Which would it be?
How attractive to lie down and rest for ever on the parched grass, with
some thin bush to keep off the sun. In the other extreme a shepherd of
the hills, caught in a snowstorm, folds him in his plaid and goes to the
sound sleep. Life in those wrestlers for it had sunk low; better die than
hang on to a mere tether of living. Yet the better instinct asserted
itself. And the second half of the expedition, far in the rear, cried for
relief. On, on!
Sir George staggered across the miles until, in the goodness of fortune,
he met natives who gave him food and water. He crawled into Perth, black
with the sun, bones from want; he was not recognised by friends. A Malay,
daft but harmless, led a vagrant life at Perth, getting bit and sup from
the open tables of the colonists. The good wife of the outermost
settlement, where Sir George Grey knocked, seeking refreshment, took him
for 'Magic.'
'When I spoke to her in English,' he said, 'she looked so surprised that
I feared she might run away, leaving me without the food and drink I
needed. However, she merely exclaimed, "Well if you're not 'Magic,' who
are you?" Being told, and in time convinced, she brewed Sir George the
most delicious cup of tea he ever drank. Soon, relief to the expedition
was scurrying across the plains.
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