"Of course not!" he said, unhooking cups from various crooked-up fingers.
"It's a Territorian, you see."
"And had all the false veneer of civilisation peeled off long ago," the
Maluka said, adding, with a sly look at my discarded gloves and gossamer,
"It's wonderful how quietly the Territory does its work."
The Man-in-Charge smiled openly as he poured out the tea, proving thereby
his kinship with all other Territorians; and as the train came to a
standstill, swung off and slipped some letters into a box nailed to an
old tree-trunk.
At the far end of the train, away from the engine, the passengers' car
had been placed, and as in front of it a long, long line of low-stacked
sinuous trucks slipped along in the rear of the engine, all was open view
before us; and all day long, as the engine trudged onwards--hands in
pockets, so to speak, and whistling merrily as it trudged--I stood beside
the Maluka on the little platform in front of the passengers' car,
drinking in my first deep, intoxicating draught of the glories of the
tropical bush.
There were no fences to shut us in; and as the train zig-zagged through
jungle and forest and river-valley--stopping now and then to drink deeply
at magnificent rivers ablaze with water-lilies--it almost seemed as
though it were some kindly Mammoth creature, wandering at will through
the bush.
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