CHAPTER VIII. 

 ACROSS THE PLAINS 



WHEN news came, in October, 1913, that it was 

 a good season for bird life in Riverina, I 

 promptly telegraphed to my naturalist friend 

 at Jerilderie, saying that I would join him in a trip 

 across the plains, to Yanco Creek and the Ibis swamps. 

 But it was near the end of November before I could 

 leave Melbourne. 



A rail journey of 156 miles brought me to Tocum- 

 wal, a thriving border town in New South Wales, 

 where I caught the Finley coach. There was only 

 one other passenger, a youth from the city, who talked 

 of horses incessantly, a popular topic wherever one 

 goes in Australia. But I was not interested in the 

 Melbourne Cup or any other racing event, and my 

 fellow-traveller must have classed me as a "queer 

 chap." We spent the night at Finley, a typical 

 Riverina township, and on the morrow morn secured 

 seats in the Jerilderie coach. Luggage and mer- 

 chandise occupied the greater proportion of space, 

 and I had a box seat. This was no great advantage, 

 for it was cold in the wind till noon, when more genial 

 conditions prevailed. The driver was not in a com- 

 municative vein; he answered questions shortly, and 

 rarely volunteered a remark. Some coach drivers are 

 great talkers, and their conversation is interesting; 

 but, now and again, one meets the silent man. Of 

 a certain driver it is related, that he spoke to a box- 

 seat passenger twice in the course of two hours. As 

 the coach passed a sun-burned bushman on the road 

 the driver said, "Do you see that man?" "Yes," was 

 the expectant reply. But the man with the reins 



