FERN VALE
OR THE
QUEENSLAND SQUATTER.

A NOVEL.

BY COLIN MUNRO.

IN THREE VOLUMES.
VOL II.

LONDON:
T. C. NEWBY,
30 WELBECK STREET, CAVENDISH SQUARE.
MDCCCLXII.

EDINBURGH: PRINTED BY THE CALEDONIAN PRESS,

"The National Institution for Promoting the

Employment of Women in the Art of Printing."

CONTENTS.

FERN VALE.

CHAPTER I.

"What are these,

So withered, and so wild in their attire,

That look not like the inhabitants o' the earth,

And yet are on't?"

Macbeth, Act 1, Sc. 3.

"Those fellows have been up to some mischief I am certain," said Tom when the blacks departed, as described in the last chapter. "I am confident my brother has not given them anything; and if they have got any rations at Strawberry Hill, they must have stolen them. However, if you intend going over to their corroboree, I'll accompany you."

"I do intend going," said John, "for I have never seen them in such force as they'll be to-night, and I am curious to see the effect. Do you know what is the nature of the ceremony of their kipper corroboree?"

"I can't exactly say," replied Tom, "their ordinary corroborees are simply feasts to commemorate some event; but the kipper corroboree has some mystery attached to it, which they do not permit strangers to witness. I believe it is held once a year, to admit their boys into the communion of men; and to give 'gins' to the neophytes, if they desire to add to their importance by assuming a marital character. I believe it is simply a ceremony, in which they recognise the transition of their youths from infancy to manhood; though they keep the proceedings veiled from vulgar eyes."

"When, then," continued John, "the kippers are constituted men, and get their gins, are their marriage engagements of a permanent nature; I mean does their nuptial ceremony, whatever it may be, effectually couple them; and is it considered by them inviolable?"

"I believe," replied Tom, "the ceremony is binding on the gins, but their lords are permitted to exercise a supreme power over the liberty and destiny of their spouses. The gins are merely looked upon as so many transferable animals, and they are frequently stolen and carried off by adventurous lovers from their lawful lords and masters; and as frequently made over with the free consent of their husbands, the same as we should do with flocks and herds. Most of the quarrels among the tribes arise from such thefts; and the wills and inclinations of the gins are never for a moment considered."

After this remark the conversation of the young men turned into other channels. About sundown they prepared themselves for their visit, and mounting their horses started off to the Gibson river; which, owing to the darkness of the night, and the difficulty they experienced in threading the bush, and avoiding the fallen logs, they did not reach so quickly as they had anticipated. They, however, crossed by the flats, and guided by the noise of the blacks, and the light from their fires in the scrub, they soon came upon the "camp;" where they found Dugingi, true to his promise, waiting for them.

The camp was composed of about fifty "gunyas" or huts, formed in a circle; in the midst of which were several of the natives, talking and gesticulating most vociferously and wildly. The gunyas were small conical structures of about five or six feet in diameter; formed by pieces of cane being fixed into the ground in an arched shape, so as to make ribs, which were covered with the flakey sheets of the tea tree bark, and laid perfectly close and compact, in which position they were fixed by an outer net-work of reedy fibre; making, though primitive and meagre in accommodation, a dwelling perfectly impervious to the weather. Into these burrow-like domiciles, crowd, sometimes, as many as five or six human beings, who coil themselves into a mass to economize space, and generate caloric in cold nights; when they have a fire in front of the opening which serves for a door. In warmer weather, however, they generally stretch themselves under heaven, with only a blanket to cover them; and, with their feet towards the fire, a party may frequently be seen radiating in a circle from the centre of heat.

When the camp was approached by the young men, the host of dogs, which are the usual concomitants of a black's tribe, gave warning of the visitors' presence; and Dugingi, who was by that means attracted, first removing their horses to a place of safety, led them within the mysterious periphery. As they emerged suddenly from the obscurity of the scrub into the open space where the corroboree was in full progress, they were not a little startled at the scene before them. In the centre was an immense fire; and around it, about one hundred and fifty men were assembled in a circle, except at a gap at the side from which the visitors approached. Here sat, or rather squatted, the gins, the piccaninies, and the males incapacitated from senescence or infirmities. The blacks having ceased their exertions as our friends arrived, the latter had a good opportunity of surveying the picture at their leisure.

