“We will, sir,” chorused the boys.
Norah leant from her saddle and slipped an arm round her father’s neck.
“Good-bye, Dad, dear.”
“Good-bye, my little girl. Be careful—don’t forget.” Mr. Linton kissed her fondly. “Well, you’re all in a hurry—and so am I, to get back to bed! So-long, all of you. Have a good time.”
“So-long!” The echoes brought back the merry shout as the six ponies disappeared round the bend in the track.
Down the track to the first gate helter-skelter—Billy, holding it open, showed his white teeth in a broad grin as the merry band swept through. Then over the long grass of the broad paddock, swift hoofs shaking off the dewdrops that yet hung sparkling in the sunshine. Billy plodded far behind with the packhorse, envy in his heart and discontent with the fate that kept him so far in the rear, compelled to progress at the tamest of jogs.
The second paddock traversed, they passed through the sliprails into a bush paddock known as the Wide Plain. It was heavily timbered towards one end, where the river formed its boundary, but towards the end at which they entered was almost cleared, only a few logs lying here and there, and occasionally a tall dead tree.
“What a place for a gallop!” said Harry. His quiet face was flushed and his eyes sparkling.
“Look at old Harry!” jeered Wally. “He’s quite excited. Does your mother know you’re out, Hal?”
“I’ll punch you, young Wally,” retorted Harry. “Just you be civil. But isn’t it a splendid place? Why, there’s a clear run for a mile, I should say.”