" Jim ran his eye over the ponies and their gear.
"Better have a look at your girths. Come along."

Norah was already in the saddle, exulting over the fact that, in spite
of Jim's prophecy that she would be late, she was the first to be
mounted. Bobs was prancing happily, infected with the gaiety of the
moment, the sweet morning air and sunshine, and the spirit of mirth that
was everywhere. Mick joined him in capering, as Jim swung himself into
the saddle. Billy, leading Polly, and betraying an evident distaste for
a task which so hampered the freedom of his movements, moved off down
the track.

Just as Wally and Harry mounted, a tall figure in pyjamas appeared at
the gate of the back yard.

"There's Dad!" Norah cried gleefully, cantering up to him. The boys
followed.

"Had to get up to see the last of you," Mr. Linton said; "not much
chance of sleeping anyhow, with you rowdy people about."

"Did we wake you, Dad?--sorry."

"Very sorry, aren't you?" Mr. Linton laughed at the merry face. "Well,
take care of yourselves; remember, Norah's in your charge, Jim, and all
the others in yours, Norah! Keep an eye to your ponies, and don't let
them stray too far, even if they are hobbled. And mind you bring me home
any amount of fish, Harry and Wal."

"We will, sir," chorused the boys.

Norah leant from her saddle and slipped an arm round her father's neck.

"Good-bye, Dad, dear."

"Good-bye, my little girl. Be careful--don't forget." Mr. Linton kissed
her fondly. "Well, you're all in a hurry--and so am I, to get back to
bed! So-long, all of you. Have a good time."

"So-long!" The echoes brought back the merry shout as the six ponies
disappeared round the bend in the track.

Down the track to the first gate helter-skelter--Billy, holding it open,
showed his white teeth in a broad grin as the merry band swept through.
Then over the long grass of the broad paddock, swift hoofs shaking off
the dewdrops that yet hung sparkling in the sunshine. Billy plodded far
behind with the packhorse, envy in his heart and discontent with the
fate that kept him so far in the rear, compelled to progress at the
tamest of jogs.

The second paddock traversed, they passed through the sliprails into a
bush paddock known as the Wide Plain. It was heavily timbered towards
one end, where the river formed its boundary, but towards the end at
which they entered was almost cleared, only a few logs lying here and
there, and occasionally a tall