out, thank you,"
said his daughter, suiting the action to the word. "Had your bath,
Daddy?'

"Just going to it."

"Then I'll race you!" said Norah, snatching a towel and disappearing
down the hall, a slender, flying figure in blue pyjamas. Mr. Linton gave
chase, but Norah's start was too good, and the click of the lock greeted
him as he arrived at the door of the bathroom. The noise of the shower
drowned his laughing threats, while a small voice sang, amid splashes,
"You should have been here last week!"

Breakfast was a merry meal, although, as Norah said, it was unreasonable
to expect anybody to have an appetite at that hour. Still, with a view
to the future, and to avoid wounding Mrs. Brown too deeply, they made as
firm an attempt as possible, with surprisingly good results. Then brief
good-byes were said, the pack scientifically adjusted to the saddle on
the old mare, and they rode off in the cool, dewy morning.

This time there was no "racing and chasing o'er Cannobie Lea" on the way
to Anglers' Bend. Mr. Linton's days of scurrying were over, he said,
unless a bullock happened to have a difference of opinion as to the way
he should go, and, as racing by one's self is a poor thing Norah was
content to ride along steadily by her father's side, with only an
occasional canter, when Bobs pulled and reefed as if he were as anxious
to gallop as his young mistress could possibly be. It was time for lunch
when they at length arrived at the well-remembered bend on the creek.

The horses were unsaddled and hobbled, and then turned out to wander at
their own sweet will--the shortness of the hobbles a guarantee that they
would not stray very far; and the three wanderers sat on the bank of the
creek, very ready for the luncheon Mrs. Brown had carefully prepared and
placed near the top of the pack. This despatched, preparations were made
for pitching camp.

Here luck favoured them, for a visit to their former camping place
showed that tent poles and pegs were still there, and uninjured--which
considerably lessened the labour of pitching the tents. In a very short
time the two tents were standing, and a couple of stretchers rigged up
with bags--Mr. Linton had no opinion of the comfort of sleeping on beds
of leaves. While her father and Billy were at this work, Norah unpacked
the cooking utensils and provisions. Most of the latter were encased in
calico bags, which could be hung in the shade, secure from either ants
or flie