them had gone “down” with horses poor; now they were travelling “up” with their horses—­some of them thoroughbreds—­rolling fat, and a cheque for their weeks of back-bending labour in their pockets.  But whether coming or going they always made to Caddagat to camp.  That camping-ground was renowned as the best from Monaro, to Riverina.  It was a well-watered and sheltered nook, and the ground was so rich that there was always a mouthful of grass to be had there.  It was a rare thing to see it without a fire; and the empty jam-tins, bottles, bits of bag, paper, tent-pegs, and fish-tins to be found there would have loaded a dozen waggons.

Thursday evening was always spent in going to Dogtrap, and all the other days had their pleasant tasks and were full of wholesome enjoyment.  The blue senna flowers along the river gave place to the white bloom of the tea-tree.  Grannie, uncle, and aunt Helen filled the house with girl visitors for my pleasure.  In the late afternoon, as the weather got hot, we went for bogeys in a part of the river two miles distant.  Some of the girls from neighbouring runs brought their saddles, others from town had to be provided therewith, which produced a dearth in sidesaddles, and it was necessary for me to take a man’s.  With a rollicking gallop and a bogey ahead, that did not trouble me.  Aunt Helen always accompanied us on our bathing expeditions to keep us in check.  She was the only one who bothered with a bathing-dress.  The rest of us reefed off our clothing, in our hurry sending buttons in all directions, and plunged into the pleasant water.  Then—­such water-fights, frolic, laughter, shouting and roaring fun as a dozen strong healthy girls can make when enjoying themselves.  Aunt Helen generally called time before we were half inclined to leave.  We would linger too long, then there would be a great scramble for clothes, next for horses, and with wet hair streaming on our towels, we would go home full belt, twelve sets of galloping hoofs making a royal clatter on the hard dusty road.  Grannie made a rule that when we arrived late we had to unsaddle our horses ourselves, and not disturb the working men from their meal for our pleasure.  We mostly were late, and so there would be a tight race to see who would arrive at table first.  A dozen heated horses were turned out unceremoniously, a dozen saddles and bridles dumped down anywhere anyhow, and their occupants, with wet dishevelled hair and clothing in glorious disarray, would appear at table averring that they were starving.

The Caddagat folk were enthusiastic anglers.  Fishing was a favourite and often enjoyed amusement of the household.  In the afternoon a tinful of worms would be dug out of one of the water-races, tackle collected, horses saddled, and grannie, uncle, aunt, Frank Hawden, myself, and any one else who had happened to drop in, would repair to the fish-holes three miles distant.  I hate fishing.  Ugh!  The hideous barbarity of shoving a hook through a living worm,