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Name: Class: Date:
chapter 7
Copyright Cengage Learning. Powered by Cognero. Page 1
Indicate whether the statement is true or false.
1. Capitalization, or lack thereof, makes no difference with UNIX and Linux commands.
a. True
b. False
2. In UNIX and Linux, everything except monitors are considered files.
a. True
b. False
3. The term "kernel" is often used when discussing Linux because technically, Linus is only the core of the OS.
a. True
b. False
4. Linux is a certified UNIX operating system.
a. True
b. False
5. The only pieces of metadata not in an inode are the filename and path.
a. True
b. False
Indicate the answer choice that best completes the statement or answers the question.
6. What is the minimum size of a block in UNIX/Linux filesystems?
a. 128 bytes
b. 512 bytes
c. 1024 bits
d. 2048 bits
7. What file under the /etc folder contains the hashed passwords for a local system?
a. passwd
b. hashes
c. shadow
d. users
8. What type of block does a UNIX/Linux computer only have one of?
a. boot block
b. data block
c. inode block
d. superblock
9. What file is used to store any file information that is not in the MDB or a VCB?
a. page file
b. metadata database file

Name: Class: Date:
chapter 7
c. slack file
d. extents overflow file
10. Adding the _____________ flag to the ls -l command has the effect of of showing all files beginning with the "."
character in addition to other files.
a. -s
b. -d
c. -l
d. -a
11. The ______________ command can be used to see network interfaces.
a. ifconfig
b. ipconfig
c. show interfaces
d. show ip brief
12. Select below the command that can be used to display bad block information on a Linux file system, but also has the
capability to destroy valuable information.
a. dd
b. fdisk
c. badblocks
d. mke2fs
13. Who is the current maintainer of the Linux kernel?
a. Tim Cook
b. Eric Shmidt
c. Linus Torvalds
d. Lennart Poettering
14. As part of a forensics investigation, you need to recover the logon and logoff history information on a Linux based
OS. Where can this information be found?
a. /var/log/utmp
b. /var/log/wtmp
c. /var/log/userlog
d. /var/log/system.log
15. In a B*-tree file system, what node stores link information to previous and next nodes?
a. inode
b. header node
c. index node
d. map node
16. What command below will create a symbolic link to a file?
a. ln -s
b. ls -ia

Name: Class: Date:
chapter 7
c. ln -l
d. ls -h
17. The Mac OS reduces file fragmentation by using _______________.
a. inodes
b. superblocks
c. clumps
d. chunks
18. If a file has 510 bytes of data, what is byte 510?
a. The physical EOF.
b. The logical EOF.
c. The terminating EOF.
d. The end of the sector.
19. On Mac OS X systems, what utility can be used to encrypt / decrypt a user's home directory?
a. Disk Utility
b. BitLocker
c. FileVault
d. iCrypt
20. ________________ is a specialized carving tool that can read many image file formats, such as RAW and Expert
Witness.
a. AccessData FTK
b. X-Ways Forensics
c. Guidance Software EnCase
d. Foremost
21. ________________ contain file and directory metadata and provide a mechanism for linking data stored in data
blocks.
a. Blocks
b. Clusters
c. Inodes
d. Plist files
22. A hash that begins with "$6" in the shadow file indicates that it is a hash from what hashing algorithm?
a. MD5
b. Blowfish
c. SHA-1
d. SHA-512
23. Where is the root user's home directory located on a Mac OS X file system?
a. /root
b. /private/var/root
c. /private/spool/root

Name: Class: Date:
chapter 7
d. /home/root
24. Within the /etc/shadow file, what field contains the password hash for a user account if one exists?
a. 1st field
b. 2nd field
c. 3rd field
d. 4th field
25. What information below is not included within an inode?
a. The mode and type of the file or directory
b. The number of links to a file or directory
c. The file's or directory's last access time and last modified time
d. The file's or directory's path
Enter the appropriate word(s) to complete the statement.
26. An assigned inode has _____ pointers that link to data blocks and other pointers where files are stored.
27. Since Mac OS 8.6, _______________ have been available for use in managing passwords for applications, web sites,
and other system files.
28. ________ links are simply pointers to other files and aren't included in the link count.
29. With Linux commands, arguments consisting of multiple letters must be preceded by two ___________ characters
instead of one and can't be grouped together.
30. The _____________ is the listing of all files and directories on a volume and is used to maintain relationships between
files and directories on a volume.
Match each term with its definition:
a. B*-tree b. data block
c. logical block d. inodes
e. Volume Control Block f. Allocation Block
g. header node h. data fork
i. superblock j. resource fork
31. In the Mac file system, a group of consecutive logical blocks assembled in a volume when a file is saved.
32. A node that stores information about B*-tree file.
33. A Mac file that organizes the directory hierarchy and file block mapping for File Manager.
34. The part of a Mac file containing file metadata and application information, such as menus, dialog boxes, icons,
executable code, and controls. Also contains resource map and header information, window locations, and icons.
35. The part of a Mac file containing the file's actual data, both user-created data and data written by applications, as well

Name: Class: Date:
chapter 7
as a resouce map and header information, window locations, and icons.
36. In the Mac file system, a collection of data that can't exceed 512 bytes. Assembled in allocation blocks to store files in
a volume.
37. A key part of the Linux file system, these informatuin nodes contain descriptive file or directory data, such as UIDS,
GIDs, modification times, access times, creation times, and file locations.
38. A block in the Linux file system that specifies and keep tracks of the disk geometry and available space and manages
the file system.
39. A block in the Linux file system where directories and files are stored on a drive.
40. An area of the Mac file system containing information from the Master Directory Block.
41. Linux supports a wide range of file systems. Distinguish the three Extended File Systems of Linux.
42. What are bad blocks, and how do you find them?
43. UNIX and Linux have four components defining the file system. Identify and give a brief description of each.
44. As you’ve learned, Linux commands use options to create variations of a command. Describe the rules for grouping
letter arguments.
45. Describe a tarball.
46. Compare and contrast the data fork and resource fork of a Mac file.
47. After making an acquisition on a Mac computer, the next step is examining the image of the ﬁle system with a
forensics tool. Explain how to select the proper forensics tool for the task.
48. Explain why one should have Apple factory training before attempting an acquisition on a Mac computer.
49. Explain the differences between a hard link and a symbolic link.
50. What is a plist file?

Name: Class: Date:
chapter 7
Answer Key
1. False
2. False
3. True
4. False
5. True
6. b
7. c
8. a
9. d
10. d
11. a
12. c
13. c
14. b
15. c
16. a
17. c
18. b
19. c
20. d
21. c
22. a
23. b
24. b
25. d

Name: Class: Date:
chapter 7
26. 13
27. keychains
28. Symbolic
29. -
30. catalog
31. f
32. g
33. a
34. j
35. h
36. c
37. d
38. i
39. b
40. e
41. Linux supports a wide range of file systems. The early standard was Second Extended File System (Ext2), and then
Third Extended File System (Ext3) replaced Ext2 in most Linux distributions. Its major difference from Ext2 was being
a journaling file system, which has a built-in file recovery mechanism used after a crash.
A few years later, Fourth Extended File System (Ext4) was introduced. Among other features, it added support for
partitions larger than 16 TB, improved management of large files, and offered a more flexible approach to adding file
system features. Because these changes affected the way the Linux kernel interacts with the file system, adoption of Ext4
was slower in some Linux distributions, but it’s now considered the standard file system for most distributions. The
Ubuntu version you used previously, for example, has an Ext4 partition at its core, unless you select another file system
during installation.
42. All disks have more storage capacity than the manufacturer states. For example, a 240 GB disk might actually have
240.5 GB free space because disks always have bad sectors. Windows doesn’t keep track of bad sectors, but Linux does in
an inode called the bad block inode. The root inode is inode 2, and the bad block inode is inode 1. Some forensics tools
ignore inode 1 and fail to recover valuable data for cases. Someone trying to mislead an investigator can access the bad
block inode, list good sectors in it, and then hide information in these supposedly “bad” sectors.
To find bad blocks on your Linux computer, you can use the badblocks command, although you must log in as root to
do so. Linux includes two other commands that supply bad block information: mke2fs and e2fsck. The badblocks
command can destroy valuable data, but the mke2fs and e2fsck commands include safeguards that prevent them from

