They Found a Cave Page 3
Tas sped away to the Homestead, joining them later at Hollow Tree. They watched him bounding up with bulging pockets which he patted lovingly.
‘We’ve struck lucky,’ he panted. ‘Look here! Enough tucker fer us all. I’m told off to find some sheep for them. She said to cut meself some bread and cheese, but you would git nothing because you cleared out. So I brought your dinners, too. I kidded her it would take all day to find them sheep, though I reckon I know jest where they’ll be. So now we can all make tracks for the day. Like to come up the mountain with me and take a look at those caves?’
Quite suddenly it became a day to rejoice in after all.
The climb was steep from the start, and though Nippy’s legs were sturdy they were short, so it was taken gently with plenty of rests on fallen tree-trunks and boulders. Towards the top the weather-beaten rock frowned down in great cliffs which bulged outward. It seemed impossible to climb higher, but always Tas pointed out a way until they stood right under the rock wall which had streaks of orange sand in the few cracks which scarred its face.
‘Like a spell?’ Tas asked, and thankfully they rested. The air was pungent with strange scents crushed from the wild shrubs they had trodden underfoot. It was a day dreamy with sunshine and early spring. A bird flew out near them, hung over space a moment, and dropped like a stone, dwindling to the size of a sparrow.
‘See him?’ Tas asked. ‘That was a wedgetail eagle. Got a nest up on those rocks along there. Can you see it?’
Their eyes were too untrained to distinguish the pile of sticks and bones from the ledge upon which it rested, but they were properly impressed when told it was one of the largest eagles in the world.
There was no breeze to cool them, or to stir the hanging fingers of the few gum-trees which dragged their stunted bodies from fissures in the rock. Such a heavy quiet lay over the bush that it struck them as comic, and they laughed aloud when the thin cackle of an egg-laying hen rose from far below. Looking down they could see the Homestead spread out like a toy thing, the house a mere red-and-white matchbox, the sheep dotted about between fences like the ones in Nippy’s farmyard set.
‘What a toy!’ Brick chuckled. ‘The beehives look like cakes of soap. And what’s the stuff like cotton wool? Must be the big cherry-plum in flower. Doesn’t it all look tiny from up here? As for the house—’
‘“—but the smoke”,’ Nigel prompted, prepared to conduct with a piece of stick and throwing back his head to sing, ‘“but the smoke goes up the chimney just the same…”’
‘“JUST THE SAME!”’ sang the other three in chorus.
‘“But the SMOKE goes up the chimney JUST THE SAME”!’ they yelled all together to the unheeding bush.
All except Tas, who just grinned and muttered, ‘Oh, you Pommies! You’re quite mad. Somethin’ always reminds you of a song or somethin’.’
‘Well, want to fight about it?’ enquired Nigel, flushing.
‘Shut up, Nig!’ Cherry intervened hastily. ‘Can’t you see he’s only chipping you? Now, Tas, come on! Lead us to yon Bushranger’s Den, if there really is one. I can’t see any caves from here; there’s nothing but a solid wall of rock.’
‘Matter of fact it’s jest over your head. By cripes! If you can’t see it from here then it’s no wonder old Jim the Bushranger could sit up there and pop off the Troopers when they came after him. Look up!’
They looked: but as Nippy said, there was nothing to be seen but a bulge of rock.
‘And a ledge,’ added Nigel, stepping back as far as possible and making use of his extra height.
‘A ledge? That’s it!’ Tas cried excitedly. ‘That’s all you can see of it from below. Not ten feet over your heads and you can’t see a thing. Gosh! Old Jim must have found it a bonza hiding-place.’
‘Did they ever catch him?’
‘Yeah. Not here, though. It was when he went to Hobart one time to buy boots. They’d never git him here,’ he cried scornfully. ‘Now, come on and we’ll take a look inside.’
‘Won’t we break our necks first?’ Nigel was already trying to scale the wall of rock, and slipping back each time for lack of foothold.
‘If you try to git in that way, you will.’
‘What other way is there?’ snapped Nigel crossly. ‘Any fool can see you can’t get down to the ledge from above.’
