Mac Mac Falls, three hundred feet straight drop , 

 into the rock-strewn gorge, where the straight walls 

 were draped with staghorn moss, like countless folds 

 of delicate green lace, bespangled by the spray. We 

 were felling and slipping timber for the goldfields then, 

 and it was in these surroundings that the work was 

 done. 



It was a Sunday morning, and I was lying on my 

 back on a sack-stretcher taking it easy, when Jock 

 gave a growl and trotted out. Presently I heard 

 voices in the next hut and wondered who the visitors 

 were too lazily content to get up and see ; then a 

 cold nose was poked against my cheek and I looked 

 round to see Jess's little eyes and flickering ears within 

 a few inches of my face. For the moment she did not 

 look cross, but as if a faint smile of welcome were 

 flitting across a soured face ; then she trotted back 

 to the other hut where Ted was patting Jock and try- 

 ing to trace a likeness to The Rat. 



It was a long time since mother and son had been 

 together, and if the difference between them was 

 remarkable, the likeness seemed to me more striking 

 still. Jock had grown up by himself and made him- 

 self ; he was so different from other dogs that I had 

 forgotten how much he owed to good old Jess ; but 

 now that they were once more side by side everything 

 he did and had done recalled the likeness and yet 

 showed the difference between them. Many times 

 as we moved about the camp or worked in the woods 

 they walked or stood together, sometimes sniffing; 

 along some spoor and sometimes waiting and watching 



