The Last G

old Diggers

978-1-56145-435-8 $12.95

HARRY HORSE was the

author-illustrator of

many books for children,

including THE LAST POLAR

BEARS. He was also a

political cartoonist for

several national news -

papers in the United

Kingdom. He died in

2007.

Printed and manufactured in the United States of America

Ha

rr

y H

or

se

Early reader fictionwww.peachtree-online.com

ISBN 13: 978-1-56145-435-8ISBN 10: 1-56145-435-4

Grandfather is off on an expedition to

Australia to find long-lost Great-Uncle

Vincent, who ran away to seek his fortune

years ago. Accompanying him is Roo, a

remarkable little dog with strong views

and a short attention span—and a golf

cart full of equipment. Roo is worried

about being upside down, but that turns

out to be the least of their problems.

Will they survive blistering heat, a

recalcitrant camel, and hordes of disrep-

utable kangaroos? Can the easily dis -

tracted Roo ever be trained to be a tracker

dog, especially when she won’t get out of

bed in the morning? And what will they

find when they reach the Gold Field, last

known home of Uncle Vincent?

By the time you read this letter, Roo and Iwill be on a plane to Australia.

I had to leave the house in the middle ofthe night as I knew that your mother andfather were against the idea of me going onthis trip at all. When I first told them of myintention to go to Australia, anyone wouldhave thought I was going to the other side ofthe world, the fuss they made. I am afraid Ihad to creep out of the house like a mouse,being careful not to wake any of you. Roonearly gave the game away though. She started barking at a reflection of herself in thehallway mirror. I had to zip her up in the golfbag to keep the noise down.

I am going to Australia to find my brother, your Great-Uncle Vincent…

For Mandy and Roo

Published by PEACHTREE PUBLISHERS1700 Chattahoochee AvenueAtlanta, Georgia 30318-2112www.peachtree-online.com

Text and illustrations © 1998 by Harry Horse

First published in Great Britain in 1998 by Penguin BooksFirst United States edition published in 2008 by Peachtree Publishers

Book design and composition by Melanie McMahon Ives

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in aretrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechan-ical, photocopy, recording, or any other—except for brief quotations in printedreviews, without the prior permission of the publisher.

Printed in 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 First Edition

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

written and illustrated byHarry Horse

Being as it were, an

Account of a Small

Dog’s Adventures,

Down Under

1

25 November

I am writing to let you know that Roo and Iare safe. By the time you read this letter, wewill be on a plane to Australia.

I am sorry that we couldn’t say good-bye to you, but I had to leave the house inthe middle of the night as I knew that yourmother and father were against the idea ofme going on this trip at all. When I first toldthem of my intention to go to Australia,anyone would have thought I was going tothe other side of the world, the fuss theymade. I am afraid I had to creep out of thehouse like a mouse, being careful not to

wake any of you. I may be seventy-nine, butI can still creep out of a house without wak-ing anyone. Roo nearly gave the game awaythough. She started barking at a reflection ofherself in the hallway mirror. I had to zip herup in the golf bag to keep the noise down.

I am going to Australia to find my brother,your Great-Uncle Vincent. He’s the oldest ofmy five brothers. When he was seventeen,he stowed away aboard a ship and went toAustralia.

We were terribly upset when Vincent ranaway, and my father called the Home Office,but there was nothing to be done. All he leftus was a note:

Cheerio Gone to get gold in Australia. When I

find some, I will bring it back. Regards,Vincent

2

(it said),

For many months we heard no otherword from him, and then one Christmas hesent us a parcel containing unusual thingshe had found in Australia (an ostrich egg, aboomerang, a dried-up witchetty grub, andsome quills from a spiny anteater), with aletter explaining that he was now a goldminer and had his own mine in Dust Valley.Although he hadn’t found any gold, hisprospects looked good. He wrote us everymonth, no matter where he was, until overthe years I had collected hundreds of post-cards. He told us how he had lived withAborigines in a cave; how he had ridden adonkey all the way across a terrible desertand had ended up carrying it most of theway on his back; and how he had foughtwith a shark off the Great Barrier Reef. Buthe had never found any gold.

Then suddenly, the postcards stoppedarriving. Had something terrible happenedto him?

3

Here is one of the last cards I receivedfrom your Great-Uncle Vincent. On the frontit shows a picture of a kangaroo in a hat, andat the bottom it says, “G’day, Mate” in largefriendly letters.

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It worried me to read this postcard, Child.My brother is eighty-four. He shouldn’t befighting crocodiles at his age. I decided thenthat I would go to Australia and bring himhome. I knew it would not be easy to findhim. Australia is a big place, and most of itis wild bush country and unexplored regions.I hoped that I was not too late to find him.

I went to the library and read all I couldabout Australia—whereit is, what it lookslike, and what typeof animals livethere. I couldn’tfind much aboutDust Valley and Icouldn’t find theSnakey River atall.

I booked a flight on Quality Airlines, as itwas the cheapest I could find and also the

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only one that allowed dogs. You see, Child,I’m afraid I had to bring Roo along with meto Australia. Of course the ideal would be aproper tracker dog, but I couldn’t afford one

of those, so Roo will haveto do. She says her par-

ticular breed is excep-tionally good on sandbecause it has specialpaws that stop it slip-

ping on the steepbits. I’m sure that atsome point in theexpedition this will

prove to be useful.We left the house while you lay sleeping.

I did look in on you, Child, but you werefast asleep, upside down in the bed. I couldhear Uncle Freddie snoring peacefully inthe next room. Please tell him that I haveborrowed his new golf trolley. We neededsomething to drag our equipment along inand there wasn’t anything else. It’s not my

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fault his old golf trolley was eaten by wolvesat the North Pole, where Roo and I went tosearch for the last polar bears. That was atragic accident and couldn’t be helped.Assure Uncle Freddie that we will look afterthe trolley very carefully this time. He hasmy word on it.

Don’t worry about us, Child. We have myold scout’s compass. We won’t get lost.

Roo has told me that you can look afterher bone. It is behind the sofa, underneathher blanket. I have brought her basket withus, so do not look for it.

Send my love to your mother and tell herthat I’m very sorry, but I had to go. We willfind Uncle Vincent and bring him home. Imiss him.

7

26 NovemberOn board the Unflappable

We are flying, as I write this letter to you,high above the Atlantic Ocean. The pilot hasjust announced over the loudspeaker that

we are flying at a thousandfeet, which must be very

high, although I am surethat I saw the top of atree out of my windowa little while ago. Still, Iam sure that we are in

safe hands. The captainis a very helpful chap and

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even came out of the cockpit to serve us tea,because the flight attendant had a touch ofair sickness and wasn’t feeling very well.

Roo has been a real nuisance, I’m afraid.I am sure that dogs are very able at all sortsof things, but flying is not one of them. Sheis too fidgety and won’t sit back and enjoythe sensation of being in the air. First of allshe stared at the people sitting behind us,standing up in her seat, with her paws overthe headrest, watching them eat their sand-wiches. Then she became very restless and

9

began wandering up and down the aisle ofthe plane, sniffing people’s feet. Later shestarted to roam the plane with three littlechildren, crawling under seats and playinghide-and-seek. I am afraid she thinks weare in a bus, and I have given up trying toexplain why she can’t see any houses out ofthe window.

In the end I’m afraid I had to give her agood telling-off. She slunk away and satbeneath a woman in the third row—later shesat in her lap and ate most of her dinner.When I tried to coax Roo back, she becamevery silly and pretended not to hear my callsand instead went off and chased a child’sball up and down the aisle of the plane.

The flight attendant, Brenda, got veryannoyed and said that Roo must be kepton a lead always, particularly when theplane was taking off and landing. Brendathen demonstrated the safety procedurefor us, inflating an old orange lifejacket,

10

which she put on me! Then shethrew a blanket over us both andtold us to go to sleep.

I must say that this plane is not quitewhat I expected, though I knew that thingswere a bit on the cheap side when we wereasked to walk a couple of miles to get onthe wretched thing. The plane was standingbehind an old disused shed by the runway.It sagged in the middle. As we were board-ing the plane up an old ladder, I noticed adirty looking fellow shoveling coal into abucket.

The interior of the plane is not what Iexpected either. For a start, there is not agreat deal of room. The people in the row ofseats next to ours have to keep their suit-cases on their laps, as there is no room

in the baggage compartments. Theseats are not comfortable either.

Mine is an old armchair nailed to thefloor, and Roo’s is the driver’s seat out

11

of an old car. The windows are not the nor-mal sort that you would expect to see in aplane—the one we are seated next to looksas if it came out of a potting shed. It is alsovery hard to go to sleep. The plane makes afearful sound, more like an old steam trainthan a plane, and sometimes it shakes vio-lently. This afternoon one of the wings beganto wobble, until the pilot came and tightenedsome bolts under my feet and told me tokeep an eye on them.

