For one long weary day the mate's life had run parallel with our
chief's, and because of that, when he left us his heart was lighter than
ever we had dared to hope for. But this man was not to fade quite out of
our lives, for deep in that loyal heart the Maluka had been enshrined as
"one in ten thousand."
CHAPTER XVII
The bearer of the chief's message had also carried out all extra mail for
us, and, opening it, we found the usual questions of the South folk.
"Whatever do you do with your time?" they all asked. "The monotony would
kill me," some declared. "Every day must seem the same," said others:
every one agreeing that life out-bush was stagnation, and all marvelling
that we did not die of ennui.
"Whatever do you do with your time?" The day Neaves's mate left was
devoted to housekeeping duties--"spring-cleaning," the Maluka called it,
while Dan drew vivid word-pictures of dogs cleaning their own chains.
The day after that was filled in with preparations for a walk-about, and
the next again found us camped at Bitter Springs. Monotony! when of the
thirty days that followed these three every day was alike only in being
different from any other, excepting in their almost unvarying menu: beef
and damper and tea for a first course, and tea and damper and jam for a
second.
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