A LITTLE BUSH MAID

By Mary Grant Bruce

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

 I BILLABONG II PETS AND PLAYTHINGS III A MENAGERIE RACE IV JIM'S IDEA V ANGLER'S BEND VI A BUSH FIRE VII WHAT NORAH FOUND VIII ON A LOG IX FISHING X THE LAST DAY XI GOOD-BYE XII THE WINFIELD MURDER XIII THE CIRCUS XIV CAMPING OUT XV FOR FRIENDSHIP XVI FIGHTING DEATH XVII THE END OF THE STRUGGLE XVIII EVENING

CHAPTER I. BILLABONG

Norah's home was on a big station in the north of Victoria--so largethat you could almost, in her own phrase, "ride all day and never seeany one you didn't want to see"; which was a great advantage in Norah'seyes. Not that Billabong Station ever seemed to the little girl a placethat you needed to praise in any way. It occupied so very modest aposition as the loveliest part of the world!

The homestead was built on a gentle rise that sloped gradually away onevery side; in front to the wide plain, dotted with huge gum trees andgreat grey box groves, and at the back, after you had passed through thewell-kept vegetable garden and orchard, to a long lagoon, bordered withtrees and fringed with tall bulrushes and waving reeds. 

The house itself was old and quaint and rambling, part of the old wattleand dab walls yet remaining in some of the outhouses, as well as thegrey shingle roof. There was a more modern part, for the house had beenadded to from time to time by different owners, though no additions hadbeen made since Norah's father brought home his young wife, fifteenyears before this story opens. Then he had built a large new wing withwide and lofty rooms, and round all had put a very broad, tiledverandah. The creepers had had time to twine round the massive posts inthose fifteen years, and some even lay in great masses on the verandahroof; tecoma, pink and salmon-coloured; purple bougainvillea, and thesnowy mandevillea clusters. Hard-headed people said this was not goodfor the building--but Norah's mother had planted them, and because shehad loved them they were never touched. 

There was a huge front garden, not at all a proper kind of garden, but agreat stretch of smooth buffalo grass, dotted with all kinds of trees, amongst which flower beds cropped up in most unexpected and unlikelyplaces, just as if some giant had flung them out on the grass like ahandful of pebbles that scattered as they flew. They were always trimand tidy, and the gardener, Hogg, was terribly strict, and woe betidethe author of any small footmarks that he found on one of the freshlyraked surfaces. Nothing annoyed him more than the odd bulbs that used tocome up in the midst of his precious buffalo grass; impertinent crocusesand daffodils and hyacinths, that certainly had no right there. "Blestif I know how they ever gets there!" Hogg would say, scratching hishead. Whereat Norah was wont to retire behind a pyramid tree forpurposes of mirth. 

Hogg's sworn foe was Lee Wing, the Chinese gardener, who reigned supremein the orchard and the kingdom of vegetables--not quite the same thingas the vegetable kingdom, by the way! Lee Wing was very fat, his broad, yellow face generally wearing a cheerful grin--unless he happened tocatch sight of Hogg. His long pigtail was always concealed under hisflapping straw hat. Once Jim, who was Norah's big brother, had found himasleep in his hut with the pigtail drooping over the edge of the bunk. Jim thought the opportunity too good to lose and, with such deftnessthat the Celestial never stirred, he tied the end of the pigtail to theback of a chair--with rather startling results when Lee Wing awoke witha sudden sense of being late, and made a spring from the bunk. The chairof course followed him, and the loud yell of fear and pain raised by thevictim brought half the homestead to the scene of the catastrophe. Jimwas the only one who did not wait for developments. He found business atthe lagoon. 

The queerest part of it was that Lee Wing firmly believed Hogg to be theauthor of his woe. Nothing moved him from this view, not even when Jim, finding how matters stood, owned up like a man. "You allee same goo'boy, " said the pigtailed one, proffering him a succulent raw turnip. "Meknow. You tellee fine large crammee. Hogg, he tellee crammee, too. Sodly up!" And Jim, finding expostulation useless, "dried up" accordinglyand ate the turnip, which was better than the leek. 

To the right of the homestead at Billabong a clump of box treessheltered the stables that were the unspoken pride of Mr. Linton'sheart. 

Before his time the stables had been a conglomerate mass, bark-roofed, slab-sided, falling to decay; added to as each successive owner hadthought fit, with a final mixture of old and new that was neitherconvenient nor beautiful. Mr. Linton had apologised to his horses duringhis first week of occupancy and, in the second, turning them out tograss with less apology, had pulled down the rickety old sheds, replacing them with a compact and handsome building of red brick, withroom for half a dozen buggies, men's quarters, harness and feed rooms, many loose boxes and a loft where a ball could have been held--andwhere, indeed, many a one was held, when all the young farmers andstockmen and shearers from far and near brought each his lass andtripped it from early night to early dawn, to the strains of old AndyFerguson's fiddle and young Dave Boone's concertina. Norah had beenallowed to look on at one or two of these gatherings. She thought themthe height of human bliss, and was only sorry that sheer inability todance prevented her from "taking the floor" with Mick Shanahan, thehorse breaker, who had paid her the compliment of asking her first. Itwas a great compliment, too, Norah felt, seeing what a man of agilityand splendid accomplishments was Mick--and that she was only nine at thetime. 

There was one loose box which was Norah's very own property, and withouther permission no horse was ever put in it except its rightfuloccupant--Bobs, whose name was proudly displayed over the door in Jim'sbest carving. 

Bobs had always belonged to Norah, He had been given to her as a foal, when Norah used to ride a round little black sheltie, as easy to falloff as to mount. He was a beauty even then, Norah thought; and herfather had looked approvingly at the long-legged baby, with his fine, well-bred head. "You will have something worth riding when that fellowis fit to break in, my girlie, " he had said, and his prophecy had beenamply fulfilled. Mick Shanahan said he'd never put a leg over a finerpony. Norah knew there never had been a finer anywhere. He was a bigpony, very dark bay in colour, and "as handsome as paint, " and with thekindest disposition; full of life and "go, " but without the smallestparticle of vice. It was an even question which loved the other best, Bobs or Norah. No one ever rode him except his little mistress. The pairwere hard to beat--so the men said. 

To Norah the stables were the heart of Billabong. The house was all verywell--of course she loved it; and she loved her own little room, withits red carpet and dainty white furniture, and the two long windows thatlooked out over the green plain. That was all right; so were the gardenand the big orchard, especially in summer time! The only part that wasnot "all right" was the drawing-room--an apartment of gloomy, seldom-used splendour that Norah hated with her whole heart. 

But the stables were an abiding refuge. She was never dull there. Apartfrom the never-failing welcome in Bobs' loose box, there was the dim, fragrant loft, where the sunbeams only managed to send dusty rays oflight across the gloom. Here Norah used to lie on the sweet hay andthink tremendous thoughts; here also she laid deep plans for catchingrats--and caught scores in traps of her own devising. Norah hated rats, but nothing could induce her to wage war against the mice. "Poor littlechaps!" she said; "they're so little--and--and soft!" And she was quitesaddened if by chance she found a stray mouse in any of hershrewdly-designed traps for the benefit of the larger game whichinfested the stables and had even the hardihood to annoy Bobs!

Norah had never known her mother. She was only a tiny baby when that gaylittle mother died--a sudden, terrible blow, that changed her father ina night from a young man to an old one. It was nearly twelve years ago, now, but no one ever dared to speak to David Linton of his wife. Sometimes Norah used to ask Jim about mother--for Jim was fifteen, andcould remember just a little; but his memories were so vague and mistythat his information was unsatisfactory. And, after all, Norah did nottrouble much. She had always been so happy that she could not imaginethat to have had a mother would have made any particular difference toher happiness. You see, she did not know. 

She had grown just as the bush wild flowers grow--hardy, unchecked, almost untended; for, though old nurse had always been there, hernurseling had gone her own way from the time she could toddle. She waseverybody's pet and plaything; the only being who had power to make herstern, silent father smile--almost the only one who ever saw the softerside of his character. He was fond and proud of Jim--glad that the boywas growing up straight and strong and manly, able to make his way inthe world. But Norah was his heart's desire. 

Of course she was spoilt--if spoiling consists in rarely checking animpulse. All her life Norah had done pretty well whatever shewanted--which meant that she had lived out of doors, followed in Jim'sfootsteps wherever practicable (and in a good many ways most peoplewould have thought distinctly impracticable), and spent about two-thirdsof her waking time on horseback. But the spoiling was not of a veryharmful kind. Her chosen pursuits brought her under the unspokendiscipline of the work of the station, wherein ordinary instinct taughther to do as others did, and conform to their ways. She had all thedread of being thought "silly" that marks the girl who imitates boyishways. Jim's rare growl, "Have a little sense!" went farther home than awhole volume of admonitions of a more ordinarily genuine feminine type. 

She had no little girl friends, for none was nearer than the nearesttownship--Cunjee, seventeen miles away. Moreover, little girls boredNorah frightfully. They seemed a species quite distinct from herself. They prattled of dolls; they loved to skip, to dress up and "playladies"; and when Norah spoke of the superior joys of cutting out cattleor coursing hares over the Long Plain, they stared at her with blanklack of understanding. With boys she got on much better. Jim and shewere tremendous chums, and she had moped sadly when he went to Melbourneto school. Holidays then became the shining events of the year, and theboys whom Jim brought home with him, at first prone to look down on thesmall girl with lofty condescension, generally ended by voting her "noend of a jolly kid, " and according her the respect due to a person whocould teach them more of bush life than they had dreamed of. 

But Norah's principal mate was her father. Day after day they weretogether, riding over the run, working the cattle, walking through thethick scrub of the backwater, driving young, half-broken horses in thehigh dog-cart to Cunjee--they were rarely apart. David Linton seldommade a plan that did not naturally include Norah. She was a wise littlecompanion, too; ready enough to chatter like a magpie if her father werein the mood, but quick to note if he were not, and then quite content tobe silently beside him, perhaps for hours. They understood each otherperfectly. Norah never could make out the people who pitied her forhaving no friends of her own age. How could she possibly be botheredwith children, she reflected, when she had Daddy?

As for Norah's education, that was of the kind best defined as a minusquantity. 

"I won't have her bothered with books too early, " Mr. Linton had saidwhen nurse hinted, on Norah's eight birthday, that it was time she beganthe rudiments of learning. "Time enough yet--we don't want to make abookworm of her!"

Whereat nurse smiled demurely, knowing that that was the last thing tobe afraid of in connexion with her child. But she worried in herresponsible old soul all the same; and when a wet day or the occasionalabsence of Mr. Linton left Norah without occupation, she induced her tobegin a few elementary lessons. The child was quick enough, and soonlearned to read fairly well and to write laboriously; but there nurse'steaching from books ended. 

Of other and practical teaching, however, she had a greater store. Mr. Linton had a strong leaning towards the old-fashioned virtues, and itwas at a word from him that Norah had gone to the kitchen and asked Mrs. Brown to teach her to cook. Mrs. Brown--fat, good-natured andadoring--was all acquiescence, and by the time Norah was eleven she knewmore of cooking and general housekeeping than many girls grown up andfancying themselves ready to undertake houses of their own. Moreover, she could sew rather well, though she frankly detested theaccomplishment. The one form of work she cared for was knitting, and itwas her boast that her father wore only the socks she manufactured forhim. 

Norah's one gentle passion was music. Never taught, she inherited fromher mother a natural instinct and an absolutely true ear, and before shewas seven she could strum on the old piano in a way very satisfying toherself and awe-inspiring to the admiring nurse. Her talent increasedyearly, and at ten she could play anything she heard--from ear, for shehad never been taught a note of music. It was, indeed, her growingcapabilities in this respect that forced upon her father the need forproper tuition for the child. However, a stopgap was found in the personof the book-keeper, a young Englishman, who knew more of music thanaccounts. He readily undertook Norah's instruction, and the lessons boremoderately good effect--the moderation being due to a not unnaturaldisinclination on the pupil's part to walk where she had been accustomedto run, and to a fixed loathing to practice. As the latter necessary, ifuninteresting, pursuit was left entirely to her own discretion--for noone ever dreamed of ordering Norah to the piano--it is small wonder ifit suffered beside the superior attractions of riding Bobs, rattrapping, "shinning up" trees, fishing in the lagoon and generallydisporting herself as a maiden may whom conventional restrictions havenever trammelled. 

It follows that the music lessons, twice a week, were times of woe forMr. Groom, the teacher. He was an earnest young man, with a sinceredesire for his pupil's improvement, and it was certainly dishearteningto find on Friday that the words of Tuesday had apparently gone in atone ear and out at the other simultaneously. Sometimes he wouldremonstrate. 

"You haven't got on with that piece a bit!"

"What's the good?" the pupil would remark, twisting round on the musicstool; "I can play nearly all of it from ear!"

"That's not the same"--severely--"that's only frivolling. I'm not hereto teach you to strum. "

"No" Norah would agree abstractedly. "Mr. Groom, you know that poleybullock down in the far end paddock--"

"No, I don't, " severely. "This is a music lesson, Norah; you're notafter cattle now!"

"Wish I were!" sighed the pupil. "Well, will you come out with the dogsthis afternoon?"

"Can't; I'm wanted in the office. Now, Norah--"

"But if I asked father to spare you?"

"Oh, I'd like to right enough. " Mr. Groom was young, and the temptress, if younger, was skilled in wiles. 

"But your father--"

"Oh, I can manage Dad. I'll go and see him now. " She would be at thedoor before her teacher perceived that his opportunity was vanishing. 

"Norah, come back! If I'm to go out, you must play this first--and getit right. "

Mr. Groom could be firm on occasions. "Come along, you little shirker!"and Norah would unwillingly return to the music stool, and worrylaboriously though a page of the hated Czerny. 

CHAPTER II. PETS AND PLAYTHINGS

After her father, Norah's chief companions were her pets. 

These were a numerous and varied band, and required no small amount ofattention. Bobs, of course, came first--no other animal could possiblyapproach him in favour. But after Bobs came a long procession, beginningwith Tait, the collie, and ending with the last brood of fluffyOrpington chicks, or perhaps the newest thing in disabled birds, pickedup, fluttering and helpless, in the yard or orchard. There was room inNorah's heart for them all. 

Tait was a beauty--a rough-haired collie, with a splendid head, and big, faithful brown eyes, that spoke more eloquently than many persons'tongues. He was, like most of the breed, ready to be friends with anyone; but his little mistress was dearest of all, and he worshipped herwith abject devotion. Norah never went anywhere without him; Tait saw tothat. He seemed always on the watch for her coming, and she was nevermore than a few yards from the house before the big dog was silentlybrushing the grass by her side. His greatest joy was to follow her onlong rides into the bush, putting up an occasional hare and scurryingafter it in the futile way of collies, barking at the swallows overhead, and keeping pace with Bobs' long, easy canter. 

Puck used to come on these excursions too. He was the only being forwhom it was suspected that Tait felt a mild dislike--an impudent Irishterrier, full of fun and mischief, yet with a somewhat unfriendly andsuspicious temperament that made him, perhaps, a better guardian forNorah than the benevolently disposed Tait. Puck had a nasty, inquiringmind--an unpleasant way of sniffing round the legs of tramps thatgenerally induced those gentry to find the top rail of a fence a morecalm and more desirable spot than the level of the ground. Indianhawkers feared him and hated him in equal measure. He could bite, andoccasionally did bite, his victims being always selected with judgmentand discretion, generally vagrants emboldened to insolence by seeing nomen about the kitchen when all hands were out mustering or busy on therun. When Puck bit, it was with no uncertain tooth. He was suspected ofa desire to taste the blood of every one who went near Norah, though hiscannibalistic propensities were curbed by stern discipline. 

Only once had he had anything like a free hand--or a free tooth. 

Norah was out riding, a good way from the homestead, when a particularlyunpleasant-looking fellow accosted her, and asked for money. Norahstared. 

"I haven't got any, " she said. "Anyhow, father doesn't let us give awaymoney to travellers--only tucker. "

"Oh, doesn't he?" the fellow said unpleasantly. "Well, I want money, notgrub. " He laid a compelling hand on Bobs' bridle as Norah tried to passhim. "Come, " he said--"that bracelet'll do!"

It was a pretty little gold watch set in a leather bangle--father'sbirthday present, only a few weeks old. Norah simply laughed--shescarcely comprehended so amazing a thing as that this man should reallyintend to rob her. 

"Get out of my way, " she said--"you can't have that!"

"Can't I!" He caught her wrist. "Give it quietly now, or I'll--"

The sentence was not completed. A yellow streak hurled itself though theair, as Puck, who had been investigating a tussock for lizards, awoke tothe situation. Something like a vice gripped the swagman by the leg, andhe dropped Norah's wrist and bridle and roared like any bull. The"something" hung on fiercely, silently, and the victim hopped and ravedand begged for mercy. 

Norah had ridden a little way on. She called softly to Puck. 

"Here, boy!"

Puck did not relinquish his grip. He looked pleadingly at his littlemistress across the swagman's trouser-leg. Norah struck her saddlesharply with her whip. 

"Here, sir!--drop it!"

Puck dropped it reluctantly, and came across to Bobs, his head hanging. The swagman sat down on the ground and nursed his leg. 

"That served you right, " Norah said, with judicial severity. "You hadn'tany business to grab my watch. Now, if you'll go up to the house they'llgive you some tucker and a rag for your leg!"

She rode off, whistling to Puck. The swagman gaped and muttered variousremarks. He did not call at the house. 

Norah was supposed to manage the fowls, but her management was almostentirely ornamental, and it is to be feared that the poultry yard wouldhave fared but poorly had it depended upon her alone. All the fowls werehers. She said so, and no one contradicted her. Still, whenever one waswanted for the table, it was ruthlessly slain. And it was black Billywho fed them night and morning, and Mrs. Brown who gathered the eggs, and saw that the houses were safely shut against the foxes everyevening. Norah's chief part in the management lay in looking after thesetting hens. At first she firmly checked the broody instincts byshutting them callously under boxes despite pecks and loud protests. Later, when their mood refused to change, she loved to prepare them softnests in boxes, and to imprison them there until they took kindly totheir seclusion. Then it was hard work to wait three weeks until thefirst fluffy heads peeped out from the angry mother's wing, after whichNorah was a blissfully adoring caretaker until the downy balls began toget ragged, as the first wing and tail feathers showed. Then the chicksbecame uninteresting, and were handed over to Black Billy. 

Besides her own pets there were Jim's. 

"Mind, they're in your care, " Jim had said sternly, on the eveningbefore his departure for school. They were making a tour of theplace--Jim outwardly very cheerful and unconcerned; Norah plunged inwoe. She did not attempt to conceal it. She had taken Jim's arm, and itwas sufficient proof of his state of mind that he did not shake it off. Indeed, the indications were that he was glad of the loving little handtucked into the bend of his arm. 

"Yes, Jim; I'll look after them. "

"I don't want you to bother feeding them yourself, " Jim saidmagnanimously; "that 'ud be rather too much of a contract for a kid, wouldn't it? Only keep an eye on 'em, and round up Billy if he doesn'tdo his work. He's a terror if he shirks, and unless you watch him like acat he'll never change the water in the tins every morning. Lots oftimes I've had to do it myself!"

"I'd do it myself sooner'n let them go without, Jim, dear, " said thesmall voice, with a suspicion of a choke. 

"Don't you do it, " said Jim; "slang Billy. What's he here for, I'd liketo know! I only want you to go round 'em every day, and see that they'reall right. "

So daily Norah used to make her pilgrimage round Jim's pets. There werethe guinea pigs--a rapidly increasing band, in an enclosure speciallybuilt for them by Jim--a light frame, netted carefully everywhere, andso constructed that it could be moved from place to place, giving them afresh grass run continually. Then there were two young wallabies and alittle brush kangaroo, which lived in a little paddock all their own, and were as tame as kittens. Norah loved this trio especially, andalways had a game with them on her daily visit. There was a shygentleman which Norah called a turloise, because she never couldremember if he were a turtle or a tortoise. He lived in a smallenclosure, with a tiny water hole, and his disposition was extremelyretiring. In private Norah did not feel drawn to this member of hercharge, but she paid him double attention, from an inward feeling ofguilt, and because Jim set a high value upon him. 

"He's such a wise old chap, " Jim would say; "nobody knows what he'sthinking of!"

In her heart of hearts Norah did not believe that mattered very much. 

But when the stables had been visited and Bobs and Sirdar (Jim'sneglected pony) interviewed; when Tait and Puck had had their breakfastbones; when wallabies and kangaroo had been inspected (with a criticaleye to their water tins), and the turtle had impassively received apraiseworthy attempt to draw him out; when the chicks had all been fed, and the guinea pigs (unlike the leopard) had changed their spot for theday--there still remained the birds. 

The birds were a colony in themselves. There was a big aviary, largeenough for little trees and big shrubs to grow in, where a happy familylived whose members included several kinds of honey-eaters, Queenslandfinches, blackbirds and a dozen other tiny shy things which flittedquickly from bush to bush all day. They knew Norah and, when she enteredtheir home, would flutter down and perch on her head and shoulders, andlook inquisitively for the flowers she always brought them. SometimesNorah would wear some artificial flowers, by way of a joke. It was funnyto see the little honey-eaters thrusting in their long beaks again andagain in search of the sweet drops they had learned to expect inflowers, and funnier still to watch the air of disgust with which theywould give up the attempt. 

There were doves everywhere--not in cages, for they never tried toescape. Their soft "coo" murmured drowsily all around. There werepigeons, too, in a most elaborate pigeon cote--another effort of Jim'scarpentering skill. These were as tame as the smaller birds, and onNorah's appearance would swoop down upon her in a cloud. They had doneso once when she was mounted on Bobs, to the pony's very great alarm anddisgust. He took to his heels promptly. "I don't think he stopped fortwo miles!" Norah said. Since then, however, Bobs had grown used to thepigeons fluttering and circling round him. It was a pretty sight towatch them all together, child and pony half hidden beneath their loadof birds. 

The canaries had a cage to themselves--a very smart one, with everydevice for making canary life endurable in captivity. Certainly Norah'sbirds seemed happy enough, and the sweet songs of the canaries weredelightful. I think they were Norah's favourites amongst her featheredflock. 

Finally there were two talkative members--Fudge the parrot, and oldCaesar, a very fine white cockatoo. Fudge had been caught young, and hiseducation had been of a liberal order. An apt pupil, he had picked upvarious items of knowledge, and had blended them into a whole that wasscarcely harmonious. Bits of slang learned from Jim and the stockmenwere mingled with fragments of hymns warbled by Mrs. Brown and sharpcurt orders delivered to dogs. A French swag-man, who had hurt his footand been obliged to camp for a few days at the homestead, supplied Fudgewith several Parisian remarks that were very effective. Every member ofthe household had tried to teach him to whistle some special tune. Unfortunately, the lessons had been delivered at the same time, and theresult was the most amazing jumble of melody, which Fudge delivered withan air of deepest satisfaction. As Jim said, "You never know if he'swhistling 'God Save the King, ' 'Pop Goes the Weasel, ' or 'The Wearin' o'the Green, ' but it doesn't make any difference to Fudge's enjoyment!"

Caesar was a giant among cockatoos, and had a full sense of his ownimportance. 

He had been shot when very young, some stray pellets having found theirway into his wing. Norah had found him fluttering helplessly along theground, and had picked him up, sustaining a severe peck in doing so. Itwas, however, the first and last peck he ever gave Norah. From thatmoment he seemed to recognize her as a friend, and to adopt her as anintimate--marks of esteem he accorded to very few others. Norah hadhanded him to Jim on arriving at the house, a change which the birdresented by a savage attack on Jim's thumb. Jim was no hero--at the ageof eleven, he dropped the cockatoo like a hot coal. "Great Caesar!" heexclaimed, sucking his thumb, and Caesar he was christened in thatmoment. 

After his recovery, which was a long and tedious process, Caesar showedno inclination to leave the homestead. He used to strut about the backyard, and frequent the kitchen door, very much after the fashion of ahouse-dog. He was, indeed, as valuable as a watch-dog, for theappearance of any stranger was the signal for a volley of shrieks andchatter, sufficient to alarm any household. However, Caesar's liberty hadto be restricted, for he became somewhat of a menace to all he did notchoose to care for, and his attacks on the ankles were no joking matter. 

To the dogs he was a constant terror. He hated all alike, and would "gofor" big Tait as readily as for cheerful little Puck, and not a dog onthe place would face him. So at last a stand and a chain were bought forCaesar, and on his perch he lived in solitary splendour, while hisenemies took good care to keep beyond his reach. Norah he always loved, and those whom he had managed to bite--their number was large--used toexperience thrills on seeing the little girl hold him close to her facewhile he rubbed his beak up and down her cheek. He tolerated blackBilly, who fed him, and was respectful to Mr. Linton; but he worshippedMrs. Brown, the cook, and her appearance at the kitchen door, which hecould see from his stand, caused an instant outbreak of cheers andchatter, varied by touching appeals to "scratch Cocky. " His chief foewas Mrs. Brown's big yellow cat, who not only dared to share the adoredone's affections, but was openly aggressive at times, and loved to stealthe cockatoo's food. 

Caesar, on his perch, apparently wrapped in dreamless slumber, would inreality be watching the stealthy movements of Tim, the cat, who wouldcome scouting through the grass towards the tin of food. Just out ofreach, Tim would lie down and feign sleep as deep as Caesar's, thoughevery muscle in his body was tense with readiness for the sudden spring. So they would remain, perhaps many minutes. Tim's patience never gaveout. Sometimes Caesar's would, and he would open his eyes and flap roundon his perch, shouting much bad bird language at the retreating Tim. Butmore often both remained motionless until the cat sprang suddenly at thefood tin. More often than not he was too quick for Caesar, and would dragthe tin beyond reach of the chain before the bird could defend it, inwhich case the wrath of the defeated was awful to behold. But sometimesCaesar managed to anticipate the leap, and Tim did not readily forgetthose distressful moments when the cockatoo had him by the fur with beakand claw. He would escape, showing several patches where his coat hadbeen torn, and remained in a state of dejection for two or three days, during which battles were discontinued. It took Caesar almost as long torecover from the wild state of triumph into which his rare victoriesthrew him. 

CHAPTER III. A MENAGERIE RACE

The first time that Jim returned from school was for the Easterholidays. 

He brought a couple of mates with him--boys from New South Wales andQueensland, Harry Trevor and Walter Meadows. Harry was a little olderthan Jim--a short, thick-set lad, very fair and solemn, withexpressionless grey eyes, looking out beneath a shock of flaxen hair. Those who knew him not said that he was stupid. Those who knew him saidthat you couldn't tell old Harry much that he didn't know. Those whoknew him very well said that you could depend on Trevor to his lastgasp. Jim loved him--and there were few people Jim loved. 

Walter--or Wally--Meadows was a different type; long and thin forfourteen, burnt to almost Kaffir darkness; a wag of a boy, with merrybrown eyes, and a temperament unable to be depressed for more than fiveminutes at a time. He was always in scrapes at school, but a greatfavourite with masters and boys notwithstanding; and he straightway laidhis boyish heart down at Norah's feet, and was her slave from the firstday they met. 

Norah liked them both. She had been desperately afraid that they wouldtry to take Jim away from her, and was much relieved to find that theywelcomed her cheerfully into their plans. They were good riders, and thefour had splendid gallops over the plains after hares. Also they admiredBobs fervently, and that was always a passport to Norah's heart. 

It was on the third day of their visit, and they were making the morninground of the pets, when a brilliant idea came to Wally. 

"Let's have a menagerie race!" he cried suddenly. 

"What's that?" Norah asked blankly. 

"Why, you each drive an animal, " explained Wally, the words tumblingover one another in his haste. "Say you drive the kangaroo, 'n me thewallabies, 'n Jim the Orpington rooster, 'n we'll give old Harry thetortoise--turloise, I beg pardon!"

"Thanks, " said Harry dryly. "The tortoise scored once, you know, youngWally!"

"Well, old man, you take him, " Wally said kindly. "Wouldn't stand inyour way for a moment. We can use harness, can't we?"

"Don't know, " Jim said. "I never studied the rules of menagerie racing. Use bridles, anyhow. It's a good idea, I think. Let's see how manystarters we can muster. "

They cruised round. Dogs were barred as being too intelligent--horseswere, of course, out of the question. Finally they fixed on the possiblecandidates. They were the kangaroo, the wallabies, a big black Orpington"rooster, " Fudge the parrot, Caesar the cockatoo, Mrs. Brown's big yellowcat, Tim, and the "turloise. "

"Eight, " said Harry laconically. The starters were all mustered in oneenclosure, and were on the worst of terms. "We'll need more jockeys--ifyou call 'em jockeys. "

"Well, there's black Billy, " Jim said; "he's available, and he'll drivewhichever he's told, and that's a comfort. That's five. And we'll rouseout old Lee Wing, and Hogg, that's a ripping idea, 'cause they hate eachother so. Seven. Who's eight? Oh, I know! We'll get Mrs. Brown. "

Mrs. Brown was accordingly bearded in her den and, protesting vigorouslythat she had no mind for racing, haled forth into the open. She was ahuge woman, as good-natured as she was fat, which said a good deal. Inher print dress, with enormous white apron and flapping sun bonnet, shelooked as unlikely a "jockey" as could be imagined. 

Lee Wing, discovered in the onion bed, was presently brought to thescratch, despite his protests. He said he "couldn't lun, " but was toldthat in all probability no running would be required of him. He alsosaid "no can dlive" many times, and further remarked, "Allee same gleatbosh. " When he saw his arch enemy Hogg among the competitors hisresentment was keen, and Wally was told off to restrain him from flight. Wally's own idea was to tie him up by the pigtail, but this Jim wasprudent enough to forbid. 

Hogg was, as Jim put it, rooting amongst the roses, and grunted freelyon his way to the post. He could never refuse Norah anything, but thisproceeding was much beneath his dignity, and the sight of Lee Wing didnot tend to improve his view of the matter. He stood aloof, with a cold, proud smile, like a hero of melodrama. 

Black Billy was, of course, in the stables, and came with alacrity. Hehad not much English and that little was broken, but he worshipped theLinton children--Jim especially, and would obey him with theunquestioning obedience of a dog. 

"All here?" asked Jim, looking round. "Five, six, eight--that's allserene. Now who's going to drive who?"

Opinions on that point were mixed. Every one wanted the kangaroo, and atlast a general vote gave him to Norah. Wally chose one Wallaby. He saidit was only natural, and made a further remark about the feelings of theothers when "Wally and his wallaby should wallow by them" that washappily quenched by Harry, who adopted the simple plan of sitting on theorator. Harry secured the second wallaby, and black Billy was given theOrpington rooster as his steed. Mrs. Brown from the first applied forthe tortoise. She said it meant less exertion, and she preferred to beslow and sure, without any risk of over-work. Hogg chose the yellow cat, Tim, and Lee Wing was given Caesar, the cockatoo. 

"Leaving old Fudge for me, " Jim said ruefully. "What sort of a chance doyou think I've got? Never mind, I'm used to being suppressed. "

"Good for you, " observed Harry. "Now, how about harness?"

"Well, we'll leave that to individual taste, " Jim said. "Here's a ballof string, and there are plenty of light straps. Mrs. Brown--you're theleading lady. How shall I harness your prancing steed for you?"

"You will have your joke, Master Jim, " retorted Mrs. Brown, bridling andbeaming. "Now, I don't think I'll harness my poor beastie at all. Giveme a couple of sticks to keep his head the right way and to poke himgently, and we'll beat you all yet!"

Norah and the two boys fixed up fearful and wonderful harness for theirnominations--collars of straps, and long string headpieces and reins. The animals objected strongly to being harnessed, and the process wasmost entertaining. Mrs. Brown was particularly appreciative, and atlength in a paroxysm of mirth narrowly escaped sitting down on thetortoise. 

Black Billy's harness was not extensive. He tied a string round theblack Orpington's leg, and retired to the stable for a few minutes, returning with a bulging pocket, the contents of which he did notcommunicate. Hogg did not attempt to bit and bridle the yellow cat, which was much annoyed at the whole proceeding. Instead he fixed up acollar and traces of string, and chose a long cane, more, he said, forpurposes of defence than for anything else. Lee Wing and Jim harnessedtheir steeds in the same way--with a long string tied to each leg. 

"All ready?" Jim queried. "Toe the line!"

The course was across a small paddock near the house--a distance ofabout thirty yards--and the competitors were ranged up with no littledifficulty. Luckily, the line was a wide one, admitting of considerablespace between each starter, or the send-off might have been inextricablyconfused. However, they were all arranged at last, and Jim, in astentorian voice, gave the word to "Go. "

As the signal was given, the drivers urged on their steeds according totheir judgment, and with magnificent results. 

First to get off the line were the wallabies and the kangaroo. Theyfled, each his several way, and after them went their drivers, in greathaste. The kangaroo had all the best of the start. So remarkable was hisbound that he twitched his reins quite out of Norah's hands, and madefor the fence of the paddock. It was an open one, which let him througheasily. The wallabies, seeing his shining success, followed his course, and midway managed to entangle their reins, at which Wally and Harrywere wildly hauling. Confusion became disorder, and the wallabies atlength reduced themselves to a tangle, out of which they had to beassisted by means of Harry's pocket knife. 

Jim had no luck. The parrot went off well, but very soon seemed toregret his rashness and, despite all Jim's endeavours, returned withsolemnity to the start, where he paused and talked fluently in the mixedlanguage that was all his own. In desperation Jim tried to pull himalong, but Fudge simply walked round and round him, until he hadexhausted his driver's patience, and was "turned out. "

The most spirited of the competitors were decidedly the cockatoo andTim. They were panting for each other's blood from the start, and beforethey had been urged over a quarter of the way they found an opportunityof warfare, and seized it simultaneously. Then the air grew murky withsound--cockatoo shrieks, mingled with cat calls and fluent Chinese, cutting across Hogg's good, broad Scots. Naturally, the strings of theharness became fatally twisted immediately, and soon the combatants werebound together with a firmness which not all the efforts of theirdrivers could undo. A sudden movement of the pair made Lee Wing springback hastily, whereupon he tripped and stumbled violently against Hogg. 

Hogg's temper was at vanishing point, and this was the last straw. 

"Ye pig-tailed image!" he exclaimed furiously. Drawing back, he aimed ablow at Lee Wing, which would have effectively put that gentle Mongolianout of the race had he not dodged quickly. He shouted something in hisown language, which was evidently of no complimentary nature, and hurledhimself like a yellow tornado upon the angry Scotsman. They struck outat each other with all possible ill-will, but their science was muchimpeded by the fact that the cat and cockatoo were fighting fiercelyamongst their legs. Finally Lee Wing tripped over Tim, and sat downabruptly, receiving as he did so an impassioned peck from Caesar whichelicited from him a loud yell of anguish. Hogg, attempting to follow uphis advantage, was checked suddenly by Jim, who left his parrot to itsown devices, and arrived on the scene at full gallop. 

"You are a blessed pair of duffers!" said Jim wrathfully. "Look here, iffather catches you fighting there'll be the most awful row--and I'll bein it too, what's worse. Clear out, for goodness' sake, before he comesalong, and don't get in each others' road again!" and each nursingbitterness in his heart, the rival gardeners returned to theirrespective beds of roses and onions. 

Left to their own devices, the yellow cat and the cockatoo departedalso, in a turmoil of wrath, with fur and feathers flying in equalproportions. Eventually Tim found discretion the better part of valourand scurried away to the safe shelter of the kitchen, pursued by Caesarwith loud shrieks of defiance and victory--sounds of joyful triumphwhich lasted long after he had regained his perch and been securelyfastened by the leg with his hated chain. 

Black Billy, meanwhile, had paid strict attention to business. Thevagaries of wallabies and kangaroo, of cat and parrot and cockatoo, hadno attraction for the dusky leader of the big black Orpington rooster. 

The Orpington--Jonah, Norah called him--was not inclined to race. He hadtugged furiously at his leg rope, with much outcry and indignation, until Billy, finding himself alone, owing to the eccentric behaviour ofthe other starters, had resorted to different tactics by no means devoidof native cunning. Slackening the line, he suddenly produced from hispocket a few grains of wheat, and spread them temptingly before Jonah. 

Now Jonah was a tame bird. He was accustomed to being handled, and hadonly been indignant at the disgrace of bonds. This new departure wassomething he understood; so he gobbled up the wheat with alacrity andlooked up inquiringly for more. 

"Right oh!" said Bffly, retiring a few steps down the track and bringingout another grain. Jonah sprang after it, and then was dazzled with theview of two lying yet a few yards farther off. So, feeding and coaxing, black Billy worked his unsuspecting steed across the little paddock. 

No one was near when he reached the winning post, to which he promptlytied Jonah, and, his purpose being accomplished, and no need of furtherbribery being necessary, sat down beside him and meditatively began tochew the remainder of his wheat. Jonah looked indignant, and poked roundafter more grains, an attention which Billy met with jeers and continuedheartless mastication, until the Orpington gave up the quest in disgust, and retired to the limit of his tether. Billy sat quietly, withsteadfast glittering eyes twinkling in his dusky face. 

"Hallo!" It was Jim's voice. "Where are all the rest? D'you mean to sayyou're the only one to get here?"

Billy grinned silently. 

