Page:The little blue devil (IA littlebluedevil00mackiala).pdf/62

Dogs and boys have a wonderful power of recuperation, and Tony was of the light, tough terrier-build that is hard to kill; the open-air life of Paranui had strengthened him into the bull-terrier type, but that was no disadvantage. He tramped southward in the cold, and found the world a fairly decent place. The first few days he often felt weak and ill, but when he was exhausted he would go to sleep anywhere by the roadside and rise refreshed. At least he had nothing to fear.

His experiences during the next three months were not pleasant, but he never felt them a nightmare like the reign of Baldwin. He was at a timber camp for a little time; the men there were mostly large, blond Scandinavians, very good-natured when they were sober, but when they got drink into the camp they were of a crude brutality which exceeded anything Tony had ever seen. But they never bothered to bully him with their tongues, and he could stand a good deal if only his mind were left alone.

He went on to a cattle station in the hill country. They took him on out of kindness, he so obviously needed a job, but there was no work for a boy there, and Tony found to his silent rage that he could not keep up with the men. It was a station with a standard of hard, swift work, and at that time of year the cold was fiendish. The sleet cut their faces as they rode over the black mountains, and their numbed hands slipped on the bridle. He only stayed a little while; the sense of being a failure was strong on him; and then it struck him that he had spent a longer time