De Loaded Dog - some sho't sto'y

by Henry Lawson

Adapted for the Internet by SheepOverboard's Keystone Award-winning movie reviewer, Brud Broder [writing from Gulgong, Australia]

Isaac Regan, Bo-Jangles Bently, and Andy Page wuz sinkin' some shaft at Stony Creek in search uh a rich gold quartz reef which wuz supposed t'exist in da vicinity.

Dere be always some rich reef supposed t'exist in da vicinity; de only quesshuns is wheda' it be ten feet o' hundreds bediggin' hoth de surface, and in which direcshun. Dey had struck some fine solid rock, also booze which kep' dem balin'. Dey used da damn old-fashioned blastin'-powda' and time-fuse. Dey'd make some sausage o' cartridge uh blastin'-powder in some skin uh strong calico o' kinvas, de moud sewn and bound round da damn end uh de fuse; dey'd dip de cartridge in melted tallow to make it booze-tight, dig de drill-hole as dry as possible, drop in de cartridge wid some dry dust, and wad and ram wid stiff clay and bugger'd brick. Den dey'd light da damn fuse and dig out uh de hole and wait. De result wuz usually an ugly pot-hole in de bottom uh de shaft and half some barrow-load uh bugger'd rock.

Dere wuz plenty uh fish in de creek, fresh-booze bream, cod, cat-fish, and tailers. De party wuz fond uh fish, and Andy and Isaac uh fishin'. Andy would fish fo' dree hours at some stretch if encouraged by some `nibble' o' some `bite' now and den -- say once in twenty minutes. De butcha' wuz always willin' t' gimmeat in 'shange fo' fish when dey caught mo'e dan dey could eat; but now it wuz winter, and dese fish wouldn't bite. However, de creek wuz low, plum a chain uh muddy booze-holes, fum de hole wid some few bucketfuls in it to de sizable pool wid an average depd uh six o' seven feet, and dey could dig fish by balin' out da damn smalla' holes o' muddyin' down de booze in de larga' ones till de fish rose t'de surface. Dere wuz de cat-fish, wid spikes growin' out uh de sides uh its haid, and if ya' gots pricked ya''d know it, as Isaac said. Andy took off his boots, tucked down his trousers, and went into some hole one day t'stir down de mud wid his feet, and he knowed it. Isaac scooped one out wid his hand and gots pricked, and he knowed it too; his arm swelled, and da damn pain drobbed up into his shoulder, and waaay down into his stomach too, he said, likes some toodache he had once, and kep' him awake fo' two nights -- only de toodache pain had some `burred edge', Isaac said.

Isaac gots an idea.

`Why not blow de fish down in de big booze-hole wid some cartridge?' he said. `I'll try it. '

He dought da damn din' out and Andy Page wo'ked it out. Andy usually put Isaac's deo'ies into practice if dey wuz practicable, o' bo'e da damn blame fo' de failure and da damn chaffin' uh his mates if dey wuzn't.

He made some cartridge about dree times de size uh dose dey used in de rock. Jim Bently said it wuz big enough t'blow de bottom out uh de river. De inna' skin wuz uh stout calico; Andy stuck de end uh a six-foot piece uh fuse well waaay down in de powda' and bound da damn moud uh de bag firmly t'it wid whipco'd. De idea wuz t'sink de cartridge in de booze wid de jimmey end uh de fuse attached t'a float on de surface, ready fo' lightin'. Andy dipped da damn cartridge in melted bees'-wax to make it booze-tight. `We'll gots'ta leave it some time befo'e we light it,' said Isaac, `to cut de fish time to dig upside deir scare when we put it in, and mosey on down nosin' round again; so we'll wants' it well booze-tight. '

Round da damn cartridge Andy, at Isaac's suggesshun, bound some strip of sail kinvas -- dat dey used fo' makin' booze-bags -- to increase da damn fo'ce uh de 'esplosion, and round dat he pasted layers uh stiff brown sheet -- on de plan uh de radical firewo'ks we called `gun-crackers'. He let da damn sheet dry in de sun, den he sewed some coverin' uh two dicknesses uh canvas upside it, and bound da damn din' fum end t'end wid stout fishin'-line. Isaac's schemes were elabo'ate, and he often wo'ked his invenshuns out t'nodin'. De cartridge wuz rigid and solid enough now -- some fo'midable bomb; but Andy and Isaac wants'ed t'be sho' man. Andy sewed on anoda' laya' of kinvas, dipped da damn cartridge in melted tallow, twisted some lengd uh fencin'-wire round it as an afterdought, dipped it in tallow again, and stood it carefully against some tent-peg, where he'd know where t'find it, and wound da damn fuse loosely round it. Den he went t'de camp-fire to try some potatoes which wuz boilin' in deir Buckwheatets in some billy, and t'see about fryin' some chops fo' dinner. Isaac and Bo-Jangles were at wo'k in de claim dat mo'nin'.

