THE TRAMP.

THE TRAMP.

SHE laid the stick and her baby on the grass while she untied
the rope that tethered the calf. The length of the rope
separated them. The cow was near the calf, and both were
lying down. Every day she found a fresh place to tether it — since
tether it she must, for there was no one to go after it but herself.
She had plenty of time, but then there was baby ; and if the cow
turned on her out on the plains, and she with baby She was

afraid of the cow ; she had been a town girl, only she did not want
the cow to know it. She used to run at first when the cow bellowed
its protest against the penning-up of its calf. This suited the cow,
also the calf, but the woman's husband was wroth, and called her —
the noun was cur It was he who forced her to run and meet the
advancing cow, brandishing a stick and uttering threatening words
till the enemy turned tail and ran " That 's the way ! " the man
said, laughing at her white face. In many things he was worse
than the cow, and she wondered if the same rule would apply to the
man, but she was not one to provoke skirmishes, even with the cow.
It was early for the calf to go " to bed " — nearly an hour
earlier than usual ; but she felt so weirdly lonely. Partly because
it was Monday, and her husband had been home for Saturday night
and Sunday. He had gone off before daylight this morning ; he
was a shearer, and fifteen miles as the crow flies separated them.
She knew of no one nearer, unless the tramp. Ah ! that was why
she had penned the calf up so early. She feared more from the
look of his eyes, and the gleam of his teeth, as he watched her
newly-awakened baby beat its impatient fists upon her covered
breasts, than from the knife that was sheathed in the belt at
his waist.
Her husband, she had told him, was sick. She always said
that when she was alone and a tramp came — and she had gone in
from the kitchen to the bedroom and asked questions and replied to
them in the best man's voice she could assume. But this tramp had
walked round and round the house, and there were cracks in some
places, — and after the last time he had asked for tobacco. She had
none to give, and he had grinned, because there was a broken clay
pipe near the wood-heap where he stood, and if there were a man
inside there ought to have been tobacco. Then he asked for money,
but women in the bush never have money.

At last he was gone, and she, watching through the cracks
inside, saw him when about a quarter of a mile away turn and look
back at the house. Then he went further in the direction that she
would have him go ; but he paused again, turned and looked behind
him, and, apparently satisfied, moved to the left towards the creek.
The creek made a bow round the house, and when he came to it she
lost sight of him. Hours after, watching intently in that direction
for signs of smoke, she saw the man's dog chasing some sheep that
had gone to the creek for water, and saw it slink back suddenly, as
if the man had called it.

More than once she thought of taking her baby and going to
her husband, but as yet she had not set her will against his as with
the cow, and so dared not. Long before nightfall she placed food
in the kitchen, and a big brooch that had been her mother's she put
upon the table, because, if the man did come back and robbery were
his object, it was the only thing valuable that she had. And she
left the kitchen door open — wide open ; but this was not wise.

How she fastened the doors inside ! Beside the bolt in the
back one she drove in the steel and the scissors ; against it she piled
the stools and the table. Beside the lock on the front door she
forced the handle of the spade, under the middle bar, and the blade
between the cracks in the flooring boards. Then the prop-stick, cut
into lengths, held the top as the spade held the middle. The
windows were little more than port-holes ; she had nothing to fear
through them.
She ate a few mouthfuls of food and drank a cup of cold milk
for she lighted no fire, and when night came no candle, but crept
with her baby to bed.

What woke her ? The wonder was that she had slept : she had
not meant to, but she was young, very young. Perhaps the
shrinking of the galvanised roof — yet hardly, that was too usual.
Something had set her heart beating wildly, and the very air she
breathed seemed fraught with terrible danger, but she lay quite
still — only she put her other arm over her baby. Then she had both
round it, and she prayed : " Little baby — little baby — don't wake !

She saw one of the open cracks, quite close to where she lay,
darken with a shadow — for the moon's rays shone on that side.
Then a protesting growl reached her; and she could fancy she
heard the man turn hastily : she plainly heard the thud of some-
thing striking the dog's ribs, and the long, flying strides of the
animal as it howled and ran. Still watching, she saw the shadow
darken every crack along the wall : she knew by the sounds that
the man was trying every position that might help him to see in ;
but how much he saw she could not tell. She thought of doing
many things that might deceive him into the idea that she was not
alone, but the sound of her voice would wake baby, and, as though
that were the only danger that threatened her, she dreaded it. If
baby cried she felt as if she, in turn, must betray her weakness, and
instinctively cry to her protector, fifteen miles away. So she prayed :
" Little baby, don't wake ! don't cry ! "

Very stealthily the man crept about. She knew he had his
boots off, because of the vibration that his feet caused as he walked
along the verandah, gauging the width of the little window in
her room and the resistance of the front door. Then he went to the
other end, and the uncertainty of what he might be doing was fear-
ful : she had felt safer, far safer, while he was close, and she could
watch and listen. But now ! Oh, God ! it was terrible. She felt
she must watch, and again the great fear of wakening baby assailed
her. And there was another thing : on that side of the house one
of the slabs had shrunk in length as well as in width, and had once
fallen out. It was held in position only by a wedge of wood under-
neath. What if he should discover that ! The uncertainty increased
her terror. She felt she must rise : and now, how she prayed as
she gently raised herself with her little one in her arms, held tightly
to her breast !