Sounds of mirth floated over the grass, and Norah, Harry and Wally racedup. 

"Where are your mokes?" queried Jim. 

 "The good knights are dust, Their mokes are rust, "

misquoted Wally cheerfully. 

"We don't know, bless you. Cleared out, harness and all. We'll have awallaby and kangaroo hunt after this. Who's won?"

"Billy, " said Jim, indicating that sable hero. "In a common walk. Fedhim over. All right, now, Billy, you catch-um kangaroo, wallaby--d'youhear?"

Billy showed a set of amazingly white teeth in a broad grin, anddeparted swiftly and silently. 

"Where's Lee Wing?"

"Had to tear him off Hogg!" Jim grinned. "You never saw such a shindy. They've retired in bad order. "

"Where's Fudge?"

"Left at the post!"

"Where's Mrs. Brown--and the tortoise?"

"Great Scott!" Jim looked round blankly. "That never occurred to me. Where is she, I wonder?"

The course was empty. 

"Tortoise got away with her!" laughed Wally. 

"H'm, " said Jim. "We'll track her to her lair. "

In her lair--the kitchen--Mrs. Brown was discovered, modestly hidingbehind the door. The tortoise was on the table, apparently cheerful. 

"Poor dear pet!" said Mrs. Brown. "He wouldn't run. I don't think he wasawake to the situation, Master Jim, dear, so I just carried him over--Ididn't think it mattered which way I ran--and my scones were in theoven! They're just out--perhaps you'd all try them?"--thisinsinuatingly. "I don't think this tortoise comes of a racingfamily!"--and the great menagerie race concluded happily in the kitchenin what Wally called "a hot buttered orgy. "

CHAPTER IV. JIM'S IDEA

Two hammocks, side by side, under a huge pine tree, swung lazily to andfro in the evening breeze. In them Norah and Harry rocked happily, toocomfortable, as Norah said, to talk. They had all been out riding mostof the day, and were happily tired. Tea had been discussed fully, andeverything was exceedingly peaceful. 

Footsteps at racing speed sounded far off on the gravel of the frontpath--a wide sweep that ran round the broad lawn. There was a scatter ofstones, and then a thud-thud over the grass to the pine trees--soundsthat signalised the arrival of Jim and Wally, in much haste. Jim's hurrywas so excessive that he could not pull himself up in time to avoidHarry. He bumped violently into the hammock, with the natural resultthat Harry swung sharply against Norah, and for a moment things wererather mixed. 

"You duffer!" growled Harry, steadying his rocking bed. "Hurt you?"--this to Norah. 

"No, thanks, " Norah laughed. "What's the matter with you two?"

"Got an idea, " Wally gasped, fanning himself with a pine cone. 

"Hurt you?"

"Rather. It's always a shock for me to have an idea. Anyway this isn'tmine--it's Jim's. "

"Oh. " Norah's tone was more respectful. Jim's ideas were not to betreated lightly as a rule. "Well, let's hear it. "

"Fishing, " Jim said laconically. "Let's start out at the very daybreak, and get up the river to Anglers' Bend. They say you can always get fishthere. We'll ride, and take Billy to carry the tucker and look for bait. Spend the whole blessed day, and come home with the mopokes. What do youchaps say?"

"Grand idea!" Norah cried, giving her hammock an ecstatic swing. "We'llhave to fly round, though. Did you ask Dad?"

"Yes, and he said we could go. It's tucker that's the trouble. I don'tknow if we're too late to arrange about any. "

"Come and ask Mrs. Brown, " said Norah, flinging a pair of long blacklegs over the edge of the hammock. "She'll fix us up if she can. "

They tore off to the kitchen and arrived panting. Mrs. Brown was sittingin calm state on the kitchen verandah, and greeted them with a wide, expansive smile. Norah explained their need. 

Mrs. Brown pursed up her lips. 

"I haven't anythink fancy, my dear, " she said slowly. "Only plum cakeand scones, and there's a nice cold tongue, and an apple pie. I'd likeyou to have tarts, but the fire's out. Do you think you could manage?"

Jim laughed. 

"I guess that'll do, Mrs. Brown, " he said. "We'll live like fightingcocks, and bring you home any amount of fish for breakfast. Don't youworry about sandwiches, either--put in a loaf or two of bread, and achunk of butter, and we'll be right as rain. "

"Then I'll have it all packed for you first thing, Master Jim, " Mrs. Brown declared. 

"That's ripping, " said the boys in a breath. "Come and find Billy. "

Billy was dragged from the recesses of the stable. He grinned widelywith joy at the prospect of the picnic. 

"All the ponies ready at five, Billy, " ordered Jim. "Yours too. We'regoing to make a day of it--and we'll want bait. Now, you chaps, comealong and get lines and hooks ready!"

* * * * *

"Whirr-r-r!"

The alarm clock by Jim's bedside shrieked suddenly in the first hint ofdaylight, and Jim sprang from his pillow with the alertness of aJack-in-the-box, and grabbed the clock, to stop its further eloquence. He sat down on the edge of his bed, and yawned tremendously. At theother side of the room Harry slept peacefully. Nearer Wally's black eyestwinkled for a moment, and hurriedly closed, apparently in deep slumber. He snored softly. 

"Fraud!" said Jim, with emphasis. He seized his pillow, and hurled itvigorously. It caught Wally on the face and stayed there, and beneathits shelter the victim still snored on serenely. 

Jim rose with deliberation and, seizing the bedclothes, gave a judiciouspull, which ended in Wally's suddenly finding himself on the floor. Heclasped wildly at the blankets, but they were dragged from his reluctantgrasp. Jim's toe stirred him gently and at length he rose. 

"Beast!" he said miserably. "What on earth's the good of getting up atthis hour?"

"Got to make an early start, " replied his host. "Come and stir up oldHarry. "

Harry was noted as a sleeper. Pillows hurled on top of him were asnought. The bedclothes were removed, but he turned on his side andslumbered like a little child. 

"And to think, " Wally said, "that that chap springs up madly when thegetting-up bell rings once at school!"

"School was never like this, " Jim grinned. "There's the squirt, Wal. "

The squirt was there; so was the jug of water, and a moment sufficed tocharge the weapon. The nozzle was gently inserted into the sleeper'spyjama collar, and in a moment the drenched and wrathful hero arosemajestically from his watery pillow and, seizing his tormentors, bangedtheir heads together with great effort. 

"You're slow to wake, but no end of a terror when once you rouse up, "said Wally, ruefully rubbing his pate. 

"Goats!" said Harry briefly, rubbing his neck with a hard towel. "Comeon and have a swim. "

They tore down the hail, only pausing at Norah's door while Jim ran into wake her--a deed speedily accomplished by gently and firmly pressinga wet sponge upon her face. Then they raced to the lagoon, and in a fewminutes were splashing and ducking in the water. They spent more timethere than Jim had intended, their return being delayed by a spiritedboat race between Harry's slippers, conducted by Wally and Jim. By thetime Harry had rescued his sopping footgear, the offenders were beyondpursuit in the middle of the lagoon, so he contented himself withannexing Jim's slippers, in which he proudly returned to the house. Jim, arriving just too late to save his own, promptly "collared" those ofWally, leaving the last-named youth no alternative but to paddle home inthe water-logged slippers--the ground being too rough and stony to admitof barefoot travelling. 

Norah, fresh from the bath, was prancing about the verandah in herkimono as the boys raced up to the house, her hair a dusky cloud abouther face. 

"Not dressed?--you laziness!" Jim flung at her. 

"Well, you aren't either, " was the merry retort. 

"No; but we've got no silly hair to brush!"

"Pooh!--that won't take me any time. Mrs. Brown's up, Jim, and she saysbreakfast will be ready in ten minutes. "

"Good old Brownie!" Jim ejaculated. "Can't beat her, can you? D'you knowif she's got the swag packed?"

"Everything's packed, and she's given it all to Billy, and it's on oldPolly by now. " Polly was the packhorse. "Such a jolly, big bundle--andeverything covered over with cabbage leaves to keep it cool. "

"Hooroo for Casey! Well, scurry and get dressed, old girl. I bet youkeep us waiting at the last. "

"I'm sure I won't, " was the indignant answer, as Norah ran off throughthe hail. "Think of how much longer you take over your breakfast!"

Ten minutes later breakfast smoked on the wide kitchen table, Mrs. Brown, like a presiding goddess, flourishing a big spoon by a frying-panthat sent up a savoury odour. 

"I'm sure I hope you'll all kindly excuse having it in here, " she saidin pained tones. "No use to think of those lazy hussies of girls havingthe breakfast-room ready at this hour. So I thought as how you wouldn'tmind. "

"Mind!--not much, Mrs. Brown, " Jim laughed. "You're too good to usaltogether. Eggs and bacon! Well, you are a brick! Cold tucker wouldhave done splendidly for us. "

"Cold, indeed!--not if I know it--and you precious lambs off for such aride, and going to be hot weather and all, " said the breathless Mrs. Brown indignantly. "Now, you just eat a good breakfast, Miss Norah, mylove. I've doughnuts here, nearly done, nice and puffy and brown, justas you like them, so hurry up and don't let your bacon get cold. "

There was not, indeed, much chance for the bacon, which disappeared in amanner truly alarming, while its fate was speedily shared by the hugepile of crisp doughnuts which Mrs. Brown presently placed upon the tablewith a flourish. 

"We don't get things like this at school!" Wally said regretfully, pausing for an instant before his seventh. 

"All the more reason you should eat plenty now, " said their constructor, holding the doughnuts temptingly beneath his nose. "Come now, dearie, doeat something!" and Wally bashfully recommenced his efforts. 

"How's Billy getting on?" Jim inquired. 

"Billy's in the back kitchen, Master Jim, my love, and you've no call toworry your head about him, He's had three plates of bacon and five eggs, and most like by this time he's finished all his doughnuts and drunk hiscoffee-pot dry. That black image will eat anythink, " concluded Mrs. Brown solemnly. 

"Well, I can't eat anything more, anyhow, " Jim declared. "How we're allgoing to ride fifteen miles beats me. If we sleep all day, instead ofcatching fish for you, you've only got yourself to blame, Mrs. Brown. "Whereat Mrs. Brown emitted fat and satisfied chuckles, and the meetingbroke up noisily, and rushed off to find its hats. 

Six ponies in a line against the stable yard fence--Bobs, with an eyelooking round hopefully for Norah and sugar; Mick, most feather-headedof chestnuts, and Jim's especial delight; Topsy and Barcoo, good usefulstation ponies, with plenty of fun, yet warranted not to break the necksof boy-visitors; Bung Eye, a lean piebald, that no one but black Billyever thought of riding; next to him old Polly, packed securely with theday's provisions. Two fishing-rods stuck out from her bundles, and a bigbunch of hobbles jingled as she moved. 

There was nothing in the saddles to distinguish Norah's mount, for she, too, rode astride. Mr. Linton had a rooted dislike to side saddles, andwas wont to say he preferred horses with sound withers and a daughterwhose right hip was not higher than her left. So Norah rode on a daintylittle hunting saddle like Jim's, her habit being a neat divided skirt, which had the double advantage of looking nice on horseback, and havingno bothersome tail to hold up when off. 

The boys were dressed without regard to appearances--loose old coatsand trousers, soft shirts and leggings. Red-striped towels, peeping outof Polly's packs, indicated that Jim had not forgotten thepossibilities of bathing which the creek afforded. A tin teapot jangledcheerfully against a well-used black billy. 

"All right, you chaps?" Jim ran his eye over the ponies and their gear. "Better have a look at your girths. Come along. "

Norah was already in the saddle, exulting over the fact that, in spiteof Jim's prophecy that she would be late, she was the first to bemounted. Bobs was prancing happily, infected with the gaiety of themoment, the sweet morning air and sunshine, and the spirit of mirth thatwas everywhere. Mick joined him in capering, as Jim swung himself intothe saddle. Billy, leading Polly, and betraying an evident distaste fora task which so hampered the freedom of his movements, moved off downthe track. 

Just as Wally and Harry mounted, a tall figure in pyjamas appeared atthe gate of the back yard. 

"There's Dad!" Norah cried gleefully, cantering up to him. The boysfollowed. 

"Had to get up to see the last of you, " Mr. Linton said; "not muchchance of sleeping anyhow, with you rowdy people about. "

"Did we wake you, Dad?--sorry. "

"Very sorry, aren't you?" Mr. Linton laughed at the merry face. "Well, take care of yourselves; remember, Norah's in your charge, Jim, and allthe others in yours, Norah! Keep an eye to your ponies, and don't letthem stray too far, even if they are hobbled. And mind you bring me homeany amount of fish, Harry and Wal. "

"We will, sir, " chorused the boys. 

Norah leant from her saddle and slipped an arm round her father's neck. 

"Good-bye, Dad, dear. "

"Good-bye, my little girl. Be careful--don't forget. " Mr. Linton kissedher fondly. "Well, you're all in a hurry--and so am I, to get back tobed! So-long, all of you. Have a good time. "

"So-long!" The echoes brought back the merry shout as the six poniesdisappeared round the bend in the track. 

Down the track to the first gate helter-skelter--Billy, holding it open, showed his white teeth in a broad grin as the merry band swept through. Then over the long grass of the broad paddock, swift hoofs shaking offthe dewdrops that yet hung sparkling in the sunshine. Billy plodded farbehind with the packhorse, envy in his heart and discontent with thefate that kept him so far in the rear, compelled to progress at thetamest of jogs. 

The second paddock traversed, they passed through the sliprails into abush paddock known as the Wide Plain. It was heavily timbered towardsone end, where the river formed its boundary, but towards the end atwhich they entered was almost cleared, only a few logs lying here andthere, and occasionally a tall dead tree. 

"What a place for a gallop!" said Harry. His quiet face was flushed andhis eyes sparkling. 

"Look at old Harry!" jeered Wally. "He's quite excited. Does your motherknow you're out, Hal?"

"I'll punch you, young Wally, " retorted Harry. "Just you be civil. Butisn't it a splendid place? Why, there's a clear run for a mile, I shouldsay. "

"More than that, " Jim answered. "We've often raced here. "

"Oh!" Norah's eyes fairly danced. "Let's have a race now!"

"Noble idea!" exclaimed Wally. 

"Well, it'll have to be a handicap to make it fair, " Jim said. "If westart level, Norah's pony can beat any of the others, and I think Mickcan beat the other two. At any rate we'll give you fellows a start, andNorah must give me one. "

"I don't care, " Norah said gleefully, digging her heel into Bobs, withthe result that that animal suddenly executed a bound in mid-air. "Steady, you duffer; I didn't mean any offence, Bobsie dear, " She pattedhis neck. 

"I should think you wouldn't care, " Jim said. "Best pony and lightestweight! You ought to be able to leave any of us miles behind, so we'llgive you a beautiful handicap, young woman!"

"Where's the winning post?" Harry asked. 

"See that big black tree--the one just near the boundary fence, I mean?It's a few chains from the fence, really. We'll finish there, " Jimreplied. 

"Come on, then, " said Norah, impatiently. "Get on ahead, Harry andWally; you'll have to sing out 'Go!' Jim, and sing it out loud, 'causewe'll be ever so far apart. "

"Right oh!" Jim said. "Harry, clear on a good way; you're the heaviest. Pull up when I tell you; you too, Wal. " He watched the two boys ride onslowly, and sang out to them to stop when he considered they hadreceived a fair start. Then he rode on himself until he was midwaybetween Wally and Norah, Harry some distance ahead of the former. Theponies had an inkling of what was in the wind, and were dancing withimpatience. 

"Now then, Norah, "--Jim flung a laughing look over his shoulder--"nocribbing there!"

"I'm not!" came an indignant voice. 

"All right--don't! Ready every one? Then--go!" As the word "Go" leftJim's lips the four ponies sprang forward sharply, and a moment laterwere in full gallop over the soft springy turf. It was an ideal placefor a race--clear ground, covered with short soft grass, well eaten offby the sheep--no trees to bar the way, and over all a sky of thebrightest blue, flecked by tiny, fleecy cloudlets. 

They tore over the paddock, shouting at the ponies laughing, hurlingdefiance at each other. At first Harry kept his lead; but weight willtell, and presently Wally was almost level with him, with Jim not farbehind. Bobs had not gone too well at first--he was too excited to getthoroughly into his stride, and had spent his time in dancing when heshould have been making up his handicap. 

When, however, he did condescend to gallop, the distance that separatedhim from the other ponies was rapidly overhauled. Norah, leaning forwardin her stirrups, her face alight with eagerness, urged him on with voiceand hand--she rarely, if ever touched him with a whip at any time. Quickly she gained on the others; now Harry was caught and passed, evenas Jim caught Wally and deprived him of the lead he had gaily held forsome time. Wally shouted laughing abuse at him, flogging his pony on thewhile. 

Now Norah was neck and neck with Wally, and slowly she drew past him andset sail after Jim. That she could beat him she knew very well, but thequestion was, was there time to catch him? The big tree which formed thewinning post was very near now. "Scoot, Bobsie, dear!" whispered Norahunconscious of the fact that she was saying anything unmaidenly. At anyrate, Bobs understood, for he went forward with a bound. They werenearly level with Jim now--Wally, desperately flogging, close in therear. 

At that moment Jim's pony put his foot into a hole, and went down like ashot rabbit, bowling over and over, Jim flung like a stone out of acatapult, landed some distance ahead of the pony. He, too, rolled for amoment, and then lay still. 

It seemed to Norah that she pulled Bobs up almost in his stride. Certainly she was off before he had fairly slackened to a walk, throwingherself wildly from the saddle. She tore up to Jim--Jim, who layhorribly still. 

"Jim--dear Jim!" she cried. She took his head on her knee. "Jim--oh, Jim, do speak to me!"

There was no sound. The boy lay motionless, his tanned face strangelywhite. Harry, coming up, jumped off, and ran to his side. 

"Is he hurt much?"

"I don't know--no, don't you say he's hurt much--he couldn't be, in sucha second! Jim--dear--speak, old chap!" A big sob rose in her throat, andchoked her at the heavy silence. Harry took Jim's wrist in his hand, andfelt with fumbling fingers for the pulse. Wally, having pulled his ponyup with difficulty, came tearing back to the little group. 

"Is he killed?" he whispered, awestruck. 

A little shiver ran through Jim's body. Slowly he opened his eyes, andstretched himself. 

"What's up?" he said weakly. "Oh, I know.... Mick?"

"He's all right, darling, " Norah said, with a quivering voice. "Are youhurt much?"

"Bit of a bump on my head, " Jim said, struggling to a sitting position. He rubbed his forehead. "What's up, Norah?" For the brown head had gonedown on his knee and the shoulders were shaking. 

Jim patted her head very gently. 

"You dear old duffer, " he said tenderly. 

CHAPTER V. ANGLERS' BEND

Jim's "bump on the head" luckily proved not very serious. Ahandkerchief, soaked in the creek by Wally, who rode there and back ata wild gallop, proved an effective bandage applied energetically byHarry, who had studied "first-aid" in an ambulance class. Ten minutesof this treatment, however, proved as much as Jim's patience wouldstand, and at the end of that time he firmly removed the handkerchief, and professed himself cured. 

"Nothing to make a fuss about, anyhow, " he declared, in answer tosympathetic inquiries. "Head's a bit 'off, ' but nothing to grumble at. It'll be all right, if we ride along steadily for a while. I don't thinkI'll do any more racing just now though, thank you!"

"Who won that race?" queried Harry, laughing. The spirits of the littleparty, from being suddenly at zero, had gone up with a bound. 

"Blessed if I know, " said Jim. "I only know I was leading until Mickended matters for me. "

"I led after that, anyhow, " said Wally. "Couldn't pull my beauty up, hewas so excited by Mick's somersault. "

"I'd have won, in the long run!" Norah said. There were still traces oftears in her eyes, but her face was merry enough. She was riding veryclose to Jim. 

"Yes, I think you would, " Jim answered; "you and Bobs were coming uplike a hurricane last time I looked round. Never mind, we'll call itanybody's race and have it over again sometime. "

They rode along for a few miles, keeping close to the river, which woundin and out, fringed with a thick belt of scrub, amongst which rose tallred-gum trees. Flights of cockatoos screamed over their heads, andmagpies gurgled in the thick shades by the water. Occasionally came theclear whistle of a lyre bird or the peal of a laughing jackass. Jim knewall the bird-notes, as well as the signs of bush game, and pointed themout as they rode. Once a big wallaby showed for an instant, and therewas a general outcry and a plunge in pursuit, but the wallaby was tooquick for them, and found a safe hiding-place in the thickest of thescrub, where the ponies could not follow. 

"We cross the creek up here, " Jim said, "and make 'cross country a bit. It saves several miles. "

"How do you cross? Bridge?" queried Wally. 

"Bridge!--don't grow such things in this part of the world, " laughedJim. "No, there's a place where it's easy enough to ford, a little wayup. There are plenty of places fordable, if you only know them, on thiscreek; but a number of them are dangerous, because of deep holes andboggy places. Father lost a good horse in one of those bogs, and to lookat the place you'd only have thought it a nice level bit of grassyground. "

"My word!" Wally whistled. "What a bit of hard luck!"

"Yes, it was, rather, " Jim said. "It made us careful about crossing, Ican tell you. Even the men look out since Harry Wilson got boggedanother time, trying to get over after a bullock. Of course he wouldn'twait to go round, and he had an awful job to get his horse out of themud--it's something like a quicksand. After that father had two or threegood crossings made very plain and clear, and whenever a new man is puton they're explained to him. See, there's one now. "

They came suddenly on a gap in the scrub, leading directly to the creek, which was, indeed, more of a river than a creek, and in winter ran in abroad, rapid stream. Even in summer it ran always, though the fullcurrent dwindled to a trickling, sluggish streamlet, with here andthere a deep, quiet pool, where the fish lay hidden through the long hotdays. 

All the brushwood and trees had been cleared away, leaving a broadpathway to the creek. At the edge of the gap a big board, nailed to atall tree, bore the word FORD in large letters. Farther on, between thetrees, a glimpse of shining water caught the eye. 

"That's the way father's had all the fords marked, " Norah said. "He saysit's no good running risks for the sake of a little trouble. "

"Dad's always preaching that, " Jim observed. "He says people are toofond of putting up with makeshifts, that cost ever so much more time andtrouble than it does to do a thing thoroughly at the start. So he alwaysmakes us do a thing just as well as we know how, and there's no end ofrows if he finds any one 'half doing' a job. 'Begin well and finishbetter, ' he says. My word, it gives you a lesson to see how he fixes athing himself. "

"Dear old Dad, " said Norah softly, half to herself. 

"I think your father's just splendid, " Harry said enthusiastically. "Hedoes give you a good time, too. "

"Yes, I know he does, " Jim said. "I reckon he's the best man that everlived! All the same, he doesn't mean to give me a good time always. WhenI leave school I've got to work and make my own living, with just astart from him. He says he's not going to bring any boy up to be aloafer. " Jim's eyes grew soft. "I mean to show him I can work, too, " hesaid. 

They were at the water's edge, and the ponies gratefully put their headsdown for a drink of the cool stream that clattered and danced over itsstony bed. After they had finished, Jim led the way through the water, which was only deep enough to wash the ponies' knees. When they hadclimbed the opposite bank, a wide, grassy plain stretched before them. 

"We cut across here, " Norah explained, "and pick up the creek overthere--that saves a good deal. "

"Does Billy know this cut?" Harry queried. 

"What doesn't Billy know?" Norah laughed. "Come along. "

They cantered slowly over the grass, remembering that Jim was scarcelyfit yet for violent exercise, though he stoutly averred that hisaccident had left no traces whatever. The sun was getting high and itwas hot, away from the cool shade near the creek. Twice a hare boundedoff in the grass, and once Harry jumped off hurriedly and killed a bigbrown snake that was lazily sunning itself upon a broad log. 

"I do hate those beasts!" he said, remounting. Norah had held his ponyfor him. 

"So do I, " she nodded; "only one gets used to them. Father found one onhis pillow the other night. "

"By George!" Harry said. "Did he kill it?"

"Yes, rather. They are pretty thick here, especially a bit earlier thanthis. One got into the kitchen through the window, by the big vine thatgrows outside, and when Mrs. Brown pulled down the blind it came, too--it was on the roller. That was last Christmas, and Mrs. Brown saysshe's shaking still!"

"Snakes are rummy things, " Harry observed. "Ever hear that you can charmthem with music?"

"I've heard it, " Norah said quaintly. Her tone implied that it was apiece of evidence she did not accept on hearsay. 

"Well, I believe it's true. Last summer a whole lot of us were out onthe verandah, and there was plenty of laughing and talking going on--asnake wouldn't crawl into a rowdy group like that for the fun of it, now, would he? It was Christmas day, and my little brother Phil--he'ssix--had found a piccolo in his stocking, and he was sitting on the endof the verandah playing away at this thing. We thought it was a bit of arow, but Phil was quite happy. Presently my sister Vera looked at him, and screamed out, 'Why, there's a snake!'

"So there was, and it was just beside Phil. It had crawled up betweenthe verandah boards, and was lying quietly near the little chap, lookingat him stealthily--he was blowing away, quite unconcerned. We didn'tknow what to do for a moment, for the beastly thing was so near Philthat we didn't like to hit it for fear we missed and it bit him. However, Phil solved the difficulty by getting up and walking off, stillplaying the piccolo. The snake never stirred when he did--and you may besure it didn't get much chance to stir after. Three sticks came down onit at the same time. "

"I say!" Norah breathed quickly. "What an escape for poor Phil!"

"Wasn't it? He didn't seem to care a bit when we showed him the snakeand told him it had been so near him--he hadn't known a thing about it. 'Can't be bovvered wiv snakes, ' was all he said. "

"When I was a little kiddie, " Norah said, "they found me playing with asnake one day. "

"Playing with it?" Harry echoed. 

"Yes; I was only about two, and I don't remember anything about it. Dadcame on to the back verandah, and saw me sitting by a patch of dust, stroking something. He couldn't make out what it was at first, and thenhe came a bit nearer, and saw that it was a big snake. It was lying inthe dust sunning itself, and I was stroking it most kindly. "

"By George!" said Harry. 

"Funny what things kiddies will do!" said Norah, with all thesuperiority of twelve long years. "It frightened Dad tremendously. Hedidn't know what to do, 'cause he didn't dare come near or call out. Is'pose the snake saw him, 'cause it began to move. It crawled right overmy bare legs. "

"And never bit you?"

"No; I kept on stroking its back as it went over my knees, without theleast idea that it was anything dangerous. Dad said it seemed years andyears before it went right over and crawled away from me into the grass. He had me out of the way in about half a second, and got a stick, and Icried like anything when he killed it, and said he was naughty!"

"If you chaps have finished swopping snake yarns, " said Jim, turning inhis saddle, "there's Anglers' Bend. "

They had been riding steadily across the plain, until they had againcome near the scrub-line which marked the course of the creek. Followingthe direction pointed by Jim's finger, they saw a deep curve in thegreen, where the creek suddenly left the fairly straight course it hadbeen pursuing and made two great bends something like a capital U, thepoints of which lay in their direction. They rode down between themuntil they were almost at the water's edge. 

Here the creek was very deep, and in sweeping round had cut out a widebed, nearly three times its usual breadth. Tall trees grew almost to theverge of the banks on both sides, so that the water was almost always inshadow, while so high were the banks that few breezes were able toripple its surface. It lay placid all the year, scarcely troubled evenin winter, when the other parts of the creek rushed and tumbled inflood. There was room in the high banks of Anglers' Bend for all theextra water, and its presence was only marked by the strength of thecurrent that ran in the very centre of the stream. 

Just now the water was not high, and seemed very far below the children, who sat looking at it from their ponies on the bank. As they watched insilence a fish leaped in the middle of the Bend. The sudden movementseemed amazing in the stillness. It flashed for an instant in a patch ofsunlight, and then fell back, sending circling ripples spreading to eachbank. 

"Good omen, I hope, " Harry said, "though they often don't bite when theyjump, you know. "

"It's not often they don't bite here, " Jim said. 

"Well, it looks a good enough place for anything--if we can't catch fishhere, we won't be up to much as anglers, " Harry said. 

"You've been here before, haven't you, Norah?" Wally asked. 

"Oh, yes; ever so many times. "

"Father and Norah have great fishing excursions on their own, " said Jim. "They take a tent and camp out for two or three days with Billy asgeneral flunkey. I don't know how many whales they haven't caught atthis place. They know the Bend as well as any one. "

"Well, I guess we'd better take off the saddles and get to work, " saidNorah, slipping off Bobs and patting his neck before undoing the girth. The boys followed her example and soon the saddles were safely stowed inthe shade. Then Jim turned with a laugh. 

"Well, we are duffers, " he said. "Can't do a thing till Billy turns up. He's got all the hooks and lines, all the bait, all the hobbles, all theeverything!"

"Whew-w!" whistled the boys. 

"Well, it doesn't matter, " Norah said cheerfully. "There's lots to do. We can hang up the ponies while we hunt for rods. You boys have got yourstrong knives, haven't you?"

They had, and immediately scattered to work. The ponies having been tiedsecurely under a grove of saplings, the search for rods began, and soonfour long straight sticks were obtained with the necessary amount of"springiness. " Then they hunted for a suitable camping-ground, wherelunch might be eaten without too much disturbance from flies andmosquitoes, and gathered a good supply of dry sticks for a fire. 

"Billy ought to bless us, anyhow, " Jim grinned. 

"Yes, oughtn't he? Come along and see if he's coming. " They ran out uponthe plain, and cheerful exclamations immediately proclaimed the factthat Billy and the old packhorse had at length made their appearance inwhat Wally called the "offing. "

Billy soon clattered up to the little party, the hobbles and quart potjingling cheerfully on old Polly's back. He grinned amiably at the fourmerry faces awaiting him in the shade of a wattle tree. 

"This feller pretty slow, " he said, indicating Polly with a jerk of histhumb. "You all waitin' for tackle?"

"Rather, " said Jim. "Never mind, we've got everything ready. Look sharpand shy down the hooks, Billy--they're in that tin, and the lines aretied on to it, in a parcel. That's right, " as the black boy tossed thetackle down and he caught it deftly. "Now, you chaps, get to work, andget your lines ready. "

"Right oh!" said the chorus, as it fell to work. Billy made a swiftincursion into the interior of the pack, and fished up a tin of wormsand some raw meat, Wally being the only one to patronize the latter. Theother three baited their hooks with worms, and, all being in readiness, made their way down the steep bank at a place where a little cleft gaveeasier access to a tiny shelving beach below. Here a great tree-trunkhad long ago been left by an unusually high flood, and formed a splendidplace to fish from, as it jutted out for some distance over the stream. Norah scrambled out like a cat to its farthest extremity, and Harryfollowed her for part of the way. Wally and Jim settled themselves atintervals along the trunk. Sinkers, floats and baits were examined, andthe business of the day began. 

Everybody knows how it feels to fish. You throw in your hook with suchblissful certainty that no fish can possibly resist the temptation youare dangling before its eyes. There is suppressed excitement all overyou. You are all on the alert, feeling for imaginary nibbles, for bitesthat are not there. Sometimes, of course, the dreams come true, and thebites are realities; but these occasions are sadly outnumbered by thetimes when you keep on feeling and bobbing your line vainly, whileexcitement lulls to expectation, and expectation merges into hope, andhope becomes wishing, and wishing often dies down to disappointment. 

Such was the gradual fate of the fishing party at Anglers' Bend. Atfirst the four floats were watched with an intensity of regard thatshould surely have had some effect in luring fishes to the surface; butas the minutes dragged by and not a fish seemed inclined even to nibble, the solemn silence which had brooded on the quartet was broken by sundryfidgetings and wrigglings and suppressed remarks on the variableness offish and the slowness of fishing. Men enjoy the sport, because they canlight their pipes and smoke in expectant ease; but the consolation oftobacco was debarred from boys who were, as Jim put it, "too young tosmoke and too old to make idiots of themselves by trying it, " and sothey found it undeniably dull. 

Billy came down to join the party presently, after he had seen to hishorses and unpacked old Polly's load. His appearance gave Jim abrilliant idea, and he promptly despatched the black boy for cake, whichproved a welcome stimulant to flagging enthusiasm. 

"Don't know if fish care about cake crumbs, " said Harry, finishing ahuge slice with some regret. 

"Didn't get a chance of sampling any of mine, " Wally laughed; "I wantedit all myself. Hallo!"

"What is it--a bite?"

"Rather--such a whopper! I've got it, too, " Wally gasped, tugging at hisline. 

"You've got it, right enough, " Jim said. "Why, your rod's bending rightover. Want a hand?"

"No, thanks--manage it myself, " said the fisherman, tugging manfully. "Here she comes!"

The line came in faster now, and the strain on the rod was plain. Excitement ran high. 

"It's a great big perch, I do believe, " Norah exclaimed. "Just fancy, ifit beats Dad's big boomer--the biggest ever caught here. "

"It'll beat some records, " Wally gasped, hauling in frantically. "Hereshe comes!"

"She" came, with a final jerk. Jim broke into a suppressed shout oflaughter. For Wally's catch was nothing less than an ancient, mud-ladenboot!

CHAPTER VI. A BUSH FIRE

Wally disentangled his hook gravely, while the others would havelaughed more heartily but for fear of frightening the fish. 

"Well, I'm blessed!" said the captor at length, surveying the prize withhis nose in the air. "A blooming old boot! Been there since the yearone, I should think, by the look of it. "

"I thought you had a whale at the very least, " grinned Harry. 

"Well, I've broken my duck, anyhow, and that's more than any of youothers can say!" Wally laughed. "Time enough for you to grin when you'vecaught something yourselves--even if it's only an old boot! It's a realold stager and no mistake. I wonder how it came in here. "

"Some poor old beggar of a swaggie, I expect, " Jim said. "He didn'tchuck it away until it was pretty well done, did he? Look at the holesin the uppers--and there's no sole left to speak of. "

"Do you see many tramps here?" Harry asked. 

"Not many--we're too far from a road, " Jim replied. "Of course there area certain number who know of the station, and are sure of getting tuckerthere--and a job if they want one--not that many of them do, the lazybeggars. Most of them would be injured if you asked them to chop a bitof wood in return for a meal, and some of them threaten to set the placeon fire if they don't get all they want. "

"My word!" said Wally. "Did they ever do it?"

"Once--two years ago, " Jim answered. "A fellow came one hot evening inJanuary. We'd had a long spell of heat, and all our meat had gone badthat day; there was hardly a bit in the place, and of course theycouldn't kill a beast till evening. About the middle of the day thischap turned up and asked for tucker. 

"Mrs. Brown gave him bread and flour and tea and some cake--a real goodhaul for any swaggie. It was too good for this fellow, for heimmediately turned up his proud nose and said he wanted meat. Mrs. Brownexplained that she hadn't any to give him; but he evidently didn'tbelieve her, said it was our darned meanness and, seeing no men about, got pretty insulting. At last he tried to force his way past Mrs. Browninto the kitchen. "

"Did he get in?" asked Wally. 

"Nearly--not quite, though. Dad and Norah and I had been out riding, andwe came home, past the back yard, in the nick of time. We couldn't hearwhat the fellow was saying to Mrs. Brown, but his attitude was enough tomake us pull up, and as we did so we saw him try to shove her aside. Shewas plucky enough and banged the door in his face, but he got his footin the crack, so that it couldn't shut, and began to push it open. 

"Dad slipped off his horse gently. He made a sign to us to keep quietand went across the yard, and we saw him shake the lash of his stockwhiploose. You can just fancy how Norah and I were dancing with joy!

"Dad was just near the verandah when we saw the door give. Poor oldBrownie was getting the worst of it. We heard the fellow call outsomething--a threat--and Dad's arm went up, and the stockwhip came downlike a flash across the man's shoulder He gave one yell! You never heardsuch an amazed and terrified roar in your life!" and Jim chuckled withjoy at the recollection. 

"He turned on Dad and jumped at him, but he got another one with thewhip that made him pause, and then Dad caught him and shook him like arat. Mr. Swaggie was limp enough when it was over. 

"'I've a very good mind to give you in charge!' Dad said--he was simplyfurious. It made a fellow feel pretty bad to see poor old Brownie'swhite face in the doorway, and to think what a fright she had had. 

"The swaggie turned a very ugly look on Dad. 

"'You give me in charge, and I'll precious quick have you up forassault!' he said. 

"Dad laughed. 

"'As for that, you can do exactly as you choose, ' he said. 'I'll bequite ready to answer for thrashing a cur like you. However, you're notworth carting seventeen miles to Cunjee, so you can go--the quicker thebetter. "

"And he cleared, I suppose?" Wally asked. 

"He just did--went like a redshank. But when he got outside the gate anda bit away he stopped and turned round and let fly at Dad--such a volleyof threats and abuse you never heard. It finished up with somethingabout the grass; we didn't quite understand what; but we remembered itlater, and then it was clearer to us. However, he didn't stop toexplain, as Dad turned the dogs loose. They lost no time, and neitherdid the swaggie. He left the place at about the rate of a mile aminute!"

Jim paused. 

"Thought I had a bite, " he said, pulling up his line. "Bother it! Thebait's gone! Chuck me a worm, young Wally. " He impaled the worm andflung his line out again. 

