Page 149 - A Little Bush Maid

THE CTRCUS

The days went by, but no further word of the Winfield murderer came to

the anxious ears of the little girl at Billabong homestead. Norah never read
the papers, and could not therefore satisfy her mind by their reports; but all

her inquiries were met by the same reply, "Nothing fresh." The police were
still in the district--so much she knew, for she had caught glimpses of them
when out riding with her father. The stern-looking men in dusty uniforms

were unusual figures in those quiet parts. But Norah could not manage to
discover if they had searched the scrub that hid the Hermit’s simple camp;

and the mystery of the Winfield murder seemed as far from being cleared
up as ever.

Meanwhile there was plenty to distract her mind from such disquieting
matters. The station work happened to be particularly engrossing just then,

and day after day saw Norah in the saddle, close to her father’s big black
mare, riding over hills and plains, bringing up the slow sheep or galloping
gloriously after cattle that declined to be mustered. There were visits of

inspection to be made to the farthest portions of the run, and busy days in
the yards, when the men worked at drafting the stock, and Norah sat

perched on the high "cap" of a fence and, watching with all her eager little
soul in her eyes, wished heartily that she had been born a boy. Then there
were a couple of trips with Mr. Linton to outlying townships, and on one of

these occasions Norah had a piece of marvellous luck, for there was
actually a circus in Cunjee--a real, magnificent circus, with lions and tigers

and hyaenas, and a camel, and other beautiful animals, and, best of all, a
splendid elephant of meek and mild demeanour. Tt was the elephant that
broke up Norah’s calmness.

"Oh, Daddy!" she said. "Daddy! Oh, can’t we stay?"

Mr. Linton laughed.