its welcome, bushmen are lavish with their friendship. And as we roamed
about the tiny Settlement, the Wag and others vied with the Maluka, Mine
Host, and Mac in "making things pleasant for the missus": relating
experiences for her entertainment; showing all there was to be shown, and
obeying the edict with cheerful, unquestioning chivalry.

Neither the Head Stockman nor the little bushman, however, had made any
offers of friendship, Dan having gone out to the station immediately
after interviewing the Maluka, while the little bushman spent most of his
time getting out of the way of the missus whenever she appeared on his
horizon.

"A Tam-o-Shanter fleeing from the furies of a too fertile imagination,"
the Maluka laughed after a particularly comical dash to cover.

Poor Tam! Those days must live in his memory like a hideous nightmare!
I, of course, knew nothing of the edict at the time--for bushmen do not
advertise their chivalry--and wandered round the straggling Settlement
vaguely surprised at its sobriety, and turning up in such unexpected
places that the little bushman was constantly on the verge of apoplexy.

But experience teaches quickly. On the first day, after running into me
several times, he learned the wisdom of spying out the land before
turning a corner. On the second day, after we had come on him while thus
engaged several other times, he learned the foolishness of placing too
much confidence in corners, and deciding by the law of averages that the
bar was the only safe place in the Settlement, availed himself of its
sanctuary in times of danger. On the third day he learned that the law of
averages is a weak reed to lean on; for on slipping round a corner, and
mistaking a warning signal from the Wag, he whisked into the bar to whisk