Every one but Dan was speechless, while Billy, not being a slave to
tea-drinking, gathered the raisins up, failing to see any cause for
disappointment, particularly as most of the raisins fell to his share
for his prompt return.
He also failed to see any advantage in setting out again for the
Katherine. "Might it catch raisins nuzzer time," he said, logically
enough.
Dan became despondent at the thought. "They're fools enough for
anything," he said. I tried to cheer him up on the law of averages, as
Goggle-Eye was sent off with instructions to travel "quick-fellow,
quick-fellow, big mob quick-fellow," and many promises of reward if he
was back in "four fellow sleeps."
For two more days we peered into the forest for travellers but none
appeared, and Dan became retrospective. "We might have guessed this 'ud
happen," he said, declaring it was a "judgment on the missus" for
chucking good tea away just because a fly got into it. "Luck's cleared
right out because of it, missus," he said; "and if things go on like this
Johnny'll be coming along one of these days." (Dan was the only one of
us who could joke on the matter.)
"Luck's smashed all to pieces," he insisted later, when he found that the
first pillow was finished; but at sundown was inclined to think it might
be "on the turn again," for Goggle-Eye appeared on the north track,
stalking majestically in front of a horseman.