In the spot where the blacks had made their camp the ground was naturally clear, and was covered with a smooth sward; while immediately beyond the circumscribed limits of the natural clearance, the thick scrub was, to any but a black fellow, perfectly impenetrable; thus presenting to the eye of the beholder, the appearance of an umbrageous amphitheatre especially created for those savage orgies. The men were all more or less bedecked and besmeared; and, at the moment of our friends' contemplation of them, stood taking breath preparatory to the repetition of fresh exertions. The immense fire was being continually replenished by the gins, and threw a fitful glance over the whole scene that struck the mind with an indescribable sensation of mingled awe, dread, and disgust. While those sensations were traversing the minds of John and Tom Rainsfield Jemmy Davis stepped forward from amidst the group, and saluted them with the greatest urbanity. But such was his metamorphosis that our friends did not, until he had declared himself by speech, recognise in the painted savage before them an educated and civilized black.

His hair was drawn up to a tuft on the top of his head, and into it had been thrust numerous of the most gaudy parrot and cockatoo feathers. When he walked this top knot acquired an eccentric oscillation, which gave his head the appearance of a burlesque on the plumed cranium of a dignified hearse horse; and was the only part of his ornature that was of a ludicrous character. His forehead was painted a deep yellow; from his eyes to a line parallel to his nose his skin shone with a bright red; while the rest of his face showed its natural dirty brown colour. His body was fancifully marked in white, delineating his ribs; with grotesque devices on his breast and back. His legs and arms were as black as charcoal could make them; and with a necklace of bones and shells, his toilet was complete. It has been facetiously stated that the New Zealander's full dress consists of a shirt collar and a pair of spurs; but Jemmy Davis had no such useless appendages; and, as he stood before his guests in the conviction of his costume being complete, and in the pride of conscious adornment, he never dreamt but that his own self-gratulation was also shadowing their admiration and delight.

In a few minutes John and his companion were left alone; and the corroboree commenced afresh by the resumption of the musical accompaniments, which, as they were peculiar, we may as well describe. We have already said, the gins were squatted on the ground near the circle; and, we may now add, they had composed their ungraceful forms in the oriental fashion. Some of them had their hands half open, or rather their fingers were kept close together, while the palms were made to assume a concave shape, as if for the purpose of holding water. With them in this form they struck them simultaneously on their supine thighs, with a metrical regularity, which made an unearthly hollow noise, and formed the base of their orchestral display. Others of them beat a similar measure on their waddies, or sticks; while the whole burst into a discordant vocal accompaniment, in which they were joined by the men and piccaninies in a dull and monotonous cadence. This was their song; which, to adequately describe, would be impossible. Some idea, however, may possibly be formed of it, when we say that they all commenced in a high mournful key, in which they unintelligibly mumbled their bucolic. On this first note they dwelt for about half a minute; and descended the gamut in the same metre, resting only on the flats, and expending their breath in a prolongation of the last, and deepest, note they could utter; terminating in one eructation something between a grunt and a sigh, or a concentration of the idiosyncratic articulation of the London paviers. And as they dwelt upon this note for about a minute, the combined effects of their mutterings, and the noise of their feet, were not unlike the distant fulmination of thunder.

Their dance too, was conducted totally different to the wild gestures of other savages. The participators in the ceremony, as we have already explained, stood in a semi-circular line. Slightly stooping, they swung their arms backwards and forwards before their bodies, and with their feet beat a measured tread on the ground; while they continued to contract their frames, almost into a sitting posture, and to accelerate their pendulous and stamping motions; until, with an universal convulsion, the last sigh or grunt was expatriated from their carcasses. After a dead stop of some few seconds, with a recommencement of their femoral accompaniment, they erected their bodies with their voices, and proceeded de capo; presenting a scene more like a festival in pandemonium than a congregation of human beings in "this huge rotundity on which we tread."

