“No thank you, mate,” answered Joseph. “I made up my mind when I came out to this country never to touch liquor, and I find not only that I can get on without it, but that I am much the better without it. I used to take it in England, and I am ashamed to say how much of my wages went in drink. I wish to be friendly with you, Marks, but I shouldn’t show my good feeling by drinking your rum.”
“As you like,” said Marks. “It isn’t often you have such a chance in the bush. However, it’s liberty hall, and no man is forced to do what he doesn’t like.”
Peach now seemed to take a hint from Marks, and pretended once more to be friendly with Joseph. “I don’t bear malice, Rudge,” he said, holding out his hand. “May be one of these days you’ll see things in a different way, and understand that I wanted only to do you a good turn.”
“I hope not,” answered Joseph, going towards the door. “I think I understand you pretty clearly; and I pray that I may never be brought to call black white.”
“A canting hypocrite!” exclaimed Peach, as Joseph rode off.
Joseph offered up a silent prayer, “Lead us not into temptation.”
As the stockman rode on he saw by the look of the sky that one of those fierce storms which occasionally visit parts of Australia, was threatening. He had reached his farthest point from home. The country was wild. There was no regular road, only a track which it required sharp eyes to find out in some places. He pushed on, hoping to get home before the storm broke. Presently, however, loud peals of thunder burst from the sky; the lightning darted along the ground and among the trees with a crackling noise, which made his horse start from side to side. Down came the rain like a water-spout, and the wind sprung up and blew in fierce gusts, tearing off huge branches of the trees, and now and then uprooting the trees themselves. Joseph saw that it would be dangerous to take shelter under any of the trees, so he kept as much as he could in the open ground.
He had not gone far when he heard a cry. It was from some fellow-creature, he was certain of that. He looked about on every side, and at last saw that a falling tree had struck down a black man, who lay beneath it unable to move.
Joseph fastening his horse to a stump, ran towards the poor fellow. He was alive, and his body seemed uninjured, but his foot had been caught by the trunk and held him fast. Had he been alone he must have died a horrible death, for it was clear that he could not have released himself. The black fellow saw Joseph coming, and made signs to show his gratitude, uttering a few words of broken English. When, however, Joseph came to look at the tree, he found that it would be no easy matter to get the poor black from under it. He had an axe in his belt, and with it he cut down a young sapling for a handspike, but when he tried it he found that he could not lift the heavy trunk. Then he set to work to dig under the foot, but the ground was as hard as a rock.
The black then made signs that he might drive something under it, and so lift the tree.