The old man heard him
stirring and rolling, and sat up in his bunk. "What's up, Mister?"
he said kindly. "D'you find it a hard camp?"
"Not too easy," said the Englishman. "Always seems to be a deuced
hard place just under your hip, don't you know?"
"I'll put you right in a brace of shakes," said Considine. "I've
got the very thing to make a soft bed. Half a minute now, and I'll
get it for you."
He went out to the back of the house, and returned with a dry white
bullock-hide, as rigid as a sheet of iron. This he threw down at
Carew's feet.
"Here y'are, Mister; put that under you for a hipper, and you'll
be all right."
Carew found the hide nearly as hard as the bare floor, but he
uttered profuse thanks, and said it was quite comfortable; to which
the old man replied that he was sure it must be, and then threw
himself back on his bunk and began snoring at once. But Carew lay
long awake.
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE WILD CATTLE.
Carew awoke next morning to find that it was broad daylight, and
the horses had been run in, caught, and saddled, all ready for a
start to the run. Breakfast was soon disposed of, and the cavalcade
set out. Naturally, the old man had heaps of questions to ask about
his inheritance, and made the Englishman ride alongside while he
questioned him.
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