In a day's time of lusty heaving and running and hauling we had taken on
the bales of compressed fodder that were to feed the cattle for the
twenty-day trip to Taku, China.
Then the little, fiery, doll-like skipper made the tactical error of
paying each man a couple of bob advance on his forthcoming wages.
In a shouting, singing mob we made for Brisbane, like schoolboys on a
holiday.
Two shilling apiece wasn't much. But a vagabond can make a little silver
go far. And there are more friends to be found by men in such a
condition, more good times to be had--of a sort--than a world held by
more proper standards can imagine.
In both brothel and pub the men found friends. There were other sailors
ashore, there were many swagmen just in from the bush--some with
"stakes" they had earned on the ranches out in the country ... and in
their good, simple hearts they were not averse to "standing treats."
* * * * *
As if by previous appointment, one by one we drifted together, we
cattlemen of the _South Sea King_--we drifted together and found each
other in the fine park near the Queensland House of Parliament.
We had, all of us, already over-stayed our shore-leave by many hours.
We grouped together in informal consultation as to what should be
done--should we go back to the ship or not?
"We might run into a typhoon .
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