Today was Hugh Barry's 21st birthday which he and I celebrated by raiding Pete's supply of gin before breakfast. During the day a stockman called Miller rode in with a plant of horses and a bad arm, mainly caused by his putting turpentine and horse blister on a sore. He was duly patched up as were a couple of natives.
In the afternoon the camel mail from Rumbelara rode in and then the station stockman came back with a few brumbies off the run.