On The Wallaby, The Diary of a Queensland Swagman by Edward S. Sorenson

Through the busy haunt of the timber getters we had a fine bush road, winding through a great forest that was enlivened with the chatter and song of birds and sweetened with the perfume of early flowers. Often afterwards I thought of that morning. The cheeriness that was everywhere infected us as we strode along with vigorous steps, happy and hopeful. We had no idea where the travel would ultimately end; yet in high spirits we trod side by side, always side by side, and hour after hour, joying in the scenic changes and looking with eager expectancy for the little surprises that await the traveller on woodland ways. To me that road had a thousand charms. I forgot at times that I was looking for such a prosaic thing as a job.

We came opposite a neat house standing a little way back from the road.