Name: Class: Date:
chapter 7
overwriting important information.
43. UNIX/Linux has four components defining the file system: boot block, superblock, inode block, and data block.
The boot block contains the bootstrap code--instructions for startup.
The superblock contains vital information about the system and is considered part of the metadata.It specifies the disk
geometry and available space and keeps track of all inodes. It also manages the file system, including configuration
information, such as block size for the drive, file system names, blocks reserved for inodesm and volume name.
Inode blocks contain the first data after the superblock. An inode is assigned to every file allocation unit. As files or
directories are created or deleted, inodes are also created or deleted.
The data block is where directories and files are stored on a disk drive. This location is linked directly to inodes. A data
block is equivalent to a cluster of disk sectors on a FAT or NTFS volume.
44. Linux commands use options to create variations of a command. There’s no difference between grouping letter
arguments (such as l and a) after a single - or entering them separately. Therefore, ls -la functions the same as ls -
l -a. Arguments consisting of multiple letters must be preceded by two -- characters instead of one and can’t be
grouped together, as in ls --all.
45. A tarball is a highly compressed data file containing one or more files or directories and their contents. It's similar to
Windows zip utilitied and typically has a .tar or .gz extension.
46. In Mac, a file consists of two parts: a data fork, where data is stored, and a resource fork, where file metadata and
application information are stored. Both forks contain the following essential information for each file:
-Resource Map
-Resource header information for each file
-Windows location
-Icons
The data fork typically contains data the user creates, such as text or sprreadsheets. Applications, such as Microsoft Word
or Excel, also read and write to the data fork.
When you're working with an application file, the resource fork contains additional information, such as menus, dialog
boxes, icons, executable code, and controls.
47. After making an acquisition, the next step is examining the image of the file system with a forensics tool. The tool you
use depends on the image file’s format. For example, if you used EnCase, FTK, or X-Ways Forensics to create an Expert
Witness (.e0l) image, you must use one of these tools to analyze the image. If you made a raw format image, you can use
any of the following tools:
• BlackBag Technologies Macintosh Forensic Software (OS X only)
• SubRosaSoft MacForensicsLab (OS X only)
• Guidance Software EnCase
• X-Ways Forensics
• AccessData FTK
48. To examine a Mac computer, you need to make an image of the drive, using the same techniques described in Chapter
5. You should be aware of some exceptions, however, caused by Mac design and engineering. (In addition, removing the
drive from a Mac Mini case is difficult, and attempting to do so without Apple factory training could damage the
computer. A MacBook Air poses similar problems, as you need special Apple screwdrivers to open the case.) You need a
Mac-compatible forensic boot CD/DVD to make an image, which then must be written to an external drive, such as a
FireWire or USB drive. Larger Macs are constructed much like desktop PCs, making removal of the hard drive easier.

Name: Class: Date:
chapter 7
49. A hard link is a pointer that allows accessing the same file by different filenames. The filenames refer to the same
inode and physical location on a drive, and increases the link count within the file's inode. A symbolic link is simply a
pointer to other files, and does not increase the link count. Symbolic links have their own inodes, and can be used to point
to files on other drives or on remote network locations.
50. Plist files are preference files for installed applications on a system, usually stored in /Library/Preferences.
These files can exist in plain XML form, or binary form, which consists of condensed XML.

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As soon as she could get through the admiring throng, Mrs.
Flynn hastened home, and before long the baby, washed and
dressed anew, was filling its "little Mary" with sweet new milk.
CHAPTER XI
THE BREAKING-UP
"With trumping horn and juvenile huzzas,
At going home to spend their Christmas days,
And changing Learning's pains for Pleasure's toys."
TOM HOOD.
Out through the gateway of the National School, on one sultry
afternoon in late December, tumbled a pack of noisy boys and
scarcely less noisy girls; the while they kicked up a fine dust, yelling
in an uproarious fashion. Were you, a stranger, to ask the cause of
this demonstration of voice and capering limbs, you would be
answered by a score of voices in rousing chorus—
"Hip, hip, hurray for Christmas Day!
School's broke up, hip, hip, hurray!"

However strongly one might be disposed to question the quality of
the couplet as he listened to the trumpetings of this cluster of
children, he would cheerfully admit the gusto of the proceedings as
the juveniles issued pell-mell.
If truth be told, the master was no less pleased than the
youngsters when the actual moment of dismissal came. Like all
schools, this particular one was infected for weeks previously with a
spirit of restlessness, which made it well-nigh impossible to secure
the undivided attention of the children. There was no disposition for
serious study, and Simpson, who was a wise teacher, attempted no
coercive measures. Natural history was presented in its most
attractive forms. Grammar and arithmetic were for the most part
tabooed, and instead of puzzling refractory brains with arithmetical
and grammatical abstractions, the children lived in the jungles of
India, crossed Sahara, took a trip to the Booties, wandered into
Arctic circles, or, what was equally exciting, made transcontinental
trips in company with Sturt, Burke and Wills, Leichhardt, and other
great Australian explorers.
Many were the schemes unfolded and plans laid by the boys
during the last schooldays. The holidays would not be an undiluted
playtime to any one of the boys. Many of the lads would work hard
on the farms; their parents, bearing in mind the old adage of Satan
and idle hands, will take good care to anticipate the sinister designs
of that interfering old gentleman. The wood pile stood as an
unfailing object of labour. Sheds were awaiting the whitewash brush.
Fowl houses loomed expectant. Fences demanded attention. These,
and many other duties about house and farm, were put off till the
"holidays."

There were other anticipations, however, far more highly
coloured and bewitching than these. Charm the schoolboy never so
wisely, his thoughts, with a dogged obstinacy or triumphant
breakaway, return to the delectable things of the groves, streams,
mountains, and plains. Horse, gun, dog, rod, bat, duck, quail,
pigeon; perch, bream, mullet; kangaroo, wallaby, dingo, brumby,
scrubber! These are the sources and instruments of pleasure; things
that people the imagination, and make an earthly paradise.
Sobering down, after an unusual indulgence in larks to mark the
auspicious event, Joe, Tom, and Sandy, separating from the others,
sauntered to the slip-rail entrance of the school horse-paddock. Joe
and Tom, at the express request of Mrs. M'Intyre, are to spend the
holidays with Sandy on the station. Here all kinds of fun and alluring
adventure are promised the lads. How well that promise was
redeemed let the sequel bear witness.
"Now then, you fellows, don't forget that you are to be at
Bullaroi on the morning of Christmas Eve without fail."
"I say, ole boss, what does eve mean?"
"Eve! Why, a—er—short for evening, I s'pose. What makes you
ask, Joe?"
"Well, if Christmas Eve is evening, how can we be there in the
mornin'?—you savee?"
"You're mighty smart, Blain, but did you ever know an evening
that didn't have a morning to it?"
"Oh—ah—yes, I see. We're to come out on the morning of the
evening. Sure it's an Irishie ye ought to be instead of a Scotchie."
"Scotchie or no Scotchie," replied Sandy, who was the essence
of good-humour, "ye're not to be later than ten o'clock of the