Roo is worried about being upside downin Australia. Tried to explain to her that,although Australia is beneath us, the peoplewho live there do not live on their heads.She said her grandfather went there to be a sheep dog on a farm, and he got used towalking upside down, so much so, in fact,that he even preferred it to being the rightway up.

I tried to get to sleep, but Roo kept fidg-eting about so much it was impossible. She

12

said she felt hot and wanted to go outsidefor a bit. I tried to explain that we were high,high up in the sky, but she said maybe wecould just have a little walk up and downthe wing of the plane. No one would mind.I told her that if she stood on the wing shewould fall off and I would mind.

Instead, I showed her clouds to take hermind off being in the plane, and we saw onesshaped like huge islands, with mountainsand pink lakes. Some were shaped like ani-mals, and Roo said she saw one shaped likea small sheep in a field of snow.

The sun was going down on our side ofthe world and we were flyingaround to the other side,chasing after it, to see itrise above Australia. Theclouds swallowed us upand led us into the night.We settled down for theevening. Then Brendagave everyone a mug of

13

weak tea, turned the lights off, and told usto watch the film.

The film was called The Ghost of FlightThirteen and was all about a plane that getshaunted by the ghost of a crazed pilot whostill wants to fly. The special effects weremarvelous, particularly the bit where theplane flies upside down doing loop-the-loops. Most of the passengers jump out ofthe plane on parachutes, with the exceptionof Rock Hunter, the hero, who ends upfighting with the ghost on the wing, beforecrawling back into the plane and saving itfrom crashing into a mountain. Then hegets married to the flight attendant and fliesaway with her in a hot air balloon. I fellasleep just as the balloon was attacked byducks.

I thought it a strange choice of film toshow on a plane, but Roo said that it wasone of the best films she had ever seen, andshe wished we were in a plane. I did not feellike explaining it again.

14

After the film, Brenda brought us somemore tea, but said that milk, sugar, andbiscuits were now off the menu until furthernotice. Some of the passengers becamequite angry at this and demanded anexplanation. Eventually the pilot came outand told them, quite rudely, to keep thenoise down.

15

It is very cold, Child.Several of the passengers are wearing all

their holiday clothes at the same time. For-tunately I brought most of my winter clotheswith me.

Too cold to write anymore, as it is difficultin these mittens.

Brenda has just walked past with anotherbucket of coal. I have never seen coal on aplane before. Perhaps the pilot has a fire-place in his cockpit.

Will write more when we land in Sydney,Australia.

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17

28 NovemberOn board the Unflyable

Roo keeps asking me when we will land inAustralia, and I have to keep telling her notyet, but soon. She is very bored with theflight and wanders up and down the aislelooking for mice. I have told her that thereare no mice on planes, but she is insistentthat she has heard them scratching.

When the pilot came down to our end ofthe plane to have a cup of tea, Roo askedhim if she could have a go at steering theplane. The pilot said no. It is true that onceRoo did steer a ship. It is also true that wecame to no real harm that time, but theidea of her steering a plane is a dreadfulone. I was relieved when the pilot refused,and I thanked him for being so sensible. Heexplained that the plane was only ever

flown by him, Brenda, and occasionally hispet monkey, Noddy. Nobody else.

The journey is taking a long time. I wastold at the airport that this flight normallytook twenty-four hours, but we have beenflying for a few days now. I have used thetime to read more about Australia so that wewill be prepared when we enter the outback.Some extremely interesting creatures livethere. I would particularly like to see theduckbill platypus, and perhaps the wombat,

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19

and of course I look forward to seeing thekangaroos. I have told Roo about all thesecreatures, but I decided not to mention someof the more dangerous animals found inAustralia.

Hopefully we won’t run into thefunnel-web spider, whose bite isfatal, I am told, and we will try not to stepon the tiger snake, the most poisonous

snake in the world. But if we do wewill be as polite as possible, then

run away as fast as we can.Using a map, with all the telegrams and

postcards that Uncle Vincent has sent overthe years, I began to trace his last route insearch of gold in Dust Valley. He had pad-dled up the Snakey River in a canoe, thentrekked by camel to the camp at GoldTown, and finally walked on foot, with hisdonkey, through Dust Valley.

Here is one of the last cards he sent:

This worries me. Your Uncle Vincentshouldn’t be fighting snakes at his age, letalone having to carry sick donkeys around.When I find him I will bring him back toEngland so that he can spend the rest of hislife in comfort.

20

Finished planning our route and explainedto Roo her role in our mission. It is my inten-tion to harness her to the golf trolley so thatshe can drag it up the steep bits. We willbegin our expedition by advancing up theSnakey River and heading for Gold Town. Ithink we may even hire a canoe. I have beenin the rowing boats at the park, and I’m surethat it can’t be too different in a canoe. I knowI will have to keep Roo on a lead in case shejumps out.

Do not worry about us, Child. I am surethat we will land safely in Australia in notime.

Take care,

P.S. Hurrah! The pilot has just announcedthat we are only several hours away fromSydney Airport. Loud cheer from all the pas-sengers, and some hissing and booing aswell. Cannot wait to get off this plane!

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22

29 NovemberOn board the Unforgettable

Kwinkwat Airport

We have not landed in Australia. This is be-cause the winds were too strong and conse-quently we were blown backwards most ofthe night. Brenda gave us breakfast andthen we landed on a small coral island tostock up with more coal, bread rolls, andmilk.

We all crammed to the window aisles tosee where we had landed, and some of the

passengers began to drag their suitcasesout and change into their swimming cos-tumes when they saw what lay outside.

It looked like a beautiful place, with apure white coral beach shaded by swayingpalm trees and a charming blue bay. Someof the passengers asked where they couldbuy souvenirs and take tea and cake, butBrenda was insistent that nobody should getoff the plane. She said it was best for oursafety, unless we wanted to help load coal.There was a mad charge for the exits as allthe passengers squeezed out of the planeand trooped into the coal shed. It was won-derful to stretch, and Roo ran round andround in circles on the runway until Brendatold her off.

I now find out that this plane is the onlysteam-powered plane in the whole world.The stoker has to work almost non-stop tokeep the boiler fed with coal, and althoughthe plane does fly, the weight of the coal

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needed to keep it going means that wecan’t go very fast.

Brenda and the pilot watched us load onthe extra coal. The first time we took off wehad to return after five minutes, as we hadleft an old lady behind in the coal shed. Shewas very upset, and Brenda had to give hera complete dusting down.

Our steam-powered plane managed toget “above the wind,” as the pilot termed it,before we had the first of many problems.Apparently, the pilot explained, some of ushad put on weight since the plane left Eng-land, and therefore we had to jettison someof the luggage to make the load lighter.Fortunately, Brenda didn’t pull my stuff outof the hold, but there were some very angrypassengers who watched as she threw theirsuitcases, hampers, and holdalls out of theemergency exit into the sea below.

Can’t write much now, Child, as it is veryhard to see. The boiler is playing up, and

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25

the cabin is very smoky. Also Brenda issmoking a cigar, which I thought wasn’tallowed. The stoker came in and broke upa couple of the seats with a hatchet.

The pilot has announced that we will belanding in Sydney soon, butas he said the samething last night, therewasn’t such a loudcheer this time. Roois very excited. I toldher all about the har-bor, the bridge, andthe beautiful operahouse that Sydney is mostfamous for.

Will write soon.

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30 NovemberSidney, Australia

We have landed in the wrong Sydney. Thisis not the famous Sydney Harbor, the jewelin the Australian crown. This is the wrongSydney. Complained to Brenda and she saidit was cleared marked in the brochure asSidney.

This Sidney does not have an operahouse or a harbor. All it has is a small,rusty bridge and a corrugated iron shed. Agroup of small animals met us on the run-way and asked to carry our bags. I gavemy overnight bag to a sort of raccoon-type creature, and he ran off into the bushwith it.

The man in the tourist information hutwas very helpful, but as it was the SidneyAnnual Sheep Fair, all the hostels and hotelswere full up, and the only accommodationavailable was a room in a place called theWoolly Tree Farm.

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We are going to catch a bus to our lodg-ings. I will send you more news when I havesome.

Please tell your mother that I am quitewell. I am checking my boots for spidersregularly.

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1 DecemberWoolly Tree Farm

Near the wrong Sidney

Woolly Tree Farm is not what we expected.It looks like a big shed. When we arrived, asmall man came out and looked us over.He took great interest in Roo and insistedon inspecting her teeth, then he offered mefive pounds for her on the spot. I explainedfirmly that my tracker dog was not for sale.

When I told him that we intended tomake an expedition into the outback to findmy long-lost brother, he laughed and saidhe hadn’t taken me for a bushwhacker.Taken aback by his rudeness, I informed himthat I had no intention of whacking anybushes, had never done so, and did notintend to. He explained that a bushwhackerwas a man who lived in the bush. I told himthat I didn’t…

After he had shown us our room, a sort ofbunkhouse where the sheep-shearers stay,with an old rickety camp bed and a bucket,he asked me to help him feed the sheep. Of

30

course I humored him, feeling that a refusalmight offend. Most of the time I hadn’t a cluewhat he was talking about, though I learnedthat his name was Shorty Watkins and hehad a thousand sheep and no sheepdog.

