Fellow black fellows." But the Red Lilies were beyond our
boundaries, and Monkey was a notorious exception, and shrill cries
approaching the camp at dawn brought us all to our elbows, to find only
the flying foxes returning to the pine forest, fanning inwards this time.
After giving the horses another drink, and breakfasting on damper and
"Lot's wife," we moved on again, past the glory of the lagoons, to further
brumby encounters, carrying a water-bag on a pack-horse by way of
precaution against further "drouths." But such was the influence of
"Lot's wife" that long before mid-day the bag was empty, and Dan was
recommending bloater-paste as a "grand thing for breakfast during the Wet
seeing it keeps you dry all day long."
Further damper and "Lot's wife" for dinner, and an afternoon of thirst,
set us all dreading supper, and about sundown three very thirsty, forlorn
white folk were standing by the duck-under below "Knock-up camp," waiting
for the Quiet Stockman, and hoping against hope that his meat had not
"turned on him"; and when he and his "boys" came jangling down the
opposite bank, and splashing and plunging over the "duckunder" below,
driving a great mob of horses before them we assailed him with questions.
But although Jack's meat was "chucked out days ago" he was merciful to us
and shouted out: "Will a dozen boiled duck do instead? Got fourteen at
one shot this morning, and boiled 'em right off," he explained as we
seized upon his tucker-bags. "Kept a dozen of 'em in case of accidents."
Besides a shot-gun, Jack had much sense.
A dozen cold boiled duck "did" very nicely after four meals of damper and
bloater-paste; and a goodly show they made set out in our mixing dish.
Dan, gloating over them, offered to "do the carving." "I'm real good at
the poultry carving trick, when there's a bird apiece," he chuckled,
spearing bird after bird with a two-pronged fork, and passing round one
apiece as we sat expectantly around the mixing dish, all among the
tucker-bags and camp baggage. And so excellent a sauce is hunger that we
received and enjoyed our "bird apiece" unabashed and unblushingly - the
men-folk returning for further helpings, and the "boys" managing all that
were left.
All agreed that "you couldn't beat cold boiled duck by much"; but in the
morning grilled fish was accepted as "just the thing for breakfast"; then
finding ourselves face to face with Lot's wife, and not too much of that,
we beat a hasty retreat to the homestead; a further opportune "catch" of
duck giving us heart for further brumby encounters and another night's
camp out-bush. Then the following morning as we rode towards the
homestead Dan "reckoned" that from an educational point of view the trip
had been a pronounced success.