‘That’s true,’ Tas was grinning and enjoying himself hugely, ‘so if you can’t climb up to it from here, nor down to it from the top—reckon you’d best follow Uncle Tas, hadn’t you?’
In an astonished silence they picked their way after him, keeping close along the wall, following its smooth face till a leaning tree partly concealed a fissure. Here was the way up, formed at first by twisting roots, and then by great squared blocks, piled up, as Nippy said, as though some giant had upset the lump sugar.
‘These steps are taking us right away from the cave, though,’ grumbled Nigel, ‘and what’s the good of getting above the ledge? I can’t even see the thing from here.’
Tas had climbed near the top by this time. He glanced back with irritating calm and grinned down at Nigel’s hot, scowling face below.
‘Poor coot,’ he remarked. ‘You’d see a dashed sight more…if you just…left it quietly…to your old Uncle Tasman.’
The last words were almost lost as he swung a leg over a boulder. His head and shoulders were outlined for an instant against the sky, and then he disappeared completely.
‘I s’pose he’s all right?’ enquired Cherry rather anxiously.
‘’Course he is! He’s over the top, that’s all, and the other side is probably as steep as this is.’
It was this mistake which gave Tas the keenest enjoyment of the whole splendid day. He lay a little to one side of the ridge, waiting for each head to pop over in turn, and watched the various faces register utter astonishment as each in turn found out what lay beyond.
For there was no knife-like summit with sharp descent to another deep valley—nothing of the sort. Instead a gentle slope led to a pleasant grassy depression of the mountain top, beyond which the hills gathered themselves into new ranges round about. Most spectacular of all, the hollow was filled with a fine pool of water fringed with reeds, round which about a dozen sheep were grazing.
‘My stars!’ gasped Nigel, as he took it all in, his eyes larger than ever.
‘Oh!’ Brick and Cherry exclaimed when their heads, following his, popped over.
But Nippy wasted no time on mere scenery. ‘Water!’ he yelled, wiping a hot face with a piece of shirt. ‘Can we drink it, Tas?’
‘’Course! Did you think it would be salt? Oh, I wish you could’ve seen yerselves coming over. Laugh! Old Nig’s face when he spotted them sheep down there—oh, gosh!’ He continued to laugh till he discovered he was alone on the ridge. The others had followed Nippy headlong and thrown themselves on the reeds to drink from cupped hands.
Later they stretched under the scanty shade of some silver wattles and enjoyed their bread and cheese, their eyes drawn all the time to that unbelievable pool of cool, sweet water.
Tas explained that he was sure he would find the missing sheep up here. Once before a goat had strayed and he and Jandie had found it on this very spot. It was placidly grazing near some sheep they hadn’t realized were missing.
‘Oh, I remember,’ said Cherry. ‘Jandie told me something about that. A strange dog had chased Lily, hadn’t he? And when you found her up here wasn’t there also a new-born kid?’
‘That’s right. It’s a full-grown goat now. Dunno why Jandie called her after that old mine in Australia, but she yelled “Eureka!” as soon as she seen what Lily had with her.’
‘It’s Greek,’ explained Nigel. ‘It means “I have found it” and some old chap shouted it in his bath, after he had lost the soap or something. That was rather bright of Jandie.’
‘Well, it’s Greek to me all right,’ Tas continued, chewing away. ‘She’s too fond of giving things queer names, I reckon. Take Old
Jim’s hide-out, now. What must she go and call that but “Capra Cave”? See, we found the way in there the same day as we found Lily with her kid. That’s when she named it.’
‘I think that’s why, Tas. You see “Capra” means a goat. She’s got a lot of sense, has Jandie. Then does no one know of this place except you two?’
‘I don’t reckon so, Nig. Old Jim lived in it once, of course, but he’s long dead. One other chap might, an old fellow known as “The ’Uman Compass”; “Mad Dad” Williams they call him, but he’s not too mad; he knows this bush like the palm of your hand. Who else would want to climb right up here? Tell me that?’
‘But it’s lovely,’ Cherry cried, getting up to see better. ‘Just what I like, all shut in and secret, yet on top of everything.’
