Another day, another dusty mile. The Swagman wearily unrolls his swag under the sprawling gum tree. Darkness is quickly falling in the bush; you can hear the wind blowing gently through the trees and the distant rustle of kangaroos jumping in search of grass. The Swagman softly lays his fatigued body onto the comfort of his precious swag, and breathes a deep sigh whilst scanning the twinkling dark sky for the familiarity of the five stars comprising the Southern Cross. Every night before closing his eyes, the Swagman takes comfort in gazing at the iconic constellation which could point him in the right direction for his journey. The bright campfire flickered like hot ribbons through the night as he drifted peacefully into sleep dreaming of times past. The glowing sun slowly rises heralding dawn of a new day. The Swagman awakes to the sound of a Kookaburra laughing in the overhead gum tree. He rises, stokes up embers of his fire and renews its flame by placing wood and dried gum leaves on to the campfire. With his billy in hand he fetches water and bathes in the still, muddy creek waters. The Swagman boils the murky water throwing in a few tea leaves from his meagre ration. Stale damper from his tucker bag is dipped into his tea. He contemplates the day ahead. His few possessions gathered, he takes off again along the dusty dirt road. After waking hours with the sun blaring down he searched for human habitation. In the vast distance he saw smoke curling from a chimney up towards the sky. As he got closer he could make out a couple of small figures playing on the track in front of a small shack. “G’day Ma'am, have you got any jobs I could help with for a bit of tucker as my belly is empty?” the swagman asked politely. The kindly looking woman nodded and lead the swagman past the smell of fresh baking bread to the wood pile out the back of the small shack. After a few hours of hard work, the swagman was rewarded with a steaming