On Our Selection
Chapter XX.
The Cow We Bought.
When Dad received two hundred pounds for the wheat he saw nothing butsuccess and happiness ahead. His faith in the farm and farmingswelled. Dad was not a pessimist--when he had two hundred pounds.
"Say what they like," he held forth to Anderson and two other menacross the rails one evening--"talk how they will about it, there'smoney to be made at farming. Let a man WORK and use his HEAD and knowwhat to sow and when to sow it, and he MUST do well." (Anderson strokedhis beard in grave silence; HE had had no wheat). "Why, once a farmergets on at all he's the most independent man in the whole country."
"Yes! Once he DOES!" drawled one of the men,--a weird, withered fellowwith a scraggy beard and a reflective turn of mind.
"Jusso," Dad went on, "but he must use his HEAD; it's all in th'head." (He tapped his own skull with his finger). "Where would I benow if I had n't used me head this last season?"
He paused for an answer. None came.
"I say," he continued, "it's a mistake to think nothing's to be made atfarming, and any man" ("Come to supper, D--AD!"--'t was Sal's voice)"ought t' get on where there's land like this."
"LAND!" said the same man--"where IS it?"
"Where IS it?" Dad warmed up--"where IS N'T it? Is n't this land?"(Looking all round.) "Is n't the whole country land from one end tothe other? And is there another country like it anywhere?"
"There is n't!" said the man.
"Is there any other country in th' WORLD" (Dad lifted his voice) "wherea man, if he likes, can live" ("Dad, tea!") "without a shilling in hispocket and without doing a tap of work from one year's end to theother?"
Anderson did n't quite understand, and the weird man asked Dad if hemeant "in gaol."
"I mean," Dad said, "that no man should starve in this country whenthere's kangaroos and bears and"--(Joe came and stood beside Dad andasked him if he was DEAF)--"and goannas and snakes in thousands. Lookhere!" (still to the weird man), "you say that farming"--(Mother,bare-headed, came out and stood beside Joe, and asked Anderson if Mrs.Anderson had got a nurse yet, and Anderson smiled and said he believedanother son had just arrived, but he had n't seen it)--"that farmingdon't pay"--(Sal came along and stood near Mother and asked Andersonwho the baby was like)--"don't pay in this country?"
The man nodded.
"It will pay any man who----"
Interruption.
Anderson's big dog had wandered to the house, and came back with nearlyall that was for supper in his mouth.
Sal squealed.
"DROP IT--DROP IT, Bob!" Anderson shouted, giving chase. Bob droppedit on the road.
"DAMN IT!" said Dad, glaring at Mother, "wot d' y' ALL want out'ere?...Y-YOU brute!" (to the dog, calmly licking its lips).
Then Anderson and the two men went away.
But when we had paid sixty pounds to the storekeeper and thirty poundsin interest; and paid for the seed and the reaping and threshing of thewheat; and bought three plough-horses, and a hack for Dave; and acorn-sheller, and a tank, and clothes for us all; and put rations inthe house; and lent Anderson five pounds; and improved Shingle Hut; andso on; very little of the two hundred pounds was left.
Mother spoke of getting a cow. The children, she said, could n't livewithout milk and when Dad heard from Johnson and Dwyer that Eastbrookdairy cattle were to be sold at auction, he said he would go down andbuy one.
Very early. The stars had scarcely left the sky. There was a lot ofgroping and stumbling about the room. Dad and Dave had risen and werepreparing to go to the sale.
I don't remember if the sky was golden or gorgeous at all, or if themountain was clothed in mist, or if any fragrance came from thewattle-trees when they were leaving; but Johnson, without hat or boots,was picking splinters off the slabs of his hut to start his fire with,and a mile further on Smith's dog was barking furiously. He was afamous barker. Smith trained him to it to keep the wallabies off.Smith used to chain him to a tree in the paddock and hang a piece ofmeat to the branches, and leave him there all night.
Dad and Dave rode steadily along and arrived at Eastbrook beforemid-day. The old station was on its last legs. "The flags were flyinghalf-mast high." A crowd of people were there. Cart-horses withharness on, and a lot of tired-looking saddle-hacks, covered with drysweat, were fastened to cart-wheels, and to every available post andplace. Heaps of old iron, broken-down drays and buggies andwheel-barrows, pumps and pieces of machinery, which Dad reckoned wereworth a lot of money, were scattered about. Dad yearned to gather themall up and cart them home. Rows of unshaven men were seated high onthe rails of the yards. The yards were filled with cattle--cows,heifers, bulls, and calves, all separate--bellowing, and, in a friendlyway, raking skins and hair off each other with their horns.
The station-manager, with a handful of papers and a pencil behind hisear, hurried here and there, followed by some of the crowd, who askedhim questions which he did n't answer. Dad asked him if this was theplace where the sale was to be. He looked all over Dad.
A man rang a bell violently, shouting, "This way for the dairy cows!"Dad went that way, closely followed by Dave, who was silent andstrange. A boy put a printed catalogue into Dad's hand, which he wasdoubtful about keeping until he saw Andy Percil with one. Most of themen seated on the rails jumped down into an empty yard and stood roundin a ring. In one corner the auctioneer mounted a box, and read theconditions of sale, and talked hard about the breed of the cattle.Then:
"How much for the imported cow, Silky? No.1 on the catalogue. Howmuch to start her, gentlemen?"
