Giới thiệu truyện
THE DIVIDED SOUL
By G. B. LANCASTER.
POLSON'S CAMP was at lunch, with a heat-sick sky overhead and a racked, pallid earth underfoot, and the reason of its labours for the last eighteen months lying useless in the drying river-bed below. Billies and pannikins burned red-hot to the touch, and a damper was curled inside out, like dried leather, where Barrett had left it in the sun. Cortiss picked it up and sent it at Barrett's head with words to match. But Barrett lay on his elbows and stomach, and continued to curse the universe, uncaring.
Cortiss settled back under the three inches of shade flung by a manuka bush.
"This 'ere camp's dry-rotted," he said.
He spoke to no one in particular, and Kefford answered, his breath coming stertorously, his great, bull throat swelled with heat where the loose shirt fell away—
"This 'ere camp's a blank fool! That's what! Farren's is closed down, an' Montgomery's is closed down—an' there ain't goin' ter be no water ter carry the logs this side everlastin'. Why ain't we closed down, then?"
Din spat out a mouthful of tea-leaves and tossed the end of his damper to a weka that was tasting his bootlaces.
"That's easy! Guv us another! Don't we all k
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