King Jimmy and the swiftly vanishing remnant of his tribe. His big
slab-and-shingle and brick-floored kitchen, with its skillions, built
on more generous plans and specifications than even the house itself,
was the wanderer's goal and home in bad weather. And--yes, owner, on
a small scale, of racehorses, and a keen sportsman.

Jack Denver and Big Ben Duggan were boys together on the old
selections, and at the new provisional bark school at Pipeclay; they
went into the Great North-West together "where all the rovers
go"--stock-riding and droving and overlanding, and came back after a
few years bronzed and seasoned and with wild yarns.

Jack married and settled down on a small run his father had bought
near Talbragar, and his generous family of tall, straight bush boys
and tall, straight bush girls grew up and had their sweethearts. But,
when Jack married, Big Ben Duggan went back again, up into Queensland
and the Great North-West, with a makeshift mate who had also lost his
mate through marriage. Ever and again, after one, and two, and three
years--the periods of absence lengthening as the years went on--Big
Ben Duggan would come back home, and stay a while (till the Great
North-West began to call insistently) at Denver's, where he would be
welcomed jubilantly by all--even the baby who had never seen him--for
there was "something about the man." And, until late on the night
of his return, he and Jack would sit by the fire in winter, or outside
on the woodheap in summer, and yarn long and fondly about the Wide
Places, and strange things they knew and understood.

How sudden things are! Ben was back (just in time for the holidays
and the Mudgee races) out of the level lands, where distance dwells in
her halls of shimmering haze, after following her for five years.