A BUSHMAN AFLOAT.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXX, Issue 8440, 13 May 1907, Page 5

A BUSHMAN AFLOAT.

JBy ALBERT DORRINGTQN. ' (Author of "Along the Castlereagh," "Children of the Gully," etc.) i (Published by special arrangement. —Copyright reserved.) IV.—ADELAIDE. Arrived at Largs Bay on March 14th. A train-ride of seven cr eight miles through several sand-ridden suburbs brought u3 to the capital of S.A. Adelaide is without doubt the silver-tail of Australian cities. It is piquant' and more respectable than the average vestryman. The near hills that stand out so sharply in the morning air, the jingle of the horse trams, give it' the appearance

of a Mexican city. We found parks and churches and more parks. In our haste to be rid of a telegram we mistook the G.P.O. for anotner church. The hurrying! crowds and gangs of loiterers so appar- * ent within the precincts of Melbourne and Sydney Post Offices are nowhere visible here. Two or three boys idled within its courtlike entrance. A strange man with American whiskers aud accent stated in a loud voice that we were in the city of t'he dead. He said that several more or less dead people haunted the Post Office during husiness hours • in quest of

stamps and other refreshments. He walked round us delibertely and offered to show us where to put our letters. He was sorry, he said, for people who came to the city of the dead. He had come there himself, only a month before, under the impression that it was a living, breathing place where men could address each other in loud voices and get drunk. He told us in his best

Chicago voice that he had offered a j patent, nickel-plated stamp-licking machine to the ti.A. Government for £6OO. Nothing had come of it. The. Government had merely offered him its silent'respectable ear. Ten minutes later he tried to sell us a gold watch for £3 15s —one that belonged to his dead wife. Adelaide is not so tame as it looks. < It rose early one morning recently and gaoled its ex-ilayor on a charge of fraud and embezzlement. Sydney would sooner uie of plague or train-

scare than see one of its councillors safely inside a healthy stone gaol. Some difference between the men of the South. The Sydneyite will borrow your last shilling. The Melbourne man is satisfied to toss you for drinks; but the Adelaide chap is simply artful—he waits for you patiently, and tries to sell you nis grandmother's gold watch. We heard several girls singing inside an up-to-date restaurant. We entered and ordered breakfast hurriedly. Steak and poached eggs. A red-haired girl tripped in ainging "Mollie Riley," as she took our order. She told us frankly that she could not help sinigng when she waited on brown-faced strangers from the Uackbiocks. We felt glad. .

Bill reckons that we ought to give Adelaide a good character, 'inerefore we take back the opinion ar.ent the artfulness of the city, ana: apologise by saying that • Adelaide is the plane where "'Mollie Riley" sounds well with poached eggs. THE BOAT-CATCHER.

We returned to the station in lime to see the 12 a.m. boat-train depart. Nice fix. Steamer timed to leave Largs Bay at 2 sharp. We fretted up and down the platform until the 12.30 started, hoping that some unforeseen accident would delay the Orotava another half-hour.

Mail steamers have a tricky habit of sailing on time. When we arrived at Largs Bay we observed the Orotava moving slowly and gracefully from her anchorage. Here was a uelemma! Only a few shillings in our pockets, and no possible hope of catching her before she reached Marseilles. Our luggage, circular notes, etc., were steering cheerfully towards the horizon. While I was staring dumbly at the departing vessel, Bill had leaped down the pier steps and button-holed a grey-whiskered plug of a man squatting in the stern of a small motorrlaunch. I heard Bill's voice rise above the thrash of the tide; I saw his hands poised between heaven and sea. The man in the motor-launch sat still as could be; his glassy, seablown eye gazing into space. And Bill's voice was round and above him in nine different Iceys. He explained that all his hopes of future salvation lay aboard the fast-moving mail steamer. Would the kind gentleman who owned the launch give chase and put us aboard for a reasonable sum—five shillings, say? The light of reason came slowly into the launch proprietor's eyes. He drew a short pipe from his pocket, and scraped it carefully with a knife. "Blamed if we ain't goin't6 have some weather!" he said huskily. "Bit black over Semaphore way." Bill sat beside him and held his hand half fiercely. He explained that the mail boat was, leaving us behind. He repeated his argument in a voice full of suppressed rage. t The little old man heard him sorrowfully, but made no attempt to put off. He told us that the business of catching mail boats was full of peril and hardships. Only a month before his launch, had been struck, by a departing steamer's propeller while endeavouring to put a couple of desperately belated passengers board. "We'll make it half-a-sovereign, then!" said Bill hoarsely. "And we'll take all chances." The launch-owner glanced dreamfully at the skyline as though it were a distant relation of his. By no word or smile did he acknowledge Bill's offer. We breathed miserably and waited for the old man to speak. "If it was for me own child I couldn't do it," he said at last. "It's a terrible long way from' here to the steamer, an' she's tearrin' up the water more'n I care about." Bill spoke again, and ( therj was another ten shillings in his voice. Nothing happened. It seemed to us as though the grey-whiskered old battler had been bargaining with desperate passengers all his life. His old sea-blown eyes measured the horizon and the throbbing keel of the outgoing ship leisurely.

