cuddling his old gun and walking the lean sheep track in the half light with the snarl of shingle on rocks straight below. Ted stood up, cleansed his hands in the tussock spines, and said :
"That makes the hundred, sir."
Scannell kicked at a fallen flutter of green and red feathers.
"Brutes!" he said. "They're hanging about late this year. We must work 'em systematic- ally when shearing's done, Ted."
Ted's hand gripped on his rifle. He spoke very low.
" 'Fraid you'll hev to git someone else to run that game. I — want to leave arter shearin's done."
"Leave! Leave! You don't know what you're talking about. Leave Maias! You couldn't do it, Ted."
"I wants ter leave after shearin'." Scannell caught the shake in the tone.
"Are you tired of the old life, Ted?"
"No! You knows I ain't! But — I wants ter go."
"Why?"
There was a silence. The very far murmur of sheep plucked at Ted's heart strings. The mighty head of the Brothers across the river and across the lower hUls called him in every grand curve of it against the stars. At his feet the downs rolled away; dimpled, and lush
