* * * * *
And so at last they came to the land of "the straddle-bug"--the
squatters' watch dog--three boards nailed together (like a stack of army
muskets) to mark a claim. Burke resembled a man taking his first
sea-voyage. His eyes searched the plain restlessly, and his brain
dreamed. Bailey, an old settler--of two years' experience--whistled and
sang and shouted lustily to his tired beasts.
It drew toward noon. Bailey's clear voice shouted back, "When we reach
that swell we'll see the Western Coteaux." The Western Coteaux! To
Burke, the man from Illinois, this was like discovering a new range of
mountains.
"There they rise," Bailey called, a little later.
Burke looked away to the west. Low down on the horizon lay a long, blue
bank, hardly more substantial than a line of cloud. "How far off are
they?" he asked, in awe.
"About twenty-five miles. Our claims are just about in line with that
gap." Bailey pointed with his whip. "And about twelve miles from here.
We're on the unsurveyed land now.
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