Page:The romance of Runnibede (IA romanceofrunnibe00rudd).pdf/56

about bareback, and with a greenhide bridle that they make themselves to guide the moke with. But that kind of gear wouldn't have suited us.

"You can give yours a drink if you like," Ted said in a worldly-wise sort of way, as he shoved the saddle on Wallaroo, "but I won't give mine. It makes them too full, and gives them gripes after a gallop."

So instead of carrying water to them from the tank, we tightened the girths, then got into the saddles to build castles in the air and rest ourselves. It was much more comfortable lolloping in our saddles than sitting on the floor of the stall besides, there was something romantic about it. Indeed, we were so contented with ourselves that we dozed into slumber and lay there with our cheeks on the animals' withers and our arms around their necks.

"Jim and Ted!"

It was the voice of Dorothy; and it woke us up. "School's gone in. The teachers's waiting for you. She sent me to tell you. You'll get it!"

"Been in how long, Dorothy?" we asked, scrambling to adjust the bridles, and in dread lest we had slumbered for hours, and missed the mob at Curlew Lagoon.

"Ever so long." And Dorothy ran back to school.

Then down dropped the rails, and away flew Ted and I, rattling down the dusty track, hands, heels and heads working as we raced for Curlew Lagoon. Pulled up in a few short strides at the home paddock gate; threw it open; closed it, and off again. Half a mile down we overtook old Harry on the water-cart,