Shorty drove us out to a big field thathad no hedges or fences, so it wasn’t reallya field as we would know one. For miles ineach direction there were sheep grazing onthe tough grass. Roo ran around barking atthe sheep, which I thought ordinary dogsweren’t supposed to do as it worries the

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sheep, but Shorty seemed very pleased andupped his offer to six pounds. I did notbother to answer. After we had run the sheepround in a big circle, we retired back to thefarmyard and there Shorty cooked us a mealin a large pot.

As the sun set on the red hills, Shortytook out an old harmonica and began toplay a tune. It was a sad tune and some ofthe sheep started bleating in harmony. Roobecame rather sentimental and startedtelling a story about her grandfather, a dogwho worked for a gunfighter, a story thatimpressed Shorty but annoyed me.

Apparently in between being a pirate’sdog, a doctor, a lifeguard, and an actor,Roo’s grandfather had stowed away on aship to America and had ended up belong-ing to a gunfighter called One Eyed Jack.Roo explained that this fellow could shoot ahole clean through a penny thrown in the airwith a single shot from his pistol. The targets

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got smaller and smaller, and soon One Eye,or whatever his name was, was shooting at a flea holding a grain of rice. Then it gotrather silly. Something about Roo’s grand-father and a game of cards, and how heused to walk round the table looking at thecards of the other players, which soundedlike cheating to me, spelling out to his mas-ter the cards that they were holding byusing a tail-wagging code.A terrible argument beganwhen this despicable prac-tice was found out, andin the shoot-out thatfollowed, One Eye shotall the buttons off hisopponents’ coats and even their trouserbuttons, so that their trousers fell down.

Shorty roared with laughter at this bitand begged Roo to tell it again. This shedid, twice. Then she told him how hergrandfather had been captured by passing

Apache Indians and lived with them in thechief’s tepee.

Before she could begin the bitabout dancing with wolves, which

I have heard before and stilldon’t believe, I stood up and

announced that it was timefor bed. Roo came along

reluctantly, and we left Shorty andthe sheep by the campfire. I havemade Roo’s basket comfortable, withher eiderdown draped inside, but she

refuses to use it, saying there’sprobably a snake in it, and although

I have demonstrated with the aid of agolf club that there is no snake curled in thebasket, waiting to pounce on her, she willnot lie in it.

When we went on our journey to theNorth Pole, she didn’t sleep in her basketeither, and I had to carry the wretched thingall over the place, even up mountains. I

34

won’t carry the basket all the way acrossAustralia if she is not going to use it. Toldher so, and all she said was that she likedto have it around for sentimental reasons asit reminded her of home. Sometimes shemakes me very cross.

Roo remains in my bed.

P.S. Shorty is going to post this letter for mein Sidney. Please could you ask your mother

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to send me some shorts as I forgot to packany, and it is really hot here in Australia. Ournew address will be The Mailing Station,Gold Town.

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3 DecemberWoolly Tree FarmDelayed by heat

Unable to begin our journey as the weather istoo hot. So hot that Roo asked to sit in thefridge. This is dangerous and I wouldn’t allowit, because you can’t breathe in a fridge andyou would certainly die, so I draped her in awet towel instead and she lay panting underan old orange box on the veranda.

I went and lay on the bed and tried torest, but I couldn’t sleep. A bell bird sat rightoutside my window and chimed every halfhour.

We cannot travel in heat like this.This afternoon I tried again to explain to

Roo her role in the tracking of Uncle Vin-cent. I showed her his baby bonnet, the only

37

item of his clothing I could find in the attic,and asked her to sniff it so that she couldget Uncle Vincent’s scent. I have seen res-cue dogs on television do this. It helps givethe dog a clear picture of the person theyare trying to find.

Roo snuffled and sniffed at the bonnetfor a long time. She chewed on it and evenshook it fiercely. Suddenly she announcedthat she now had a clear picture of him,almost as if he was standing in front of her.Excited, I begged her to describe what shecould see. He was small, she said, walkedon all fours, and dribbled.

I wish now I had brought a real trackerdog.

Have decided we will advance up theSnakey River to Gold Town in a rowing boat.Shorty said he didn’t think that was a goodidea. He told me there are all sorts of nastythings in the creek. He said his father oncesailed up the creek and when he got back,

38

his hair was pure white and for a wholeweek all he could do was sit in the wood-shed and gibber. Apparently he had seensomething huge with big eyes and big teethlooking at him.

We will now walk alongside the SnakeyRiver. Explained my new plan to Shorty andagain he sighed and shook his head. Forpart-timers like us, he said, it was too dan-gerous to wander into the bush on foot.Then he stumped off behind the sheep shedand returned a moment later leading a largecamel on a rope. He said this was the onlymeans of traveling in the outback. He hasrented me the camel for five pounds, andsaid that no deposit was required as Ireminded him of an uncle who once gavehim a shilling. Then he drove us into town inhis battered old pickup truck and showed uswhat we needed in the way of provisions.We bought:

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This afternoon I packed all our provisions,including the golf trolley, onto the camel. Roohas wasted some money on a silly plasticgarden ornament, a rabbit holding a carrot.

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Will have to find room for itsomewhere.

Shorty spent about tenminutes with me, explaininghow to make the camel dothings like sit down andget up, and I think I pickedit up quite quickly. I rode a horse when Iwas younger, and even a donkey at a fair,and it can’t be too different. The camelmakes the most disgusting noises, and isalways belching. I have decided to call itAlf, though Roo thought Smelly would be abetter name.

Shorty gave me a wide-brimmed hat,called a drover’s hat, with corks on stringsto keep the flies away. He shook my handand offered me five pounds and a week’sfree lodging at his shed in exchange forRoo. I told him that Roo was not for sale,not for all the money in the world.

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I am going to send these letters now. Ofcourse I will not be able to write to youwhen I am deep inside the bush, as thereare no post offices. However, so that youcan keep track of our progress, I shall keepa journal.

We have plenty of water. Bottles of thestuff! We will be all right.

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Gold Town by Camel: A Journal

Day 1

An excellent start to our journey. What a splendididea to travel by camel. I am getting used to Alf’sunusual gait, which is nothing like a horse’s. Feltrather sick for the first few hours but feel much

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better now. However, my idea to attach Roo tothe washing line so that she can track has notworked very well. She is supposed to run along-side Alf, as Shorty showed her, but she constantlyforgets where she is going and often wanders offto look at things, causing many tangles. She willrun neither behind nor in front of him, but per-sists in running in and out of his legs, barking.Roo now rides on Alf too, as I wasted much timethis morning getting her untangled.

We stopped for lunch under a blue gum tree,and there I studied the map properly for the firsttime. I calculated that if we rode steadily for aday or two we would definitely reach Gold Town.Shorty reckoned it would take us two days, so weshould be there tomorrow evening.

Day 2

Tried to head north toward Gold Town as themap said, but it was impossible to keep to thisroute. Alf kept seeing interesting things to eatthat lay in the opposite direction, and no matter

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how much I pulled on the reins or kicked himwith my heels, he paid no attention to me untilhis hunger was satisfied.

Made camp by a delightful pool that Alf chose.As I write this now, hordes of tiny insects are land-ing on my page, attracted by the light from mylantern, and I have to sweep the pages clear everyminute to write.

We appear to be a little lost. Have not toldRoo, as I don’t want to start a panic.

Day 3

Something came into the tent last night, cheweda hole in my trousers and ate our Christmas cake.Unable to press on today, as Alf is unwell. He saidhe ate something last night and it has not agreedwith him. Very cold today. Had to put on a pairof thick woolly trousers.

Day 4

It is raining very heavily. Where has the sun gone?Alf is in a foul mood. Threatening to go what hecalls “bad camel.” I do not like the sound of thisat all. Can’t seem to make out which way we arefacing, as the compass appears to be broken. Nosign of the sun to give us our bearings. The mapis soaking wet and difficult to read in the rain. Weare lost.

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Day 5Bongshang Valley

A lot more rain last night. Had to wear hat in bedas the tent is leaking. Filled a saucepan full ofwater beneath the hole. Roo lost plastic rabbit. Ifear it has been swept away in the rain.

All around us tiny streams of water appearedfrom nowhere, and I feared we would be washedaway. The pool has risen higher. Must fix tent.

Roo said she was going home on the bridgeback to England. I had to explain that there wasno bridge and that we were on the other side ofthe world.

Though the rain pattering on the tent is acomforting sound, we do not sleep well. I seemto be lying on something very hard and lumpy,and my body feels every stone and bumpbeneath me. Roo very restless all night. Woke meup to tell me that my thick woolen trousersreminded her of an evil rabbit, with the buttonsas eyes and the trouser legs like ears. Had to getup and refold them, and when I had eventually

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got back into bed, with wet socks, she said thatnow they looked like a crocodile. Told her not tolook at my trousers and to go to sleep.

