"The roll of the tramcars," the Maluka interpreted gravely, as the long
flowing gutturals blended into each other; and Mac's mood suddenly
changing he entered into our sport, and soon put us to shame in
make-believing; spoke of "pining for a breath of fresh air"; "hoped" to
get away from the grime and dust of the city as soon as the session was
over; wondered how he would shape "at camping out," with an irrepressible
chuckle. "Often thought I'd like to try it," he said, and invited us to
help him make up a camping party. "Be a change for us city chaps," he
suggested; and then exploding at what he called his "tomfoolery," set the
dining-net all a-quivering and shaking.
"Gone clean dilly, I believe," he declared, after thinking that he had
"better be making a move for the last train."
Then, mounting his waiting horse, he splashed through the creek again,
and disappeared into the moonlit grove of pandanus palms beyond it.
The waggons spelled for two days at the Warlochs, and we saw much of the
"Macs." Then they decided to "push on"; for not only were others farther
"in" waiting for the waggons, but daily the dry stages were getting
longer and drier; and the shorter his dry stages are, the better a
bullock-puncher likes them.
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