Page:Such Is Life.djvu/281

From Wikisource
Jump to navigation Jump to search
This page has been validated.
SUCH IS LIFE
267

is now. I left her behind when the wind put me on all-fours. Kept pretty well in the same quarter, I think?"

"About the same."

"That'll be a bit of a guide. You'll be staying here till she slackens-down?'

"There's nothing else I can do."

"Well, I'll stay with you. If you shoot me straight for the swamp I'll be right. I'll spell to-night at the tank, and then have a try for my swag."

"You'll find two very decent coves camped at the tank, with the engine and pump. They'll put you on your feet."

"Good again."

"Which way are you travelling?" I asked.

"Any way. Work's scarce; contractors camped for want of water; too late for burr-cutting; nothing doing. I wish to God the rabbits would come something worth while."

And so the profitless conversation (conversation is generally profitless) went on by fits and starts, till the sand and dirt-pellets ceased to drift. Half—an-hour later, it was an almost perfect calm, though the air was still charged with dust.

By this time, I had re-packed, and was ready to start. My guest was now on his feet, but shaky enough. With Bligh-like impartiality, I meted out half a pint of water to him, the same quantity to Pup, and the remaining quarter-pint to myself.

"Got a bit of tobacco to spare?" he asked. "Mine's all in my swag."

"Certainly," I replied. "Are you hard-up? Because I can lend you five bob till we meet again."

"No, thank-you. I've got a couple or three notes left, and even if I had n't, I'd think twice before I touched your money. Money's a peculiar thing."

"Especially in the sense of being peculiar to certain sections of society," I replied. "Now strike straight across there, and you'll fetch the tank in a mile and a half."

"What's your name?" he demanded, as I placed my foot in the stirrup.

"Collins."

"Well, so-long!"

"So-long."

My horses went off freely. I struck the wicket-gate with accuracy and bowled on toward the declining sun, which showed dull and coppery through suspended dust; till, just at that hour which calls the faithful Mussulman to prayer, and the no less faithful sundowner to the station store, I reached my destination.

One glance was enough. Two strange horses were in the paddock; the kerosene-tins still stood in the sheltered angle by the chimney, but the flowers were dead; the smooth-trodden radius round the door was no longer swept except by the winds of heaven, and was becoming a midden whence