Page:On Our Selection.djvu/20

6 the vessel bumping against your leg every time you stumbled in the long grass. Somehow, none of us liked carrying water. We would sooner keep the fires going all day without dinner than do a trip to the springs.

One hot, thirsty day it was Joe's turn with the bucket, and he managed to get back without spilling very much. We were all pleased because there was enough left after the tea had been made to give each a drink. Dinner was nearly over; Dan had finished, and was taking it easy on the sofa, when Joe said:

"I say, Dad, what's a nater-dog like?" Dad told him: "Yellow, sharp ears and bushy tail."

"Those muster bin some then thet I seen—I don't know 'bout the bushy tail—all th' hair had corned off." "Where'd y' see them, Joe?" we asked. "Down 'n th' springs floating about—dead."

Then everyone seemed to think hard and look at the tea. I did n't want any more. Dan jumped off the sofa and went outside; and Dad looked after Mother.

At last the four acres—excepting the biggest of the ironbark trees and about fifty stumps—were pretty well cleared; and then came a problem that could n't be worked-out on a draught-board. I have already said that we had n't any draught horses; indeed, the only thing on the selection like a horse was an old "tuppy" mare that Dad used to straddle.