Wish that Roo would sleep in her basket like anormal dog. Every time we pitch the tent sheinsists on dragging it inside, but then chooses tosleep in my sleeping bag instead. Each time I putthe basket outside she brings it back in again.There is little room enough in this tent. It is a“one-man tent,” not a “one-man-and-his-dog-with-a-basket tent.”

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Day 6Loud Belly Gorge

At last the rain has stopped.Cooked large breakfast for Roo and me, and

fed Alf some of the hay. Alf seemed a lot better thismorning, though his temper has not improved.Packed all the equipment on his back. It seemedlighter. I filled our empty water bottles at the pool.

We set off early in the morning. I was unable toride on Alf, as he wouldn’t kneel down to let meon. He said he had a sore hump. He and Roo donot get on well. Their constant bickering depressesme. It’s always the same argument—who’s thebest, dogs or camels? Alf says that camels can storewater in their humps and can live off their ownsupply of fat. Roo says that dogs live in houses andget fed and don’t need to store fat. Alf says thatcamels have special eyelashes to keep the sand outof their eyes. Roo says that dogs just shut their eyesand use their noses. And on and on, all day.

It feels very lonely out here in the bush. Ofcourse Roo is good company, and so is Alf in a

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way, but I wish I had the company of humansoccasionally. Pitched tent beside a small streamwhere the ground was flat and soft. Gave Alf hisdinner, then made Roo’s. This caused anotherargument. However, at least we are comfortable.It is nice to have a table to write upon, some-thing that I could never have carried had we nothad Alf. Will go to sleep when I finish this.

Day 7

Another bad day! We only covered two or threemiles today, as Alf said he felt a bit stiff. Also hecomplained that the camping table was rattlingtoo much and made him nervous, so I had toleave it at a place called Pretty Sally’s Hill. I hopeshe likes it. I did not see her. Roo said she wasprobably hiding behind a rock with her children.

Alf lay down and refused to get up, so I hadto make camp as best I could on the spot that hehad chosen, a miserable patch of scrubby grassbeside a dead tree. Roo did not help me with thetent and said that instead she needed to hunt, as

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that is what tracker dogs do when they are rest-ing. After I had finished pitching the tent, shecame running back in a very distressed state. Shesaid she had been digging out a mouse fromunder a stone when a huge bear hanging upsidedown in a tree had jumped on her. She wasreluctant to show me where the bear lived and,naturally, I was not keen to investigate. I didn’tknow they had bears in Australia.

Decided to build quite a large fire to keep thewild bears at bay. I have read that most wild ani-mals are afraid of fire. You can pick up a flamingbranch and just shake it at them and they will runaway.

I tethered Alf to the dead tree and then Istood guard with a golf club and a flamingbranch. It began to rain again, and soon theground was covered in large puddles and smallstreams began to form in the gully.

Roo was extremely alert, just like a propertracker dog, keen to every minute sound. Herears were like antennae, twitching and swiveling,and she barked at the smallest noise. Then I

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heard mewling in the bushes. It sounded like alost kitten. Out of the clearing crawled a koala,no bigger than a teddy bear, and the little crea-

ture ran toward me with itstiny arms outstretchedalmost as if I were itsmother. The poor littlething was soaked tothe skin and shiver-ing miserably.

I wrapped it up inRoo’s blanket and put it in

my coat to keep warm. Then Icarried it to the nearest eucalyptus tree, where Ifound its mother searching. How happy theywere to see each other again. It was a wonderfullittle creature. I felt pleased to have done such agood deed, and could even see the funny side ofit. Big bears don’t pounce out of trees on littledogs in Australia. Had a good laugh, I can tellyou. Roo embarrassed. Said it was much biggerearlier and must have shrunk in the rain.

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Day 8Sprog’s Hill

Today was a better day. We made excellent pro-gress up a hill and almost made it to the top, untilAlf decided he could go no further. Wehave camped by a small cave inthe side of the hill, just belowthe summit. I pitched the tentand built a small fire. I putsausages on to grill and set acan on the embers, just asShorty had shown me backat Woolly Tree Farm. As thelight from our fire danced onthe walls of the cave, I began tonotice strange drawings emergingthrough the gloom. Men and kan-garoos danced with wallabies andsnakes. At first I thought I was dreaming, for thefigures and spirals seemed to move in the light of

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the fire, and for a moment I wassure that the kangaroos were

hopping in a herd. I took aburning branch, and by

its light I made outother creatures in thepainting—strange

birds and, best of all,thought Roo, a huge

sky rabbit. I presume thesemust be the work of the Aborigines. They havelived in Australia since the beginning of time, andI have read that nobody really knows where theycame from before that.

Day 9

Although the compass now appears to be work-ing, I am unable to get back on course for GoldTown.

The problem has been a combination of Roo,the camel, and other creatures. Alf has suddenlybecome suspicious of large red boulders andwon’t go past them. This has meant that we

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have had to press west rather than east for mostof the day. A gang of kangaroos hopped rightthrough our camp this afternoon, breaking myteapot and knocking over a bag of sugar, whichcaused an army of ants to rush out of the longgrass and attack us. Roo found a large bone inthe gully and wouldn’t leave it alone. It was tooheavy for her to carry, let alone pick up, and soshe remained for an hour, hunched over it,growling like a wild beast whenever I tried totake it off her.

Quite lost this evening. Will we ever find GoldTown?

Day 10Swagger’s Creek

Alf took another large detour today after hedecided to follow a herd of wild camels. For thewhole day he trudged after them, complainingand belching in the most horrible manner. I triedto tug at his head as Shorty had showed me, butnothing I did made him turn in the direction thatI wanted him to go.

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We trooped up several hills and descended asteep slope to a river, which on the map is calledSwagger’s Creek. It was good to see so muchwater, and I was relieved when the camels stop-ped to drink. I have read that camels can smellwater, and I was delighted to have witnessed areal demonstration of this feat. Roo said that shehad smelled it too, several days before, actually,but had forgotten to say so.

We made camp by the river.I will not write much tonight, Child. The insects

are in high spirits.The wild camels are still with us, but the kan-

garoos have moved on, so it is peaceful.The sound of the river running soothes me. I

shall sleep well tonight.

Day 11Crow’s Nest Peak

Dreadful night. Woken by Alf with his head pok-ing through our tent. Gave me quite a shock toopen my eyes to that, I can tell you. Thought Iwas having a nightmare. His breath is foul in the

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morning! Alf said a monster had crawled out ofthe river and frightened all the camels away. Hesaid he was unable to escape because I hadchained him to a tree “like bait on a hook,” as heput it. He said the creature had a long neck andspines, and big round eyes like saucers. It onlywent away because my snoring scared it, said Alf.What nonsense!

Unfortunately this nonsense means that wecan no longer follow the path by the river. Alfrefuses to budge on this. Camels are very stub-born, as you know.

We are no nearer Gold Town. We might aswell be back in England. Now we will never findUncle Vincent.

Pressed on to try to find the route backtoward Gold Town, but poor progress againtoday. Alf still following the herd of wild camels,which is not going the same way as we are. Thisis causing some friction between Alf and me. Ihad to show him who was the boss. Delayed giv-ing him his dinner on time, which I think showedhim who was in control.

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Roo said that a lizard crept into my tent thisevening and made off with one of my slippers.Asked her why she didn’t stop it, and she repliedthat it wasn’t her job to guard slippers. Searchedfor slipper but no sign. What a nuisance!

Day 12

The wild camels have been follow-ing us all day. Made our campbeside a small stream while theywatched from behind a bush. Theleader of the pack, a large malewith a big scar on his side,came over to Alf and triedto tempt him away fromus. Said that he shouldbe ashamed for allowinghimself to be used as abeast of burden.

This has made thingsa lot harder for me, andalthough I fed Alf a loafof our precious bread to

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prove to him that I bore no grudge, he still seemsresentful toward me and has taken to calling me“Boss” in a very sarcastic manner.

I hope that I don’t have a camel mutiny onmy hands.

Day 14Lazy Bloke’s Creek

Unable to travel for two days as the heat hasbeen so unbearable. Yesterday it got so hot thateven the wild animals became listless, and onlythe insects took delight in soaking up the fullheat of the sun. We took shade in a pleasantgrove of trees. Roo sat underneath a gum treeand chewed on one of my pencils. She says thatshe might write a book about rabbits for otherdogs who might want to visit Australia. I said itwas a very good idea, but, like a lot of Roo’sideas, I am sure that it will come to nothing. Shelay under the tree for most of the day, only get-ting up to drink large amounts of our dwindlingwater supply.

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Wild camels hanging around most of the day.Keep saying things to Alf that I can’t hear, andthen all of them stare at me in a hateful way.Even Roo is in a bad mood with me, probablybecause she blames me for losing that plasticrabbit ages ago.

