CHAPTER IV
DUNMORE
By this time the winter rains had commenced to fall. The wild weather of the western coast, with fierce gales from the south-east, and driving storms of sleet, showed clearly that "the year had turned." The roads were knee-deep in mud, the creeks full, the nights long and cold. However, grass was plentiful, and
Little cared we for wind or weather,
When Youth and I lived "there" together.
So away. Vogue la galère. The dray, with Joe Burge and his wife, and Chase, the deerhound, went on ahead, while I, with Mr. Cunningham, a new companion, who had dwelt in those parts before my arrival, was to follow a day or two later with the herd.
I had made a small exploring expedition a short time before in company with an old stockman; he, for a consideration, had guided me to a tract of unoccupied country. And to this new territory our migration was now tending. This experienced stock-rider—"an old hand from the Sydney side,"
