Explore "The Last Lemurian: A Westralian Romance" by G. Firth Scott on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
THERE was no sign of human occupation about the humpy when I passed through the slip-rails on to Wonga. The door was closed; no smoke came from the chimney, and grass, sheltered from the sun by the verandah, grew rank and strong, where it would soon have been trodden down by any one coming and going through the doorway.
I rode up to the deserted-looking place; and, taking the saddle and bridle from my horse, turned it into the small fenced paddock beside the hut. Then I went round to the window at the back; and, opening it by the trick the Hatter had showed me, I scrambled through it into the one room of the interior. As I crossed the floor to open the door my eye caught sight of some white chalk marks scrawled on the wall, and I read, "B. and O. clearing. D.H. or H. write Saxted."