"I am sorry if I appeared to doubt your good intentions, Mr. Mackay," said Wentworth, "but we are ignorant of the bigger world which you know so well, and kindnesses from strangers have not often come our way. But we have heard of you, sir; why, I believe it was through reading of you in the Herald some days ago that we decided to go to Australia."
The big man laughed good-naturedly. "You were quite right, my boy," said he, "but you may ken me better in future. It's no' so long since I was young mysel'," he concluded with a sigh.
By this time they were entering the hotel, and the boys were much impressed to observe the many tributes of respect which greeted their guide. Evidently his strange personality had become well known during his brief sojourn in the land of his fathers. Soon they were seated in the dining-room at a table conveniently remote from the others, and before the meal was finished Mackay was in possession of the lads' brief histories, and had been informed of their uncontrollable longing to get away to a new country.
"And your uncle went oot to Australia ten years ago?" he repeated musingly, when Wentworth told him his story. "Well, well, Australia is a big country, and it's no likely ye'll meet him there. Why canna ye content yersel's where ye are?" he demanded brusquely.
"We can never hope for much if we remain here," argued Wentworth. "And we should like to have a chance——"
"Just so," gravely said Mackay, "just so, my young shavers. Well, I can tell ye this, some folk can do well in any part o' this wee planet, and others—and they are in the majority—are never much good. Energy and enterprise are what is wanted, and nae whining after hame——"
"I thought," interjected Armstrong, slyly, "that I heard you whistling 'Home, Sweet Home!' in the shipping office?"
Mackay beamed. "It's very kind of ye to say so," he replied. "Maist o' my acquaintances asseverate that my whustle is like a deein' dug's lament, an' no fit to be translated into any tune whatsoever. But, all the same, Jack, my man, that's a tune I can only whustle when I am at hame; it makes me think things are no' as meeserable as they seem. Why, you young scamps, a man should be at hame anywhere. As for me I'm maist at hame when I'm awa' from hame, which is what I call a paradoxical statement o' fact for ye to moralize on. Many years ago," he went on, "I sailed oot o' the Clyde as chief engineer on one o' the finest boats that was ever launched, but when I got to Australia and fell in touch wi' Bentley's exploring expedition, my good resolutions for a quiet ordinar' existence squelched oot o' me like the wind frae a punctured bicycle tyre. 'I want ye, Mac,' said Bentley, 'to cross the Never Never wi' me.' He had another rusty-heided Scotsman in his company, an auld friend o' mine, an' I said, 'Well, if it's only to keep that gorilla-faced Pharisee oot o' mischief, I'll come.' An'—an' I went, an' I've been living like an aboriginal ever since; an' now that I've come back to look at my ain country, I feel like a pelican in the wilderness. I came awa' to try and forget aboot things an'—an' it's no' possible."
Mackay ceased; his eyes seemed to gaze into the distance, and his good-humoured countenance for the moment became drawn and haggard. His eager listeners too, felt the spell of his sadness, and for some minutes there was a sympathetic silence; then Armstrong spoke. "Will you tell us about it, Mr. Mackay," he asked gently, and without a word of introduction the big man began his story—
"We were three months oot on our exploring journey into Central Australia, and had come through the usual amount o' hardships—suffering from want o' water, occasional skirmishes wi' the niggers, and other similar trifles, and at this time the Chief was considerin' that we had a good chance o' cuttin' through a maist promisin' lookin' tract o' country which had never before been reached. As it was, we were further into the heart o' Australia than any explorer had ever penetrated, and every one o' us was fu' o' enthusiasm aboot our prospects, and dreamed o' findin' a new Eldorado in this far back country we were enterin' upon. But one morning, when we were east o' the 125th longitude, one of the pack camels grew obstreperous, and broke away into the bush to the nor'-east. We couldn't afford to lose the cantankerous animal; besides, he carried a fair amount o' our stores on his back. To make a long story short, I volunteered to track him up and fetch him back. 'Don't go too far, Mac,' said Bentley to me as I was starting out, 'I'm none too sure of this district, there may be natives about.'