"I'll try, father," cried the boy, laughing. "I'm not going to be beaten by a couple of girls."

"Off with you, then!"

"Shall I take the dogs, father?"

"Yes. No: not to-day. I shall keep them chained up for another week, to get them more used to the place. They may do what you will not do-- go astray."

Five minutes later Nic was waving his hand to his mother at the window as he strode off, proud and elate, with his gun over his shoulder and his shot belt across his breast, the powder flask peeping out of his breast pocket--for in those days men had not dreamed of even percussion guns, let alone breech-loaders and cart ridges ready to slip into the piece.

"Nic!"

The boy turned to see his father mounted on his chestnut, and with a stock whip in his hand.

"Which way are you going?"

"I want to try and find my way to the edge of the precipice, father, and look down from the Bluff into the great gully."

"Very well. Straight away for a mile--north-west. Shoot any snakes you see. They alarm your mother and sisters, and they are dangerous to the dogs."

The doctor pressed his horse's sides, turned his head, and went off at a canter, looking as if he had grown to its back, and Nic watched him in admiration for a few minutes.

"I wish I could ride like that," he said to himself as he strode off taking great breaths of the elastic air. "Well, father was a boy once, and could not ride any better than I can. I shall try hard."

"Hah! how beautiful it all is!" he said softly, as he paused at the end of a few minutes, to gaze right away; for he had reached an eminence in the park-like land from which he could see, fold upon fold, wave upon wave, the far stretching range of the Blue Mountains.

"And they are blue," he cried aloud, "and blue and lavender and amethyst; but I suppose when one got up to them they would look green and grey and gravelly red. It's the distance, I suppose."

He was quite right: the lovely hues came from seeing the mountains in the distance through the layers of pure air; and after satiating himself for the moment, he strode on, keeping a sharp look-out for snakes and for the animals he was most anxious to see--kangaroos.

But he could only see sheep dotted about in plenty, and farther afield ruddy-looking oxen grazing on the rich gra.s.s, and after a time he began to feel a little disappointed, for, let alone wild animals, he did not see so much as a bird.

He kept on, though, with his eyes wandering in all directions, calling to mind all the different creatures which inhabited the land, and making up his mind that his next walk should be along the riverside.

"There'll be birds in plenty there, and fish; and I may see the curious otter rat sort of thing, with its duck-like bill. If I could only find its nest of eggs!"

He laughed at the absurdity, as it seemed to him, of an animal having so strange a nature, and then began noting how different the trees were from those at home, so many being covered with a greyish-green and pinky foliage, while others seemed to have their leaves stuck on edgewise instead of lying flat, the consequence being that the shade they gave was rather thin.

"A mile north-west," he thought: "I must have come as far as that, but I can see no precipices--only a hill or two yonder. There are some sheep grazing, though, over there. Father's, of course. What a lot he must have!"

He went on in the supposed direction for another five minutes, noticing that the trees were closer together, and that there was more undergrowth, amongst which the creamy-fleeced sheep were wandering; and before entering this undergrowth he took a look round and behind to see that his way home was unmistakable.

"That can't be the bush," he said, with a laugh, as he threaded his way among the trees, and directly after caught sight of a man walking slowly along, evidently inspecting the sheep.

"Hi! Ahoy!" cried Nic; and the man turned. "Why, it's Leather!"

He started off at a trot to join the man, who stood stock still awaiting his approach.

"'Morning, Mr Leather," he cried, as he joined the man, who faced him with his brows knit, and a bitter, sour look in his countenance, as he said morosely:

"'Morning, sir. My name's not Leather."

"Oh! I beg your pardon."

The man laughed unpleasantly, and Nic felt an involuntary dislike to him.

"But I heard them call you Leather."

"Leatherhead generally," said the man roughly: "because I'm such a fool."

"Then it's a nickname," cried the boy, thinking instantly of his own annoyance at school. "I say, I'm very sorry: I didn't know. What is your name?"

"Call me the same as the others do," said the man roughly. "Leather will do."

"Oh, but I should be sorry to say anything to hurt you."

"I'm used to it, young gentleman. Well, what is it? Does your father want me?"

"Oh no: I'm having a walk to see the country. I want to find the Bluff."

"You are on the Bluff," said the man, in his surly tones.

"Oh yes, I know. The whole place is called the Bluff. But I mean where you can stand on the edge and look down into a great gap thousands of feet deep."

"Look round."

Nic looked about him, and then back at the bitter-countenanced man.

"What am I to look at?"

"Can't you see the edge of the Bluff?"

The man took a few paces, winding among the low growth, and Nic followed him, to start back directly in alarm.

"Nothing to mind," said the man; but Nic did not see the freedom from danger, and he involuntarily caught hold of a handful of twigs at the top of the nearest bush to steady himself, as he gazed away down into a mighty valley whose sides looked to be sheer and whose bottom was thousands of feet below. It was like looking down into an open country shut in by a perpendicular wall of mountains where a glittering river ran, and the trees were dwarfed into tiny shrubs, while patches of forest looked like tufts of gra.s.s. The colours were glorious; but for the moment the boy felt nothing but that breathless, shrinking sensation which attacks some people upon a height; and he said huskily:

"How horrible!"

"Yes," said the man gloomily. "Right: how horrible!" and he scowled down at the vast depression.

"No, no," cried Nic excitedly. "How lovely--glorious--grand!"

"No," said the man, without turning his head; "how horrible!"

"Oh no," cried Nic again. "I did not mean it. I was startled. It looks so deep. How do you get down?"

"Step over the edge and fall," said the man bitterly.

"What?"