CHAPTER VI.

WESTRALIA.

It was many hours later that Dick woke up, at an unfamiliar noise, feeling stiff and tired and extremely puzzled as to where he was. Bobby, who had awakened him with a dismal little howl, was sitting up in his cot. The two mothers had been dragged away to dinner by the doctor, who had brutally remarked that the boys would sleep just as well if they didn't sit and stare at them, with other wise observations as to the necessity of over-strained people taking nourishment. The steward, who had been left on guard at the hospital, was gossiping placidly outside on the deck.

Dick regarded Bobby sleepily.

"Hullo, kid," he said. "Don't howl."

"Isn't howlin'," returned Bobby, untruthfully. "Wants my muvver." His lips quivered. "I tumbled into the water," he said, his blue eyes suddenly misty.

"So you did," said Dick, memory coming back to him. "Weren't you an ass? Never mind, you got out all right."

"It wasn't nice," said Bobby, miserably. The eyes brimmed over. "Don't like this funny place. Want to come an' 'nuggle on your bed."

"Come on, then," Dick said.

Bobby made an effort to clamber out, but relapsed into his blankets.

"My legs is all funny and horrid," he said. "They--they won't work." Tears were in his voice. "Wants to 'nuggle wiv you--wants my muvver!"

"Well, you stay there--I'll come," Dick said, hurriedly.

He climbed out, realising fully the moment he moved Bobby's accusation against his legs. His own felt as though they belonged to someone entirely different--Mr. Warner for choice, for they felt enormous. He found himself glad to hold on to the cot after he was on the floor, and his progress across to Bobby was slow and painful.

"What's the matter?" Bobby asked. "Is your legs funny, too?"

"Jolly funny," Dick returned. He climbed in beside the tearful Bobby, who clung to him vehemently--and somehow Dick was not sorry for the warm, comforting touch. He was desperately stiff and weary; he, also, wanted his mother every bit as much as the small boy who snuggled against him. He put his arm round him.

"Just you go to sleep, old chap," he said--and in a moment followed his own advice.

"Ain't never stirred, mum," was the calm assurance of the steward at the door, ten minutes later, when the anxious mothers came hurrying back from dinner. "I been sittin' in there near 'em--they----"

His jaw dropped and the mothers gave a stifled exclamation at sight of the two heads on Bobby's pillow--both boys fast asleep. The steward, when taken outside for purposes of discussion, found difficulty in inventing a suitable explanation, cut short by the arrival of the doctor, who remarked that he would attend to him later, and went to inspect the patients.

"Well, they're all right, anyhow," he said. "But I'd like to know how young Dick felt on his journey across."

It was a journey of which Dick had no recollection when he woke for the second time, four hours later; and he was sufficiently astonished at finding Bobby beside him. The mothers were close by; at Dick's first movement Mrs. Lester came swiftly to the side of the cot. Presently, just as Bobby too awoke, came the doctor; and close on his heels, the repentant steward, bearing hot soup, which seemed to the boys the most heavenly thing they had ever tasted. They ate it, and asked for more, and would have made a gallant effort at that, too, had not sleep overcome them again. Bobby tumbled asleep almost over his bowl, and his father, coming in, carried him off to his mother's cabin; and presently, just as Dick was settling to a dream, the big man was back, and this time it was Dick whom he picked up like a baby and carried down the long alleyways; not to their own cabin, but to the spare bunk in Mrs. Lester's, which had been made ready for Dick. She was waiting for him, ready to tuck him up. It was comforting to think she would be near him. He was very sleepy--too sleepy to do more than wonder when, as he put him down, Bobby's father said, huskily, "God bless you, old chap," and brushed his forehead with his lips--and then went hurriedly out.

It was all like a dream when Dick woke next day, still a little stiff, but otherwise feeling his usual self. Mrs. Lester was asleep, which was not unnatural, seeing that she had been up at ten-minute intervals throughout the night, to bend over him and make sure that he was still breathing. He got up softly, and slipped out for his bath; somewhat embarrassed, on his return, by the necessity for hunting out fresh clothing in his own cabin--though he had long ceased to have any fear of waking Mr. Warner, which, indeed, was a task beyond the average small boy. He managed to get dressed at last, and went up on deck.

