I told him I was, and also about the dead man and the other that his mates had gone to try and rescue.
“Poor chap,” he said, “but Frank will find him if any man can. There have been a lot of men lost in the bush this last season, owing to the drought drying up all the creeks. And when they are without water their tramping soon ends in madness or death. But come along inside and have something to eat, for you must be nearly starving. Do you like kangaroo steak?”
“I don’t know,” I said, “I have never tasted it.”
“Well, sit down, and I’ll soon fix you a nice one up that will make you smack your lips.”
There were two large hind-quarters of kangaroo hanging up in the outhouse in a large perforated zinc safe that was standing on four legs, and each leg stood in a dish of water to prevent the swarms of ants from getting into the safe. While he was frying the steak I looked round the house. It was a square block-house, divided into two apartments, one being used as a bedroom, in it were two camp beds, and two hammocks slung from the overhead beams. There were two wooden boxes and a few small stools, no chairs or lounges, no luxury here, spartan simplicity was the order of the day. The other room in which I was sitting contained a miscellaneous assortment of articles dear to the heart of a sportsman—guns, revolvers, axes, picks, and two or three spades, some fishing tackle, saddles and bridles, several pairs of spurs, and a quantity of kangaroo, opossum, squirrel, and native bear skins.
“There you are mate,” said Harry, as he placed about a three pound steak and about two pounds of damper, and a huge billy of tea before me. “Wire away, and make a good square meal.”
I started to thank him, but whether it was from being without food for twenty-four hours and the excitement I had passed through on my tramp through the bush, and my meeting that unfortunate mad fellow, or some other cause I know not, but while he was speaking I collapsed in a dead faint. When I came to I was lying on the ground and he was bathing my head and face with water. I soon felt better again, and was able to eat a good breakfast of the steak and damper, washed down with the tea, and by this time I felt like a new man. After breakfast I thanked him heartily and was about to continue my journey, but Harry would not hear of it:
“Oh, no you don’t,” he said. “You must stay where you are for a few days, and rest yourself, and we will take you on to the lake afterwards, and I have no doubt we can find you employment.”
You may guess how glad I was to hear this, and I renewed my thanks.
“We don’t often get visitors from the Old Country this way,” he said, “so we make the most of those who do come.”