The feelings of the young men, as they stood and watched this performance, were varied; neither of them had seen a corroboree on so grand a scale before; and they were for a time lost in wonder at an exhibition, which no description can truthfully depict. John was dreaming of the emancipation and improvement of a race, which he believed, could be made to ameliorate their condition; and felt sorrowful that, in the midst of civilisation (with its examples before their eyes, and the inculcations which had been instilled into the nature of one of their number), the blacks should be still perpetuating the emblems of their barbarity and degradation. Tom's meditations were of a different nature; though he advocated kind treatment to them in the intercourses of life, he still believed them an inferior race of sentient beings; if not altogether devoid of the mental attributes of man. He, moreover, thought he read in their manner, despite all the suavity of Jemmy Davis and Dugingi, something that portended evil; and fancied he heard more than once, his own name uttered by them in their song. It might have been only fancy, he thought; but an idea of something premeditated had seized upon his mind, and he could not divest himself of it.

Our young friends by this time, having seen quite enough to satisfy them, and being unnoticed in their position, quietly left the spot; and, having procured their horses, retraced their steps to the river. They there mounted, and having crossed the stream, returned almost silently to Fern Vale, and retired to rest. On the following morning Tom took his leave of his friend; while, almost contemporary with his departure, John's black boys, Billy and Jemmy, presented themselves to resume their former life on the station. We may remark that Billy had by this time perfectly recovered from his castigation, though he, and also his companion, did not fail to stigmatize in very strong, if not in very elegant, or pure English, phraseology, the conduct of Mr. Rainsfield; and as much as insinuated that the tribe were in no very friendly way disposed towards him.

This, John Ferguson was seriously grieved to learn; for he dreaded the consequence of an open rupture between the aborigines and his neighbour. He knew, if the blacks became more than ordinarily troublesome, that Rainsfield would enlist the sympathies of his friends, and his class generally; when blood would inevitably be shed, and the poor natives hunted from the face of the earth. He therefore determined, if he should not see Tom in a day or two, to ride over and call upon Mr. Rainsfield; and while adverting to the treatment received by his black boy from him, warn him of the danger, not only to himself, but to all the settlers in his neighbourhood, by his persisting in his stringent course. With this intention, a few days after the corroboree, not having seen his friend in the interval, he rode over to Strawberry Hill.

As he approached the residence of the Rainsfields, despite his struggles to suppress it, he felt his heart beat high with the anticipation of seeing Eleanor, for the first time since his meeting with Bob Smithers. John had, of late, striven hard to wean himself from what he attempted to believe was his wild infatuation; and thought that he had sufficiently schooled his mind, so as to meet her without the slightest perturbation. But he had deceived himself; and as he approached the house, and felt a consciousness of her proximity, he experienced that strange agitation over which mortals have no control. He, however, determined to avoid giving any outward indication of his mental disquietude, so as not to cause any uneasiness to Eleanor from his visit; and for that purpose he stopped his horse in the bush, before he came within sight, and collected himself into a settled calmness. Having performed this little piece of training he proceeded, and was passing the huts on his way to the house, when he was accosted by Mr. Billing; who informed him that Mr. Rainsfield had desired him to intimate, that if he, Mr. Ferguson, desired to see that gentleman, he would meet him at Mr. Billing's cottage in a few minutes. This request John thought rather singular; but he turned his horse's head to the direction of the cottage, at the door of which he alighted; and, after fastening his horse to the fence, he entered.

"You will no doubt think it exceedingly rude in me, Mr. Ferguson," exclaimed the little man, "to intercept you in your road to the house. Though you perceive me, sir, in a menial capacity, I am perfectly conversant with, as I am also possessed of the feelings of a gentleman; therefore I feel a repugnance, sir, in wounding those feelings in another. You are doubtless aware, sir, we have had another marauding visitation from those insolent savages; and Mr. Rainsfield is not only greatly enraged at them, but has become, sir, extremely irascible and truculent towards myself; and has conceived a notion that you are in some way influencing and encouraging them in their depredations. The pertinacity with which they annoy him, sir, is certainly marvellous; and he is confirmed in the belief that it is in a great measure owing to your instigations; therefore he gave instructions that, in the event of your calling, I should request you to step under my humble roof, while I sent him notice of your presence. This, sir, I have done, so you may expect to see him in a few minutes. I merely mention these circumstances, sir, not in disparagement of my employer; but to account to you for my rudeness, and exonerate myself from the imputation of any voluntary violation of good breeding."