A steward gave him tea, and asked feelingly "how he was keeping?" A quarter-master came over to him and inquired, "All right, this morning, after your swim?" The third officer, very busy with landing preparations, tossed him a greeting across the deck, and asked if he thought the water would be nice for bathing. Dick began to feel rather hot, and moved away to another part of the deck, where there might be people who had failed to notice yesterday's adventure. There, however, he met the captain, who patted him on the head, and said, "Good kid; where did you pick up high diving?" and just after he had escaped from this encounter, who should come along, stately and tall, but the Bishop's wife, who made a kind of run at him, grasped his hands, and said, "My child, how can we express our feelings of gratitude and admiration?" which so terrified Dick that he broke away without ceremony, and, muttering something incoherent, fled as he would never have fled from the most infuriated bullock. He went round a deck house at a run, and cannoned into Merle Warner, who scowled and said, exactly as she had said on the first morning at sea, "Can't you look where you're going, silly?"

Dick burst out laughing.

"I wish you'd say that again," he said.

"Why?" demanded Merle, blankly.

"'Cause it sounded quite decent. Everybody else on this blessed ship is talking such bosh!"

"What sort of bosh?"

Dick turned red.

"Oh, nothing," he said. There was a moment's pause, and then Merle flushed in her turn.

"I say--thanks for goin' in after Bobby," she said awkwardly.

Dick gave a kind of howl of disgust.

"Oh, you, too!" he cried. "I say, do chuck it. If you knew how sick I am of hearing about it!"

"Oh, all right," said Merle, plainly comprehending this point of view, and relieved to find that no more politeness was expected of her. Somewhat to her surprise, however, she found herself making further conversation:

"You glad we're gettin' in to-day?"

"Oh, rather!" Dick's face suddenly lit up. "I like the ship--but I'm awfully keen to see father."

"Whose father?"

"Mine, of course. He's coming out from England--we're going to meet him at Fremantle."

"Oh, I didn't know," Merle said. "Has he been long away?

"Over a year," Dick said. "Seems about ten."

"A year!" Merle's eyes grew round. Life without a father seemed an impossible thing.

"'M," Dick nodded. "It's been jolly nice to be with your father on this ship. A fellow misses his father a bit, I can tell you."

"'Spect you do," Merle said. "When's yours coming?"

"To-morrow, some time, his boat gets in," Dick answered. "He's on the _Ohio_." His eyes were dancing; somehow, as Merle met their glance, she smiled in spite of herself. "I guess mother and I will be on the old pier pretty early."

There was a moment's pause, while they looked at each other like two awkward young puppies.

"I better go an' see if mother wants me," Merle said at length.

"Right oh!" Dick answered with alacrity.

They parted with a glance that, at any rate, was semi-friendly. Merle went away with a feeling that she had been, as usual, a pig. She had been grudging her father, for a few days, to a boy who had not seen his own father for over a year--twelve whole months! It was a bit low down. And on top of this, he must go into the sea after Bobby, which made her feel more of a pig than ever, especially as he did not seem inclined to make a fuss about it. Merle was accustomed to put an end to such uncomfortable thoughts by shrugging her shoulders and reflecting that, after all, no one expected her to be anything but a pig, so what did it matter? But this time she found herself unexpectedly troubled about it.

Dick made his way swiftly to the companion, in the vain hope of eluding his fellow-passengers. But the ship was getting up for breakfast--everyone was coming on deck, or going along the alleyways in search of baths, and he met a string of inquiries, congratulations and compliments that reduced him to the lowest pitch of shy discomfort. The Bishop, extraordinarily human in pyjamas and a short dressing-gown, patted him on the back and said, "Feel all right, old man?" which was easier to bear than most of the greetings. But the flappers fairly oozed over him, the men pumped his hand, while he tried vainly to edge past them, and Miss Simpson, holding him tightly by the arm, made him a speech, in which Dick vaguely recognised quotations from the prayer book. He escaped, scarlet cheeked, and ran with his head down, darting round the corner towards his own cabin, and there ran into Mrs. Warner, who said nothing at all, but only looked at him piteously, with her mouth trembling, just as Bobby's had trembled the night before, and then put out her hands to him suddenly and kissed him. Somehow, to his own astonishment, Dick did not mind it at all. He found himself patting her very hard, and saying, "Never you mind, he's all right." He felt so terribly sorry for her that he forgot all about himself, and they went to breakfast with Mrs. Lester, while Mr. Warner remained with Bobby, whose legs were still refusing duty, though his appetite was unimpaired.

