It was a day to put the most miserable of men in high spirits, and it can hardly be said that Alec and George were of that nature. Up on those wide, open downs the air is clear and strong; a pleasant breeze from the eastern sea blew on their faces and cooled their sun-tanned necks, from which the loose unbuttoned collars of their flannel shirts fell back. The keen, sweet smell of the wild marjoram rose from the ground as their horse's hoofs crushed it as they rode along, and the "chirr" of the crickets and the locusts in the ti-scrub made a cheerful, though unobserved, music in their accustomed ears.

For many miles they would be riding over their own land, for the run was one of those huge tracts of country that were taken up by the pioneer squatters in the early years of the settlement of that part of the colony, and of course the boys knew their way about it better than the natives did, so they led the way, and the black boys followed, leading the spare horses.

Como, the great tawny kangaroo hound, bounded along by the side of George's horse, the pace being an easy one to his enormous stride, every now and then turning aside to examine with inquisitive nose the traces of kangaroo that had passed thereby. He was a splendid hound, standing, when he put his great paws on George's shoulders, some inches taller than his master himself.

For some few miles the country was open and park-like, dotted here and there with clumps of great gum trees, between whose ragged trunks they could easily ride, as no brushwood grows in their shade, and every now and then it was varied with strips and patches of scrub and wild impenetrable bush. Much of the land had been cleared by firing, and the gaunt skeletons of the burnt trees stood up here and there, stretching their bare arms towards heaven, as though protesting against their fate. They had been following, until now, the slight track that had gradually been formed by the horses passing between the head station and the hut on the Yarrun station, where two of the Wandaroo shepherds lived. But where the track turned aside and crossed the deep gully, on the other side of which, at some little distance, the Yarrun hut stood, Alec called a halt.

"Over yonder," said he, pointing to a low line of dim blue hills that lay along the horizon to the north-east, "lie the ranges from which we may perhaps see the first spurs of those great mountains we are looking for. It was from those hills that Stevens said he had seen mountain peaks in the far-distant north. He might have been lying, probably was, for he was an awful liar, but Murri and the other boys also say that the mountains are there. It is no use our making a rush at the hills, and perhaps going over the highest part of all. We may as well strike a valley, if there be one, and save both time and our horses; so we will stop a minute to let the boys catch us up, and ask them."

"Now, then, let's ask Murri or Prince Tom," said George, as the other horses came up.

Alec turned in his saddle, and, resting one hand affectionately on Amber's glossy back, he asked Murri his opinion as to which was the best road across the ranges.

"High up boudgeree cawbawn" (much best) "for um black fellow, 'cause black fellow walk and kangaroo there; low down boudgeree" (good) "for white fellows, 'cause um yarroman" (because of the horses).

"You know um road low down, Murri?"

"Yohi. Mine been along o' that place plenty time, bail gammon bong. Mine go first; white fellow follow 'long o' me." (Yes, I have been to that place many times. No gammon. I will go first, you follow after me.)