The stars had scarcely left the sky.

There was a lot of groping and stumbling about the room.

Dad and Dave had risen and were preparing to go to the sale.
I don't remember if the sky was golden or gorgeous at all, or if the mountain was clothed in mist, or if any fragrance came from the wattle-trees when they were leaving; but Johnson, without hat or boots, was picking splinters off the slabs of his hut to start his fire with, and a mile further on Smith's dog was barking furiously.

He was a famous barker.

Smith trained him to it to keep the wallabies off.
Smith used to chain him to a tree in the paddock and hang a piece of meat to the branches, and leave him there all night.
Dad and Dave rode steadily along and arrived at Eastbrook before mid-day.