Land was in sight--the coast of Western Australia, and there was much bustle of packing and preparing to leave the ship.

"It isn't a very interesting-looking coast," Mrs. Warner said, looking at the low line of sandy hills. "But I remember what it meant to me when I came back from two years in England when I was nineteen. I had been desperately home sick all those two years, and when at last the homeward voyage was nearly over it almost seemed to kill me with joy. I couldn't sleep the night before, and I got up before dawn to see the land--it was like heaven, as it came slowly out of the mist. West Australia!"

"But you weren't a 'sand groper' yourself?" said the doctor.

"Oh no; I was a Sydneysider. But you don't worry about inter-state differences when you're coming home--Australia is all that matters."

"I wonder if father's thinking that," Dick said.

"Most certainly--as you're going to meet him at Fremantle!" said the doctor, laughing. "Otherwise I fancy he'd be stretching out his neck towards Port Phillip Bay, and regarding anything between as an annoying interlude."

"Well--that may be," admitted Mrs. Lester demurely. "Come on, Dickie, we must finish our packing."

The _Moondarra_ slipped quietly into Fremantle Harbour while they were still in their cabins; Dick's first intimation of the fact being a shadow across the port-hole as a yacht's tall masts slipped by, followed by the blackened smoke stack of a collier. He jumped up on his bunk to peer out. The land was very close; a confused jumble of uninteresting red-brick houses met his eyes, and a mass of shipping of all sorts and sizes. The western sea gate of Australia is busy, but unbeautiful. Dick remarked, "H'm--about up to Port Melbourne!" and got down again to finish locking a suit-case.

"Can I help you, Dick? We're nearly in."

"Just finished, mother, thanks. Did the steward strap up your trunks?"

"He's doing them now. Dick, I have been talking to Mr. Warner; they are going to an hotel in Perth, and he suggests that we should go there too; it is the best, he says."

"Right oh, mother. And where's Perth?"

"What do I send you to school for?" demanded Mrs. Lester laughing.

"Oh, I know it's on the Swan," said Dick, grinning in his turn. "But is it far?"

"Only a few miles. Mr. Warner advises us to go up by motor."

"That would be jolly!" Dick exclaimed. "I say, mother--can we go to the Orient office and ask about father's boat?"

"We'll go there at once," said Mrs. Lester. "Dick, are you sure you feel all right?"

"Right as pie," Dick answered, unpoetically. "Don't you worry about me, old mother." He got up, putting his arm into hers. "Come on deck and see new things."

There was not much new, save that anything is a change to eyes that for several days have seen nothing but sea and sky. The _Moondarra_ was slowly warping into the wharf, amidst a mass of shipping. A knot of interested people stood watching her come, some of them exchanging signals with her passengers; but the centre of attraction, ashore and afloat, was the big P. and O. liner that had passed them in the Bight. She was on the point of sailing, her gangways already drawn up; and a big crowd was watching her go. Somewhere a band was playing "Auld Lang Syne"; the sweet notes came dreamily across the water. Slowly she drew out from the pier. There were confused sounds--shouts of farewell, cheering, long coo-ees shrilling a last Australian call. Her wash set the _Moondarra_ rocking.

"Isn't she splendid!" Dick breathed.

She was very splendid, as she moved slowly out past the breakwater, fronting the wide sweep of western seas that tossed between her and the old world whither she was bound. A German submarine was to send her to the bottom years later--without warning, leaving her freight of helpless souls to the mercy of an angry sea. But the veil of the future was drawn yet: stately and secure, the great ship went out, scarcely rocking to the great ocean swells that rolled in to meet her. The cheering and the long cries of farewell died away.

Simultaneously the gangway of the _Moondarra_ went down, and people poured on board, friends meeting passengers, hotel and motor touts, carriers, shipping agents. Mr. Warner's deep voice boomed behind the Lesters.

"Been looking for you," he said. "Not in a hurry, are you? It's pleasanter to wait until the first rush has gone. Then I can get you a good car from an hotel if you like."

Mrs. Lester thanked him, and they stood chatting until Merle arrived to say that Bobby was ready. His father disappeared hastily, presently returning, carrying his small son, whose extremely cheerful face showed only amusement at being unable to walk. Mrs. Warner followed. They deposited Bobby in a deck-chair, and smiled down at him.

