So did his hands.

He had thin straight hair, high cheek-bones, and a drooping black moustache.

But the eyes were the most remarkable feature.

Very keen and piercing they were, deep-set in the head; even when he was looking straight at anyone he seemed to be peering into endless space through the man in front of him.

Such eyes men get from many years of staring over great stretches of sunlit plain where no colour relieves the blinding glare--nothing but dull grey clumps of saltbush and the dull green Mitchell grass.
His whole bearing spoke of infinite determination and self-reliance--the square chin, the steadfast eyes, telling their tale as plainly as print.
In India he might have passed for an officer of native cavalry in mufti; but when he spoke he used the curious nasal drawl of the far-out bushman, the slow deliberate speech that comes to men who are used to passing months with the same companions in the unhurried Australian bush.