"I'll do it fer ye," he said, after a wlule, "if ye'll make it another halfcrown. " We closed with the offer and sprang aboard nimbly, and were, soon tearing horizonwards in £the direction of the Orotava's black smoke-line. "We ain't got no hope," drawled the old man dismally. "It's a terrible waste of time chasin' a 16-knot mail boat." The motor-launch fretted' and plunged in the wake of the leviathan. 1 A ci'owd of inquisitive passengers gathered on the starboard side and watched us jubilantly. We could I hear them betting on our chance of being taken aboard alive. "They'll slow down when they sight us," said.Bill hopefully, "They wouldn't leave "us behind." "Them slow down!" grunted the boat-chaser.. "Why, if yerwife an' family was cryin' out to ye over the railthey wouldn't let down a pound of steam. Mail boats ain't got nofeelin's, young man." The great onrushing. steamer was indifferent to our presence. Like a blind colossus she wore seaward, hooting and clearing the blue with her giant shoulders. Several lady passengers waved their handkerchiefs to us.

"If ye'd make it another five bob,'* broke in the old man. "I'll open her out an' chance it." " » We counted out another five shillings. The old man pocketed it lazily , and smiled. "Hold on!" he shouted suddenly. "We'll board her on the port side." ' . The launch seemed to leap forward through the blinding spray, shivering and rattling as the seas slapped her hood and funnel. Foot by foot we gained on the Orotava until we ran drenched and half-blinded, under her port davits. The bos'n's head appeared casually over the rail. He regarded us coldly and with evident disfavour. "This sort of thing's against the* regulations," he said loudly. "Why don't you come aboard in the proper way." "Now, Joe!" cried our boat-catcher oilily. "These two chaps are breaking their heart 3 t.o 'ave a bottle of wine with you." The bos'n was silent. His head disappeared suddenly; then a long wat rope struck us with the force 6$ a well-flung lariat. "Up fer yer (jloives!" shouted th© old man. "Upan'hold!" ' Luckily there was no sea on .as we clung tooth and nail to the line. Bill scrambled after me with the celerity of a man'-o'-war's-man. Wet,' but grateful, we tumbled over the rail. An officer passed us smartly as we stepped oh deck. Bill saluted sarcastically. "Yer might have waited half a minute," he said loudly. "Me an J ■ me mate represent sixty pounds* worth of passage money." The officer looked witheringly at Bill, but made no reply. "Suppose," said Bill, following him leisurely; "suppose one of your iifty-pound lifeboats had broken loose; would you have stopped to pick it up!" The officer turned, eyed him curiously and vanished duwn the saloon stairs. "My word you would!" cried Bill. "You'd have slewed round an' thrown the patent gaso.. eter over the ship's parullogram!" The stewards are amiable, fellows. Constant intercourse* with passengers makes them nimbleminded and human. The ship's officer l is a different fellow. If you address him suddenly be will look at you for 90 seconds without answering. And if you say things about his gold braid and unimpeachable pants he .. will retire and invite another uniformed creature to look hard in your direction. . Most of the firemen snd sailors say "Baa!" whenever Bill passes along the denk. He doesn't, mind. He told the other nightJ;hat he'd sooner be mistaken for a crow than a ship's greaser.

It must be admitted that he annoys these Cockney firemen. ;; Whenever they oirie up from below he barks at them from the taffrail. It is a real kird of a bark that causes them to skip round and Claw the air with both bands. Bill.learned the barking trick when he lost* his dog while taking a mob of sheep from Gunnedah to Narrabri once. The run across the Bight from Adelaide in Fremantle is sometimes an uneventful performance. While idling below we discovered casually that our mattresses were stuped with seaweed. No wonder we sleep, like Polrr bears. Seaweed makes an exI cellent bed. It gives out a slight flavour of ozone not Unlike St. Kilda beach at low tide. We intend asking the ship's doctor whether seaweed mattresess are in- \ tended as a cure for insomnia. Nice little article for a journalist. Seaweed mattresses! A Cure for Broken-down Nerves! London likes to hear about its broken-down nerves. (To be Continued).