‘What made it such a beastly shame,’ said Neil Barrington, ‘is that we shall all get “disgustingly rich,” as Hotson said, and be known as the pioneers of Gyp’s Land (as the men have christened the district), while the real hero lies in a half-forgotten grave.’
‘Time may make us as unthankful as the rest of the world,’ said Wilfred. ‘We can only console ourselves with the thought that we sincerely mourned our poor friend, and that Hubert Warleigh’s memory will remain green, long after recognition of his services has faded away. It has had a lasting effect upon O’More. The poor fellow believes himself to blame for the disaster. I have scarcely seen him smile since.’
‘He’s a good, kind-hearted fellow,’ said Fred Churbett, ‘and I honour him for it. He told me that he never regretted anything so much in his life as disregarding Warleigh’s advice about the blacks. He said the poor chap made no answer to some stupid remarks about being afraid of naked savages, but smiled gravely, and walked away without another word. Yet, to save O’More’s life, he gave his own!’
‘Whom the gods love die young,’ said Hamilton. ‘Some of us may yet have cause to envy him. And now, about the choice of runs. How are we to arrange that?’
‘We are now in the good country,’ said Argyll. ‘Towards the coast, we shall all meet with more first-class grazing land than we know what to do with. I think no one should be nearer than seven miles or more than ten miles from any other member of the Association. I for one will go nearer to the coast.’
‘And I,’ said Fred Churbett, ‘will stay just where I am. This is good enough for me, as long as I can defend myself against the lords of the soil.’
There was no difficulty in locating the herds of the association upon their ‘pastures new.’ In every direction waved the giant herbage of a virgin wilderness. There were full-fed, eager-running rivers, for which the melting snow at their sources furnished abundant supplies. There were deep fresh-water lakes, on the shores of which were meadows and headlands rich with matted herbage.
Wild-fowl swarmed in the pools and shallows. Kangaroos were so plentiful that old Tom’s dogs ‘were weary at eve when they ceased to slay,’ and commenced to look with indifference upon the scarcely-thinned droves. Timber for huts and stock-yards was plentiful; so that axes, mauls, and wedges were soon in full and cheerful employment. Each squatter selected an area large enough for his stock for the next dozen years, keeping sufficiently close to his friends for visiting, but not near enough for complications. In truth, the rivers and creeks were of such volume that they easily supplied natural boundaries.
As for Wilfred and Guy, they carefully followed out the instructions of their lost friend, until they verified the exact site of the ‘run’ he had recommended to them. This they discovered to be a peninsula. On one side stretched the shore of a lake, and on the other a deep and rapid river flowed, forming a natural enclosure many miles in extent, into which, when they had turned their herd, they had little trouble in keeping them safely.
‘My word!’ said Guy, ‘this is something like a country. Why, we have run for five or six thousand head, and not a patch of scrub or a range on the whole lot of it. Splendid open forest, just enough for shelter; great marshes and flats, where the stock are up to their eyes in grass and reeds. When the summer comes, it will be like a garden. It rains here every year and no mistake.’