g from
the opposite bank of the creek, and then a parrot screamed shrilly--and
I knew that rain was certain. I jumped up, carried my blanket, saddle,
and gun into the house, and then went out to collect firewood. My horse,
as he heard my footsteps, bounded up, hobbled as he was, from the bed
of the creek, and neighed to me in the darkness. He too smelt the coming
rain, and was speaking to me out of his gladness of heart. I called back
to him, and then set to work and soon collected a number of dry logs,
which I carried in to the hut and threw down on the hard earthen floor
made of pulverised ant heaps, just as the welcome thunder muttered away
off in the distance.

I brought a burning brand from the fire, threw it inside, and then
called to my horse. Taking off his hobbles, I slipped the bridle over
his head, and brought him in under shelter of the verandah, where he
stood quietly, with a full stomach and contented mind, watching the
coming storm.

Half an hour later the iron roof of the house was singing a sweet,
delightful tune to the heavy down-pouring rain, which, till long past
midnight, fell in generous volume, the dry, thirsty soil drinking it
in with gladness as it closed up the gaping fissures, and gave hope and
vigour and promise of life to the parched and perishing vegetation of
the wide plains around.

With supreme satisfaction I sat at the open door, and smoked and
watched, with my fire blazing merrily away; then, before it was too
late, I stripped off, and went out and let the rain wash off the dust
and dirt of a day's journey under a fierce, baking sun. How cool,
delightful, and invigorating it felt!

I dried myself with a spare shirt, and then lay down on my blanket
beside the fire to listen contentedly to the clamour of the rain upon
the roof. About two in the morning the downpour ceased, the sky cleared,
and a fair half-moon of silvery brightness shone out above the tops of
the white gum forest. Fifty yards or so away, in front of the door, a
shallow pool had formed in a depression of the hard, sun-baked soil, and
as the soft light of the moon fell upon it there came a whirr of wings
as a flock of night-roving, spur-winged plover lit upon its margin. I
could have shot half a dozen of them from where I sat, but felt that I
could not lift gun to shoulder and slaughter when there was no need,
and their shrill cries, as they ran to and fro, afforded me an infinite
pleasure.

I took off my horse's br