The vital parts in her child's body she tried to shield with her
hands and arms as she thought of the knife : even its little feet she
covered with its white gown, and baby never murmured — it liked
to be held so. Noiselessly she crossed to the other side, and stood
where she could see and hear, but not be seen. He was trying every
slab, and was very near to that with the wedge under it. Then,
even while hoping, she saw him find it ; and heard the sound of the
knife as bit by bit he began to cut away the wooden barrier.

She waited still, with her baby pressed tightly to her ; though
she knew that in another few minutes this man with the cruel eyes,
lascivious mouth and gleaming knife would be able to enter. One
side of the slab tilted ; there was nothing to do now but cut away
the remaining little end, when the slab, unless he held it, would fall
inside or out ; and then

She heard his jerked breathing as it kept time with the cuts of
the knife, and heard the brush of his clothes as they rubbed the
walls with his movements, for she was so still and quiet that she did
not even tremble. And she knew when he ceased, and wondered
why. She stood well concealed ; she knew he could not see her and
that he would not fear if he did ; yet she heard him move cautiously
away. Perhaps he expected the slab to fall. Still, his motive
puzzled her : his retreat was a pretence, she felt sure ; and she
moved even closer and bent her body the better to listen. Ah !
what sound was that ? " Listen ! Listen ! " she bade her heart — her
heart that had kept so still hitherto, but now bounded with
tumultuous throbs that dulled her ears. Nearer and nearer came
the sounds, till the welcome thud of horse's hoofs rang out clearly.

" Oh, God ! Oh, God ! Oh, God ! " she cried ; for they were
SO locked and barred with many bars. The age it took to tear away
its fastenings !

Out she darted at last, and, tearing madly along, saw the horse-
man far beyond her in the distance. She called to him in *****'s
name, in her babe's name, still flying like the wind with the speed
that deadly peril sends ; but the distance grew greater and greater
between them, and when she reached the creek her prayers turned
to wild shrieks, for there crouched the man she feared, with out-
stretched hands that had caught her ere she saw him. She knew he
was offering terms if she ceased to struggle and cry for help, though
louder and louder did she cry for it ; but it was only when the man's
hand gripped her throat that the cry of " Murder ! " came from her
lips; and when she fell the startled curlews took up the awful
sound, and flew over the horseman's head shrieking " M-u-r-d-e-r !
M-u-r-d-e-r ! M-u-r-d-e-r!"

" By God ! " said the boundary-rider, " it 's been a dingo right
enough. Eight killed up here, and there 's more down in the creek
— a ewe and lamb, I’ll bet ; and the lamb 's alive." And he shut
out the sky with his hand and watched the crows that were circling
round and round, nearing the earth one moment and the next
shooting skyward. By that he knew the lamb must be alive. Even
a dingo will spare a lamb sometimes.

Yes, the lamb was alive, and after the manner of lambs of its-
age did not know its mother when the light came. It had sucked
the still-warm breasts and laid its little head on her bosom and
slept till morn ; then, when the wee one looked at the swollen,
disfigured face with the starting eyes, and clenched teeth that had
bitten through the tongue and stained the bodice crimson, it wept
and would have crept away but for the hand that still clutched it
little gown. Sleep was nodding its golden head and swaying its
small body, and the crows were close, so close, to the other's wide-
open eyes, when the boundary-rider galloped down.

He reeled in his saddle when he saw the two, and, covering his eyes, cried,
' ***** ***** ! And he told afterwards how the little child held
out its arms to him, and how he was forced to cut the portion of its
gown that the dead hand held.

A few miles further down the creek a man kept throwing an
old cap into the water. The dog would bring it out and lay it on
the opposite side from where the man stood, but would not allow
the man to catch him, though it was only to wash the blood of the
sheep from his mouth and throat, for the sight of blood made the
man tremble.

But the dog also was guilty.

Barbara Baynton.



Printed and Published by William Macleod. of Botany-street, Waverley,
for The Bulletin Newspaper Company, Limited, at the office of the
Company, 214 George-street North, Sydney, New South Wales, Australia.
December, 1901.