The Second String

ng line of wire which runs for hundreds of miles between New South Wales and Quee

of grass was to be seen. The baked ground gasped with thirs

away. He was dried, shrivelled, mere skin and bone. Yet he was strong, enduring, capable of going long journeys; an heroic beast, fighting a terrific battle against tremendous odds; a faithful companion, a true fr

g his hand on the wire, then snatchin

in this cursed cou

his nose agains

. Thirsty? of course; so am I. We'll hav

at. He was no common man. His speech was not that of the keepers of the fence, or the bulk of them, for there were many and strange beings on these hundreds of miles of wire line. The majority were old boundary riders, stockmen, tank sinkers, fencers, teamsters. In another class were criminals, convicts and men wh

ion from which any educated man must shrink. He wanted to be alone. He could not have come to a better plac

The surprise was genuine. It was long since a man of this stamp had entered Boonara. He was amused at the people, and wondered if there was one respectably clean inhabitant. Then

nded with solitary shots. At the end of the first day the people of Boonara were not a jot wiser about him. One fact was patent, he had money. It

e because it was convenient to his work. Gradually, in oddments, other men came to the place. It was a bachelor township until some enterprising man, bolder than the rest, and more saving, ventured to Sydney and returned with a wife. She was the only woman in the township for a long time, and was regarded with a certain amount of awe and wonder. The consensus of opinion

a deluge over the parched earth, filling up the gaping cracks and crevices, hissing and swishing over the land, bringing life, in every drop a new birth. Then the plains woke up. Miles upon miles of dull-brown crumbling grassless spaces became green and refreshing. Strange sights followed these deluges. In a mysterious manner sheep appeared in thousands wandering across the plains, nibbling this wonderful and succulent food f

the wire fence. But they met the keepers of it at l

ghable, and sometimes pathetic. Although the Boonarites were far from civilisation they had their pride, and regarded the keepers of the fe

ites placed upon an equality with themselves, and

ay, and only three people had visited him there. He did not encourage them. Loneliness sat lightly upon him, so it seemed. Bill Bigs was the most frequent visitor, and when he rode there, or drove in his buggy, it was seldom empty-handed. Somewhere, hidden in the bowels of the earth beneath Bill's shanty, there was mysteriou

with inferior stuff, and when Bill vis

hen he saw one, and he put down the occupier of the hut in this category. He, however, knew nothing about his friend, except that he was worth a dozen ordinary fence keepers. The man never spoke of his past, or explained why he was in the most solitary place in this vast land. In vain Bill tried to induce him to talk. There was a threat

e's a fire within that keeps me alive; it burns, but never dies down. Ther