a voice that I knew to be
Starlight's. 'If you do there's tea near the fire, and some grub in
that flour bag. Help yourselves and hobble out your horses. We'll settle
matters a bit in the morning. Your respected parent's abed in his
own camp, and it's just as well not to wake him, unless you want his
blessing ere you sleep.'

We went with Starlight to his gunyah. A path led through a clump of
pines, so thick that a man might ride round it and never dream there
was anything but more pines inside. A clear place had been made in the
sandhill, and a snug crib enough rigged with saplings and a few sheets
of bark. It was neat and tidy, like everything he had to do with. 'I was
at sea when I was young,' he once said to Jim, when he was a bit 'on',
'and a man learns to be neat there.' There was a big chimney outside,
and a lot of leaves and rushes out of a swamp which he had made Warrigal
gather.

'Put your blankets down there, boys, and turn in. You'll see how the
land lies in the morning.' We didn't want asking twice, Jim's eyes were
nigh shut as it was. The sun was up when we woke.

Outside the first thing we saw was father and Starlight talking. Both of
these seemed a bit cranky. 'It's a d----shame,' we heard Starlight
say, as he turned and walked off. 'We could have done it well enough by
ourselves.'

'I know what I'm about,' says father, 'it's all or none. What's the use
of crying after being in it up to our neck?'

'Some day you'll think different,' says Starlight, looking back at him.

I often remembered it afterwards.

'Well, lads,' says father, looking straight at us, 'I wasn't sure as
you'd come. Starlight has been barneying with me about sending for you.
But we've got a big thing on now, and I thought you'd like to be in it.'

'We have come,' says I, pretty short. 'Now we're here what's the play
called, and when does the curtain rise? We're on.' I was riled, vexed
at Starlight talking as if we were children, and thought I'd show as we
were men, like a young fool as I was.

'All right,' says father, and he sat down on a log, and began to tell us
how there was any quantity of cattle running at the back where they were
camped--a good lot strayed and mixed up, from the last dry season, and
had never been mustered for years. The stockmen hardly ever came out
till the autumn musters. One of the chaps that was in it knew all this
side and had told them. They were going to muster for a month or so, and
drive the