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Updated: May 2, 2025
He would not have told them if they had asked, for his feeble mind was set on reaching the supposed mine before the men whom he thought were going to rob him of it. It was some weeks after he had started out from Tumurti with the old horse that Boss Stobart had found him perishing in a clump of mulgas.
It passed over the mulgas, making them sigh and moan, and then was gone again, leaving the same breathless stillness. Another puff, this time cool and fresh. It also passed away and left the men with dread in their hearts the dread of an unknown, unseen foe. The storm was very near. Sax was watching it so intently that he jumped round suddenly when Yarloo touched him on the arm.
Such is the irony of the desert. Pat Dorrity's horse had been abandoned ten miles back, and the tottering man had walked on, till, when he had managed to stagger to the top of the last sandhill, and had seen two clumps of timber, one of box and one of mulga, his senses had played him false and he had gone to the mulgas. Stobart did not stop to wonder how his old friend had come to such a pass.
His clothes were still lying where he had thrown them, and the boy soon found the tracks of bare feet leading away from the camp into the scrub. Vaughan had gone away to die. Sax listened. The absolute stillness of death was around him on all sides. Not a leaf moved on any of the scraggy mulgas standing near.
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