Camps out at night anywhere she can get water, and gets her own grub--lizards and young birds, and things like that.

There ain't her equal as a horse-hunter in Australia.

Maggie ain't a bad gin after horses, but if she don't find 'em first day, she won't camp out--she gets frightened.

I'd like to take 'em with me, yer know." As he spoke the two moleskin-trousered, cotton-shirted little figures passed in front of the hut.

"There they go," he said.