Pip ate enough salt beef and damper to half kill him, drank more tea than he had ever disposed of at one sitting in all his fourteen years, swung himself into his saddle in close imitation of the oldest stockman, and thought if he only could have a black, evil-looking pipe like Tettawonga and the rest of the men his happiness would be complete and his manhood attained.

He reached home as tired as “a dozen dogs and a dingo,” and entertained his sisters and Bunty with a graphic account of the day’s proceedings, dwelling lengthily on his own prowess and the manifold perils he had escaped.

The next day both Esther and Judy rode with the others to the yards to see the departures.

The best of the contingent, which Mr. Hassal had only wanted to separate, not to sell, were driven out through the gate and away to their old fields and pastures stale.

The “wasters,” some hundred and fifty of them, with half a dozen stockmen mounted on the best horses of the place told off for them, were released from their enclosure in a state of frenzied desperation, and, with much cracking of whips and yells, mustered into a herd and driven across the plain in the direction of the road.  And some hour or two later the best “beef” lot were driven forth, and quiet reigned at Yarrahappini once more.  During the two days of excitement the children all decided upon their future professions, which were all to be of a pastoral nature.

Pip was going to be a stockman, and brand and draft cattle all the days of his life.  Judy was going to be his “aide-de-camp”, provided he let her stay in the saddle, and provided her with a whip just as long as his own.  Meg thought she should like to marry the richest squatter in Australia, and have the Governor and the Premier come up for shooting and “things,” and give balls to which all the people within a hundred miles would come.  Nell decided the would make soap and candles, coloured as well as plain, when she arrived at years of discretion; said Baby inclined to keeping paddocks full of pet lambs that never grew into sheep.

Bunty did, not wax enthusiastic over any of the ideas.

“I’d rather be like Mr. Gillet,” he said, and his eyes looked dreamy.

“Pooh! no books and figures far me; give me a run of Salt Bush country, and a few thousand sheep,” said Pip.

“Hear! hear!” chimed in Judy.

“Stoopids!” said Bunty, in a voice of great scorn.  “Doesn’t Mr. Gillet keep the store keys—­just think those currants and figs.”

CHAPTER XVIII The Picnic at Krangi-Bahtoo

Esther had gone to a ball, not in a dress of delicate colour with great puffed sleeves, and a dazzling neck bare and beautiful under its wraps, not through the darkness to a blaze of lights and swinging music.

She had gone, in the broad light of the morning, in a holland suit with a blue Henley shirt, a sailor hat, and a gossamer.