8

Chapter 8: No Man's Hut

In the meantime, Wonnaminta was riding home along the boundary fence between Broonah and Murrawang. When opposite the Glen, from which the boundary was only a couple of miles, he noticed Rod Bunker, the gruff and rugged old manager of Murrawang, drive up in a waggonette to an empty hut that stood a few chains back from the fence. That hut was a puzzle to everybody on Broonah. It was built by Garratt Rhea, for what purpose none of them could guess. Nobody had ever lived in it, nor had a fire ever been lighted in it--as a matter of fact, it had no chimney, and was plainly never intended as a dwelling. It had a bark roof, and the walls were of split slabs. A lonely, bleak little place, away from all roads, with no water near it, nor a yard, it was a landmark only to the boundary-rider and a source of everlasting wonder. It was known as No Man's Hut.

Wonnaminta had never seen anybody there before, and he was so curious that he hitched his horse to a post and strode over to see what was doing there. When he reached the hut, Mr. Bunker was sitting on the low threshold of the only door, gazing across the plain through a curtain of tobacco smoke. On the floor behind him was a bulky parcel and a big hamper. There was nothing else in the hut, except a half bottle of strychnine, which somebody who had been laying baits for dingoes had left on the lintel of the window, and a small lantern standing on the floor underneath. The window, which looked out on the mid-distant Kholo Hills, was open, and on the sill, evidently just left there, was a pair of field-glasses. These things intensified Wonnaminta's curiosity, more so as the horses were still harnessed to the waggonette, indicating that Mr. Bunker intended to drive away presently.