There had been no Leah.

Or if Joan Gildea had ever played the part of Rachel in Colin McKeith's sentimental dreams, those boyish dreams had left no serious mark upon him.

He had gone north to a newly-formed station and had there out-bushed the bushman in his knowledge of the idiosyncrasies of cattle and sheep and his amazing faculty for spotting country suitable for either.

Here no doubt his descent from generations of herdsmen had stood him in good stead.
He sold his knowledge to rich squatters in the settled districts who employed him to take up new country for them and to manage the hundreds of square miles and the thousands of stock from which they derived the best part of their wealth.

But he only managed for other men until he had made enough money of his own to take up and stock new country for himself.
In a few years he had acquired a moderate-sized herd and established himself with it on the almost unexplored reaches of the Upper Leura.
Life on that river never lacked dangerous adventure.