Midsummer's Eve

He found a patch of trees-tall eucalyptus. There was not a great deal of shade. The country was rocky here and he led us to a mass of projecting stones beneath which it was almost like a cave.

"There's a little creek here," he said. "It should give the horses some refreshment.

And the boulder will give us a little shade. This is where we stay.”

It was pleasant lying under the boulder while my mother handed round cold meat and bread which we had brought with us. There was ale to drink.

Greg had stretched himself out close to me. He said: "Now we'll stay here. No hurry.

No use going off till it's a bit cooler. We'll do better that way and we'll just about get to a little place I know where we can stay the night. They are few and far between ... these accommodation places. Not enough to keep 'em going. This one's run by a couple whose main business is farming. Taking the odd guests is a bonus. It helps to make ends meet.”

"You know your way around and we're lucky to have you, Greg," said my father.

"Should do," replied Greg, conceding the point. "I've been hereabouts quite a bit.”

I asked Helena if she were comfortable and she said she was.

"I should try to sleep," I said.

"We should all try to sleep," added Greg.

So having eaten we lay there through that hot afternoon. I half dozed and found myself thinking of all that had happened in London and how far away all that seemed from this land of hot sun, bright birds, tall eucalyptus and the seemingly endless scrub.

I thought of poor tormented Joe and wondered what he was doing now; I thought of Rolf who had a habit of forcing his way into my thoughts. Would he be riding round his estate making plans to enlarge it?

I had fallen asleep.

I was awakened by movement all around me.

I heard Greg cry: "Come on now. Time to get moving.”

And soon we were riding through that sun-baked land. We went at a good pace. Greg said: "Want to make sure of our beds for tonight.”

It was just getting dark when we arrived. It was a small house of one storey. A woman came to the door as we approached. She must have heard the clatter of horses' hoofs and the wheels of the buggy. It ad not been the most comfortable of rides, particularly the last part when we had travelled at some speed.

I looked anxiously at Helena. She was pale but that was not unusual.

"Was it very uncomfortable?" I whispered to her.

"Well ... a little.”

"We do go at a spanking pace.”

"But you feel safe with Greg," she said; and I had to agree with that.

We were taken in to a room which was already laid for a meal. Steaks were cooking on a big stove in a kitchen where the heat must have been intolerable.

"I've made some dampers," said our hostess. "They should go down a treat.”

And we sat down and ate as we were, although Mother, Helena and I would have preferred to wash first. But we were hungry and the food tasted good.

The woman and her husband-Gladys and torn Pickory hovered about us while we ate. They kept refilling the tankards from which we drank beer. We were far more tired than we had realized and I could scarcely keep my eyes open.

There were only two rooms available. My mother, Helena and I were put in one, my father, Matthew and Greg in the other. We were given some water in which to wash but there was not much of it. However we lay in the one big bed and were soon fast asleep.

We were to leave at dawn, the procedure being as before so that we could get as far as possible before the intense heat of the day.

I had a few words with Mrs. Pickory before we left. She said Mr. Donnelly had told her he would endeavour to bring her a parry. He had called in on his way to Sydney.

"Sometimes he calls in and stays a night on his journeys back and forth. He tells other people about us. We're working this up into a real little business, thanks to Mr. Donnelly.”

I noticed how her eyes shone when she spoke of him as though there was something godlike about him. I supposed it was that innate masculinity, that sense of power which appealed to some people. Even Helena had said she felt safe with him.

Then we were off again. The scenery all around was the same as we had seen before.

I could understand how people got lost in what Greg called the outback.

With customary efficiency he found us a spot to rest and eat just as he had on the previous day and in due course we were on our way to the next house of accommodation; and after that it would be Sealands Creek and Cadorsons.

We were going along at a fair pace when something happened. My father called: "Look out. The wheel's coming off.”

Greg brought the buggy to an abrupt halt. He leaped down and stood for a few seconds looking at the wheel. My father had dismounted.

"I can see what it is," said Gregory. "I've got tools in the buggy. Wouldn't travel without them. It'll take a little time, though.”

He was looking round him. "There's a bit of shade over there. Not much. But it will have to do. All right. Ladies out. We'll get to work.”