"Where was I? Oh, yes. Norah and I were a bit scared about the swaggie, and wondered what he'd try to do; but Dad only laughed at us. It neverentered his head that the brute would really try to have his revenge. Ofcourse it would have been easy enough to have had him watched off theplace, but Dad didn't even think of it. He knows better now. 

"I waked up early next morning hearing someone yelling outside. It wasonly just light. I slipped out of my window and ran into the yard, andthe first thing I saw was smoke. It was coming from the west, a greatcloud of it, with plenty of wind to help it along. It was one of thosehot autumn mornings--you know the kind. Make you feel anyhow. "

"Who was yelling?" asked Harry. 

"One of Morrison's men--he owns the land adjoining ours. This fellow wascoo-eeing for all he was worth. 

"'You'd better rouse your men out quick 'n lively, ' he sang out. 'There's a big grass fire between us and you. All our chaps are workin'at it; but I don't fancy they can keep it back in this wind. '

"I just turned and ran. 

"The big bell we use for summoning the men to their meals hangs underthe kitchen verandah and I made a bee-line for it. There seemed plentyof rocks and bits of glass about, and my bare feet got 'em all--at leastI thought so--but there wasn't time to think much. Morrison's chap hadgalloped off as soon as he gave his news. I caught hold of the bell-pulland worked it all I knew!

"You should have seen them tumble out! In about half a minute the placewas like a jumpers' nest that you've stirred up with a stick. Dad cameout of the back door in his pyjamas, Norah came scudding along theverandah, putting on her kimono as she ran, Brownie and the otherservants appeared at their windows, and the men came tumbling out of thebarracks and the hut like so many rabbits. 

"Dad was annoyed. 

"'What are you doing, you young donkey?' he sang out. 

"'Look over there!' I says, tugging the bell. 

"Dad looked. It didn't take him long to see what was up when he spiedthat big cloud of smoke. 

"'Great Scott!' he shouted. 'Jim, get Billy to run the horses up. Whereare you all? Burrows, Field, Henry! Get out the water-cart--quick. Allof you get ready fire-beaters. Dress yourselves--quickly!' (You couldsee that was quite an afterthought on Dad's part. ) Then he turned andfled inside to dress. "

"How ripping!" Wally said, wriggling on the log with joy. 

"Ripping, do you call it?" said Jim indignantly. "You try it foryourself, young Wally, and see. Fire's not much of a joke when you'refighting it yourself, I can tell you. Well, Dad was out again in abouttwo shakes, ready for the fray, and you can bet the rest of us didn'tlinger long. Billy had the horses up almost as soon, and every one gothis own. Things were a bit merry in the stockyard, I can tell you, andheels did fly. 

"After all, Norah here was the first mounted. Bobs was in the stable, you see, and Norah had him saddled before any of us had put our bridleson. Goodness knows how she dressed. I guess it wasn't much of a toilet!"

Jim ducked suddenly, and a chip hurled by Norah flew over his head andsplashed into the water. 

"Get out--you'll frighten the fish!" he said, grinning. "My yarn, oldgirl. "

"Might have had the sense to keep me out of it, " said Norah impolitely. 

"You be jiggered, " said Jim affectionately. "Anyhow, boys, you shouldhave seen Dad's face when Norah trotted over from the stable. He wasjust girthing up old Bosun, and I was wrestling with Sirdar, who didn'twant his crupper on. 

"'My dear child, ' Dad said, 'get off that pony and go back to bed. Youcan't think I could allow you to come out?'

"Poor old Norah's face fell about a foot. She begged and argued, but shemight as well have spared herself the trouble. At last Dad said shecould ride out in the first two paddocks, but no nearer the fire, shehad to be content with that. I think she was pretty near mopping hereyes. "

"Wasn't, " said Norah indistinctly. 

"Well, we went off. All of us had fire-beaters. You know we always havethem ready; and Field was driving the water-cart--it always stands readyfilled for use. We just galloped like mad. Dad didn't wait for anygates--Bosun can jump anything--and he just went straight acrosscountry. Luckily, there was no stock in the paddocks near the house, except that in one small paddock were about twenty valuable prize sheep. However, the fire was so far off that we reckoned they were safe, and sowe turned our attention to the fire. 

"We left old Norah in the second paddock, looking as miserable as abandicoot. Dad made her promise not to meddle with the fire. 'Promise meyou won't try any putting out on your own account, ' he said; and Norahpromised very reluctantly. I was jolly sorry you were out of it, youknow, old kid, " said Jim reflectively; and Norah gave him a littlesmile. 

"We made great time across the paddocks, " Jim continued. "Dad was everso far ahead, of course, but our contingent, that had to go round by thegates, didn't do so badly. Billy was on Mick, and he and I had a go forthe lead across the last paddock. "

"Who won?" asked Harry. 

"Me, " said Jim ungrammatically. "When we got into the smoke we had to goround a bit, or we'd have gone straight into the fire. We hung up thehorses in a corner that had been burnt round, and was safe from morefire, and off we went. There were ever so many men fighting it; allMorrison's fellows, and a lot from other places as well. The fire hadstarted right at our boundary, and had come across a two-hundred acrepaddock like a shot. Then a little creek checked it a bit, and let thefighters have a show. 

"There were big trees blazing everywhere, and stumps and logs, and everyfew minutes the fire would get going again in some ferns or long grass, and go like mischief, and half a dozen men after it, to stop it. It hadgot across the creek, and there was a line of men on the bank keeping itback. Some others were chopping down the big, blazing, dead trees, thatwere simply showering sparks all round. The wind was pretty strong, andtook burning leaves and sticks ever so far and started the fire indifferent places. Three fellows on ponies were doing nothing but watchfor these flying firebrands, galloping after them and putting them outas they fell. "

Jim paused. 

"Say you put your hook in the water, Wally, old chap, " he suggested. 

Wally looked and blushed. In the excitement of the moment he hadunconsciously pulled up his line until the bait dangled helplessly inthe air, a foot above the water. The party on the log laughed at theexpense of Wally, and Jim proceeded. 

"Father and four other men came across the creek and sang out to us--

"'We're going back a bit to burn a break!' they said. 'Come along. '

"We all went back about a hundred yards from the creek and lit thegrass, spreading out in a long line across the paddock. Then every onekept his own little fire from going in the wrong direction, and kept itburning back towards the creek, of course preventing any logs or treesfrom getting alight. It was pretty tough work, the smoke was so bad, butat last it was done, and a big, burnt streak put across the paddock. Except for flying bits of lighted stuff there wasn't much risk of thefire getting away from us when once we had got that break to help us. You see, a grass fire isn't like a real bush fire. It's a far moremanageable beast. It's when you get fire in thick scrub that you canjust make up your mind to stand aside and let her rip!"

Jim pulled up his book and examined his bait carefully. 

"Fish seem off us, " he said. 

"That all the yarn?" Harry asked. 

"No, there's more, if you're not sick of it. "

"Well, fire away, " Wally said impatiently. 

Jim let his sinker go down gently until it settled in comfort in thesoft mud at the bottom. 

"This is where I come to Norah, " he said. 

That young lady turned a lively red. 

"If you're going to tell all that bosh about me, I'm off, " she said, disgustedly. "Good-bye. You can call me when you've finished. "

"Where are you off to, Norah?" inquired Harry. 

"Somewhere to fish--I'm tired of you old gossips--" Norah elevated anaturally tilted nose as she wound up her tackle and rose to her feet. She made her way along the log past the three boys until she reached theland, and, scrambling up the bank, vanished in the scrub. Presently theysaw her reappear at a point a little lower down, where she ensconcedherself in the roots of a tree that was sticking out of the bank, andlooked extremely unsafe. She flung her line in below her perch. 

"Hope she's all right, " Harry said uneasily. 

"You bet. Norah knows what she's about, " Jim said calmly. "She can swimlike a fish anyhow!"

"Well, go on with your yarn, " urged Wally. 

"Well--I told you how we stopped the fire at the little creek, didn't I?We thought it was pretty safe after we had burnt such a good break, andthe men with axes had chopped down nearly all the big trees that werealight, so that they couldn't spread the fire. We reckoned we could sitdown and mop our grimy brows and think what fine, brave, bold heroes wewere! Which we did. 

"There was one big tree the men couldn't get down. It was right on a bitof a hill, near the bank of the creek--a big brute of a tree, hollow forabout twelve feet, and I don't know how high, but I'll bet it was over ahundred and fifty feet. It got alight from top to bottom, and, my word, didn't it blaze!

"The men tried to chop it down, but it was too hot a job even for asalamander. We could only watch it, and it took a lot of watching, because it was showering sparks and bits of wood, and blazing limbs andtwigs in every direction. Lots of times they blew into the dead grassbeyond our break, and it meant galloping to put them out. 

"The wind had been pretty high all the time, and it got up suddenly to aregular gale. It caught this old tree and fairly whisked its burninglimbs off. They flew ever so far. We thought we had them all out, whensuddenly Dad gave a yell. 

"There was a little, deep gully running at right angles to the creek, and right through the paddocks up to the house. In winter it was acreek, but now it was dry as a bone, and rank with dead grass at thebottom. As we looked we saw smoke rise from this gully, far away, in thehome paddock. 

"'My Shropshires!' said Dad, and he made a run for Bosun. 

"How we did tear! I never thought old Dad could run so hard! It seemedmiles to the corner where the horses were, and ages before we got onthem and were racing for the home paddock. And all the time the smokewas creeping along that beastly gully, and we knew well enough that, tear as we might, we couldn't be in time. 

"You see, the valuable sheep were in a paddock, where this gully ended. It wasn't very near the house, and no one might see the fire beforeevery sheep was roasted. We had only just got them. Dad had importedsome from England and some from Tasmania, and I don't know how much theyhadn't cost. "

"Weren't you afraid for the house as well?" asked Harry. 

"No. There was a big ploughed paddock near the house; it would havetaken a tremendous fire to get over that and the orchard and garden. Weonly worried about the Shropshires. 

"I got the lead away, but Dad caught me up pretty soon. Between us andthe sheep paddock there were only wire fences, which he wouldn't takeBosun over, so he couldn't race away from the rest of us this time. 

"We might as well take it easy, ' he said, 'for all the good we can do. The sheep nearly live in that gully. '

"All the same, we raced. The wind had gone down by now, so the firecouldn't travel as fast as it had done in the open ground. There was along slope leading down to the gully, and as we got to this we could seethe whole of the little paddock, and there wasn't a sheep in sight. Every blessed one was in the gully, and the fire was three-parts of theway along it!

"Roast mutton!' I heard Dad say under his breath. 

"Then we saw Norah. She came racing on Bobs to the fence of the paddocknear the head of the gully--much nearer the fire than we were. We sawher look at the fire and into the gully, and I reckon we all knew shewas fighting with her promise to Dad about not tackling the fire. Butshe saw the sheep before we could. They had run from the smoke along thegully till they came to the head of it, where it ended with pretty steepbanks all round. By that time they were thoroughly dazed, and there theywould have stayed until they were roasted. Sheep are stupid brutes atany time, but in smoke they're just idiots!

"Norah gave only one look. Then she slipped off Bobs and left him tolook after himself, and she tore down into the gully. "

"Oh, Jim, go on!" said Wally. 

"I'm going, " said Jim affably. 

"Dad gave one shout as Norah disappeared into the gully. 'Go back, mydarling!' he yelled, forgetting that he was so far off that he might aswell have shouted to the moon. Then he gave a groan, and dug his spursinto Bosun. I had mine as far as they'd go in Sirdar already!

"The smoke rolled on up the gully and in a minute it had covered it allup. I thought it was all up with Norah, too, and old Burrows behind mewas sobbing for all he was worth. We raced and tore and yelled!

"Then we saw a sheep coming up out of the smoke at the end of the gully. Another followed, and another, and then more, until every blessed one ofthe twenty was there (though we didn't stop to count 'em then, I cantell you!) Last of all--it just seemed years--came Norah!

"We could hear her shouting at the sheep before we saw her. They wereterribly hard to move. She banged them with sticks, and the last old ramshe fairly kicked up the hill. They were just out of the gully when thefire roared up it, and a minute or so after that we got to her. 

"Poor little kid; she was just black, and nearly blind with the smoke. It was making her cry like fun, " said Jim, quite unconscious of hisinappropriate simile. "I don't know if it was smoke in his case, but sowas Dad. We put the fire out quick enough; it was easy work to keep itin the gully. Indeed, Dad never looked at the fire, or the sheep either. He just jumped off Bosun, and picked Norah up and held her as if she wasa baby, and she hugged and hugged him. They're awfully fond of eachother, Dad and Norah. "

"And were the sheep all right?" Harry asked. 

"Right as rain; not one of the black-faced beauties singed. It was apretty close thing, you know, " Jim said reminiscently. "The fire wasjust up to Norah as she got the last sheep up the hill; there was a holeburnt in the leg of her riding skirt. She told me afterwards she made upher mind she was going to die down in that beastly hole. "

"My word, you must have been jolly proud of her!" Wally exclaimed. "Sucha kid, too!"

"I guess we were pretty proud, " Jim said quietly. "All the people aboutmade no end of a fuss about her, but Norah never seemed to think apennyworth about it. Fact is, her only thought at first was that Dadwould think she had broken her promise to him. She looked up at him inthe first few minutes, with her poor, swollen old eyes. 'I didn't forgetmy promise, Dad, dear, ' she said. 'I never touched the fire--only chasedyour silly old sheep!'"

"Was that the end of the fire?" Harry asked. 

"Well, nearly. Of course we had to watch the burning logs and stumps fora few days, until all danger of more fires was over, and if there'd beena high wind in that time we might have had trouble. Luckily there wasn'tany wind at all, and three days after there came a heavy fall of rain, which made everything safe. We lost about two hundred and fifty acres ofgrass, but in no time the paddock was green again, and the fire only didit good in the long run. We reckoned ourselves uncommonly lucky over thewhole thing, though if Norah hadn't saved the Shropshires we'd have hadto sing a different tune. Dad said he'd never shut up so much money inone small paddock again!"

Jim bobbed his float up and down despairingly. 

"This is the most fishless creek!" he said. "Well, the only thing leftto tell you is where the swagman came in. "

"Oh, by Jove, " Harry said, "I forgot the swaggie. "

"Was it his fault the fire started?" inquired Wally. 

"Rather! He camped under a bridge on the road that forms our boundarythe night Dad cleared him off the place, and the next morning, veryearly, he deliberately lit our grass in three places, and then made off. He'd have got away, too, and nobody would have known anything about it, if it hadn't been for Len Morrison. You chaps haven't met Len, have you?He's a jolly nice fellow, older than me, I guess he's about sixteennow--perhaps seventeen. 

"Len had a favourite cow, a great pet of his. He'd petted her as a calfand she'd follow him about like a dog. This cow was sick--they found herdown in the paddock and couldn't move her, so they doctored her whereshe was. Len was awfully worried about her, and used to go to her lateat night and first thing in the morning. 

"He went out to the cow on this particular morning about daylight. Shewas dead and so he didn't stay; and he was riding back when he saw theswag-man lighting our grass. It was most deliberately done. Len didn'tgo after him then. He galloped up to his own place and gave the alarm, and then he and one of their men cleared out after the brute. "

"Did they catch him?" Wally's eyes were dancing, and his sinker wavedunconsciously in the air. 

"They couldn't see a sign of him, " Jim said. "The road was a plain, straight one--you chaps know it--the one we drove home on from thetrain. No cover anywhere that would hide so much as a goat--not evenyou, Wal! They followed it up for a couple of miles, and then saw thathe must have gone across country somewhere. There was mighty littlecover there, either. The only possible hiding-place was along the creek. 

"He was pretty cunning--my word, he was! He'd started up the road--Lenhad seen him--and then he cut over the paddock at an angle, back to thecreek. That was why they couldn't find any tracks when they started upthe creek from the road, and they made sure he had given them the slipaltogether. 

"Len and the other fellow, a chap called Sam Baker, pegged away up thecreek as hard as they could go, but feeling pretty blue about catchingthe swaggie. Len was particularly wild, because he'd made so certain hecould lay his hands on the fellow, and if he hadn't been sure, of coursehe'd have stayed to help at the fire, and he didn't like being done outof everything! They could understand not finding any tracks. 

"'Of course it's possible he's walked in the water, ' Baker said. 

"'We'd have caught him by now if he had, ' Len said--'he couldn't getalong quickly in the water. Anyhow, if I don't see anything of himbefore we get to the next bend, I'm going back to the fire. '

"They were nearly up to the bend, and Len was feeling desperate, when hesaw a boot-mark half-way down the bank on the other side. He was overlike a shot--the creek was very shallow--and there were tracks as plainas possible, leading down to the water!

"You can bet they went on then!

"They caught him a bit farther up. He heard them coming, and left hisswag, so's he could get on quicker. They caught that first, and thenthey caught him. He had 'planted' in a clump of scrub, and they nearlypassed him, but Len caught sight of him, and they had him in a minute. "

"Did he come easily?" asked Wally. 

"Rather not! He sent old Len flying--gave him an awful black eye. Lenwas, up again and at him like a shot, and I reckon it was jolly pluckyof a chap of Len's age, and I dare say he'd have had an awful hiding ifSam hadn't arrived on the scene. Sam is a big, silent chap, and he canfight anybody in this district. He landed the swaggie first with onefist and then with the other, and the swaggie reckoned he'd been struckby a thunderbolt when they fished him out of the creek, where he hadrolled! You see, Sam's very fond of Len, and it annoyed him to see hiseye. 

"The swaggie did not do any more resisting. He was like a half-dead, drowned rat. Len and Sam brought him up to the men at the fire justafter we'd left to try to save Dad's Shropshires, and they and Mr. Morrison could hardly keep the men off him. He hid behind Sam, and criedand begged them to protect him. They said it was beastly. "

"Rather!" said Harry. "Where's he now?"

"Melbourne Gaol. He got three years, " said Jim. "I guess he's reflectingon the foolishness of using matches too freely!"

"By George!" said Wally, drawing a deep breath. "That was exciting, Jimmy!"

"Well, fishing isn't, " responded Jim pulling up his hook in disgust, anexample followed by the other boys. "What'll we do?"

"I move, " said Wally, standing on one leg on the log, "that this meetingdo adjourn from this dead tree. And I move a hearty vote of thanks toMr. Jim Linton for spinning a good yarn. Thanks to be paid immediately. There's mine, Jimmy!"

A resounding pat on the back startled Jim considerably, followed as itwas by a second from Harry. The assaulted one fled along the log, andhurled mud furiously from the bank. The enemy followed closely, andshortly the painful spectacle might have been seen of a host lying flaton his face on the grass, while his guests, sitting on his back, bumpedup and down to his extreme discomfort and the tune of "For He's a JollyGood Fellow!"

CHAPTER VII. WHAT NORAH FOUND

Norah, meanwhile, had been feeling somewhat "out of things. " It wasreally more than human nature could be expected to bear that she shouldremain on the log with the three boys, while Jim told amazing yarnsabout her. Still it was decidedly lonesome in the jutting root of theold tree, looking fixedly at the water, in which placidly lay a floatthat had apparently forgotten that the first duty of a float is to bob. 

Jim's voice, murmuring along in his lengthy recital, came to her softly, and she could see from her perch the interested faces of the two others. It mingled drowsily with the dull drone of bees in the ti-tree behindher, and presently Norah, to her disgust, found that she was growingdrowsy too. 

"This won't do!" she reflected, shaking herself. "If I go to sleep andtumble off this old root I'll startle away all the fish in the creek. "She looked doubtfully at the still water, now and then rippled by thesplash of a leaping fish. "No good when they jump like that, " said Norahto herself. "I guess I'll go and explore. "

She wound up her line quickly, and flung her bait to the lazyinhabitants of the creek as a parting gift. Then, unnoticed by the boys, she scrambled out of the tree and climbed up the bank, getting her blueriding-skirt decidedly muddy--not that Norah's free and independent soulhad ever learned to tremble at the sight of muddy garments. She hid herfishing tackle in a stump, and made her way along the bank. 

A little farther up she came across black Billy--a very cheerfulaboriginal, seeing that he had managed to induce no less than nineblackfish to leave their watery bed. 

"Oh, I say!" said Norah, round-eyed and envious. "How do you manage it, Billy? We can't catch one. "

Billy grinned. He was a youth of few words. 

"Plenty bob-um float, " he explained lucidly. "Easy 'nuff. You try. "

"No, thanks, " said Norah, though she hesitated for a moment. "I'm sickof trying--and I've no luck. Going to cook 'em for dinner, Billy?"

"Plenty!" assented Billy vigorously. It was his favourite word, andmeant almost anything, and he rarely used another when he could make itsuffice. 

"That's a good boy, " said Norah, approvingly, and black eighteen grinnedfrom ear to ear with pleasure at the praise of twelve-year-old white. "I'm going for a walk, Billy. Tell Master Jim to coo-ee when lunch isready. "

"Plenty, " said Billy intelligently. 

Norah turned from the creek and entered the scrub. She loved the bush, and was never happier than when exploring its recesses. A born bushmaid, she had never any difficulty about finding her way in the scrub, or ofretracing her steps. The faculty of bushmanship must be born in you; ifyou have it not naturally, training very rarely gives it. 

She rambled on aimlessly, noting, though scarcely conscious that she didso, the bush sights and scenes on either hand--clinging creepers andtwining plants, dainty ferns, nestling in hollow trees, clusters ofmaidenhair under logs; pheasants that hopped noiselessly in the shade, and a wallaby track in some moist, soft earth. Once she saw a carpetsnake lying coiled in a tussock and, springing for a stick, she ran atit, but the snake was too quick for her and she was only in time to hitat its tail as it whisked down a hole. Norah wandered on, feelingdisgusted with herself. 

Suddenly she stopped in amazement. 

She was on the edge of a small clear space, at the farther side of whichwas a huge blue-gum tree. Tall trees ringed it round, and the wholespace was in deep shade. Norah stood rooted to the ground in surprise. 

For at the foot of the big blue-gum was a strange sight, in that lonelyplace. It was nothing more or less than a small tent. 

The flap of the tent was down, and there were no inhabitants to be seen;but all about were signs of occupation. A well-blackened billy hung fromthe ridge-pole. Close to the tent was a heap of dry sticks, and a littlefarther away the ashes of a fire still smouldered, and over them ablackened bough, supported by two forked sticks, showed that the billyhad many times been boiled there. The little camp was all very neat andtidy. "It looks quite home-like, " said Norah to herself. 

As she watched, the flap of the tent was raised, and a very old man cameout. He was so tall that he had to bend almost double in stooping underthe canvas of the low tent. A queer old man, Norah thought him, as shedrew back instinctively into the shadow of the trees. When hestraightened himself he was wonderfully tall--taller even than Dad, whowas over six feet. He wore no hat, and his hair and beard were verylong, and as white as snow. Under bushy white eyebrows, a pair of brightblue eyes twinkled. Norah decided that they were nice eyes. 

But he certainly was queer. His clothes would hardly have passed musterin Collins Street, and would even have attracted attention in Cunjee. Hewas dressed entirely in skins--wallaby skins, Norah guessed, thoughthere was an occasional section that looked like 'possum. They didn'tlook bad, either, she thought--a kind of sleeved waistcoat, and loosetrousers, that were met at the knee by roughly-tanned gaiters, orleggings. Still, the whole effect was startling. 

The old man walked across to his fire and, kneeling down, carefullyraked away the ashes. Then he drew out a damper--Norah had never seenone before, but she knew immediately that it was a damper. It lookedgood, too--nicely risen, and brown, and it sent forth a fragrance thatwas decidedly appetizing. The old man looked pleased "Not half bad!" hesaid aloud, in a wonderfully deep voice, which sounded so amazing in thebush silence that Norah fairly jumped. 

The old man raked the ashes together again, and placed some sticks onthem, after which he brought over the billy, and hung it above the fireto boil. The fire quickly broke into a blaze, and he picked up thedamper again, and walked slowly back to the tent, where he paused toblow the dust from the result of his cookery. 

At this moment Norah became oppressed with a wild desire to sneeze. Shefought against it frantically, nearly choking in her efforts to remainsilent, while she wildly explored in her pockets for a nonexistenthandkerchief. 

As the water bursts from the dam the more violently because of itsimprisonment, so Norah's sneeze gained intensity and uproar from herefforts to repress it. It came--

"A--tish--oo--oo!"

The old man started violently. He dropped his damper and gazed round. 

"What on earth's that?" he said. "Who's there?" For a moment Norahhesitated. Should she run for her life? But a second's thought showedher no real reason why she should run. She was not in the leastfrightened, for it never occurred to Norah that anyone could wish tohurt her; and she had done nothing to make him angry. So she modestlyemerged from behind a friendly tree and said meekly, "It's me. "

"'Me', is it?" said the old man, in great astonishment. He stared hardat the little figure in the blue blouse and serge riding-skirt--at themerry face and the dark curls crowned by the shady Panama hat. "'Me ', "he repeated. "'Me' looks rather nice, I think. But what's she doinghere?"

"I was looking at you, " Norah exclaimed. 

"I won't be unpolite enough to mention that a cat may look at a king, "said the old man. "But don't you know that no one comes here? No youngladies in blue dresses and brown curls--only wombats and wallabies, andring-tailed 'possums--and me. Not you--me, but me--me! How do youaccount for being here?"

Norah laughed. She decided that she liked this very peculiar old man, whose eyes twinkled so brightly as he spoke. 

"But I don't think you know, " she said. "Quite a lot of other peoplecome here--this is Anglers' Bend. At least, Anglers' Bend's quite closeto your camp. Why, only, to-day there's Jim and the boys, and blackBilly, and me! We're not wallabies!"

"Jim--and the boys--and black Billy--and me!" echoed the old manfaintly. "Angels and ministers of grace, defend us! And I thought I hadfound the back of beyond, where I would never see anyone more civilizedthan a bunyip! But--I've been here for three months, little lady, andhave never come across anyone. Are you sure you're quite serious?"

"Quite, " Norah answered. "Perhaps it was that no one came across you, you know, because people really do come here to fish. Dad and I camphere sometimes, but we haven't been for more than three months. "

"Well, I must move, that's all, " said the old man. "I do likequiet--it's annoying enough to have to dress up and go into a townshipnow and then for stores. How do you like my clothes, by the way? I mayas well have a feminine opinion while I have the chance. "

"Did you make them yourself?" asked Norah. 

"Behold how she fences!" said the old man. "I did indeed!"

"Then they do you proud!" said Norah solemnly. 

The old man laughed. 

"I shall prize your expression of opinion, " he said. "May I ask the nameof my visitor?"

"I'm Norah. Please who are you?"

"That's a different matter, " said the other, looking nonplussed. "Icertainly had a name once, but I've quite forgotten it. I have anexcellent memory for forgetting. Would you think I was a bunyip? I'd bedelighted if you could!"

"I couldn't. " Norah shook her head. "But I'll tell you what I think youare. "

"Do. "

"A hermit!"

The old man's face cleared. 

"My dear Miss Norah, " he said, "you've made a profound discovery. Iam--I am--a hermit! Thank you very much. Being a hermit my resources arescanty, but may I hope that you will have lunch with me?

"I can't, I'm afraid, " said Norah, looking affectionately at the damper. "The boys will be looking for me, if I don't go back. Listen--there'sJim coo-eeing now!"

"And who may Jim be?" queried the Hermit, a trifle uneasily. 

"Jim's my brother, " Norah said. "He's fifteen, and he's just splendid. Harry and Wally are his two chums. "

"Coo-ee! Coo-ee!"

Norah answered the call quickly and turned to the Hermit, feeling alittle apologetic. 

"I had to call, " she explained--"Jim would be anxious. They want me forlunch. " She hesitated. "Won't you come too?" she asked timidly. 

"I haven't eaten with my fellow-men for more time than I'd care toreckon, " said the Hermit. "I don't know--will they let me aloneafterwards? Are they ordinary abominable boys?"

"Indeed, they're not!" said Norah indignantly. "They won't come near youat all, if you don't want them--but I know they'd be pleased if youcame. Do!"

"Coo-ee!"

"Jim's getting impatient, isn't he?" said the Hermit. "Well, Miss Norah, if you'll excuse my attire I'll come. Shall I bring my damper?"

"Oh, please!" Norah cried. "We've never tasted damper. "

"I wish _I_ hadn't, " said the Hermit grimly. He picked up the fallencake. "Let us away!" he said. "The banquet waits!"

During their walk through the scrub it occurred to Norah once or twiceto wonder if her companion were really a little mad. He said suchextraordinary things, all in the most matter-of-fact tone--but when shelooked up at him his blue eyes twinkled so kindly and merrily that sheknew at once he was all right, and she was quite certain that she likedhim very much. 

The boys were getting impatient. Lunch was ready, and when lunch hasbeen prepared by Mrs. Brown, and supplemented by fresh blackfish, friedover a camp fire by black Billy, it is not a meal to be kept waiting. They were grouped round the table-cloth, in attitudes more suggestive ofease than elegance, when Norah and her escort appeared, and for oncetheir manners deserted them. They gaped in silent amazement. 

"Boys, this is The Hermit, " said Norah, rather nervously. "I--I foundhim. He has a camp. He's come to lunch. "

"I must apologize for my intrusion, I'm afraid, " the Hermit said. "MissNorah was good enough to ask me to come. I--I've brought my damper!"

He exhibited the article half shyly, and the boys recovered themselvesand laughed uncontrollably. Jim sprang to his feet. The Hermit's firstwords had told him that this was no common swagman that Norah had pickedup. 

"I'm very glad to see you, sir, " he said, holding out his hand. 

"Thank you, " said the Hermit gravely. "You're Jim, aren't you? And Iconclude that this gentleman is Harry, and this Wally? Ah, I thought so. Yes, I haven't seen so many people for ages. And black Billy! How areyou Billy?"

Billy retreated in great embarrassment. 

"Plenty!" he murmured. 

Everybody laughed again. 

"Well, " Jim said, "we're hungry, Norah. I hope you and--er--thisgentleman are. " Jim was concealing his bewilderment like a hero. "Won'tyou sit down and sample Billy's blackfish? He caught 'em all--wecouldn't raise a bite between us--barring Wally's boot!"

"Did you catch a boot?" queried the Hermit of the blushing Wally. "Mine, I think--I can't congratulate you on your luck! If you like, afterlunch, I'll show you a place where you could catch fish, if you onlyheld the end of your finger in the water!"

"Good enough!" said Jim. "Thanks, awfully--we'll be jolly glad. Come on, Billy--trot out your frying-pan!"

Lunch began rather silently. 

In their secret hearts the boys were rather annoyed with Norah. 

"Why on earth, " Jim reflected, "couldn't she have left the old chapalone? The party was all right without him--we didn't want any oneelse--least of all an odd oddity like this. " And though the other boyswere loyal to Norah, she certainly suffered a fall in their estimation, and was classed for the moment with the usual run of "girls who do rummythings. "

However, the Hermit was a man of penetration and soon realized the stateof the social barometer. His hosts, who did not look at all like quietboys, were eating their blackfish in perfect silence, save for politerequests for bread or pepper, or the occasional courteous remark, "Chuckus the salt!"

Accordingly the Hermit exerted himself to please, and it would reallyhave taken more than three crabby boys to resist him. He told thedrollest stories, which sent everyone into fits of laughter, although henever laughed himself at all; and he talked about the bush, and toldthem of the queer animals he saw--having, as he said, unusually goodopportunities for watching the bush inhabitants unseen. He knew wherethe lyrebirds danced, and had often crept silently through the scrubuntil he could command a view of the mound where these strange birdsstrutted and danced, and mimicked the other birds with life-likefidelity. He loved the birds very much, and never killed any of them, even when a pair of thievish magpies attacked his larder and pecked adamper into little bits when he was away fishing. Many of the birds weretame with him now, he said; they would hop about the camp and let himfeed them; and he had a carpet snake that was quite a pet, which heoffered to show them--an offer that broke down the last totteringbarriers of the boys' reserve. Then there were his different methods oftrapping animals, some of which were strange even to Jim, who was atrapper of much renown. 

"Don't you get lonely sometimes?" Norah asked him. 

The Hermit looked at her gravely. 

"Sometimes, " he said. "Now and then one feels that one would givesomething to hear a human voice again, and to feel a friend's hand-grip. Oh, there are times, Miss Norah, when I talk to myself--which is bad--oryarn to old Turpentine, my snake, just to hear the sound of words again. However, when these bad fits come upon me I know it's a sign that I mustget the axe and go and chop down sufficient trees to make me tired. ThenI go to sleep, and wake up quite a cheerful being once more!"

He hesitated. 

"And there's one thing, " he said slowly--"though it may be lonely here, there is no one to trouble you; no one to treat you badly, to beungrateful or malicious; no bitter enemies, and no false friends, whoare so much worse than enemies. The birds come and hop about me, and Iknow that it is because I like them and have never frightened them; oldTurpentine slides his ugly head over my knees, and I know he doesn'tcare a button whether I have any money in my pocket, or whether I haveto go out into the scrub to find my next meal! And that's far, far morethan you can say of most human beings!"

He looked round on their grave faces, and smiled for the first time. 

"This is uncommonly bad behaviour in a guest, " he said cheerily. "Tocome to lunch, and regale one's host and hostess with a sermon! It's toobad. I ask your forgiveness, young people, and please forget all I saidimmediately. No, Miss Norah, I won't have any damper, thank you--after athree months' course of damper one looks with joy once more on bread. IfWally will favour me--I think the correct phrase is will you 'chuck methe butter?'"--whereat Wally "chucked" as desired, and the mealproceeded merrily. 

CHAPTER VIII. ON A LOG

Lunch over, everyone seemed disinclined for action. The boys lay abouton the grass, sleepily happy. Norah climbed into a tree, where thegnarled boughs made a natural arm-chair, and the Hermit propped hisback against a rock and smoked a short black pipe with an air ofperfect enjoyment. It was just hot enough to make one drowsy. Beesdroned lazily, and from some shady gully the shrill note of a cricketcame faintly to the ear. Only Billy had stolen down to the creek, totempt the fish once more. They heard the dull "plunk" of his sinker ashe flung it into a deep, still pool. 

"Would you like to hear how I lost my boot?" queried the Hermitsuddenly. 

"Oh, please, " said Norah. 

The boys rolled over--that is to say Jim and Wally rolled over. Harrywas fast asleep. 

"Don't wake him, " said the Hermit. But Wally's hat, skilfully thrown, had already caught the slumberer on the side of the head. 

Harry woke up with surprising promptness, and returned the offendinghead-gear with force and directness. Wally caught it deftly and rammedit over his eyes. He smiled underneath it at the Hermit like a happycherub. 

"Now we're ready, sir, " he said. "Hold your row, Harry, the--thisgentleman's going to spin us a yarn. Keep awake if you can spare thetime!"

"I'll spare the time to kick you!" growled the indignant Harry. 

"I don't know that you'll think it's much of a yarn, " the Hermit saidhurriedly, entering the breach to endeavour to allay furtherdiscussion--somewhat to Jim's disappointment. "It's only the story of apretty narrow escape. 

"I had gone out fishing one afternoon about a month ago. It was a grandday for fishing--dull and cloudy. The sun was about somewhere, but youcouldn't see anything of him, although you could feel his warmth. I'dbeen off colour for a few days, and had not been out foraging at all, and as a result, except for damper, my larder was quite empty. 

"I went about a mile upstream. There's a splendid place for fishingthere. The creek widens, and there's a still, deep pool, something likethe pool at the place you call Anglers' Bend, only I think mine isdeeper and stiller, and fishier! At all events, I have never failed toget fish there. 

"I fished from the bank for a while, with not very good luck. At allevents, it occurred to me that I could better it if I went out upon abig log that lay right across the creek--a tremendous tree it must havebeen, judging by the size of the trunk. You could almost ride across it, it's so wide--if you had a circus pony, that is, " added the Hermit witha twinkle. 

"So I gathered up my tackle, hung the fish I'd caught across a bough inthe shade, and went out on the log, and here I had good luck at once. The fish bit just as soon as I put the bait into the water, and though agood many of them were small there were some very decent-sized onesamongst them. I threw the little chaps back, on the principle that--

 Baby fish you throw away Will make good sport another day, and at last began to think I had caught nearly enough, even though Iintended to salt some. However, just as I thought it was time to strikefor camp, I had a tremendous bite. It nearly jerked the rod out of myhands!

"'Hallo!' I said to myself, 'here's a whale!' I played him for a bit, for he was the strongest fish I ever had on a line in this country, andat last he began to tire, and I reeled the line in. It seemed quite along time before I caught a glimpse of his lordship--a tremendous perch. I tell you I felt quite proud as his head came up out of the water. 

"He was nearly up to the log, when he made a sudden, last leap in theair, and the quickness of it and his weight half threw me off mybalance. I made a hurried step on the log, and my right foot slippedinto a huge, gaping crack. It was only after I had made two or threeineffectual struggles to release it that I found I was stuck. 

"Well I didn't realize the seriousness of the position for a fewminutes, " the Hermit went on. "I could understand that I was wedged, butI certainly never dreamed that I could not, by dint of manoeuvring, wriggle my foot out of the crack. So I turned my attention to my bigfish, and--standing in a most uncomfortable position--managed to landhim; and a beauty he was, handsome as paint, with queer markings on hissides. I put him down carefully, and then tried to free myself. 