"Pray, don't mention it, Mr. Billing," replied John; "I don't imagine for a moment that you would intentionally commit any breach of decorum, even if the interruption of my passage could be termed such; but I must confess, I can't understand why Mr. Rainsfield should wish to prevent me from calling upon him in his own house." Though John said this, his heart whispered a motive for such interruption.

"I am flattered, sir, by your good opinion," said Mr. Billing, "and I thank you. I believe, sir, you're a native of the colony, and have not visited Europe; but you are a man of the world, sir, I can perceive, and will readily understand the anomalies of my position. I, who have been bred, sir, in the mercantile community of the cosmopolitan metropolis, being subjected to the petty tyrannies of a man, whom I consider mentally my inferior. I am disgusted, sir, with the incongruities of my situation, and harassed by the thought of my trials being shared by Mrs. Billing (who, I assure you, sir, is an ornament to her sex); and the total absence, sir, of all those comforts, which a man who has been in the position I have been in, sir, and who has come to my years, naturally expects, tends to make this occupation distasteful to me."

John, we are ashamed to say (at the moment forgetful of his own) felt amused at the sorrows of the little man; though he smilingly assured him that he thought a man of his evident abilities was thrown away in the bush, and that he believed it would be considerably more to his advantage, if he forsook so inhospitable a pursuit, as that in which he was engaged, for something more congenial to his nature and compatible with his education.

"My dear sir," replied the enthusiastic storekeeper, "I again thank you. I perceive, sir, by your judicious remarks, you are a gentleman of no ordinary discernment. The same idea has often struck me, sir; in fact, I may say the 'wish is father to the thought;' but, unfortunately, 'thereby hangs a tale.' If you have no objection to listen to me, sir, for a few minutes, I will explain the peculiarities of my position."

John having expressed himself desirous of hearing the explanation, Mr. Billing proceeded. "You must know, sir, that after finishing a sound general education at one of the public schools of London (you will forgive me, sir, for commencing at the normal period of my career), my father, who was a medical man of good practice but large family, sent me, sir, to the desk. I, in fact, entered the counting-house of my relatives, Messrs. Billing, Barlow, & Co., of Upper Thames Street, in the city of London, a firm extensively engaged in the comb and brush line, and enjoying a wide celebrity, sir, in the city and provinces. I continued at my post, sir, for years, until I obtained the situation of provincial traveller, which place I continued to fill for a lengthy period. I need hardly say, sir, that in my peregrinations my name was sufficient to command respect from our friends and constituents, who naturally imagined that I must have been a partner in the firm I represented; consequently, sir, my vicissitudes were almost imaginary, and my comfort superior to the generality of commercial travellers. I did not, of course, sir, enlighten the minds of our constituents on their error, the effects of which I every day enjoyed; more especially as the firm, from my long services, had solemnly pledged themselves to receive me into their corporate body as a partner. The mutations of even our nearest relatives, sir, are not to be depended upon; for I found in my experience, that the word of a principal is not always a guarantee. Upon urging the recognition of my claims, I found a spirit of equivocation to exist in my friends; and such conduct not agreeing, sir, with my views of integrity, I uttered some severe strictures on their scandalous behaviour, and withdrew, sir, from the connexion.

