Cannon and Vane started off in pursuit of him; but, as I had a little more experience in colonial horses, than either of my companions, I bade good-bye both to our roadster and my roll of blankets; and, stretching myself under the shade of a tree, I resolved to await their return. I did wait. One hour passed, then another, and a third; and still my companions did not come back. "I am a fool for remaining here," reflected I. "The squatters station cannot be more than five miles distant; and they have probably gone there? The herd of horses undoubtedly belongs to it; and my companions have followed them home?" Influenced by these conjectures, I once more rose to my feet; and continued the journey, that had been so unexpectedly interrupted. Volume Two, Chapter XXV. JESSIE. The path led me along the bank of a river. It was the Yarra-Yarra. As I moved onward, I began to perceive, that I had not been such a fool, after all, in having waited awhile for my companions. My long quiet reverie, in the shade of the tree, had refreshed me. I had escaped the hot sunshine; and I should now be able to reach my destination, during the cool hours of evening. I did not wish to arrive at the station before Cannon: as I should require him to introduce me. My solitary journey was altogether an agreeable one. The bright waters of the Yarra-Yarra flowed by my side, while the gentle breeze, as it came softly sighing through the peppermint-trees, fanned my brow. After advancing, as I supposed, a distance of about four miles--hearing only the cries of the screaming cockatoo, and the horribly human voice of the laughing jackass--I was suddenly and agreeably surprised by the barking of a dog. The animal could not be far off; and it was also in the direction I was going--up the river. "The station cannot be distant?" thought I; and eager to catch a glimpse of it, I hastened forward. I had scarce made a step further, when I was startled by a piercing scream. It was a human voice--the voice of a woman. She who gave utterance to it must be near the spot--concealed by some wattle-bushes on the bank of the river? I rushed forward; and glided through the bushes into the open ground beyond. I perceived a young woman just on the point of leaping into the river! My abrupt appearance seemed to cause a change in her design. Suddenly turning towards me, she pointed to the water, at the same time exclaiming, "Save her! O, save her!" Looking in the direction thus indicated, I saw something like a child--a little girl--struggling on the surface of the water. Partly supported by the drapery of her dress, she was drifting down with the current. The next instant I was in the water, with the child in my arms.