Читать книгу The Boy in the Bush онлайн

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"That's the lot!" called Mr. Ellis.

"Good-bye, Jack!" said Mr. George, leaning his grey head out of the coach. "Be good and you'll be happy."

Over which speech Jack puzzled mutely. But the floss-haired baby girl was embracing his trouser legs.

"I never knew you were an Ellis," he said to her.

"Ay, she's another of 'em," said Mr. Ellis.

The coach was going. Jack went over awkwardly and offered the driver a two-shilling piece.

"Put it back in y'r pocket, lad, y'll want it more than I shall," said Grey unceremoniously. "The best o' luck to you, an' I mean it."

They all packed into the shay, Jack sitting with his back to the horses, the little girl tied in beside him, his smaller luggage bundled where it could be stowed; and in absolute silence they drove through the silence of the standing, motionless gum trees. Jack had never felt such silence. At last they pulled up. Tom jumped down and drew a slip-rail, and they passed a log fence, inside which there were many sheep, though it was still bush. Tom got in again and they drove through bush, with occasional sheep. Then Tom got down again—Jack could not see for what purpose. The youth fetched an axe out of the cart and started chopping. A tree was across the road: he was chopping at the broken part. There came a sweet scent.