“Mine bin good to her,” she said, thickly. “Baal mine ever beat that one!” Just for an instant she stood looking at them in dumb agony. Then she put the child down with a swift gentleness, and, turning, fled into the gloom of the Bush.
CHAPTER XIX
THE LAST NIGHT
The gray gums by the lonely creek,
The star-crowned heights,
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 bells’ melody remote,