He had none when he came down again; I have no horse here,
but I borrowed one from a man who came up one day from down below, and
rode to a place where I found what I am sure were the ashes of the last
fire he made, but I could find neither the blanket nor the billy and
pannikin he took away with him. He said he supposed he must have left
the things there, but he could remember nothing about it."
"I am afraid," said I, "that I cannot help you."
"At any rate," continued the shepherd, "I did not have my ride for
nothing, for as I was coming back I found this rug half covered with sand
on the river-bed."
As he spoke he pointed to an excellent warm rug, on the spare bunk in his
hut. "It is none of our make," said he; "I suppose some foreign digger
has come over from the next river down south and got drowned, for it had
not been very long where I found it, at least I think not, for it was not
much fly-blown, and no one had passed here to go up the river since your
father."
I knew what it was, but I held my tongue beyond saying that the rug was a
very good one.
The next day, December 4, was lovely, after a night that had been clear
and cold, with frost towards early morning. When the shepherd had gone
for some three hours in the forenoon to see his sheep (that were now
lambing), I walked down to the place where I had left my knapsack, and
carried it a good mile above the hut, where I again hid it.
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