shearer. 'Come and have dinner with us; there's plenty there.'
But the Exception only eats a few mouthfuls, and his appetite is gone; his stomach has become contracted, perhaps.
The Wreck cannot eat at all, and seems internally disturbed by the sight of others eating.
One of the men is a cook, and this morning he volunteered good-naturedly to bake bread for the rest. His mates amuse themselves by chyacking him.
'I've heard he's a dirty and slow cook,' says one, addressing Eternity.
'Ah!' says the cook, 'you'll be glad to come to me for a pint of flour when I'm cooking and you're on the track, some day.'
Sunset. Some of the men sit at the end of the hut to get the full benefit of a breeze which comes from the west. A great bank of rain clouds is rising in that direction, but no one says he thinks it will rain; neither does anybody think we're going to have some rain. None but the greenest jackeroo would venture that risky and foolish observation. Out here, it can look more like rain without raining, and continue to do so for a longer time, than in most other places.
The Wreck went down to the station this afternoon to get some medicine and bush medical advice. The Bourke sawney helped him to do up his swag; he did it with an awed look and manner, as though he thought it a great distinction to be allowed to touch the belongings of such a curiosity. It was afterwards generally agreed that it was a good idea for the Wreck to go to the station; he would get some physic and a
