The grey gums by the lonely creek
The star-crowned height,
The wind-swept plain, the dim blue peak,
The cold white light,
The solitude spread near and far
Around the camp-fire's tiny star,
The horse-bell's melody remote,
The curlew's melancholy note,
Across the night.
GEORGE ESSEX EVANS
PALS
CHAPTER I
BY WAY OF INTRODUCTION
"Happy season of virtuous youth, when shame is still an impassable barrier, and the sacred air cities of hope have not shrunk into the mean clay hamlets of reality; and man by his nature is yet infinite and free."—CARLYLE.
"Comin' over to-night, Tom?"
"By jings! I'd like to, Joe, but dad said this morning he was going to shell corn to-night. You know what that means. What's on?"
"Oh! Sandy's stayin' in for the night; so I thought of gettin' Jimmy Flynn an' Yellow Billy so's we could have bushrangers, an' stick up the coach by moonlight. If they can't come, Sandy an' I'll go 'possumin' in the slaughter-house paddock."
"I say! what a jolly lark the bushranging'd be. How'd you manage it, Joe?"
"We've planned that out all right. We'd get Jimmy Flynn's billy-goat cart an' the billies. He'd be mailman, an' it'd be gold-escort day. Yellow Billy'd be the trooper; he's got a pistol, you know. He'd ride the roan steer he's broken in. Then you, Sandy, an' I'd be Ben Bolt's gang. We'd do a plant in a lonely spot along the road an' surprise 'em. I'd tackle Billy, you'd look after Jimmy, Sandy 'd collar the mailbags and gold boxes, and then scoot with the loot. I think it'd be better to shoot Billy, so's to make it a bit more real; that's what Ben Bolt'd do."