Wherever he'd been once, there he could take you to again; and what was more, if it was in the dead of the night he could do it just the same.

People said he was as good as a blackfellow, but I never saw one that was as good as he was, all round.

In a strange country, too.

That was what beat me--he'd know the way the creek run, and noticed when the cattle headed to camp, and a lot of things that other people couldn't see, or if they did, couldn't remember again.

He was a great man for solitary walks, too--he and an old dog he had, called Crib, a cross-bred mongrel-looking brute, most like what they call a lurcher in England, father said.