“He fell in again!” shouted Keith, roaring with laughter at the thought.
“Dear, oh, dear! I thought you were the gnomes or the wild men of the woods,” cried Eva. “You do look funny.”
“An’ de rabbit got away——”
“Of course it did,” said Colin. “It had more sense than you two.”
Then they had to be bathed and put to bed and given a lecture, which took no more effect on them than the proverbial water on the duck’s back.
There was more talking, followed by supper, and they climbed into their hammocks, to sleep under the open skies, under a star-specked dome, for the last time for many a month to come.
They were back again at “Gillong” a week after the week on the river. They sat on the wooden verandah, the five of them, and gazed at the great green stretch before them. Mother and Frank had driven to Bragan Junction that morning, and they should be back any time now. Inside, the governess wrote letters to Sydney.
“It’s only a year ago that we sat here, drought-stricken,” said Mollie. “What a big, big difference in one year! Then we didn’t know Uncle, and we didn’t know Sydney or Miss Gibson, or——”
“And Frank was here, working hard and sick of the drought, and——”
“And we didn’t know the twins,” chimed in Doris.