Cudgee owned to having seen him skulking among the Gully rocks.

A deserted gunya was found near a lonely, half-dry waterhole in the scrub, and there were rumours of a tribe of wild blacks having passed towards the outlying country in the Breeza Downs direction.
No news came, however, of either racial or labour warfare.

McKeith sent not a word of his doings, and Harry the Blower was not due yet on his postal, fortnightly round.
McKeith had been gone a week, and the time of his absence seemed like that sinister lull which comes after the sudden shock of an earthquake and the tornado that follows upon it.

Then, one day, something happened.
All the men except the Chinamen were out.

Moongarr Bill, Ninnis, and the stockmen on the run, while Maule--a book and a sandwich in his pocket--had gone herding with Joey Case and one of the extra hands.
A sense of mutual embarrassment had that day driven them apart.