Next morning the clatter of tin plates, and other accompaniments, upon the literal “board” which stood for the table and all appurtenances, aroused the new partner from a profound slumber.
The dim light of a cloudy dawn was struggling with the smoky flame of a tallow lamp of rude shape. The “billy” full of hot tea had just been placed upon the table by the acting cook, who had previously disposed a tin dish containing fried beef steaks beside it.
Snatching up his towel and sponge bag, the stranger made a rush for the creek bank, where a rude stage permitted him to indulge in a copious sluicing of his head, neck and shoulders.
Ice-cold as was the water, he achieved a glow after a vigorous application of his rough towel, and dressing in haste, was able to dispose of his share of the meal more or less creditably.
With more consideration than might have been expected, the dish of steaks had been put down by the fire and kept warm in his absence.
“I shall not over-sleep myself another morning,” he said, apologetically, “but I suppose the long day did tire me a bit. It was awfully slow too, stumbling over those rocky tracks. I shall be in better trim shortly.”
“Expect you will,” said the big digger, “a man’s always soft for the first week, specially if he hasn’t been used to the life. We’ll start for the claim, soon’s you’re through with breakfast; Jack and Dick’s off hours ago. There were cattle to take back, left here for the butcher.” He now remembered as in a dream having heard a dog bark, and a whip crack, in the middle of the night, as it seemed to him.
“Early birds,” he remarked sententiously; after which, finishing his second pannikin of tea, he expressed himself as ready for the road.
The mists were clearing from the mountain-side, which lay dark and frowning between the little party and the East, but ere long the curving shoulders of the range became irradiated. A roseate glow suffused the pale snow crown, transmuting it gradually into a jewelled coronet, while the mountain flanks became slowly illumined, exhibiting the verdant foot-hills, in clear contrast with the sombre, illimitable forest. As the sun’s disc became fully apparent, all Nature seemed to greet with gladness the triumph of the Day-god. The birds chirped and called in the dense underwoods through which the narrow path wound.
Flights of water-fowl high overhead winged their way to distant plains and a milder air. A rock kangaroo, cleared the streamlet with a bound and fled up the hillside like a mountain hare. A cloud of cockatoos flitted ghost-like across the tree-tops, betraying by an occasional harsh cry the fact that a sense of harmony had been omitted, when their delicately white robes were apportioned to them. As the sun gained power and brilliancy, Mr. Blount found the path easy to follow and his spirits began to rise.