Читать книгу The Last Chance: A Tale of the Golden West онлайн

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‘And now, sir, as I’ve talked enough rot for a while, only I thought you was lookin’ rather down on it, and it might liven you up a bit, I see we’re on a bit of good saltbush where we can stop and give the horses a feed. I’ll fry a bit of the mutton for a relish, and make a pot of tea. There’s a plenty of the damper left as I baked a while back. We can take it easy while you have a “bange.” I’ll watch the nags, in case any one comes along. We can push on afterwards. Anyhow the horses will be all the better for a spell.’

ssss1Waters bustled about, unharnessing and hobbling the horses, which immediately began to nibble the saline bushes that seemed to have found a patch of congenial soil. Walking down a small gully or shallow ravine, he was fortunate enough to discover a tiny ‘soak’ under a rock, being directed thereto by a brace of the beautiful bronzewing pigeons. These birds will fly great distances to a spring or water-hole of any sort, but are difficult to shoot, as their habit is to drink rapidly, and fly back to their haunts so suddenly that it is a case of snap-shot, or too late.