Jean, Our Little Australian CousinNixon-Roulet, Mary F.
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Jean, Our Little Australian Cousin
Nixon-Roulet, Mary F.
Children -- Australia -- Juvenile literature
"What matter, little Missa?" asked Kadok as he parted the bushes and
looked at her with anxious face.
"Oh, a strange Black looked at me and ran away!" she said, bursting into
tears.
"Little Missa not cry," said Kadok. "Brought little Missa meat for
supper. What did black man say?"
"A strange word something like curry curry," she said. "He looked
frightened too."
"That good," said Kadok. "He think little Missa not real child. Golden
child. Think him not come again. Kadok glad, for we must stay here one,
two days."
"Oh, Kadok, why? Can't we go to Mother to-morrow?" her voice was full of
tears and the boy's face clouded.
"Kadok very sorry for little Missa," he said. "But no can help. Kadok
got bad hurt on foot. No can walk one, two days. Little Missa help Kadok
get well?"
"Oh, Kadok, how did you hurt yourself?" she asked, as she saw that his
foot was covered with blood.
"Hurt in the scrub," said Kadok, who did not want to tell her the truth,
that he had met a Black who had thrown his _nulla-nulla_[17] and struck
him on the foot, though the boy had managed to get away from him.
"Let me tie it up for you," said Jean. "I've often seen mother dress
Fergus' wounds, for he was always doing things to himself. He always had
at least one finger tied up in a rag."
"Little Missa good," said Kadok as he sat wearily down beside her. He
was worn out and even his brave spirit sank at this new trouble. It
would be several days before he could walk well, he knew, and if the
Black who had wounded him had discovered Jean he would certainly come
back. Would they be safe even for a few hours, he wondered? His chief
hope lay in the fact that if the Black had thought her a vision, he
would fear to return.
Jean scooped up water which stood in a pool at the door of the cave,
washed her pocket-handkerchief and tore it into strips, then bathed
Kadok's foot and tied it up as she had seen her mother do.
"Thank little Missa," said Kadok. "Feel better, make eat now."
"No, I shall make supper to-night," said Jean. "It is time I tried to do
something for you."
She gathered up sticks and bits of bark and laid the fire, which Kadok
carefully lighted, taking one from a box of matches which he had in his
swag, and which he kept tied up in the skin of an animal to keep them
from getting damp. He had brought back a _yopolo_[18] from his hunt in
the forest, and wild bee's honey, and he said to Jean,
"Better not make damper to-night. Save meal for some day we have not
meat."
"I am tired of damper anyway," said Jean. "How shall I cook the meat?"
"Put leaves over hot stones, set yopolo on, all in his skin, cover him
over with earth and he cook very tender," said Kadok, and she followed
his receipt. There was only a little water left in the water-hole, and
that not fresh.
"Where do you get water, Kadok?" asked Jean.
"From the spring," he answered. "Not far, just ten steps in the bushes,
straight ahead from cave, but not safe for little Missa go."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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