"Here it is," he continued, producing a little mariner's compa.s.s; "and now be careful. You ought to have had three. Good-bye, boys. Back within the fortnight, mind."

Promises, more farewells, cheers, and twenty minutes later the boys turned their horses' heads on the top of Wallaby Range, as they had named the hills behind the house, at the last point where they could get a view of home, pausing to wave their three hats; and then, as they rode off for the wilds, Shanter, who was driving the packhorse, uttered a wild yell, as he leaped from the ground, and set all the horses capering and plunging.

"What did you do that for?" said Norman, as soon as he could speak for laughing, the effects on all three having been comical in the extreme.

"Corbon budgery. All good. Get away and no work."

"Work?" cried Rifle. "Why, you never did any work in your life."

"Baal work. Mine go mumkull boomer plenty hunt, find sugar-bag. Yah!"

He uttered another wild shout, which resulted in his having to trot off after the packhorse, which took to its heels, rattling the camping equipage terribly, while the boys restrained their rather wild but well-bred steeds.

"Old Tam's so excited that he don't know what to do," cried Tim.

"Yes. Isn't he just like a big boy getting his first holidays."

"Wonder how old he is," said Rifle.

"I don't know. Anyway between twenty and a hundred. He'll always be just like a child as long as he lives," said Norman. "He always puts me in mind of what Tim was six or seven years ago when he first came to us."

"Well, I wasn't black anyhow," said Tim.

"No, but you had just such a temper; got in a pa.s.sion, turned sulky, went and hid yourself, and forgot all about it in half an hour."

"I might be worse," said Tim, drily. "Heads!" he shouted by way of warning as he led the way under a group of umbrageous trees, beyond which they could see Shanter still trotting after the packhorse, which did not appear disposed to stop.

"Well, I'm as glad we've got off as Shanter is," said Rifle as they ambled along over the rich gra.s.s. "I thought we never were going to have a real expedition."

"Why, we've had lots," said Tim.

"Oh, they were nothing. I mean a regular real one all by ourselves.

How far do you mean to go to-night?"

"As far as we can before sunset," said Norman; "only we must be guided by circ.u.mstances."

"Which means wood, water, and shelter," said Tim, sententiously. "I say, suppose after all we were to meet a tribe of black fellows. What should we do?"

"Let 'em alone," said Rifle, "and then they'd leave us alone."

"Yes; but suppose they showed fight and began to throw spears at us."

"Gallop away," suggested Tim.

"Better make them gallop away," said Norman. "Keep just out of reach of their spears and pepper them with small shot."

After a time they overtook the black, and had to dismount to rearrange the baggage on the packhorse, which was sadly disarranged; but this did not seem to trouble Shanter, who stood by solemnly, leaning upon his spear, and making an occasional remark about, "Dat fellow corbon budgery," or, "Dis fellow baal budgery,"--the "fellows" being tin pots or a sheet of iron for cooking damper.

"Fellow indeed!" cried Rifle, indignantly; "you're a pretty fellow."

"Yohi," replied the black, smiling. "Shanter pretty fellow. Corbon budgery."

But if the black would not work during their excursion after the fashion of ordinary folk, he would slave in the tasks that pleased him; and during the next few days their table--by which be it understood the green gra.s.s or some flat rock--was amply provided with delicacies in the shape of 'possum and grub, besides various little bulbs and roots, or wild fruits, whose habitat Shanter knew as if by instinct. His boomerang brought down little kangaroo-like animals--wallabies such as were plentiful on the range--and his nulla-nulla was the death of three carpet-snakes, which were roasted in a special fire made by the black, for he was not allowed to bring them where the bread was baked and the tea made.

So day after day they journeyed on over the far-spreading park-like land, now coming upon a creek well supplied with water, now toiling over some rocky elevation where the stones were sun-baked and the vegetation parched, while at night they spread the piece of canvas they carried for a tent, hobbled the horses, and lay down to sleep or watch the stars with the constellations all upside down.

They had so far no adventures worth calling so, but it was a glorious time. There was the delicious sense of utter freedom from restraint.

The country was before them--theirs as much as any one's--with the bright sunshine of the day, and gorgeous colours of night and morning.

When they camped they could stay as long as they liked; when they journeyed they could halt in the hot part of the day in the shade of some large tree, and go on again in the cool delightful evening; and there was a something about it all that is indescribable, beyond saying that it was coloured by the brightly vivid sight of boyhood, when everything is at its best.

The stores lasted out well in spite of the frightful inroads made by the hungry party: for Shanter contributed liberally to the larder, and every day Norman said it was a shame, and the others agreed as they thought of cages, or perches and chains; but all the same they plucked and roasted the lovely great c.o.c.katoos they shot, and declared them to be delicious.

Shanter knocked down a brush pheasant or two, whose fate was the fire; and one day he came with something in his left hand just as breakfast was ended, and with a very serious aspect told them to look on, while he very cleverly held a tiny bee, smeared its back with a soft gum which exuded from the tree under whose shade they sat, and then touched the gum with a bit of fluffy white cottony down.

"Dat fellow going show sugar-bag plenty mine corbon budgery."

"Get out with your corbon budgery," cried Norman. "What's he going to do?"

They soon knew, for, going out again into the open, Shanter let the bee fly and darted off after it, keeping the patch of white in view, till it disappeared among some trees.

"Dat bee fellow gunyah," cried Shanter, as the boys ran up, and they followed the direction of the black's pointing finger, to see high up in a huge branch a number of bees flying in and out, and in a very short time Shanter had seized the little hatchet Rifle carried in his belt, and began to cut big notches in the bark of the tree, making steps for his toes, and by their means mounting higher and higher, till he was on a level with the hole where the bees came in and out.

"Mind they don't sting you, Shanter," cried Tim.

"What six-ting?" cried Shanter.

"p.r.i.c.k and poison you."

"Bee fellow ticklum," he cried laughing, as he began chopping away at the bark about the hollow which held the nest, and brought out so great a cloud of insects that he descended rapidly.

"Shanter let 'em know," he cried; and running back to the camp he left the boys watching the bees, till he returned with a cooliman--a bark bowl formed by peeling the excrescence of a tree--and some sticks well lighted at the end.

By means of these the black soon had a fire of dead gra.s.s tufts smoking tremendously, arranging it so that the clouds curled up and played round the bees' nest.

"Bee fellow baal like smoke," he cried. "Make bee go bong."

Then seizing the hatchet and cooliman he rapidly ascended the tree, and began to cut out great pieces of dripping honeycomb, while the boys laughed upon seeing that the hobbled horses, objecting to be left alone in the great wild, had trotted close up and looked as if they had come on purpose to see the honey taken.

It was not a particularly clean process, but the result was plentiful, and after piling his bark bowl high, Shanter came down laughing.

"Plenty mine tickee, tickee," he said; but it did not seem to occur to him that it would be advantageous to have a wash. He was quite content to follow back to the camp-fire and then sit down to eat honey and comb till Tim stared.

"I say, Shanter," he cried, "we didn't bring any physic."

"Physic? What physic? Budgery?"

"Oh, very budgery indeed," said Rifle, laughing. "You shall have some when we get back."