"I must remark, sir, that about three years before this event (ah, sir! that was a soft period of my life), I took unto myself an accomplished lady as the wife of my bosom. I had been at great pains and expense, sir, to consolidate our comfort in a nice little box at Brixton; and had been blessed, sir, with two of our dear children. About this time the fame of the Australian El Dorado had spread far and wide; and, after my rupture with my relatives, I was easily allured, sir, from my peaceful hearth to seek my fortune in this land of promise; I say a land of promise, sir, but I impugn not its fair name when I add that if it ever was one to me, it failed to fulfil its obligations. I fear, sir, I am tedious," said Mr. Billing, breaking off in his discourse, "for this is a theme I feel I can dilate on;" but being assured by his companion that he was by no means tiresome, he continued: "I told you, sir, that I had taken great pains and expense to furnish my house at Brixton; and I felt a reluctance to submit it to the hammer, and to sever myself and family from the blissful fireside of our English home. However, sir, avarice is strong in the minds of mortals; and visions of antipodean wealth decided my fate, and caused the sacrifice of my contented home on the altar of Plutus. I had heard that the difficulties of the diggings were insuperable to genteel aspirants after gold; and I, therefore, determined, sir, to be wise in my own generation, and, instead of digging for the precious metal, to open an establishment where I could procure it, sir, by vending articles of every-day use. For this purpose, sir, I invested my capital in stock of which I had had practical experience, that is, in combs and brushes; conjecturing, sir, that they would be articles which most speculators would overlook, and, consequently, be in great demand. In due time, sir, I arrived in the colony with my goods, and lost not a moment unnecessarily in repairing to the diggings. I need not recount, sir, the many difficulties which beset my path; I believe they were common to all in similar circumstances; and you, are no doubt, sir, sufficiently acquainted with such scenes yourself. Suffice it to say, sir, that eventually I reached my destination, and discovered, as we would say in mercantile parlance, that my goods had arrived to a bad market. I assure, you, sir, the horrid creatures who congregated at those diggings, notwithstanding that their heads were perfect masses of hair, disdained, yes, absolutely disdained, sir, the use of my wares.

"I then asked myself what was to be done; and while meditating on a reply, sir, a viper was at hand to tempt me to my ruin. A plausible, well-spoken gentleman, sir, introduced himself to me as a Mr. Black; and proposed that as my goods were of no value on the diggings, but were very saleable in Melbourne, I should take them back and commence business there. He at the same time remarked, sir, that to commence business it would be essential for me to have 'colonial experience;' and doubting if I possessed such an acquirement, he, therefore, begged, sir, to offer his services. He, in fact proposed that he should join me in the undertaking; stating, sir, that through his general knowledge of business, he was convinced that the speculation would succeed; and suggested that we should at once proceed to Melbourne, sir, with my goods. He would embark, he said, his capital in the concern, and purchase an assortment of goods for a general business, which we were to carry on under the name and style of 'Black and Billing.' This he facetiously made the subject of a witticism, by remarking that it would be rendered into 'Black Billy'[A] by the diggers when they visited town; and would of a certainty ensure our success. I must confess, sir, I was taken in by the scoundrel's wiles, and readily entered into his scheme; the result of which is easily related. With the expense of carrying my goods and myself backwards and forwards from the diggings, my spare cash was all but expended; and when, sir, I rejoined Mrs. Billing, whom I had left behind me, sir, in Melbourne, until I should have become settled, I found myself almost penniless. However, sir, although I'm a man of small stature, I am possessed of considerable energy and, therefore, sir, set myself earnestly to work. I soon procured a shop, though with miserable accommodation, and at an enormous rental; but my partner assured me it was no matter, as we would soon reap our harvest. I got my goods, sir, into the place, and shortly afterwards my partner procured an extensive assortment also; when we commenced our business, as I thought, under very favourable auspices. But I soon discovered my mistake; for one fine morning I found Mr. Black had decamped with all the money of the concern, after converting as many of the goods into gold as he could. I then discovered, sir, that the stock he had procured was upon credit, on the strength of that which I had in the place at the time; and finding his defalcations were greater than I could possibly meet, and my creditors being fearful that I would follow his example, I was compelled to relinquish my property to liquidate their claims. I then, sir, found myself not only destitute, but homeless; with my wife and children dependent upon me for their subsistence.

[A] A name applied by the diggers to the tin pot in which they boil their water, as also to black hats.