forenoon of the day before Christmas. There! Will that fit you, you
pumpkin-headed son of a bald-bellied turnip?"
"Thanks, M'Intyre; I'm sure my father'll be delighted when I tell
him the respectful titles you've given him," returned Joe, with mock
sarcasm.
"He'll no dispute the title of his son's head, anyhow," flung back
the Scotch lad, as, bridle in hand, he strolled on to round up his
steed.
This parthian shot nettled Joe, but the answer he would have
given remained unuttered, for at this moment his eldest sister
appeared and beckoned to him in an emphatic manner, at the same
time calling upon him to hurry. So, contenting himself with levelling
Midshipman Easy's masonic sign at the retreating lad, he hurried
along towards his sister.
"Father wants you to go down the river with him in the boat."
"Where's it to?"
"Down to Beacon Point. Tom Tyler's had a bad accident, and
they've sent for the doctor; but he's away. He was called out to a
bad case at Dingo Creek head station, and is not expected to be
back till midday to-morrow. So they've asked father to go down, and
you've to hurry along. Father's waiting down at the boat for you."
Mr. Blain was waiting at the boat with everything that was
required for the trip. As soon as the lad was in, he pushed off, and,
taking the stern oar, with Joe at the bow, father and son started on
their twelve-mile pull.
In answer to the boy's question the minister gave some details
of the accident, and, further, informed the lad that it was his

intention to call at Mrs. Robinson's, distant about five miles from
Tareela.
They had now settled down to a steady stroke, and as the sun
was on its westering wheel, and the sting out of its slanting rays, the
row became enjoyable. Mr. Blain was a sort of newsletter to the
settlers, and in his trips up-stream and down-stream was frequently
hailed and made the target of questioning from the riverbank.
Robinsons' was reached a little before sunset, where they were
made abundantly welcome. Some years previously Mr. Robinson met
his death by one of those accidents all too common in new
settlements. Felling scrub timber is a risky performance. It so
happened that in felling a stout fig tree, Robinson failed to notice
some lawyer vines that, hanging from the high branches, had
attached themselves to the bare limbs of an adjacent dead tree.
Standing at the base and watching the toppling fig tree, as it
slowly swayed preparatory to its final crash, he was unaware that
the cable-like vines were retarding its progress. Gathering way,
however, the falling tree brought a strain upon the vine, and tore
away a heavy limb of the dead tree. This falling upon the axe-man,
killed him instantly.
The widow was blest with a family of boys and girls who were
true grit. Misfortune breaks some people—it makes others. The latter
was the truth in this case.
In all the trying times Mrs. Robinson underwent, the minister
was her friend and counsellor.
CHAPTER XII

DOWN THE RIVER
"When the full moon flirts with the perigee tide,
On a track of silver away we ride,—
Oh, glorious times we have together,
My boat and I in the summer weather."
ELLA WHEELER WILCOX.
The boat was sighted from Robinsons' some time before its nose
grated on the shingle at the landing-place.
Isaac, the younger son, a giant in stature and a prime favourite
with Joe, was at the landing-stage. Seizing the bow what time it
touched land, he half lifted, half dragged the boat two-thirds of her
length out of the water, and made her fast to an old stump.
"Mother's so glad you've come, sir. She wants to talk with you
about that boy of Maguire's, who's bin givin' us a lot of trouble."
"Won't be able to stay long, Ike. We've got to be at Beacon
Point to night. We just put in for a cup of tea and a bite. Mother's
inside, I suppose? I'll go in and have a chat with her."
"You'll find her in the kitchen, sir. When we saw you roundin'
Piccaniny Point we knew you'd be here for tea, and mother's lookin'
after things."
"I hope she won't go to any trouble. A mouthful is all we want."
"Well, you know mother, sir. She feels that nothin' is near good
enough."
"Any pancakes for tea, Ike?"

"Pancakes! Why, of course. That's what mother's makin' now.
She knew that'd be the first thing you'd be askin' fur, Joe."
"Rather, Ike!" said Joe, pursing his mouth and drawing in his
breath with the peculiar, half-whistling, unwriteable sound which
boys instinctively make when visions of goodies arise. More
especially when such goodies come within measurable distance of
consumption.
Master Joe had a healthy boy's appetite. The rowing exercise
gave additional spice to his hunger. Pancake was at that moment the
gate of entry to the boy's very material heaven.
"Tea won't be ready fur a few minutes, Joe. Let's go down to
the barn. I was just goin' to rub some more mixture inter the skins
when I seen your boat roundin' the point. Sorry you're goin' on, my
son. When I seen you on the river I ses to meself, ses I, 'By George!
Joey an' I'll have a great night at the 'possums.' I wish to goodness
you'd been stayin'. There'll be a grand moon ter night, an it's very
temptin'."
"By gum, ain't it just! It'd be simply, rippin'. 'Member last time I
was down? That was a grand bit of sport we had. Forty-seven was it,
or forty-nine? I know it took a dashed long time to skin 'em."
"Forty-seven it was. We'd do over fifty to-night."
"Well, as mother says, 'What can't be cured must be endured.'
By dad! that's a grand wallaby skin! Where'd you get it?"
"Got it larst night." Ike had the Colonial drawl to perfection. "I
was up at the top end of the scrub cultivation paddick, mooseying
around after some cockatoos that'd bin skinnin' the corn. It was just
about dusk, an' I was waitin' in the corner for the cockies, as I knew
they'd soon be leavin' fur their roosts, an' my bes' charnse at 'em

was on the wing. They're so 'tarnal cute, yer know, yer carn't git 'em
on the corn."
"I know. Didn't I try my best to stalk 'em the last time I was
down, Ike! I got three altogether, you 'member, an' you said it'd be a
crest apiece to take home to the girls."
"Waal, as I was sayin', I'd sarcumvented the ole boss cockie,
which was keeping watch in the dead gum-tree that stood in the
middle of the patch, an' was posted in the middle of the corner
expectin' them ter fly over every minit. But ole Pincher, who was
chevyin' about, starts this ere boss outer the pumpkin vines; they're
death on pumpkins, yer know. The dorg made a dash at 'im, an', by
jings! he did streak. Greased lightnin' wasn't in it with 'im. I tried to
draw a bead on 'im, but, what with the dusk an' the bushes an'
stumps, I couldn't get a good line. I banged away one barril, but
was yards off, I reckon.
"Pincher, he disappeared in a brace of shakes, an' I made sure
the vermin ud get through a 'ole in the fence. I was makin' for 'ome,
'cause the cockies, yer know, 'ad all gone. All of a suddent I heers a
yelp, an' knew ole Pinch 'ad somehow 'eaded 'im. Reckon 'e missed
the 'ole, or the dorg'd never got near 'im. Anyhow, 'e was a-streakin'
a bit now, an' Pinch at 'is 'eels. He was makin' fur the maize agen. I
lined 'im this time all right, though it was a longish shot; about sixty-
five I reckon; an' dropped 'im clean at the very edge."
"It's a prime pelt, anyway."
"Yaas, 'e was a grand ole buck fur a wally; about the biggest
I've got this season."
"How many skins have you taken, Ike?"
"Two more'n I'd 'ave six dozen."