"And I tried--and tried--and tried--until I was tired out, and stiff andhopeless. By that time it was nearly dark. After I had endeavouredunsuccessfully to get the boot clear, I unlaced it, and tried to get myfoot out of it--but I was in a trifle too far for that, and try as Iwould I could not get it free. The crack was rather on the side of thelog. I could not get a straight pull. Hurt? Yes, of course it hurt--notmore from the pinching of the log, which you may try any time byscrewing your foot up in a vice, than from my own wild efforts to getclear. My foot and ankle were stiff and sore from my exertions longbefore I knocked off in despair. I might have tried to cut the woodaway, had I not left my knife on the bank, where I was fishing first. Idon't know that it would have done much good, anyhow. 

"Well, I looked at the situation--in fact, I had been looking at it allthe time. It wasn't a very cheering prospect, either. The more Ipondered over it, the less chance I saw of getting free. I had done allI could towards that end; now it only remained to wait for something to'turn up. ' And I was quite aware that nothing was in the least likely toturn up, and also that in all probability I would wear out some timebefore the log did. 

"Night came on, and I was as hungry as a hunter--being a hunter, I knewjust how hungry that is. I hadn't anything to eat except raw fish, and Iwasn't quite equal to that yet. I had only one pipe of tobacco too, andyou may be sure I made the most of that, I smoked it very, very slowly, and I wouldn't like to say how long it lasted. 

"From time to time I made fresh attempts to release my foot--allunavailing, and all the more maddening because I could feel that my footwasn't much caught--only just enough to hold it. But enough is as goodas a feast! I felt that if I could get a straight pull at it I might getit out, and several times I nearly went head first into the water, overbalancing myself in the effort to get that straight pull. Thatwasn't a pleasant sensation--not so bad, indeed, if one had got as faras the water. But I pictured myself hanging from the log with adislocated ankle, and the prospect was not inviting. 

"So the night crept on. I grew deadly sleepy, but of course I did notcare to let myself go to sleep; but worse than that was the stiffness, and the cramp that tortured the imprisoned leg. You know how you want tojump when you've got cramp? Well, I wanted to jump at intervals of abouta minute all through that night, and instead, I was more securelyhobbled than any old horse I ever saw. The mosquitoes worried me too. Altogether it was not the sort of entertainment you would select fromchoice!

"And then, just as day began to dawn, the sleepiness got the better ofme. I fought it unavailingly; but at last I knew I could keep awake nolonger, and I shut my eyes. 

"I don't know how long I slept--it couldn't have been for any time, forit was not broad daylight when I opened my eyes again. Besides, thecircumstances weren't the kind to induce calm and peaceful slumber. 

"I woke up with a start, and in my dreams I seemed to hear myself cryingout with pain--for a spasm of cramp had seized me, and it was like ared-hot iron thrust up my leg. I was only half awake--not realizing myposition a bit. I made a sudden spring, and the next moment off I went, headlong!

"I don't suppose, " said the Hermit reflectively, poking a stem of grassdown his pipe, "that I'll ever lose the memory of the sudden, abjectterror of that moment. They say 'as easy as falling off a log, ' and itcertainly doesn't take an able-bodied man long to fall off one, as arule; but it seemed to me that I was hours and years waiting for thejerk to come on my imprisoned foot. I'm sure I lived through half alifetime before it really came. 

"Then it came--and I hardly felt it! There was just a suddenpull--scarcely enough to hurt very much, and the old boot yielded. Solefrom upper, it came clean away, and the pressure on my foot alone wasn'tenough to hold me. It was so unexpected that I didn't realize I was freeuntil I struck the water, and went down right into the mud at the bottomof the creek. 

"That woke me up, I can assure you. I came up choking and spluttering, and blinded with the mud--I wouldn't like to tell you for a moment thatit was pleasant, but I can truthfully say I never was more relieved inmy life. I struck out for the bank, and got out of the water, and thensat down on the grass and wondered why on earth I hadn't made up my mindto jump off that log before. 

"I hadn't any boot left--the remainder had been kicked off as I swamashore. I made my way along the log that had held me so fast all night, and there, wedged as tight as ever in the crack, was my old sole! It'sthere still--unless the mosquitoes have eaten it. I limped home with myfish, cleaned them, had a meal and went to bed--and I didn't get upuntil next day, either!

"And so, Mr. Wally, I venture to think that it was my boot that youlanded this morning, " the Hermit said gravely. "I don't grudge it toyou; I can't say I ever wish to see it again. You"--magnanimously--"mayhave it for your very own!"

"But I chucked it back again!" blurted out Wally, amidst a roar oflaughter from Jim and Harry at his dismayed face. 

"I forgive you!" said the Hermit, joining in the laugh. "I admit it wasa relic which didn't advertise its own fame. "

"I guess you'd never want to see it again, " Jim said. "That was a prettynarrow escape--if your foot had been in just a bit farther you mighthave been hanging from that old log now!"

"That was my own idea all that night, " observed the Hermit; "and thenWally wouldn't have caught any more than the rest of you this morning!And that reminds me, I promised to show you a good fishing-place. Don'tyou think, if you've had enough of my prosy yarning, that we'd bettermake a start?"

The party gathered itself up with alacrity from the grass. Lines werehurriedly examined, and the bait tin, when investigated, proved tocontain an ample supply of succulent grubs and other dainties calculatedto tempt the most fastidious of fish. 

"All ready?" said the Hermit. 

"Hold on a minute, " Jim said. "I'll let Billy know where we're going. "

Billy was found fishing stolidly from a log. Three blackfish testifiedto his skill with the rod, at which Wally whistled disgustedly and Norahlaughed. 

"No good to be jealous of Billy's luck, " she said. "He can always getfish, when nobody else can find even a nibble. Mrs. Brown says he's gotthe light hand like hers for pastry. "

The Hermit laughed. 

"I like Mrs. Brown's simile, " he said. "If that was her pastry in thoseturnovers at lunch, Miss Norah, I certainly agree that she has 'thelight hand. '"

"Mrs. Brown's like the cook in _The Ingoldsby Legends_, Dad says, " Norahremarked. 

"What, " said the Hermit--

"For soups and stews, and French regouts, Nell Cook is famous still--?"finished Norah delightedly. "However did you know, Mr. Hermit?"

The Hermit laughed, but a shade crossed his brow. "I used to read the_Legends_ with a dear old friend many years before you were born, MissNorah, " he said gravely. "I often wonder whether he still reads them. "

"Ready?" Jim interrupted, springing up the bank. "Billy understandsabout feeding the ponies. Don't forget, mind, Billy. "

"Plenty!" quoth Billy, and the party went on its way. The Hermit ledthem rapidly over logs and fallen trees, up and down gullies, andthrough tangles of thickly growing scrub. Once or twice it occurred toJim that they were trusting very confidingly to this man, of whom theyknew absolutely nothing; and a faint shade of uneasiness crossed hismind. He felt responsible, as the eldest of the youngsters, knowing thathis father had placed him in charge, and that he was expected toexercise a certain amount of caution. Still it was hard to fancyanything wrong, looking at the Hermit's serene face, and the trustingway in which Norah's brown little hand was placed in his strong grasp. The other boys were quite unconscious of any uncomfortable ideas, andJim finally dismissed his fears as uncalled for. 

"I thought, " said the Hermit, suddenly turning, "of taking you to see mycamp as we went, but on second thoughts I decided that it would bebetter to get straight to work, as you young people want some fish, Isuppose, to take home. Perhaps we can look in at my camp as we comeback. It's not far from here. "

"Which way do you generally go to the river?" Norah asked. 

"Why, anyway, " the Hermit answered. "Generally in this direction. Why doyou ask, Miss Norah?"

"I was wondering, " Norah said. "We haven't crossed or met a singletrack. "

The Hermit laughed. 

"No, " he said, "I take very good care not to leave tracks if I can avoidit. You see, I'm a solitary fellow, Miss Norah, and prefer, as a rule, to keep to myself. Apart from that, I often leave camp for the greaterpart of the day when I'm fishing or hunting, and I've no wish to pointout the way to my domain to any wanderers. Not that I've much to lose, still there are some things. Picture my harrowed feelings were I toreturn some evening and find my beloved frying-pan gone!"

Norah laughed. 

"It would be awful, " she said. 

"So I planned my camp very cunningly, " continued the Hermit, "and I cantell you it took some planning to contrive it so that it shouldn't betoo easily visible. "

"Well, it isn't from the side I came on it, " Norah put in; "I neverdreamed of anything being there until I was right on the camp. It didsurprise me!"

"And me, " said the Hermit drily. "Well that is how I tried to arrangecamp, and you could be within a dozen yards of it on any side withoutimagining that any was near. "

"But surely you must have made some sort of a track leading away fromit, " said Jim, "unless you fly out!"

The Hermit laughed. 

"I'll show you later how I manage that, " he said. 

The bush grew denser as the little party, led by the Hermit, pushedalong, and Jim was somewhat surprised at the easy certainty with whichtheir guide led the way, since there was no sign of a track. Being asilent youth, he held his tongue on the matter; but Wally was not soreserved. 

"However d'you find your way along here?" he asked. "I don't even knowwhether we're near the creek or not. "

"If we kept still a moment you'd know, " the Hermit said. "Listen!" Heheld up his hand and they all stood still. There came faintly to theirears a musical splash of water. 

"There's a little waterfall just in there, " the Hermit said, "nothingmuch, unless the creek is very low, and then there is a greater drop forthe water. So you see we haven't got far from the creek. How do I knowthe way? Why, I feel it mostly, and if I couldn't feel it, there areplenty of landmarks. Every big tree is as good as a signpost once youknow the way a bit, and I've been along here pretty often, so there'snothing in it, you see, Wally. "

"Do you like the bush, Mr. Hermit?" Norah asked. 

The Hermit hesitated. 

"Sometimes I hate it, I think, Miss Norah, " he said, "when theloneliness of it comes over me, and all the queer sounds of it bother meand keep me awake. Then I realise that I'm really a good way fromanywhere, and I get what are familiarly called the blues. However, that's not at all times, and indeed mostly I love it very much, itsgreat quietness and its beauty; and then it's so companionable, thoughperhaps you're a bit young to understand that. Anyhow, I have my mates, not only old Turpentine, my snake, but others--wallabies that have cometo recognise me as harmless, for I never hunt anywhere near home, thelaughing jackasses, two of them, that come and guffaw to me everymorning, the pheasants that I watch capering and strutting on the logshidden in the scrub. Even the plants become friends; there are creepersnear my camp that I've watched from babyhood, and more than one big treewith which I've at least a nodding acquaintance!"

He broke off suddenly. 

"Look, there's a friend of mine!" he said gently. They were crossing alittle gully, and a few yards on their right a big wallaby sat staringat them, gravely inquisitive. It certainly would not have been humannature if Jim had not longed for a gun; but the wallaby was evidentlyquite ignorant of such a thing, and took them all in with his coolstare. At length Wally sneezed violently, whereat the wallaby started, regarded the disturber of his peace with an alarmed air, and finallybounded off into the scrub. 

"There you go!" said the Hermit good-humouredly, "scaring my poorbeastie out of his wits. "

"Couldn't help it, " mumbled Wally. 

"No, a sneeze will out, like truth, won't it?" the Hermit laughed. "That's how Miss Norah announced herself to me to-day. I might neverhave known she was there if she hadn't obligingly sneezed! I hope. You're not getting colds, children!" the Hermit added, with mockconcern. 

"Not much!" said Wally and Norah in a breath. 

"Just after I came here, " said the Hermit, "I was pretty short oftucker, and it wasn't a good time for fishing, so I was dependent on mygun for most of my provisions. So one day, feeling much annoyed after abreakfast of damper and jam, I took the gun and went off to stock up thelarder. 

"I went a good way without any luck. There didn't seem anything to shootin all the bush, though you may be sure I kept my eyes about me. I wasbeginning to grow disheartened. At length I made my way down to thecreek. Just as I got near it, I heard a whirr-r-r over my head, andlooking up, I saw a flock of wild duck. They seemed to pause a moment, and then dropped downwards. I couldn't see where they alighted, but ofcourse I knew it must be in the creek. 

"Well, I didn't pause, " said the Hermit. "I just made my way down to thecreek as quickly as ever I could, remaining noiseless at the same time. Ducks are easily scared, and I knew my hopes of dinner were poor ifthese chaps saw me too soon. 

"So I sneaked down. Pretty soon I got a glimpse of the creek, which wasvery wide at that point, and fringed with weeds. The ducks were calmlyswimming on its broad surface, a splendid lot of them, and I can assureyou a very tempting sight to a hungry man. 

"However, I didn't waste time in admiration. I couldn't very well risk ashot from where I was, it was a bit too far, and the old gun I hadwasn't very brilliant. So I crept along, crawled down a bank, and foundmyself on a flat that ran to the water's edge, where reeds, growingthickly, screened me from the ducks' sight. 

"That was simple enough. I crawled across this flat, taking no chances, careless of mud, and wet, and sword grass, which isn't the nicest thingto crawl among at any time, as you can imagine; it's absolutelymerciless to face and hands. "

"And jolly awkward to stalk ducks in, " Jim commented, "the rustle wouldgive you away in no time. "

The Hermit nodded. 

"Yes, " he said, "that's its worst drawback, or was, on this occasion. Itcertainly did rustle; however, I crept very slowly, and the ducks werekind enough to think I was the wind stirring in the reeds. At any rate, they went on swimming, and feeding quite peacefully. I got a good lookat them through the fringe of reeds, and then, like a duffer, although Ihad a good enough position, I must try and get a better one. 

"So I crawled a little farther down the bank, trying to reach a knollwhich would give me a fine sight of the game, and at the same time forma convenient rest for my gun. I had almost reached it when the sad thinghappened. A tall, spear-like reed, bending over, gently and intrusivelytickled my nose, and without the slightest warning, and very greatly tomy own amazement, I sneezed violently. 

"If I was amazed, what were the ducks! The sneeze was so unmistakablyhuman, so unspeakably violent. There was one wild whirr of wings, and myducks scrambled off the placid surface of the water like thingspossessed. I threw up my gun and fired wildly; there was no time fordeliberate taking of aim, with the birds already half over the ti-treeat the other side. "

"Did you get any?" Jim asked. 

"One duck, " said the Hermit sadly. "And even for him I had to swim; heobligingly chose a watery grave just to spite me, I believe. He wasn'tmuch of a duck either. After I had stripped and swum for him, dressedagain, prepared the duck, cooked him, and finally sat down to dinner, there was so little of him that he only amounted to half a meal, and wastough at that!"

"So was your luck, " observed Wally. 

"Uncommonly tough, " agreed the Hermit. "However, these things are thefortunes of war, and one has to put up with them, grin, and play thegame. It's surprising how much tougher things look if you once begin togrumble. I've had so much bad luck in the bush that I've really gotquite used to it. "

"How's that?" asked Harry. 

"Why, " said the Hermit, "if it wasn't one thing, it was mostly another. I beg your pardon, Miss Norah, let me help you over this log. I've hadmy tucker stolen again and again, several times by birds, twice byswaggies, and once by a couple of black fellows pilgrimaging through thebush I don't know whither. They happened on my camp, and helpedthemselves; I reckoned myself very lucky that they only took food, though I've no doubt they would have taken more if I hadn't arrived onthe scene in the nick of time and scared them almost out of their wits. "

"How did you do that?" asked Norah; "tell us about it, Mr. Hermit!"

The Hermit smiled down at Norah's eager face. 

"Oh, that's hardly a yarn, Miss Norah, " he said, his eyes twinkling in away that made them look astonishingly young, despite his white hair andhis wrinkles. "That was only a small happening, though it capped a dayof bad luck. I had been busy in camp all the morning cooking, and hadlaid in quite a supply of tucker, for me. I'd cooked some wild duck, androasted a hare, boiled a most splendid plum-duff and finally baked a bigdamper, and I can tell you I was patting myself on the back because Ineed not do any more cooking for nearly a week, unless it were fish--I'mnot a cook by nature, and pretty often go hungry rather than prepare ameal. 

"After dinner I thought I'd go down to the creek and try my luck--it wasa perfect day for fishing, still and grey. So I dug some worms--andbroke my spade in doing so--and started off. 

"The promise of the day held good. I went to my favourite spot, and thefish just rushed me--the worms must have been very tempting, or else thefish larder was scantily supplied. At any rate, they bit splendidly, andsoon I grew fastidious, and was picking out and throwing back any thatweren't quite large enough. I fished from the old log over the creek, and soon had a pile of fish, and grew tired of the sport. I was sleepy, too, through hanging over the fire all the morning. I kept on fishingmechanically, but it was little more than holding my bait in the water, and I began nodding and dozing, leaning back on the broad old log. 

"I didn't think I had really gone to sleep, though I suppose I must havedone so, because I dreamed a kind of half-waking dream. In it I saw asnake that crept and crept nearer and nearer to me until I could see itswicked eyes gleaming, and though I tried to get away, I could not. Itcame on and on until it was quite near, and I was feeling highlyuncomfortable in my dream. At last I made a great effort, flung out myhand towards a stick, and, with a yell, woke up, to realise that I hadstruck something cold, and clammy, and wet. What it was I couldn't becertain for an instant, until I heard a dull splash, and then I knew. Ihad swept my whole string of fish into the water below!

"Oh, yes, I said things--who wouldn't? I was too disgusted to fish anymore, and the nightmare having thoroughly roused me, I gathered up mytackle and made tracks for home, feeling considerably annoyed withmyself. 

"You must know I've a private entrance into my camp. It's a track no onewould suspect of being a track, and by its aid I can approachnoiselessly. I've got into a habit of always sneaking back to camp--justin case anyone should be there. This afternoon I came along quietly, more from force of habit than from any real idea of looking out forintruders. But half-way along it a sound pulled me up suddenly. It wasthe sound of a voice. 

"When you haven't heard anyone speak for a good many months, the humanvoice has quite a startling effect upon you--or even the human sneeze, Miss Norah!" added the Hermit, with a twinkle. "I stopped short andlistened with all my might. Presently the voice came again, low andguttural, and I knew it for a native's. 

"The conviction didn't fill me with joy, as you may imagine. I stoleforward, until by peeping through the bushes I gained a view of thecamp--and was rewarded with the spectacle of two blacks--ill-favouredbrutes they were, too--quite at home, one in the act of stuffing mycherished roast hare into a dirty bag, the other just taking a huge biteout of my damper!

"The sight, as you may imagine, didn't fill me with joy. From the bulgesin my black visitors' bag I gathered that the ducks had preceded thehare; and even as I looked, the gentleman with the damper relaxed hiswell-meant efforts, and thrust it, too, into the bag. Then they put downthe bag and dived into the tent, and I heard rustlings and low-tonedremarks that breathed satisfaction. I reckoned it was time to step in. 

"Luckily, my gun was outside the tent--indeed I never leave it inside, but have a special hiding-place for it under a handy log, for fear ofstray marauders overhauling my possessions. A gun is a pretty temptingthing to most men, and since my duck-shooting failure I had treatedmyself to a new double-barrel--a beauty. 

"I crept to the log, drew out both guns, and then retired to thebushes--a little uncertain, to tell the truth, what to do, for I hadn'tany particular wish to murder my dusky callers; and at the same time, had to remember that they were two to one, and would be unhampered byany feeling of chivalry, if we did come to blows. I made up my mind totry to scare them--and suddenly I raised the most horrible, terrifying, unearthly yell I could think of, and at the same time fired both barrelsof one gun quickly in the air!

"The effect was instantaneous. There was one howl of horror, and theblack fellows darted out of the tent! They almost cannoned into me--andyou know I must look a rum chap in these furry clothes and cap, with mygrandfatherly white beard! At all events, they seemed to think me so, for at sight of me they both yelled in terror, and bolted away as fastas their legs could carry them. I cheered the parting guests by howlingstill more heartily, and firing my two remaining barrels over theirheads as they ran. They went as swiftly as a motor-car disappears fromview--I believe they reckoned they'd seen the bunyip. I haven't seen atrace of them since. 

"They'd had a fine time inside the tent. Everything I possessed had beeninvestigated, and one or two books badly torn--the wretches!" said theHermit ruefully. "My clothes (I've a few garments beside these beauties, Miss Norah) had been pulled about, my few papers scattered wildly, andeven my bunk stripped of blankets, which lay rolled up ready to becarried away. There wasn't a single one of my poor possessions that hadescaped notice, except, of course, my watch and money, which I keepcarefully buried. The tent was a remarkable spectacle, and so close andreminiscent of black fellow that my first act was to undo the sides andlet the fresh air play through. I counted myself very lucky to get offas lightly as I did--had I returned an hour later none of my goods andchattels would have been left. "

"What about the tucker?" Harry asked; "did they get away with the bagthey'd stowed it in?"

"Not they!" said the Hermit; "they were far too scared to think of bagsor tucker. They almost fell over it in their efforts to escape, butneither of them thought of picking it up. It was hard luck for them, after they'd packed it so carefully. "

"Is that how you looked at it?" Jim asked, laughing. 

"Well--I tried to, " said the Hermit, laughing in his turn. "Sometimes itwas pretty hard work--and I'll admit that for the first few days my ownmisfortunes were uppermost. "

"But you didn't lose your tucker after all, you said?" queried Wally. "Ithought they left the bag?"

"They did, " the Hermit admitted. "But have you ever explored theinterior of a black fellow's bag, Master Wally? No? Well, if you had, you would understand that I felt no further hankerings over thosemasterpieces of the cook's art. I'm not extra particular, I believe, butI couldn't tackle them--no thanks! I threw them into the scrub--and thenwashed my hands!"

"Poor you!" said Norah. 

"Oh, I wasn't so badly off, " said the Hermit. "They'd left me theplum-duff, which was hanging in its billy from a bough. Lots of duff--Ihad it morning, noon and night, until I found something fresh tocook--and I haven't made duff since. And here we are at the creek!"

CHAPTER IX. FISHING

The party had for some time been walking near the creek, so close to itthat it was within sound, although they seldom got a glimpse of water, save where the ti-tree scrub on the bank grew thinner or the light windstirred an opening in its branches. Now, however, the Hermit suddenlyturned, and although the others failed to perceive any track orlandmark, he led them quickly through the scrub belt to the bank of thecreek beyond. 

It was indeed an ideal place for fishing. A deep, quiet pool, partlyshaded by big trees, lay placid and motionless, except for an occasionalripple, stirred by a light puff of wind. An old wattle tree grew on thebank, its limbs jutting out conveniently, and here Jim and Wallyensconced themselves immediately, and turned their united attention tobusiness. For a time no sound was heard save the dull "plunk" of sinkersas the lines, one by one, were flung into the water. 

The Hermit did not fish. He had plenty at his camp, he said, and fishingfor fun had lost its excitement, since he fished for a living most daysof the week. So he contented himself with advising the others where tothrow in, and finally sat down on the grass near Norah. 

A few minutes passed. Then Jim jerked his line hurriedly and began topull in with a feverish expression. It lasted until a big black fishmade its appearance, dangling from the hook, and then it was suddenlysucceeded by a look of intense disgust, as a final wriggle released theprisoner, which fell back with a splash into the water. 

"Well, I'm blessed!" said Jim wrathfully. 

"Hard luck!" said Harry. 

"Try again, Jimmy, and stick to him this time, " counselled Wally, in afatherly tone. 

"Oh, you shut up, " Jim answered, re-baiting his hook. "I didn't catch anold boot, anyhow!"--which pertinent reflection had the effect ofsilencing Wally, amidst mild mirth on the part of the other members ofthe expedition. 

Scarcely a minute more, and Norah pulled sharply at her line and beganto haul in rapidly. 

"Got a whale?" inquired Jim. 

"Something like it!" Norah pulled wildly. 

"Hang on!"

"Stick to him!"

"Mind your eye!"

"Don't get your line tangled!"

"Want any help, Miss Norah?"

"No thanks. " Norah was almost breathless. A red spot flamed in eachcheek. 

Slowly the line came in. Presently it gave a sudden jerk, and was tuggedback quickly, as the fish made another run for liberty. Norah uttered anexclamation, quickly suppressed, and caught it sharply, pullingstrongly. 

Ah--he was out! A big, handsome perch, struggling and dancing in the airat the end of the line. Shouts broke from the boys as Norah landed herprize safely on the bank. 

"Well done, Miss Norah, " said the Hermit warmly. 

"That's a beauty--as fine a perch as I've seen in this creek. "

"Oh, isn't he a splendid fellow!" Norah cried, surveying the prey withdancing eyes. "I'll have him for Dad, anyhow, even if I don't catchanother. "

"Yes, Dad's breakfast's all right, " laughed the Hermit. "But don'tworry, you'll catch more yet. See, there goes Harry. "

There was a shout as Harry, with a scientific flourish of his rod, hauled a small blackfish from its watery bed. 

"Not bad for a beginning!" he said, grinning. "But not a patch on yours, Norah!"

"Oh, I had luck, " Norah said. "He really is a beauty, isn't he? I thinkhe must be the grandfather of all the perches. "

"If that's so, " said Jim, beginning to pull in, with an expression of"do or die" earnestness, "I reckon I've got the grandmother on now!"

A storm of advice hurtled about Jim as he tugged at his line. 

"Hurry up, Jim!"

"Go slow!"

"There--he's getting off again!"

"So are you!" said the ungrateful recipient of the counsel, puffinghard. 

"Only a boot, Jim--don't worry!"

"Gammon!--it's a shark!--look at his worried expression!"

"I'll 'shark' you, young Harry!" grunted Jim. "Mind your eye--there hecomes!" And expressions of admiration broke from the scoffers as asecond splendid perch dangled in the air and was landed high and dry--orcomparatively so--in the branches of the wattle tree. 

"Is he as big as yours, Norah?" queried Jim a minute later, tossing hisfish down on the grass close to his sister and the Hermit. 

Norah laid the two fishes alongside. 

"Not quite, " she announced; "mine's about an inch longer, and a bitfatter. "

"Well, that's all right, " Jim said. "I said it was the grandmother Ihad--yours is certainly the grandfather! I'm glad you got the biggest, old girl. " They exchanged a friendly smile. 

A yell from Wally intimated that he had something on his hook, and withimmense pride he flourished in the air a diminutive blackfish--so smallthat the Hermit proposed to use it for bait, a suggestion promptlydeclined by the captor, who hid his catch securely in the fork of twobranches, before re-baiting his hook. Then Harry pulled out a fineperch, and immediately afterwards Norah caught a blackfish; and afterthat the fun waxed fast and furious, the fish biting splendidly, and allhands being kept busy. An hour later Harry shook the last worm out ofthe bait tin and dropped it into the water on his hook, where itimmediately was seized by a perch of very tender years. 

"Get back and grow till next year, " advised Harry, detaching the littleprisoner carefully, the hook having caught lightly in the side of itsmouth. "I'll come for you next holidays!" and he tossed the tiny fellowback into the water. "That's our last scrap of bait, you chaps, " hesaid, beginning to wind up his line. 

"I've been fishing with an empty hook for I don't know how long, " saidJim, hauling up also. "These beggars have nibbled my bait off andcarefully dodged the hook. "

"Well, we've plenty, haven't we?" Norah said. "Just look what a splendidpile of fish!"

"They take a bit of beating, don't they?" said Jim. "That's right, Wal, pull him up!" as Wally hauled in another fine fish. "We couldn't carrymore if we had 'em. "

"Then it's a good thing my bait's gone, too!" laughed Norah, winding up. "Haven't we had a most lovely time!"

Jim produced a roll of canvas which turned out to be two sugar bags, andin these carefully bestowed the fish, sousing the whole thoroughly inthe water. The boys gathered up the lines and tackle and "planted" therods conveniently behind a log, "to be ready for next time, " they said. 

"Well, we've had splendid sport, thanks to you, sir, " Jim said, turningto the Hermit, who stood looking on at the preparations, a benevolentperson, "something between Father Christmas and Robinson Crusoe, " asNorah whispered to Harry. "We certainly wouldn't have got on half aswell if we'd stayed where we were. "

"Oh, I don't know, " the Hermit answered. "Yours is a good place--I'veoften caught plenty of fish there--only not to be relied on as this poolis. I've really never known this particular spot fail--the fish seem tolive in it all the year round. However, I'm glad you've had decentluck--it's not a bit jolly to go home empty-handed, I know. And now, what's the next thing to be done? The afternoon's getting on--don't youthink it's time you came to pay me a visit at the camp?"

"Oh, yes, please!" Norah cried. 

Jim hesitated. 

"We'd like awfully to see your camp, if--if it's not any bother to you, "he said. 

"Not the least in the world, " the Hermit said. "Only I can't offer youany refreshment. I've nothing but cold 'possum and tea, and the'possum's an acquired taste, I'm afraid. I've no milk for the tea, andno damper, either!"

"By George!" said Jim remorsefully. "Why, we ate all your damper atlunch!"

"I can easily manufacture another, " the Hermit said, laughing. "I'mused to the process. Only I don't suppose I could get it done soonenough for afternoon tea. "

"We've loads of tucker, " Jim said. "Far more than we're likely to eat. Milk, too. We meant to boil the billy again before we start for home. "

"I'll tell you what, " Norah said, struck by a brilliant idea. "Let'scoo-ee for Billy, and when he comes send him back for our things. Thenif--if Mr. Hermit likes, we could have tea at his camp. "

"Why, that's a splendid notion, " the Hermit cried. "I'm delighted thatyou thought of it, Miss Norah, although I'm sorry my guests have tosupply their own meal! It doesn't seem quite the thing--but in the bush, polite customs have to fall into disuse. I only keep up my own goodmanners by practising on old Turpentine, my snake! However, if you're sokind as to overlook my deficiencies, and make them up yourselves, by allmeans let us come along and coo-ee for sweet William!"

He shouldered one of the bags of fish as he spoke, disregarding aprotest from the boys. Jim took the second, and they set out for thecamp. 

Their way led for some time along the track by which they had come, if"track" it might be called. Certainly, the Hermit trod it confidentlyenough, but the others could only follow in his wake, and wonder by whatprocess he found his way so quickly through the thick bush. 

About half a mile along the creek the Hermit suddenly turned off almostat right angles, and struck into the scrub. The children followed himclosely, keeping as nearly at his heels as the nature of the path wouldpermit. 

Norah found it not very pleasant. The Hermit went at a good rate, swinging over the rough ground with the sure-footed case of oneaccustomed to the scrub and familiar with the path. The boys unhamperedby skirts and long hair, found no great difficulty in keeping up withhim, but the small maiden of the party, handicapped by her clothes, tosay nothing of being youngest of them all, plodded along in the rear, catching on sarsaparilla vines and raspberry tangles, plunging headfirst through masses of dogwood, and getting decidedly the worst of thejourney. 

Harry was the first to notice that Norah was falling "into thedistance, " as he put it, and he ran back to her immediately. 

"Poor old kid!" he said shamefacedly. "I'd no idea you were having sucha beast of a time. Sorry, Norah!" His polite regrets were cut short byNorah's catching her foot in a creeper and falling bodily upon him. 

"Thank you, " said Harry, catching her deftly. "Delighted, I'm sure, ma'am! It's a privilege to catch any one like you. Come on, old girl, and I'll clear the track for you. "

A little farther on the Hermit had halted, looking a trifle guilty. 

"I'm really sorry, Miss Norah, " he said, as Norah and Harry made theirway up to the waiting group. "I didn't realise I was going at such apace. We'll make haste more slowly. "

He led the way, pausing now and again to make it easier for the littlegirl, holding the bushes aside and lifting her bodily over several biglogs and sharp watercourses. Finally he stopped. 

"I think if you give Billy a call now, Jim, " he said, "he won't havemuch difficulty in finding us. "

To the children it seemed an utter impossibility that Billy should everfind them, though they said nothing, and Jim obediently lifted up hisvoice and coo-ee'd in answer to the Hermit's words. For himself, Jim wasfree to confess he had quite lost his bearings, and the other boys wereas much at sea as if they had suddenly been dropped down at the NorthPole. Norah alone had an idea that they were not far from their originalcamping-place; an idea which was confirmed when a long "Ai-i-i!" came inresponse to Jim's shout, sounding startlingly near at hand. 

"Master Billy has been making his way along the creek, " commented theHermit. "He's no distance off. Give him another call. "

"Here!" Jim shouted. Billy answered again, and after a few moreexchanges, the bushes parted and revealed the sable retainer, somewhatout of breath. 

"Scoot back to camp, Billy, " Jim ordered. "Take these fish and soak 'emin the creek, and bring back all our tucker--milk and all. Bringit--Where'll he bring it, sir?" to the Hermit. 

"See that tall tree, broken with the bough dangling?" the Hermit asked, pointing some distance ahead. Billy nodded. "Come back to that andcooee, and we'll answer you. "

"Plenty!" said Billy, shouldering the bags of fish, and departing at arun. Billy had learnt early the futility of wasting words. 

"Come along, " said the Hermit, laughing. 

He turned off into the scrub, and led the way again, taking, it seemedto Norah, rather a roundabout path. At length he stopped short, near adense clump of dogwood. 

"My back door, " he said politely. 

They stared about them. There was no sign of any door at all, nor evenof any footprints or marks of traffic. The scrub was all about them;everything was very still and quiet in the afternoon hush. 

"Well, you've got us beaten and no mistake!" Jim laughed, after they hadpeered fruitlessly about. "Unless you camp in the air, I don't see--"

"Look here, " said the Hermit. 

He drew aside a clump of dogwood, and revealed the end of an old log--ahuge tree-trunk that had long ago been a forest monarch, but havingfallen, now stretched its mighty length more than a hundred feet alongthe ground. It was very broad and the uppermost side was flat, and hereand there bore traces of caked, dry mud that showed where a boot hadrested. The dogwood walled it closely on each side. 

"That's my track home, " the Hermit said. "Let me help you up, MissNorah. "

He sprang up on the log as he spoke, and extended a hand to Norah, whofollowed him lightly. Then the Hermit led the way along the log, whichwas quite broad enough to admit of a wheelbarrow being drawn down itslength. He stopped where the butt of the old tree, rising above thelevel of the trunk, barred the view, and pulling aside the dogwood, showed rough steps, cut in the side of the log. 

"Down here, Miss Norah. "

In a moment they were all on the ground beside him--Wally, disdainingthe steps, having sprung down, and unexpectedly measured his length onthe earth, to the accompaniment of much chaff. He picked himself up, laughing more than any of them, just as Norah popped her head throughthe scrub that surrounded them, and exclaimed delightedly--. 

"Why, here's the camp. "

"I say, " Jim said, following the Hermit into the little clearing, "you're well planted here!"

The space was not very large--a roughly circular piece of ground, ringedround with scrub, in which big gum trees reared their lofty heads. Awattle tree stood in the centre, from its boughs dangling a roughhammock, made of sacking, while a water bag hung from another convenientbranch. The Hermit's little tent was pitched at one side; across theclearing was the rude fireplace that Norah had seen in the morning. Everything, though tough enough, was very clean and tidy, with a certainattempt at comfort. 

The Hermit laughed. 

"Yes, I'm pretty well concealed, " he agreed. "You might be quite closeto the camp and never dream that it existed. Only bold explorers likeMiss Norah would have hit upon it from the side where she appeared to methis morning, and my big log saves me the necessity of having a beatentrack home. I try, by getting on it at different points, to avoid atrack to the log, although, should a footmark lead anyone to it, theintruder would never take the trouble to walk down an old bushhungtree-trunk, apparently for no reason. So that I feel fairly secure aboutmy home and my belongings when I plan a fishing expedition or anexcursion that takes me any distance away. "

"Well, it's a great idea, " Jim said. "Of course, a beaten track to yourcamp would be nothing more or less than an invitation to any swaggie orblack fellow to follow it up. "

"That's what I thought, " the Hermit said; "and very awkward it wouldhave been for me, seeing that one can't very well put a padlock on atent, and that all my belongings are portable. Not that there's anythingof great value. I have a few papers I wouldn't care to lose, a watch anda little money--but they're all safely buried in a cashbox with a goodlock. The rest I have to chance, and, as I told you, I've so far beenpretty lucky in repelling invaders. There's not much traffic round here, you know!"

Jim and Norah laughed. "Not much, " they said, nodding. 

"My tent's not large, " the Hermit said, leading the way to thaterection, which was securely and snugly pitched with its back door (hadthere been one) against the trunk of a huge dead tree. It was acomparatively new tent, with a good fly, and was watertight, its ownerexplained, in all weathers. The flap was elaborately secured by manystrings, tied with wonderful and fearful knots. 

"It must take you a long time to untie those chaps every day, " saidWally. 

"It would, " said the Hermit, "if I did untie them. They're only part ofmy poor little scheme for discouraging intruders, Master Wally. " Heslipped his fingers inside the flap and undid a hidden fastening, whichopened the tent without disarranging the array of intricate knots. 

"A fellow without a knife might spend quite a while in untying allthose, " said the Hermit. "He'd be rather disgusted, on completing thejob, to find they had no bearing on the real fastening of the tent. Andperhaps by that time I might be home!"