"I managed, sir, however, to procure employment by driving a cart; and, after saving sufficient money, succeeded in getting round to Sydney, where my wife, sir, had relations. They, sir, promised me assistance, and after a short interval fulfilled their promise by establishing me in a store at Armidale; where I got on, sir, pretty well, and would have succeeded, but for the chicanery of some scoundrels, sir, by whom I lost considerably, and was a second time reduced to labour for a support. Through various vicissitudes, sir, I have come to this, and, you may well imagine, that a man of my sensitive feeling and appreciation of honour, in this menial capacity meets with nothing but disgust and mortification. But, sir, I do not repine; however dark is the horizon of my fate, despair does not enter my mind; the clouds of depression must necessarily some day be removed; and then, sir, the sun of my future will burst forth with a refulgence, the more resplendent from its previous concealment. I desire, sir, in fact it is the fondest wish of my heart, to return to Old England; but at present that cannot be, for means, sir, are wanting; the all potent needful is required; money, sir. But things must improve, they cannot last for ever thus; to think that I, a gentleman, and Mrs. Billing a gentlewoman, should waste our very existence, sir, in this wilderness; banished, sir, from the very intercourse of man; expatriated, sir, from all we hold most dear, and, forsaken, sir, by the society whence we are ostracized. The thought, sir, is harrowing; yes, sir, harrowing beyond measure."

Mr. Billing was now getting pathetic and rather lachrymose; and his confessions might have become of a confidential, and a painful nature, had they not, very much to the relief of our hero, been cut short by the opportune entrance of Mr. Rainsfield, who, when Mr. Billing had left the room, addressed himself to John:

"I must apologize for keeping you waiting, Mr. Ferguson, but I was engaged at the moment I heard of your call; and I thought by your meeting me here it would save you from that pain which, otherwise, your visit might have occasioned you, after the circumstances which transpired when you last favoured us with your company."

"I am particularly indebted to you for your solicitation," replied John; "but I may remark, I had sufficient confidence in myself to feel assured that I would have neither received, nor given any pain in the manner in which I presume you mean. And I may also state that, but for the desire I had to give you some information that may be of vital importance to you, I would have disdained your bidding."

"Then, may I beg to know the object of your call," enquired Rainsfield.

"I have two," replied John, "first I have been informed by one of my black boys that you severely maltreated him; and considering myself aggrieved by the act, as it was the means of depriving me of his services, I beg you to explain the cause for so unwarrantable a procedure."

"I justify my acts to no man," exclaimed Rainsfield, "and recognise no blacks as others than members of their general community; who take upon themselves to perform various acts of aggression. The laws of our country not being potent enough to protect us from their marauding, we do it ourselves; and if you think fit to gainsay our right, you know what course to pursue; and now, sir, for your second object."

"I might with equal justice," said John, "decline to afford you the information I by accident obtained, but I have no desire to show such churlishness, and I believe that by judiciously acting upon it, you may save yourself from some calamity; which I have good cause to believe is impending. My two black boys who left me after your assault on one of them, and who were only persuaded to return after their great corroboree by my conciliating their chief, have informed me, in an imperfect manner, that some overt act of aggression, on the part of the tribe, is meditated; and it is to put you on your guard against this that I have ventured to trouble you with my presence."

"Then it was at that corroboree on the spoliation of my property that you heard this?" exclaimed Rainsfield. "My goods were purloined to feast those imps of darkness, and you lent your presence to grace their proceedings? I always thought you encouraged the villains in their infamies, and I now perceive my suspicions were well founded. However, sir, I am perfectly independent of you, and your so called information. I have decided upon my course of action, and will not therefore trouble you further to interest yourself in my behalf. You will no doubt readily perceive that your presence here at any time would be extremely unpleasant; and I must therefore request that you absent yourself from my house as much as possible. I shall now wish you good day;" saying which Rainsfield quitted the room.

John Ferguson was so taken by surprise at the violent tirade he had just listened to, that he had had no idea of defending himself from an accusation, the manifest absurdity of which merely struck him as contemptuous. But he felt a source of grief at being summarily estranged from the other members of the family; and whatever his feelings had been when he came to the station, he left it with a heavy heart, and returned home to meet the cavalcade, which we have seen in a previous chapter had gone over.

CHAPTER II.

"I have it, it is engender'd: hell and night

Must bring this monstrous birth to the world's light."

Othello, Act 1, Sc. 3.

"Then should I know you by description;

Such garments and such years."

As you like it, Act 5, Sc. 3.

