Ah, thats a long, long way from here, allthat, he
said, half to himself.
Then he raised his ashen-grey face and gave Sambo a
look ofhopeless misery. He was fully awake and out of the door in an
instant.
He took his blankets down to the pensand slept
among the sheep.
When he pulled on the poles theroof fell in and a
tar-soaked tarpaulin inside flared up. Sambo nodded shrewdly and loosened his rein.
Once more, as in the lambing-time, peace departed from the camp. He reached into the
cart andthrew a piece of hobble-chain on the ground. A hundred droppedin the night
and only five died.
After this helost his head completely, and before
the last black had disappearedhe shot two more.
Down atthe camp a semicircle of bent figures was
forming round the fire. The blanket round hisfeet was soaking wet.
The valley was mosaiced with ragged sheets ofsilver
that harboured a hundred moons. Day and night birds went over in
hugeflocks.
Hesat staring dully at the grey oblong of window,
weighed down by hismisery. At the last momentCabell got hold of the keg and threw it
over the edge of the slope.
Marble masses of cloud rolled down from the
north-east andcracked open against the ranges.
Civilities exchanged, Sambo dug his one rusty old
bent spur intothe horse and rode on. Sambo was standing in the yard peering through
the twilight. Yet there might have been somemethod in this madness. Rainand sun
alternately drenched and baked them.
The noisehere fair lifts the top off your nut.
Sometimes he scared them out of their wits by putting in his falseteeth. Gursey came
up the slope and leant against the wall beside him.
The moon was a golden plate in the middle of a
blue-black sky.
At sunset aterrible thunderstorm passed
over.
As thedawn came Gursey fell asleep and Cabell went
out to help with thefoot-rotting sheep. They came down in small partiesfrom the
ranges and were away before Cabell knew what had happened. They came down in small
partiesfrom the ranges and were away before Cabell knew what had happened. Day and
night birds went over in hugeflocks.
Itsfair cruel, Sambo, he said in a little cracked
voice. Thehorse spun round and started down the hill towards the
homestead.
Again, he dreamt of McGovern, prompted by Gurseys
nightmarechatter.
Sambo was standing in the yard peering through the
twilight. A hundred droppedin the night and only five died.
He wanted tothrow himself on the bunk and sleep,
sleep for hours, days, weeks.
Marble masses of cloud rolled down from the
north-east andcracked open against the ranges. Aint I tryin to tell you when I has
half a chance, Billgrowled, hitched up his trousers. It was over at the Blue
Waterhole lastnight, neighin fit to lift the sky.