VI 
A WEARY RIDE 
79 
ling and laughing to themselves as if they were enjoying 
great jokes at our expense, and no doubt we were a 
ludicrous sight, for peal after peal of merriment broke 
from them at each fresh push that the horses gave : 
there is no better barometer than this same merry old 
bird, as when wet weather comes his spirits immediately 
fall below zero. We also saw a pair of scrub turkeys ; 
their nest is a mound of leaves and twigs, sometimes 
three and four feet high ; the eggs are laid in tiers, two 
and three birds sharing the same mound ; they partially 
cover the nest with sand, and leave the eggs to be 
hatched by the sun. The ordinary wild turkey hatches 
its eggs in a flat nest on the ground. 
The country now became very rough and broken, 
with high pinnacles and large blocks of rock in heaped- 
up confusion, interspersed with patches of scrub, and 
flowering banksias. We jogged along picking our 
way for miles under dazzling sunshine. With a weary 
solitary slowness, Joe, never at any time communicative, 
smoked his pipe of peace. Mrs. S. also for hours main- 
tained a stoical silence. Our appetites sharpened in 
advance as we caught sight of the rough bush hut, 
where with a sigh of relief the tired breakfastless 
animals hailed our halt for the night. Our even- 
ing repast finished, we felt substantially happy, and I 
stretched my poor machine of a body in blessed 
thankfulness for rest on that homeliest of canvas 
bunks. 
At four next morning we started, for it is a very 
heavy day’s journey from here on to Springfield. 
We crossed a branch of the Lynd river and next day 
the wide sand-beds of the Einnesleigh by mid-day, and 
at the foot of a rocky range of hills halted for lunch and 
an hour’s rest for the horses. It was a good stiff 
climb to the top, and we all walked up. On the 
