CHAPTER XXIII.
CAMPING OUT.
When Hil mounted her colt the next morning, that fractious animal could not resist having another set-to, just to convince himself that his master was really on his back. Hil was quite agreeable and having satisfied the creature on that point, she and May started at a brisk canter along the road, following the wheel-tracks, which were still clearly defined. Hil was not disappointed in either purchase, for both horses settled down to their work admirably, and by eight o'clock they considered they were twenty miles away from Dalby. They therefore pulled up at Jimbour Creek, dismounted, hobbled their horses, and let them roam for a feed, while they prepared breakfast. Both had excellent appetites after their ride, and did full justice to the meal their own skill had prepared. During the repast, they heard horses' hoofs approaching, and shortly were joined by two young men of the bush type, probably shearers.
"Good-day, mates," called out one, as they came near.
"Good-day to you," said May. "Have a cup of tea, the water's just boiling."
It sounded more like an invitation in a lady's boudoir than from the bush, but putting them down as new chums, the pair dismounted and accepted the offer.
"Where are you young fellows making for?" asked one.
"Going along the river. Did you come that way?"
"Yes, we've come in from Condamine station."
"See anything of a buggy along the road?"
"Well, I'm blowed! Yes, we did. Why?"