ollected that what the eye could not see might some time be
discovered by another of the senses. So he waited patiently,
standing guard as it were over the dead, until his curiosity induced
him to pay a farewell visit by daylight to the place where Baldy was
buried.

There had been hot weather since the body had been deposited in the
shallow grave, and the crevices among the piles of bluestones had
been filled by the wind with the yellow stalks of decayed grass.
Nosey walked round his own particular pile, and inspected it closely.
He was pleased to find that it showed no signs of having been touched
since he raised it. It was just like any of the other heaps of rocks
around it. He had, at any rate, given Baldy as good a funeral as
circumstances would permit, better than that of many a man who had
perished of hunger, heat, and thirst, in the shelterless wastes of
the Never-Never Land, "beyond Moneygrub's farthest run." Nosey and
the weather had done their work so well that for the next fifteen
years no shepherd, stockman, or squatter ever gave a second look at
that unknown grave. The black snake coiled itself beneath the
decaying skeleton, and spent the winter in secure repose. The native
cat tore away bits of Baldy's clothing, and with them and the yellow
grass made, year after year, a nest for its young among the whitening
bones.

Everything, so far, had turned out quite as satisfactorily as any
murderer could expect. Nosey had been game to do his man, and he had
done him well. Julia was prudent enough to hold her tongue for her
own sake; it was unlikely that any further search would be made for
the lost shepherd; he had been safely put out of sight, and not even
Julia knew where he was buried.

Nosey began to have a better opinion of himself than ever. Neither
the police nor the law could touch him. He would never be called to
account for putting away his brother shepherd, in this world at any
rate; and as for the next, why it was a long way off, and there was
time enough to think about it. The day of reckoning was distant, but
it came at last, as it always does to every sinner of us all.

Nosey resigned his billet, and went to Nyalong. He lived in a hut in
the eastern part of the township, not far from the lake, and near the
corner of the road coming down from the Bald Hill. Here had been
laid the foundation of a great inland city by a bush publican, two
storekeepers, a wheelwright, and a blacksmith