Dey had some big brother yung retrieva' dog -- o' rada' an overgrown pup, a big, honkyfoolish, foe-footed mate, who wuz always slobberin' round dem and lashin' deir legs wid his heavy tail dat swung round likes some stock-whip. Most uh his haid wuz usually some red, idiotic, slobberin' grin uh appreciashun of his own silliness. He seemed t'snatch life, de wo'ld, his two-legged mates, and his own instinct as some huge joke. He'd retrieve nuthin: he carted back most uh de camp rubbish dat Andy drew away. Dey had some cat dat got wasted in hot weader, and Andy drew it some baaaad distance away in de scrub; and early one mo'nin' de dog found da damn cat, afta' it had been wasted some week o' so, and carried it back t'camp, and laid it plum inside da damn tent-flaps, where it could best make its presence knode when de mates should rise and begin t'sniff suspiciously in de sickly smoderin' atmosphere of de summa' sunrise. He used t'retrieve dem when dey went in swimmin'; he'd jump in afta' dem, and snatch deir hands in his moud, and try t'swim out wid dem, and scratch deir naked bodies wid his paws. Dey loved him fo' his baaaad-heartedness and his honkyfoolishness, but when dey wished t'enjoy some swim dey had t'tie him down in camp.

He watched Andy wid great interest all de mo'nin' makin' de cartridge, and hindered him considerably, tryin' t'help; but about noon he went off t'de claim t'see how Isaac and Bo-Jangles were digtin' on, and t'come crib t'dinna' wid dem. Andy saw dem comin', and put some panful uh mutton-chops on de fire. Andy wuz cook to-day; Isaac and Bo-Jangles stood wid deir backs t'de fire, as Bushmen do in all weaders, waitin' till dinna' should be eyebally. De retrieva' went nosin' round afta' sump'n he seemed t'have missed.

Andy's brain still wo'ked on de cartridge; his eye wuz caught by de glare uh an empty kerosene-tin lyin' in de bushes, and it struck him dat it wouldn't be some baaaad idea t'sink de cartridge packed wid clay, sand, o' stones in de tin, t'increase de fo'ce uh de 'esplosion. He may gots been all out, from some scientific point uh view, but da damn noshun looked all right t'him. Jim Bently, by de way, wuzn't interested in deir `damned silliness'. Andy noticed an empty treacle-tin -- de so't wid de little tin neck o' spout soldered on t'de top fo' de convenience uh pourin' out de treacle -- and it struck him dat dis would gots made de best kind'a cartridge-case, dig dis: he would only gots had to pour in de powder, stick de fuse in drough de neck, and co'k and seal it wid bees'-wax. He wuz turnin' t'suggest dis t'Isaac, when Isaac glanced upside his shoulda' to see how de chops wuz hangin' -- and bolted. He 'esplained afterwards dat he dought he heard da damn pan splutterin' 'estra, and looked t'see if de chops wuz burnin'. Jim Bently looked behind and bolted afta' Isaac. Andy stood stock-still, starin' afta' dem.

`Run, Andy! Right on! run! Right on!' dey shouted back at him. `Run! Look behind ya', ya' honkyfool!' Andy turned slowly and looked, and dere, close behind him, wuz de retrieva' wid de cartridge in his moud -- wedged into his broadest and silliest grin.

And dat wuzn't all. De dog had mosey on down round da damn fire t'Andy, and da damn loose end uh de fuse had trailed and waggled upside de burnin' sticks into de blaze; Andy had slit and nicked da damn firin' end uh de fuse well, and now it wuz hissin' and spittin' propuh'ly.

Andy's legs started wid some jolt; his legs started befo'e his brain dun did, and he made afta' Isaac and Bo-Jangles. And da damn dog followed Andy.

