Preparations for the blacks' Christmas feast were at once proceeded
with. A camp of aboriginals living by a small lakelet eighteen miles off
was visited, and the natives there were informed of a great feast that
was to be given thirty days later, and were told to tell other blacks to
come too, with their wives and piccaninnies.
[Sidenote: A large order]
Orders were sent to the nearest town, fifty-three miles off, for six
cases of oranges, a gross of gingerbeer, and all the dolls, penknives
and tin trumpets in stock; also (for Jack got wildly extravagant over
his project) for fifty cotton shirts, and as many pink dresses of the
readymade kind that are sold in Australian stores. These all came about
a fortnight before Christmas, and at the same time our expected visitor
arrived.
She at once got wildly enthusiastic when my husband told her of his
plan, and threw herself into the preparations with refreshing energy.
She and I, and the native servants we had, toiled early and late,
working like galley-slaves making bread-stuffs for the feast. Knowing
whom I had to provide for, I confined myself to making that Australian
standby--damper, and simple cakes, but Maggie produced a wonderfully
elaborate and rich bun for their delectation, which she called a
"Selkirk bannock," and which I privately thought far too good for them.
Well, the day came. Such a Christmas as you can only see and feel in
Australia; the sky cloudless, the atmosphere breezeless, the temperature
one hundred and seven degrees in the shade.
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