received us most hospitably, like all good bushmen, and offered to
assist us in looking for lost cattle. He was a splendid type of the
native-born Australian bushman, over six feet two in height, and simple
and unaffected in his manner. I shall remember this man for one thing.
He had two of the finest teams of working bullocks I have ever seen, and
handled them in a way that commanded our admiration. Never once did he
use his whip for any other purpose than to crack it occasionally, and it
did one good to hear his cheery call to the fourteen labouring beasts as
they toiled up the steep side of a creek or gully with a heavy load of
timber, straining every nerve in their great bodies, while the sweat
poured off their coats in streams. He was like one of his own bullocks,
patient, cheerful, and strong, and an exclamation of anger seldom passed
his lips--an oath never. He took a great pride in the appearance of his
teams, and especially of the fact that no one of them showed the marks
of a whip.

We spent a pleasant hour with this man, and returned home by a different
route, in the hope of getting a "plain" turkey--an altogether different
bird from the "scrub" turkey. Hansen (my mate) was an excellent shot,
especially with a rifle, and indeed when shooting turkeys preferred to
use a 44 Winchester rifle. We managed to get one bird--a cock--but so
old and poor that we gave it to the black contingent to eat. Nothing in
the shape of food came amiss to these people, and their appetites were
astounding. One day Hansen and I were following down a creek which
junctioned with the Reid River, when we saw smoke ascending from a dry
gully. Riding up we came across a very old and shrivelled gin and a boy
and girl of about eight years of age. They were busily engaged in eating
emu eggs, and out of thirteen had already devoured eleven, together
with four or five hundred of fresh-water cockles! Such a meal would
have satisfied half a dozen hungry white men. Their over-loaded stomachs
presented a disgusting appearance, and they were scarcely able to
articulate.

A week after our arrival the blacks told us that there were indications
that the rainy season would come on earlier than usual, and that game,
except duck and spur-winged plover, would be very scarce; also that if
the creek came down in flood, it would carry away most of the fish. This
was bad news for such ardent sportsmen as Hansen and myself, for we were
looking forward to plent