78 BUSH DAYS 



grown this year ; but we climbed over with only a scratched 

 wrist and a torn veil to tell of the struggle. And once inside 

 the hedge the way was clear. The little track across the grass 

 was just wide enough at first to w r alk single file, for here again 

 the blackberries had overspread their bounds, and tried to keep 

 us back. A few luscious berries still hung upon their stalks, 

 and tempted us to stay awhile ; but the brambles could not 

 keep us long, for our faces were set seaward, and we knew the 

 joys that awaited us. 



Xot that we hurried oh, no. Who could hurry across a 

 paddock with grass so soft and springy to the tread? Briskly 

 we walked, just for the joy of swinging across the responsive 

 turf; but hurry, never. There was too much to see upon the 

 way. The field of sorghum up the hill waved its tasselled tops 

 to us in greeting ; red cows, knee-deep in the long grass of the 

 valley, turned their friendly white faces upon us as we passed ; 

 a grey pony, feeding in the shade of the sheoaks, threw back 

 his head and whinnied to us. Swallows circled round our 

 heads before they flashed ofif to dip into the pool ; and across 

 the paddocks the magpies chortled and gurgled as if they too 

 were glad we had come. Who could hurry from such friendly 

 greetings? 



But the paddocks stretched ahead, and the swimming bath 

 was far to seek; so we left the stream and the shady she-oaks 

 behind, and went on up the hill and out into the open again. A 

 ground lark ran with twinkling feet before us, her striped 



