So they turned and drifted into wholesome blue water, passing the blacks’ little camp and the gullies and clearings that led back to the country they knew.  In one gully they moored the boat and made their fire, eating their luncheon among the limbs of a fine old tree that had fallen and lay upon its side, its gnarled-boughs making splendid natural arm-chairs.  The birds were very tame: one little brown honey-eater came hopping near them for crumbs, and finally perched on the toe of Tom’s boot, where it remained in a quaint attitude of alert attention.  Then they fished the pools, with varying success, and at last gave it up and travelled swiftly down the arm until they reached the lake itself.  For the last half-mile there was little need for the engine.  The current had been steadily growing in power; at length it whisked them round bend after band, until it brought them out into the open water, and set swiftly towards the Entrance, where the great grey piers guarded the lane of water that led out to the breakers.