'Blest if I didn't think he was going to keep us wandering in this blessed Nulla Mountain all day.

I wish I'd never seen the blessed cattle.

I was only waiting for you to hook it when we first seen the brands by daylight, and I'd ha' been off like a brindle "Mickey" down a range.' 'Better for us if we had,' I said; 'but it's too late now.

We must stick to it, I suppose.' We had kept the cattle going for three or four miles through the thickest of the country, every now and then steering our course by the clear round top of Sugarloaf, that could be seen for miles round, but never seemed to get any nearer, when we came on a rough sort of log-fence, which ran the way we were going.
'I didn't think there were any farms up here,' I said to Jim.
'It's a "break",' he said, almost in a whisper.

'There's a "duffing-yard" somewhere handy; that's what's the matter.' 'Keep the cattle along it, anyway.