uded like an April sky; the instant before she had been
deliciously flushed and excited. Her companion, however, was happily
intent upon his sheep.

"That's the way to start," he said, "with fifty or sixty at one swoop;
you can work a mob like that; it's the five or six that give the
trouble. I have reason to know! There's a corner of one of the paddocks
in our South Block where a few of the duffers have a meet every morning,
just because there's some water they can smell across the fence; won't
draw to their own water at the opposite corner of their own paddock,
not they! No, there they'd stick and die of thirst if one of us wasn't
sent to rout them out. It was my billet every day last week, and a
tougher one I never want. One time there was less than half a dozen of
'em: think of driving five weak sheep through eight or nine miles of
scrub without a dog! It would be ten miles if I followed both fences
religiously; but I'm getting so that I can cut off a pretty fair corner.
Yes, it's pretty hard graft, as they say up here, a day like that; but
your water-bag holds nectar, while it lasts; and may your wedding-cake
taste as good as the bit of browny under a pine, Miss Bethune!"

"What's browny?" asked Moya hastily.

"Raisins and baking-powder," said Ives, with a laugh; "but I've got
enough for two in my pocket, so you shall sample it whenever you like.
By the way, aren't you thirsty yet?"

Moya was.

"It's the dust from the sheep, which you profess to relish, Mr. Ives."

"Only because it's like no other dust," explained the connoisseur. "And
water-bag water's like no other kind."

The canvas bag was wet and heavy as he detached it from the saddle and
handed it to Moya after drawing the cork from the glass mouthpiece; and
from the latter Moya drank as to the manner born, the moist bag
shrinking visibly between her hands.

"Steady!" cried Ives, "or we shall perish of thirst before we strike the
gate. Well, what do you think of it?"

"A little canvassy, but I never tasted anything cooler, or more
delicious," said Moya in all sincerity, for already the sun was high,
and the dry heat of it stupendous.

The jackeroo sighed as he replaced the cork after a very modest sip.

"Ah!" said he, "I wish we were taking sheep to water in the paddock I
was telling you about! Long before you get to their water, you strike a
covered-in tank, that is if you cut off your corner properly and hit the
other fence in the right place.