'I first met him in the main street of Bourke. I was lonely, and somewhat
frightened and home sick, and he was alone pacing the footpath up one side
and down the other. I watched him for a while, he seemed different to all the
others, busy tradesmen or bush town loafer[s]: and after following the full
length of the square I met him as he turned to retrace his steps. I said ‘Good
day mate’ and he looked up suddenly and had in his face the look of one who
was embarrassed at being caught day dreaming. After a searching look at me,
he replied ‘Hello have you been shanghaied too?’ and chuckled softly. I guessed
that it was my untanned skin, heavy winter clothing, and light laced up boots,
that gave him his cue. After I had explained to him that I was looking for a job
and that I had little or no money he said [‘]There are a couple of us camped in
a place just across the billabong [,] there’s room for you if you care to come.[’] I
did care to go, and that was the friendship that lasted a life time – As we were
passing a grocery store I went in and bought some tinned food and half a loaf
of bread. I was half afraid that he would have disappeared, but as I came out he
was waiting. In front of an old fashioned looking pub he halted for a second,
and said casually, ‘Do you shicker[?]’ And when I replied in the negative, he
again chuckled softly and said ‘Nor do I.’ The house was the smallest to have
three rooms that I have ever seen, but it was well built, with stone and open
fireplace, firewood seemed to be a problem and as we entered a tall blonde
Norse or Swede was stoking the fire with a cows shinbone and dry cow dung. (Introduction)