The interior of the tent was scrupulously tidy and very plain. A hastilyput up bunk was covered with blue blankets, and boasted a sackingpillow. From the ridge-pole hung a candlestick, roughly fashioned from aknot of wood, and the furniture was completed by a rustic table andchair, made from branches, and showing considerable ingenuity in theirfashioning. Wallaby skins thrown over the chair and upon the floor lenta look of comfort to the tiny dwelling; and a further touch ofhomeliness was given by many pictures cut from illustrated papers andfastened to the canvas walls. The fly of the tent projected somedistance in front, and formed a kind of verandah, beneath which a secondrustic seat stood, as well as a block of wood that bore a tin dish, andevidently did duty as a washstand. Several blackened billies hung aboutthe camp, with a frying-pan that bore marks of long and honourable use. 

The children surveyed this unusual home with much curiosity andinterest, and the boys were loud in their praises of the chairs andtables. The Hermit listened to their outspoken comments with abenevolent look, evidently pleased with their approval, and soon Jim andhe were deep in a discussion of bush carpentry--Jim, as Wally said, reckoning himself something of an artist in that line, and being eagerfor hints. Meanwhile the other boys and Norah wandered about the camp, wondering at the completeness that had been arrived at with so littlematerial, and at its utter loneliness and isolation. 

"A man might die here half a dozen times, and no one be any the wiser, "Wally said. "I wouldn't like it myself. "

"Once would be enough for most chaps. " Harry grinned. 

"Oh, get out! you know what I mean, " retorted Wally. "You chaps arenever satisfied unless you're pulling my leg--it's a wonder I don'tlimp! But seriously, what a jolly rum life for a man to choose. "

"He's an educated chap, too, " Harry said--"talks like a book when helikes. I wonder what on earth he's doing it for?"

They had dropped their voices instinctively, and had moved away from thetent. 

"He's certainly not the ordinary swaggie, " Norah said slowly. 

"Not by a good bit, " Wally agreed. "Why, he can talk like our Englishmaster at school! Perhaps he's hiding. "

"Might be, " Harry said. "You never can tell--he's certainly keen enoughon getting away from people. "

"He's chosen a good place, then. "

"Couldn't be better. I wonder if there's anything in it--if he reallyhas done anything and doesn't want to be found?"

"I never heard such bosh!" said Norah indignantly. "One would think hereally looked wicked, instead of being such a kind old chap. D'you thinkhe's gone and committed a murder, or robbed a bank, or something likethat? I wonder you're not afraid to be in his camp!"

The boys stared in amazement. 

"Whew-w-w!" whistled Wally. 

Harry flushed a little. 

"Oh steady, Norah!" he protested--"we really didn't mean to hurt yourfeelings. It was only an idea. I'll admit be doesn't look a hardenedsinner. "

"Well, you shouldn't have such ideas, " Norah said stoutly; "he's a greatdeal too nice, and look how kind he's been to us! If he chooses to planthimself in the bush, it's no one's business but his own. "

"I suppose not, " Harry began. He pulled up shortly as the Hermit, followed by Jim, emerged from the tent. 

The Hermit had a queer smile in his eyes, but Jim looked desperatelyuncomfortable. 

Jim favoured the others with a heavy scowl as he came out of the tent, slipping behind the Hermit in order that he might deliver it unobserved. It was plain enough to fill them with considerable discomfort. Theyexchanged glances of bewilderment. 

"I wonder what's up now?" Wally whispered. 

Jim strolled over to them as the Hermit, without saying anything, crossed to his fireplace, and began to put some sticks together. 

"You're bright objects!" he whispered wrathfully. "Why can't you speaksoftly if you must go gabbling about other people?"

"You don't mean to say he heard us?" Harry said, colouring. 

"I do, then! We could hear every word you said, and it was jolly awkwardfor me. I didn't know which way to look. "

"Was he wild?" whispered Wally. 

"Blessed if I know. He just laughed in a queer way, until Norah stuck upfor him, and then he looked grave. 'I'm lucky to have one friend, ' hesaid, and walked out of the tent. You're a set of goats!" finished Jimcomprehensively. 

"Well, I'm not ashamed of what I said, anyhow!" Norah answeredindignantly. She elevated her tip-tilted nose, and walked away to wherethe Hermit was gathering sticks, into which occupation she promptlyentered. The boys looked at each other. 

"Well, I am--rather, " Harry said. He disappeared into the scrub, returning presently with a log of wood as heavy as he could drag. Wally, seeing his idea, speedily followed suit, and Jim, after a stare, copiedtheir example. They worked so hard that by the time the Hermit and Norahhad the fire alight, quite a respectable stack of wood greeted the eyeof the master of the camp. He looked genuinely pleased. 

"Well, you are kind chaps, " he said. "That will save me wood-carting formany a day, and it is a job that bothers my old back. "

"We're very glad to get it for you, sir, " Jim blurted, a trifleshamefacedly. A twinkle came into the Hermit's eyes as he looked at him. 

"That's all square, Jim, " he said quietly, and without any more beingsaid the boys felt relieved. Evidently this Hermit was not a man to bearmalice, even if he did overhear talk that wasn't meant for him. 

"Well, " said the Hermit, breaking a somewhat awkward silence, "it'sabout time we heard the dusky Billy, isn't it?"

"Quite time, I reckon, " Jim replied. "Lazy young beggar!"

"Well, the billy's not boiling yet, although it's not far off it. "

"There he is, " Norah said quickly, as a long shout sounded near at hand. The Hermit quickly went off in its direction, and presently returned, followed by Billy, whose eyes were round as he glanced about the strangeplace in which he found himself, although otherwise no sign of surpriseappeared on his sable countenance. He carried the bags containing thepicnic expedition's supply of food, which Norah promptly fell tounpacking. An ample supply remained from lunch, and when displayed toadvantage on the short grass of the clearing the meal looked verytempting. The Hermit's eyes glistened as Norah unpacked a bag of applesand oranges as a finishing touch. 

"Fruit!" he said. "Oh, you lucky people! I wish there were fruit shopsin the scrub. I can dispense with all the others, but one does missfruit. "

"Well, I'm glad we brought such a bagful, because I'm sure we don't wantit, " Norah said. "You must let us leave it with you, Mr. Hermit. "

"Water's plenty boilin', " said Billy

Tea was quickly brewed, and presently they were seated on the ground andmaking a hearty meal, as if the lunch of a few hours ago had never been. 

"If a fellow can't get hungry in the bush, " said Wally, holding out hishand for his fifth scone, "then he doesn't deserve ever to get hungry atall!" To which Jim replied, "Don't worry, old man--that's a fate that'snever likely to overtake you!" Wally, whose hunger was of a generallyprevailing kind, which usually afflicted him most in school hours, subsided meekly into his tea-cup. 

They did not hurry over the meal, for everyone was a little lazy afterthe long day, and there was plenty of time to get home--the long summerevening was before them, and it would merge into the beauty of amoonlit night. So they "loafed" and chatted aimlessly, and drank hugequantities of the billy-tea, that is quite the nicest tea in the world, especially when it is stirred with a stick. And when they were reallyashamed to eat any more they lay about on the grass, yarning, tellingbush tales many and strange, and listening while the Hermit spun themold-world stories that made the time slip away wonderfully. It was witha sigh that Jim roused himself at last. 

"Well, " he said, "it's awfully nice being here, and I'm not in a bit ofa hurry to go--are you, chaps?"

The chaps chorused "No. "

"All the same, it's getting late, " Jim went on, pulling out hiswatch--"later than I thought, my word! Come on--we'll have to hurry. Billy, you slip along and saddle up the ponies one-time quick!"

Billy departed noiselessly. 

"He never said 'Plenty!'" said Wally disappointedly, gathering himselfup from the grass. 

"It was an oversight, " Jim laughed. "Now then, Norah, come along. Whatabout the miserable remains?"

"The remains aren't so miserable, " said Norah, who was on her kneesgathering up the fragments of the feast. "See, there's a lot of breadyet, ever so many scones, heaps of cake, and the fruit, to say nothingof butter and jam. " She looked up shyly at the Hermit. "Would you--wouldyou mind having them?"

The Hermit laughed. 

"Not a bit!" he said. "I'm not proud, and it is really a treat to seecivilized food again. I'll willingly act as your scavenger, Miss Norah. "

Together they packed up the remnants, and the Hermit deposited theminside his tent. He rummaged for a minute in a bag near his bed, andpresently came out with something in his hand. 

"I amuse myself in my many odd moments by this sort of thing, " he said. "Will you have it, Miss Norah?"

He put a photograph frame into her hand--a dainty thing, made from thenative woods, cunningly jointed together and beautifully carved. Norahaccepted it with pleasure. 

"It's not anything, " the Hermit disclaimed--"very rough, I'm afraid. Butyou can't do very good work when your pocket-knife is your only tool. Ihope you'll forgive its shortcomings, Miss Norah, and keep it toremember the old Hermit. "

"I think it's lovely, " Norah said, looking up with shining eyes, "andI'm ever so much obliged. I'll always keep it. "

"Don't forget, " the Hermit said, looking down at the flushed face. "Andsome day, perhaps, you'll all come again. "

"We must hurry, " Jim said. 

They were all back at the lunching-place, and the sight of the sun, sinking far across the plain, recalled Jim to a sense of half-forgottenresponsibility. 

"It's every man for his own steed, " he said. "Can you manage your oldcrock, Norah?"

"Don't you wish yours was half as good?" queried Norah, as she took thehalter off Bobs and slipped the bit into his mouth. 

Jim grinned. 

"Knew I'd got her on a soft spot!" he murmured, wrestling with arefractory crupper. 

Harry and Wally were already at their ponies. Billy, having fixed theload to his satisfaction on the pack mare, was standing on one foot on alog jutting over the creek, drawing the fish from their coolresting-place in the water. The bag came up, heavy and dripping--soheavy, indeed, that it proved the last straw for Billy's balance, and, after a wild struggle to remain on the log, he was forced to step offwith great decision into the water, a movement accompanied with adecisive "Bust!" amidst wild mirth on the part of the boys. Luckily, thewater was not knee deep, and the black retainer regained the log, notmuch the worse, except in temper. 

"Damp in there, Billy?" queried Wally, with a grave face. 

"Plenty!" growled Billy, marching off the log with offended dignity anda dripping leg. 

The Hermit had taken Norah's saddle and placed it on Bobs, girthing itup with the quick movements of a practised hand. Norah watched himkeenly, and satisfaction crept into her eyes, as, the job done, the oldman stroked the pony's glossy neck, and Bobs, scenting a friend, put hisnose into his hand. 

"He likes you, " Norah said; "he doesn't do that to everyone. Do you likehorses?"

"Better than men, " said the Hermit. "You've a good pony, Miss Norah. "

"Yes, he's a beauty, " the little girl said. "I've had him since he was afoal. "

"He'll carry you home well. Fifteen miles, is it?"

"About that, I think. "

"And we'll find Dad hanging over the home paddock gate, wondering wherewe are, " said Jim, coming up, leading his pony. "We'll have to saygood-night, sir. "

"Good-night, and good-bye, " said the Hermit, holding out his hand. "I'msorry you've all got to go. Perhaps some other holidays--?"

"We'll come out, " nodded Jim. He shook hands warmly. "And if ever youfind your way in as far as our place--"

"I'm afraid not, " said the Hermit hastily. "As I was explaining to MissNorah, I'm a solitary animal. But I hope to see you all again. "

The boys said "good-bye" and mounted. The Hermit held Bobs while Norahswung herself up--the pony was impatient to be gone. 

"Good-bye, " he said. 

Norah looked at him pitifully. 

"I won't say good-bye, " she said. "I'm coming back--some day. Soit's--'so long!'"

"So long, " the old man echoed, rather drearily, holding her hand. Thensomething queer came into his eyes, for suddenly Norah bent from thesaddle and kissed his cheek. 

He stood long, watching the ponies and the little young figuresscurrying across the plain. When they vanished he turned wearily and, with slow steps, went back into the scrub. 

* * * * *

They forded the creek carefully, for the water was high, and it was darkin the shadows of the trees on the banks. Jim knew the way well, and sodid Norah, and they led, followed by the other boys. When they hadcrossed, it was necessary to go steadily in the dim light. The track wasonly wide enough for them to ride in Indian file, which is not a methodof locomotion which assists conversation, and they rode almost insilence. 

It was queer, down there in the bush, with only cries of far-off birdsto break the quiet. Owls and mopokes hooted dismally, and once a greatflapping thing flew into Harry's face, and he uttered a startled yellbefore he realised that it was only one of the night birds--whereatmirth ensued at the expense of Harry. Then to scare away the hootersthey put silence to flight with choruses, and the old bush echoed to"Way Down Upon the Swanee River" and more modern songs, which aren'thalf so sweet as the old Christy Minstrel ditties. After they hadexhausted all the choruses they knew, Harry "obliged" with one ofGordon's poems, recited with such boyish simplicity combined with vigourthat it quite brought down the audience, who applauded so loudly thatthe orator was thankful for the darkness to conceal his blushes. 

"Old Harry's our champion elocutioner at school, you know, " Wally said. "You should have heard him last Speech Day! He got more clapping thanall the rest put together. "

"Shut up, young Wally!" growled Harry in tones of affected wrath. 

"Same to you, " said Wally cheerfully. "Why, you had all the mammashowling into their hankies in your encore piece!"

After which nothing would satisfy Norah but another recitation, andanother after that; and then the timber ended, and there was only thelevel plain be tween them and home, with the moon just high enough tomake it sufficiently light for a gallop. They tore wildly homeward, andlanded in a slightly dishevelled bunch at the gate of the paddock. 

No one was about the stables. 

"Men all gone off somewhere, " said Jim laconically, proceeding to lethis pony go. His example was followed by each of the others, the steedsdismissed with a rub and a pat, and the saddles placed on the stands. 

"Well, I don't know about you chaps, " said Jim, "but I'm as hungry as ahunter!"

"Same here, " chorused the chaps. 

"Come along and see what good old Brownie's put by for us, " said Norah, disappearing towards the house like a small comet. 

The boys raced after her. In the kitchen doorway Mrs. Brown stood, herbroad face resplendent with smiles. 

"I was just beginning to wonder if any of you had fallen into thecreek, " she said. "You must be hungry, poor dears. Supper's ready. "

"Where's Dad?" asked Norah. 

"Your Pa's gone to Sydney. "

"Sydney!"

"Yes, my dears. A tallygrum came for him--something about some valuablecattle to be sold, as he wants. "

"Oh, " said Jim, "those shorthorns he was talking about?"

"Very like, Master Jim. Very sorry, your Pa were, he said, to go sosuddint, and not to see you again, and the other young gentlemenlikewise, seein' you go away on Monday. He left his love to Miss Norah, and a letter for you; and Miss Norah, you was to try not to be dull, andhe would be back by Thursday, so he 'oped. "

"Oh, " said Norah, blankly. "It's hardly a homecoming without Dad. "

Supper was over at last, and it had been a monumental meal. To beholdthe onslaughts made by the four upon Mrs. Brown's extensive preparationsone might have supposed that they had previously been starving for timeuncounted. 

"Heigho!" said Jim. "Our last day to-morrow. "

Groans followed from Harry and Wally. 

"What do you want to remind a fellow for?"

"Couldn't help it--slipped out. What a jolly sell not to see old Dadagain!" Jim wrinkled his brown handsome face into a frown. 

"You needn't talk!" said Norah gloomily. "Fancy me on Monday--not a soulto speak to. "

"Poor old Norah--yes, it's rough on you, " said Jim. "Wish you werecoming too. Why can't you get Dad to let you go to school in Melbourne?"

"Thanks, " said Norah hastily, "I'd rather not. I think I can bear thisbetter. School! What on earth would I do with myself, shut up all day?"

"Oh, all right; I thought you might like it. You get used to it, youknow. "

"I couldn't get used to doing without Dad, " returned Norah. 

"Or Dad to doing without you, I reckon, " said Jim. "Oh, I suppose it'sbetter as it is--only you'll have to get taught some day, old chap, Isuppose. "

"Oh, never mind that now, " Norah said impatiently. "I suppose I'll havea governess some day, and she won't let me ride astride, or go after thecattle, or climb trees, or do anything worth doing, and everything willbe perfectly hateful. It's simply beastly to be getting old!"

"Cheer up, old party, " Jim laughed. "She might be quite a decent sortfor all you know. As for riding astride, Dad'll never let you ride anyother way, so you can keep your mind easy about that. Well, never mindgovernesses, anyhow; you haven't got one yet, and sufficient unto theday is the governess thereof. What are we going to do to-morrow?"

"Can't do very much, " said Norah, still showing traces of gloom. "It'sSunday; besides, the horses want a spell, and you boys will have topack--you leave pretty early on Monday, you know. "

"Oh, botheration!" said Wally, jumping up so suddenly that he upset hischair. "For goodness' sake, don't talk of going back until we actuallyget there; it's bad enough then. Let's go and explore somewhereto-morrow. "

"We can do that all right, " said Jim, glad of any turn being given tothe melancholy conversation. "We've never taken you chaps to the falls, two miles up the creek, and they're worth seeing. "

"It's a nice walk, too, " added Norah, putting sorrow to flight by deftlylanding a pellet of bread on Harry's nose. "Think you can struggle sofar, Harry?"

"Yes, and carry you back when you knock up, " said that gentleman, returning the missile, without success, Norah having retreated behind avase of roses. "I think it would be a jolly good plan. "

"Right oh!" said Jim. "That's settled. We'll pack up in the morning, getBrownie to give us dinner early, and start in good time. It doesn'treally take long to walk there, you know, only we want to be able toloaf on the way, and when we get to the falls. "

"Rather, " said Harry. "I never see any fun in a walk when you tearsomewhere, get there, and tear back again. Life's too short. Come on, Norah, and play to us. "

So they trooped into the drawing-room, and for an hour the boys layabout on sofas and easy chairs, while Norah played softly. Finally shefound that her entire audience was sound asleep, a state of things shevery naturally resented by gently pouring water from a vase on theirpeaceful faces. Peace fled at that, and so did Norah. 

CHAPTER X. THE LAST DAY

"Now then, Harry, are you ready?"

"Coming, " said Harry's cheerful voice. He appeared on the verandah, endeavouring to cram a gigantic apple into his pocket. 

"Norah's, " he said, in response to Jim's lifted eyebrows. "Don't know ifshe means to eat it in sections or not--it certainly doesn't mean to gointo my pocket as it is. " He desisted from his efforts. "Try it in thecrown of your hat, old man. "

"Thanks--my hat's got all it knows to hold my brains, " retorted Jim. "You can't take that thing. Here, Norah, " as that damsel appeared on thestep, "how do you imagine Harry's going to cart this apple?"

"Quite simple, " said Norah airily. "Cut it in four, and we'll each takea bit. "

"That's the judgment of Solomon, " said Wally, who was lying full lengthon the lawn--recovering, as Jim unkindly suggested, from dinner. 

"Well, come along, " Jim said impatiently--"you're an awfully hard crowdto get started. We want to reach the falls in fair time, to see thesunlight on them--it's awfully pretty. After about three or four o'clockthe trees shade the water, and it's quite ordinary. "

"Just plain, wet water, " murmured Wally. Jim rolled him over and overdown the sloping lawn, and then fled, pursued by Wally with dishevelledattire and much grass in his mouth. The others followed more steadily, and all four struck across the paddock to the creek. 

It was a rather hot afternoon, and they were glad to reach the shade ofthe bank and to follow the cattle track that led close to the water. Great fat bullocks lay about under the huge gum trees, scarcely raisingtheir eyes to glance at the children as they passed; none were eating, all were chewing the cud in lazy contentment. They passed through asmaller paddock where superb sheep dotted the grass--real aristocratsthese, accustomed to be handled and petted, and to live on the fat ofthe land--poor grass or rough country food they had never known. Jim andNorah visited some special favourites, and patted them. Harry and Wallyadmired at a distance. 

"Those some of the sheep you saved from the fire?" queried Harry. 

Norah flushed. 

"Never did, " she said shortly, and untruthfully. "Don't know why youcan't talk sense, Jim!"--at which that maligned youth laughedexcessively, until first the other boys, and then Norah, joined in, perforce. 

After again climbing over the sheep-proof fence of the smaller paddockthey came out upon a wide plain, almost treeless, save for the timberalong the creek, where their cattle track still led them. Far as theycould see no fence broke the line of yellow grass. There were groups ofcattle out on the plain. These were store bullocks, Jim explained, adraft recently arrived from Queensland, and hardly yet acclimatised. 

"It takes a good while for them to settle down, " Norah said, "and thenlots of 'em get sick--pleuro and things; and we inoculate them, andtheir tails drop off, and sometimes the sick ones get bad-tempered, andit's quite exciting work mustering. "

"Dangerous?" asked Wally. 

"Not with a pony that knows things like Bobs, " said Bobs' mistress. "Healways keeps his weather eye open for danger. "

"Not a bad thing, as you certainly don't, " laughed Jim. 

"Well--do you?"

"Certainly I do, " said Jim firmly, whereat Norah laughed very heartily. 

"When I leave school, Dad says I can go on the roads with the cattle forone trip, " said Jim. "Be no end of fun--takes ever so long to bring themdown from Queensland, and the men have a real good time--travel with acook, and a covered buggy and pair to bring the tucker and tents along. "

"What'll you be?" asked Wally--"cook?"

"No, slushy, " said Harry. 

"No, I'll take you two chaps along in those billets, " grinned Jim. 

"I don't know who'd be cook, " said Norah solemnly; "but I don't thinkthe men would be in very good condition at the end of the trip, whichever of you it was!"

With such pleasantries they beguiled the way, until, on rounding a bendin the track, a dull roar came plainly to their ears. 

"What's that?" asked Wally, stopping to listen. 

"That's the falls, my boy, " replied Jim. "They're really quiterespectable falls--almost Niagarous! Come along, we'll see them in acouple of minutes. "

The sound of falling water became plainer and plainer as they pushed on. At this point the track was less defined and the scrub thicker--Jimexplained that the cattle did not come here much, as there was nodrinking-place for them for a good distance below the falls. They mightalmost have imagined themselves back in the bush near the Hermit's camp, Harry said, as they pushed their way through scrub and undergrowth, manyraspberry vines adding variety, if not charm, to the scramble. The lastpart of the walk was up bill, and at length they came out upon a clearerpatch of ground. 

For some time the noise of the falls had deepened, until now it was aloud roar; but the sound had hardly prepared the boys for the sight thatmet their gaze. High up were rocky cliffs, sparsely clothed withvegetation, and through these the creek had cut its way, falling in onesheer mass, fifty feet or more, into the bed below, hollowed out by itduring countless ages. The water curved over the top of the fall in oneexquisite wave, smooth as polished marble, but half-way down a point ofrock jutted suddenly out, and on this the waters dashed and split, flying off from it in a cloud of spray. At the foot the cataract roaredand bubbled and seethed in one boiling mass of rapids. 

But the glory of it all was the sunlight. It fell right on the mass ofdescending water; and in the rays the fall glittered and flashed withall the colours of the rainbow, and the flying spray was like powderedjewels. It caught the drops hanging on the ferns that fringed the water, and turned them into twinkling diamonds. The whole fall seemed to bealive in the sunbeams' dancing light. 

"Oh-h, I say, " whispered Harry. "Fancy never showing us this before!" Hecast himself on the ground and lay, chin in hands, gazing at the wonderbefore him. 

"We kept it to the last, " said Norah softly. She sat down by him and theothers followed their example. 

"Just think, " said Harry, "that old creek's been doing that ever sincetime began--every day the sun comes to take his share at lighting it up, long before we were born, and ages after we shall die! Doesn't it makeyou feel small!"

Norah nodded understandingly. "I saw it once by moonlight, " she said. "Dad and I rode here one night--full moon. Oh, it was lovely! Not likethis, of course, because there wasn't any colour--but a beautiful white, clean light, and the fall was like a sheet of silver. "

"Did you ever throw anything over?" asked Wally. His wonderment wassubsiding and the boy in him woke up again. 

"No good, " said Jim. "You never see it again. I've thrown a stick in upabove, and it simply whisks over and gets sucked underneath the curtainof water at once, and disappears altogether until it reaches the smoothwater, ever so far down. "

"Say you went over yourself?"

"Wouldn't be much left of you, " Jim answered, with a laugh. "The bed ofthe creek's simply full of rocks--you can see a spike sticking up hereand there in the rapids. We've seen sheep come down in flood-time--theyget battered to bits. I don't think I'll try any experiments, thank you, young Wally. "

"You always were a disobliging critter, " Wally grinned. 

"Another time a canoe came over, " Jim said. "It belonged to two chapsfarther up--they'd just built it, and were out for the first time, andgot down too near the falls. They didn't know much about managing theircraft, and when the suck of the water began to take them along theycouldn't get out of the current. They went faster and faster, strugglingto paddle against the stream, instead of getting out at an angle andmaking for the bank--which they might have done. At last they could hearthe roar of the falls quite plainly. "

"What happened to them?" asked Wally. "Did they go over?"

"Well, they reckoned it wasn't healthy to remain in the canoe, " saidJim. "It was simply spinning along in the current, and the falls werealmost in sight. So they dived in, on opposite sides--the blessed canoenearly tipped over when they stood up, and only the shock of the crossdrive kept her right. Of course the creek's not so very wide, evenfarther up beyond the falls, and the force of their spring sent themnearly out of the current. They could both swim well, and after astruggle they got to the banks, just in time to see the canoe whisk overthe waterfall!"

"What hard luck!"

"It was rather. They started off down-stream to find it, but for a longway they couldn't see a trace. Then, right in the calm water, ever sofar down, they found it--bit by bit. It was broken into so muchmatchwood!"

"What did they do?" asked Wally. 

"Stood and stared at it from opposite sides, like two wet images, " saidJim, laughing. "It's lowdown to grin, I suppose, but they must havelooked funny. Then one of them swam across and they made their way toour place, and we fixed them up with dry things and drove them home. Idon't think they've gone in for canoeing since!" finished Jimreflectively. 

"Well, I guess it would discourage them a bit, " Wally agreed. "Gettingshipwrecked's no fun. "

"Ever tried it?"

"Once--in Albert Park Lagoon, " Wally admitted bashfully. "Some of uswent out for a sail one Saturday afternoon. We didn't know much aboutit, and I really don't know what it was that tipped the old boat over. Iwas the smallest, so naturally I wasn't having any say in managing her. "

"That accounts for it, " said Jim dryly. 

"Didn't mean that--goat!" said Wally. "Anyhow, I was very muchastonished to find myself suddenly kicking in the mud. Ever been in thatlake? It isn't nice. It isn't deep enough to drown you, but the mud is acaution. I got it all over me--face and all!"

"You must have looked your best!" said Jim. 

"I did. I managed to stand up, very much amazed to find I wasn'tdrowned. Two of the others walked out! I was too small to do more thanjust manage to keep upright. The water was round my chest. I couldn'thave walked a yard. "

"How did you manage?"

"A boat came along and picked up the survivors, " grinned Wally. "Theywouldn't take us in. We were just caked with mud, so I don't blame'em--but we hung on to the stern, and they towed us to the shore. Wewere quite close to land. Then they went back and brought our boat tous. They were jolly kind chaps--didn't seem to mind any trouble. "

"You don't seem to have minded it, either, " said Norah. 

"We were too busy laughing, " Wally said. "You have to expect thesethings when you go in for a life on the ocean wave. The worst part of itcame afterwards, when we went home. That was really unpleasant. I wasstaying at my aunt's in Toorak. "

"Did you get into a row?"

"It was unpleasant, " Wally repeated. "Aunts haven't much sympathy, youknow. They don't like mess, and I was no end messy. We won't talk aboutit, I think, thank you. " Wally rolled over on his back, produced anapple and bit into it solemnly. 

"Let us respect his silence, " said Jim. 

"You had aunts too?" queried Wally, with his mouth full. 

"Not exactly aunts, " Jim said. "But we had an old Tartar of ahousekeeper once, when we were small kids. She ruled us with a rod ofiron for about six months, and Norah and I could hardly call our soulsour own. Father used to be a good deal away and Mrs. Lister could dopretty well as she liked. "

"I did abominate that woman, " said Norah reflectively. 

"I don't wonder, " replied Jim. "You certainly were a downtrodden littlenipper as ever was. D'you remember the time we went canoeing in theflood on your old p'rambulator?"

"Not likely to forget it. "

"What was it?" Wally asked. "Tell us, Jim. "

"Norah had a pram--like most kids, " Jim began. 

"Well, I like that, " said Norah, in great indignation. "It was yoursfirst!"

"Never said it wasn't, " said Jim somewhat abashed by the laughter thatensued. "But that was ages ago. It was yours at this time, anyhow. Butonly the lower storey was left--just the floor of the pram on threewheels. Norah used to sit on this thing and push herself along with twosticks, like rowing on dry land. "

"It was no end of fun, " said Norah. "You _could_ go!"

"You could, " grinned Jim. "I'll never forget the day I saw you startfrom the top of the hill near the house. The pram got a rate on of amile a minute, and the sticks weren't needed. About half-way down itstruck a root, and turned three double somersaults in the air. I don'tknow how many Norah turned--but when Dad and I got to the spot she wassitting on a thick mat of grass, laughing like one o'clock, and the pramwas about half a mile away on the flat with its wheels in the air! Wequite reckoned you were killed. "

"Yes, and Dad made me promise not to go down that hill again, " saidNorah ruefully. "It was a horrid nuisance!"

"Well, there was a flood, " said Jim. "Not very much of a one. We'd had agood bit of rain, and the water-hole in the home paddock overflowed andcovered all the flat about two feet deep. At first it was a bit too deepfor Norah and her wheeled boat, but when it went down a bit she set offvoyaging. She did look a rum little figure, out in the middle of thewater, pushing herself along with her two sticks! Mrs. Lister didn'tapprove of it, but as Dad had given her leave, the housekeeper couldn'tstop her. "

At this point Norah was heard to murmur "Cat!"

"Just so!" said Jim. "Well, you know, I used to poke fun at Norah andthis thing. But one day I had gone down to the water's edge, and shecame up on it, poling herself through the water at a great rate, and itoccurred to me it didn't look half bad fun. So I suggested a turnmyself. "

"You said, 'Here, kid, let's have that thing for a bit, '" said Norahfirmly. 

"Did I?" said Jim, with meekness. 

"Yes, you did. So I kindly got off. "

"Then?" asked Harry. 

"He got on. I said, 'Jim, dear, pray be careful about the holes, and letme tell you where they are!'"

"I'm sure you did!" grinned Wally. 

"And he said, 'If a kid like you can keep out of holes, I guess I can!'"

"I'm sure he did!" said Wally. 

"Yes. So he set off. Now I had been over that flat so often in dryweather that I knew every bit of it. But Jim didn't. He went off as hardas he could, and got on very well for a little bit--"

"Am I telling this yarn, or are you?" inquired Jim, laughing. 

"This is the part that is best for me to tell, " said Norah solemnly. "Then he turned suddenly, so suddenly I hadn't time to do more than yella warning, which he didn't hear--and the next minute the side wheels ofthe pram went over the edge of a hole, and the thing turned upside downupon poor old Jimmy!"

"How lovely!" said Wally, kicking with delight. "Well, and whathappened?"

"Oh, Jim can tell you now, " laughed Norah. "I wasn't under the water!"

"I was!" said Jim. "The blessed old pram turned clean over and cast mebodily into a hole. That was all I knew--until I tried to get out, andfound the pram had come, too, and was right on top of me--and do youthink I could move that blessed thing?"

"Well?"

"In came Norah, " said Jim. "(I'll take it out of you now, my girl!) Sherealised at once what had happened and waded in from the bank and pulledthe old pram off her poor little brother! I came up, spluttering, to seeNorah, looking very white, just preparing to dive in after me!"

"You never saw such a drowned rat!" said Norah, taking up the tale. "Soaked--and muddy--and very cross! And the first thing he did was toabuse my poor old wheely-boat!"

"Well--wouldn't you?" Jim laughed. "Had to abuse something! Anyhow, werighted her and Norah waded farther in after the sticks, which hadfloated peacefully away, and we pulled the wheely-boat ashore. Then weroared laughing at each other. I certainly was a drowned rat, but Norahwasn't much better, as she'd slipped nearly into the hole herself, inpulling the pram off me. But when we'd laughed, the first thoughtwas--'How are we going to dodge Mrs. Lister!' It was a nasty problem!"

"What did you do?"

"Well, after consultation we got up near the house, planting the pram insome trees. We dodged through the shrubbery until we reached that oldsummer-house, and there I left Norah and scooted over to the stables, and borrowed an overcoat belonging to a boy we had working and a pair ofhis boots. Dad was away, or I might have gone straight to him. I put onthe borrowed things over my wet togs (and very nice I looked!) andtrotted off to the side of the house. No one seemed about, so I slippedinto my room through the window and then into Norah's, and got a bundleof clothes, and back I scooted to the summer-house, left Norah's thingsthere, and found a dressing-room for myself among some shrubs close by. 

"Well, do you know, that old cat, Mrs. Lister, had seen us all the time?She'd actually spotted us coming up the paddock, dripping, and haddeliberately planted herself to see what we'd do. She knew all about myexpedition after clothes; then she followed us to the shrubbery, anddescended upon us like an avalanche, just as we got half-dressed!"

"'May I ask what you naughty little children are doing?' she said. 

"Well, you know, that put my back up a bit--'cause I was nearly twelve, and Dad didn't make a little kid of me. However, I tried to keep civil, and tell her what had happened; but she told me to hold my tongue. Shegrabbed Norah by the shoulder, and called her all the names under thesun, and shook her. Then she said, 'You'll come to bed at once, miss!'and caught hold of her wrist to drag her in. 

"Now Norah had sprained her wrist not long before, and she had to be abit careful of it. We all knew that. She didn't cry out when Mrs. Listerjerked her wrist, but I saw her turn white, and knew it was the badone. "

"So he chucked himself on top of old Mrs. Lister, and pounded her ashard as he could, " put in Norah, "and she was so astonished she let mego. She turned her attention to Jim then, and gave him a terrible whackover the head that sent him flying. And just then we heard a voice thatwas so angry we hardly recognised it for Dad's, saying--

"'What is this all about?'"

"My word, we were glad to see Dad!" said Jim. "He came over and put hisarm round Norah--poor little kid. Mrs. Lister had screwed her wrist tillit was worse than ever it had been, and she was as white as a sheet. Dadhelped her on with her clothes. All the time Mrs. Lister was pouring outa flood of eloquence against us, and was nearly black in the face withrage. Dad took no notice until Norah was dressed. Then he said, 'Come tome in the study in twenty minutes, ' and he picked Norah up and carriedher inside, where he dosed her, and fixed up her wrist. I put on myclothes and followed them. 

"Norah and I never said anything until Mrs. Lister had told her story, which was a fine production, little truth, and three parts awful crams. Then Dad asked for our side, and we just told him. He knew we never toldlies, and he believed us, and we told him some other things Mrs. Listerused to do to us in the way of bullying and spite. I don't know that Dadneeded them, because Norah's wrist spoke louder than fifty tales, and hedidn't need any more evidence, though after all, she might have grabbedthe bad wrist by mistake, and she had done far worse things on purpose. But the end of it was, Mrs. Lister departed that night, and Norah and Idanced a polka in the hall when we heard the buggy drive off. "

"That being the case, " said Norah gravely, "we'll all have an apple. "

The apples were produced and discussed, and then it was time to think ofhome, for the sun had long since left the glistening surface of thefalls. So they gathered themselves up, and reluctantly enough left thebeautiful scene behind them, with many a backward look. 

The way home was rather silent. The shadow of the boys' departure wasover them all, and Norah especially felt the weight of approachingloneliness. With Dad at home it would have been easier to let the boysgo, but the prospect of several days by herself, with only the servantsfor company, was not a very comforting one. Norah wished dismally thatshe had been born a boy, with the prospect of a journey, and mates, andschool, and "no end of larks. " Then she thought of Dad, and though stilldismal, unwished the wish, and was content to remain a girl. 

There was a little excitement on the homeward trip over a snake, whichtried to slip away unseen through the grass, and when it found itselfsurrounded by enemies, coiled itself round Harry's leg, a proceedingvery painful to that youth, who nevertheless stood like a statue whileJim dodged about for a chance to strike at the wildly waving head. Hegot it at last, and while the reptile writhed in very natural annoyance, Harry managed to get free, and soon put a respectful distance betweenhimself and his too-affectionate acquaintance. Jim finished up thesnake, and they resumed the track, keeping a careful look-out, andimagining another in every rustle. 

"Well done, old Harry!" said Wally. "Stood like a statue, you did!"

"Thanks!" said Harry. "Jim's the chap to say 'Well done' to, I think. "

"Not me, " said Jim. "Easy enough to try to kill the brute. I'd rather dothat than feel him round my leg, where I couldn't get at him. "

"Well, I think I would, too, " Harry said, laughing. "I never felt such adesire to stampede in my life. "

"It was beastly, " affirmed Norah. She was a little pale. "It seemedabout an hour before he poked his horrid head out and let Jim get awhack at it. But you didn't lose much time, then, Jimmy!"

"Could he have bitten through the leg of your pants?" queried Wally, with interest. 

"He couldn't have sent all the venom through, I think, " Jim replied. "But enough would have gone to make a very sick little Harry. "

"It'd be an interesting experiment, no doubt, " said Harry. "But, if youdon't mind, I'll leave it for someone else to try. I'd recommend awooden-legged man as the experimenter. He'd feel much more at his easewhile the snake was trying how much venom he could get through a pantleg!"