"Gettin' a good price for 'em?"
"Waal, Jack Croft, 'e offered me nine shillin' a dozen fur 'em.
There are about twenty kangaroos among 'em. Jack reckoned it was
a stiff price, an' 'e sed 'e'd not offer anythin' near it but fur the
kangaroo skins, which 'e 'ad a fancy fur."
"Old Jack can put it on, you know."
"Oh, I know Jack all right! Me an' 'im's 'ad dealin' afore. Jacky's
not too bad, but 'e knows 'ow to draw the long bow. Anyway, ole Eb
Dowse's boat'll be along nex' week. He's sent word ter say as 'e'd do
a deal with me fur 'em."
"Better wait an' see what Eb'll shell out for 'em, Ike, I reckon.
German Harry, up the river, says he can always knock a shillin' a
dozen more out of Eb than Jack."
"I ain't hurryin', Joe."
Just then the welcome supper cooee reached their ears. The
boys lost no time in getting to the supper-table. Joe instinctively
eyed the contents. Cold streaky bacon; a big dish of fried pumpkin
and potatoes; a mountain of home-made bread, sliced; a basin of
prime butter; Cape gooseberry jam galore, and amber-tinted honey
in the comb. What more could any hungry lad desire?
Mary Robinson, a great tease, caught Joe's glance, and said,
with an amused smile, "No pancakes to-night, Joe."
Joe was abashed for the fraction of a second. Quickly rallying,
he laughingly said, "Tell another, Mary, while your mouth's hot."
"Very well, my boy! If you don't believe me ask our black tom-
cat. He chased a mouse into the batter and upset the bowl; so
there!"

"Mary, Mary!" remonstrated Mrs. Robinson. "There's only a grain
of truth in the pound of fiction she's giving you, Joe. The cat, it is
true, did chase a mouse; but it did not jump into the batter, nor was
the bowl upset. The pancakes are cooked, with currans in 'em; just
the sort you like; and they're keeping hot by the fire."
"Thanks awfully, Mrs. Robinson; I believe you anyway. As for
Mary, she's like Sandy M'Intyre's old, toothless sheep-dog."
"How's that, Joe?" interjected Ike.
"Bark's worse than her bite."
"My stars! what originality, what refinement! Sandy's razor is not
in it with master Joe Blain for sharpness. I'll remember this, though,
the next time you ask me to go out to the scrub with you for passion
fruit. Anyhow, there's no resemblance between you and Sandy's
wonderful barker."
"Indeed!"
"No; your bark's noisy enough, but your bite's a hundred times
worse—especially when pancakes are about."
With this "Roland" Mary ran out to the kitchen to get the teapot.
Joe made a royal repast, topping off with the hot pancakes at a
rate which caused his father to dryly remark: "Too much pancake
won't help the boat along, my boy."
Tea finished, the visitors prepare to continue their voyage. With
Ike's powerful assistance the boat is shoved into the water, and her
nose pointed down-stream. In due time Beacon Point is reached.
CHAPTER XIII
OFF FOR THE HOLIDAYS!

"Boyhood is the natural time for abundant play and laughter, without which rarely
does high health touch young cheeks with its rose-bloom, or knit bones strongly
for the fighting and the toiling that awaits them."—JOSEPH H. FLETCHER.
"Now then, Norah, look slippy with breakfast! It's half-past six, an'
Sandy's to be here at seven. Said he'd leave the station at five with
the spare horse for me."
"Begorrah! at the rate breakfast's cookin' it'll be midnight before
it's ready. 'Tis the bastliest wood that niwer was."
"Time the fish was fryin', Norah."
"Fish, bedad! For two pins ye wuddent have anny fish. The
thrubble Oi've had wid thim! Phwat for did youse lave thim in the
bag all night? If ye'd put thim out on the dish, ye spalpeen, Oi'd
have seen thim and claned thim long ba-fore Oi wint to bed. 'Sted of
which it's tuk me two morchial hours to scale the brutes, they was
that dry and hard. Be Saint Pathrick, they scales was loike porky-
pine's pricklies!"
"Sorry, Norah; my fault as usual," remarked Joe good-
humouredly. "Father called out to turn the horse from the lucerne
just as I reached the back door. So I threw the bag down on the
steps to chase the moke, an' clean forgot 'em when I came back."
"Well, Oi'll forgive ye wanst more, which makes about a million
tousandth toime; but, moind ye, 'tis——"
"All serene, Norah! Oh, I say, Norry, I'd nearly forgotten it!
Paddy Lacey asked me yesterday to tell you that they want you to
go to the Hibernian picnic on Boxing Day. They've chartered the
Firefly, an' are goin' down to the Bar."

"God's truth! 'tis only gammoning me ye are, Masther Joe. It's a
young thrick ye be, indade, with yure Hayburnion picnacs."
"It's as true as true, Norah. No make-up this time. An' oh! I say,
d'you know what Jimmy Flynn tole Tom Hawkins?"
"Nawthin' good, bedad!"
"Ain't it! Well, opinions differ. At any rate he was goin' to set a
line on Friday night, an' as he was roundin' the point he hears
somewheres ahead of him a noise between a smack an' a crack.
Then comes a bit of a squeal, an' a woman's voice sings out: 'Don't,
stop it!' Then there was another smack-crack, an' just as he got
round the corner he sees a couple, for all the world like you and
Paddy, sittin' on a log. No, 'twas Paddy that was on the log, an' you
were on Paddy's——"
"Ye loi-in spalpeen! Oi'll pull yure tongue from betune yure
teeth," screamed Norah, as, blushing furiously, she chased the
nimble Joe out of the kitchen right into the arms of Sandy M'Intyre,
as he was coming up the back doorstep.
"Hello, Sandy!"
"Hello, Joe! What's row inside? Norah givin' you the rounds of
the kitchen as usual, eh?"
"Only jiggin' her about Paddy Lacey, an' got her paddy up a bit.
You're up to time, Sandy, ole man. By jing! I see you've brought
Curlew in. Am I to ride him? My word! it is good of your governor to
let me. I thought you'd a brought the piebald."
"So I intended, but he was limpin' when he was run into the
stockyard; so father says, 'Take Curlew.'"
Curlew was Mr. M'Intyre's favourite horse, and Joe was highly
honoured in being allowed to ride this mettlesome but lovely paced

steed.
Just then breakfast appeared. After a substantial meal Joe
brought out his father's valise and strapped it to the saddle.
"All ready, Sandy? Good-bye, mother. Good-bye, father. Good-
bye, girls!"
And so, with kisses and cautions from the family, the boys
mounted their steeds and cantered down the street to the punt, on
their way to Bullaroi, as Mr. M'Intyre's station was called.
Across the river the boys were joined by Tom Hawkins, who was
to accompany them. Tom, who was mounted on a brisk pony,
greeted them with a cheery cry as the punt reached the shore. A
jollier trio of young Australians could not be found than this
chattering, capering band, who on that brilliant morning raced along
the bush track.
Plans of fun and frolic were projected during the ride, including
astounding adventures that would have taken half a year to carry
out. In anticipation the lads were already having tip-top fun. Tom's
riotous imagination, especially, made the spoils of the gun, the rod,
and the chase to assume brobdingnagian proportions.
In due course they pulled up at the slip-rails marking the
Bullaroi boundary line. Thence to the white gate seen in the
distance, and which fronted the homestead, a mad race ensued. In
this Curlew was first, the rest nowhere. Indeed, Curlew became so
excited by the gallop and the shrill shoutings of the riders that Joe,
who had made no attempt to pull him till the horse was almost on
the gate, found it impossible to stop his steed, which was full of
running. Before the boy fully realised it, Curlew was soaring through
the air, clearing the gate by at least a couple of feet. Joe, parting