It really is quite useless. I have no idea wherewe are, let alone where your Uncle Vincent maybe. Australia is a very big place, Child. It is easy tobecome daunted by its vastness. I feel like a nee-dle in a haystack. Roo has not been the trackerdog that she promised to be. She does not get up

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early enough to be a real tracker dog. A realtracker dog would be up at the crack of dawn,eagerly sniffing at the trail. I am lucky if I can getRoo up at all, and when I have given her break-fast she often falls asleep. If I do get her going,she tends to track things that we are not lookingfor. Yesterday we spent a wasted afternoon in adried-out creek, looking for something that Roosaid was a clue. She sniffed around a scrubbybush and then began digging. After she had dugfor ten minutes, she suddenly lost interest andfound something more interesting—her tail.

How will we ever find Uncle Vincent with thisattitude?

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This evening I fed Alf the last of the hay andgave him a Vegemite sandwich as a sign of good-will, but he just flung it over his shoulder and saidhe wasn’t going to be bribed by a slave driver.Left him sulking under a gum tree.

Day 15Gormless Gulch

Alf has run away. I think he has gone off with thewild camels. He wasn’t tethered last nightbecause we had a row about me not trustinghim. He said that he had his dignity and that realbushwhackers don’t tether their camels and thathe felt like a prisoner. In the end Ifelt so guilty that I left himuntied. This morning he hasgone, even taking oneof my good blanketswith him.

Had to carry all ourequipment now that Alfhas gone, which meant

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leaving certain things behind. I decided thatRoo’s basket must go, as it has not been usedonce by her on the entire trip. She became veryupset. She said I should leave her as well if wecouldn’t take the basket. Had to take thewretched thing and leave some other usefulthings behind, like my camping stool, which Iwill miss in the evenings.

Day 16Uncle Freddie’s Pool

We have found the going a lot harder now thatAlf is not here. Roo says it smells nicer, but I amafraid that without him we will not make muchprogress. Roo refuses to carry anything, as shesays she is not a pack animal and is certainly notgoing to become a replacement for Alf.

Fortunately I have the golf trolley.We crossed a series of small creeks, and I’m

afraid that I had to carry Roo each time as she iscertain that there are crocodiles in the water anddoesn’t want to get eaten by one. The bush

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became more arid and dry and I worried that wewere going to enter a desert, although there isno mention of one on the map. Actually thereare no names on the map for the bit that we arein at the moment, so I can’t tell you where weare. Roo said that we could make their names upourselves, so we did, and we named two treesafter Roo and a dried-up pond after Uncle Fred-die to make up for borrowing the golf trolley.

Pitched our tent by Uncle Freddie’s Pond, as itis now known, and had a miserable dinner ofsausages and porridge as we are running low onprovisions.

Tidied up the tent this evening and tried tosort out our equipment. Found in the back ofthe tent a whole load of things that I don’tremember packing. It seems that Roo has beendragging all sorts of things in here—bits ofwood for gnawing on, a horrible old bone, anda rancid old tin. Threw them all out, watched byRoo in disgust.

She has become very despondent. First shesays she wants to go home because she doesn’t

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like Australia—her breed isn’t suited to it. Althoughshe said that her breed is expert on sand, she nowremembers that it is soft grass that it is good onand not sand at all. Then she complains that the

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rabbits were too fast here and sometimespretended to be stones, which wasn’tfair. I gathered wood and pretendednot to hear. I am far too concernedwith our daily disasters tohave to listen to this.

Day 17

Made our way today through a wide valleytoward a big hill. Climbed all the way to the top,then found that there was an even bigger hillbehind it. Made camp on the top of the hill. Hadto tie Roo to the golf trolley because I don’t wantany accidents.

Later, when we were having our supper, anunruly gang of yelling kangaroos leapt throughour camp, causing chaos. Pots andpans went flying and the guyropes of the tent got tan-gled in their huge feet. Theyhopped away down the hill

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at great speed, dragging my tent behind them.Roo bolted after them, still attached to the golftrolley, which reared up behind her, scattering allour equipment and water bottles as she scram-bled down the hill.

I set off after her, though it was difficult tokeep up. We had soon covered quite a distanceand I eventually found her barking into a smallhole beneath a tree. She said they had all gone inthere. It took me ages to drag her away from the

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hole, which wasn’t big enough to hide a familyof moles, let alone a herd of kangaroos.

At the bottom of a long gully lay the golf trol-ley. The frame was buckled and twisted. One ofthe wheels had snapped off and lay a few metersaway. Further up the gully I found the tent hang-ing on a bush.

Now we are completely lost. Told Roo it was allher fault. She trotted off with her tail between herlegs and said that she was going home, but she

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made sure that she was never out of my sight bypretending to find interesting things on the way.

I rescued the golf trolley, hastily packed itwith as much of the equipment as I could find,and folded the tent up. I stood on a rock andscanned the bush for signs of a landmark, but wewere hopelessly lost. Our pots and pans were stillin the camp back up the hill and would have toremain there. I hoped that maybe someonewould find them and cook a meal in them.

The going was not easy with the one-wheeledtrolley. I stumbled up the hill dragging thewretched thing behind me. Roo trotted ahead andpretended not to notice me. The ground wastough and dry. Large cracks in the soil formednasty ruts that wore away at my ankles. I felt hotand angry. We climbed the hill for what seemedlike a whole day. Then just as the sun was begin-ning to set, the top of the hill came in view. I stag-gered up the ridge and looked down to see an oddbut welcome sight.

In a hollow depression sat a collection of housesclustered around a long, sloping, tin-roofed build-ing lit with rows of colored Christmas lights.

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There were balloons in the trees and scraps ofcolored bunting draped across every house.Everywhere there were animals of every descrip-tion. Sheep and long-horned cattle milled upand down the main street. Mules and oxenstrolled side by side through gangs of hoppingkangaroos, and on every roof of every houselarge flocks of birds perched in long lines.

What luck! We have been saved. Went to lookfor help immediately. Could this be Gold Town?

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20 DecemberGold Town

Great luck has befallen us. We have acci-dentally found Gold Town, a place thatUncle Vincent has mentioned many timesin his postcards. He can’t be too far away.The Gold Field is only five more miles fromhere, and as soon as the trolley is fixed weshall reach it in no time.

Our tent is pitched behind the pub in afield. It costs three dollars a night, four if youmake use of the washing facilities—a tapand a drinking trough for horses. Grogman,the owner of the pub, said I could use anytoilet I found free, which I thanked him for.He said that Roo would have to use the field,which goes without saying. He watched aswe pitched our tent as far away as possiblefrom our only other neighbor in the field, abad-tempered camel tethered to a post. I

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have decided I want nothing more to do withcamels.

Gold Town is smaller than I thought itwould be. It is not really a town at all, hav-ing only one street, Gold Street. There is asupermarket, a post office, a garage, a pub,and a large barn called the Gold TownHome for Retired Pack Animals.

Went to the post office and was glad-dened to find a parcel from you there.Thank you for the flip-flops. Although theyare a size too big, they will be very usefulfor swatting flies with. Tell your mother thatthe shorts are an excellent fit and, despitethe jeers I received this morning from someyoung kangaroos outside the post office, Iwill continue to wear them.

Unfortunately no news of Uncle Vincent.The man in the post office knows him butsays he hasn’t seen him for ages.

I have found a garage where I can getthe golf trolley fixed. It is a most unusual

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place, run by an old ram and a monkey.The monkey is incredibly fast at undoingnuts and bolts, because he can hold aspanner in each paw and one in his tailwhile working. They both stood around the

broken trolley andshook their heads.

Then at last the oldram sighed and said it

would take a week tomend! He explained that hecouldn’t get the spare partsto fix the trolley. The prob-

lem seems to be that here inGold Town the kangaroos deliver all the let-ters, carrying the mail in their pouches. Thedrawback is that sometimes they get boredand post the letters in any old tree hole theycan find, just to get the job done quicker.He said my order would be safe, as it was

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going SPECIAL CLASS, which means aspecial class of kangaroo, I suppose. Any-way, must dash.

Hope this finds you well.

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21 DecemberGold Town

Our second day in Gold Town. We went downto the garage to see how my trolley was get-ting on. Still in pieces. Went to the post officeand got to chatting with the mailing officer. Itseems that Gold Town has seen better days.It was here that the miners flocked when thegold rush began. The town was full to the

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brim with them. The pub was filled night andday and there was a casino where everyonewho had found gold could gamble it allaway. When the gold ran out, the minerspacked up and left. That’s why there are somany animals here. They all used to workfor the miners—pack mules and oxen formoving rocks, donkeys and camels fortrekking, even canaries to go down themines with the miners, and kangaroos forrunning errands and delivering mail.

We visited the supermarket and boughtsome more essentials. Roo wanted a brightred ball, which I bought for her, but I wouldn’tallow her to spend her own money on a large inflatable Bugs Bunny. I explained thatwe didn’t have room in the tent for BugsBunny.