She stared first at the tarn before her, reedy and shallow. It curved back, and the far end was much deeper with large boulders blocking it. Thick scrub finally closed the view that way. Opposite them, the ground rose gently from the water’s edge. It was grassy with coarse tussocks, and strewn with rock and a few scattered trees. As the slope grew steeper so the ground became more rough, and the saplings grew like a wall.
Having studied one half of the circle, Cherry swung round to examine the ridge by which they had entered the hidden land. At once her blue eyes widened and she gave a gasp of surprise.
‘Look!’ she cried, pointing along the rocky ridge. ‘Look! Caves, and caves—and caves!’
‘Dash it all, Cherry! I was waiting ter see the shock you’d all git when you looked round,’ Tas grumbled while they stared delightedly. ‘You was all so busy filling up the radiators you nearly missed the thing you came to see.’
He could not complain of lack of interest, however, once they began to explore the caves. There were big shallow ones of yellow sandstone, and little caves which were mere holes, and others no more than faults in the rock, but there were none which seemed to run deep into the hill-top.
Secretly Cherry was finding them all disappointing; for one thing, the sandy floors were not level, since they all followed the steep angle of the hill, and the loose sand filled her shoes; and then the ground was covered thickly with droppings and smelled strongly of sheep.
‘They are not really hidey caves, are they?’ whispered Nippy. ‘Except for sheep, I mean.’
Cherry went to join him in the first cave, which seemed the biggest of all. Its roof arched far above their heads, and was veined like the inside of a sea shell.
‘No,’ she agreed, ‘you can’t exactly explore them, can you?’
‘Oh-ho! Can’t you then?’ Tas cried as he overheard her remark. ‘Listen, all of you! I’m going to show you a thing or two.’ He whispered a moment to Nippy, then ordered Nigel, Brick and Cherry to turn their backs. ‘Watch the ripples on the tarn and don’t lift your eyes till you’ve counted fifty,’ he ordered.
Obediently they lined up with their backs to the entrance, while Cherry slowly counted aloud, her eyes fixed on some green Tasmanian rosellas which were tearing to shreds some fluffy yellow wattle flowers.
‘FIFTY!’ she yelled, and the startled birds flew clamouring to another tree. At the same time there was a mad rush to be first inside the cave. When they got there the three stood gazing at each other foolishly—for the cave was empty.
‘They couldn’t have slipped past! said Brick, staring round again. There appeared to be nowhere to hide. There was just the high roof and the sandy floor which sloped to meet it at the back, and a long, empty shelf of rock where sheep had evidently slept. Nothing else at all. Tas and Nippy had vanished into thick stone—simply vanished, that was all.
‘It’s some silly trick,’ muttered Nigel, refusing to be properly impressed. He even dug his toe into the sand as if he expected to find the boys buried underneath.
‘Aha! Not if they leave footprints,’ called Brick triumphantly. With cunning scout-craft he followed two sets of tracks to the furthest corner, where they ceased abruptly. Happening to glance up he was astonished to see a patch of blue sky. At once the mystery was solved for him. Jumping quickly on the shelf, and scrambling through a wide, jagged hole, he, too, disappeared without a word.
‘Where are you, Brick?’ Cherry demanded. Then she, too, saw the way he had gone. ‘And it looked such a solid sort of a roof,’ she called back as a clue to Nigel. ‘Well, good-bye, brother.’ With a step she vanished from his sight.
Once through the hole Cherry found herself in a narrow passage with open sky above and rocky walls on either hand. It was in fact a fissure of the same type as the Giant Steps, but shorter. The remarkable thing was that it led direct into Capra Cave. Ducking her head she entered, with a long-drawn ‘Ooh!’ as she looked about her.
‘Yes, it’s splendid, Cherry,’ Nippy cried, dancing round the fine hard floor—which was perfectly level and clean—and taking flying leaps into a drift of soft sand which had blown to one end.
‘Oh, I like this place,’ he yelled. ‘It’s a real cave. Where’s Nig? Hullo, there you are, Old Nig, last of all! Not much of a detective, but never mind. I say, Nig, I wouldn’t mind living up here; there’s lots of room, and look at all the places to put things.’
