Were you travelling with them, sir ?" "No, I'm after some cattle I've lost; a fine imported bull, too,--worse luck! We'll never see him again, I'm afraid, and if I do find them how I am to get them home single handed, I don't know." "Do you mean, a short-horned Durham bull with a key brand?
Why, if that's him, I can lay you on to him at once; he's up at Jamieson's, here to the west.

I was staying at Watson's last night, and one of Jamieson's men staid in the hut--a young hand; and, talking about beasts, he said that there was a fine short-horned bull come on to their run with a mob of heifers and cows, and they couldn't make out who they belonged to; they were all different brands." "That's our lot for a thousand," says I; "a lot of store cattle we bought this year from the Hunter, and haven't branded yet,--more shame to us." "If you could get a horse and saddle from Jamieson's, sir," said he, "I could give you a hand home with them: I'd like to get a job somehow, and I'm well used to cattle." "Done with you," said I; "Jamieson's isn't ten miles from here, and we can do that to-night if we look sharp.

Come along, my lad." So I caught up the horse, and away we went.

Starting at right angles with the sun, which was nearly overhead, and keeping to the left of him holding such a course, as he got lower, that an hour and half, or thereabouts, before setting he should be in my face, and at sundown a little to the left;--the best direction I can give you for going about due west in November, without a compass--which, by the way, you always ought to have.
My companion was foot-sore, so I went slowly; he, however, shambled along bravely when his feet got warm.

He was a talkative, lively man, and chattered continually.
"You've got a nice place up at the Durnongs, sir," said he; "I stayed in your huts one night.