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Actually, a pair of gum-leaves. Unlike a European campfire, there was no alcohol, no one got drunk. And I’m certain we were all asleep well before midnight.In the morning, I saw that the rest of the carcass had been cooking on the hot ashes. I made myself a billy of tea with several women of various ages watching a European “doing” for himself. Later, I would make brownie.But first I read further in Sturt.As we crossed the plains we again observed numerous cattle tracks, and regularly beaten paths leading from the brushes to the river, to the very point indeed where we encamped. The natives had previously informed us, as far back as the place where we shot the first bullock, that we should fall in with other cattle hereabouts; we did not however see any of them during the day. Our tents were pitched on the narrow neck of land leading to an enclosure into which we had turned our animals. It was so narrow indeed that nothing could pass either in or out of it without being observed by. I mean tomorrow isn't promised to anyone. So why not try new things while we have the chance now?” I said, and we were quiet for about half an hour and she would take long looks at me during this time. I decided to break the silence. “So tell me about yourself.” “Sure. But only on one condition,” she said in a flat tone. “What’s that?” I asked quizzically. “You have to answer the same questions and any others I might ask,” she said with a sly grin and slumped back against the door a little. “Fair enough. What’s your name?” I asked as we cross a small bridge. She silently took in a sharp intake of breath and I started noticing some movement on the seat next to me. I didn't turn to look so I assumed it was her wiggling her foot. “Sam, and what’s yours, Mister? Nobody rides for free?” she responded. I could see that the movement continued from the corner of my eye but I focused on the road. “Brandon. It’s nice to meet you, Sam,” I said as politely as I could, though I was embarrassed.
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