, the men feverishly
discussing the great news of the robbery and the possibility of a riot
extending over the whole of the rushes. Whilst sitting on the log
thinking of what he had heard, Jim saw Aurora approach Lambert. She was
visibly excited, and offered him an eager hand.

'Did I do well?' she asked.

Lambert seized her hand and pressed it warmly. 'Splendidly, my girl,' he
said. 'A man couldn't want a better audience. Like a true Irishwoman,
you're the twin sister of Liberty, Miss Aurora.'

Done drew Aurora to his side a few minutes later. 'So,' he said lightly,
'my Joy is a conspiratress.' 'It's the hard name, me darlin',' she
answered, taking his hand between hers. 'I just promised Lambert to have
the half of Jim Crow here to hear him an' I'm afther keepin' me word.'

XIV

THE rising Lambert had anticipated in August did not come off. For a few
days the country trembled on the verge of civil war, but the blow did not
fall. The trouble was averted; the anger remained in men's hearts. During
the lovely spring weather that followed Done saw much of the Bush. He and
Mike spent weeks prospecting about the Jim Crow district. They loitered
away a few restful days among the ranges, and for the first time Jim saw
a wattle-gully in full blaze, a stream of golden bloom sweeping along the
course of a little mountain creek as far as the eye could see, each tree
a huge bouquet, the whole mass foaming in the gentle breeze, a rich feast
of colour, lit up by a glowing noonday sun, and bordered by the subdued
green of the mountain gums. The delicate perfume stole up to where the
mates lay on the side of the range in peaceful enjoyment of the scene,
and Done, looking with half-closed eyes, day-dreaming, felt the
inspiration that has since driven about twenty-five per cent of the
native-born population of Australia desperately to poesy.

Beyond and below them stretched the Bush, an ocean of tree-tops, as level
as the windless sea, and over this green expanse shadows of fleecy clouds
chased each other. Presently Jim discovered a brown space in the
distance, and detected a thin column of smoke rising on occasions between
the vagrant winds. He called Burton's attention, and Mike turned
experienced eyes in that direction.

'A settler's clearing,' he said. 'No; by Jove, it's Macdougal's
homestead!'

'What!' cried Done, sitting up with a jerk. 'Donald Macdougal's station?'

'Yes, Monkey Mack's.' Burton rose to his feet and looke