‘What other thing?’ asked Lilburne.
‘A death in the Waste,’ replied his wife sadly. ‘It is a gamble with the King of Terrors. He [221] ]won in a late encounter. Two brothers—sons of the soil—trained bushmen too, left their bones on the same track last year.’
‘Killed by the blacks, I suppose?’
‘No! They went off the recognised trail, believing that they would find water, but were deceived. They left a letter written just before delirium set in—with farewells to their kin. Their bones were found by the next exploring party.’
‘There are blanks, it appears, as well as prizes—though, after your banquet, it is hard to believe in anything but general prosperity. Fortune of war, of course, and so on.’
. . . . . . . . .
Five o’clock in the afternoon was the hour named, and, faithful to his engagement, Mr. Southwater drove up to the door of the Palace Hotel, with a pair of well-groomed, efficient-looking horses and a double-seated American buggy. This, it may be mentioned, is the accepted vehicle for business, or pleasure, on all goldfields, pastoral stations, and, indeed, throughout Australia generally—when fashionable metropolitan form is not imperative. If the load be heavy, the American waggonette is employed—which combines the lightness and toughness of the buggy with a weight-carrying capacity unknown to any ordinary vehicle of British origin. The practical advantages of this carriage were enhanced by the addition of a collapsible hood of white canvas, a protection equally from sun, wind, or rain; thus combining lightness, [222] ]and a cool appearance, with efficiency. Mr. Southwater had been asked to bring a lady with him, to make the party even, as well as to provide agreeable society for Mr. Lilburne, while his wife sat in the front seat, and conversed with him as driver.
‘Whom would you like, Mrs. Lilburne?’
‘Oh, I leave that to your taste and discretion. You know everybody in Pilot Mount, as well as in Perth, I believe.’
‘If Mrs. Wharton has returned from Perth, she would be the ideal fourth. If not, one of the Harley girls, or Jean White.’