"My word!" as he puffed his pipe, his back against an ironbark tree, was
most eloquent of long banishment from the delights of the "cultivation-
paddock"; and Barlas nodded frequently his approval, and was less grim
than usual. Yet, peaceful as we were, it might have puzzled a stranger
to see that all of us were armed--armed in this tenantless, lonely
wilderness! Lonely and tenantless enough it seemed. There was the range
of the Copper-mine hills to the south, lighted by the wan moon; and
between and to the west a rough scrub country, desolating beyond words,
and where even edible snakes would be scarce; spots of dead-finish,
gidya, and brigalow-bush to north and east, and in the trees by the
billabong the cry of the cockatoo and the laughing-jackass. It was
lonely, but surely it was safe. Yes, perhaps it was safe!

It was late when we turned in, our heads upon our saddles, for the Cadi
had been more than amusing--he had been confidential, and some political
characters were roughly overhauled for our benefit, while so-called
Society did not escape flagellation. Next morning the Cadi left us. He
gave us his camps--Bora Bora, Budgery-Gar, Wintelliga, and Gilgan--since
we were to go in his direction also soon. He turned round in his saddle
as he rode off, and said gaily: "Gentlemen, I hope you'll always help to
uphold the majesty of the law as nobly as you have sustained its envoy
from your swags."

Drysdale and I waved our hands to him, but Barlas muttered something
between his teeth. We had two days of cattle-hunting in the Copper-mine
hills, and then we started westward, in the tracks of the Cadi, to make
for Barlas's station. The second day we camped at Bora Bora Creek. We
had just hobbled the horses, and were about to build a fire, when Bimbi
came running to us. "Master, master," he said to Drysdale, "that fellow
Cadi yarraman mumkull over there. Plenty myall mandowie!"--(" Master,