a bent old black fellow, lived in one, and did little else than
smoke and give his opinion on the weather every morning.

Twenty years ago he had helped to make a steady foundation for
the red cottage that had arrived ready built on a bullock-dray.

Fifteen years ago he had killed with his tomahawk one of two
bushrangers who were trying to pick up Yarrahappini in the
absence of his master, and he had carried little trembling
Mrs. Hassal and tiny Esther to place of safety, and gone back
and dealt the other one a blow on the head that stunned him
till assistance came.

So, of course, he had earned his right to the cottage and the
daily rations and the pipe that never stirred from his lips.

Two of the station hands lived in the other cottage when they
were not out in distant parts of the run.

Close to the house was a long weather-board building with a heavy,
padlocked door.

"Oh, let's go in," Nell said, attracted by the size of the
padlock; "it looks like a treasure-house in a book--mayn't we
go in, please, little grandma?"

They were exploring all the buildings--the six children in a body,
Mrs. Hassal, whom they all called "little grandma," much to her
pleasure, and Esther with the boy.