"It looks very like a house nearly finished," I said severely; for,
because of the verandah and many promises, I was again hopeful for
something approaching that commodious station home. "A few able-bodied
men could finish the dining-room in a couple of clays, and make a mansion
of the rest of the building in a week or so."
But the able-bodied men had a different tale to tell.
"Steady! Go slow, missus!" they cried. "It may look like a house very
nearly finished, but out-bush, we have to catch our hares before we cook
them."
"WE begin at the very beginning of things in the Never-Never," the Maluka
explained. "Timber grows in trees in these parts, and has to be coaxed
out with a saw."
"It's a bad habit it's got into," Dan chuckled; then pointing vaguely
towards the thickly wooded long Reach, that lay a mile to the south of
the homestead, beyond the grassy plain, he "supposed the dining-room was
down there just now, with the rest of the House."
With fast-ebbing hopes I looked in dismay at the distant forest
undulating along the skyline, and the Maluka said sympathetically, "It's
only too true, little un'."
But Dan disapproved of spoken sympathy under trying circumstances.