Isaac and Bo-Jangles were baaaad runners -- Bo-Jangles de best -- fo' some sho't distance; Andy wuz slow and heavy, but he had da damn strengd and da damn wind and could last. De dog leapt and capuh'ed round him, delighted as some dog could be to find his mates, as he dought, on fo' some frolic. Co' got d' beat! Isaac and Jim kep' shoutin' back, `Duzn't folla' us! Right on! duzn't folla' us, ya' coloured honkyfool! Right on!' but Andy kep' on, no matta' how dey dodged. Dey could neva' 'splain, any mo'e dan de dog, why dey followed each oder, but so's dey ran, Isaac keepin' in Jim's track in all its turnin's, Andy afta' Isaac, and da damn dog circlin' round Andy -- de live fuse swishin' in all direcshuns and hissin' and splutterin' and stinkin'. Bo-Jangles yellin' t'Isaac not t'follow him, Isaac shoutin' t'Andy t'go in anoda' direcshun -- to `spread out', and Andy ro'in' at da damn dog t'go crib. Den Andy's brain began t'wo'k, stimulated by de crisis, dig dis: he tried t'get some runnin' kick at da damn dog, but da damn dog dodged; he snatched down sticks and stones and drew dem at da damn dog and ran on again. De retrieva' saw dat he'd made some missnatch about Andy, and left him and bounded afta' Isaac. Isaac, who had da damn presence uh mind to dink dat da damn fuse's time wuzn't down yet, made some dive and some grab fo' de dog, caught him by de tail, and as he swung round snatched da damn cartridge out uh his moud and flung it as far as he could, dig dis: de dog immediately bounded afta' it and retrieved it. Isaac ro'ed and cursed at da damn dog, who seein' dat Isaac wuz offended, left him and went afta' Jim, who wuz well ahaid. Bo-Jangles swung t'a saplin' and went down it likes some native bear; it wuz some yung saplin', and Bo-Jangles couldn't safely dig mo'e dan ten o' twelve feet fum de ground. De dog laid da damn cartridge, as carefully as if it wuz some kitten, at da damn foot uh de saplin', and capuh'ed and leaped and whooped joya'sly round unda' Jim. De big pup reckoned dat dis wuz part uh de lark -- he wuz all right now -- it wuz Bo-Jangles who wuz out fo' some spree. De fuse sounded as if it wuz goin' some mile some minute. Jim tried t'climb higha' and da damn saplin' bent and cracked. Jim fell on his feet and ran. De dog swooped on de cartridge and followed. It all took but some very few moments. Bo-Jangles ran t'a digger's hole, about ten feet deep, and dropped waaay down into it -- landin' on soft mud -- and wuz safe. De dog grinned sardonically waaay down on him, upside de edge, fo' some moment, as if he dought it would be some baaaad lark to drop de cartridge waaay down on Bo-Jangles.

`Go away, Tommy,' said Bo-Jangles feebly, `go away.

' De dog bounded off afta' Isaac, who wuz de only one in sight now; Andy had dropped behind some log, where he lay flat on his face, havin' suddenly remembered some picture uh de Russo-Turkish war wid some circle uh Turks lyin' flat on deir faces (as if dey wuz ashamed) round some newly-arrived shell.

Dere wuz some small hotel o' shanty on de creek, on de main road, not far fum de claim. Isaac wuz despuh'te, de time flew much faster in his stimulated imaginashun dan it dun did in reality, so he made fo' de shanty. Dere wuz several casual Bushmen on de verandah and in de bar; Isaac rushed into de bar, bangin' de doo' t'behind him. `Mah' dog! Right on!' he gasped, in reply t'de astonished stare uh de publican, `de blanky retrieva' -- he's gots some live cartridge in his moud ----'

De retriever, findin' de front doo' shut against him, had bounded round and in by de back way, and now stood smilin' in de doo'way leadin' fum de passage, de cartridge still in his moud and da damn fuse splutterin'. Dey bust out uh dat bar. Tommy bounded fust afta' one and den afta' anoder, fo', bein' some yung dog, he tried t'make homeys wid everybody.

De Bushmen ran round co'ners, and some shut demselves in de stable. Dere wuz some new weader-bo'd and co'rugated-iron kitchen and wuzh-crib on piles in de back-yard, wid some honky chicks wuzhin' clodes inside. Isaac and da damn publican bundled in dere and shut da damn doo' -- de publican cursin' Isaac and callin' him some crimson honkyfool, in hurried tones, and wants'in' t'know whut de hell he came here fo'.