from the "pigskin," was sailing through space on his own account,
leaving a foot or two between his sit-down and the saddle seat.
Joe, though a fair rider, was not a practised steeple-chaser. He
was not a horseman, as were Sandy and Tom, who were to the
manner born. Little wonder, then, that his heart rose with the horse
and his rider, and for some brief moments palpitated furiously in his
mouth. That mysterious and natural law of the universe called
gravitation was on hand, however, and saved the situation.
Curlew's hoofs struck the ground on the descending curve as
lightly as a cat. Joe's legs, which in this aerial flight had assumed the
shape of an inverted V, came plop into the saddle at the right
moment. But his body was thrown forward, his hands clutching
frantically at the horse's neck and mane. In this condition, unable to
recover his equilibrium, with but the loss of his hat, the rider is
carried over the intervening distance to the stables, amid loud
laughter from the station people, who had been attracted by the
shouting of the boys.
Sandy cleared the gate in pursuit of Joe, but failed to catch him.
Tom was obliged to haul up and open the gates, as the jump was
too high for his pony. Thus the rider of Curlew came in a winner, and
all three dismounted amid laughter and teasings.
"Weel, Joseph, my lad," said Mr. M'Intyre, who possessed a
pawky humour, "Johnny Gilpin couldna hae done the trick better. You
kep' up wi' Curlew, anyway. I thocht he was goin' to leave ye behind.
Ma certie it's deeficult to say which is the winner, you or the horse.
We'll juist ca' it neck an' neck."
"Take no heed to him, Joe," said Mrs. M'Intyre. She saw through
the lad's apparent good-humour a sense of humiliation at his

unhorsemanlike entry. "You did well to stick to him, not knowing his
intention. But come away in, boys; ye'll be ready for something to
eat after that ride. We're right glad to see you. Sandy was so excited
last night at the prospect of your coming that I am sure he didn't
sleep a wink. Why, he had the horses saddled at dawn, and was off
without a bite if I hadn't stopped him and made him drink a cup of
coffee."
The day was a busy one on the station. Every one was engaged
in finishing off jobs and cleaning up. For during Christmas week, and
until after New Year's Day, only that which was absolutely necessary
in the way of work was expected.
During the previous week drafting and mustering had been the
all absorbing work on the run. That finished, and a mob of "fats"
despatched overland to Maitland to catch the Christmas market, the
last few days were occupied in culling "boilers" and in branding
calves. On this particular day all the available hands were engaged
in tidying up; the whitewash bucket being in great request.
Willy and Jacky, the aboriginal boys, together with an Irish lad,
—Norah's brother, in fact,—were enrolled as whitewash artists. Their
special work consisted in converting dingy looking hen-roosts, dog-
kennels, pigsties, milking sheds, and the like into a brilliant white.
Meanwhile two of the men, with rough brooms made of stiff
brushes, were sweeping the ground within a fair radius of the house.
Inside, the housework was prosecuted with great vigour. Two
gins were set to work with the scrubbing brush; while in the kitchen,
where Mrs. Mac and the two elder daughters were domiciled,
Christmas cooking went on apace. There was, indeed, such a
weighing of flour and raisins, such a slicing of candied peel, such a

dressing of flesh and fowl as to make Ah Fat, the cook, fairly
amazed, and to wonder how in the name of Confucius the oven was
to stand the cooking strain that was being brought upon it. While
from the kitchen an odoriferous perfume was wafted across the
yard, assaulting all noses, and breeding high anticipation, most
pleasurable from the standpoint of creature comforts.
Mr. M'Intyre, no patron of idleness either in man or boy, took
the lads early in the day into the harness room, and set them to the
task of cleaning the saddle and harness ware. Saddles, girths,
bridles, various sets of light and heavy harness, required attention.
All leather was to be well cleaned and oiled, stirrups and bits to be
burnished, and broken straps to be repaired.
The pals threw themselves, con amore, into the work. It was
hard to say which moved the more briskly, tongues or hands. The
afternoon was well advanced before the last piece of steel and
electro silver was polished, the last girth and surcingle refitted, and
the whole placed on their respective brackets. This task finished, the
boys felt that they had earned the promised reward—a glorious
swim. Within a couple of hours of sunset the whole of the outside
work was accomplished, and, for the time being, each employé was
a free agent.
The homestead faced a large affluent of the river, which was
known as Crocodile Creek. Why the creek was so named was a sort
of a mystery. No species of the saurian tribe was ever known to
infest its waters. The name may have been given to it through some
fancied resemblance in its course to the aforesaid reptile.
Crocodile Creek formed a fine frontage to Bullaroi run, being
distant from the homestead about a quarter of a mile. Immediately

opposite, the creek widened out into a fine sheet of water some
three miles long, and varying in width from one hundred to one
hundred and fifty yards. There was a particular spot which stood
about seven or eight feet above the water. Here Mr. M'Intyre had a
spring-board constructed. The water was fully twelve feet deep at
the jump off, and, added to other advantages, formed an ideal spot
for bathing purposes.
Having finished their allotted tasks, the lads came bounding out
of the harness-room and across the yard to the house, shouting, as
they capered, "Who's for a swim?" The stockmen certainly looked,
and no doubt felt, that the one thing above all others necessary for
their ease and comfort after the stable and the house-yard cleaning
operations was a plunge into the cool, sweet waters of the creek. If
they were semi-black by reason of their employment, it was no less
true that the black boys, Willy and Jacky, were semi-white.
Dennis Kineavy, the Irish lad, was the "broth of a bhoy," and all
three were cram full of impishness. No sooner were the finishing
touches of whitewash decoration given, than Denny, sneaking up
behind Willy and Jacky, who stood off a little from the hen-roost
admiring their artistic handicraft—with capacious brush well charged
with the sediment of his bucket—smote them in quick succession
across the bare shoulders and breech, and then, with an Irish yell,
darted round the stable.
Surprised for the moment, but nothing loath, the black boys
snatched their buckets, wielded their brushes, and, shouting their
native war-cry, dashed off in hot pursuit; Denny dodged them
successfully for a while, but was at length outflanked, and then

ensued a battle royal which only ceased when the supplies of
ammunition (whitewash) were exhausted.
It was at the tail-end of the fray that Sandy and his mates came
racing along with the cry of, "Swim O! Swim O!"
Boys and men, black and white, were all ready and willing, nay,
eager, for a jolly bogey.[#] There was a rush by the whites for
towels; then, in quick procession, the motley band made for the
water.
[#] "Bogey," native name for bathe.
After a plunge and a short swim to get rid of the dust and muck, an
impromptu carnival was arranged. First of all came the long dive.
This meant a run along the spring-board and a dive straight out. The
diver in each case, when reaching the surface, had to tread water,
keeping as nearly as possible to the spot of emergence.
Tom Hawkins led off, the others followed in order at twenty
seconds' interval. The blacks, by reason of their native abilities in
this direction, were made to do the dive with arms interlocked,
Siamese twin fashion. The darkies were the whippers-in of this
diving procession. Tom, who led off, faltered in his stride when
leaving the spring-board. He rose to the surface at about thirty feet
from the bank. Joe, who followed, dived a good ten feet farther out
than Tom. Sandy, however, when he shot up through the water, was
fully fifty feet from the shore. Both of the stockmen beat Joe, but
were behind Sandy.
Then came the blacks, side by side. With an even, measured,
and springy stride they raced down the board, which was wide

enough to admit of this manoeuvre. They took the water without a
splash, like a pair of frogs, leaving scarce a ripple. It was naturally
thought that by being coupled in this way matters would be evened.
It was the general opinion that they would fail to reach Sandy's limit,
and probably not get beyond Joe's. The boys eagerly awaited their
reappearance, watching the water closely for some sign. After what
appeared to be an interminable period they were startled by a
double cooee, and, lo! the twins, so to speak, had risen at least
twenty feet beyond Sandy, or seventy feet from the shore.
Somersault diving followed the long distance trial. In thia Harry
the stockman, who had been a circus rider and acrobat in his
youthful days, outshone all the others.
Then came the exciting game of "catch the devil." Willy was
chosen devil. It was his business to dive off the spring-board and
run the gauntlet, the others being scattered in the water. To catch
the aboriginal seemed a comparatively easy matter, all things
considered. He was, however, a superb swimmer and trickster, diving
and dodging like a cormorant. A dozen times surrounded, he
marvellously eluded his pursuers. The game was at its height, and
there was no knowing how long the "devil" would remain at large,
when the station bell rang out a lusty summons to supper.
This brought the carnival to an instant conclusion. And now
each swimmer scrambled for the shore, and soon the whole
company, with clean bodies and healthy appetites, were hieing along
the track. When the boys reached home they found a new arrival in
the person of a young Englishman. This gentleman was out on a
business tour, and, being anxious to see something of station life,
was recommended to Mr. M'Intyre by a mutual friend. Mrs. M'Intyre's

