“It reminds me of a banyan tree with corrugated-iron foliage,” he said, adding as he went into details, “In a dim light the finished room would pass for the trunk of the tree and the uprights for the supports of the branches.”

But the Maluka thought it looked more like a section of a mangrove swamp, piles and all.

“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.  “It keeps ’em from toeing the line” he believed; and fearing I was on the point of showing the white feather he broke in with:  “We’ll have to keep her toeing the line, Boss,” and then pointed out that “things might be worse.”  “In some countries there are no trees to cut down,” he said.

“That’s the style,” he added, when I began to laugh in spite of my disappointment, “We’ll soon get you educated up to it.”

But already the Sanguine Scot had found the bright side of the situation, and reminded us that we were in the Land of Plenty of Time.  “There’s time enough for everything in the Never-Never,” he said.  “She’ll have many a pleasant ride along the Reach choosing trees for timber.  Catching the hare’s often the best part of the fun.”

Mac’s cheery optimism always carried all before it.  Pleasant rides through shady forest-ways seemed a fair recompense for a little delay; and my spirits went up with a bound, to be dashed down again the next moment by Dan.

“We haven’t got to the beginning of things yet,” he interrupted, following up the line of thought the Maluka had at first suggested.  “Before any trees are cut down, we’ll have to dig a saw-pit and find a pit-sawyer.”  Dan was not a pessimist; he only liked to dig down to the very root of things, besides objecting to sugar-coated pills as being a hindrance to education.