Jim’s “bump on the head” luckily proved not very serious. A handkerchief, soaked in the creek by Wally, who rode there and back at a wild gallop, proved an effective bandage applied energetically by Harry, who had studied “first-aid” in an ambulance class. Ten minutes of this treatment, however, proved as much as Jim’s patience would stand, and at the end of that time he firmly removed the handkerchief, and professed himself cured.
“Nothing to make a fuss about, anyhow,” he declared, in answer to sympathetic inquiries. “Head’s a bit ‘off,’ but nothing to grumble at. It’ll be all right, if we ride along steadily for a while. I don’t think I’ll do any more racing just now though, thank you!”
“Who won that race?” queried Harry, laughing. The spirits of the little party, from being suddenly at zero, had gone up with a bound.
“Blessed if I know,” said Jim. “I only know I was leading until Mick ended matters for me.”
“I led after that, anyhow,” said Wally. “Couldn’t pull my beauty up, he was so excited by Mick’s somersault.”
“I’d have won, in the long run!” Norah said. There were still traces of tears in her eyes, but her face was merry enough. She was riding very close to Jim.
“Yes, I think you would,” Jim answered; “you and Bobs were coming up like a hurricane last time I looked round. Never mind, we’ll call it anybody’s race and have it over again sometime.”
They rode along for a few miles, keeping close to the river, which wound in and out, fringed with a thick belt of scrub, amongst which rose tall red-gum trees. Flights of cockatoos screamed over their heads, and magpies gurgled in the thick shades by the water. Occasionally came the clear whistle of a lyre bird or the peal of a laughing jackass. Jim knew all the bird-notes, as well as the signs of bush game, and pointed them out as they rode. Once a big wallaby showed for an instant, and there was a general outcry and a plunge in pursuit, but the wallaby was too quick for them, and found a safe hiding-place in the thickest of the scrub, where the ponies could not follow.
“We cross the creek up here,” Jim said, “and make ’cross country a bit. It saves several miles.”
“How do you cross? Bridge?” queried Wally.