simply the tenant of the Crown, paying a rent computed at so much a
sheep. He had, indeed, purchased the ground on which his house stood,
but this he had done simply to guard himself against other
purchasers. These other purchasers were the bane of his existence,
the one great sorrow which, as he said, broke his heart.

While he was speaking, a rough-looking lad, about sixteen years of
age, came through the parlor to the veranda, dressed very much like
his master, but unwashed, uncombed, and with that wild look which
falls upon those who wander about the Australian plains, living a
nomad life. This was Jacko--so called, and no one knew him by any
other name--a lad whom Heathcote had picked up about six months
since, and who had become a favorite. "The old woman says as you was
wanting me?" suggested Jacko. "Going to be fine to-night, Jacko?"

Jacko went to the edge of the veranda and looked up to the sky. "My
word! little squall a-coming," he said.

"I wish it would come from ten thousand buckets," said the master.

"No buckets at all," said Jacko. "Want the horses, master?"

"Of course. I want the horses, and I want you to come with me. There
are two horses saddled there; I'll ride Hamlet."




CHAPTER II.