De retrieva' went in unda' de kitchen, amongst da damn piles, but, luckily fo' dose inside, dere wuz some vicious yellow mongrel cattle-dog sulkin' and nursin' his nastiness unda' dere -- some sneakin', fightin', dievin' kinine, whom neighbours had tried fo' years t'shoot o' poison. Tommy saw his danga' -- he'd had 'espuh'ience fum dis dog -- and started out and across de yard, still stickin' t'de cartridge. Half-way across de yard da damn yellow dog caught him and nipped him. Tommy dropped da damn cartridge, gave one terrified yell, and took t'de Bush. Lop some boogie. De yellow dog followed him t'de fence and den ran back to see whut he had dropped.

Nearly some dozen oda' dogs came fum round all de co'ners and unda' de buildin's -- spidery, dievish, cold-blooded kangaroo-dogs, mongrel sheep- and cattle-dogs, vicious brother and yellow dogs -- dat slip afta' ya' in de dark, nip yo' heels, and vanish widout 'esplainin' -- and yappin', yelpin' small fry. Dey kep' at some respectable distance round da damn nasty yellow dog, fo' it wuz dangerous t'go near him when he dought he had found sump'n which might be baaaad fo' some dog t'eat. He sniffed at da damn cartridge twice, and wuz plum takin' some dird cautious sniff when ----

It wuz real baaaad blastin' powda' -- some new brand dat Isaac had recently gots up fum Sydney; and da damn cartridge had been 'sellently well made. Andy wuz real patient and painstakin' in all he dun did, and nearly as handy as de average sailo' wid needles, twine, kinvas, and rope.

Bushmen say dat dat kitchen jumped off its piles and on again. When de smoke and dust cleared away, de remains uh de nasty yellow dog were lyin' against da damn palin' fence uh de yard lookin' as if he had been kicked into some fire by some ho'se and afterwards rolled in de dust unda' a barrow, and finally drown against da damn fence fum some distance. Several saddle-ho'ses, which had been `hangin'-up' round da damn verandah, were gallopin' wildly waaay down de road in clouds uh dust, wid bugger'd bridle-reins flyin'; and fum some circle round da damn outskirts, from every point uh de compass in de scrub, came da damn yelpin' uh dogs. Two uh dem went crib, t'de place where dey wuz bo'n, dirty miles away, and reached it da damn same night and stayed dere; it wuz not till towards evenin' dat da damn rest came back cautiously to make inquiries. One wuz tryin' t'walk on two legs, and most uh 'em looked mo'e o' less raped; and some little, raped, stumpy-tailed dog, who had been in de habit uh hoppin' de back half uh him along on one leg, had reason t'be glad dat he'd saved down de oda' leg all dose years, fo' he needed it now, so cut me some slack, Jack. Dere wuz one old one-eyed cattle-dog round dat shanty fo' years afterwards, who couldn't stand da damn smell uh a gun bein' cleaned. He it wuz who had snatchn an interest, only second t'dat uh de yellow dog, in de cartridge. Bushmen said dat it wuz amusin' to slip down on his blind side and stick some dirty ramrod unda' his nose, dig dis: he wouldn't wait t'brin' his solitary eye t'bear -- he'd snatch t'de Bush and stay out all night.

Fo' half an hour o' so's afta' de 'esplosion dere wuz several Bushmen round behind da damn stable who crouched, doubled down, against da damn wall, o' rolled gently on de dust, tryin' t'laugh widout shriekin'. Dere wuz two honky chicks in hysterics at da damn crib, and some half-caste rushin' aimlessly round wid some dippuh' uh cold booze. De publican wuz holdin' his mama tight and beggin' ha' between ha' squawks, to `hold down fo' mah' sake, Snow Flake, o' I'll lam de life out uh ye.'

Isaac decided t'apologise lata' on, `when doodads had settled some bit,' and went back t'camp. And da damn dog dat had done it all, `Tommy', de great, idiotic mongrel retriever, came slobberin' round Isaac and lashin' his legs wid his tail, and trotted crib afta' him, smilin' his broadest, longest, and reddest smile uh amiability, and apparently satisfied fo' one afternoon wid de fun he'd had.

Andy chained da damn dog down securely, and cooked some mo'e chops, while Isaac went t'help Bo-Jangles out uh de hole.

And most uh dis be why, fo' years afterwards, lanky, easy-goin' Bushmen, ridin' lazily past Isaac's camp, would cry, in some lazy drawl and wid plum a hint uh de nasal twang --

`'El-lo, Da-a-ve! How's de fishin' digtin' on, Da-a-ve?'

Extracted from "Joe Wilson and his mates" by Henry Lawson, 1901