just had a drop from a bottle... And here come Red and Larry."
Sterl with Leslie crossed over to the center of camp, where Friday was carrying water. Slyter, after rummaging under seat of his wagon, brought a book to Leslie.
"Les, one of your jobs is keeping our journal. Record date, distance trekked, weather, incident, everything."
"Whew! what a job!" exclaimed Leslie. "But I'll love it... How far today?"
"A long trek. Sixteen miles?" asked Slyter, dubiously.
"And then some," interposed Sterl. "Ask Red. He's a wonderful judge of distance... Now, boss, how about night guard?"
"Three changes. Two men on for three hours each. Eight to eleven, eleven to two, two till five. Which watch would you and Krehl like?"
"The late one, boss. We're used to the wee small hours."
"You'll have our black man, Friday. Hazelton, you'll find him a tower of help."
The thud of horses hoofs awoke Sterl before Larry called into the tent: "Two o'clock, boys. Roll out."
Ready to go, the cowboys repaired to the fire for the tea Larry had poured for them. It was scalding hot and strong as acid. The band of horses was huddled between camps and the mob of cattle. They were quiet, only a few grazing. The cattle had bedded down.
"What'll we do, Sterl? Circle or stand guard?"
"Circle, Red, till we get the lay of the herd."
Red rode on into the bright starlight, anal the cold wind brought back the smoke of his cigarette. Sterl turned to walk his horse in the other direction. Old sensorial habits re asserted themselves--the keen ear, the keen eye, the keen nose and the feel of air, wind, cold. The cattle and the horses were quiet. Strange, discordant barks of dingoes lent unreality to the wild. Wide-winged birds or flying foxes passed over his head with silky swish.
In half an hour Sterl heard Red's horse before he sighted it, a moving, ghostly white in the brilliant gloom.
"Fine setup, pard," said Red. "A lazy cowboy job!"
"All well on my side. Go halfway round and stand watch."
"Air kinda penetratin', pard. I reckon I'll mosey to an' fro," returned Red, and rode on.
When Sterl reached the end of a half circle, came the voice of Friday, "Cheeky black fella close up," he said, and vanished.
Sterl swept his gaze in wary half circles. Further outback, this night watch might be a perilous duty. But nothing happened. Friday did not return, although Sterl had a feeling that the black was close. Slowly, mysteriously, the dreaming darkest hour passed.
At the first faint lighting in the east the cattle began to stir. Sterl circled around to meet Red. "Mawnin'," said that worthy. "J'ever see such a tame bunch of cattle? How'd you make out?"
"Just killed time. This sort of work will spoil us. It's after five, Let's ride in."
Breakfast was awaiting them. Two of the wagons were already hitched up. Leslie stood by the fire, drinking tea. Larry came riding up, leading three saddled horses, one of which was Duchess, Leslie's favorite.
Red saw the girl swing up into her saddle with one hand, and said, "Pard, I gotta hand it to thet kid. If Beryl is like her, wal, it's all day with me."
When they rode out on fresh horses the sun had just burst over the eastern bush, and the downs were as if aflame. Drake had the mob ready. Leslie and Larry were driving the straggling horses. Red loped across the wide flank to take up his position on the far right. Friday came along with giant strides, carrying his spears and wommera in his left hand and a boomerang in the other. Leslie rode loping back to turn on the line even with Sterl. Then the four rear riders, pressing forward, drove the horses upon the heels of the cattle, and the day's drive was on. The bustle and hurry before the start seemed to come to an abrupt end in the slow, natural walk of grazing cattle and horses.
Three times before afternoon, Leslie rode over to Sterl on some pretext or other, the last of which was an offer to share a bit of lunch she had brought.
"No thanks, Leslie. A cowboy learns to
Sterl with Leslie crossed over to the center of camp, where Friday was carrying water. Slyter, after rummaging under seat of his wagon, brought a book to Leslie.
"Les, one of your jobs is keeping our journal. Record date, distance trekked, weather, incident, everything."
"Whew! what a job!" exclaimed Leslie. "But I'll love it... How far today?"
"A long trek. Sixteen miles?" asked Slyter, dubiously.
"And then some," interposed Sterl. "Ask Red. He's a wonderful judge of distance... Now, boss, how about night guard?"
"Three changes. Two men on for three hours each. Eight to eleven, eleven to two, two till five. Which watch would you and Krehl like?"
"The late one, boss. We're used to the wee small hours."
"You'll have our black man, Friday. Hazelton, you'll find him a tower of help."
The thud of horses hoofs awoke Sterl before Larry called into the tent: "Two o'clock, boys. Roll out."
Ready to go, the cowboys repaired to the fire for the tea Larry had poured for them. It was scalding hot and strong as acid. The band of horses was huddled between camps and the mob of cattle. They were quiet, only a few grazing. The cattle had bedded down.
"What'll we do, Sterl? Circle or stand guard?"
"Circle, Red, till we get the lay of the herd."
Red rode on into the bright starlight, anal the cold wind brought back the smoke of his cigarette. Sterl turned to walk his horse in the other direction. Old sensorial habits re asserted themselves--the keen ear, the keen eye, the keen nose and the feel of air, wind, cold. The cattle and the horses were quiet. Strange, discordant barks of dingoes lent unreality to the wild. Wide-winged birds or flying foxes passed over his head with silky swish.
In half an hour Sterl heard Red's horse before he sighted it, a moving, ghostly white in the brilliant gloom.
"Fine setup, pard," said Red. "A lazy cowboy job!"
"All well on my side. Go halfway round and stand watch."
"Air kinda penetratin', pard. I reckon I'll mosey to an' fro," returned Red, and rode on.
When Sterl reached the end of a half circle, came the voice of Friday, "Cheeky black fella close up," he said, and vanished.
Sterl swept his gaze in wary half circles. Further outback, this night watch might be a perilous duty. But nothing happened. Friday did not return, although Sterl had a feeling that the black was close. Slowly, mysteriously, the dreaming darkest hour passed.
At the first faint lighting in the east the cattle began to stir. Sterl circled around to meet Red. "Mawnin'," said that worthy. "J'ever see such a tame bunch of cattle? How'd you make out?"
"Just killed time. This sort of work will spoil us. It's after five, Let's ride in."
Breakfast was awaiting them. Two of the wagons were already hitched up. Leslie stood by the fire, drinking tea. Larry came riding up, leading three saddled horses, one of which was Duchess, Leslie's favorite.
Red saw the girl swing up into her saddle with one hand, and said, "Pard, I gotta hand it to thet kid. If Beryl is like her, wal, it's all day with me."
When they rode out on fresh horses the sun had just burst over the eastern bush, and the downs were as if aflame. Drake had the mob ready. Leslie and Larry were driving the straggling horses. Red loped across the wide flank to take up his position on the far right. Friday came along with giant strides, carrying his spears and wommera in his left hand and a boomerang in the other. Leslie rode loping back to turn on the line even with Sterl. Then the four rear riders, pressing forward, drove the horses upon the heels of the cattle, and the day's drive was on. The bustle and hurry before the start seemed to come to an abrupt end in the slow, natural walk of grazing cattle and horses.
Three times before afternoon, Leslie rode over to Sterl on some pretext or other, the last of which was an offer to share a bit of lunch she had brought.
"No thanks, Leslie. A cowboy learns to
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