A Mystical, Elusive Beauty. Difficult To Define, That Lay Underneath And Around, And Within The Moonlight - A Beauty Of Deep Nestling Shadows, Crooning Whispers, And Soft Rustling Movement.

For a while we dreamed on, and then the Maluka broke the silence.

"The wizard of the Never-Never has not forgotten how to weave his spells while I've been south," he said. "It won't be long before he has the missus in his toils. The false veneer of civilisation is peeling off at a great rate."

I roused as from a trance; and Mac threw a sharp, searching glance at me, as I sat curled up against a swag. "You're right," he laughed; "there's not a trace of the towney left." And rising to "see about fixing up camp," he added: "You'd better look out, missus! Once caught, you'll never get free again. We're all tethered goats here. Every time we make up our minds to clear out, something pulls us back with a jerk."

"Tethered goats!" Mac called us, and the world must apply the simile as it thinks fit. The wizard of the Never-Never weaves his spells, until hardships, and dangers, and privations, seem all that make life worth living; and then holds us "tethered goats"; and every time the town calls us with promises of gaiety, and comfort, and security, "something pulls us back with a jerk" to our beloved bush.

There was no sign of rain; and as bushmen only pitch tent when a deluge is expected, our camp was very simple:

Enter page number Go  Previous Next
Page 24 of 304
Words from 6287 to 6542 of 84691