‘Umph!’ said Mr Barton glancing kindly, but with rather a troubled face, at the flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes upturned to his own. And as he rode over the run that day the burden of his thoughts was that the sooner his serene-tempered jackaroo got tired of the Bush the better it would be for all of them.
. . . . . . . . . .
‘Ned, if the river ain’t a-risin’, an’ risin’ precious quick, too, call me a Dutchman! ’Arf-an-hour ago the water warn’t near them bullocks, and now it’s right agin their ’eels!’
‘Well,’ replied his mate, glancing towards the brown stream slowly spreading over the flat, ‘we’re safe enough. I’ll forgive it if it comes over this. Tell you what, though, you might catch the pony an’ canter up to the station, an’ tell ole Barton as there’s some water a-comin’. He might have some stock he’d like to git out o’ the road. An’ you might’s well git a lump o’ meat while you’re there.’
So Ned, of the travelling bullock team, went with the news to Tarnpirr, lower down.
But Mr Barton that very morning had been to Warrooga township, and the telegraph people had said no word of floods or heavy rain at the head of the river. [214] ]Around Tarnpirr and district the weather had been dry for weeks, so the Manager was not in the least uneasy.
‘It’s only a bit of a fresh, Brown,’ said he. ‘It’ll soon go down again. Thanks all the same, though. Meat? Yes, of course. And now you’d better go over to the kitchen and get your dinner.’
‘Boss reckons it’s nothin’,’ said Ned, returning that evening. ‘No rain fall’d up above.’
‘We wouldn’t need shift anyhow,’ replied the other, preparing to cook the meat given them by Mr Barton, who little dreamt how welcome it would be to some people later on. ‘We’re a lot higher here than they are at the station. I saw “Barton’s Jackaroo” just now, out ridin’ with Miss Daisy. He’s a rum stick, he is.’
‘But ain’t she a little star!’ exclaimed Ned enthusiastically.