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I asked, putting on a pair of large, round, clouded lenses, which my experience of ophthalmia has warned me to carry continually. Then, without interrupting my good host's torrent of unrepeatable congratulation, I turned aside and unstrapped a portion of Bunyip's pack. Presently I advanced and resumed my seat, with the ancestor of all pipes pendent from my mouth.
My horses, of course, were among the captives; each of them with both hobble-straps buckled round the same leg. Early in the reception, whilst treating for them, I was fairly disconcerting Mr. Smythe with my affability, when that sudden consternation came over me. Where was Pup? I put the two pairs of hobbles round Bunyip's neck, and saddled Cleopatra without delay.
We therefore tied Fancy beside Thompson's horse at the rear of his wagon, and disposed Bunyip's pack-saddle and load on the top of the wool; the horse, of course, following Fancy according to his daily habit. A quarter of a mile of stiff pulling through the sand of the pine-ridge, and the plain opened out again.
Can I do anything for you at the station?" he added, after a pause. "Any message, or anything?" "By-the-way, yes, Alf, if you'll be so good. When will you be going across?" "To-day," he replied. "I'm not going round the paddock." I drew my writing-case from Bunyip's pack; and this was the note I pencilled: Wallaby Track, l0/ 2/'84 Dear Jack