ut anybody thinking but she was
going to fetch up the cows, and then cut straight up the gully to the
old yard in the scrub on Nulla Mountain. One of us would meet her there
with a fresh horse and bring her safe into the Hollow. If all went well
she would be there in the afternoon on a certain day; anyhow we'd be
there to meet her, come or no come.

She wouldn't fail us, we were dead sure. She had suffered a lot by him
and us too; but, like most women, the very moment anything happened to
any of us, even to dad, everything flew out of her head, except that
we were sick or sorry and wanted her help. Help, of course; wasn't
she willing to give that, and her rest and comfort, health, even life
itself, to wear herself out, hand and foot, for any one of her own
family?

So poor Aileen made her way up all alone to the old scrub stockyard. Jim
and I had ridden up to it pretty early (he wouldn't stop behind) with a
nice, well-bred little horse that had shone a bit at country races for
her to ride on. We waited there a goodish while, we lying down and our
horses hung up not far off for fear we might be 'jumped' by the police
at any time.

At last we sees the old pony's head coming bobbing along through the
scrub along the worn-out cattle track, grown up as it was, and sure
enough there was Aileen on him, with her gray riding skirt and an old
felt hat on. She'd nothing with her; she was afraid to bring a ha'porth
of clothes or anything for fear they should any of 'em tumble that she
was going a long way, and, perhaps, follow her up. So she had to hand
that over to Warrigal, and trust to him to bring it on some way or
other. We saw her before she saw us, and Jim gave a whistle just as he
used to do when he was coming home late at night. She knew it at once,
and a smile for a minute came over her pale face; such a sad sort of one
it was too, as if she was wondering at herself that she could feel that
pleased at anything.

Whatever thoughts was in her mind, she roused up the old pony, and came
towards us quick as soon as she catches sight of us. In two seconds
Jim had lifted her down in his strong arms, and was holding her off the
ground and hugging her as if she'd been a child. How the tears ran down
her cheeks, though all the time she was kissing him with her arms round
his neck; and me too, when I came up, just as if we were boys and girls
again.

After a bit she wiped her eyes, and said--

'How's father?'

'Very bad,'