They Found a Cave (2 page)

Specially for Heather of course
and
Avian Grenfell

Hollow Tree was a fine mark on the landscape. It hung above the Homestead with enormous roots grasping the boulders of the mountain side. Up and up went the mountain behind, up with its load of tall gum-trees and bush scrub, ever more steeply up to the wild, unknown heights of weather-beaten sandstone on top.

But Cherry looked down. She wriggled her skinny back more comfortably against the trunk of the old tree and stared between her brown knees at the house below. She wore shorts and a red shirt, and the two big toes showed through frayed holes in her canvas shoes.

The peaceful scene in the valley rather annoyed her than otherwise: the dog asleep in the yard, the green hedge, and the red roof of the house baking in the sunshine. The natty rows of peas looked smug, she considered, in their lines along the vegetable strip, while the eternal cries of lambs who had mislaid their mothers were irritating.

If she pushed a large stone with her toe would it roll down the steep incline and bounce on to the iron roof with a bang? Would that make a frightful crash and wake them all up inside? Would Tas run out, grinning as he guessed who had done it? Would it bring old Ma Pinner chasing out to look for a tree-branch blown down on the roof?—Ah! That would be good! For a moment she was tempted to give a push, till she remembered Jandie. It would not be fair to disturb Jandie's after-dinner rest.

Cherry closed her eyes to shut her thoughts from temptation. She sniffed the air and thought how good the gum-trees made it smell, and how untidily they dropped their bark in brown twists everywhere, and why didn't they shed their leaves instead? This brought her to think in turn of beech leaves, tender green in spring, and brown as nuts in autumn in big heaps on the lawn—when there was a lawn, before the bomb crater took it all…was it really true there was nowhere to sweep up beech leaves now? Half dozing, with her head on her arms, she could see that lawn again so clearly…

Only Cherry's thoughts were active, leaping over to England. The rest of her, from the mop of dark curls to the toenails sticking through her shoes, slept in the sunshine of Tasmania.

Suddenly the sack behind her, which served as a door into Hollow Tree, was jerked aside and Nigel poked his head out.

‘Look, boys! Here's our old sentry asleep at her post! What do you think of that? Cherry, you're a fat lot of use keeping watch with your eyes shut!'

‘I wasn't asleep, Nig. I was just thinking. Anyhow, I don't believe Tas will come now.' She got up and stretched and glanced at Brick and Nippy, who had followed their big brother outside. ‘You
do
look like a lot of owls!' she jeered.

‘'Course we do!' Brick stood in the strong light blinking. ‘Can't see a thing coming out of the dark in there.' He rubbed his eyes.

‘That's right, Nippy! You
would
copy Brick,' scolded Cherry. ‘Now your face is black as ink.'

‘Well, it's
my
face, Cherry.' He gazed proudly at his hands, which were the colour of the charcoal inside the burnt tree-trunk, and wiped them carefully on his yellow curls, which he hated.

‘Stop yabbering, you two!' commanded Nigel. ‘
Listen
, can't you?'

From the valley came sounds of loud voices and general noise. There was a sudden yell, and someone shot from the back door, which banged behind him.

‘That's Tas all right.'

They crowded to the edge to see better what was going on at the Homestead.

The door shot open again, and Ma Pinner came out and raged on the doorstep. Through the still peace of the early afternoon they caught every word she flung after her retreating son.

‘Git outter here—you! Don't dare show so much as the skin of yer nose inside my kitchen! You jest bring them things in here again and—and see what you'll git!' She paused a moment with folded arms, as though about to say more, then abruptly went inside, and once again the door banged with a thud which echoed round the hills.

‘He's watching from the chaff-house shed till she's gone. Tell him where we are, Nig.'

So Nigel, with two fingers in his mouth, whistled a private signal, and soon Tas, a grin splitting his lean face, came swiftly up the hill to join them.

‘What's up, Tas?'