I could see quite a few old mules hang-ing round outside the Gold Town Home forRetired Pack Animals as we went back to

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our tent. Bade them a good evening and theywere most polite in their response.

Had a pleasant supper in the tent, withthe lantern throwing a cheery light on us.Roo asked me to sing a Roo song.

It went like this:

I went looking for Wallamagoo,I took a tracker and her

name is Roo,Yes, I have a dog and her

name is Roo,Bet you five dollars she’s a

good dog too!

I made up more of this nonsense—Rooloves it when I make the words only abouther, and I have to try and sing as manyverses of this as I can, making sure that theyall rhyme, while she sits in her basket andsmiles. I sang another twelve or so verses ofthis until she fell asleep.

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She is sleeping quietly now at my feet, inher basket, where I hope she will remain. Iam too tired to write any more, Child.

Goodnight.

P.S. These kangaroos are becoming a realnuisance. Yesterday I found a group of themrummaging around in our tent. One of thelittle ones had a pair of my underpants on!

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22 DecemberGold Town

Trolley still not mended, as the old ram saidthat it had been in another accident. Wouldn’tshow me the trolley, which is very suspicious,but said that it would be ready on ChristmasDay.

Another day wasted in Gold Town. Wespent a lot of time keeping ourselves coolduring the heat of the day, resting in the tentand reading the map. I had forgotten hownoisy it could be in a tent. The fabric is sothin that you can hear a pin drop. Not only

is there the non-stop chattering of insects,frogs, and small birds to listen to, but thisevening we had all the noise from the pub,plus the braying of Grogman’s camel. Some-one was playing a guitar badly and singing arude song. Then a passable tune began,accompanied by much laughter, drummingon beer cans, and the chorus of many kan-garoos singing together. They were singingmy Roo song but with different words. Itwent something like this.

An old man went looking for Wallamagoo,

Prodding with his stick his poor dog Roo,

Whacked his camel black and blue,Watch it, mate, or he’ll whack you!

Never have I prodded Roo and certainly Inever laid a finger on Alf—or any other camel

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for that matter. I decided not to make ascene, but when I see Mr. Grogman, I shallcomplain to him for allowing such foul songsto be sung in his pub.

Decided that if we were going to be stuckin Gold Town for Christmas we would makethe best of it. Of course we cannot preparea huge Christmas dinner over our smallcamping stove, but we shall try our best. Ihave a surprise for Roo. Bought someChristmas decorations, some mince pies,and a Christmas pudding. She has suddenlyremembered Christmas and is very excited.

The sun was setting as we returned to ourtent with the Christmas provisions. The pubwas all lit up. An old oil-can was belchingforth thick black smoke, and I could smellbacon frying. Some dingoes snuck out of thetrees and slipped into the pub. Roo beganbarking after they had gone inside, whichbrought out a few of the kangaroos to have

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a look. The kangaroos showed off, noisilyjumping on to the tin roof of the pub andbouncing on it. Annoyed, I went to bed andput cotton wool in my ears to block out thesound of the raucous laughter and bansheewailing. At about midnight they stoppedsinging and then went home extremely qui-etly. I fell into a beautiful sleep.

Woke at three o’clock to the terrible soundof many trucks. It sounded as if we weregoing to be mown down. I struggled to getmy clothes on, tripping over Roo, who wasfrantically trying to dig her way out of thetent, then opened the tent to an extraordi-nary sight. The whole of Grogman’s was litup, and the pub was surrounded by carsand trucks of every description. Possumswere crammed into the back of trucksdriven by wombats, and everywhere werehundreds of sheep. Smaller creatures were

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there as well. The oxen and the water buffalobrayed madly as they jostled for spaces inthe pub’s car park. Then the music beganand the animals made a dash for the hugepile of bottles. They drank all night long. Atone point a huge fight broke out amongeveryone—the duckbill platypuses and the

bandicoots excepted, forthey are shy creatures andnot prone to fighting.

This morning all is quiet. Itis so hot that I cannot bear to stand in thesun. Roo lies panting under a tree. Only thekangaroos are still active, and were usingmy tent to jump over until I told them to stopit. Then they idled off, pausing nonchalantlyto inspect a hole in a tree.

Put the rest of the decorations up to makeour tent a little more cheerful. The kanga-roos watched us all evening. Good supper ofmashed potatoes and sausages.

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Will send this letter to you in the morn-ing, as I expect we shall be on our wayagain soon.

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Christmas EveGold Town

A good day, spent making final prepara-tions to get on the move again. I cleaned allour equipment. Roo said she couldn’t seethe point as it was bound to get dirty again.Ignored this.

The mules sent us a Christmas card, whichwas very nice of them, and I, in return, sent abox of toffees to their home.

Roo went to bed early to wait for FatherChristmas. Eventually got to sleep aroundmidnight, but woken at three o’clock in themorning by some of the kangaroos andthree oxen singing Christmas carols outsideour tent. Later a truck full of excited sheepdrove past and yelled out “Merry Christ-mas!” which woke Roo up. She is alreadyexcited enough, and wanted to know if it wasFather Christmas arriving on his sledge. This

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then started her wondering how he wouldland his sledge if there was no snow. I toldher that Father Christmas could land hissledge on sand or snow and he would behere soon, if she went to sleep.

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Christmas DayGold Town

An extraordinary thing has happened.Woke on Christmas morning to the sound

of complete silence. Struggled out of the tentto find that a thick carpet of snow had fallenin the night. Snow in Australia! How strange!Of course all the animals were completelystunned by the white stuff, as they had neverseen snow before. They didn’t know whatsnow was. Even the kangaroos were quieter

than usual and kept sniffing at it andjumping up and down on it.

Roo and I built a snow rabbit,and we soon had quite a crowdof animals watching us. I taught

them how to do various different things withthe snow. I showed them how to make aslide, which caused endless fun, especiallyfor the kangaroos, who are very good at it.As you can see, their hind legs are perfect.I showed the animals how to roll the snowinto balls, although I now regretteaching the kangarooshow to makesnowballs.

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Massive snowball fight outside the puband two windows broken. Took cover in ourtent and unwrapped our presents. I got apair of socks from your mother, a packet ofjam labels from Roo, and an egg timer fromUncle Freddie. I thought your present bestthough. I have always wanted a magnet set.Thank you.

Gave Roo her present. I admit that it isnothing exciting, but our journey acrossAustralia calls for practical measures. Wecannot have the tent cluttered up with use-less items, so I think my choice of a new dogcollar was sensible. Quite annoyed to see itlying discarded behind the tent this after-noon.

The snow has already begun to melt as Iwrite this. The animals are watching as itforms into puddles beneath a hot sun.

In the evening the old ram and the mon-key, flanked by a gaggle of assorted crea-tures, wheeled my repaired golf trolley into

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our camp. There was much cheering as itwas unveiled. Thanked the old ram andinvited him to stay for Christmas dinner.

We shared out the mince pies and pud-ding, and soon many of the citizens of GoldTown came down to join us. The mulessang some very amusing Australian balladsthat they had learned from the miners, andRoo particularly liked the one about a littledog and a tucker box. A possum sang asong about someone’s roof he had lived in,which wasn’t so interesting.

It was a most enjoyable evening, a goodend to our stay in Gold Town. Tomorrow wewill pack up and begin the final leg of ourjourney into Dust Valley.

Merry Christmas, Child

Boxing DayLast Expedition: Dust Valley

Loaded the golf trolley and tied on as manywater bottles as we could. Water is mostimportant to us. Without it we would die inthe desert. I have decided to drag the trol-ley myself, as Roo says she is too tired.Besides, she told me it is mostly my stuff init. We had an argument about this, and inthe end Roo said she would carry her ownplastic water bottle and nothing else.

The old ram and the monkey came to seeus off. We thanked them and I gave the oldram a woolen hat, which I thought was sillyafterwards, and paid him for the repairs.Then we waved them goodbye and beganour journey to Dust Valley.

We looked back at the town only once,the silver roof of Grogman’s glinting in the

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sun. On the horizon I could see the outlineof the famous Dangling Rock. It took usseveral hours to make our way across thevalley toward it. The sun was relentless,and twice we stopped in the shade of a bluegum tree. We were covered in a fine reddust, and Roo looked like a little red dingo.Tied the umbrella to her collar to give hershade while we walked. The flies tormentedus, buzzing around our heads in a thickblack cloud. When we tried running to getrid of them, they followed us.

We walked in silence for many miles, withonly the sound of our feet crunching throughthe sand. We stopped for lunch beneath atree. I shared out our water and was annoyedto find that Roo had dropped her water bowland had to use mine. I don’t mind sharingwith a dog, but Roo asked if I could clean itafter I had used it as she didn’t want to catchany germs.

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We will not walk in the heat of the day.As they say, only mad dogs and English-men go out in the midday sun, and we arenot that foolish.