hospitality was proverbial, and Neville, for such was the "new
chum's" name, was heartily made welcome.
The day had been a long one, and, supper ended, the boys
were quite resigned to go to bed, or at least to the bedroom. The
noises therefrom, after their retirement, were very suggestive of
prime larks, and continued long after lights were out. The pals were
domiciled, to their great delight, in a big spare room, which
contained a double bed and a single one. Joe and Tom shared the
former, while Sandy camped on the latter, which was, indeed, his
stretcher brought in for the occasion.
Silence reigned supreme at length within, and without was
broken only by the hoarse croaking of the frogs, an occasional call
from a night owl, and the weird wail of the curlew.
CHAPTER XIV
CHRISTMAS FUN AND FROLIC
"It was the time when geese despond
And turkeys make their wills;
The time when Christians to a man
Forgive each other's bills.
It was the time when Christmas glee
The heart of childhood fills."
BRUNTON STEPHENS.

Daylight had barely broken. The only stir in the household is that
produced by Joe, whose slumber had been disturbed by the
persistent crawling of flies across his face.
There are three things in animated nature which run each other
very closely for the supremacy in downright tenacity to purposeful
cussedness. Pig, Hen, Fly—these three! And of the three, the
cussedest and most exasperatingly tenacious to its rooted purpose
of squeezing in between one's eyelids, sinking a well in the corner of
one's eye, or climbing the inside walls of one's nose, is the Australian
species of the common house-fly.
It is possible at times to circumvent the "gintilman wot pays the
rint," and persuade him to return through the same hole in the fence
which gave him escape, by appearing to be anxious to drive him out
on to the plain. That is pig strategy; or rather, strategy with a pig.
He is beaten, so to speak, by the law of contrairy. When all
resources fail in persuading the hen that the flour-bin, or the linen
basket, is not specially constructed to suit her convenience in the
daily duty of egg producing, one can at the last resort requisition the
services of Madame la Guillotine.
But neither strategy nor tactics, neither force nor fraud, avail
anything when the early fly, with recruited energies and fiendish
intent, starts on her mission of seeking whom and what she may
annoy. She—it is quite safe to put the insect in the feminine gender
—can be neither coaxed, persuaded, shoo'd, deceived, frightened,
nor driven from her prey. The fly always wins—in the end.
Driven from Blanket Bay on this eventful Christinas morning by
the incorrigible fly, Joe proceeded at once to reverse the Golden
Rule, and promptly made war upon his mates on that morning

which, of all the days in the year, makes for peace and goodwill
among men.
Tom had sought refuge from the fly in the bed-clothes, and
muffled nasal monotones made a sonorous chorale. On the other
hand, Sandy, impervious to all impious fly assaults, lay on his back,
mouth wide open, breathing heavily and steadily. Sandy was of the
pachydermatous order. Neither mosquito nor fly troubled him. The
flies evidently found his eyes to be a dry patch, while they were
unable to obtain a permanent foothold at his nostrils owing to the
intermittent, horse-like snorts which blew them as from the mouth of
a blunderbuss. But they heavily fringed his mouth, eating with
manifest relish their bacilli breakfast.
In a jiffy the bed-clothes are whipped off the slumbering lads,
and in less than no time the latter, pillows in hand, make common
cause against the aggressor. Joe puts up a gallant fight, but the
odds are too much for him; he is driven into a corner at last and
unmercifully pelted.
This prelude to the day's enjoyment concluded, the pals jump
into their clothes and proceed to execute the second item on the
day's programme, namely, a horseback scamper through the bush
before breakfast.
Oh, the glory of it! Out from the confines of four walls into the
open spaces of the world when night is merging into day; to move in
the dawn of a new day; to stand enwrapped in its pearl-grey mantle
ere the mounting sun has turned its soft shades to rosy brilliance; to
inhale the spicy breeze which, during the night watches, having
extracted the perfumes of the forest flowers, comes heavily freighted

o'er gully and range, and diffuses the sweet odours as the reward of
the early riser. And then—to watch the daily miracle of sunrise!
"See! the dapple-grey coursers of the morn
Beat up the light with their bright silver hoofs
And chase it through the sky."
Sandy, on old Rufus, kept for that work, soon rounds-up and yards
several steeds from the horse-paddock. From these three are picked
and saddled; and ere the rising sun has walked "o'er the dew of yon
high eastern hills," the lads are scampering through bush and brake,
o'er dale and hill. They chivy the silent kangaroo through the lush
grass; have a glorious burst after a belated dingo; rouse screaming
parrots and paroquets from their matutinal meal off the honey
blossoms of box and apple trees; pulling up at last on the summit of
a dome-shaped, treeless hill, from whence, with the bloom of the
morning still upon it, the landscape extends in a vast stretch of
undulation, broken at irregular intervals by silver ribbons of creek
and river.
Belts of scrub and forest, rich pasturages and arable lands, are
dotted here and there, with minute spots from which rise slender
threads of smoke indicating settlers' houses; while away in the
background are the purple hills and the blue mountains.
Boys are not usually considered to be impressionable creatures
on the æsthetic side of things. Herein we wrong them. They may
not attitudinise, nor spout poetry when under the supreme touches
of nature, for the boy is too natural to be theatrical. But, without

doubt, the morning and evening glories of dear old mother earth do
touch their sense of beauty; and though these impressions may
seem to be effaced by other and more sordid things, nevertheless
they linger through the long years, called up from time to time in
sweet association with days that are no more.
The lads, while they rested their steeds, stood in silent and
wondering gaze, broken at last by Tom, who, pointing across the
intervening spaces to the broadest of the many silver threads,
exclaimed, "Tender's Tareela!" Many miles away, as the crow flies,
lay the river village, a small cluster of dots, a few of which glistened
in the sunlight. These shining spots indicated the "superior" houses
that sported corrugated iron roofs, new in those days. For the most
part the "roof-trees" were shingle or bark.
And now, homeward bound, the horsemen slither down the
hillside, plunge into a pine scrub, to emerge therefrom on the border
of a small plain, and chase a mob of brumbies grazing thereon.
They, with snorting nostrils and waving manes, headed by a
notorious grey stallion—of whom more anon—dash up a ravine into
the fastnesses of the scrub, and, though followed some distance by
the reckless riders, vanish from sight with a celerity possible only to
wild bush-horses.
Skirting now the banks of the Crocodile, they disturb flocks of
teal, widgeon, water-hen, and other aquatic birds. At length they
give a view halloo, for the old homestead is in sight. This scares a
flock of cockatoos that are camping in the river gums, after an early
morning's poaching expedition to the adjacent maize-fields, and
brings out the station dogs with a babble of barking, as they pound
up the track with a final spurt.

