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Updated: May 6, 2025
Nothing was heard of the Blacks during the next day or two, but one morning Ninnis discovered that an old gun, which the station hands and the black-boys were allowed to use on Sundays for shooting game in the lagoon, had disappeared in the night. Circumstantial evidence pointed to Wombo as the thief. Cudgee owned to having seen him skulking among the Gully rocks.
The Woman in her thrilled to the Man in him. Cudgee, on the hind seat with his back to them, broke the spell. 'My word, Massa!
Maule got up and strolled into the sitting-room, where he seemed engrossed in the pictures on the wall. Just then Cudgee, the black boy, hailed McKeith from the foot of the steps. 'That fellow pollis man want'ing Massa. He sit down long-a Old Humpey. 'All right. McKeith looked into the parlour. 'My wife will entertain you, Maule. I daresay you've got plenty to talk about. I'll see you later.
The country got prettier swelling pastures and stony pinches and a distant outline of hills. They could see the green line of a water course. 'Plenty water sit down along a creek? McKeith asked the black boy. But Cudgee shook his woolly head. 'Ba'al* mine think it, Massa. No rain plenty long time. McKeith sighed. The dark shadow of coming drought is a fearsome spectre on the Never-Never Land.
You've got to have 'em though for stock boys, and I keep my heel on the lot at Moongarr. Wombo and Cudgee aren't bad chaps so long as they are kept clear of their tribe. How do you like the new buggy, my lady? A dandy go-cart, eh? He looked as pleased as a child with a new toy carriage.
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