
“Any sign of Canute and his people, Bill?”
“Sort of local? Naw, Mr Wootton. They’re never to hand when wanted. They’ll be away up on the Neales by now, living on lizards and ants, going for corroborees and such like, and putting the young fellers through the hoop.”
“Charlie promised he would come back early to give a hand with the muster.”
“You’ll see Charlie when you see Meena. And that’ll be when Canute says so. He’s their boss. You can send ’emto the Mission Station, teach ’emto read and write and sing hymns, but in the end they do just what old Canute tells ’em.”
“Yes, yes, I know,” Mr Wootton agreed explosively. “All right, Bill. Want anything from town?”
“Well, you could bring me acoupla pairs of them grey pants you got me last winter. Oh, an’ what about a couple of ladies’ handkerchiefs? Small ones with lace round the edges, and the letter ‘L’ in the corner. Thestore’ll have them kind. I got a sort of sister called… why, hullo, Linda, I didn’t see you.”
“You did so, Bill,” argued Linda, from whose face disappointment had been banished by joy.
“Oh, Linda!” said Mr Wootton. “Will your mother allow you to go with Arnold?”
“Mother says not to, Mr Wootton. Mother says I have to stay and help her because Meena and the others are still away.”
“I didn’t think of that, Linda. Of course you must help your mother. All right, Bill. I’ll not forget the handkerchiefs and the box of nut chocolates.”
Mr Wootton re-entered his office, and Linda accompanied Bill to the yards, where the other riders were saddling up. She watched them leave, and then went back to the house, and demurely dried breakfast dishes for her mother.
After that, lessons at the kitchen table until nine o’clock, when Mrs Bell sounded the house gong, made tea, and provided buttered scones. Mr Wootton came to the kitchen for morning tea, standing the while, and noting on a pad the items Mrs Bell needed. Linda accompanied him to the car shed, and stood watching as the dust and sun-glare took the car up into the sky over the track to Loaders Springs.
