CHAPTER TWELVE.
A BLACK PERIL.
At the end of six days, though a long way from being a horseman, Nic had reached a pitch when he could mount without fear, and enjoy thoroughly a trot, canter, or gallop; and his father used laughingly to say that now he would not be ashamed to show him to his mother and sisters.
"It's a long, slow, monotonous journey, Nic," said the doctor, at the end of that sixth day; "but I don't think we've been idle." "Idle?
oh no, father," said Nic; "and I've enjoyed it thoroughly." "In spite of the rough way of living ?" "I haven't thought of that," replied Nic.

"It has all been so fresh and interesting, and there has been so much to see." "Well, you have been well introduced to the country, my boy, and you have mastered riding--a strong part of a settler's education, for you will have to help me hunt up the sheep and cattle, and save me many a long round.

Feel ready to see your mother and sisters ?" "Ready?
I'm longing to see them, father.

Are we getting near ?" "Yes; all being well, we shall sleep under our own roof to-morrow night, and have the waggon-load of stores and treasures under cover." That last night in the waggon was the most uncomfortable Nic had passed.
It was hot; there was a chest beneath him which had suddenly developed a hard edge and an awkward corner; the dogs, too, were uneasy, and barked a good deal at the moon.

Then some kind of animal in the plural number seemed to be holding a meeting up among the branches of the huge tree under which they encamped, for there were endless squealings and skirmishes about, which woke the boy again and again, to lie and listen, and think about his new home in the great Australian wilderness, of his mother and sisters, whether they were much changed, and ending, just before dozing off again, by wondering what they would think of him.
It was, then, with a feeling of no little satisfaction that he woke again to hear the magpie piping, and hurriedly scrambled out, fully convinced that he was up first that morning, but found, as usual, that the fire was already burning brightly, and that some one had been on the watch, not one of which had he been allowed to keep.
This time it was the man Leather whom Nic joined, towel in hand, on his way for his regular morning swim.
"Morning! You're first, then ?" The man gave him a nod, and by the light of the fire his face looked surly.
"Has my father been out yet ?" "Sleep in the front of the waggon." Nic felt disposed to go on, but he was in such high spirits that he was obliged to say a few words more.
"We shall be at the Bluff to-night." "Oh ?" said the man indifferently.
"Well, ain't you glad to get home ?" "No: I'm only a servant." "But it's your home for the present." The man threw a few more sticks on the fire, and said nothing.
"I say, Leather, what sort of a place is it ?" "Station's like other stations." "Yes, but is it pretty--beautiful ?" "No." "What?
My father said it was a grand place with a glorious view." "It's built of wood and thatched with bark, and you can see a long way." "But the mountains ?" "There are mountains; so there are for miles." "But the river ?" "There is a creek, but this time of the year it is mostly water-holes." "But it's a beautiful place to live in ?" "Is it ?" said the man coldly.
"Oh, I say, you want your breakfast!" said Nic laughingly.
"No; I am not hungry." "Then what's the matter with you, Leather ?" "Nothing." "Ah, well, I must go and have my dip." The man gave him a sour look, and Nic ran on, passing the horses grazing together, which were ready to look up and whinny a welcome.
"There," cried, the boy, as he gave each a friendly patting and stroked their cold wet noses; "you're ever so much better companions than old Leather.