Now had arisen in good sooth for Ernest Neuchamp a day of prosperity and triumph. By every post came news of that uprising of prices which Mr. Levison had foretold, in stock and stations, in horses and in cattle, in land and in houses, in corn and in labour. This last consideration, though serious enough to the owners of sheep, in the comparatively unenlightened days which preceded the grand economy of fencing runs, was not of much weight with Ernest. His adherents were tried and trusty, and neither Charley Banks nor Jack Windsor would have abandoned him for all the gold in Ballarat and all the silver in Nevada. Piambook and Boinmaroo, incurious and taking no thought for the morrow, with the characteristic childishness of their race, dreamed of no adequate motive which should sever them from the light work and regularly-dispensed tobacco of Misser Noochum. With his own assistance they were amply sufficient for all the work of the establishment, now that the ‘circle dot’ cattle, thoroughly broken to the run, had taken up regular beats, and divided themselves by consent into mobs or subdivisions, each with its own leader. Many a pleasant ride had Ernest now that all things ‘had suffered,’ not ‘a sea-change,’ but none the less an astounding metamorphosis, into ‘something rich and strange.’ Daily he made long-disused excursions into the mysterious, half-unknown land of ‘the Back,’ only to find, after each fresh day’s exploring, richer pasture, fuller watercourses, stronger, more frolicsome cattle. These last had grown and thriven on the over-abundant pasture, ‘out of knowledge,’ as Charley Banks averred. Again were the old triumphs and glories of a cattle-station re-enacted. Again he saw the heavy rolling droves of bullocks come panting and teeming into camp. Again he witnessed the reckless speed and practised wheel of the trained stock horses. All things, indeed, were changed. Charley Banks was never tired of sounding the praises of the glorious season, and of the splendid fattening qualities of Rainbar, with its extraordinary variety of plant-wealth, herbs, grasses, saltbushes, clovers, every green thing, from wild carrots to crowsfoot, which the heart of man, devoted to the welfare of his herd, could desire. ‘I never saw anything like those “circle dot” cattle for laying it on,‘ he would say. ‘They’re as big again as they were. And those crawlers of Freemans’—they’ll pay out and out. We’ve branded as many calves from ’em as will come to half the purchase money, at present prices. It will soon be time to move the fat cattle; in another month or two Rainbar will be full of ’em.’