CHAPTER XI. GOOD-BYE

"I was just a-goin' to ring the big bell, " said Mrs. Brown. 

She was standing on the front verandah as the children came up the lawn. 

"Why, we're not late, Brownie, are we?" asked Norah. 

"Not very. " The old housekeeper smiled at her. "Only when your Pa's awayI allers feels a bit nervis about you--sech thoughtless young people, an' all them animals and snakes about!"

"Gammon!" said Jim laughing. "D'you mean to say I can't look after them, Brownie?"

"I'd rather not say anythink rash, Master Jim, " rejoined Mrs. Brown witha twinkle. 

"I guess Mrs. Brown's got the measure of your foot, old man, " grinnedHarry. 

"Oh, well, " said Jim resignedly, "a chap never gets his due in thisworld. I forgive you, Brownie, though you don't deserve it. Got a nicetea for us?"

"Sech as it is, Master Jim, it's waitin' on you, " said Mrs. Brown, withpoint. 

"That's what you might call a broad hint, " cried Jim. "Come on, chaps--race you for a wash-up!"

They scattered, Mrs. Brown laying violent hands on the indignant Norah, and insisting on arraying her in a clean frock, which the victimresisted, as totally unnecessary. Mrs. Brown carried her point, however, and a trim little maiden joined the boys in the dining-room five minuteslater. 

Mrs. Brown's cooking was notable, and she had excelled herself over theboys' farewell tea. A big cold turkey sat side by side with a ham ofmajestic dimensions, while the cool green of a salad was tempting afterthe hot walk. There were jellies, and a big bowl of fruit salad, whilethe centre of the table was occupied by a tall cake, raising aloftglittering white tiers. There were scones and tarts and wee cakes, anddishes of fresh fruit, and altogether the boys whistled long and softly, and declared that "Brownie was no end of a brick!"

Whereat Mrs. Brown, hovering about to see that her charges wantednothing, smiled and blushed, and said, "Get on, now, do!"

Jim carved, and Jim's carving was something to marvel at. No method cameamiss to him. When he could cut straight he did; at other times hesawed; and, when it seemed necessary, he dug. After he had finishedhelping every one, Wally said that the turkey looked as if a dog hadbeen at it, and the ham was worse, which remarks Jim meekly accepted ashis due. Nor did the inartistic appearance of the turkey prevent thecritic from coming back for more!

Everyone was hungry, and did full justice to "Brownie's" forethought;while Norah, behind the tall teapot, declared that it was a job for twomen and a boy to pour out for such a thirsty trio. Harry helped thefruit salad, and Harry's helpings were based on his own hunger, andwould have suited Goliath. Finally, Norah cut the cake with greatceremony, and Wally's proposal that everyone should retire to the lawnwith a "chunk" was carried unanimously. 

Out on the grass they lay and chattered, while the dusk came down, andslowly a pale moon climbed up into the sky. Norah alone was silent. After a while Harry and Wally declared they must go and pack, and Jimand his sister were left alone. 

Wally and Harry scurried down the hail. The sound of their merry voicesdied away, and there was silence on the lawn. 

Jim rolled nearer to Norah. 

"Blue, old girl?"

"'M, " said a muffled voice. 

Jim felt for her hand in the darkness--and found it. The small, brownfingers closed tightly round his rough paw. 

"I know, " he said comprehendingly. "I'm awfully sorry, old woman. I dowish we hadn't to go. "

There was no answer. Jim knew why--and also knowing perfectly well thattears would mean the deepest shame, he talked on without requiring anyresponse. 

"Beastly hard luck, " he said. "We don't want to go a bit--fancy schoolafter this! Ugh! But there are three of us, so it isn't so bad. Itwouldn't matter if Dad was at home, for you. But I must say it's lowdownto be leaving you all by your lonely little self. "

Norah struggled hard with that abominable lump in her throat, despisingherself heartily. 

"Brownie'll be awfully good to you, " went on Jim. "You'll have to buckup, you know, old girl, and not let yourself get dull. You practise likeone o'clock; or make jam, or something; or get Brownie to let you dosome cooking. Anything to keep you 'from broodin' on bein' a dorg, ' asold David Harum says. There's all the pets to look after, youknow--you've got to keep young black Billy up to the mark, or he'llnever feed 'em properly, and if you let him alone he changes the waterin the dishes when the last lot's dry. And, by George, Norah"--Jim had abright idea--"Dad told me last night he meant to shift those newbullocks into the Long Plain. Ten to one he forgot all about it, goingaway so suddenly. You'll have to see to it. "

"I'd like that, " said Norah, feeling doubtfully for her voice. 

"Rather--best thing you can do, " Jim said eagerly. "Take Billy with you, of course, and a dog. They're not wild, and I don't think you'll haveany trouble--only be very careful to get 'em all--examine all the scrubin the paddock. Billy knows how many there ought to be. I did know, but, of course, I've forgotten. Of course Dad may have left directions withone of the men about it already. "

"Well, I could go too, couldn't I?" queried Norah. 

"Rather. They'd be glad to have you. "

"Well, I'll be glad of something to do. I wasn't looking forward toto-morrow. "

"No, " said Jim, "I know you weren't. Never mind, you keep busy. Youmight drive into Cunjee with Brownie on Tuesday--probably you'd get aletter from Dad a day earlier, and hear when he's coming home--and if hesays he's coming home on Thursday, Wednesday won't seem a bit long. You'll be as right as ninepence if you buck up. "

"I will, old chap. Only I wish you weren't going. "

"So do I, " said Jim, "and so do the other chaps. They want to come againsome holidays. "

"Well, I hope you'll bring them. "

"My word! I will. Do you know, Norah, they think you're no end of abrick?"

"Do they?" said Norah, much pleased. "Did they tell you?"

"They're always telling me. Now, you go to bed, old girl. "

He rose and pulled her to her feet. 

Norah put her arms round his neck--a very rare caress. 

"Good night, " she said. "I--I do love you, Jimmy!"

Jim hugged her. 

"Same here, old chap, " he said. 

There was such scurrying in the early morning. Daylight revealed manythings that had been overlooked in the packing overnight, and they hadto be crammed in, somehow. Other things were remembered which had notbeen packed, and which must be found, and diligent hunt had to be madefor them. 

Norah was everybody's mate, running on several errands at once, findingJim's school cap near Harry's overcoat while she was looking for Wally'scherished snake-skin. Her strong brown hands pulled tight the straps ofbulging bags on which their perspiring owners knelt, puffing. After thesaid bags were closed and carried out to the buggy, she found the threetoothbrushes, and crammed each, twisted in newspaper, into its owner'spocket. She had no time to think she was dull. 

Mrs. Brown, who had been up since dawn, had packed a huge hamper, andsuperintended its placing in the buggy. It was addressed to "MasterJames, Master Harry, and Master Wallie, " and later Jim reported that itscontents were such as to make the chaps at school speechless--acompliment which filled Mrs. Brown with dismay, and a wish that she hadput in less pastry and perhaps a little castor oil. At present she feltmildly safe about it and watched it loaded with a sigh of relief. 

"Boom-m-m!" went the big gong, and the boys rushed to the dining-room, where Norah was ready to pour out tea. 

"You have some, Norah, " said Harry, retaining his position close to theteapot, whence Wally had vainly striven to dislodge him. 

"Yes, old girl, you eat some breakfast, " commanded Jim. 

Norah flashed a smile at him over the cosy. 

"Lots of time afterwards, " she said, a little sadly. 

"No time like the present. " Wally took a huge bite out of a scone, andsurveyed the relic with interest. Someone put a smoking plateful beforehim, and his further utterances were lost in eggs and bacon. 

Mrs. Brown flitted about like a stout guardian angel, keeping anespecially watchful eye on Jim. If the supply on his plate lessenedperceptibly, it was replenished with more, like manna from above. To hislaughing protests she merely murmured, "Poor dear lamb!" whereat Wallyand Harry laughed consumedly, and Jim blushed. 

"Well, you've beaten me at last, Brownie, " Jim declared finally. Hewaved away a chop which was about to descend upon his plate. "No truly, Brownie dear; there are limits! Tea? No thanks, Norah, I've had about adozen cups already, I believe! You fellows ready?"

They were, and the table was briskly deserted. 

There was a final survey of the boys' room, which resembled a rubbishheap, owing to vigorous packing. 

Everybody ran wildly about looking for something. 

Wally was found searching frantically for his cap, which Norahdiscovered--on his head. There was a hurried journey to the kitchen, tobid the servants "Good-bye. "

The buggy wheels scrunched the gravel before the hall door. The overseercoo-ee'd softly. 

"All aboard!"

"All right, Evans!" Jim appeared in the doorway, staggering under a bigGladstone bag. Billy, similarly laden, followed. His black face wasunusually solemn. 

"Chuck 'em in, Billy. Come on, you chaps!"

The chaps appeared. 

"Good-bye, Norah. It's been grand!" Harry pumped her hand vigorously. 

"Wish you were coming!" said Wally dismally. "Good-bye. Write to us, won't you, Norah?"

"Now then, Master Jim!" Evans glanced at his watch. 

"Right oh!" said Jim. He put his arm round the little girl's shouldersand looked keenly into her face. There was no hint of breaking down. Norah met his gaze steadily and smiled at him. But the boy knew. 

"Good-bye, little chap, " he said, and kissed her. "You'll keep yourpecker up?"

She nodded. "Good-bye, Jimmy, old boy. "

Jim sprang into the buggy. 

"All right, Evans. "

They whirled down the drive. Looking back, waving their caps, the boyscarried away a memory of a brave little figure, erect, smiling andlonely on the doorstep. 

CHAPTER XII. THE WINFIELD MURDER

The next few days went by slowly enough. 

Norah followed faithfully all Jim's plans for her amusement. Shepractised, did some cooking, and helped Mrs. Brown preserve apricots;then there were the pets to look to and, best of all, the bullocks tomove from one paddock to another. It was an easy job, and Evans wasquite willing to leave it to Norah, Billy and a dog. The trio made agreat business of it, and managed almost to forget loneliness in thework of hunting through the scrub and chasing the big, sleepy half-fatbeasts out upon the clear plain. There were supposed to be forty-four inthe paddock, but Norah and Billy mustered forty-five, and wereexceedingly proud of themselves in consequence. 

Next day Norah persuaded Mrs. Brown to allow herself to be driven intoCunjee. There was nothing particular to go for, except that, as Norahsaid, they would get the mail a day earlier; but Mrs. Brown was notlikely to refuse anything that would chase the look of loneliness fromher charge's face. Accordingly they set off after an early lunch, Norahdriving the pair of brown ponies in a light single buggy that barelyheld her and her by no means fairy-like companion. 

The road was good and they made the distance in excellent time, arrivingin Cunjee to see the daily train puff its way out of the station. Thenthey separated, as Norah had no opinion whatever of Mrs. Brown'sshopping--principally in drapers' establishments, which this bush maidenhated cordially. So Mrs. Brown, unhampered, plunged into mysteries offlannel and sheeting, while Norah strolled up the principal street andexchanged greetings with those she knew. 

She paused by the door of a blacksmith's shop, for the smith and shewere old friends, and Norah regarded Blake as quite the principal personof Cunjee. Generally there were horses to be looked at, but just now theshop was empty, and Blake came forward to talk to the girl. 

"Seen the p'lice out your way?" he asked presently, after the weather, the crops, and the dullness of business had been exhausted as topics. 

"Police?" queried Norah. "No. Why?"

"There was two mounted men rode out in your direction yesterday, " Blakeanswered. "They're on the track of that Winfield murderer, theybelieve. "

"What was that?" asked Norah blankly. "I never heard of it. "

"Not heard of the Winfield murder! Why, you can't read the papers, missy, surely?"

"No; of course I don't, " Norah said. "Daddy doesn't like me to readeveryday ones. "

Blake nodded. 

"No, I s'pose not, " he said. "You're too young to worry your little headabout murders and suchlike. But everybody was talkin' about the Winfieldaffair, so I sorter took it for granted that you'd know about it. "

"Well, I don't, " said Norah. "What is it all about?"

"There's not very much I can tell you about it, missy, " Blake said, scratching his head and looking down at the grave lace. "Nobody knowsmuch about it. 

"Winfield's a little bit of a place about twenty miles from 'ere, youknow--right in the bush and away from any rail or coach line. On'y acouple o' stores, an' a hotel, an' a few houses. Don't suppose manypeople out o' this district ever heard of it, it's that quiet an'asleep. 

"Well, there was two ol' men livin' together in a little hut a mile orso from the Winfield township. Prospectors, they said they were--an'there was an idea that they'd done pretty well at the game, an' had abit of gold hidden somewhere about their camp. They kept very much tothemselves, an' never mixed with anyone--when one o' them came into thetownship for stores he'd get his business done an' clear out as quick aspossible. 

"Well, about a month ago two fellows called Bowen was riding along abush track between Winfield an' their camp when they came across one o'the ol' mates peggin' along the track for all he was worth. They wassurprised to see that he was carryin' a big swag, an' was apparently ona move. 

"'Hullo, Harris!' they says--'leavin' the district?' He was a civilspoken ol' chap as a rule, so they was rather surprised when he on'ygive a sort o' grunt, an' hurried on. 

"They was after cattle, and pretty late the same day they foundthemselves near the hut where the two ol' chaps lived, an' as they washungry an' thirsty, they reckoned they'd call in an' see if they couldget a feed. So they rode up and tied their horses to a tree and walkedup to the hut. No one answered their knock, so they opened the door, an'walked in. There, lyin' on his bunk, was ol' Waters. They spoke to him, but he didn't answer. You see, missy, he couldn't, bein' dead. "

"Dead!" said Norah, her eyes dilating. 

Blake nodded. 

"Stone dead, " he said. "They thought at first he'd just died natural, asthere was no mark o' violence on 'im, but when they got a doctor toexamine 'im he soon found out very different. The poor ol' feller 'adbeen poisoned, missy; the doctor said 'e must a' bin dead twelve hourswhen the Bowens found 'im. Everything of value was gone from the hutalong with his mate, old Harris--the black-hearted villain he must be!"

"Why, do they think he killed the other man?" Norah asked. 

"Seems pretty certain, missy, " Blake replied. "In fact, there don't seemthe shadder of a doubt. He was comin' straight from the hut when theBowens met 'im--an' he'd cleared out the whole place, gold an' all. Oh, there ain't any doubt about Mr. Harris bein' the guilty party. The onlything doubtful is Mr. Harris's whereabouts. "

"Have the police been looking for him?" asked Norah. 

"Huntin' high an' low--without any luck. He seems to have vanished offthe earth. They've bin follerin' up first one clue and then anotherwithout any result. Now the last is that he's been seen somewhere theother side of your place, an' two troopers have gone out to-day to seeif there's any truth in the rumour. "

"I think it's awfully exciting, " Norah said, "but I'm terribly sorry forthe poor man who was killed. What a wicked old wretch the other mustbe!--his own mate, too! I wonder what he was like. Did you know him?"

"Well, I've seen old Harris a few times--not often, " Blake replied. "Still, he wasn't the sort of old man you'd forget. Not a bad-lookingold chap, he was. Very tall and well set up, with piercin' blue eyes, long white hair an' beard, an' a pretty uppish way of talkin'. I don'tfancy anyone about here knew him very well--he had a way of keepin' tohimself. One thing, there's plenty lookin' out for him now. "

"I suppose so, " Norah said. "I wonder will he really get away?"

"Mighty small chance, " said Blake. "Still, it's wonderful how he'smanaged to keep out of sight for so long. Of course, once in the bush itmight be hard to find him--but sooner or later he must come out to sometownship for tucker, an' then everyone will be lookin' out for him. Theymay have got him up your way by now, missy. Is your Pa at home?"

"He's coming home in a day or two, " Norah said; "perhaps to-morrow. Ihope they won't find Harris and bring him to our place. "

"Well, it all depends on where they find him if they do get him, " Blakereplied. "Possibly they might find the station a handy place to stop at. However, missy, don't you worry your head about it--nothing for you tobe frightened about. "

"Why, I'm not frightened, " Norah said. "It hasn't got anything to dowith me. Only I don't want to see a man who could kill his mate, that'sall. "

"He's much like any other man, " said Blake philosophically. "Say, here'ssomeone comin' after you, missy, I think. "

"I thought I'd find you here, " exclaimed Mrs. Brown's fat, comfortablevoice, as its owner puffed her way up the slope leading to theblacksmith's. "Good afternoon, Mr. Blake. I've finished all my shopping, Miss Norah, my dear, and the mail's in, and here's a letter for you, asyou won't be sorry to see. "

"From Dad? How lovely!" and Norah, snatching at the grey envelope withits big, black writing, tore it open hastily. At the first few words, she uttered a cry of delight. 

"Oh, he's coming home to-morrow, Brownie--only another day! He says hethinks it's time he was home, with murderers roaming about thedistrict!" and Norah executed a few steps of a Highland fling, greatlyto the edification of the blacksmith. 

"Dear sakes alive!" said Mrs. Brown, truculently. "I think there areenough of us at the station to look after you, murderer or nomurderer--not as 'ow but that 'Arris must be a nasty creature! Still I'mvery glad your Pa's coming, Miss Norah, because nothing do seem rightwhen he's away--an' it's dull for you, all alone. "

"Master Jim gone back, I s'pose?" queried Blake. 

"Yesterday, " Norah added. 

"Then you must be lonely, " the old blacksmith said, taking Norah's smallbrown hand, and holding it for a moment in his horny fist very much asif he feared it were an eggshell, and not to be dropped. "Master Jim'sgrowing a big fellow, too--goin' to be as big a man as his father, Ibelieve. Well, good-bye, missy, and don't forget to come in next timeyou're in the township. "

There was nothing further to detain them in Cunjee, and very soon theponies were fetched from the stables, and they were bowling out alongthe smooth metal road that wound its way across the plain, and Norah wasmingling excited little outbursts of delight over her father's returnwith frequent searches into a big bag of sweets which Mrs. Brown hadthoughtfully placed on the seat of the buggy. 

"I don't know why Blake wanted to go telling you about that nastymurderer, " Mrs. Brown said. They were ten miles from Cunjee, and themetal road had given place to a bush track, in very fair order. 

"Why not?" asked Norah, with the carelessness of twelve years. 

"Well, tales of murders aren't the things for young ladies' ears, " Mrs. Brown said primly. "Your Pa never tells you such things. The paper'sbeen full of this murder, but I would 'a' scorned to talk to you aboutit. "

"I don't think Blake meant any harm, " said Norah. "He didn't say so verymuch. I don't suppose he'd have mentioned it, only that Mr. Harris issupposed to have come our way, and even that doesn't seem certain. "

"'Arris 'as baffled the police, " said Mrs. Brown, with the solemn pridefelt by so many at the worsting of the guardians of the law. "They don'treely know anythink about his movements, that's my belief. Why, it'sweeks since he was seen. This yarn about his comin' this way is on'y gotup to 'ide the fact that they don't know a thing about it. I don'tb'lieve he's anywhere within coo-ee of our place. Might be out of thecountry now, for all anyone's sure of. "

"Blake seemed to think he'd really come this way;" Norah said. 

"Blake's an iggerant man, " said Mrs. Brown loftily. 

"Well, I'll keep a look-out for him, at any rate, " laughed Norah. "Heought to be easy enough to find--tall and good-looking and well setup--whatever that may mean--and long white beard and hair. He must be apretty striking-looking sort of old man. I--" And then recollectionswept over Norah like a flood, and her words faltered on her lips. 

Her hand gripped the reins tighter, and she drove on unconsciously. Blake's words were beating in her ears. "Not a bad-looking oldchap--very tall and well set up--piercing blue eyes and a pretty uppishway of talking. " The description had meant nothing to her until someonewhom it fitted all too aptly had drifted across her mental vision. 

The Hermit! Even while she felt and told herself that it could not be, the fatal accuracy of the likeness made her shudder. It was perfect--thetall, white-haired old man--"not the sort of old man you'd forget"--withhis distinguished look; the piercing blue eyes--but Norah knew whatkindliness lay in their depths--the gentle refined voice, so differentfrom most of the rough country voices. It would answer to Blake's"pretty uppish way of talking. " Anyone who had read the descriptionwould, on meeting the Hermit, immediately identify him as the man forwhom the police were searching. Norah's common sense told her that. 

A wave of horror swept over the little girl, and the hands gripping thereins trembled. Common sense might tell one tale, but every instinct ofher heart told a very different one. That gentle-faced old man, with aworld of kindness in his tired eyes--he the man who killed his sleepingmate for a handful of gold! Norah set her square little chin. She wouldnot--could not--believe it. 

"Why, you're very quiet, dearie. " Mrs. Brown glanced inquiringly at hercompanion. "A minute ago you was chatterin', and now you've gone downflat, like old soda-water. Is anything wrong?"

"No, I'm all right, Brownie. I was only thinking, " said Norah, forcing asmile. 

"Too many sweeties, I expect, " said Mrs. Brown, laying a heavy hand onthe bag and impounding it for future reference. "Mustn't have you getindigestion, an' your Pa comin' home to-morrow. "

Norah laughed. 

"Now, did you ever know me to have indigestion in my life?" she queried. 

"Well, perhaps not, " Mrs. Brown admitted. "Still, you never can tell; itdon' do to pride oneself on anything. If it ain't indigestion, you'vebeen thinking too much of this narsty murder. "

Norah flicked the off pony deliberately with her whip. 

"Darkie is getting disgracefully lazy, " she said. "He's not doing a bitof the work. Nigger's worth two of him. " The injured Darkie shot forwardwith a bound, and Mrs. Brown grabbed the side of the buggy hastily, andin her fears at the pace for the ensuing five minutes forgot her tooinconvenient cross-examination. 

Norah settled back into silence, her forehead puckered with a frown. Shehad never in her careless little life been confronted by such a problemas the one that now held her thoughts. That the startling similaritybetween her new-made friend and the description of the murderer shouldfasten upon her mind, was unavoidable. She struggled against the idea asdisloyal, but finally decided to think it out calmly. 

The descriptions tallied. So much was certain. The verbal likeness ofone man was an exact word painting of the other, so far as it went, "though, " as poor Norah reflected, "you can't always tell a person justby hearing what he's like. " Then there was no denying that the conductof the Hermit would excite suspicion. He was camping alone in thedeepest recesses of a lonely tract of scrub; he had been there someweeks, and she had had plenty of proof that he was taken aback at beingdiscovered and wished earnestly that no future prowlers might find theirway to his retreat. She recalled his shrinking from the boys, and hishasty refusal to go to the homestead. He had said in so many words thathe desired nothing so much as to be left alone--any one would havegathered that he feared discovery. They had all been conscious of themystery about him. Her thoughts flew back to the half-laughingconversation between Harry and Wally, when they had actually speculatedas to why he was hiding. Putting the case fairly and squarely, Norah hadto admit that it looked black against the Hermit. 

Against it, what had she? No proof; only a remembrance of two honesteyes looking sadly at her; of a face that had irresistibly drawn herconfidence and friendship; of a voice whose tones had seemed to echosincerity and kindness. It was absolutely beyond Norah's power tobelieve that the hand that had held hers so gently could have been theone to strike to death an unsuspecting mate. Her whole nature revoltedagainst the thought that her friend could be so base. 

"He was in trouble, " Norah said, over and over again, in her uneasymind; "he was unhappy. But I know he wasn't wicked. Why, Bobs madefriends with him!"

The thought put fresh confidence in her mind; Bobs always knew "a goodsort. "

"I won't say anything, " she decided at last, as they wheeled round thecorner of the homestead. "If they knew there was a tall old man there, they'd go and hunt him out, and annoy him horribly. I know he's allright. I'll hold my tongue about him altogether--even to Dad. "

The coach dropped Mr. Linton next day at the Cross Roads, where a littlefigure, clad in white linen, sat in the buggy, holding the brown ponies, while the dusky Billy was an attendant sprite on his piebald mare. 

"Well, my little girl, it's good to see you again, " Mr. Linton said, putting his Gladstone bag into the buggy and receiving undismayed asmall avalanche of little daughter upon his neck. "Steady, dear--mindthe ponies. " He jumped in, and put his arm round her. "Everything well?"

"Yes, all right, Daddy. I'm so glad to have you back!"

"Not gladder than I am to get back, my little lass, " said her father. "Good-day, Billy. Let 'em go, Norah. "

"Did you see Jim?" asked Norah, as the ponies bounded forward. 

"No--missed him. I had only an hour in town, and went out to the school, to find Master Jim had gone down the river--rowing practice. I was sorryto miss him; but it wasn't worth waiting another day in town. "

"Jim would be sorry, " said Norah thoughtfully. She herself was ratherglad: had Jim seen his father, most probably he would have mentioned theHermit. Now she had only his letters to fear, and as Jim's letters wereof the briefest nature and very far apart, it was not an acute danger. 

"Yes, I suppose he would, " Mr. Linton replied. "I regretted not havingsent a telegram to say I was going to the school--it slipped my memory. I had rather a rush, you know. I suppose you've been pretty dull, mygirlie?"

"Oh it was horrid after the boys went, " Norah said. "I didn't know whatto do with myself, and the house was terribly quiet. It was hard luckthat you had to go away too. "

"Yes, I was very sorry it happened so, " her father said; "had we beenalone together I'd have taken you with me, but we'll have the trip someother time. Did you have a good day's fishing on Saturday?"

"Yes, " said Norah, flushing a little guiltily--the natural impulse totell all about their friend the Hermit was so strong. "We had a lovelyday, and caught ever so many fish--didn't get home till ever so late. The only bad part was finding you away when we got back. "

"Well, I'm glad you had good luck, at any rate, " Mr. Linton said. "SoAnglers' Bend is keeping up its reputation, eh? We'll have to go outthere, I think, Norah; what do you say about it? Would you and Billylike a three days' jaunt on fishing bent?"

"Oh, it would be glorious, Daddy! Camping out?"

"Well, of course--since we'd be away three days. In this weather itwould be a very good thing to do, I think. "

"You are a blessed Daddy, " declared his daughter rubbing her cheekagainst his shoulder. "I never knew anyone with such beautiful ideas. "She jigged on her seat with delight. "Oh, and, Daddy, I'll be able toput you on to such a splendid new hole for fishing!"

"Will you, indeed?" said Mr. Linton, smiling at the flushed face. "That's good, dear. But how did you discover it?"

Norah's face fell suddenly. She hesitated and looked uncomfortable. 

"Oh, " she said slowly; "I--we--found it out last trip. "

"Well, we'll go, Norah--as soon as I can fix it up, " said her father. "And now, have you heard anything about the Winfield murderer?"

"Not a thing, Daddy. Brownie thinks it's just a yarn that he was seenabout here. "

"Oh, I don't think so at all, " Mr. Linton said. "A good many people havethe idea, at any rate--of course they may be wrong. I'm afraid Brownieis rather too ready to form wild opinions on some matters. To tell thetruth, I was rather worried at the reports--I don't fancy the notion ofescaped gentry of that kind wandering round in the vicinity of my smalldaughter. "

"Well, I don't think you need have worried, " said Norah, laughing up athim; "but all the same, I'm not a bit sorry you did, if it brought youhome a day earlier, Dad!"

"Well, it certainly did, " said Mr. Linton, pulling her ear; "but I'm notsorry either. I can't stand more than a day or two in town. As for themurderer, I'm not going to waste any thought on him now that I am here. There's the gate, and here comes Billy like a whirlwind to open it. "

They bowled through the gate and up the long drive, under the archingboughs of the big gum trees, that formed a natural avenue on each side. At the garden gate Mrs. Brown stood waiting, with a broad smile ofwelcome, and a chorus of barks testified to the arrival of sundry dogs. "It's a real home-coming, " Mr. Linton said as he walked up the path, hishand on Norah's shoulder--and the little girl's answering smile neededno words. They turned the corner by the big rose bush, and came withinview of the house, and suddenly Norah's smile faded. A trooper in dustyuniform stood on the doorstep. 

"Why, that's a pleasant object to greet a man, " Mr. Linton said, as thepoliceman turned and came to meet him with a civil salute. He nodded asthe man came up. "Did you want me?"

"It's only about this 'ere murderer, sir, " said the trooper. "Some of usis on a sort of a scent, but we haven't got fairly on to his tracks yet. I've ridden from Mulgoa to-day, and I came to ask if your people hadseen anything of such a chap passing--as a swaggie or anything?"

"Not that I know of, " said Mr. Linton. "What is he like?"

"Big fellow--old--plenty of white hair and beard, though, of course, they're probably cut off by this time. Very decent-looking old chap, "said the trooper reflectively--"an' a good way of speakin'. "

"Well, I've seen no such man, " said Mr. Linton decidedly--"of course, though, I don't see all the 'travellers' who call. Perhaps Mrs. Browncan help you. "

"Not me sir, " said Mrs. Brown, with firmness. "There ain't been no sucha person--and you may be sure there ain't none I don't see! Fact is, when I saw as 'ow the murderer was supposed to be in this districk, Imade inquiries amongst the men--the white hands, that is--and none ofthem had seen any such man as the papers described. I reckon 'e may justas well be in any other districk as this--I s'pose the poor p'lice mustsay 'e's somewheres!"

She glared defiantly at the downcast trooper. 

"Wish you had the job of findin' him, mum, " said that individual. "Well, sir, there's no one else I could make inquiries of, is there?"

"Mrs. Brown seems to have gone the rounds, " Mr. Linton said. "I reallydon't think there's any one else--unless my small daughter here can helpyou, " he added laughingly. 

But Norah had slipped away, foreseeing possible questioning. 

The trooper smiled. 

"Don't think I need worry such a small witness, " he said. "No, I'll justmove on, Mr. Linton. I'm beginning to think I'm on a wild-goose chase. "

CHAPTER XIII. THE CIRCUS

The days went by, but no further word of the Winfield murderer came tothe anxious ears of the little girl at Billabong homestead. Norah neverread the papers, and could not therefore satisfy her mind by theirreports; but all her inquiries were met by the same reply, "Nothingfresh. " The police were still in the district--so much she knew, forshe had caught glimpses of them when out riding with her father. Thestern-looking men in dusty uniforms were unusual figures in those quietparts. But Norah could not manage to discover if they had searched thescrub that hid the Hermit's simple camp; and the mystery of theWinfield murder seemed as far from being cleared up as ever. 

Meanwhile there was plenty to distract her mind from such disquietingmatters. The station work happened to be particularly engrossing justthen, and day after day saw Norah in the saddle, close to her father'sbig black mare, riding over hills and plains, bringing up the slow sheepor galloping gloriously after cattle that declined to be mustered. Therewere visits of inspection to be made to the farthest portions of therun, and busy days in the yards, when the men worked at drafting thestock, and Norah sat perched on the high "cap" of a fence and, watchingwith all her eager little soul in her eyes, wished heartily that she hadbeen born a boy. Then there were a couple of trips with Mr. Linton tooutlying townships, and on one of these occasions Norah had a piece ofmarvellous luck, for there was actually a circus in Cunjee--a real, magnificent circus, with lions and tigers and hyaenas, and a camel, andother beautiful animals, and, best of all, a splendid elephant of meekand mild demeanour. It was the elephant that broke up Norah's calmness. 

"Oh, Daddy!" she said. "Daddy! Oh, can't we stay?"

Mr. Linton laughed. 

"I was expecting that, " he said. "Stay? And what would Brownie bethinking?"

Norah's face fell. 

"Oh, " she said. "I'd forgotten Brownie. I s'pose it wouldn't do. Butisn't it a glorious elephant, Daddy?"

"It is, indeed, " said Mr. Linton, laughing. "I think it's too gloriousto leave, girlie. Fact is, I had an inkling the circus was to be here, so I told Brownie not to expect us until she saw us. She put a basket inthe buggy, with your tooth-brush, I think. "

The face of his small daughter was sufficient reward. 

"Daddy!" she said. "Oh, but you are the MOST Daddy!" Words failed her atthat point. 

Norah said that it was a most wonderful "spree. " They had dinner at thehotel, where the waiter called her "Miss Linton, " and in all waysbehaved precisely as if she were grown up, and after dinner she and herfather sat on the balcony while Mr. Linton smoked and Norah watched thepopulation arriving to attend the circus. They came from allquarters--comfortable old farm wagons, containing whole families; a fewsmart buggies; but the majority came on horseback, old as well as young. The girls rode in their dresses, or else had slipped on habit skirtsover their gayer attire, with great indifference as to whether ithappened to be crushed, and they had huge hats, trimmed with all thecolours of the rainbow. Norah did not know much about dress, but itseemed to her theirs was queer. But one and all looked so happy andexcited that dress was the last thing that mattered. 

It seemed to Norah a long while before Mr. Linton shook the ashes fromhis pipe deliberately and pulled out his watch. She was inwardly dancingwith impatience. 

"Half-past seven, " remarked her father, shutting up his watch with aclick. "Well, I suppose we'd better go, Norah. All ready, dear?"

"Yes, Daddy. Must I wear gloves?"

"Why, not that I know of, " said her father, looking puzzled. "Hardlynecessary, I think. I don't wear 'em. Do you want to?"

"Goodness--no!" said his daughter hastily. 

"Well, that's all right, " said Mr. Linton. "Stow them in my pocket andcome along. "

Out in the street there were unusual signs of bustle. People werehurrying along the footpath. The blare of brass instruments came fromthe big circus tent, round which was lingering every small boy of Cunjeewho could not gain admission. Horses were tied to adjoining fences, considerably disquieted by the brazen strains of the band. It was verycheerful and inspiring, and Norah capered gently as she trotted along byher father. 

Mr. Linton gave up his tickets at the first tent, and they passed in toview the menagerie--a queer collection, but wonderful enough in the eyesof Cunjee. The big elephant held pride of place, as he stood in hiscorner and sleepily waved his trunk at the aggravating flies. Norahloved him from the first, and in a moment was stroking his trunk, somewhat to her father's anxiety. 

"I hope he's safe?" he asked an attendant. 

"Bless you, yes, sir, " said that worthy, resplendent in dingy scarletuniform. "He alwuz knows if people ain't afraid of him. Try him withthis, missy. " "This" was an apple, and Jumbo deigned to accept it atNorah's hands, and crunched it serenely. 

"He's just dear, " said Norah, parting reluctantly from the huge swayingbrute and giving him a final pat as she went. 

"Better than Bobs?" asked her father. 

"Pooh!" said Norah loftily. "What's this rum thing?"

"A wildebeest, " read her father. "He doesn't look like it. "

"Pretty tame beast, I think, " Norah observed, surveying thestolid-looking animal before her. "Show me something really wild, Daddy. "

"How about this chap?" asked Mr. Linton. 

They were before the tiger's cage, and the big yellow brute was walkingup and down with long stealthy strides, his great eyes roving over thecurious faces in front of him. Some one poked a stick at him--anattention which met an instant roar and spring on the tiger's part, anda quick, and stinging rebuke from an attendant, before which the pokerof the stick fled precipitately. The crowd, which had jumped back as oneman, pressed nearer to the cage, and the tiger resumed his quick, silentprowl. But his eyes no longer roved over the faces. They remained fixedupon the man who had provoked him. 

"How do you like him?" Mr. Linton asked his daughter. 

Norah hesitated. 

"He's not nice, of course, " she said. "But I'm so awfully sorry for him, aren't you, Daddy? It does seem horrible--a great, splendid thing likethat shut up for always in that little box of a cage. You feel he reallyought to have a great stretch of jungle to roam in. "

"And eat men in? I think he's better where he is. "

"Well, you'd think the world was big enough for him to have a placeapart from men altogether, " said Norah, holding to her point sturdily. "Somewhere that isn't much wanted--a sandy desert, or a spare Alp! Thisdoesn't seem right, somehow. I think I've seen enough animals, Daddy, and it's smelly here. Let's go into the circus. "

The circus tent was fairly crowded as Norah and her father made theirway in and took the seats reserved for them, under the direction ofanother official in dingy scarlet. Round the ring the tiers of seatsrose abruptly, each tier a mass of eager, interested faces. A lameseller of fruit and drinks hobbled about crying his wares; at intervalscame the "pop" of a lemonade bottle, and there was a steady crunching ofpeanut shells. The scent of orange peel rose over the circus smell--thatweird compound of animal and sawdust and acetylene lamps. In the midstof all was the ring, with its surface banked up towards the outer edge. 

They had hardly taken their seats when the band suddenly struck up inits perch near the entrance, and the company entered to the inspiringstrains. First came the elephant, very lazy and stately--gorgeouslycaparisoned now, with a gaily attired "mahout" upon his neck. Behind himcame the camel; and the cages with the other occupants of the menagerie, looking either bored or fierce. They circled round the ring and thenfiled out. 

The band struck up a fresh strain and in cantered a lovely lady on achestnut horse. She wore a scarlet hat and habit, and looked to Norahvery like a Christmas card. Round the ring she dashed gaily, and behindher came another lady equally beautiful in a green habit, on a blackhorse; and a third, wearing a habit of pale blue plush who managed apiebald horse. Then came some girls in bright frocks, on beautifulponies; and some boys, in tights, on other ponies; and then men, also intights of every colour in the rainbow, who rode round with boredexpressions, as if it were really too slow a thing merely to sit on ahorse's back, instead of pirouetting there upon one foot. They flashedround once or twice and were gone, and Norah sat back and gasped, feeling that she had had a glimpse into another world--as indeed shehad. 

