Of his meaning I had no conception.  How could I?  All I could feel sure of was, that he had a meaning which was true and awful to himself.  It was enough for me that I believed him to have given me the best he had and all he had.  This kindled my imagination more than if he had told me intelligible stories by the hour together.  I knew not what the great snowy ranges might conceal, but I could no longer doubt that it would be something well worth discovering.

I kept aloof from Chowbok for the next few days, and showed no desire to question him further; when I spoke to him I called him Kahabuka, which gratified him greatly:  he seemed to have become afraid of me, and acted as one who was in my power.  Having therefore made up my mind that I would begin exploring as soon as shearing was over, I thought it would be a good thing to take Chowbok with me; so I told him that I meant going to the nearer ranges for a few days’ prospecting, and that he was to come too.  I made him promises of nightly grog, and held out the chances of finding gold.  I said nothing about the main range, for I knew it would frighten him.  I would get him as far up our own river as I could, and trace it if possible to its source.  I would then either go on by myself, if I felt my courage equal to the attempt, or return with Chowbok.  So, as soon as ever shearing was over and the wool sent off, I asked leave of absence, and obtained it.  Also, I bought an old pack-horse and pack-saddle, so that I might take plenty of provisions, and blankets, and a small tent.  I was to ride and find fords over the river; Chowbok was to follow and lead the pack-horse, which would also carry him over the fords.  My master let me have tea and sugar, ship’s biscuits, tobacco, and salt mutton, with two or three bottles of good brandy; for, as the wool was now sent down, abundance of provisions would come up with the empty drays.

Everything being now ready, all the hands on the station turned out to see us off, and we started on our journey, not very long after the summer solstice of 1870.

CHAPTER III:  UP THE RIVER

The first day we had an easy time, following up the great flats by the river side, which had already been twice burned, so that there was no dense undergrowth to check us, though the ground was often rough, and we had to go a good deal upon the river-bed.  Towards nightfall we had made a matter of some five-and-twenty miles, and camped at the point where the river entered upon the gorge.

The weather was delightfully warm, considering that the valley in which we were encamped must have been at least two thousand feet above the level of the sea.  The river-bed was here about a mile and a half broad and entirely covered with shingle over which the river ran in many winding channels, looking, when seen from above, like a tangled skein of ribbon, and glistening in the sun.  We knew that it was