He was driving me through some ridgy country where the grass in the gullies was very long and rank. I had located a good stream of water, and was describing its direction by the aid of the compass.
My companion asked if I could follow it, explaining there was a flat half-a-mile farther on which would be a better place for the site. I replied that I could do so, but asked him to drive along the outer edge of the stream, so that I could detect if it curved away on that side. We also zig-zagged inwards, so that I might be certain it was still going in the right direction.
Presently we came to a gully, which was covered with grass, and to all appearance very shallow. On reaching it the horses jumped across it, pulling the front wheel of the buggy into a deep hole. The back of the buggy, caused by the hind wheels lifting, caught me between the shoulders. I turned a somersault, and was thrown head first over the wheels, with my head on the bank, and my legs hanging over the hole. Having the rod in both hands, I was unable to break the fall. I yelled out, "For God's sake, keep the wheels from going over my head." The sudden jerk had also sent the driver over the splashboard, but like a good horseman, he steadied himself with the reins and landed on his feet. I then heard him say, "My God! I've killed him, and he hasn't marked the site yet." Thinking of his employer's interest prevented him giving me sympathy.
When I found I was not hurt, and that I could rise without his assistance, I could not but enjoy the situation, although the wheel went over the rim of my hat whilst it was on my head.
I eventually marked the site on the plain, but have not heard the result of the boring.
Printed by
H. Pole & Co. Limited,
Elizabeth Street, Brisbane.
Transcriber's Note:
The following typographical errors have been corrected: