Jessa looked with interest as the car made short distance of the miles between Billaroo, Margaret
’
s home, and the
Biggabilla strip.
It was certainly different country, as Mr. South had said. At Crescent, the keynote was lush fertility. That was only to be expected on a sub-tropical isle. But here the country was bare, almost barren, and there were only occasional knottings of kurrajong trees.
Mr. South, taking his eye off the long dusty road for a moment, explained that the barrenness was only illusion, however.
“
It
’
s not as sterile as you
’
re thinking, Miss Barlow. Up here is good grazing country, indeed one of the best. There
’
s food on that billiard table
”—
he waved his arm to the flats
—“
and take my word.
”
“
Is only grazing carried on?
”
“
We self-support,
”
said Mr. South,
“
as far as our fourteen
-
inch rainfall will allow. And then, of course, there are our opals.
”
“
Oh, yes,
”
smiled Jessa,
“
the opals. Ever mine for any, Mr. South—or is
‘
mine
’
the wrong word?
”
“
Out here we prefer win,
’”
grinned Margaret
’
s father.
“
We always speak of, say, Jones or Smith
‘
winning
’
some opal from the basalt or shale.
”
‘
But he doesn
’
t, does he?
”
asked Jessa, wide-eyed.
“
No, he usually has to go down about forty feet. If he
’
s lucky he might strike it on different levels and in vertical joint cracks. Mostly the opals appear in thin veinlets and nodular masses. It
’
s mostly hard yakka, and very discouraging.
‘
Grey Billy,
’
which is a tough capping of quartzite breaks many hearts, and then, of course, there is potch.
”
“
What is potch?
”
“
Worthless opal,
”
shrugged Margaret
’
s father.
“
Look, Miss Barlow, here is Billatoo now.
”
Jessa smiled on the pleasant rambling country house, its garden, in spite of the rainfall, more overgrown than trim, its pink-washed walls flanked by plantations of hardy
shrubs flourishing at their will.
Mrs. South was on the wide verandah waiting for them. There was a smell of cooking in the air, homely and inviting.
It was two days before the men were to arrive. Margaret borrowed the car and drove Jessa to several of the opal fields. Jessa learned that opal is silica... that it takes many
millions of years to make.
“
And as many to find,
”
sighed a discouraged prospector who leaned against his windlass and filled his pipe as he talked to the girls.
“
I may as well noodle for it,
”
he sighed.
“
What
’
s noodling?
”
“
Just walking around, miss, and keeping your eyes skinned. Sometimes you can be luckier than the man who puts in a lot of hard work.
”
Jessa wondered why they kept on, these patient men, digging, examining, trying to beat Grey Billy, finding a vein only to discover it was potch. But when she saw some of the opals that had been mined she thought differently.
Their loveliness was something the diamond or ruby or emerald would never touch, for they were all colours in one. Fiery red, orange, yellow, blue and green, in iridescent ever
-
changing hues as the stone turned in the light, fascinated her.
When they went into Biggabilla to pick up the men she made her way first to the Shire Hall to see replicas of some of the champions that had been
“
won
”
as Mr. South put it... The Red Admiral, The Golden Princess, Rainbow Flash.
She was standing there intrigued when someone came and stood beside her.
“
Good afternoon, Miss Barlow, you look in a trance.
”
Jessa started. She had been gazing at a white opal. She believed she almost preferred these... they were so beautiful and delicate... and she had forgotten all about the plane and the cargo it would bring.
Professor Gink was looking where she was looking,
“
odd,
”
he remarked.
“
You never appeared the kind of girl to me to go overboard for a jewel.
”
“
You can scarcely say overboard at Biggabilla,
”
she laughed.
“
There
’
s not a river in sight and only a yearly rainfall of fourteen inches, I
’
m told. As for succumbing to opals—well, I
’
m afraid that
’
s just what I
’
ve done.
”
“
Yes,
”
he nodded,
“
and I don
’
t blame you. There
’
s something warm about them, isn
’
t there? Certainly I should say they are your gem.
”
“
Because they
’
re warm,
”
deduced Jessa ruefully, touching her bright red hair.
“
And why not?
”
he came back.
“
Isn
’
t warmth a very good thing?
