There were to be no "little-fellow helps" this time. Cheon saw to that,
returning the goodly slice to the Maluka under protest, and urging all to
return again and again for more. How he chuckled as we hunted for the
"luck" and the "wealth," like a parcel of children, passing round bushman
jokes as we hunted.
"Too much country to work," said one of the Macs, when after a second
helping they were both still "missing." "Covered their tracks all
right," said another. The Quiet Stockman "reckoned they were bushed all
right." "Going in a circle," the sick Mac suggested, and then a shout
went up as the Dandy found the "luck" in his last mouthful.
"Perhaps some one's given the "wealth" to his dog," Tam suggested, to our
consternation; for that was more than possible, as the dogs from time to
time had received tit-bits from their masters as a matter of course.
But the man who deserved it most was to find it. As we sat sipping tea,
after doing our best with the cakes and water-melons, we heard strange
gurgles in the kitchen, and then Cheon appeared choking and coughing, but
triumphantly announcing that he had found the wealth in his first
mouthful.
