Jean, Our Little Australian CousinNixon-Roulet, Mary F.
General
Jean, Our Little Australian Cousin
Nixon-Roulet, Mary F.
Children -- Australia -- Juvenile literature
Jean thought his advice good and said her prayers, sitting quietly for a
time, looking through the cave door, though she could see but little,
the screen of vines and bushes was so thick. She grew tired of sitting
still, and moved about the little cave, finding little to interest her,
however. It was hollowed out like a tunnel deep into the cliff, but was
so dark, except right at the mouth, that she was afraid to explore it.
She took off her shoes, washed her aching feet, and reaching to the
bushes around the cave, pulled leaves to bind on them as Kadok had
taught her to do. Then she took off the handkerchief he had tied about
her head, let down her long hair and tried to smooth out the tangles
with her fingers. It was no easy task, for the hair was long, fine and
curly, and it was terribly matted down and snarled. She took a long
thorn and tried to use it for a comb, and after working a long time had
the locks smoothed out into a fluffy mass of gold on either side her
face. She had been so interested in her work that she had not noticed
how late it was getting until suddenly it seemed to be growing dark. She
looked out of the cave and saw the gleams of the golden sunset through
the leaves. She felt hungry. "Where can Kadok be?" she thought to
herself. "He has been gone a long, long time. Oh, supposing something
has happened to him! What shall I do?" But there was nothing for her to
do but wait, and she sat at the door of the cave, too frightened to cry,
fearing a thousand dangers the worse because they were imaginary. Then
she heard a crackling of the branches near the cave and sprang to her
feet joyfully, expecting to see Kadok's black face through the bushes.
"Kadok!" she cried eagerly. The leaves parted and a black face peered
through the bushes, fierce black eyes gazed at the child, as she stood
speechless with astonishment, gazing at a perfectly strange Black. She
did not speak, she was too frightened to scream, and the Black too was
silent. With her floating, golden hair, her wide blue eyes, her fair
cheek turned to gold by the rays of the setting sun, which shone full
upon her, the rest of her body concealed by the branches with which
Kadok had filled the mouth of the cave, she looked like a creature of
air rather than earth, and so the Black thought her. With a wild cry of
"_Kurru! Kurru!_"[16] he let go his hold of the branches, and Jean could
hear him crashing through the bushes in mad haste to get away.
FOOTNOTES:
[13] Expression of satisfaction.
[14] Baiame is the chief god of the Blacks.
[15] This story of the poisoning of nearly a whole tribe of Blacks at a
Christmas feast is vouched for on good authority.
[16] Kurru-kurru is the Dew Dropper or Mist Gatherer, Goddess of the
Blacks and wife of Munuala, the water god.
CHAPTER IX
HOUSEKEEPING IN A CAVE
SHE heard Kadok's voice and called to him excitedly, "Oh, Kadok, come
quick! I am so frightened!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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