‘Nothing's up but
me
! Look, the Boss give me the afternoon off—said she didn't feel too good and might have to lay down. Ma overheard her, of course, and had to chip in. “Yes,
do
have a lay down,” she says. “It will do you all the good in the world,” she says, sweet as a bee's bag
and
with the sting underneath. “I'd do the same meself if I hadn't such a lot to do,” sez she, “but my boy Tas will give me a hand with the washing-up and cleaning if you don't need him, won't you, son?” Cripes, the sting was underneath all right!'

‘Ooh! The flabby pig!'

‘Yeah! After I'd cut all that wood for her this morning, too! Wait on, though, and listen…There's Ma speaking sweet and handing me a look that would curdle cream (and I reckon I give it back with interest!) and me asking the Boss if I hadn't better take that swarm of bees first? “Of course!” agrees your Aunt Jandie. “Good-oh!” thinks me.'

‘But Tas,' Brick interrupted, ‘I thought you took those bees before dinner.'

‘So I did.' He winked slowly, and stretched his lanky frame along the warm rock as he talked. ‘
She
didn't know that, see?'

‘Oh? What happened then?'

‘Bees,' continued Tas unhurriedly. ‘Bees are the things to settle my Ma. Dead scared of 'em she is. Only thing that does git her down that I knows of. Well, I went out quick and lively, put on hat and bee veil, and got the bee smoker well going. Then, when I was sure Ma was alone, I poked my head in at the kitchen door, first puffing smoke all over meself.

‘“Quick, Ma!” I yells, so loud that she nearly drops all the dishes. “Quick! They're stinging mad! Help brush 'em off of me, will you?” And I rushed round the room slapping at the air and meself. My word! It didn't take
her
long to pitch me out, I can tell you!'

‘We heard from up here.'

‘Did you hear her tell me
not
to go near the kitchen? Right! I'll see I don't! So I reckon I've got the time off after all. What's this about a new game?'

‘It's called “kangas” and played up here. The kangaroos hop from rock to rock to get away from a gorilla who may tread anywhere.'

‘Huh! What is there but rock up here!'

‘Just you wait till you're chased and you find a lot that isn't rock. Why, Brick even carries flat stones about with him in case he gets stuck and can't reach his “home”. You see each kanga has a hiding-place where no gorilla may come, though he may lurk about outside waiting to pounce.'

‘Come on,' called Cherry impatiently, ‘let's start! Nippy can have two homes as he's little.'

‘I'm
not
little. I'm big for my age. Jandie told you so today, Cherry.'

Nigel held out a fist. ‘Draw a twig,' he said. ‘The one with the shortest goes gorilla. Is that fair?'

 

An hour or two passed with everyone absorbed in playing the new game. It suited well the ridge on the mountain side, with places of concealment behind every log and boulder. Then Brick noticed Ma Pinner in the yard below, and the game stopped abruptly. Both gorilla and kangas left their hiding-places to collect again at Hollow Tree and peer down at the Homestead.

‘Bet it's me she's after,' groaned Tas. ‘A chap never gits any peace and that's a fact. Bonza game, too. Gosh! I'd like to play it up there—see?—up
there
!' He jerked his head towards the heights above, where the tranquil afternoon showed up the high summit with splits and clefts in the rock making dark hollows.

‘Why up there? Isn't this far enough to have to climb on a hot day?' the others demanded.

‘Yeah, but there's
caves
up there. Masses and masses of 'em—make the finest “kanga” homes you ever saw.'

‘Listen, Tas!' Cherry interrupted. ‘It
is
you Ma wants.'

Tas peeped down, frowning. His mother was shouting for him in no uncertain voice. He spat deliberately, turned away and finished what he was saying. ‘Yeah. Caves up there—lots of them in the sandstone. All sorts and sizes, but a real bushranger lived in one, long time ago. No, Nippy, you can't see it proper from here, but I swear I'll take you up there one day…'

He broke off again as another summons rang round the hills, then muttered angrily, ‘Oh, well… best go down, I suppose.'

