“I’ll tell you the end of the villain.”
“Stop,—come to the end o’ that first,” said O’Callaghan, handing old Worral the horn goblet.]
Worrel proceeded:—“After this, Howe having separated from his few remaining associates, had art enough to obtain pardon from the governor, by humbling to him, and offering not only to give himself up, but to engage in annihilating the remaining bush-rangers. He was absolutely at large in Hobart Town—or at least, only accompanied by a constable—awaiting his pardon; and every body looked upon him as reformed, when he slipped off from his keeper, and took to his old habits: but he did not join any others; he wandered about alone, without any communication with mankind, except when necessity drove him to plunder an unguarded settler: totally shut out from man, he lived the sole occupier of an immense tract of the most beautiful country, as yet untrodden by any human foot but his; for the part he selected was the distant and unknown lands: there would he wander while his powder and shot lasted, and then return to replenish his stock by plunder, committing the most wanton acts of atrocity.
“There was a determined fellow of the name of Slambow, who took care of sheep for a Mr. Williams, of Hobart Town: he lived on his land in the neighbourhood of New Norfolk: this man had frequently been accosted by Howe in his rambles, and for aught we knew, did little jobs for him, as much out of fear as love. Howe had now gone to this Slambow, to request him to carry a letter to the Governor; and the request having been complied with, an appointment was made between them to meet at an unfrequented place the following Friday, at sunrise. Slambow, in the meantime, met with a runaway, called Watts, who had been wandering about New Norfolk, and they united in a plan to take Howe when he came to give his letter. Watts was tired of his ranging life, and hoped for pardon, as well as a passage to England, if he captured him. The appointed spot was on the banks of the Derwent river; and Watts took a boat on the Thursday night, and went close up to it; when concealing his boat, he lay himself in a close thicket for the night, to await the coming of Howe and Slambow. A little before sunrise Watts arose from his lair and proceeded to fulfil his appointment, he met Slambow, who then informed him that he was to meet Howe at a place about half a mile away, called Long Bottom: Watts requested Slambow to hide his gun where he could find it on their return, because he said Howe might object to come to them, if he saw him armed—as to Watts being armed, Howe knew he was a Bushman, and would not suspect any thing wrong: this was done, and they proceeded to Long Bottom, where they arrived just as the sun was rising. I saw this very place, myself—it is a wide plain near the river, but skirted by abrupt mountains; here and there it is spread with bushes and trees, and in the centre is a creek or nook of the river. When they had come within about a hundred yards of this creek, Slambow hallooed loudly; and at the signal Howe appeared. As soon as he saw them, he requested Watts to shake the priming out of his gun, and offered to do the same himself: this was accordingly done by both, and they walked together conversing on different matters, when Howe proposed to light a fire and have some breakfast: this was agreed upon—the wood was collected, and set fire to—the haversacks opened—and they were apparently about to enjoy a Bushranger’s breakfast, when Watts, who was a strong man, came behind Howe—threw him down—and there held him while Slambow tied his hands.
“Having secured their prey, they sat down to their breakfast; and after having finished their meal, set out for Hobart Town. They had not gone more than eight miles when Howe, who had found means to loosen the cords on his hands, drew a knife and stabbed Watts, who fell from the blow, and dropped his gun. Slambow was below a bank, and thus prevented from seeing what Howe had done; nor did he suspect until he heard Watts groan, and saw Howe presenting a gun at his breast. The next moment he was dead; for Howe fired and shot him. Watts then cried out to Howe, ‘Have you shot Slambow?’ to which Howe replied that he had, and that he would serve Watts the same way as soon as he could load his gun. Upon this Watts got up and ran about two hundred yards, the blood trickling from his side as he ran: here he fell and lay for a short time, being overcome by loss of blood. Howe did not follow him, fearing an alarm from the shot he had fired; but took his way back to the wilds, happy to have yet that resource from the gallows. Watts crawled to a settler’s house, and was conveyed to the hospital, where he gave an account of the affair, and soon after expired. The inquest on both bodies brought a verdict of wilful murder against Michael Howe.