Cherry had also been noticing the natural shelves in the yellow walls—like that cheese that’s full of holes, she was thinking—and her eyes travelled the domed roof, and probed the mysterious dark corners, before resting on the great gaping mouth of the cave. Here, framed as in a picture, the blue of the sky met the dull greens of the bush-covered hills, and the sunshine which steeped it all spilt a little way into the cave, then stopped abruptly in a hard, black line across the floor.
She went to the edge and sat with her feet dangling over the ledge while the boys discussed and explored the cave, searching hopefully, but without success, for barrels of gold coins, or at least some relics of Old Jim. There was nothing to show that a man had used the cave before them, except the black stones and the rough fireplace carefully built so that smoke would escape into the passage and away towards the tarn—not out of the mouth of the cave as a tell-tale signal for anyone below.
Resting herself, Cherry enjoyed the contrast between the dim, cool old cavern and the brilliant sunlight and colour outside. She looked down for landmarks and quickly spotted Hollow Tree, looking queer and stunted seen from so far above. Below it in the valley were the red roofs, the fences and buildings, all like toy things, just as they had noticed them before from only a few feet lower than where she now sat. Beyond the valley again, the bush took all to itself, clothing the far hills as though with moss, till all was lost in the misty blue of the great ranges far away.
Dreamily gazing out, her thoughts were far away when, turning with a start, she found the others had joined her. She told Nippy not to hang his legs so dangerously over the edge and he quickly pointed out that she was doing the same thing herself.
‘That’s different. I can fall over if I like, but we’re responsible for you to Mother and Dad, aren’t we, Nig?’
‘Ho! Then if you are in charge of me, and not Ma Pinner, why not come up here to live? I’d like to bring my cat and live in this cave. I don’t want to go back there without Jandie, I tell you.’
They all laughed at him. ‘Well, it’s an idea,’ teased Nigel. ‘Why not come up and try it on your own? You would have Old Jim’s ghost for company.’
‘And Tas would tell you how to trap a bunny when you got hungry, wouldn’t you, Tas?’ added Brick.
‘And we’d visit you on Sundays and leave a tapioca pudding on your doorstep,’ Cherry contributed, knowing his special dislikes. ‘Besides, you could train Fluffles to catch fish for you in the tarn!’
‘All the same,’ said Nigel, suddenly serious, ‘I rather wish we could, don’t you?’
Cherry nodded vigorously, and as usual began at once to picture the idea as a fact. Brick grunted a deep ‘Um-hum!’ with longing, and sighed.
Only Tas, the boy bred to the bush, accepted it as a simple practical suggestion.
‘I say,’ Nippy asked, as Tas disappeared from the cave, ‘what did he mean? He said “she”—“see how she behaves”—what exacterly did Tas mean, Cherry?’
‘Dunno. Ask him yourself,’ Cherry answered shortly.
For she did know, and her eyes were gleaming at the thought; but thoughts like that, decided Cherry, were not to be lightly trusted to a bit of a kid like young Nippy.
4
Bedtime Conspiracy
Only a week—was it only a week since Jandie had left, taking with her their freedom and happy days! Cherry moved restlessly in bed and listened. Nippy made little sobbing noises in his sleep and muttered ‘Mummie’. Cherry sat up gritting her teeth, she sat with elbows pressed sharply into her own knees trying to stifle her rage. Oh! To be so helpless—helpless—helpless.
There came a stealthy movement and a whisper through the window. ‘Come on the verandah. We’re talking things over. Leave him if he’s asleep. Don’t make a row!’ Nigel’s shoulders were outlined for a moment against the dark blue and star gleams of the night, and then vanished.
Cherry pad-padded barefoot along the boards to the end where the boys slept. Tas was already huddled in his patched pyjamas on Nigel’s bed, telling them they could talk aloud as long as they were careful.
‘Snoring like a yardful o’ pigs they were, when I passed the door,’ he said. ‘I don’t trust ’em far, though. Reckon they mean trouble. What happened? Ma lorst her block, didn’t she? And give young Nippy the hiding of his life?’