“But hadn’t we better get on?” I said anxiously.
“‘Slow and sure’ must be our motto, Joe,” said the doctor. “We have hundreds of miles to tramp, so we must not begin by knocking ourselves up. Patience, my boy, patience and we shall win.”
As soon as he saw that we were going to stop for rest and refreshment, Jimmy began to rub the centre of his person and make a rush for the native basket that contained our food, from which he had to be driven; for though generally, quite unlike many of his fellow-countrymen, Jimmy was scrupulously honest, he could not be trusted near food.
There was no stopping to lay the cloth and arrange knives and forks. We each drew our heavy knife, and filled the cup of our little canteen from the stream before setting to at a large cold bird that we had brought with us, one shot by the doctor the day before, and cooked ready for the expedition. I cannot give you its name, only tell you that it was as big as a turkey, and had a beautiful crest of purple and green.
We had brought plenty of damper too, a preparation of flour that, I dare say, I need not stop to describe, as every one now must know that in Australia it takes the place of ordinary bread.
The native carriers were well provided for, and my depression passed off as the restful contented feeling induced by a good meal came over me. As for Jack Penny, he spread himself out along the ground, resting his thin body, and went on eating with his eyes half shut; while Gyp, his dog, came close alongside him, and sat respectfully waiting till his master balanced a bone across his nose, which Gyp tossed in the air, caught between his jaws, and then there was a loud crunching noise for a few minutes, and the dog was waiting again.
Jimmy was eating away steadily and well, as if he felt it to be his bounden duty to carry as much of the store of food neatly packed away inside him as it was possible to stow, when he suddenly caught sight of Gyp, and stopped short with his mouth open and a serious investigating look in his eyes.
He saw the dog supplied twice with what he evidently looked upon as dainty bits, and a broad smile came over his countenance. Then he looked annoyed and disappointed, and as if jealous of the favour shown to the beast.
The result was that he left the spot where he had been lying half-way between us and the carriers, went to the stream, where he lay flat down with his lips in the water, and drank, and then came quietly up to my side, where he squatted down in as near an imitation of Gyp as he could assume, pouting out his lips and nose and waiting for a bone.
The doctor burst out laughing, while I could not tell whether to set it down to artfulness or to simple animal nature on the poor fellow’s part.