“I thought you could use some more water in this wretched heat,” she said as she placed the bucket at her father’s feet.

            “Thanks.  I didn’t have much left in the canteen.  I could use more.”

            “If you can stop before long there’s lunch waiting for you at the house.”

            “It won’t be much longer,” Bryce assured.  “I need something to stop the growling in my stomach.

            Bryce lifted the ladle and drank all its contents.  He took one last sip, rolled it around in his mouth and spat it into the dust.  Patsy gave him a disapproving look as she picked up the bucket once again.

            “Your food will be there for you when you get ready,” she said as she turned and headed back to the house.

            Bryce watched Patsy as she returned to the house.  He was proud of her.  On her own, she had stepped into her mother’s roll with the cooking and cleaning.  That was not what he wanted for her.  She deserved better than what the bush of Australia could offer her.  She was growing up into a young woman.  She needed the company of other girls she could relate to.  Also, before long, she would be looking for the attention of young men as her potential suitors.  For all that to happen, he might be forced to sell the station and move into Droonghalla.  The town was beginning to grow.  The money he could get from selling the station would enable him to open his own place there.  He would look into it further.  Right now, he had to finish clearing the brush away from the creek.

            Motion in the distance caught Bryce’s eye.  He scanned the horizon and saw a long cloud of dust slowly grow larger and larger as it grew closer.  It was no cloud stirred by the wind.  Those were suddenly blown into the air and were quickly gone.  This cloud was continual.  Bryce did not have to guess its source.  It was a company of mounted British redcoats on their way back down to Broken Hill to the garrison there.  Bryce hoped it was Major Winterson in the lead.  If so they would stop by the station, rest for a few minutes and water the horses.  Winterson seemed to be one of the few British officers he had met leading a company out on patrol into the Outback who had a friendly way about him.  Too many others seemed content to order him around as though he was one of the men.  He was a mere colonial in their minds.  Winterson talked to him as an equal.  He understood his job was made simpler by being on good terms with the station owners in his jurisdiction.  If it was him Bryce would welcome the break.