The Germ Growers: An Australian story of adventure and mysteryPotter, Robert
Science
The Germ Growers: An Australian story of adventure and mystery
Potter, Robert
Science fiction, Australian
“What do you think now, Jack?” I said.
“Well, it’s rather a bad business about the lozenges,” he replied,
“but as for the car, he has only done what I should have liked to do
myself; we are well rid of it.”
_Easterley._ But where’s the wire?
_Wilbraham._ Well, old man, the wire is not five miles off, you may be
sure of that: most likely not half so far.
_Easterley._ Why do you think so?
_Wilbraham._ Leäfar would never have left unless he knew that we were
near enough. Besides, all our calculations look the same way.
_Easterley._ I wish I could see the situation in the same light. Our
calculations are based on guesses, and may easily be fifty or a
hundred miles astray. And Leäfar most likely did not know that our car
was badly damaged and our food lost. Besides, the other one seemed to
be quite satisfied with what he had done; for he sailed straight away.
But he has not done much after all if he has only dropped us without
hurt within a few miles of the wire.
_Wilbraham._ Well, not much as it has happened, but he was very near
smashing us to pieces, and the spilling of the food was a clever
extra touch. He had got to do something, and he had about a minute to
do it in, and he did his best, or his worst: and as for sailing away,
I take it he was beaten away.
_Easterley._ I hope you may be right. We must never say die, anyway.
But you don’t look well, Jack, though you speak so cheerfully.
_Wilbraham._ I am a bit seedy, I am sure I don’t know why, but I
daresay it will pass off soon.
_Easterley._ I suppose we had better push on, we have most of the day
before us yet, and we had better take some of the food that is left.
But look! what’s that?
_Wilbraham._ A horse, by George! didn’t I tell you?
And a horse it was, but its presence proved after all not to be such a
very good sign as we supposed. We thought at first that it must belong
to some of the telegraph people, but as we drew nearer we saw that it
was Jack’s own horse which had been abandoned in the bush on account
of lameness. Still it was a good sign. Its presence made it much more
likely that we were still west of the wire, and we might possibly make
use of it for travelling, but above all it seemed as if there must be
water near, and that if we stuck to the horse we should find it.
It was quite an easy matter to catch the horse; he had been well
broken in, and his ten or twelve days in the bush had not made him at
all forget his training. He seemed to recognise us, and we thought at
first that his lameness was quite gone.
Then we reckoned up our store of food. We had saved just nine of the
lozenges. We resolved now to take three each, reserving three for the
evening.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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