“Ah, you’ll have adventures enough some day, boys. Have patience.”
“But we want to go farther away, uncle,” said Tim. “Are we always to be looking after the cattle and building?”
“I hope not,” said the captain, merrily. “There, we shall not be so busy now, and we shall feel more free about several things.”
Just then Shanter was seen crossing the front, munching away at a great piece of damper made from the new flour Sam German had brought up from Port Haven, it having been necessary for an expedition with a wagon and horses to be made at intervals of two or three months to replenish stores. They had had visitors, too, upon three occasions: the young doctor, Mr Freeston, and the sugar-planter, Mr Henley, having found their way to the station; the latter, as he said, being rather disposed to take up land in that direction, as it seemed far better than where he was, while the doctor casually let drop a few words to the boys at their last visit, that he thought it would be a good part of the country for him to settle in too.
“But there won’t be any patients for you,” said Norman.
“No,” cried Rifle. “We never have anything the matter with us.”
“Oh, but there will soon be settlers all about,” said the doctor. “This part of the country is sure to be thickly settled one of these days, and it will be so advantageous to be the old-established medical man.”
“I say,” said Tim, as he and his cousins rode back after seeing the doctor and Mr Henley some distance on the way, “Doctor Freeston had better begin to doctor himself.”
“Why?” said Rifle.
“Because it seems to me that he must be going mad.”