Mat had told Dromoora, of what that chief was well aware, that though the gang of the bushranger was broken up, that some of them had escaped over the border into Victoria, and though it was not likely that they would return into New South Wales, yet it was always possible; but he had not told Dromoora many other things, which the faithful chief took upon himself to explain to the assembled tribe, for, after giving a rapturous account of Mat’s doings in general, and a specially detailed account of the gallant fight with Magan, the whole scene of which he acted to the life, and to the death, by making another black fellow personate the bushranger, he concluded,—
“Our white chief, who won the white girl in a hard and fair fight, claims that he should be rewarded by taking her as his wife to his ‘gunyah.’”
This speech was received with loud bursts of pleasure, mingled with cries of “Such would be the reward of a black warrior; such shall be the reward of the white chief.”
Tom, to whom this language was Greek, asked Mat to interpret it, and the meaning of the shouts, which our hero very conveniently and truthfully did, by telling him that they were making a great deal too much of his fight with Magan. “But then, you see, they do love a good fight.”
So the Waigondas agreed that Mat should start whenever he felt so inclined, and before another white man “should come along and steal his girl,” and from that moment of their decision, they made many little preparations to render the southern journey comfortable by collecting for the travellers all the best roots and fruits they could find.
Mat made them a feeling speech on the morning of his departure. When the whole tribe were assembled once more, he said,—
“Oh Chief, and Terebare, and men of the Waigondas, you saved my brother’s life and mine; you cherished us as brothers for many years. The white man does not forget; the white man learns from a book of the Great Spirit that he should try to do unto others as he is done by. If you ever foresee troubles with strange men, send a messenger to me, Dromoora knows the quickest way; and if ever the white man threatens to take your country, show him this paper if you can. I have had it written by the white man’s ink which never fades; this is what it says on many pieces, so that you may all have them:
“Dromoora, and his whole tribe of Waigondas saved the lives of the two brothers Stanley, and cared for them as brothers, for many years. I ask you to carry out their precept, and do unto them as ye shall wish that they do unto you; as they did to me.—Mat Stanley, Bulinda Creek, Sydney.”
Before our hero, Tom, and the two Creek blacks started south, one of the Waigondas came to him bearing an enormous shell, saying,—
“The beast that you used to tell us of, that nearly killed your brother; we found it when fishing once, it was dead and open. Many tides we looked for it.”