I wrote a little and checked the map tosee that we were still on the right course.On the horizon I could still see the outline ofthe Dangling Rock. So this time we must beheading in the right direction.

I can’t write any more at the moment,Child. Roo has woken up and is runningaround in circles. She says she got a whiffof something on the wind, perhaps UncleVincent’s trail. We must be quick.

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27 DecemberNear the Dangling Rock

What a nuisance! The scent that Roo pickedup was not Uncle Vincent’s but a baby kan-garoo’s. We found it hopping in small stepsbeneath the huge Dangling Rock, calling forits mother. I picked it up and put it in thegolf trolley, which in a way is quite similar toa mother kangaroo’s pouch. It seemed quitecontent with this and stopped crying, but I

am worried as we have no kangaroo milk.An orphan is the last thing weneed. It is hard enough to lookafter ourselves, let alone anorphaned kangaroo. How willwe feed it? I wanted to call itLittle Roo, as it is less tosay than Little BabyKangaroo. Roo said shedidn’t want it called that, asshe is the only Roo in the worldand people would get confused.She suggested Ratty because,she said, it looked like one.Ratty is wholly inappropriate, so we settledon Joey, though I do not know if it is a boyor a girl.

Fed Joey with some crushed-up MilkyBar mixed with water. Used one of my socksto make a teat. Joey sucked hungrily. Roosulked and said it was a waste of goodchocolate.

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There is nothing here to showthat Uncle Vincent has ever beenat the Dangling Rock. Perhaps Iexpected to find some writing onthe rock to tell us that he had

been here. But there is nothing, only theremains of a campfire, an old boot, andsome strange marks in the sand.

After some tea and a sandwich, we con-tinued on our way. The ground had becomevery stony and it was hard going. I had tocarry Roo most of the way, as she said herpaws hurt. This made the going even harder,what with Roo complaining that I wasn’t car-rying her properly. When at last I set herdown to take a breather, she shot off acrossthe bush after something, scrambling intosome prickly bushes. She came back halfan hour later looking pleased with herself. Imust say that I am heartily sick of the wayRoo has behaved on this expedition. As faras she is concerned we are here only to go

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rabbiting. When I asked yesterdaywho we were looking for, she saidshe had no idea what I was goingon about, and she wanted to gohome on the train. Although it pains me tohear her whining, we must press on andfind my brother. I must be strong. I am theleader of this expedition, and weaknessnow would only ruin the progress we havemade.

Ate supper in silence. Things moving inthe long grass. Kept watch till midnight andbuilt the fire up higher than normal to keepthings away. Roo slept in the bottom of mysleeping bag as there was too much activ-ity in the darkness. She lay there growlingall night, which made it hard for me to sleepat all, and even when I moved, she barked.What with that and her claws poking intome, I hardly got a wink of sleep.

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28 December

Have been following a new trail that Roofound. She was very excited, running aroundin circles. She says she can smell an oldman’s footprints. I asked her to tell me more,and she said she could smell that the trailwas recent, only a day or two old. It must beVincent. Who else would be out here in thisterrible place? Followed the new trail for awhole day. You can imagine how I felt whenRoo led me into the old camp we had madelast night.

Water is beginning to run low. We haveenough to last us a few days and no more.

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Took the last bottle and placed it under atree to keep cool. Ate a meager meal ofsardines and spaghetti. Roo finished off twoplates and licked the saucepan clean. I hateit when she does that, but I am too tired tocreate a fuss.

Slept badly. Dingoes very restless.

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29 December

You can see that it is only a short distancefrom Gold Town to the Gold Field. I amafraid that what should have taken a dayhas taken three so far, and we are still nonearer. This is because Roo has led me onso many detours. What can I do when mytracker dog hasn’t got a clue?

Water is now down to the last cupful. Ihave heard that the Aborigines can findwater by digging in the earth. Got a pickaxand began to dig. I dug for a while, and Roojoined in too before she realized that weweren’t digging for rabbits and gave up. Shesat and watched as I dug in the blazing sun.I was giddy with the exertion of digging.There wasn’t even a drop of water to be seen

in the red dirt. The hole was now quite big,almost deep enough to stand in. I took thepickax and gave it one last swing, hittingsomething hard. The next moment there wasa huge gush of water that knocked me offmy feet and flew six meters into the air, tak-ing my hat with it.

We had struck water! What joy! Roo ranround and round in circles, as she alwaysdoes when she is happy.

The water fountain never lessened itsflow. We were sprayed by the clear, cool liq-uid and stood underneath it as if it were ashower. We filled ourselves with as much aswe could, drinking until we were full tobursting. Eventually the gushing droppedto a steady flow and the water formed asmall pond. Flocks of budgerigars came toenjoy it.

About the middle of the afternoon we fellasleep under the shade of a gum tree. Whenwe awoke we saw that the pond had now

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evaporated to a small puddle. We hastilyfilled our water bottles with as much wateras we could carry, then left our little oasisbehind and carried on further into the heartof the desert.

We soon came to a small huddle of tin-roofed shacks. An old man rushed out tosee who we were. He seemed upset, andexplained that he was waiting for the flyingplumber because somehow his water pipeshad burst and he had no water. I told himabout the water we had found, showing himhow I had dug the hole with the spade andpick and explaining about the shock I hadas the huge plume of water jetted into theair. I pointed to where the oasis was andoffered to show him. Then for no apparentreason he became aggressive and belliger-ent. Why this valuable piece of nat-ural survival informationshould anger him, I knewnot, but I feared that he had

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been out in the sun too long and was suffer-ing from a type of sunstroke.

We left the old chap alone and headedtoward a dirt track. Came across a rusty oldsign proclaiming that this was the GoldField. I had no idea that it would beso big. I suppose I had expected asmall field with a fence around it.It wasn’t so much a field as acountry. It spread out for miles in front ofus. We made poor progress across it. Therewasn’t much gold in sight for a place calledthe Gold Field, but everywhere we saw theremains of old shacks and deep holes in theground where the miners had searched forgold.

The heat is terrible. We have drunk a lotof water today.

Searched for Uncle Vincent all day—shouting his name until I became hoarse.But there wasn’t another living soul in sight.What a lonely place this is!

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Cannot write much more, Child. Theinsects are relentless in their attackson my lantern, whole squadrons ofthem hurling themselves at the light.Roo and Joey are asleep. Do not worryabout us, Child.

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30 December

Still in the Gold Field. This part seems evenmore empty than the rest of the field, andthe ground is littered with small jaggedrocks. Have not seen a mine or a shack fora long time now. It is hard to walk acrossthe ground, so painful are these rocks. Hadto put Roo in the golf trolley with Joey.

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Camped by an old water tank. Tried tosee if there was any water in it, but all thatcame out of the tap was some rust.

We are down to our last three bottles ofwater.

I feel very old tonight. Roo and Joey are asleep in my sleeping

bag. The evening’s peace is broken only bythe howl of the dingoes.

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New Year’s EveThe Gold Field

The sun got so hot today that the wheelsof the golf trolley melted, leaving a blacktrail of melted rubber in our wake. Wehaven’t seen another living thing, exceptfor a couple of brown lizards, who seemwell equipped to survive this terrible heat.The water is running low. We only havetwo bottles left. Made Joey some more milky,as he now calls it.

The situation is desperate, Child. The sunis getting hotter. There are no trees here andthe only shade we could find was in a hole.I draped the tent over us to create someshade.

A hot wind blew all day long, and only inthe early evening could we begin our search

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again. When New Year came we held handsand I sang a bit from “Auld Lang Syne,”then drank some of the last of the water.

Down to our last water bottle.

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New Year’s DayThe Gold Field

We drank the last drops of the water thismorning. Made Joey the last of the MilkyBar and water mixture, but he cried for moresoon after he had been fed. I do not knowwhat to do for the poor little creature.

We have not moved today, as the sun istoo hot. Even the sand is sizzling gently.

2 January

Too weak to dig for water. “Water! Water!Water!” I found myself calling out this morn-ing. Started off Joey, who cried for milkyuntil his voice was just a squeak. Roo pant-ing heavily. We are doomed to perish in thiswretched place. What a fool I have been,bringing my dog to this desert.

I opened a tin of peaches, and we alldrank the juice greedily, but it only made usthirstier as it was full of sugar.

•

Water… Water… Splashing water, cool, coldwaterfalls of water… Iced water… All we canthink about. The sun shimmers in a giantheat haze. My mouth is parched and mytongue feels like I am sucking on a dry boot.

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A little while ago I thought I saw a hugeglass of water in the distance. Roo said shecould see it too. Except it looked to her likea big red dog’s bowl. We started to crawltoward it, dragging the trolley behind. Thenit disappeared. Melted into the sand. It musthave been a mirage.

If you ever get these letters, Child, youwill see that Roo and I tried our best to findUncle Vincent, but the desert made it impos-sible. I am sorry that we went away now. Ican’t bear to think that we will never see youagain.

