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Updated: June 18, 2025
They had now crossed another paddock, and had come to the extreme fence on the run. The Gangoil pastures extended much further, but in that direction had not as yet been inclosed. Here they both got off their horses and walked along the fence till they came to an opening, with a slip panel, or movable bars, which had been Heathcote's intended destination.
Gangoil was surrounded by forest, in some places so close as to be impervious to men and almost to animals in which the undergrowth was thick and tortuous and almost platted, through which no path could be made without an axe, but of which the greater portions were open, without any under-wood, between which the sheep could wander at their will, and men could ride, with a sparse surface of coarse grass, which after rain would be luxuriant, but in hot weather would be scorched down to the ground.
Then he was urged to come on and dine at Gangoil, with a promise that Jacko should return with him in the evening. But this he would not do. Heathcote was a pig-headed ass, who possibly regarded him as an incendiary simply because he had bought some land.
He had come out, had failed, had suffered some very hard things, and now, at the age of thirty-five, enjoyed life thoroughly as a sergeant of the colonial police. "You haven't got any thing against anybody here, I should think?" said Joe. "If you want to get them as begun it," said Jack, "and them as ought to be took up, you'll go to Gangoil." "Hold your tongue, Jack," said his brother.
"Bill Nokes was here, whom Heathcote dismissed ever so long ago, and that Chinese cook of his. He dismissed him too, I suppose. And he dismissed Boscobel here." "No one can live at Gangoil any time," said Jack. "Every body knows that. He wants to be lord a'mighty over every thing. But he ain't going to be lord a'mighty at Boolabong." "And he ain't going to burn our grass either," said Joe.
It's a ticklish thing to think that a spark of fire any where about the place might ruin me, and to know at the same time that every man about the run and every swagsman that passes along have matches in their pocket. There isn't a pipe lighted on Gangoil this time of the year that mightn't make a beggar of you and me. That's another reason why I wouldn't have the young un a squatter."
She certainly was the higher in intellect, and the fittest to be the mistress of such an establishment as that at Gangoil. When he had washed his hands and face, and had swallowed the very copious but weak allowance of brandy-and-water which his wife mixed for him, he took the eldest boy on his lap and fondled him. "By George!" he said, "old fellow, you sha'n't be a squatter."
When the words were spoken she felt that they were not as complimentary as she would have wished. "You were to have come to-day, you know, but we did not think you'd come like this, did we?" "I don't know why I didn't go home instead of coming here." "The doctor will reach Gangoil sooner than he could the mill. You are better here, and we will send for Mrs.
There was something in Medlicot's voice and manner which made it impossible to attribute such motives to him. Nevertheless the man was a free-selector, and had taken a bit of the Gangoil run after a fashion which to Heathcote was objectionable politically, morally, and socially.
She and the Gangoil ladies had met each other on neutral ground, and it was almost necessary that they should either be friends or absolute enemies. Mrs. Heathcote had been aware of this, and bad declared that enmity was horrible. "Upon my word," said Harry, "I sometimes think that friendship is more so.
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