”
“
Not here in summer,
”
she retorted,
“
if the temperature keeps on keeping pace to the season. We
’
re barely out of spring, remember, and it
’
s certainly very warm.
”
“
I suppose being a prem-man,
”
he grinned,
“
I have a soft spot for warmth. If you can tear yourself away from your jewels, Miss Barlow, Margaret has suggested we inspect the infant welfare hall I
’
m to open before we go out to Billaroo.
”
Jessa said rather flatly,
“
They are not my jewels, nor ever will be.
”
She had noticed his use of Margaret, not even Nurse Margaret, and his careful Miss Barlow to
her.
“
Nor anything like them,
”
she concluded with a ghost of a sigh.
“
I wouldn
’
t be so sure,
”
said Professor Gink.
The hall was small and colourful. The Bush Society who had financed and built it had done a good job. They walked around the buttercup-tinted room and admired the many cupboards painted alternately gentle grey and soft blue.
“
It is a restful room,
”
commended Meg.
They were out at Billaroo for afternoon tea. They sat a long time over the cups while Mr. and Mrs. South got to know their visitors.
“
How long can you men give us?
”
asked Margaret
’
s father.
The Professor said,
“
Two days only, unfortunately, one to see the opal fields, one to open the hall.
”
Barry said,
“
Three for me, all on the opal fields. I won
’
t have time to mine, but I will have time to noodle. I
’
ve named my opal in advance. I
’
m calling it Matthew
’
s Dream.
”
“
And why that?
”
laughed Margaret
’
s mother.
“
It
’
s
my
dream, really, but I can
’
t help
feeling old
Matthew Flinders
dreams it as well, for all that he
’
s only an engine, a cockpit, a structure and wings.
”
“
Matthew Flinders
is Barry
’
s plane,
”
explained Margaret to her parents.
“
He wants to return it to the island run much more elaborately equipped than it was before.
”
“
And is it returning?
”
asked Mr. South keenly.
Barry looked a little disconcerted.
“
It was only a hunch, sir,
”
he admitted a little embarrassed.
Mr. South cheered him immediately.
“
I know just how you feel, son. All old prospectors have
felt it. That queer, priceless, subconscious urge whispering at your shoulder that it
’
s coming, coming—is that it?
”
“
Why, yes, sir,
”
said Barry eagerly,
“
I
’
ve got exactly that sensation with
Matthew.
What
’
s more I
’
ve also got it as regards my opal. I
’
m going to win one, I
’
m sure.
”
And he did win one.
They spent the entire first day on an old field recommended as a
“
possible
”
by Mr. South.
Jessa found a quantity of wood opal which, apart from malting small ornaments, was quite valueless, and Margaret and the Professor found only potch. But Barry found his opal, quite large, quite lovely, though, according to him, unfortunately white.
“
But why unfortunately?
”
protested Jessa, gazing entranced at the glimpse of milky jewel in its rough casing with its pin-fire of colours.
“
Less valuable,
”
moaned Ba
.
They took it back to Billaroo for Mr. South
’
s opinion. He was something of an authority on opals. He and Ba and the Professor closeted themselves in the study. When they came out a long while after Barry had a radiant look.
“
Well, that
’
s done it,
”
he said happily.
“
Matthew Flinders
is all set for its refurbishing.
”
“
Was it valuable after all?
”
gasped Jessa.
“
To the right market, yes.
”
“
But where is the market?
”
“
Right here in this room, my child. The Professor, to be precise. He bought it.
”
“
Bought it
?
But
“
The Professor said quietly but distinctly,
“
I bought it to have it made into a ring.
”
He looked across at Meg.
“
So all I need now,
”
beamed Barry,
“
is for Lopi to erupt and to send those tourists hot-footing it back to Sydney. Not a big
‘
quake, just a little gentle nudging that will kill the travel trade for all time and put copra and conchi back where they belong.
”
They all laughed.
The next day was the opening ceremony of the infant welfare hall. The Billaroo folk travelled in to the centre in two cars. Jessa went with the Souths in their family model,
Margaret sat between Professor Gink and Barry in the jeep.
They arrived together, the jeep travellers dustier than the Souths and Jessa. Jessa watched Margaret dusting and brushing the Professor.
“
You can
’
t face a crowd of people looking like a tramp,
”
she protested.
“
A
crowd?
”