"How are the legs now, Bobby?" Mrs. Lester

"They's nearly all right, only they wobbles," said Bobby. "Doctor says they'll stop wobbling to-morrow." He grinned delightedly. "I is just awful funny when I tries to walk!"

"He is too," echoed his father, laughing. "He'd make his fortune in a circus. Bobby, man, do you see we're nearly home?"

"'M," nodded Bobby. "Where's the twinses?"

"Oh, we'll get the twinses soon--Grannie has them."

"And when do we go to own-truly home?"

"In a few days. Will you be glad, old son?"

"Wather!" said Bobby. "Micky's there!"

"And when he gets on Micky's back nothing else in the world matters," said his mother, with a half sigh. "I sometimes wonder if either of the twinses will be domesticated--there's no sign of my two eldest being anything but stock riders!"

The crowd on the ship had almost cleared away, swallowed up by motors and cabs, and the business of unloading cargo was beginning, with its rattle of cranes and winches.

"Well there'll soon be too much noise here to be pleasant," said Mr. Warner. "Are you ready, Mrs. Lester? Shall I go after cars?"

"Quite ready--my luggage is all on deck," she told him.

"Then, come on, Dick, and we'll go car hunting."

They went together down the gangway--there was a new stab of the old jealous pain in Merle's heart as she watched them go. Mrs. Lester called her to her side with a question about Fremantle--her keen eyes had noticed the shadow on the little girl's face.

"I am shockingly ignorant of this part of the world," she said, laughing. "You are an old inhabitant, so you must tell me all about it"; and she kept her near, making her talk, until Merle had forgotten her troubles.

Dick followed Mr. Lester along the wharf, and up a wide and dusty street, until they came to one rather wider and a little less dusty, where trams rattled and business seemed brisk. There were big shops and fine buildings, and people moved about as though they had no time to dawdle. There is always a kind of feverish activity about a city that lives by shipping. Other places may doze sleepily between trains, waking now and then to send off or receive mails, but a seaport knows no time-table, and is busy all the time, as the big ships come and go, and the blue-clad sailors hurry along its streets. So Perth lies dreamily on the borders of its wide river, and, but a few miles off, Fremantle, like a busy watchdog, never seems to rest.

They found a garage that readily supplied Mr. Warner with two cars, in one of which they were soon back at the _Moondarra_, where they found the others waiting on the wharf. Carriers had taken their heavier luggage; lighter effects were quickly packed in, and presently they were gliding along a well-kept road, where sparse gum trees fringed bungalow houses set in gardens flaming with many unfamiliar flowers. The motors made short work of the distance; soon they could see the buildings of Perth, and then a gleam of silver, and a turn in the road brought them out beside the Swan, a wide, shining expanse, dotted with the white sails of many little yachts. Dick uttered a delighted whistle.

"I say! Did you know it was such a big river, mother?"

"No, I didn't," admitted his mother. "Why it is almost a lake! What an ideal place for yachting!"

Perth seemed to think so, for the boats were legion; fairy-like yachts, little rowing skiffs, motor-boats chugging across the rippled surface, and even canoes, their broad paddles flashing in the sunlight as they dipped and fell. Boat-houses were thick along the banks: here and there the big buildings of yachting clubs, with wide verandahs and balconies overhanging the water. All the river was full of the stir of moving boats.

"I think this is a jolly place," Dick pronounced, solemnly.

The car turned from the river and ran along a wide, tree-fringed road, and in a moment they were in the heart of Perth itself, winding in and out of the traffic until they stopped before a big hotel. Mr. Warner was before them. Their rooms were already engaged, and a boy in buttons took them up and brought their luggage. Dick was kneeling on the floor in his mother's room unstrapping her dressing-case, when a knock came to the door. Mrs. Lester opened it.

Mr. Warner stood there, his enormous bulk seeming to fill the corridor.

"I ran out to the Orient office, it's no distance from here," he said, beaming at them. "The _Ohio_ comes in at ten o'clock to-morrow morning. And there's a wireless for you!"

He held out a thin brown envelope. Then he was gone, and the door shut, and Mrs. Lester was tearing at the envelope with fingers that shook.

"All well. Love to you both."

"Dickie!" she said, catching at the boy; "Dickie." They clung together for a moment, and the flimsy paper that was like a dear voice speaking after twelve months of silence fluttered to the ground between them.