Silky rushed into the yard with a shower of sticks flying after her andglared about, finally fixing her gaze on Dad, who was trying to findher number in the catalogue.
"A pure-bred 'Heereford,' four years old, by The Duke out of Dolly, tocalve on the eighth of next month," said the auctioneer. "How much tostart her?"
All silent. Buyers looked thoughtful. The auctioneer ran his restlesseyes over them.
Dad and Dave held a whispered consultation; then Dad made a movement.The auctioneer caught his eye and leant forward.
"FIVE BOB!" Dad shouted. There was a loud laugh. The auctioneerfrowned. "We're selling COWS, old man," he said, "not running ashilling-table."
More laughter. It reached Dave's heart, and he wished he had n't comewith Dad.
Someone bid five pounds, someone else six; seven-eight-nine went roundquickly, and Silky was sold for ten pounds.
"Beauty" rushed in.
Two station-hands passed among the crowd, each with a bucket of beerand some glasses. Dad hesitated when they came to him, and said he didn't care about it. Dave the same.
Dad ran "Beauty" to three pound ten shillings (all the money he had),and she was knocked down at twelve pounds.
Bidding became lively.
Dave had his eye on the men with the beer--he was thirsty. He noticedno one paid for what was drunk, and whispered his discovery to Dad.When the beer came again, Dad reached out and took a glass. Dave tookone also.
"Have another!" said the man.
Dave grinned, and took another.
Dad ran fifteen cows, successively, to three pounds ten shillings.
The men with the beer took a liking to Dave. They came frequently tohim, and Dave began to enjoy the sale.
Again Dad stopped bidding at three pounds ten shillings.
Dave began to talk. He left his place beside Dad and, hat in hand,staggered to the middle of the yard. "WOH!" he shouted, and made anawkward attempt to embrace a red cow which was under the hammer.
"SEV'N POUN'--SEV'N POUN'--SEV'N POUN'," shouted the auctioneer,rapidly. "Any advance on sev'n POUN'?"
"WENNY (hic) QUID," Dave said.
"At sev'n poun' she's GOING?"
"Twenny (hic) TWO quid," Dave said.
"You have n't twenty-two PENCE," snorted the auctioneer.
Then Dave caught the cow by the tail, and she pulled him about the yarduntil two men took him
away.
The last cow put up was, so the auctioneer said, station-bred and infull milk. She was a wild-looking brute, with three enormous teats anda large, fleshy udder. The catalogue said her name was "Dummy."
"How much for 'Dummy,' the only bargain in the mob--how much for her,gentlemen?"
Dad rushed "Dummy." "Three poun' ten," he said, eagerly.
The auctioneer rushed Dad. "YOURS," he said, bringing his hammer downwith a bang; "you deserve her, old man!" And the station-managerchuckled and took Dad's name--and Dad's money.
Dad was very pleased, and eager to start home. He went and found Dave,who was asleep in a hay-stack, and along with Steven Burton they drovethe cow home, and yarded her in the dark.
Mother and Sal heard the noise, and came with a light to see Dad'spurchase, but as they approached "Dummy" threatened to carry the yardaway on her back, and Dad ordered them off.
Dad secured the rails by placing logs and the harrow against them, thenwent inside and told Mother what a bargain he'd made.
In the morning Dad took a bucket and went to milk "Dummy." All of usaccompanied him. He crawled through the rails while "Dummy" tore theearth with her fore-feet and threw lumps of it over the yard. But shewas n't so wild as she seemed, and when Dad went to work on her with abig stick she walked into the bail quietly enough. Then he sat to milkher, and when he took hold of her teats she broke the leg-rope andkicked him clean off the block and tangled her leg in the bucket andmade a great noise with it. Then she bellowed and reared in the bailand fell down, her head screwed the wrong way, and lay with her tongueout moaning.
Dad rose and spat out dirt.
"Dear me!" Mother said, "it's a WILD cow y' bought."
"Not at all," Dad answered; "she's a bit touchy, that's all."
"She tut-tut--TUTCHED YOU orright, Dad," Joe said from the top of theyard.
Dad looked up. "Get down outer THAT!" he yelled. "No wonder the damncow's frightened."
Joe got down.
Dad brought "Dummy" to her senses with a few heavy kicks on her nose,and proceeded to milk her again. "Dummy" kicked and kicked. Dadtugged and tugged at her teats, but no milk came. Dad could n'tunderstand it. "Must be frettin'," he said.
Joe owned a pet calf about a week old which lived on water and a longrope. Dad told him to fetch it to see if it would suck. Joe fetchedit, and it sucked ravenously at "Dummy's" flank, and joyfully waggedits tail. "Dummy" resented it. She plunged until the leg-rope partedagain, when the calf got mixed up in her legs, and she trampled it inthe ground. Joe took it away. Dad turned "Dummy" out and bailed herup the next day--and every day for a week--with the same result. Thenhe sent for Larry O'Laughlin, who posed as a cow doctor.
"She never give a drop in her life," Larry said. "Them's BLIND titsshe have."
Dad one day sold "Dummy" for ten shillings and bought a goat, whichJohnson shot on his cultivation and made Dad drag away.