Read "On The Wallaby, The Diary of a Queensland Swagman" by Edward S. Sorenson online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
In what little spare time I had at Bundooma I washed the bulk of my serviceable property, and culled out such things as were no longer worthy of a wash; and with a much lighter swag to shoulder next morning, I stepped briskly along towards Cadargo.
At sunset I unrolled at a mi-mi that drovers had left. When I had carried a heap of wood, and had a bath in the waterhole, I made the startling discovery that I possessed only one match. Being numerous miles from everywhere, this was a serious matter to me. I gathered a quantity of fine bars and dry leaves, put some small twigs on top of them, and placed my hat behind the pile. Then I essayed to strike that match. The first swipe knocked part of the head off; but it didn't light. I got down on my knees and elbows, and, catching it close against the head, tried again. A spark of fire flew from it, and went out. I thought it was a hopeless case then. My spirits dropped, and I asked of the wilderness: What is camp without a fire? The fire was more than half my home; without it to-night I would lack the comforting influence of my only companion--the pipe.