Old Mrs. Waterson related a dream that made an impression upon her mind. A few nights before the emigrants landed, she seemed to see a woman, tall, large, and dark complexioned, standing by her side. So vivid was everything connected with the dream, even to the woman’s name, Rachel, that she felt convinced that the person was on the coming ship. Accordingly, when the people landed, she started off in search of the reality, and scanned with curious eagerness each face that she saw. Not meeting on the street anyone that answered to the description, she went on toward the pier, and, within a few minutes’ walk of the place, discovered the object of her search sitting on the steps of the Convicts’ Hospital. A warm welcome and greeting followed, with the explanation that the acquaintance had been already made in a dream, and Mrs. Waterson was especially gratified to learn that the dream was true to the very name, the person being Rachel Evans, the daughter of John Adams. Even before the old lady left the island, the pleasing acquaintance had ripened into warm friendship.
Rogers’ occupation on the island was that of a stock keeper and overseer. Walking along a certain road one day, in company with some of the recent settlers, he observed, in a playful spirit, that when that particular road was being made, he was among the gang of convicts so employed, having been sent to Norfolk Island on the charge of striking down his superior officer. “But,” he remarked pleasantly, “my term of punishment expired some time ago.” Seven other men, ex-convicts nearly all, made up the total of those who remained to look after the place. These men attended to the live stock, milked the cows, kept the dairy, and performed such work. The kindness and attention shown by every one of them to the newcomers could not be surpassed.
Each one exerted himself in pointing out to the new arrivals the different buildings and their various uses, among them the old and new barracks, the government house, the jail and prison, all strongly built of stone, some of which were beautiful as well as strong. Many dreadful tales were also told concerning the island and those who were sent there to be punished, but scarcely a trace remained to testify to the truth of the dark stories of blood and crime. At one place, outside of the burying ground, was shown a mound several feet in length, where moldered the dust of thirteen men who were hung for some dreadful crime on the trees above, while their open grave yawned beneath them.
GROUP OF NATIVE CHILDREN.
An eyewitness related how, one day, when a gang of convicts was constructing a bridge over a stream, one of them murdered a constable who was in charge of the gang. From this dreadful act the scene of the murder received its name, and the “Bloody Bridge” stands, a lasting monument of the awful crime committed there. A tragic story was told of a convict who contrived to make his escape from Norfolk Island to another small island some three miles distant, called Philip Island. By some means this man, known as Jacky-Jacky, was discovered, and a boat was immediately dispatched to secure the escaped prisoner. Finding himself discovered and pursued, and choosing death rather than capture, Jacky-Jacky started to the highest point of the island, several hundred feet above the sea level, where he cast himself off and so perished.
These were only some of the stories that were told by those who were themselves witnesses of the awful scenes, stories still more dark and fearful in their nature than were those in connection with the early settlement of the island lately deserted by the emigrants. But the deeds of horror and bloodshed had passed away with the lives of those who committed them, and everything betokened calmness and peace when the little colony entered on their newly granted possession.
