She was a fine "lump" of a woman, with broad shoulders, and nearly
the same breadth all the way down to her feet. She wore a rusty
black dress, which fitted perilously tight to her arms and bust; on
her head was a lopsided, dismantled black bonnet with a feather--a
bonnet that had evidently been put away in a drawer and forgotten
for years. Any want of colour or style in her dress was amply
made up for by the fact that she positively glowed with opals. Her
huge, thick fingers twinkled with opal rings; from each of her ears
there dangled an opal earring the size of a form; her old dress
was secured round her thick, muscular neck by a brooch that looked
like an opal quarry, and whenever she turned to the sun she flashed
out rays like a lighthouse.
Her face was fat and red, full of a sort of good-humoured ferocity;
she moved like a queen among the bystanders, and shook hands
gravely with each and all of them. She was hot, but very dignified.
Evidently she was preparing to start in the coach, for she packed
into the vehicle with jealous care a large carpet-bag of garish
colouring that seemed to harmonise well with the opals. While she
was packing this away, Charlie and Carew went into the store, and
bought such supplies as were needed for the establishment at No
Man's Land. Gordon took the opportunity to ask the shock-headed
old storekeeper, Pike's deputy, some questions about the lady, who
was still scintillating between the coach and the house, carrying
various small articles each trip.
"Don't yer know 'er?" said the man, in much the same tone that Bret
Harte's hero must have used when he was so taken aback to find that
a stranger-"Didn't know Flynn,--
Flynn of Virginia."
"Don't yer know 'er?" he repeated, pausing in his task of scooping
some black cockroachy sugar from the bottom of a bin. "That's the
Hopal Queen! She's hoff South, she is. Yer'll be going in the coach,
will yer?"
"Yes," said Charlie. "We're going in the coach. There's no extra
fare for travelling with such a swell, is there? Where on earth
did she get all those opals?"
"Ho, blokes gives 'em to 'er, passin' back from the hopal fields.
In the rough, yer know! Hopal in the rough, well, it's 'ard to
tell what it'll turn out, and they'll give 'er a 'unk as sometimes
turns out a fair dazzler. She's a hay-one judge of it in the rough,
too. If she buys a bit of hopal, yer bet yer life it ain't a bad
bit when it's cut. What about these 'ere stores? Goin' to take 'em
with yer?"
"No," said Charlie. "The black boy is here for them. He's going to
take them back with him."