"Breakfast ready, Ah Fat?" sings out Sandy, as the boys come
rushing into the kitchen from the stables.
"Leddy? Tes, allee globble upee! Missee say no kleep anyling for
bad boy. Lockee allee glub." Ah Fat's twinkling, humorous eyes
redeemed his hatchet face and stolid countenance.
"It's all right, fellows. He's only pokin' borak at us," said Sandy,
giving the Celestial a familiar slap. "Come along, I'm as hungry as a
hunter. They've only started, I know."
The family were seated, heads were bent, and Mr. M'Intyre was
saying the long Scotch grace, when the boys burst into the room
with a fine clatter. The rude intrusion brought a severe remonstrance
from that gentleman when the exercise was concluded. Mrs.
M'Intyre—always ready to defend the boys and to champion them,
to condone their faults and to extol their virtues, in which she was
wise or otherwise, as the reader may decide—broke in with a
Christmas greeting. For a minute there was a fusillade of "Merry
Christmas to you and many of them!"
"Now, boys, take your seats before breakfast's cold."
On proceeding to their places the boys stood stock still, for
there, resting against their respective chairs, stood three brand-new,
double-barrel shot-guns.
"Weel, bairns!" exclaimed Mr. M'Intyre, with quiet amusement,
surveying the amazed boys as they gazed at the weapons. "What
are ye frichtened at? Is it snakes y're lukin' upon? Why dinna ye sit
doon to yure food?"
"Oh, father! mother!" cried Sandy at last, picking up his gun,
pleasure beaming from his face. "This is what Harry meant when he
said last night he'd brought out a parcel from the town that'd come

by steamer." Then with a rush, Joe and Tom at his heels, he danced
round the abashed Scotchman, and gave him a hug, repeating the
dose with interest on Mrs. M'Intyre. It was hard for the boys to settle
down to breakfast and dislodge their eyes from the weapons. What
their souls coveted most was a gun. The clamant claims of hunger,
however, are not to be disregarded; so, stacking their guns in a
corner, the boys did ample justice to a generous meal.
"Did you have a pleasant ride this morning, boys?" inquired Mrs.
M'Intyre. "You've not been out on the run before, Tom, have you?"
"No, ma'am. We'd a good time, though!"
"How far did you go, Sandy?"
"To the top of Bald Hummock, mother."
"Splendid view from the top, is it not, Joe?"
"Not bad, Mrs. M'Intyre."
"That's a negative descreeption o' ane o' the graundest sichts
the hale deestric' can boast," said Mr. M'Intyre, with emphasis.
Joe became conscious of the banality.
"An' why did ye no' tak' Mr. Neville wi' you, boys? Ye did wrang
no' to invite him to ride wi' you. I think ye owe him an apologee,
Saundy."
"I'm very sorry," said the lad, turning in some confusion to Mr.
Neville. "If I'd thought——"
"Oh, I shouldn't have dreamed of going out at such an early
hour, my lad," replied Neville loftily. He had a somewhat affected
accent and a superior air. "I nevvah exert myself before breakfast.
Besides, I am not sure that I should find a safe escort in a parcel of
—er—schoolboys. With the young ladies, now," he continued, fixing
his monocle and bestowing a patronising stare upon Sandy's sisters,

Maggie and Jessie, "I—I—should be delighted to go for a bush ride,
as I think these equestrian expeditions are called in Awestralia, in
the cool of the afternoon."
"We don't call them even bush rides out here, Mr. Neville,"
answered Jessie saucily. She resented patronage. "We call 'em spins.
Boys, I vote we all go for a spin this afternoon. Let's ride as far as
Ben Bolt's cave. It'll be something interesting to show Mr. Neville.
Ben Bolt's a famous bushranger hereabouts, you know, and the cave
is a favourite rendezvous for his gang, as well as a safe hiding-place.
At least, it was so until a few months ago, when the police and black
trackers discovered it, and nearly nabbed him. Fancy having a
bushranger's camp on the Bullaroi boundary! But Ben never uses it
now. So let's ride out to it. Are you game, boys?"
"Game!" snorted Sandy. "What's to be game about? The main
thing is, will Mr. Neville care for an eighteen-mile spin? If not, we
could go for a short ride down the Crocodile."
"Please don't question my ability, boy!" retorted the new chum,
who resented the implication contained in Sandy's remark. "I find,"
continued he, addressing his host, "you good people out heah seem
to think that Awestralia is the only place where horseback riding is
indulged in——"
"We ride steers also, an' billies too," slyly interjected Joe, with a
wink at the girls.
"And we read that they ride donkeys and—er—hobby-horses in
England," chipped in Jessie, whose eyes sparkled with mischief.
"Good for you, ole Jess! Let 'em bring out their English fox-
hunters an' steeple-chasers that they brag so much about, and we'll
give 'em a dingo run, or a go at cutting out scrubbers,[#] an' see

how they'd be with their pretty coats an' breeches, at the tail of the
hunt!"
[#] Wild, unbranded cattle, frequenting scrub country,
"Are ye addressing the English nation or oor guest, Saundy?"
M'Intyre could be caustic when he willed. He had no liking for
Australian blow, and hit at it as he would hit at a snake, whenever
occasion arose. He now turned the laugh against his son, Jess
laughing loudest of all.
"It's settled, then, that we ride out to the cave this afternoon?"
said Maggie, with an inquiring eye on Neville.
"I'm shore 'twill be a pleasant jaunt, Miss M'Intyre," replied the
Englishman. "I shall have pleasure in acting as your escort. But this
—er—famous—er—notorious—er—highwayman, is it—er—safe? I
mean—er—I'm thinking of the—er—ladies, you know."
"What's to be afraid of?" quoth Jessie. To her, risk meant spice,
an added zest. Her whole heart went out to the life of the open air
and the pleasures of the chase. Her greatest delight was in a mad
scamper through the bush behind the dogs, in the kangaroo hunt.
"Don't be alarmed, Mr. Neville; Mag and I'll protect you should
the—er—famous—notorious—bushranger—highwayman turn up,"
went on the audacious minx. "I'd dearly love to see Ben Bolt. I think
he's a lot better than many who run him down. Oh my! wouldn't it
be fun if we surprised him in the cave? I'd——"
"Stop, Jess; cease your blether!" said Mr. M'Intyre sternly. "The
mon may no' be as black as he's pented, but he's no' an honest
mon. Misguided he may be to an extent, and no' a'thegither

answerable for some of the steps in his doonward career, but a
creeminal for a' that, whom the country were weel rid o'. But as for
the reesk, there's na reesk in ridin' to the cave. The Sub-Inspector
telt me a few days ago that Ben Bolt's gone o'er the border. News is
to hand to the effect that he stuck up a Chinaman on the Brisbane
road. So the cave's safe enough."
"That's settled, then," broke in Maggie. "If we leave here about
four o'clock 'twill be early enough, and will give us plenty of time to
get back by dark."
"Maidie, my pet," said Mrs. M'Intyre to her little three-year-old,
a dainty, precocious miss, "what are you staring at? It's rude to stare
at any one like that."
"Oh, muzzer!" exclaimed the child, turning her bright eyes
mother-wards for a moment and then fixing them with a fascinated
gaze upon the Englishman.
"What is it that interests you, little girl?" remarked Neville in a
patronising tone. "Is it the colour of my tie?"
Maidie shook her curly head, and, without removing her eyes
from Mr. Neville's face, leaned towards Jessie, who sat next to her,
and whispered, "The genkilmun's got somesin' on his fevvers."
Suspended from the tip of one of Neville's incipient moustaches
was a yellow string of egg-yolk. Jess had observed this for some
time, with a tendency to hilarity whenever it caught her eye. Maidie's
comical description added fuel to the fire of the girl's merriment,
sending her into convulsive laughter. She answered looks of
interrogation by pointing to the dangling egg thread, and saying as
well as circumstances permitted, "Maidie says—ha—ha—ha!—that
Mr. Fevv—he—he—he!—Mr. Neville's got egg on his—fev—feathers."

