So Archie did as he was told, and very much interested was Captain Vesey.
“And now, captain, you must promise to run down, and see us all in the Bush. We’re a jolly nice family party, I can assure you.”
“I promise, my boy, right heartily. I hope to be back in Brisbane in six months. Expect to see me then.”
They dined together, and spent the evening talking of old times, and planning all that they would do when they met.
Next day they parted.
The end of this spring was remarkable for floods. Never before had our heroes seen such storms of rain, often accompanied with thunder and lightning. Archie happened to be out in the forest when it first came on.
It had been a hot, still, sulphurous morning, which caused even the pet kangaroo to lie panting on his side. Then a wind came puffing and roaring through the trees in uncertain gusts, shaking the hanging curtains of climbing plants, rustling and rasping among the sidelong leaved giant gums, tearing down tree ferns and lovely orchids, and scattering the scented bloom of the wattle in every direction.
With the wind came the clouds, and a darkness that could be felt.
Then down died the fitful breeze, and loud and long roared and rattled the thunder, while the blinding lightning seemed everywhere. It rushed down the darkness in rivers like blood, it glanced and glimmered on the pools of water, and zigzagged through the trees. From the awful hurtling of the thunder one would have thought every trunk and stem were being rent and riven in pieces.
Tell—the horse—seemed uneasy, so Archie made for home. The rain had come on long before he reached the creek, but the stream was still fordable.