beautiful things are written by Australians. You have much to learn about this great island continent of ours."
"Now we must turn toward home," said Mr. McDonald, and his wife said, "Drive back past Tarnpin, it is so beautiful about there. Tarnpin, or Flowing Water, is a favourite spot hereabouts. The Blacks have a quaint story about its origin, and I will tell it to you as old Tepal, a black chief, told it to me.
"It was the day time, and all the animals died of thirst. So many died that the Magpie, the Lark, and the Crane talked together, and tried to find water to drink.
"'It is very strange,' said the Magpie, 'that the Turkey Buzzard is never hungry.'
"'He must, then, have water to drink,' said the wise Crane.
"'He flies away every morning, very early,' said the Lark.
"'Let us rise before the sun and watch him,' said the Magpie, and they agreed.
"Next morning the Turkey Buzzard rose early and crept from his wuurie.3 He looked this way and that and saw no one. Then he flew away. He knew not that two bright eyes peeped at him through the leaves of the great gum tree. He did not hear the 'peep, peep' with which the Lark awoke his friends. The Lark, the Magpie and the Crane flew high to the sky. They flew so high that they looked as specks on the sun. The Turkey Buzzard saw them but thought they were small, dark clouds. He flew to a flat stone and lifted it up. And the water gushed from a spring in the rock and he drank and was satisfied. Then he put back the stone and flew away.
"The three friends laughed and were glad. Quickly they flew to the stone, singing, 'We have caught him!' and drank of the fresh water. They bathed in the pool and flapped their wings until the waters rose and became a lake of clear water. Then they spread their wings and flew over the earth, and the waters dropped from their wings and fell to the thirsty earth. They made there water holes, and ever since there have been drinking places all over the land."
"My but that's a jolly story," said Fergus, the irrepressible. "Did you really know the Blacks, Aunt Mildred? Are there any around here?"
"None very near," said his aunt. "Indeed, they are mostly dying out. People who have lived here a long time used to know them and say they were a kindly people. They were very fond of children and I do not think they were cruel or quarrelsome unless roused to anger. They have nearly all buried themselves in the Bush, but you will be likely to see some of them at our station. There used to be a number around the 'run,' and when we first came out we had some rather curious experiences with them. We do not see many now, their experiences with white people were not always pleasant, I am sorry to say."
"I hope we shall see some of them," said Fergus.
"I like black people," said little Jean.
"What does she know of Blacks?" asked her aunt, smiling, and her mother replied,
"Some people from the States came to our farm one fall for the shooting and they had a black nurse for the baby. Jean took a great fancy to her, and we simply couldn't keep her from toddling after Dinah. She was a faithful soul, so good and kind."
"Those who have lived here for many years say that if you once make a friend of a Black he will do anything for you," said Mr. McDonald. "I never had any trouble with them around my station, though other squatters did."
"I think it's all in the way you treat them," said his wife. "Of course the Blacks near the 'run' are not the wild Blacks from the interior, the man-eating kind, but a gentler race."
"Well, I hope we shall see some of them," said Fergus. "But I shouldn't care for cannibals."
CHAPTER IV
ON THE WAY TO THE "RUN"
It was a bright morning when they left Sydney to go to the station, taking the train early in the day, for there was a railway ride of several hours before them, as well as a long drive.
"Now you are going to see something of Australian life," said Mr. McDonald. "Life in Sydney or Melbourne is very little different from that in Liverpool or Glasgow. On the big stations it is much the same as on the country places at home, but my station is typical of Australia."
"Is it in the Bush, Uncle?" asked Fergus.
"Hear the laddie talking like an old squatter," laughed Mr. McDonald. "Yes and no. You see the Australians who live in the cities consider all the rest of the continent the Bush, but to those who live in the grazing and farming districts the country inland is the Bush or the 'Back Country.' Our run is beautifully situated just on the edge of the Dividing Range, and we are lucky enough to have a river running through one side, so that the run is seldom dry."
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