I had
found the back of beyond, where I would never see anyone more civilized
than a bunyip! But--I've been here for three months, little lady, and
have 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 camp
here sometimes, but we haven't been for more than three months."

"Well, I must move, that's all," said the old man. "I do like
quiet--it's annoying enough to have to dress up and go into a township
now and then for stores. How do you like my clothes, by the way? I may
as 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 name
of my visitor?"

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

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

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

"Do."

"A hermit!"

The old man's face cleared.

"My dear Miss Norah," he said, "you've made a profound discovery. I
am--I am--a hermit! Thank you very much. Being a hermit my resources are
scanty, 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's
Jim 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 a
little apologetic.

"I had to call," she explained--"Jim would be anxious. They want me for
lunch." 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 to
reckon," said the Hermit. "I don't know--will they let me alone
afterwards? Are they ordinary abominable boys?"

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