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284 past the region of human tracks into the Gorges and camp for the night as near as might be to Baròlin Fall.

It was a goodly cavalcade, the two buggies, an escort of black boys leading spare horses, and followed by a pack of kangaroo hounds. Sam Shehan as pioneer—Sam always dour of face, but the typical stockman, in his tight mole-skins turned up at the bottom, his flannel shirt, and diagonally folded handkerchief knotted sailor-fashion on his chest, his cabbage tree hat on the back of his head, his stockwhip over his right shoulder, the thong trailing behind him, his waist-strap with its many pouches and implements of the bush, including a leather revolver case—for almost all the gentlemen carried revolvers—a precaution adopted on the Luya since the diamond robbery. There was always a hope of an encounter with Moonlight. The half-castes rode with Shehan, and kept somewhat apart from the other black boys. Elsie regarded the trio with a sort of instinctive shrinking, and yet with that vague interest which in her mind associated itself with anyone or anything that was connected with Blake. Trant was there of course, on a splendid animal, mettlesome yet docile, and as Trant said, accustomed to the ranges. Lady Waveryng, in her trim hunting get-up and mounted on Jem Hallett's best thorough-bred lady's hack, looked like an importation from the Shires. Every incident of the little journey gave fresh material. There was a spin after a kangaroo, and then one of the stockmen killed a 'guana, a black boy skinned it, carrying off the carcase for a camp supper, while Lady Waveryng bought the skin on the spot, and declared she would have it stuffed to take home with her. Then, as they skirted the scrub, the bell-bird rang its silvery peal, and the whip-bird gave its coachman's click. Never was September day more tender and dreamy and sweet, with always that strange exhilaration in the air which sets pulses old and young tingling.

"I will be happy; I will be happy," Elsie kept repeating to herself. She put away dark thoughts of Blake. He was going out of her life; he must be thrust out of her life; and she would begin to-day the battle with her ghost. It was