A little figure whirled into the ring--a tiny girl on a jet-black pony. She was sitting sideways at first, but as the pony settled into itsstride round the ring she suddenly leaped to her feet and, standingpoised, kissed her hands gaily to the audience. Then she capered firston one foot, then on another; she sat down, facing the tail, and layflat along the pony's back; she assumed every position except thenatural one. She leapt to the ground (to Norah's intense horror, whoimagined she didn't mean to), and, running fiercely at the pony, sprangon his back again, while he galloped the harder. Lastly, she dropped ahandkerchief, which she easily recovered by the simple expedient ofhanging head downwards, suspended by one foot, and then galloped out ofthe ring, amid the frantic applause of Cunjee. 

"Could you do that, Norah?" laughed Mr. Linton. 

"Me?" said Norah amazedly; "me? Oh, fancy me ever thinking I could ridea bit!"

One of the lovely ladies, in a glistening suit of black, covered withspangles, next entered. She also preferred to ride standing, but was byno means idle. A gentleman in the ring obligingly handed her up manynecessaries--plates and saucers and knives--and she threw these aboutthe air, as she galloped with great apparent carelessness, yet neverfailed to catch each just as it seemed certain to fall. Tiring of thispursuit, she flung them all back at the gentleman with deadly aim, whilehe, resenting nothing, caught them cleverly, and disposed of them to aclown who stood by, open-mouthed. Then the gentleman hung bright ribbonsacross the ring, apparently with the unpleasant intention of sweepingthe lady from her horse--an intention which she frustrated by lightlyleaping over each in turn, while her horse galloped beneath it. Finally, the gentleman--whose ideas really seemed most unfriendly--suddenlyconfronted her with a great paper-covered hoop, the very sight of whichwould have made an ordinary horse shy wildly--but even at this obstaclethe lady did not lose courage. Instead, she leaped straight through thehoop, paper and all, and was carried out by her faithful steed, amidstyells of applause. 

Norah gasped. 

"Oh, isn't it perfectly lovely, Daddy!" she said. 

Perhaps you boys and girls who live in cities, or near townships wheretravelling companies pay yearly visits, can have no idea of what thisfirst circus meant to this little bush maid, who had lived all hertwelve years without seeing anything half so wonderful. Perhaps, too, you are lucky to have so many chances of seeing things--but it issomething to possess nowadays, even at twelve, the unspoiled, fresh mindthat Norah brought to her first circus. 

Everything was absolutely real to her. The clown was a being almost toogood for this world, seeing that his whole time was spent in makingpeople laugh uproariously, and that he was so wonderfully unselfish inthe way he allowed himself to be kicked and knocked about--alwayslanding in positions so excruciatingly droll that you quite forgot toask if he were hurt. All the ladies who galloped round the ring, anddid such marvellous things, treating a mettled steed as though he wereas motionless as a kitchen table, seemed to Norah models of beauty andgrace. There was one who set her heart beating by her daring, for shenot only leaped through a paper-covered hoop, but through three, oneafter the other, and then--marvel of marvels--through one on which thepaper was alight and blazing fiercely! Norah held her breath, expectingto see her scorched and smouldering at the very least; but the heroicrider galloped on, without seeming so much as singed. Almost aswonderful was the total indifference of the horses to the strangesights around them. 

"Bobs would be off his head!" said Norah. 

She was especially enchanted with a small boy and girl who rode in onthe same brown pony, and had all sorts of capers, as much off the pony'sback as upon it. Not that it troubled them to be off, because theysimply ran, together, at the pony, and landed simultaneously, standingon his back, while the gallant steed galloped the more furiously. Theyhung head downwards while the pony jumped over hurdles, to their greatapparent danger; they even wrestled, standing, and the girl pitched theboy off to the accompaniment of loud strains from the band and wildcheers from Cunjee. Not that the boy minded--he picked himself up andraced the pony desperately round the ring--the girl standing andshrieking encouragement, the pony racing, the boy scudding in front, until he suddenly turned and bolted out of the ring, the pony followingat his heels, but never quite catching him--so that the boy really won, after all, which Norah thought was quite as it should be. 

Then there were the acrobats--accomplished men in tight clothes--who cutthe most amazing somersaults, and seemed to regard no object as toogreat to be leaped over. They brought in the horses, and stood ever somany of them together, backed up by the elephant, and the leadingacrobat jumped over them all without any apparent effort. After whichall the horses galloped off of their own accord, and "put themselvesaway" without giving anyone any trouble. Then the acrobats were hauledup into the top of the tent, where they swung themselves from rope torope, and somersaulted through space; and one man hung head downwards, and caught by the hands another who came flying through the air as if hebelonged there. Once he missed the outstretched hands, and Norah gaspedexpecting to see him terribly hurt--instead of which he fell harmlesslyinto a big net thoughtfully spread for his reception, and rebounded likea tennis ball, kissing his hand gracefully to the audience, after whichhe again whirled through the air, and this time landed safely in thehands of the hanging man, who had all this while seemed just ascomfortable head downwards as any other way. There was even a little boywho swung himself about the tent as fearlessly as the grown men, and cutcapers almost as dangerous as theirs. Norah couldn't help breathing morefreely when the acrobats bowed their final farewell. 

Mr. Linton consulted his programme. 

"They're bringing in the lion next, " he said. 

The band struck up the liveliest of tunes. All the ring was cleared now, except for the clown, who suddenly assumed an appearance of greatsolemnity. He marched to the edge of the ring and struck an attitudeindicative of profound respect. 

In came the elephant, lightly harnessed, and drawing a huge cage onwheels. On other sides marched attendants in special uniforms, and onthe elephant's back stood the lion tamer, all glorious in scarlet andgold, so that he was almost hurtful to the eye. In the cage three lionspaced ceaselessly up and down. The band blared. The people clapped. Theclown bowed his forehead into the dust and said feelingly, "Wow!"

Beside the ring was another, more like a huge iron safe than a ring, asit was completely walled and roofed with iron bars. The cage was drawnup close beside this, and the doors slid back. The lions needed nofurther invitation. They gave smothered growls as they leaped from theirclose quarters into this larger breathing space. Then another door wasopened stealthily, and the lion tamer slipped in, armed with no weaponmore deadly than a heavy whip. 

Norah did not like it. It seemed to her, to put it mildly, a riskyproceeding. Generally speaking, Norah was by no means a careful soul, and had no opinion of people who thought over much about looking aftertheir skins; but this business of lions was not exactly what she hadbeen used to. They appeared to her so hungry, and so remarkably illtempered; and the man was as one to three, and had, apparently, noadvantage in the matter of teeth and claws. 

"Don't like this game, " said the bush maiden, frowning. "Is he safe, Daddy?"

"Oh, he's all right, " her father answered, smiling. "These chaps knowhow to take care of themselves; and the lions know he's master. Watchthem Norah. "

Norah was already doing that. The lions prowling round the ring, keepingwary eyes on their tamer, were called to duty by a sharp crack of thewhip. Growling, they took their respective stations--two on the seats ofchairs, the third standing between them, poised on the two chair backs. Then they were put through a quick succession of tricks. They jumpedover chairs and ropes and each other; they raced round the ring, takinghurdles at intervals; they balanced on big wooden balls, and pushed themalong by quick changes of position. Then they leaped through hoops, ornamented with fluttering strips of paper, and clearly did not care forthe exercise. And all the while their stealthy eyes never left those ofthe tamer. 

"How do you like it?" asked Mr. Linton. 

"It's beastly!" said Norah, with surprising suddenness. "I hate it, Daddy. Such big, beautiful things, and to make them do silly tricks likethese; just as you'd train a kitten!"

"Well, they're nothing more than big cats, " laughed her father. 

"I don't care. It's--it's mean, I think. I don't wonder they're cross. And you can see they are, Daddy. If I was a lion I know I'd want to bitesomebody!"

The lions certainly did seem cross. They growled constantly, and wereslow to obey orders. The whip was always cracking, and once or twice abig lioness, who was especially sulky, received a sharp cut. The outsideattendants kept close to the cage, armed with long iron bars. Norahthought, watching them, that they were somewhat uneasy. For herself, sheknew she would be very glad when the lion "turn" was over. 

The smaller tricks were finished, and the tamer made ready for the grand"chariot act. " He dragged forward an iron chariot and to it harnessedthe smaller lions with stout straps, coupling the reins to a hook on thefront of the little vehicle. Then he signalled to the lioness to takeher place as driver. 

The lioness did not move. She crouched down, watching him with hungry, savage eyes. The trainer took a step forward, raising his whip. 

"You--Queen!" he said sharply. 

She growled, not stirring. A sudden movement of the lions behind himmade the trainer glance round quickly. 

There was a roar, and a yellow streak cleft the air. A child's voicescreamed. The tamer's spring aside was too late, He went down on hisface, the lioness upon him. 

Norah's cry rang out over the circus, just as the lioness sprang--toolate for the trainer, however. The girl was on her feet, clutching herfather. 

"Oh, Daddy--Daddy!" she said. 

All was wildest confusion. Men were shouting, women screaming--two girlsfainted, slipping down, motionless, unnoticed heaps, from their seats. Circus men yelled contradictory orders. Within the ring the lionesscrouched over the fallen man, her angry eyes roving about the disorderedtent. 

The two lions in the chariot were making furious attempts to break away. Luckily their harness was strong, and they were so close to the edge ofthe ring that the attendants were able, with their iron bars, to keepthem in check. After a few blows they settled down, growling, butsubdued. 

But to rescue the trainer was not so easy a matter. He lay in the verycentre of the ring, beyond the reach of any weapons; and not a man wouldventure within the great cage. The attendants shouted at the lioness, brandished irons, cracked whips. She heard them unmoved. Once sheshifted her position slightly and a moan came from the man underneath. 

"This is awful, " Mr. Linton said. He left his seat in the front row andwent across the ring to the group of white-faced men. "Can't you shootthe brute?" he asked. 

"We'd do it in a minute, " the proprietor answered. "But who'd shoot andtake the chance of hitting Joe? Look at the way they are--it's ten toone he'd get hit. " He shook his head. "Well, I guess it's up to me to goin and tackle her--I'd get a better shot inside the ring. " He movedforward. 

A white-faced woman flung herself upon him and clung to him desperately. Norah hardly recognised her as the gay lady who had so merrily jumpedthrough the burning hoops a little while ago. "You shan't go, Dave!" shecried, sobbing. "You mustn't! Think of the kiddies! Joe hasn't got awife and little uns. "

The circus proprietor tried to loosen her hold. "I've got to, my girl, "he said gently. "I can't leave a man o' mine to that brute. It's myfault--I orter known better than to let him take her from them cubsto-night. Let go, dear. " He tried to unclinch her hands from his coat. 

"Has she--the lioness--got little cubs?"

It was Norah's voice, and Mr. Linton started to find her at his side. Norah, very pale and shaky, with wide eyes, glowing with a great idea. 

The circus man nodded. "Two. "

"Wouldn't she--" Norah's voice was trembling almost beyond the power ofspeech--"wouldn't she go to them if you showed them to her--put them inthe small cage? My--old cat would!"

"By the powers!" said the proprietor. "Fetch 'em, Dick--run. " The clownran, his grotesque draperies contrasting oddly enough with his errand. 

In an instant he was back, two fluffy yellow heaps in his arms. Onewhined as they drew near the cage, and the lioness looked up sharplywith a growl. The clown held the cubs in her view, and she growledagain, evidently uneasy. Beneath her the man was quiet now. 

"The cage--quick?"

The big lion cage, its open door communicating with the ring, stoodready. The clown opened another door and slipped in the protesting cubs. They made for the further door, but were checked by the stout cordsfastened to their collars. He held them in leash, in full view of thelioness. She growled and moved, but did not leave her prey. 

"Make 'em sing out!" the woman said sharply. Someone handed the clown aniron rod sharpened at one end. He passed it through the bars, andprodded a cub on the foot. It whined angrily, and a quick growl camefrom the ring. 

"Harder, Dick!"

The clown obeyed. There was a sharp, amazed yelp of pain from the cub, and an answering roar from the mother. Another protesting cry--and thenagain that yellow streak as the lioness left her prey and sprang to herbaby, with a deafening roar. The clown tugged the cubs sharply back intothe recesses of the cage as the mother hurled herself through the narrowopening. Behind her the bars rattled into place and she was restored tocaptivity. 

It was the work of only a moment to rush into the ring, where the tamerlay huddled and motionless. Kind hands lifted him and carried him awaybeyond the performance tent, with its eager spectators. The attendantsquickly unharnessed the two tame lions, and they were removed in anothercage, brought in by the elephant for their benefit. 

Norah slipped a hot, trembling hand into her father's. 

"Let's go, Daddy--I've had enough. "

"More than enough, I think, " said Mr. Linton. "Come on, little girl. "

They slipped out in the wake of the anxious procession that carried thetamer. As they went, a performing goat and monkey passed them on theirway to the ring, and the clown capered behind them. They heard hischeerful shout, "Here we are again!" and the laughter of the crowd asthe show was resumed. 

"Plucky chap, that clown, " Mr. Linton said. 

In the fresh air the men had laid the tamer down gently, and a doctorwas bending over him examining him by the flickering light of torchesheld by hands that found it hard to be steady. 

"Not so much damaged as he might be, " the doctor announced, rising. "That shoulder will take a bit of healing, but he looks healthy. Hispadded uniform has saved his life. Let's get him to the private hospitalup the street. Everything necessary is there, and I'd like to have hisshoulder dressed before he regains consciousness. "

The men lifted the improvised stretcher again, and passed on with it. Norah and her father were following, when a voice called them. The wifeof the circus proprietor ran after them--a strange figure enough, in herscarlet riding dress, the paint on her face streaked with tear marks. 

"I'd like to know who you are, " she said, catching Norah's hand. "Butfor you my man 'ud 'a been in the ring with that brute. None of us hadthe sense to think o' bringin' in the cubs. Tell me your name, dearie. "

Norah told her unwillingly. "Nothing to make a fuss over, " she added, ingreat confusion. 

"I guess you saved Joe's life, an' perhaps my Dave's as well, " the womansaid. "We won't forget you. Good night, sir, an' thank you both. "

Norah had no wish to be thanked, being of opinion that she had done lessthan nothing at all. She was feeling rather sick, and--amazing feelingfor Norah--inclined to cry. She was very glad to get into bed at thehotel, and eagerly welcomed her father's suggestion that he should sitfor a while in her room. Norah did not know that it was dawn before Mr. Linton left his watch by the restless sleeper, quiet now, and sought hisown couch. 

She woke late, from a dream of lions and elephants, and men who moanedsoftly. Her father was by her bedside. 

"Breakfast, lazy bones, " he said. 

"How's the tamer?" queried Norah, sitting up. 

"Getting on all right. He wants to see you. "

"Me!" said Norah. "Whatever for?"

"We've got to find that out, " said her father, withdrawing. 

They found out after breakfast, when a grateful, white-faced man, swathed in bandages, stammered broken thanks. 

"For it was you callin' out that saved me first, " he said. "I'd never 'athought to jump, but I heard you sing out to me, an' if I hadn't she'd abroke my neck, sure. An' then it was you thought o' bringing in thecubs. Well, missy, I won't forget you long's I live. "

The nurse, at his nod, brought out the skin of a young tiger, beautifully marked and made into a rug. 

"If you wouldn't mind takin' that from me, " explained the tamer. "I'dlike to feel you had it, an' I'd like to shake hands with you, missy. "

Outside the room Norah turned a flushed face to her father. 

"Do let's go home, Daddy, " she begged. "Cunjee's too embarrassing for me!"

CHAPTER XIV. CAMPING OUT

"About that fishing excursion, Norah?"

"Yes, Daddy. " A small brown paw slid itself into Mr. Linton's hand. 

They were sitting on the verandah in the stillness of an autumn evening, watching the shadows on the lawn become vague and indistinct, andfinally merge into one haze of dusk. Mr. Linton had been silent for along time. Norah always knew when her father wanted to talk. Thisevening she was content to be silent, too, leaning against his knee inher own friendly fashion as she curled up at his feet. 

"Oh, you hadn't forgotten, then?"

"Well--not much! Only I didn't know if you really wanted to go, Daddy. "

"Why, yes, " said her father. "I think it would be rather a good idea, mygirlie. There's not much doing on the place just now. I could easily bespared. And we don't want to leave our trip until the days grow shorter. The moon will be right, too. It will be full in four or five days--Iforget the exact date. So, altogether, Norah, I think we'd betterconsult Brownie about the commissariat department, and make ourarrangements to go immediately. "

"It'll be simply lovely, " said his daughter, breathing a long sigh ofdelight. "Such a long time since we had a camping out--just you and me, Daddy. "

"Yes, it's a good while. Well, we've got to make up for lost time bycatching plenty of fish, " said Mr. Linton. "I hope you haven'tforgotten the whereabouts of that fine new hole of yours? You'll haveto take me to it if Anglers' Bend doesn't come up to expectations. "

A deep flush came into Norah's face. For a little while she had almostforgotten the Hermit--or, rather, he had ceased to occupy a prominentposition in her mind, since the talk of the Winfield murder had begun todie away. The troopers, unsuccessful in their quest, had gone back toheadquarters, and Norah had breathed more freely, knowing that herfriend had escaped--this time. Still, she never felt comfortable in hermind about him. Never before had she kept any secret from her father, and the fact of this concealment was apt to come home closely to her attimes and cloud the perfect friendship between them. 

"Master Billy will be delighted, I expect, " went on Mr. Linton, notnoticing the little girl's silence. "Anything out of the ordinary grooveof civilisation is a joy to that primitive young man. I don't fancy itwould take much to make a cheerful savage of Billy. "

"Can't you fancy him!" said Norah, making an effort to break away fromher own thoughts; "roaming the bush with a boomerang and a waddy, anddressed in strips of white paint. "

"Striped indeed!" said her father, laughing. "I've no doubt he'd enjoyit. I hope his ancient instincts won't revive--he's the best hand withhorses we ever had on the station. Now, Norah, come and talk toBrownie. "

Mrs. Brown, on being consulted, saw no difficulties in the way. A day, she declared, was all she wanted to prepare sufficient food for theparty for a week--let alone for only three days. 

"Not as I'll stint you to three days, " remarked the prudent Brownie. "Last time it was to be three days--an' 'twas more like six when we sawyou again. Once you two gets away--" and she wagged a stern forefingerat her employer. "And there's that black himp--he eats enough for five!"

"You forget the fish we're going to live on, " laughed Mr. Linton. 

"'M, " said Brownie solemnly. "First catch your fish!"

"Why, of course, we mean to, you horrid old thing!" cried Norah, laughing; "and bring you home loads, too--not that you deserve it fordoubting us!"

"I have seen many fishing parties go out, Miss Norah, my dear, " saidMrs. Brown impassively, "and on the 'ole more came 'ome hempty 'andedthan bringing loads--fish bein' curious things, an' very unreliable onthe bite. Still, we'll 'ope for the best--an' meanwhile to prepare forthe worst. I'll just cook a few extry little things--another tongue, now, an' a nice piece of corned beef, an' per'aps a 'am. An' do youthink you could manage a pie or two, Miss Norah?"

"Try her!" said Mr. Linton, laughing. 

"Let's tell Billy!"--and off went Norah at a gallop. 

She returned a few minutes later, slightly crestfallen. 

"Billy must be asleep, " she said. "I couldn't get an answer. Lazy youngnigger--and it's still twilight!"

"Billy has no use for the day after the sun goes down, unless he's going'possuming, " her father said. "Never mind--the news will keep until themorning. "

"Oh, I know, " said Norah, smiling. "But I wanted to tell him to-night. "

"I sympathise with you, " said her father, "and, meanwhile, to consoleyourself, suppose you bend your mighty mind to the problem of gettingaway. Do you see any objection to our leaving for parts unknown the dayafter to-morrow?"

"Depends on Brownie and the tucker, " said Norah practically. 

"That part's all right; Brownie guarantees to have everything readyto-morrow night if you help her. "

"Why, of course I will, Daddy. "

"And you have to get your own preparations made. "

"That won't take long, " said Norah, with a grin. "Brush, comb, tooth-brush, pyjamas; that's all, Dad!"

"Such minor things as soap and towels don't appear to enter into yourcalculations, " said her father. "Well I can bear it!"

"Oh, you silly old Dad! Of course I know about those. Only Browniealways packs the ordinary, uninteresting things. "

"I foresee a busy day for you and Brownie tomorrow, " Mr. Linton said. "I'll have a laborious time myself, fixing up fishing tackle--if Jim andhis merry men left me with any. As for Billy, he will spend the daygrubbing for bait. Wherefore, everything being settled, come and play me'The Last Rose of Summer, ' and then say good-night. "

Norah was up early, and the day passed swiftly in a whirl ofpreparations. Everything was ready by evening, including a hamper ofmonumental proportions, the consumption of which, Mr. Linton said, wouldcertainly render the party unfit for active exertion in the way offishing. Billy's delight had made itself manifest in the broad grinwhich he wore all day while he dug for worms, and chased crickets andgrass-hoppers. The horses were brought in and stabled overnight, so thatan early start might be made. 

It was quite an exciting day, and Norah was positive that she could notgo to sleep when her father sent her off to bed at an unusually earlyhour, meeting her remonstrances with the reminder that she had to be upwith, or before, the lark. However, she was really tired, and was soonasleep. It seemed to her that she had only been in this blissfulcondition for three minutes when a hand was laid on her shoulder and shestarted up to find daylight had come. Mr. Linton stood laughing at hersleepy face. 

"D'you mean to say it's morning?" said Norah. 

"I've been led to believe so, " her father rejoined. "Shall I pull youout, or would you prefer to rise without assistance?"

"I'd much prefer to go to sleep again--but I'll tumble out, thank you, "said his daughter, suiting the action to the word. "Had your bath, Daddy?'

"Just going to it. "

"Then I'll race you!" said Norah, snatching a towel and disappearingdown the hall, a slender, flying figure in blue pyjamas. Mr. Linton gavechase, but Norah's start was too good, and the click of the lock greetedhim as he arrived at the door of the bathroom. The noise of the showerdrowned his laughing threats, while a small voice sang, amid splashes, "You should have been here last week!"

Breakfast was a merry meal, although, as Norah said, it was unreasonableto expect anybody to have an appetite at that hour. Still, with a viewto the future, and to avoid wounding Mrs. Brown too deeply, they made asfirm an attempt as possible, with surprisingly good results. Then briefgood-byes were said, the pack scientifically adjusted to the saddle onthe old mare, and they rode off in the cool, dewy morning. 

This time there was no "racing and chasing o'er Cannobie Lea" on the wayto Anglers' Bend. Mr. Linton's days of scurrying were over, he said, unless a bullock happened to have a difference of opinion as to the wayhe should go, and, as racing by one's self is a poor thing Norah wascontent to ride along steadily by her father's side, with only anoccasional canter, when Bobs pulled and reefed as if he were as anxiousto gallop as his young mistress could possibly be. It was time for lunchwhen they at length arrived at the well-remembered bend on the creek. 

The horses were unsaddled and hobbled, and then turned out to wander attheir own sweet will--the shortness of the hobbles a guarantee that theywould not stray very far; and the three wanderers sat on the bank of thecreek, very ready for the luncheon Mrs. Brown had carefully prepared andplaced near the top of the pack. This despatched, preparations were madefor pitching camp. 

Here luck favoured them, for a visit to their former camping placeshowed that tent poles and pegs were still there, and uninjured--whichconsiderably lessened the labour of pitching the tents. In a very shorttime the two tents were standing, and a couple of stretchers rigged upwith bags--Mr. Linton had no opinion of the comfort of sleeping on bedsof leaves. While her father and Billy were at this work, Norah unpackedthe cooking utensils and provisions. Most of the latter were encased incalico bags, which could be hung in the shade, secure from either antsor flies, the remainder, packed in tins, being stowed away easily in thecorner of one of the tents. 

When the stretchers were ready Norah unpacked the bedding and made theirbeds. Finally she hung the tooth-brushes to the ridge poles and saidcontentedly, "Daddy, it's just like home!"

"Glad you think so!" said Mr. Linton, casting an approving eye over thecomfortable-looking camp, and really there is something wonderfullyhomelike about a well-pitched camp with a few arrangements for comfort. "At any rate, I think we'll manage very well for a few days, Norah. Now, while Billy lays in a stock of firewood and fixes up a 'humpy' forhimself to sleep in, suppose you and I go down and try to catch somefish for tea?"

"Plenty!" laughed Norah. 

It soon became evident that Anglers' Bend was going to maintain its nameas a place for fish. Scarcely was Norah's line in the water before a bigblackfish was on the hook, and after that the fun was fast and furious, until they had caught enough for two or three meals. The day was idealfor fishing--grey and warm, with just enough breeze to ripple the waterfaintly. Mr. Linton and Norah found it very peaceful, sitting togetheron the old log that jutted across the stream, and the time passedquickly. Billy at length appeared, and was given the fish to prepare, and then father and daughter returned to camp. Mr. Linton lit the fire, and cutting two stout forked stakes, which he drove into the ground, oneon each side of the fire, he hung a green ti-tree pole across, inreadiness to hold the billy and frying-pan. Billy presently came up withthe fish, and soon a cheery sound of sizzling smote the evening air. Bythe time that Norah had "the table set, " as she phrased it, the fishwere ready, and in Norah's opinion no meal ever tasted half so good. 

After it was over, Billy the indispensable removed the plates and washedup, and Norah and her father sat by the fire and "yarned" in the cooldusk. Not for long, for soon the little girl began to feel sleepy afterthe full day in the open air, and the prospect of the comfortablestretcher in her tent was very tempting. She brushed her hair outside inthe moonlight, because a small tent is not the place in which to wield ahairbrush; then she slipped into bed, and her father came and tucked herup before tying the flap securely enough to keep out possible intrudersin the shape of "bears" and 'possums. Norah lay watching the flickeringfirelight for a little while, thinking there was nothing so glorious asthe open-air feeling, and the night scents of the bush; then she fellasleep. 

"Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Ho-ho-ho-ho-ho!!"

A cheeky jackass on a gum tree bough fairly roared with laughter, andNorah woke up with a violent start. The sunlight was streaming acrossher bed. For a moment she was puzzled, wondering where she was; then thewalls of the tent caught her eye, and she laughed at herself, and thenlay still in the very pleasure of the dewy morning and the wonderfulfreshness of the air. For there is a delight in awaking after a night inthe open that the finest house in the world cannot give. 

Presently the flap of the tent was parted and Mr. Linton peeped in. 

"Hallo!" he said, smiling, "did the old jackass wake you? I found him asgood as an alarum clock myself. How about a swim?"

"Oh--rather!" said Norah, tumbling out of bed. She slipped on a jacketand shoes, and presently joined her father, and they threaded their waythrough the scrub until they came to a part of the creek where a beach, flat and sandy, and shelving down to a fairly deep hole, offeredglorious bathing. Mr. Linton left Norah here, and himself went a fewyards farther up, round a bend in the creek. 

At the first plunge the water was distinctly cold, but once the firstdip was taken Norah forgot all about chilliness, and only revelled inthe delights of that big pool. She could swim like a fish--her fatherhad seen to that in the big lagoon at home. Not until Mr. Linton'swarning voice sang out that it was time to dress did she leave thewater, and then with reluctance. 

A brisk rub down with a hard towel and she rejoined her father. He castan approving look at her glowing face. 

"Well, you look as if you'd enjoyed your swim, " he said. 

"Oh it was lovely, Daddy! Did you have a good bathe?"

"Yes--I struck a very good place--deep enough to dive in, " her fatheranswered. "Not that I counsel diving altogether--you strike such a lotof mud at the bottom--soft, sticky, black mud! I spent most of my bathein getting myself clean after my dive! Still, I had a good swim, notwithstanding. I say, Norah, I'm ready for breakfast. "

"So am I, " said his daughter. "I hope Billy's got the fish on!"

However, there was no sign of the black retainer when they reached thecamp. The fire was blazing and the billy boiling, but of the other Billyno trace existed. 

"He's gone after the horses, " Mr. Linton said. "I told him to see tothem--but he ought to be back. I hope they're all right. Well, you getdressed, Norah. "

By the time Norah's toilet was completed the fish, under Mr. Linton'ssupervision, were in the pan, and she hurried to set out the breakfastthings. They were just beginning breakfast when the sound of hoofs washeard and Billy rode into the clearing on his own pony, with evidentsigns of perturbation on his ebony face. 

"What's up, Billy?" Mr. Linton asked sharply. 

"That feller pack-mare, " Billy said briefly. "Broken hobbles--clear out. Plenty!" He produced a hobble as he spoke, the broken leather tellingits own tale. 

Mr. Linton uttered an exclamation of anger. 

"That comes of not seeing to the hobbles myself, " he said sharply. "Nosign of her?"

Billy shook his head. 

"Not likely, " Mr. Linton said; "that old mare would make for home like ashot. I dare say she's half-way there by now. Well, Billy, there's onlyone thing to do--get your pony saddled and go after her. "

Billy's face expressed unuttered depths of woe. 

"Get your breakfast first, " said his master; "there's no particularhurry, for you're bound to have to go all the way home--and bring somegood hobbles back with you, if you do!"

Billy slid to the ground. 

"Plenty!" he said ruefully. 

Billy, a black vision of despondency, had faded away into the distance, making his chestnut pony pay for the disappointment of his long rideback to the homestead for the missing mare. Norah and her father had"cleaned up house, " as Norah put it, and again they were sitting on theold log that spanned the creek. 

Their lines were in water, but the fish were shy. The promise of a hotday had driven them to the shady hollows under the banks. The juiciestworms failed to lure them from their hiding-places. Norah thought itdull and said so. 

Her father laughed. 

"You'll never make a fisherman without cultivating an extra stock ofpatience, " he said. "The thought of last night's luck ought to make youhappy. "

"Well, it doesn't, " his daughter answered decidedly. "That wasyesterday, and this is to-day; and it is dull, Daddy, anyhow. "

"Well, keep on hoping, " said Mr. Linton; "luck may change at any minute. Norah, do you know, I have something to tell you?"

"What?" Norah's dullness was gone. There was something unusual in herfather's tone. 

"I'm afraid you won't think it the best news, " he said, smiling at hereager face. "But it had to come some day, I suppose. I couldn't keep youa baby always. There's a tutor coming to make a learned lady of mylittle bush maid. "

"Daddy!" There were worlds of horror in the tone. 

"Oh, don't!" said her father. "You make me feel a criminal of thedeepest dye. What can I do with you, you ignorant small child? I can'tlet you grow up altogether a bush duffer, dear. " His voice was almostapologetic. "I can assure you it might have been worse. Your Aunt Evahas been harrowing my very soul to make me send you to a boardingschool. Think of that now!"

"Boarding school!" said Norah faintly. "Daddy, you wouldn't?"

"No--not at present, certainly, " said her father. "But I had to agree tosomething--and, really, I knew it was time. You're twelve, you know, Norah. Be reasonable. "

"Oh, all right, " said Norah, swallowing her disgust. "If you say it'sgot to be, it has to be, that's all, Daddy. My goodness, how I will hateit! Have I got to learn heaps of things?"

"Loads, " said her father, nodding; "Latin, and French, and drawing, andgeography, and how to talk grammar, and any number of things I neverknew. Then you can teach the tutor things--riding, and cooking, andknitting, and the care of tame wallabies, and any number of things henever dreamed of. He's a town young man, Norah, and horribly ignorant ofall useful arts. "

"I'll turn him over to Billy after school, " said Norah laughing. "Is henice, Dad?"

"Very, I should say, " rejoined her father. "He's the son of an oldfriend"--and his face saddened imperceptibly. "Your Aunt Eva said itought to be a governess, and perhaps it would have been one only youngStephenson came in my way. He wanted something to do, and for hisfather's sake I chose him for my daughter's instructor. "

"Who's his father, Daddy?"

"Well, you wouldn't know if I told you, girlie. A dear old friend ofmine when I was a young man--the best friend I ever had. Jim is namedafter him. "

"Is he dead now?"

Mr. Linton hesitated. 

"We lost him years ago, " he said sadly. "A great trouble came uponhim--he lost some money, and was falsely accused of dishonesty, and hehad to go to prison. When he came out his wife refused to see him; theyhad made her believe him a thief, and she was a hard woman, although sheloved him. She sent him a message that he must never try to see her ortheir boy. "

"She was cruel. " Norah's eyes were angry. 

"She was very unhappy, so we mustn't judge her, " her father said, sighing. "Poor soul, she paid for her harshness. Later the truth of thewhole bad business came out, and she would have given the world to beable to beg his forgiveness-only it was too late. "

"Was he dead, Daddy?"

"They found his body in the river, " said Mr. Linton. "Poor old chap, hecouldn't stand the loss of his whole world. I've wished ever since thatI could tell him I never believed the lie for a moment. I was in Englandat the time, and I knew nothing about it until he was dead. "

"Poor old Daddy, " said Norah softly. 

"Oh, it's an old story, now, " Mr. Linton said. "Only I never lose theregret--and wish that I could have done something to help my old friend. I don't quite know why I've told you about it, except that I want you tobe kind to young Dick Stephenson, because his life has been a sad enoughone. "

"Is his mother alive?"

"She lives in Melbourne, " said her father. "I think she only lives forthis boy, and the time when she can go to her husband and beg hisforgiveness. He'll give it, too--poor old Jim. He could never bearmalice in his life, and I'm certain death couldn't change his nature. The lad seems a good chap; he's had a first-rate education. But hismother never gave him any profession; I don't know why. Women aren'tmade for business. So he wants to teach. "

"I'll be good to him, Daddy. " Norah slipped her hand into her father's. 

"That's my little girl. I knew I could depend on you, " said Mr. Linton. A far-away look came into his eyes, and he pulled hard at his pipe. Norah guessed he was thinking of days of long ago. 

She pulled her bait up, and examination told her it was untouched. Thefish were certainly shy, and another half-hour's tempting did not bringthem to the hook. It was exceedingly dull. Norah wound up her lineslowly. She also had been thinking. 

"I'm going for a walk, Daddy, " she said. 

"All right, dear; don't go far, " said her father absently. 

Norah walked soberly along the log until she reached the creek bank, andthen jumped ashore. She looked round at her father, but he was absorbedin his fishing and his thoughts, and so the little girl slipped awayinto the bush. She made her way among the trees quickly, keeping to theline of the creek. Presently she sat down on a moss-grown stump andthought deeply. 

The Hermit had been pretty constantly in Norah's mind since the troopershad been scouring the district in their search for the Winfieldmurderer. She had longed intensely to warn him--scenting certainunpleasantness to him, and possible danger, although she was loyallyfirm in the belief that he could not be the man for whom they weresearching. Still, how like the description was! Even though Norah'sfaith was unshaken, she knew that the veriest hint of the Hermit'sexistence would bring the troopers down on him as fast as they couldtravel to his camp. She put aside resolutely the thoughts that flockedto her mind--the strange old man's lonely life, his desire to hidehimself from his fellow-men. 

"I don't understand it a bit, " she said aloud. "But I'll have to tellhim. He ought to know. "

With that she sprang up and ran on through the scrub. It was thickenough to puzzle many a traveller, but the little maid of the bush sawno difficulties in the way. It was quite clear to her, remembering howthe Hermit had guided their merry party on the first visit, weeks ago. At the exact spot on the creek she struck off at right angles into theheart of the trees, keeping a sharp lookout for the tall old form thatmight appear at any moment--hoping that her father might not grow tiredof fishing and coo-ee for her to return. 

But there was silence in the bush, and no sign of the Hermit could beseen. The thought came to Norah that he might have struck camp, and gonefarther back into the wild country, away from the men he dreaded. Butshe put the idea from her. Somehow she felt that he was there. 

She came to the clump of dogwood that hid the old log along which laythe last part of the track to the Hermit's camp and, climbing up, ranalong it lightly. There were no recent footprints upon it. Suddenly thesilence of the surroundings fell heavily on her heart. 

Reaching the end of the log that gave access to the clearing, she took ahasty glance round. The ashes of the fire were long dead. No one wasthere. 

Norah's heart thumped heavily. For a moment she fought with the longingto run back--back from this strange, silent place--back to Daddy. Thenshe gulped down something in her throat, and giving herself an impatientshake, she went resolutely across the clearing to the tent and peepedin. 

The interior of the tent was as neat and homelike as when Norah had seenit first. The quaint bits of furniture stood in their places, and theskins lay on the floor. But Norah saw nothing but her friend's face. 

The Hermit was lying on his bunk--a splendid old figure in his dress ofsoft furry skins, but with a certain helplessness about him that broughtNorah's heart into her mouth. As the flap of the tent lifted he turnedhis head with difficulty, and looked at the little girl with weary, burning eyes that held no light of recognition. His face was ghastlywhite beneath the sunburnt skin, which was drawn like parchment over thecheekbones. A low moan came from his dry lips. 

"Water!"

Norah cast a despairing glance around. An empty billy by the old mantold its own tale, and a hurried search in the camp only revealed emptyvessels. 

"I'll be back in a minute, " said Norah, sobbing. 

