the stunted trees--that monotony which makes a man long to break
away and travel as far as trains can go, and sail as far as ship can
sail--and farther.

But this bushwoman is used to the loneliness of it. As a girl-wife she
hated it, but now she would feel strange away from it.

She is glad when her husband returns, but she does not gush or make a
fuss about it. She gets him something good to eat, and tidies up the
children.

She seems contented with her lot. She loves her children, but has no
time to show it. She seems harsh to them. Her surroundings are not
favourable to the development of the "womanly" or sentimental side of
nature.

It must be near morning now; but the clock is in the dwellinghouse. Her
candle is nearly done; she forgot that she was out of candles. Some more
wood must be got to keep the fire up, and so she shuts the dog inside
and hurries round to the woodheap. The rain has cleared off. She seizes
a stick, pulls it out, and--crash! the whole pile collapses.

Yesterday she bargained with a stray blackfellow to bring her some wood,
and while he was at work she went in search of a missing cow. She was
absent an hour or so, and the native black made good use of his time.
On her return she was so astonished to see a good heap of wood by the
chimney, that she gave him an extra fig of tobacco, and praised him for
not being lazy. He thanked her, and left with head erect and chest well
out. He was the last of his tribe and a King; but he had built that
wood-heap hollow.

She is hurt now, and tears spring to her eyes as she sits down again by
the table. She takes up a handkerchief to wipe the tears away, but pokes
her eyes with her bare fingers instead. The handkerchief is full of
holes, and she finds that she has put her thumb through one, and her
forefinger through another.

This makes her laugh, to the surprise of the dog. She has a keen, very
keen, sense of the ridiculous; and some time or other she will amuse
bushmen with the story.

She had been amused before like that. One day she sat down "to have a
good cry," as she said--and the old cat rubbed against her dress and
"cried too." Then she had to laugh.

It must be near daylight now. The room is very close and hot because of
the fire. Alligator still watches the wall from time to time. Suddenly
he becomes greatly interested; he draws himself a few inches nearer the
partition, and a thrill runs through his body. The hair on the back of