第42章

A man rang a bell violently, shouting, "This way for the dairy cows!" Dad went that way, closely followed by Dave, who was silent and strange. Aboy put a printed catalogue into Dad's hand, which he was doubtful about keeping until he saw Andy Percil with one. Most of the men seated on the rails jumped down into an empty yard and stood round in a ring. In one corner the auctioneer mounted a box, and read the conditions of sale, and talked hard about the breed of the cattle. Then:

"How much for the imported cow, Silky? No.1 on the catalogue. How much to start her, gentlemen?"Silky rushed into the yard with a shower of sticks flying after her and glared about, finally fixing her gaze on Dad, who was trying to find her number in the catalogue.

"A pure-bred 'Heereford,' four years old, by The Duke out of Dolly, to calve on the eighth of next month," said the auctioneer. "How much to start her?"All silent. Buyers looked thoughtful. The auctioneer ran his restless eyes over them.

Dad and Dave held a whispered consultation; then Dad made a movement.

The auctioneer caught his eye and leant forward.

"FIVE BOB!" Dad shouted. There was a loud laugh. The auctioneer frowned.

"We're selling COWS, old man," he said, "not running a shilling-table."More laughter. It reached Dave's heart, and he wished he had n't come with Dad.

Someone bid five pounds, someone else six; seven-eight-nine went round quickly, and Silky was sold for ten pounds.

"Beauty" rushed in.

Two station-hands passed among the crowd, each with a bucket of beer and some glasses. Dad hesitated when they came to him, and said he did n't care about it. Dave the same.

Dad ran "Beauty" to three pound ten shillings (all the money he had), and she was knocked down at twelve pounds.

Bidding became lively.

Dave had his eye on the men with the beer--he was thirsty. He noticed no one paid for what was drunk, and whispered his discovery to Dad. When the beer came again, Dad reached out and took a glass. Dave took one also.

"Have another!" said the man.

Dave grinned, and took another.

Dad ran fifteen cows, successively, to three pounds ten shillings.

The men with the beer took a liking to Dave. They came frequently to him, and Dave began to enjoy the sale.

Again Dad stopped bidding at three pounds ten shillings.

Dave began to talk. He left his place beside Dad and, hat in hand, staggered to the middle of the yard. "WOH!" he shouted, and made an awkward attempt to embrace a red cow which was under the hammer.

"SEV'N POUN'--SEV'N POUN'--SEV'N POUN'," shouted the auctioneer, rapidly.

"Any advance on sev'n POUN'?"

"WENNY (hic) QUID," Dave said.

"At sev'n poun' she's GOING?"

"Twenny (hic) TWO quid," Dave said.

"You have n't twenty-two PENCE," snorted the auctioneer.

Then Dave caught the cow by the tail, and she pulled him about the yard until two men took him away.

The last cow put up was, so the auctioneer said, station-bred and in full milk. She was a wild-looking brute, with three enormous teats and a large, fleshy udder. The catalogue said her name was "Dummy.""How much for 'Dummy,' the only bargain in the mob--how much for her, gentlemen?"Dad rushed "Dummy." "Three poun' ten," he said, eagerly.

The auctioneer rushed Dad. "YOURS," he said, bringing his hammer down with a bang; "you deserve her, old man!" And the station-manager chuckled and took Dad's name--and Dad's money.

Dad was very pleased, and eager to start home. He went and found Dave, who was asleep in a hay-stack, and along with Steven Burton they drove the cow home, and yarded her in the dark.

Mother and Sal heard the noise, and came with a light to see Dad's purchase, but as they approached "Dummy" threatened to carry the yard away on her back, and Dad ordered them off.

Dad secured the rails by placing logs and the harrow against them, then went inside and told Mother what a bargain he'd made.

In the morning Dad took a bucket and went to milk "Dummy." All of us accompanied him. He crawled through the rails while "Dummy" tore the earth with her fore-feet and threw lumps of it over the yard. But she was n't so wild as she seemed, and when Dad went to work on her with a big stick she walked into the bail quietly enough. Then he sat to milk her, and when he took hold of her teats she broke the leg-rope and kicked him clean off the block and tangled her leg in the bucket and made a great noise with it. Then she bellowed and reared in the bail and fell down, her head screwed the wrong way, and lay with her tongue out moaning.

Dad rose and spat out dirt.

"Dear me!" Mother said. "it's a WILD cow y' bought.""Not at all," Dad answered; "she's a bit touchy, that's all.""She tut-tut--TUTCHED YOU orright, Dad," Joe said from the top of the yard.

Dad looked up. "Get down outer THAT!" he yelled. "No wonder the damn cow's frightened."Joe got down.

Dad brought "Dummy" to her senses with a few heavy kicks on her nose, and proceeded to milk her again. "Dummy" kicked and kicked. Dad tugged and tugged at her teats, but no milk came. Dad could n't understand it.

"Must be frettin'," he said.

Joe owned a pet calf about a week old which lived on water and a long rope.

Dad told him to fetch it to see if it would suck. Joe fetched it, and it sucked ravenously at "Dummy's" flank, and joyfully wagged its tail.

"Dummy" resented it. She plunged until the leg-rope parted again, when the calf got mixed up in her legs, and she trampled it in the ground. Joe took it away. Dad turned "Dummy" out and bailed her up the next day--and every day for a week--with the same result. Then he sent for Larry O'Laughlin, who posed as a cow doctor.

"She never give a drop in her life," Larry said. "Them's BLIND tits she have."Dad one day sold "Dummy" for ten shillings and bought a goat, which Johnson shot on his cultivation and made Dad drag away.