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Updated: June 18, 2025
Disregarding the many offers of men willing to guide us along a self-evident track, we started with one riding and one packhorse each. These and the contents of the pack-bags represented all our worldly possessions, but in this we might count ourselves lucky, for many hundreds had to carry their belongings on their backs "humping their bluey," as the expression is.
But that same afternoon, after a most affectionate farewell, and many promises to return as soon as ever he had discharged his obligations, Griffith Gaunt started for the "Packhorse," to carry to Mercy Leicester, alias Vint, the money Catharine Gaunt had saved by self-denial and economy. And he went south a worse man than he came.
He was now riding in front of me, and he stopped, looking down at the trail. "Don't you notice?" It did not strike me. "Why, he keeps walking beside his hawss; he don't get on him." Now we, of course, had mounted at the beginning of the better trail after the steep rock, and that was quite half a mile back. Still, I had a natural explanation. "He's leading a packhorse.
We were all strangers to the corpse. A horseman, who looked like a drover just returned from a big trip, dropped into our dusty wake and followed us a few hundred yards, dragging his packhorse behind him, but a friend made wild and demonstrative signals from a hotel veranda hooking at the air in front with his right hand and jobbing his left thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the bar so the drover hauled off and didn't catch up to us any more.
"Well, all I can say," said Tommy, quietened now, "is that I seen her at Buckolts' Gate that night. I was comin' home from Two-Mile Flat, and I met Jim with his packhorse about a mile the other side of Buckolts', and while we was talkin' Harry Dale caught up, so I jist said 'So-long' an' left 'em. And when I got to Buckolt's Gate I seen Bertha Buckolt.
"Dumb, driven cattle." But getting a vision of life, and working to grow upward to it, that is the work that brings the joy and the greatness. When we are growing and letting our faculties develop, we will love even the packhorse job, because it is our "meal ticket" that enables us to travel upward. "Helping" the Turkeys
Billy plodded far behind with the packhorse, envy in his heart and discontent with the fate that kept him so far in the rear, compelled to progress at the tamest of jogs. The second paddock traversed, they passed through the sliprails into a bush paddock known as the Wide Plain.
Seeing which, Humphrey consoled himself for the delay by buying ample stores of provisions, with which he so loaded the horses that the canon wondered. "There be towns all the way from hence to London, and inns in all the towns," he said. "Thou mayest journey without that packhorse load." But Humphrey was obstinate. "The goods be bought," he said stubbornly.
We'll make Little Muddy Crossing by sundown, and Sunk Creek to-morrow, and the next day'll see us through. Can a wagon get through Sunk Creek Canyon?" The Virginian smiled. "I reckon it can't, seh, and stay resembling a wagon." Balaam told them to saddle Pedro and one packhorse, and drive the bunch of horses into a corral, roping the Judge's two, who proved extremely wild.
"I think you might have," agreed Peter dryly. "By the way, have you had any breakfast?" "No. I'm hungry, come to think of it." "I'll have something sent in from the hotel." "How's Macdonald?" "He's alive and while there's life there is hope." "Any news of the murderers?" asked Gordon. "Posses are combing the hills for them. They stole a packhorse from a truck gardener up the valley.
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