“That’s where we live, so we can take you to it,” replied the lad. “You have, however, come somewhat out of your way, and must have passed it on your right.”
I thanked him. “And who are you?” I asked.
“We are Mr Strong’s sons,” he replied. “We came here to look for some stray cattle which are hid in this scrub, so we shall first have to drive them out, but that won’t take us long. We left our horses hobbled close at hand while we stopped, intending to take our dinner, as we have been out since the morning.”
“We were going to do the same,” I observed. “Here comes my brother Guy; if you haven’t eaten your dinner you’ll join us, won’t you?”
“Of course!” he said laughing. “And I conclude that you are Guy and Maurice Thurston, our cousins we have been expecting out from the old country for some months past. My name is Hector. That is my brother Oliver. I suppose you have heard of us?”
I had to confess that I had not before heard their names, though I did not like to say how little I knew about them.
Guy, Toby, and I, having dismounted and allowed our horses to drink at the pool, hobbled them and let them go away to feed, while we sat down in a shady spot to discuss our provisions. Our cousins produced damper, cold beef and cheese from their pockets; while Toby placed before us a piece of a kangaroo
which we had shot the previous day and some biscuits, while we all contented ourselves with a draught of water from the pool.
The meal was quickly despatched, when our cousins jumped up saying that they must look out for the cattle, and that as soon as we saw the herd rounded up and clear of the scrub, we might follow in the rear. They advised us to take care should any of them charge us, as they were apt to be vicious, and Toby might have a difficulty in escaping. “You need not hurry yourselves,” they added, “but when you hear the sound of our stock whips, you had better mount and be ready to start.”