My heart bounded as I looked at it. I had been told of its enormous timber, with gruesome tales of accident and mischance falling it. When you chopped trees from a springboard, I had been informed, you had one foot in the grave, and the other on an orange peel. But it was so new and enchanting to me. I wanted to get at it now! at once!
We were presently in the maize country. It looked beautiful. Miles of waving, dark green, tasselled corn just cobbing. Past Tolga, then a short ten minutes' run, and Atherton at last about one o'clock. I bolted some lunch, then, with a map of the district I wanted to see first under my arm, dived into the local Lands Office.
"I want to see this place, please. How do I get to it?"
"Oh, ah, yes! Not a bad district. Bit far out, but perhaps it is the nearest to the railway at present. Well, the Malanda train leaves at 3 p.m. Enquire for John Raynor at your station. He'll show you round."
"Oh, good. I can get to my station to-night easy?"
"Yes; there's a pub there. Just come up?"
"Only arrived this morning."
"Oh, well, glad to see you, and we hope you'll stop up here. Anything we can do for you, you know——"
"Thanks. I'll remember. Good-day," and away I went.
Three o'clock couldn't come quick enough.... Into the train.... Cornfields again.... Tolga ... more corn ... thick belts of scrub close aboard both sides. Then grass paddocks, with cattle knee-deep in the rich herbage, gazing at us with round-eyed nonchalance as we rattled by. Ah! So this is the famous Atherton country, eh? Well, it looks good.