We are fading away, Child. It’s all right. Iam old. I have escaped death many times.But how I feel for Roo. What a brave dogshe is.

Too weak to scrawl another line. I amthinking of you all. Tell your mother that Iam sorry.

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9 January

As we lay in that parched desert, the sunbeating down on us relentlessly, I dreamed adream. In the dream golden shafts of sun-light lit up a big black tunnel. Roo and I werefloating down the tunnel toward the light.Then an old man with a big white beardappeared and took hold of us in his arms.

When we awoke we found ourselves inUncle Vincent’s shack.

He told us that he had found us when hewas looking for his donkey, Eric, and wouldnot have passed through that part of theGold Field again for many months. I couldhardly believe that the man who stood in

front of me was Vincent. He looked so dif-ferent. The last time I had seen him he wasa young man. Now he was an old man. Hetold us that he had been searching for hisdonkey and had come across the three ofus lying unconscious in the desert. It hadbeen a big shock for him to discover that hehad found his own brother.

I was too weak even to raise my headwhen he set water in front of me, but lappedat it off a plate. He fed little Joey two bot-tles of warm milk and gave Roo a towelsoaked in water to suck on. Then he tuckedall three of us up in his bed. I awoke severaltimes, once to find the shack full of birds,with my brother feeding them birdseed.

Over the next few days, looked after byUncle Vincent, we got our strength back.Soon Roo and little Joey were runningaround the shack, and I was able to sit upin bed and take in my surroundings. The

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shack was filled with UncleVincent’s equipment. Spades

and pickaxes, lanternsand prop shafts, bundles

of rope and tins ofdynamite—all the

stuff that a goldminer needs to find

gold. Except that Uncle Vincenthadn’t found any. Now he lived here allalone, except for his donkey, Eric. Apartfrom the flying doctor, he had no visitors,except the occasional flight of birds.

I am old, but I am happy, said Uncle Vincent.

Today when we felt better he showed usthe mine that he owned. We followed himup a small hill. In the side of the hill he hadburrowed his way into the earth and rock,completing a huge tunnel into the hill. Wedid not go inside, for Uncle Vincent wasafraid that the tunnel might collapse, as the

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timber props were now so old. Largepiles of rocks were stacked inheaps outside the mine, andUncle Vincent and I searchedunsuccessfully among them fora speck or two of gold, while Roo dugaway at an old rabbit hole in the side of thehill. Joey watched, fascinated, and eventried to join in until Roo told him off.

Uncle Vincent observed thatRoo was an excellent digger

and would have been veryuseful as a miner’s dog.Roo told him, in between

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gnawing at a root thatwas blocking her way,that her breed is renownedas diggers and had won cups for it. Wewatched as she dug deeper, until only the

tip of her tail was showing, and then shedisappeared into the hole. Joey hopped

in after her and the two were gone.

They are still in the hole as I write thisnow. It is gone half-past nine, and though Ihave shouted down the hole most of theevening, they are still missing.Uncle Vincent shone a lanterndown the rabbit hole, but all wecould see was blackness.

•

All night we waited by the hole and kept afire lit to watch it. It is now morning andthere is still no sign of them. Roo was only

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showing off to Uncle Vin-cent, and has neverbeen that far into arabbit hole before. Iput a plate of foodby the hole so thatshe could smell her way back to us.

We sat by the hole all day, and Uncle Vin-cent tried to take my mind off Roo and Joeyby telling me all the adventures that hadbefallen him in Australia. He told me aboutstrange creatures that are so rare only theAborigines have seen them—bunyips andbandicoots, giant kangaroos and hugelizards. He told me about the terrible snakecreature that lives in the Snakey River, andI shuddered to think how close wehad been to being eaten.Promised to apologizeto Alf should I ever seehim again.

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Uncle Vincent’s stories are quite fantas-tic, but nothing could stop me thinkingabout Roo and little Joey. What if they hadmet a snake in the hole, or one of UncleVincent’s horrible creatures?

Cannot write any more, Child. Uncle Vin-cent does not seem too concerned, and saysthey are both animals and will be fine. I amfar more worried than he is, it seems.

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11 JanuaryUncle Vincent’s mine

This morning Roo and Joey were still miss-ing. Sat sadly by the hole. How I missed mydog. I remembered the adventures we hadshared. To have been cheated in the end bya stupid rabbit hole!

Then I heard a faint bark, and imaginemy joy when out of the hole popped Roo’shead, followed immediately by Joey! Theywere both covered from head to foot in finered dust, but apart from that they seemedfit and well, and even quite pleased withthemselves.

So glad was I to see them that Iimmediately told them both

off, but Roo jumpedup into my arms

and licked my

face until it was wet. Then they went to theirbowls and ate all their dinner. When Roohad finished she sat on my coat and told uswhat had happened to them.

I listened incredulously as Roo describedher journey down the hole, with Joey nod-ding in agreement behind her. How she hadfought with a big rabbit until she wrestled itto the floor, and how it had begged for its lifeand promised her a huge treasure in return.Roo had followed the rabbit (who, sheadded, was the King of the Rabbits) downthe twisting tunnels into an enormous cave,where they stood surrounded by heaps ofgold, which the Rabbit then kindly gave toRoo. Roo said she couldn’t bring any of itout because she had no pockets and thesmallest piece was too heavy to carry onaccount of its hugeness.

Then she added what I can only describeas a further ridiculous lie to this story, somenonsense about hundreds of rabbits coming

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out of all the other tunnels and bowingdown to her, because she was the richestdog in the world.

I’m afraid I found this all too much tobear, what with the worry of losing Roo in thefirst place, and now this unbelievable story,and I was about to say so when Uncle Vin-cent, who had followed Roo’s story with avery silly expression on his face, almost as ifhe believed it, jumped up and ran back tothe shack. A moment later he reappeared,

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carrying spades and pickaxes,lanterns and rope. There wasa wild look in his eyes.

He handed me a shovel andordered me to dig.

It would have been useless to try andexplain that this was just one of Roo’sstories—he wouldn’t have had it.Suffice to say we have not founda scrap of gold, just some oldrabbit bones and a boot.

Must go. More digging to bedone. What a waste of time!

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13 January

I know that this sounds like one of Roo’sstories, but it is true. Uncle Vincent madethe rabbit hole wide enough for him to crawlinside, and a moment later he was back,holding a large nugget of gold in his hand.

We have found gold! Enough gold to filla barn. Roo ran around in circles, she wasso happy, and I could only stand thereblinded by the golden sheen.

GOLD! GOLD! GOLD!We loaded as

much of the gold onto the donkey’s backas he could manage,and filled the golftrolley. Then wetrooped the short

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distance to Gold Town to celebrate our goodfortune.

Tearful reunion between the kangaroosand little Joey. One of the large reds cameand put his arm around me and thankedme for finding his son. The old ram and themules drove us on the roof of a van roundand round Gold Town to throngs of cheer-ing animals.

Uncle Vincent bought the garage for theold ram and the monkey, and paid off all theother animals’ rents on their homes and bur-rows as well. He ordered several sofas sothat the pack animals in the retirementhomes would be more comfortable. Hebought Grogman’s pub and gave out freecans of Koka Koala till stocks ran dry. SentGrogman cheerfully on his way with a pieceof gold the size of a walnut. Grogman loadedall his stuff on to his camel and sneaked off.Then Uncle Vincent opened the supermarketand gave out wheelbarrow-sized loads of

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food to all the citizens of GoldTown. Some koala bearswere so laden down withleaves that they couldhardly walk.

Kangaroos, freed fromtheir duties as postmen, throngedabout us in the streets and tied euca-lyptus leaves about our brows. Roo was car-ried on the back of an ox through crowds ofcheering possums and wombats, Uncle Vin-cent organized a cricket match against thekangaroos, but they won by a century. Afterthe match Uncle Vincent took my hand andsqueezed it. He never usually does that sort

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of thing, and, being a man of few words, hetold me bluntly that he was glad I had cometo find him, but he had never been lost in thefirst place. Then he said that it wasn’t thefinding of the gold that was the importantbit, it was the looking. Australia was hishome and he could never bear to be inanother part of the world. Roo agreed andsaid it was the same with rabbits. Uncle Vin-cent said he wanted to stay and look afterGold Town and the surrounding bush till hedied. He said he would spend his share ofthe gold on keeping it wild. This wouldmake him happiest.

And so we hugged Uncle Vincent and littleJoey goodbye, and this morning we left onthe bus to Sidney. They waved us all theway out of Gold Town until they were soonjust tiny specks in the distance.

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As I write this down, Child, we are highup in the air in a plane on our way home. Imiss Uncle Vincent and so does Roo. But Ipromised that we would come back nextyear. Next time you can come too.

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We are traveling first class in a brandnew plane. Roo has just been to see thepilot to ask if she can have a go at steeringit. I’m sure he will agree.

After all, it is Roo’s plane.

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