“This last violence threw the people into consternation, and an additional sum was offered for Howe, dead or alive; for he was now the only Bush-ranger abroad, and his fall most probably would put an end to that system of murder and robbery, which paralyzed trade, and terrified every inhabitant of the settlement.
“I was now determined to make a push for the capture of this villain; for which I was promised a passage to England in the next ship that sailed, and the amount of the reward laid upon his head. I found out a man of the name of Warburton, who was in the habit of hunting kangaroos for their skins, and who had frequently met Howe during his excursions, and sometimes furnished him with ammunition. He gave me such an account of Howe’s habits, that I felt convinced, we could take him with a little assistance. I therefore spoke to a man of the name of Pugh, belonging to the 48th regiment—one whom I knew was a most cool and resolute fellow; he immediately entered into my views, and having applied to Major Bell, his commanding officer, he was recommended by him to the Governor, by whom I was permitted to act, and allowed to join us; so he and I went directly to Warburton, who heartily entered into the scheme, and all things were arranged for putting it into execution. The plan was thus:—Pugh and I were to remain in Warburton’s hut, while Warburton himself was to fall into Howe’s way. The hut was on the banks of the river Shannon, standing so completely by itself, and so out of the track of any body who might be feared by Howe, that there was every probability of accomplishing our wishes, and ‘scotch the snake,’—as they say—if not kill it. Pugh and I accordingly proceeded to the appointed hut: we arrived there before day-break, and having made a hearty breakfast, Warburton set out to seek Howe: he took no arms with him, in order to still more effectually carry his point; but Pugh and I were provided with muskets and pistols.
“The sun had been just an hour up, when we saw Warburton and Howe upon the top of a hill, coming towards the hut. We expected they would be with us in a quarter of an hour, and so we sat down upon the trunk of a tree, inside the hut, calmly waiting their arrival. An hour passed, but they did not come; so I crept to the door cautiously and peeped out—there I saw them standing, within a hundred yards of us, in earnest conversation: as I learnt afterwards, the delay arose from Howe’s suspecting that all was not right. I drew back from the door to my station; and in about ten minutes after this we plainly heard footsteps, and the voice of Warburton;—another moment, and Howe slowly entered the hut—his gun presented and cocked. The instant he spied us, he cried out, ‘Is that your game?’—and immediately fired; but Pugh’s activity prevented the shot from taking effect, for he knocked the gun aside. Howe ran off like a wolf. I fired, but missed. Pugh then halted, and took aim at him, but also missed. I immediately flung away the gun, and ran after Howe. Pugh also pursued—Warburton was a considerable distance away. I ran very fast—so did Howe; and if he had not fallen down an unexpected bank, I should not have been fleet enough for him:—this fall, however, brought me up with him;—he was on his legs, and preparing to climb a broken bank, which would have given him a free run into a wood, when I presented my pistol at him, and desired him to stand: he drew forth another, but did not level it at me. We were about fifteen yards from each other—the bank he fell from between us. He stared at me with astonishment; and, to tell you the truth, I was a little astonished at him; for he was covered with patches of kangaroo skins, and wore a long black beard—a haversack and powder-horn slung across his shoulders. I wore my beard also—as I do now; and a curious pair we looked like. After a moment’s pause, he cried out, ‘Black beard against grey beard, for a million!’—and fired:—I slapped at him; and, I believe, hit him; for he staggered; but rallied again, and was clearing the bank between him and me, when Pugh ran up, and with the butt end of his firelock knocked him down again, jumped after him, and battered his brains out, just as he was opening a clasp knife to defend himself.
“This was the fate of the last and most ferocious of the Bush-rangers—a villain, who never was known to have done an act of humanity, and who had coolly murdered numbers of his fellow-creatures.”
[“Well; did you get the reward, for ridding the world of the rascal?” demanded Sergeant Dobson.]