‘Why must you,' Nigel asked bluntly, ‘since Jandie gave you the time off? I just wouldn't hear her.'

‘What would be the good of that with Ma? You don't know 'er like I do…never hear the end of it…Must be near tea-time, too.' He scowled as he got up, and kicked a loose rock fiercely over the edge.

‘Will you put the sign out if we have to come, too? We'll watch for it.'

In sympathetic silence they saw him go down, taking his lanky frame like a shadow through the trees.

‘Isn't it queer,' Cherry said at last, ‘isn't it impossible that Old Awful is his mother? It doesn't seem right, somehow.'

‘He can't stand her any more than we can.' Brick rubbed his tuft of straight hair, which would never lie flat, thoughtfully. ‘I expect he's an adopted, or a changeling, or a something, don't you, Nig?'

‘I don't know. Pa Pinner's bad enough, but he's only a stepfather. Tas doesn't pretend to like him, but he's not dead scared of him like he is of his mother—have you noticed?'

‘Well, no wonder! She's such a beast to him. Fancy a
mother…
' Brick's voice trailed indignantly away, and they fell silent again for a moment, thinking of another mother and father, twelve thousand miles away—they were so different…

The afternoon was still. Sunlight shimmered lazily along the downward-pointing gum leaves and wrung a spicy scent from the curls of bark on the ground. A curious lizard flicked his tail, posing as a miniature dragon until Nippy poked at him with a stick and made him scuttle.

‘When did you first begin to like him?' enquired Cherry, still puzzling over the problem of their friend Tasman. ‘Was it when you found how awful they were to him? That's when I did. I couldn't understand him when we first came here—the way he talked, the things he said or anything. He didn't like us much either, did he?'

‘Gosh, no!' Brick answered, laughing freely. ‘Why, remember the fights almost every day when he called us “Pommies”—and all that? And when he laughed at the way we did things, and at all the things we didn't know—like when we were afraid all the time of meeting snakes, even in winter?'

‘Yes, and he still thinks we're rather mad, you know,' said Nigel, his eye on two figures down in the yard, one so fat and the other lean as a fence dropper. ‘He told me he'd never heard such queer names as we had, especially “Nigel”. When I told him “Brick” was really short for Brickenden, and ‘‘Nippy” for Anthony, I thought he'd be sick on the spot.'

‘But doesn't he think “Tasman” is a funny name?'

‘No, he doesn't; I asked him. He thinks it's all right because he lives in Tasmania, and that's named after a Dutch chap who discovered it called Abel Jansoon Tasman, he says.'

‘What about tea?' Nippy demanded, thumping the ground to gain some attention. ‘Why don't we go down—or else play again?'

‘Shush, Nippy!'

‘I won't “shush”, Cherry, and you can't make me, either!'

‘Oh, shut up, Nippy! There's Tas making for the washing line now. Let's see what he signals.'

They held to the roots of Hollow Tree and leaned far out to see the signal flags better. Three tea towels were being rapidly pegged out on the washing line.

‘Three,' counted Nippy with great satisfaction. ‘That means “all well—come down” doesn't it? Tea must be ready—see?'

‘Wait a bit,' said Cherry, pointing to Tas still busy at the line. ‘It's “three” all right, but see what he's doing? He's tying a knot in the middle one. Poor old Tas! He says “Ma's got her wool in a knot” which means she's in a bad temper. We'd better hurry down and help him, hadn't we?'

Jandie was behaving rather strangely, Cherry considered. Once she disturbed a game of ‘kangas' merely to get Brick to trim the hooves of the old goat Pansy. The nails were slightly bent under and cracked, but they would probably have worn themselves right on the rocks in time; besides it was the sort of job she usually trusted to no one but herself.

Then at milking time, when the herd was filing to the goat-pens, she came and watched Cherry, and never offered to help when one of the young bucks jumped in from the roof causing a great commotion with the milking ladies, Lily and Angela. She just leaned her arms on the high rail of the fence and watched, laughing.