This explanatory and ludicrous mixture created a general explosion
among the young folk. The situation, however, was promptly ended
by Mrs. M'Intyre, who discreetly rose on seeing that the guest did
not join in the general laugh.
There was nothing much for the men-folk to do; but the boys
were burning to try their new fowling-pieces, The squatter, seeing
their intent, directed them to use their skill on the cockatoos and
king parrots that were devastating the maize crop.
These birds, especially the former, proved wily customers, so
that not many opportunities offered for testing the guns. Enough
was done, though, to prove that the guns were no "slouches," and
great things were predicted when the lads should "know" their
respective weapons.
"Whatyer think of the new chum, Joe?" said Sandy to Blain, as
they sat on a log under a low-spreading wattle tree, on the look out
for a flying shot.
"Goes thirteen to the dozen, ole man, don't he? Knows a lot
more'n us, he reckons, and can't help showin' it."
"Yes, he can't stand us chaps at no price. By George! Jess's got
his measure, and Mag too, for that matter. They'll take his nibs down
a peg or two before he goes, I bet tuppence."
"Little Maidie fitted him all right," chipped in Tom. "Fevvers—ha
—ha!—yes, goose feathers."
It was evident that the visitor was not in favour with the young
people. He had struck a false note. No one can be quicker than boys
to detect superciliousness and to resent it. The patronising air is to
them the unforgivable sin. Henceforth Neville went by the name of
"Fevvers" among the boys, to the great amusement of the girls,

who, unfortunately for the Englishman, had assigned him a place in
prig-dom.
Neville, it must be confessed, was a bit of a prig; but at heart
he was not at all a bad fellow, and there came a time not far ahead
when respect supplanted contempt in the pals, and the ridiculous
nickname was dropped; while he on his part discontinued the use of
the irritating comparison, "the way we do things in England," which
at the beginning he was for ever introducing.
The household was enjoying a siesta after the typical Christmas
dinner which was partaken of at midday. Stillness reigned within the
house, save the cracking of house timbers under the influence of the
heat. This seductive calm and the sweet sleep of the girls was at
length rudely broken by Sandy, who in the exercise of a brother's
privilege shook the door violently as he shouted, "Now then, lazies,
get up and dress! It's half-past three."
"Bother you, Sandy, you are a nuisance!" sleepily complained
Jessie. "I—I—was having such a lovely dream. Neptune was just on
the heels of a blue flyer,[#] and I was galloping alongside him. The
chase led us to Blind-fall Gully, and we three took the jump together,
and were almost landed on the other side when you thumped the
door. I thought at first it was the thud of Kangie's tail, but no! there
she was flying through——"
[#] Maiden kangaroo, a very fast runner.
"That comes of eating too much plum-duff an' mince-pie, my girl.
But I say, you two, look slippy, or you'll be too late. I told Jacky to

saddle Nigger for you, Jess. What'll you take, Mag? Rainbow or
Sultan? They're both up."
"Don't care, Sandy. I'll take Sultan, I think. No, I'll take Rainbow.
Wait a moment, p'r'aps——"
"Oh! stop your silly nonsense. I'll put the saddle on Sultan,"
shouted the impatient boy, as he made off through the house to the
stockyard.
"Say, Sandy!" cried out Jess, who was now wide awake. "Have
you roused Mr.—er—Fevvers yet?"
"'Ssh! mother'll hear you," exclaimed the boy warningly, as he
returned to the door. "He didn't have a snooze. Says it's
unbusinesslike to sleep in the daytime. Says they never do that in
England. England be blowed, say I. An' whatyer think? Harry offered
him the loan of his leggin's, but he wouldn't have 'em. Says they
smell of the stockyard, ha—ha! Says they don't wear 'em in England.
Listen! He's got on a pair of white duck britches, an' my crikey! they
won't be white any longer. He asked Harry for his fourteen-foot
stockwhip. Says he was told an 'Awestralian' horse would never
budge without one. Only dad was there I'd 'a' put his saddle on Dick
Swiveller, an' by jing! we'd 'a' had some sport. We'll knock fun out of
him as it is, I reckon. But look alive, girls, or y'll be left behind."
CHAPTER XV
A BUSH RIDE AND ITS CONSEQUENCES

"Then hey for boot and horse, lad!
And round the world away;
Young blood will have its course, lad!
And every dog his day."
KINGSLEY.
The weather in Australia at Christmas is not ideal for riding parties.
Midsummer heat and dust, together with hordes of flies, largely
countervail the delights of the saddle.
The enthusiastic party that cantered along the tracks leading
from the Bullaroi homestead on this particular Christmas, with one
exception, made small bones about either dust or heat. Neville,
however, was irritated by the dust which the horses' feet knocked
up. Nor would he seek alleviation as did the others by leaving the
track at every opportunity. The victim of prejudice and
conventionality, expressed in terms of cussedness, he obstinately
stuck to the dusty track. The boys and Jessie frisked here and there,
making short cuts, jumping gullies and logs, and generally enjoying
themselves. They raised, it is true, clouds of dust, to the annoyance
of the new chum, as they pounded along the track on their return to
the others, after having forged ahead some distance; behaving, in
short, like gambolling dogs. Mag would have dearly loved the frolic,
but hospitality's demands made it imperative that she—the eldest—
should partner the guest.
Neville was no rider. His knowledge of the ways of the horse
was of the most elementary kind. Had he had the common sense to
have admitted that palpable fact, many of his painful experiences,

and indeed tortures, would have been minimised, if not altogether
avoided.
Like all inexperienced riders, he responded to every movement
of the horse. He had no sense of balance. He held the reins shoulder
high, and was for ever jerking them. When his body was not stiffly
straight it inclined forward. The inevitable result was made
abundantly manifest in chafed limbs and aching bones. With Neville,
as with most new-chum riders, the trousers legs would work up from
the bottom, displaying a section of calf, to the great amusement of
the boys, who baa'd most vehemently at such times.
This, however, must be reckoned for grace in Neville: he made
no complaint, nor admitted any discomfort. He was forward in his
criticisms of the boys' style of riding: their seats were un-English and
cowboy.
No greater contrast between the riders could well be imagined
than that which the new chum and the pals presented. Theirs was to
the manner born, to be confounded neither with cowboy nor
military. While there is an utter absence of stiffness in the Australian
style, there is at the same time nothing bordering on the truculent
as affected by the cowboy. The movements are willowy and
rhythmic. Horse and man are one and indivisible. This means to both
the minimum of work with the maximum of ease.
How far removed from this attainment was poor Neville! His
figure was of the ramrod pattern for the first few miles—ultra
military, so to speak. His feet, well through the stirrups, inclined
outwards at a sharp angle; his left arm, held at right angle as rigid
as a semaphore, gripped the reins; while his right clutched the
stockwhip with tenacious grasp. The steed, a fair pacer in

experienced hands, in his became a veritable jogger. He rose and fell
in springless fashion with every motion of the horse.
It was not in Neville's power to maintain that iron rigidity, and
so he gradually inclined forward. His back became bowed, and his
nose at times was in imminent danger of the horse's head. His arms,
too, hung listlessly at either side, until at last his appearance
resembled nothing so much as a doubled-up Guy Fawkes perched on
a rail. Yet his dogged spirit, essentially British, half courage, half
cussedness, bore him up.
Nearing the caves, the party, with the exception of Neville and
his companion, raced ahead, and by the time that the latter arrived
were cooling off beneath the shade of some coolibahs.
And now disaster of such a character as to shake from him the
last remains of superiority and propriety, overwhelming him in the
depths of humiliation, overtook poor Neville. These mortifying results
were brought about by his attempted gallantry.
The selected camp, as related, was beneath the grateful shade
of a cluster of coolibah[#] trees that grew on the banks of a
mountain stream, close to the mouth of the caves. Seeing that
Maggie was about to dismount unassisted, the youth exclaimed in
eager tones, "Wait a moment, Miss M'Intyre!" and so saying, threw
himself from his horse in order to do the gallant by helping his
companion down, "as they do in England."
[#] Water gum trees.
Sad to say, however, so cramped and stiff were his limbs, especially
his nether extremities, that the instant he touched ground his legs

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