‘I am just bound on that errand,’ he answered, ‘though I cannot tell how you arrived at the fact.’ ‘Well, I didn’t suppose you were going as a shepherd, or a stockman, or a knock-about man,’ said the stranger carelessly, ‘so you must have been going to learn the ways of the country.’ ‘Do you know Mr. Jedwood?’ inquired Ernest. ‘Yes; heard of him. That’s a good manager; sharp hand; teach you all about stock; make you work while you’re there, I expect.’ ‘I don’t mind that; I didn’t come up into the bush for anything else. It’s not exactly the place one would pick for choice for lounging in, is it?’ ‘I don’t know about that. I’m never contented anywhere else,’ said the unknown. ‘And I suppose you’re looking out for an overseer’s situation,’ inquired Ernest, exercising his right of cross-examination in turn. He thought by the stranger’s economical ideas that he could only be upon his promotion, and not yet arrived at the enviable and lucrative position of ‘super,’ as he had heard the appointment called. The stranger smiled faintly in his own grave and reflective fashion, and then, leaning on one elbow and pulling up a tuft of _Anthistiria australis_, which he chewed meditatively, said, ‘Well, I have jobs of overseeing now and then.’ ‘And you expect to save enough money some day,’ demanded Ernest, rather elated by the success of his hit, ‘I shouldn’t wonder, to go into a small station, or leave off work altogether?’ ‘Some of these days—some of these days,’ repeated the stranger, staring absently before him, ‘I expect to have what I call enough. But you can’t be sure of anything.’ ‘In the meanwhile you save all you can,’ laughed Ernest. ‘It’s no laughing matter,’ said the stranger; ‘if you don’t save you waste your money, if you waste your money you get into debt, if you get into debt you get so close to ruin that any day he may put his paw down and crush you or lame you for life.’ ‘That’s a solemn view to take of a little debt,’ said Ernest, ‘but you are right on the whole; and when I come into a station of my own I will be awfully saving.’ ‘That’s right; you can’t go wrong if you act up to that. Now, see here, we’re about fifteen miles from Nubba.’ Here the stranger raised himself from his recumbent position, exhibiting to Ernest a tall, well-made, sinewy frame, with a keen handsome visage half covered with a bushy brown beard. The eyes were perhaps the most remarkable feature in the face; they were moderate in size, but wonderfully clear and piercing. There was the rare look of absolute unbroken health about the man’s whole figure which one sees chiefly in children and very young persons. ‘I’ve a second horse and saddle,’ continued the tall stranger; ‘I generally take a couple when I’m travelling, they’re company for one another, and for me too. So if you are going by Nubba, just you ride this roan horse, and we’ll jog on together.’