“Stealing bread from a caged bird wasn’t in it!” the homestead agreed, with unspeakable scorn; but the man was so reconciled to himself that the scorn passed over him unnoticed.  He even missed the contempt in the Maluka’s cutting “Perfectly!” when he hoped we understood him. (The Outsider, by the way, spoke of the Never-Never as a land where you can Never-Never gel a bally thing you want! the Outsider’s wants being of the flesh pots of Egypt).  It goes without saying that the Maluka sent that neighbour’s mail to him without delay, even though it meant a four-days’ journey for a “boy” and station horses, for the bush-folk do what they can to help each other and the Department in the matter of mails, as in all else.

Fortunately, the Outsider always remained the only exception, and within a day or two of the Fizzer’s visit a traveller passed through going east who happened to know that the “chap from Victoria Downs was just about due at Hodgson going back west,” and one letter went forward in his pocket en route to its owner.  But before the other could be claimed Cheon had opened the last eighty-pound chest of tea, and the homestead fearing the supply might not be equal to the demands of the Wet, the Dandy was dispatched in all haste for an extra loading of stores.  And all through his absence, as before it, and before the Fizzer’s visit, Dan and the elements “kept things humming.”

Daily the soakage yielded less and less water, and daily Billy Muck and Cheon scrimmaged over its yield; for Billy’s melons were promising to pay a liberal dividend, and Cheon’s garden was crying aloud for water.  Every day was filled with flies, and dust, and prickly heat, and daily and hourly our hands waved unceasingly, as they beat back the multitude of flies that daily and hourly assailed us—­the flies and dust treated all alike, but the prickly heat was more chivalrous, and refrained from annoying a woman.  “Her usual luck!” the men-folk said, utilising verandah-posts or tree-trunks for scratching posts when not otherwise engaged.  Daily “things” and the elements hummed, and as they hummed Dan and Jack came and went like Will-o’-the-Wisps—­sometimes from the south-east and sometimes from the north-east; and as they came and went, the Maluka kept his hand on the helm; Happy Dick filled in odd times as he alone knew how; a belated traveller or two passing out came in, and went on, or remained; Brown of the Bulls sent on a drover ahead of the mob to spy out the land, and the second letter left the rack, while all who came in, or went on, or remained, during their stay at the homestead, stood about the posts and uprights waving off flies, and rubbing and wriggling against the posts like so many Uriah Heeps, as they laid plans, gossiped, gave in reports, or “swopped yarns.”  The Territory is hardly an earthly paradise just before the showers.  Still, Cheon did all he could to make things pleasanter, regaling all daily on hop-beer, and all who came in were sure of a welcome from him—­Dan invariably inspiring him with that ever fresh little joke of his when announcing afternoon tea to the quarters.  “Cognac!” he would call, and also invariably, Dan made a great show of expectant haste, and a corresponding show of disappointment, when the teapot only was forthcoming.