“Oh, you’ll come back to caring, I should think: for the sake of having something to care about. That’s what most of them do. They want to turn bushrangers for six months, and then they get frightened of themselves, and come back and want to be good citizens.” “Bushranger? But Australia’s like an open door with the blue beyond. You just walk out of the world and into Australia. And it’s just somewhere else. All those nations left behind in their schoolrooms, fussing. Let them fuss. This is Australia, where one can’t care.” Jaz sat rather pale, and ten times more silent than ever. “I expect you’ve got yourself to reckon with, no matter where you are. That’s why most Australians have to fuss about something--politics, or horse-racing, or football. Though a man can go empty in Australia, if he likes: as you’ve said yourself,” replied he. “Then I’ll go empty,” said Richard. “What makes _you_ fuss with Kangaroo and Struthers, Jaz?” “Me?” The smile was slow and pale. “Go into the middle of Australia and see how empty it is. You can’t face emptiness long. You have to come back and do something to keep from being frightened at your own emptiness, and everything else’s emptiness. It may be empty. But it’s wicked, and it’ll kill you if it can. Something comes out of the emptiness, to kill you. You have to come back and do things with mankind, to forget.” “It’s wonderful to be empty. It’s wonderful to feel this blue globe of emptiness of the Australian air. It shuts everything out,” protested Richard. “You’ll be an Aussie yet,” smiled Jaz slowly. “Shall I regret it?” asked Richard. The eyes of the two men met. In the pale grey eyes of Jaz something lurking, like an old, experienced consciousness looking across at the childish consciousness of Somers, almost compassionately: and half in mockery. “You’ll change back before you regret it,” he said. “Are you wise, Jaz? And am I childish?” Richard’s look suddenly changed also to mockery. “If you’re wise, Jaz, why do you wander round like a lost soul? Because you do. And what takes you to Struthers, if you belong to Kangaroo?” “I’m secretary for the coal- and timber-merchants’ union,” said Jaz quietly.