Afterwards she could not remember how she had got down to the creek. Herblouse was torn, and there were long scratches on her wrists, and shewas panting, as she came back to the sick man, and, struggling to raisehis heavy head, held a cup to his lips. He drank fiercely, desperately, as Norah had seen starving cattle drink when released after a longjourney in the trucks. Again and again he drank--until Norah grew afraidand begged him to lie down. He obeyed her meekly and smiled a little, but there was no comprehension in the fevered eyes. She put her hand onhis forehead and started at its burning heat. 

"Oh, what'll I do with you!" she said in her perplexity. 

"Do?" said the Hermit with startling suddenness. "But I'm dead!" Heclosed his eyes and lay very still. "Dead--ages ago!" He muttered. Asecond he lay so, and then he turned and looked at her. "Where's thechild?" he asked. "I must go to him; let me go, I tell you!" He tried torise, but fell back weakly. "Water!" he begged. 

She gave him water again, and then bathed his face and hands, using herhandkerchief for a sponge. He grew quieter, and once or twice Norahthought he seemed to know her; but at the end he closed his eyes and laymotionless. 

"I'll be back very soon, " she said. "Do please be still, dear Mr. Hermit!" She bent over him and kissed his forehead, and he stirred andmurmured a name she could not catch. Then he relapsed intounconsciousness, and Norah turned and ran wildly into the scrub. 

To bring Daddy--Daddy, who knew everything, who always understood! Therewas no other thought in her mind now. Whatever the Hermit might havedone, he needed help now most sorely--and Daddy was the only one whocould give it. Only the way seemed long as she raced through the trees, seeing always that haggard, pain-wrung face on the rude bunk. If onlythey were in time!

Mr. Linton, sitting on the log and lazily watching his idle float, started at the voice that called to him from the bank; and at sight ofthe little girl be leaped to his feet and ran towards her. 

"Norah! What is it?"

She told him, clinging to him and sobbing; tugging at him all the timeto make him come quickly. A strange enough tale it seemed to Mr. Linton--of hermits and hidden camps, and the Winfield murderer, andsomeone who needed help, --but there was that in Norah's face and in herunfamiliar emotion that made him hurry through the scrub beside her, although he did not understand what he was to find, and was onlyconscious of immense relief to know that she herself was safe, after themoment of terror that her first cry had given him. Norah steadiedherself with a great effort, as they came to the silent camp. 

"He's there, " she said, pointing. 

Mr. Linton understood something then, and he went forward quickly. TheHermit was still unconscious. His hollow eyes met them blankly as theyentered the tent. 

"Oh, he's ill, Daddy! Will he die?"

But David Linton did not answer. He was staring at the unconscious facebefore him, and his own was strangely white. As Norah looked at him, struck with a sudden wonder, her father fell on his knees and caught thesick man's hand. 

"Jim!" he said, and a sob choked his voice. "Old chum--Jim!"

CHAPTER XV. FOR FRIENDSHIP

"Daddy!"

At the quivering voice her father lifted his head and Norah saw that hiseyes were wet. 

"It's my dear old friend Stephenson, " he said brokenly. "I told youabout him. We thought he was dead--there was the body; I don'tunderstand, but this is he, and he's alive, thank God!"

The Hermit stirred and begged again for water, and Mr. Linton held himwhile he drank. His face grew anxious as he felt the scorching heat ofthe old man's body. 

"He's so thirsty, " Norah said tremulously, "goodness knows when he'd hada drink. His poor lips were all black and cracked when I found him. "

"Had he no water near him?" asked her father, quickly. "You got this?"

"Yes, from the creek, " Norah nodded. "I'll get some more, Daddy; thebilly's nearly empty. "

When Norah returned, laden with two cans, her father met her with a verygrave face. 

"That's my girl, " he said, taking the water from her. "Norah, I'm afraidhe's very ill. It looks uncommonly like typhoid. "

"Will he--will he die, Daddy?"

"I can't tell, dear. What's bothering me is how to get help for him. Hewants a doctor immediately--wants a dozen things I haven't got here. Iwish that blessed black boy hadn't gone! I don't quite know what todo--I can't leave you here while I get help--he's half delirious now. "

"You must let me go, " said Norah quietly. "I can--easily. "

"You!" said her father, looking down at the steady face. "That won't do, dear--not across fifteen miles of lonely country. I--" The Hermit criedout suddenly, and tried to rise, and Mr. Linton had to hold him downgently, but the struggle was a painful one, and when it was over thestrong man's brow was wet. "Poor old chap!" he muttered brokenly. 

Norah caught his arm. 

"You see, I must go, Daddy, " she said. "There's no one else--and he'lldie! Truly I can, Daddy--quite well. Bobs'll look after me. "

"Can you?" he said, looking down at her. "You're sure you know thetrack?"

"Course I can, " said his daughter scornfully. 

"I don't see anything for it, " Mr. Linton said, an anxious frownknitting his brow. "His life hangs on getting help, and there's no otherway, I'll have to risk you, my little girl. "

"There's no risk, " said Norah. "Don't you worry, Daddy, dear. Just tellme what you want. "

Mr. Linton was writing hurriedly in his pocket-book. 

"Send into Cunjee for Dr. Anderson as hard as a man can travel, " he saidshortly. "Don't wait for him, however; get Mrs. Brown to pack thesethings from my medicine-chest, and let Billy get a fresh horse and bringthem back to me, and he needn't be afraid of knocking his horse up. I'mafraid we're too late as it is. Can he find his way here?"

"He's been here. "

"That's all right, then. Tell Anderson I think it's typhoid, and if hethinks we can move him, let Wright follow the doctor out with theexpress-wagon--Mrs. Brown will know what to send to make it comfortable. Can you manage Bobs?"

"Yes--of course. "

Mr. Linton put his hand on her shoulder. 

"I've got to let you go, " he said. "It's the only way. Remember, I won'thave a minute's peace until I know you've got safely home. "

"I'll be all right, Daddy--true. And I'll hurry. Don't bother about me. "

"Bother!" he said. "My little wee mate. " He kissed her twice. "Now--hurry!"

* * * * *

Bobs, grazing peacefully under a big gum tree, was startled by a littlefigure, staggering beneath saddle and bridle. In a minute Norah was onhis back, and they were galloping across the plain towards home. 

* * * * *

A young man sat on the cap of the stockyard fence at Billabonghomestead, swinging his legs listlessly and wishing for something to do. He blessed the impulse that had brought him to the station before histime, and wondered if things were likely to be always as dull. 

"Unless my small pupil stirs things up, I don't fancy this life much, "he said moodily, in which he showed considerable impatience of judgment, being but a young man. 

Across the long, grey plain a tiny cloud gathered, and the man watchedit lazily. Gradually it grew larger, until it resolved itself intodust--and the dust into a horse and rider. 

"Someone coming, " he said, with faint interest. "By Jove, it's a girl!She's racing, too. Wonder if anything's wrong?"

He slipped from the fence and went forward to open the gate, looking atthe advancing pair. A big bay pony panting and dripping with sweat, butwith "go" in him yet for a final sprint; and on his back a little girl, flushed and excited, with tired, set lips. He expected her to stop atthe gate, but she flashed by him with a glance and a brief "Thank you, "galloping up to the gate of the yard. Almost before the pony stopped shewas out of the saddle and running up the path to the kitchen. The mansaw Mrs. Brown come out, and heard her cry of surprise as she caught thechild to her. 

"Something's up, " said the stranger. He followed at a run. 

In the kitchen Norah was clinging to Mrs. Brown, quivering with theeffort not to cry. 

"Someone ill in the bush?" said the astonished Brownie, patting hernurseling. "Yes, Billy's here, dearie--and all the horses are in. Where's the note? I'll see to it. Poor pet! Don't take on, lovey, there. See, here's your new governess, Mr. Stephenson!"

Norah straightened with a gasp of astonishment. 

"You!" she said. 

"Me!" said Dick Stephenson ungrammatically, holding out his hand. "You're my pupil, aren't you? Is anything wrong?"

"There's a poor gentleman near to dyin' in the scrub, " volunteered Mrs. Brown, "an' Miss Norah's come all the way in for help. Fifteen mile, ifit's a inch! I don't know ow' you did it, my blessed pet!"

"You don't mean to say you did!" said the new "governess" amazed. Smallgirls like this had not come his way. "By Jove, you're plucky! I say, what's up?"

Norah was very pale. 

"Are you really Mr. Stephenson?" she asked. "I... You'll besurprised.... He's... " Her voice failed her. 

"Don't worry to talk, " he said gently. "You're done up. "

"No--" She steadied her voice. "I must tell you. It's--it's--yourfather!"

Dick Stephenson's face suddenly darkened. 

"I beg your pardon, " he said stiffly. "You're making a mistake; myfather is dead. "

"He's not, " said Norah, "He's my dear Hermit, and he's out there withtyphoid, or some beastly thing. We found him--and Dad knows him quitewell. It's really him. He never got drowned. "

"Do you know what you're saying?" The man's face was white. 

But Norah's self-command was at an end. She buried her face in Brownie'skind bosom, and burst into a passion of crying. 

The old woman rocked her to and fro gently until the sobs grew fainter, and Norah, shame-faced, began to feel for her handkerchief. Then Mrs. Brown put her into the big cushioned rocking-chair. 

"Now, you must be brave and tell us, dearie, " she said gently. "This ispretty wonderful for Mr. Stephenson. "

So Norah, with many catchings of the breath, told them all about theHermit, and of her father's recognition of him, saying only nothing ofher long and lonely ride. Before she had finished Billy was on the roadto Cunjee, flying for the doctor. Dick Stephenson, white-faced, broke inon the story. 

"How can I get out there?" he asked shortly. 

"I'll take you, " Norah said. 

"You!--that's out of the question. "

"No, it isn't. I'm not tired, " said Norah, quite unconscious of sayinganything but the truth. "I knew I'd have to, anyhow, because only Billyand I know the way to the Hermit's camp, and he has to fetch the doctor. You tell Wright to get Banker for you, and put my saddle on Jim'spony--and to look well after Bobs. Hurry, while Brownie gets the otherthings!"

Dick Stephenson made no further protests, his brain awhirl as he racedto the stables. Brownie protested certainly, but did her small maid'sbidding the while. But it was a very troubled old face that looked longafter the man and the little girl, as they started on the long ride backto the camp. 

Mile after mile they swung across the grey plain. 

Norah did not try to talk. She disdained the idea that she was tired, but a vague feeling told her that she must save all her energies toguide the way back to the camp hidden in the scrub, where the Hermit layraving, and her father sat beside the lonely bed. 

Neither was her companion talkative. He stared ahead, as if trying topierce with his eyes the line of timber that blurred across thelandscape. Norah was glad he did not bother her with questions. She hadtold him all she knew, and now he was content to wait. 

"It must be hard on him, all the same, " thought Norah, looking at theset young face, and sparing an instant to approve of the easy seat inthe saddle displayed by her new "governess. " To believe that your fatherwas dead all these years, and then suddenly to find him alive--but howfar apart in every way! "Why, you hardly know, " mused Norah, "whetheryou'll like him--whether he'll be glad to see you! Not that anyone couldfail to like the Hermit--anyone with sense, that is!"

Mile after mile! The plain slipped away beneath the even beat of thesteadily cantering hoofs. The creek, forded slowly, sank into thedistance behind them; before, the line of timber grew darker and moredefinite. Jim's pony was not far inferior to Bobs in pace and easiness, and his swinging canter required no effort to sit, but a great wearinessbegan to steal over his rider. Dick Stephenson, glancing at herfrequently, saw the pallor creeping upon the brave little face. 

He pulled up. 

"We'll go steady for a while, " he said. "No good knocking you upaltogether. "

Norah checked her pony unwillingly. 

"Oh, don't you think we ought to hurry?" she said. "Dad's waiting forthose medicines you've got, you know. "

"Yes, I know. But I don't think we'll gain much by overdoing it. "

"If you're thinking about me, " Norah said impatiently, "you needn't. I'mas right as rain. You must think I'm pretty soft! Do come on!"

He looked at her steadily. Dark shadows of weariness lay under the braveeyes that met his. 

"Why, no, " he said. "Fact is, I'm a bit of a new chum myself whereriding's concerned--you mustn't be too ashamed of me. I think we'dbetter walk for a while. And you take this. "

He poured something from his flask into its little silver cup and handedit to Norah. Their eyes met, and she read his meaning through thekindness of the words that cloaked what he felt. Above her weariness asense of comfort stole over Norah. She knew in that look that henceforththey were friends. 

She gulped down the drink, which was hateful, but presently sent afeeling of renewed strength through her tired limbs. They rode on insilence for some time, the horses brushing through the long soft grass. Dick Stephenson pulled hard at his pipe. 

"Did--did my father know you this morning?" he asked suddenly. 

Norah shook her head mournfully. 

"He didn't know anyone, " she answered, "only asked for water and saidthings I couldn't understand. Then when Dad came he knew him at once, but the Hermit didn't seem even to know that Dad was there. "

"Did he look very bad?"

"Yes--pretty bad, " said Norah, hating to hurt him. "He was terriblyflushed, and oh! his poor eyes were awful, so burning and sunken. And--oh!--let's canter, Mr. Stephenson, please!"

This time there was no objection. Banker jumped at the quick touch ofthe spur as Stephenson's heel went home. Side by side they canteredsteadily until Norah pulled her pony in at length at the entrance to thetimber, where the creek swung into Anglers' Bend. 

"We're nearly there, " she said. 

But to the man watching in the Hermit's camp the hours were long indeed. 

The Hermit was too weak to struggle much. There had been a few sharpparoxysms of delirium, such as Norah had seen, during which David Lintonhad been forced to hold the old man down with unwilling force. But thestruggles soon brought their own result of helpless weakness, and theHermit subsided into restless unconsciousness, broken by feeblemutterings, of which few coherent words could be caught. "Dick" wasfrequently on the fevered lips. Once he smiled suddenly, and Mr. Linton, bending down, heard a faint whisper of "Norah. "

Sitting beside his old friend in the lonely silence of the bush, hestudied the ravages time and sorrow had wrought in the features be knew. Greatly changed as Jim Stephenson was, his face lined and sunken, andhis beard long and white as snow, it was still, to David Linton, thefriend of his boyhood come back from the grave and from his burden ofunmerited disgrace. The frank blue eyes were as brave as ever; they methis with no light of recognition, but with their clear gaze undimmed. Asob rose in the strong man's throat--if he could but see again thatwelcoming light!--hear once more his name on his friend's lips! If hewere not too late!

The Hermit muttered and tossed on his narrow bed. The watcher's thoughtsfled to the little messenger galloping over the long miles of lonelycountry--his motherless girl, whom he had sent on a mission that mightso easily spell disaster. Horrible thoughts came into the father's mind. He pictured Bobs putting his hoof into a hidden crab-hole--falling--Norahlying white and motionless, perhaps far from the track. That was not theonly danger. Bad characters were to be met with in the bush and the ponywas valuable enough to tempt a desperate man--such as the Winfieldmurderer, who was roaming the district, nobody knew where. There was ascore of possible risks; to battle with them, a little maid of twelve, strong only in the self-reliance bred of the bush. The father looked atthe ghastly face before him, and asked himself questions thattortured--Was it right to have let the young life go to save the oldone that seemed just flickering out? He put his face in his hands andgroaned. 

How long the hours were! He calculated feverishly the time it would takethe little messenger to reach home if all went well; then how long itmust be before a man could come out to him. At that thought he realisedfor the first time the difficulty Norah had seen in silence--who shouldcome out to him? Black Billy must fetch the doctor and guide him to thesick man; but no one else save Norah herself knew the track to thelittle camp, hidden so cunningly in the scrub, at that rate it might bemany hours before he knew if his child were safe. Anxiety for theremedies for his friend was swallowed up in the anguish of uncertaintyfor Norah. It seemed to him that he must go to seek her--that he couldnot wait! He started up, but, as if alarmed by his sudden movement, theHermit cried out and tried to rise, struggling feebly with the stronghands that were quick to hold him back. When the struggle was over DavidLinton sat down again. How could he leave him?

Then across his agony of uncertainty came a clear childish voice. Thetent flaps were parted and Norah stood in the entrance white andtrembling, but with a glad smile of welcome on her lips--behind her atall man, who trembled, too. David Linton did not see him. All the worldseemed whirling round him as he caught his child in his arms. 

CHAPTER XVI. FIGHTING DEATH

"You!" Mr. Linton said. 

He had put Norah gently into the rough chair, and turned to DickStephenson, who was standing by his father, his lips twitching. Theygripped hands silently. 

"You can recognise him?"

"I'd know him anywhere, " the son said. "Poor old dad! You think--?"

"I don't know, " the other said hastily. "Can't tell until Andersoncomes. But I fancy it's typhoid. You brought the things? Ah!" His eyesbrightened as they fell on the leather medicine-case Mrs. Brown hadsent, and in a moment he was unstrapping it with quick, nervousfingers.. 

The Hermit stirred, and gasped for water. He drank readily enough fromthe glass Mr. Linton held to his lips, while his son supported him withstrong young arms. There was not much they could do. 

"Anderson should be here before long, " Mr. Linton said. "What time didBilly leave?"

"A little after twelve. "

"What did he ride?"

"A big black. "

"That's right, " Mr. Linton nodded. "Anderson would motor out toBillabong, I expect, and Mrs. Brown would have the fresh horses ready. They should not be very long, with ordinary luck. Billy left abouttwelve, did he? By Jove, Norah must have made great time! It was afterhalf-past ten when she left me. "

"She and the pony looked as if they'd done enough. "

"And she came back! I hadn't realised it all in the minute of seeingher, " her father said, staring at Stephenson. "Norah, dear, are youquite knocked up?" He turned to speak, but broke off sharply. Norah wasgone. 

Mr. Linton turned on his heel without a word, and hurried out of thetent, with Stephenson at his side. Just for a moment the Hermit wasforgotten in the sudden pang of anxiety that gripped them both. In theopen they glanced round quickly, and a sharp exclamation of dismay brokefrom the father. 

Norah was lying in a crumpled heap under a tree. There was somethingterribly helpless in the little, quiet figure, face downwards, on thegrass. 

Just for a moment, as he fell on his knees beside her, David Linton losthis self-control. He called her piteously, catching the limp body tohim. Dick Stephenson's hand fell on his shoulder. 

"She's only fainted, " he said huskily. "Over-tired, that's all. Put herdown, sir, please"--and Mr. Linton, still trembling, laid the littlegirl on the grass, and loosened her collar, while the other forced a fewdrops from his flask between the pale lips. 

Gradually Norah's eyes flickered and opened, and colour crept into hercheeks. 

"Daddy!" she whispered. 

"Don't talk, my darling, " her father said. "Lie still. "

"I'm all right now, " Norah said presently. "I'm so sorry I frightenedyou, Daddy--I couldn't help it. "

"You should have kept still, dear, " said her father. "Why did you goout?"

"I felt rummy, " said his daughter inelegantly; "a queer, whirly-go-roundfeeling. I guessed I must be going to tumble over. It didn't seem anygood making a duffer of myself when you were busy with the Hermit, so Icut out. "

Dick Stephenson turned sharply and, without a word, strode back into thetent. 

Norah turned with a sudden movement to her father, clinging to the roughserge of his coat. Something like a tear fell on her upturned face asthe strong arms enfolded her. 

"Why--Daddy--dear old Dad!" she whispered. 

It was nearly twilight when Dr. Anderson and black Billy rode into theclearing, to the joy of the anxious watchers. 

The doctor did not waste any words. He slipped off his horse and enteredthe tent. Presently Dick Stephenson came out and sat down beside Norahto await the verdict. 

"I can't do any good there, " he said, "and there's no room. "

Norah nodded. Just then there seemed nothing to say to this son whosefather, so lately given back from the grave, seemed to be slipping awayagain without a word. She slid her hand into his and felt his fingersclose warmly upon it. 

"I can stand it, " he said brokenly, after a little, "if he can only knowwe--the world--knows he was never guilty--if I can only tell him that. Ican't bear him to die not knowing that. "

"He'd know it anyhow. "

The little voice was very low, but the lad heard it. 

"I--I guess he will, " he said, "and that's better. But I would like tomake it up to him a bit--while he's here. "

Then they were silent. The shadows deepened across the clearing. Longsince the sun had disappeared behind the rim of encircling trees. 

The tent flaps parted and the doctor and Mr. Linton came out. Dick roseand faced them. He could not utter the question that trembled on hislips. 

The doctor nodded cheerily. 

"Well, Norah?" he said. "Yes; I think we'll pull the patient throughthis time, Mr. Stephenson. It'll be a fight, for he's old and weakenedby exposure and lack of proper food, but I think we'll do it. " He talkedon hopefully, appearing not to see the question the son could notaltogether hide. "Take him home? Yes, we'll get him home to-morrow, Ithink. We can't nurse him out here. The express-wagon's following withall sorts of comforting things. Trust your old Mrs. Brown for that, Norah. Most capable woman! Mattresses, air pillows, nourishment--she'dthought of everything, and the wagon was all ready to start when I gotto Billabong. By the way, Billy was to go back to show Wright the way. Where are you, Billy? Why haven't you gone?"

"Plenty!" said Billy hastily, as he disappeared. 

"Queer chap, that, " said Dr. Anderson, lighting a cigarette. "That'sabout the only remark he's made all day, and in the motor he didn't sayas much--sat like an ebony statue, with his eyes bulging in unholyterror. I hear you've been flying all over the country, Norah. What doyou mean by looking so white?"

The tale of Norah's iniquities was unfolded to him, and the doctor felther pulse in a friendly way. 

"You'll have to go to bed soon, " he said. "Can't have you knockingyourself up, you know; and we've got to make an early start to-morrow toavoid the worst heat of the day for the patient. Also, you will take asmall tabloid to make you 'buck up, ' if you know what that means, Norah!" Norah grinned. "Ah, well, Mr. Stephenson here will make youforget all that undesirable knowledge before long--lost in a maze ofEuclid, and Latin, and Greek, and trigonometry, and things!"

"I say!" gasped Norah. 

"Well, you may, " grinned the doctor. "I foresee lively times for you andyour tutor in the paths of learning, young lady. First of all, however, you'll have to be under-nurse to our friend the patient, with Mrs. Brownas head. And that reminds me--someone must sit up to-night. "

"That's my privilege, " said Dick Stephenson quickly. And all that night, after the camp had quieted to sleep, the son sat beside his newly-foundfather, watching in the silver moonlight every change that flittedacross the wan old face. The Hermit had not yet recovered consciousness, but under the doctor's remedies he had lost the terrible restlessness ofdelirium and lay for the most part calmly. In heart, as he watched him, Dick was but a little boy again, loving above all the world the tall"Daddy" who was his hero--longing with all the little boy's devotion andall the strength of his manhood to make up to him for the years he hadsuffered alone. 

But the calm face on the bed never showed sign of recognition. Once ortwice the Hermit muttered, and his boy's name was on his lips. The pulsefluttered feebly. The great river flowed very close about his feet. 

CHAPTER XVII. THE END OF THE STRUGGLE

The long slow journey to Billabong homestead was accomplished. 

The Hermit had never regained consciousness throughout the weary hoursduring which every jolt of the express-wagon over the rough tracks hadsent a throb to the hearts of the watchers. All unconscious he had lainwhile they lifted him from the bunk where he had slept for so manylonely nights. The men packed his few personal belongings quickly. Norah, remembering a hint dropped by the Hermit in other days, hadinstituted a search for buried papers, which resulted in the unearthingof a tin box containing various documents. She had insisted, too, thatthe rough furniture should go, and it was piled in the front of thewagon. Another man had brought out the old pack mare for the baggage ofthe original fishing party, and the whole cavalcade moved off before thesun had got above the horizon. 

But it was a tedious journey. Dr. Anderson sat beside his patient, watching the feeble action of the heart and the flickering pulse, plyinghim with stimulants and nourishment, occasionally calling a halt for afew minutes' complete rest. Close to the wheel Dick Stephenson rode, hiseyes scarcely leaving his father's face. On the other side, Norah andher father rode in silent, miserable anxiety, fretting at their utterhelplessness. Dr. Anderson glanced sharply now and then at the littlegirl's face. 

"This isn't good for her, " he said at length quietly to Mr. Linton. "She's had too much already. Take her home. " He raised his voice. "You'dbetter go on, " he said; "let Mrs. Brown know just what is coming; she'llneed you to help her prepare the patient's room, Norah. You, too, Stephenson. "

"I won't leave him, thanks, " he said. "I'd rather not--he might becomeconscious. "

"No chance of that, " the doctor said, "best not, too, until we have himsafely in bed. However, stay if you like--perhaps it's as well. I think, Linton, you'd better send a wire to Melbourne for a trained nurse. "

"And one to mother, " Dick said quickly. 

"That's gone already, " Mr. Linton said. "I sent George back with it lastnight when he brought the mare out. " He smiled in answer to Dick'sgrateful look. "Well, come on, Norah. "

The remembrance of that helpless form in the bottom of the wagon hauntedNorah's memory all through the remainder of the ride home. She wasthoroughly tired now--excitement that had kept her up the day before hadprevented her from sleeping, and she scarcely could keep upright in thesaddle. However, she set her teeth to show no sign of weakness thatshould alarm her father, and endeavoured to have a smile for himwhenever his anxious gaze swept her white face. 

The relief of seeing the red roof of home! That last mile was thelongest of all--and when at length they were at the gate, and she hadclimbed stiffly off her pony, she could only lean against his shoulderand shake from head to foot. Mr. Linton picked her up bodily and carriedher, feebly protesting, into Mrs. Brown. 

"Only knocked up, " he said, in answer to the old woman's terrifiedexclamation. "Bed is all she needs--and hot soup, if you've got it. Norah, dear"--as she begged to be allowed to remain and help--"you cando nothing just now, except get yourself all right. Do as I tell you, girlie;" and in an astonishingly short space of time Norah found herselftucked up in bed in her darkened room, with Daddy's hand fast in hers, and a comforting feeling of everything fading away to darkness andsleep. 

It was twilight when she opened her eyes again, and Brownie sat knittingby her side. 

"Bless your dear heart, " she said fervently. "Yes, the old gentleman'scome, an' he's quite comfertable in bed--though he don't know no oneyet. Dr. Anderson's gone to Cunjee, but he's coming back in his steamengine to stay all night; an' your pa's having his dinner, which heneeds it, poor man. An' he don't want you to get up, lovey, for thereain't nothin' you can do. I'll go and get you something to eat. "

But it was Mr. Linton who came presently, bearing a tray with daintychicken and salad, and a glass of clear golden jelly. He sat by Norahwhile she ate. 

"We're pretty anxious, dear, " he told her, when she had finished, andwas snugly lying down again, astonishingly glad of her soft bed. "Youwon't mind my not staying. I must be near old Jim. I'll be glad whenAnderson's back. Try to go to sleep quickly. " He bent to kiss her. "Youdon't know what a comfort your sleep has been to me, my girlie, " hesaid. "Good-night!"

It was the third day of the struggle with death over the Hermit'sunconscious body, and again twilight was falling upon Billabong. 

The house was hushed and silent. No footfall was allowed to sound wherethe echo might penetrate to the sick-room. Near its precincts Mrs. Brownand the Melbourne trained nurse reigned supreme, and Dr. Anderson cameand went as often as he could manage the fourteen-mile spin out fromCunjee in his motor. 

Norah had a new care--a little fragile old lady, with snowy hair, anddepths of infinite sadness in her eyes, whom Dick Stephenson called"mother. " The doctor would not allow either mother or son into thesick-room--the shock of recognition, should the Hermit regainconsciousness suddenly, might be too much. So they waited about, agonisingly anxious, pitifully helpless. Dick rebelled against theidleness at length. It would kill him, he said, and, borrowing a spadefrom the Chinese gardener, he spent his time in heavy digging, withineasy call of the house. But for the wife and mother there was no help. She was gently courteous to all, gently appreciative of Norah's attemptsto occupy her thoughts. But throughout it all--whether she looked at thepets outside, or walked among the autumn roses in the garden, orstruggled to eat at the table--she was listening, ever listening. 

In the evening of the third day Mr. Linton came quickly into thedrawing-room. Tears were falling down his face. He went up to Mrs. Stephenson and put his hand on her shoulder. 

"It's--it's all right, we think, " he said brokenly. "He's conscious andknew me, dear old chap! I was sitting by the bed, and suddenly his eyesopened and all the fever had gone. 'Why, Davy!' he said. I told himeverything was all right, and he mustn't talk--and he's taken somenourishment, and gone off into a natural sleep. Anderson's delighted. "Then he caught Mrs. Stephenson quickly as she slipped to his feet, unconscious. 

Then there were days of dreary waiting, of slow, harassingconvalescence. The patient did not seem to be alive to any outsidethought. He gained strength very slowly, but he lay always silent, asking no questions, only when Mr. Linton entered the room showing anysign of interest. The doctor was vaguely puzzled, vaguely anxious. 

"Do you think I could go and see him?" Norah was outside the door of thesick-room. The doctor often found her there--a little silent figure, listening vainly for her friend's voice. She looked up pleadingly. "Notif you think I oughtn't to, " she said. 

"I don't believe it would hurt him, " Dr. Anderson said, looking down ather. "Might wake him up a bit--I know you won't excite him. "

So it was that the Hermit, waking from a restless sleep, found by hisside a small person with brown curls that he remembered. 

"Why, it's my little friend, " he murmured, feeling weakly for her hand. "This seems a queer world--old friends and new, all mixed up. "

"I'm so glad you're better, dear Mr. Hermit, " Norah said. She bent andkissed him. "And we're all friends--everybody. "

"You did that once before, " he said feebly. "No one had kissed me forsuch a long, long while. But mustn't let you. "

"Why?" asked Norah blankly. 

"Because--because people don't think much of me, Miss Norah, " he said, adeep shade falling on his fine old face. "They say I'm no good. I don'tsuppose I'd be allowed to be here, only I'm an old man, and I'm going todie. "

"But you're not!" Norah cried. "Dr. Anderson says you're not!And--and--oh, you're making a great mistake. Everyone wants you. "

"Me!" said the Hermit, in sudden bitter scorn. "No, only strangers likeyou. Not my own. "

"Oh, you don't know, " Norah protested. She was painfully aware of theorder not to excite the patient, but it was awful to let him be sounhappy! "Dad's not a stranger--he always knew you. And see how he wantsyou!"

"Dad?" the Hermit questioned feebly. "Is David Linton your father?" Shenodded, and for a minute he was silent. "No wonder you and I werefriends!" he said. "But you're not all--not even you and Davy. "

"No, but--"

He forced a smile, in pity for her perplexity. 

"Dear little girl, you don't understand, " he said. "There's somethingeven friendship can't wipe out, though such friendship as your father'scan bridge it over. But it's always there--a black, cruel gulf. Andthat's disgrace!"

Norah could not bear the misery of his eyes. 

"But if it's all a horrible mistake?" she said. "If everybody knewit--?"

"If it's a mistake!"

The Hermit's hand was on her wrist like a vice. For a moment Norahshivered in fear of what her words might have done. 

"What do you mean? For God's sake, tell me?"

She steadied her voice to answer him bravely. 

"Please, you mustn't get excited, dear Mr. Hermit, " she said. "I'll tellyou. Dad told me all about it before we found you. It's all a terriblemistake. Every one knows you were a good man. Everyone wants to befriends with you. Only they thought you were dead. "

"I managed that. " His voice was sharp and eager. "I saw the other bodyin the river and the rest was easy. " He struggled for calmness and Norahheld a glass of water to his lips. 

"Please don't get excited!" she begged. 

"I won't, " he smiled at her. "Tell me--does everyone know?"

"Everyone, " Norah nodded. There was a step behind her and a sudden lightflashed into the Hermit's eyes. 

"Davy! Is it true? I am cleared?"

"Years ago, old man. " David Linton's voice was husky. "All the worldwants to make it up to you. "

"All the world--they're only two!" the sick man said. "Do they know?"

"Yes. "

"Where are they?"

For a moment Mr. Linton hesitated, not knowing what risk he might run. 

"Oh! for pity's sake don't be cautious, David, " the Hermit begged. "I'llbe calm--anything--only don't refuse a starving man bread! Davy, tellme!"

"They're here, old man. "

"Here! Can I--will they--?"

"Ah, we've got to be careful of you, Jim, old chap, " Mr. Linton said. "You've been a very sick man--and you're not better yet. But they'reonly living on the hope of seeing you--of having you again--of making itup to you. "

"And they believe in me?"

"The boy--Dick--never believed a word against you, " Mr. Linton said. "And your wife--ah, if she doubted, she has paid for it again and againin tears. You'll forgive her, Jim?"

"Yes, " he said simply. "I've been bitter enough God knows, but it allseems gone. You'll bring her, Davy?"

But at the word Norah was out of the room, racing along the hall. 

Out in the gardens Dick Stephenson dug mightily in the hard soil, andhis mother watched him, listening always. She heard the flying footstepson the gravel and turned quickly to meet Norah. 

"Mr. Stephenson, he wants you!"

"Is he worse?" Dick gasped. 

"No--I think he's all right. But he knows everything and he wants youboth!"

In his room the Hermit heard the steps in the hall--the light, slowfeet, and the man's tread, that curbed its impatience, lingering tosupport them. His breath came quickly as he stared at the door. 

Then for a moment they faced each other, after the weary years; eachgaunt and wan and old, but in their eyes the light and the love of longago. The hermit's eyes wandered an instant to his son's face, seeking inthe stalwart man the little lad he knew. Then they came back to hiswife. 

"Mary!"

"Jim!" She tottered to the bed. 

"Jim--can you forgive me?"

"Forgive--oh, my girl!" The two grey heads were close together. DavidLinton slipped from the room. 

CHAPTER XVIII. EVENING

They were all sitting on the lawn in the twilight. 

Norah had dispensed afternoon tea with laborious energy, ably secondedby Dick, who carried cups and cake, and made himself generally useful. Then they had talked until the sun slipped over the edge of the plain. There was so much to talk of in those days. 

The Hermit had been allowed to leave his room a fortnight since. He wasstill weak, but strength was coming every day--strength that follows onhappiness. Norah declared he grew better every day and no onecontradicted her. 

He and his wife sat hand in hand. They were rarely seen any otherway--perfect content on each placid face. Dick lay on the grass at theirfeet and smoked, and threw stems of buffalo grass at Norah, who returnedthem honourably. Mr. Linton, also smoking, surveyed the group withsatisfaction. 

They had been talking over plans for the future, plans which Mr. Linton's masterfulness modified very considerably. 

"Go away?" he said. "Certainly not! I've engaged your son as tutor to mydaughter, and I really can't spare him from the poor neglected child!Then, as you, curiously enough, don't wish to leave your son, the courseis quite clear--you must stay here. "

"I'm not going to live on you, Davy. "

"You needn't. I'm bitterly in need of someone with a head for figures--athing I never possessed. You can help me tremendously. And, good as dearold Brownie is, I know Norah ought to be with a gentlewoman--to learnthe things that aren't in school books. It's the best chance you and Ihave ever had, isn't it, Norah? We aren't going to let it--or you--slipthrough our hands. "

"It's--it's all very well, Davy, old man--"

"I know it is. Now, can't you let well alone, Jim? Talk of it again infive years' time--you may have better luck then. I don't say youwill--but you may! Hang it all, man, you're not going to thwart me whenI've just got my family together!"

"Well, I won't for a while, " the Hermit said-and immediately received akiss on the top of his head. 

"Thank you, Norah, " he said meekly. 

"Don't mention it, " Norah answered politely. "Oh, I'm so glad you'regoing to stay with us, Mr. Hermit!"

Norah had flatly declined to call her friend anything but the name shehad given him in the bush. As for the Hermit, he was perfectly contentwith anything Norah did and had no idea of objecting. 

"You heard, didn't you, Norah, that they'd found your friend, theWinfield murderer?" Mr. Linton asked. 

"Daddy!--no!"

"Found his body in an old shaft--not far from Winfield. He had thestolen property on him, so there's no doubt of his guilt. So that clearsyour Hermit, even in your suspicious mind!"

"Ah, don't, Daddy, " Norah said, flushing. "I wasn't suspicious. I was aduffer. "

"I don't think you were, " the Hermit said decidedly. "A very sensibleduffer, anyhow. "

Dick laughed. 

"No use trying to come between those two, " he said. 

"Not a bit, " said the Hermit with great cheerfulness. He smiled atNorah. "You brought me back to life--twice. "

"When I think--but for Norah, " Mrs. Stephenson murmured brokenly, "noone would have known you were dying in that dreadful tent. "

"Yes, " said the Hermit, "but I didn't know anything about it. My bestmemory is of my little friend who brought me good news when I waswishing with all my soul that I'd died in the tent!"

"Don't, Jim!" said Mr. Linton. 

"Well, between one and another there's a fair chance of spoiling mypupil, " laughed Dick, stretching himself. "I'll have to be doubly sternto counteract the evil influences, Norah. You can prepare for awfultimes. When next Monday comes, Mr. Linton--may it be soon!--you can saygood-bye to your pickle of a daughter. She will come out from my millground into the most approved type of young lady--accomplishments, prunes and prisms personified!"

Mr. Linton laughed. 

"Will she?" he said, pulling Norah's hair gently. "I wonder! Well, youcan do your worst, Dick. Somehow, I fancy that under all the varnishI'll find my little bush maid. "

The End