Islands of the Pacific -- Juvenile fiction; Sea stories; Treasure troves -- Juvenile fiction
“We might sign on a coastal boat for a few weeks,” Dave suggested.
“Yes, and just when we want to be in Sydney find ourselves in some
out-of-the-way hole. You don’t know these Australian trading coasters
as I do, my son. They go when they want to and get back when they get
back if they don’t happen to pick up a chance cargo for somewhere else.
I know what would be good sport, as I did it myself once, about five
years ago.”
“What is that?”
“A kangaroo shooting trip. I went into the bush with an old hand at the
game, and we had a perfectly gorgeous time barring when a snake crept
over me while I was sleeping. Nice little fellow he was, all the colors
of the rainbow. I could see the colors perfectly, as the moon was
shining, and I took particular notice of him because only the previous
day I’d had his tribe described to me. The old kangaroo hunter had been
saying there wasn’t a snake in the bush that he really minded except
that sort, as once he had a partner who trod on one and tied himself
into seventeen different kinds of knots before he died, all in the
course of ten minutes.”
“Did you get any kangaroos?”
“Lots of ’em, and wallabys and things. We skinned the beasts and hung
the pelts on trees in a straight line so that we could find them all
again. We were in the bush about two months, and came back with all
the skins our pack horses could carry. I’d signed on as a sort of
supercargo for that trip, not being an expert shot, but I got a third
of the proceeds, which amounted to seventy pounds, or about three
hundred and fifty dollars in American money.”
“Let’s go kangaroo hunting,” Dave urged, hugely delighted at the
prospect of life in the bush. “I can’t shoot, but I can cook finely.”
Tempest grinned.
“Sorry to disappoint you,” he said. “You tell me where we can put our
hands on the price of horses and guns, and enough grub to last a couple
of months, and then find a kangaroo hunter who is willing to take us
along, and I’ll fix the trip up, sure enough.”
“Is that all!” Dave said resignedly. “It does look as though we shall
have to work. But, I say, why didn’t you go with your old partner
again?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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