Despite his professed contempt for John Ferguson's information Mr. Rainsfield felt an uneasy apprehension at the growing confidence, and contumacious freedom of the blacks. He even began to doubt if he would be able to maintain his position single-handed against them, and thought seriously of the advisableness of calling a meeting of the surrounding settlers, to organize a league for their mutual protection. But then he remembered the blacks directed all their animus against himself, and it was therefore questionable, he imagined, if he could induce more than two or three of his neighbours to join him; besides which, even they could not constantly be on the alert; while he must, consequently, be frequently open to surprisal. A thought, however, struck him, or rather we should have said, a diabolical idea suggested itself to his mind; and, after cogitating and arguing with himself for some time, he determined to act upon it.

The pestilence, so he mentally soliloquized, had now reached its height, and something must be done; for he was not only robbed of his station supplies, but he was frequently losing even cattle; while, instead of seeing any prospect of amendment, he only perceived that the successes of his despoilers were emboldening them to fresh adventures. He knew that an application to the government for protection was absolutely useless; for they hadn't it to give. It is true he might stir the district to agitate the settlement of a native police detachment in that quarter; but he also knew, even if he succeeded in obtaining such a location, that the force would be necessarily so miserably small as to be perfectly inadequate to the contingencies. (Possibly three or four men stationed in the centre of fifty square miles to protect the scattered population against as many hundred savages.) The idea was preposterous, and he scouted it. No, he thought, he must depend upon himself for protection, and would therefore adopt a line of policy that would check, if not annihilate, the nuisance; while the exigencies of the case would justify him in his measures. Such, then, were the thoughts that passed through the mind of Mr. Rainsfield after his interview with our hero.

He returned to Mr. Billing's cottage after John Ferguson's departure, and accosted his employé in his blandest and most suasive manner. "Mr. Billing," said he, "I am about to enter upon a crusade against the native dogs, which I find are becoming very troublesome to the sheep in the upper part of the run; and, to effectually destroy them, I intend to poison some carcasses to be left for them to make a meal of. I would therefore like you to ride over to Alma, and explain the matter to Mr. Gilbert, the storekeeper there; and procure for me a supply of strychnine and arsenic. I would not trouble you, but you are aware that he would not give it to a shepherd without a request from me; and it is hardly safe to send any of the men. I would be particularly obliged to you if you would undertake the task, as I can confidently depend upon your judgment to prevent any mistake."

This little piece of what the Yankees would designate "soft sawder" on the part of Rainsfield, had the effect, not only of removing any objections his diminutive confidential might have had to such a journey, but of inducing him to acknowledge the compliment in a series of corporeal oscillations; while he replied to the blandishment, in the following strain: "It would afford me, sir, the greatest earthly pleasure to comply with your wishes; even to the considerable personal inconvenience, sir, and bodily suffering of your humble servant; but you must be aware equestrianism sir, is an accomplishment I never deemed it necessary to acquire. During my mercantile career, sir, I was reputed, and I think I may add justly too, sir, one of the best amateur whips in the city of London; and had my transit, sir, to be effected by a vehicular means, I flatter myself, sir, none could accomplish the mission better."

"That I am convinced of," replied Mr. Rainsfield; "but I fear, Mr. Billing, I shall have to defer the pleasure of witnessing your skill in handling the ribbons until I am induced, by the existence of roads, to treat myself and my family to the luxury of a carriage. But, with regard to the journey I have mentioned, I can provide you with a quiet horse; and I have no doubt a man of your various accomplishments will find no difficulty in adding to them the art of riding. In fact, unless you had mentioned it, I would never have imagined but that you were a perfect equestrian; your stature and figure are just such as would show to best advantage on horseback; and, with the constant opportunities which present themselves here, I really am surprised that you don't ride. You know 'it is never too late to mend;' so you must really permit me to persuade you (irrespective of this journey) to commence at once practising the art, and take a regular course of riding. I am convinced you will not only find it pleasant, but beneficial to your health."

"I appreciate your kindness, sir," replied the little man. "As you say, it is never too late to mend, and I really think, sir, it is ridiculous that I should not be able to ride; but the fact is, to be candid, sir, I have always dreaded the first lesson."

"There is really nothing to fear, Mr. Billing," said Rainsfield. "You will find, once on your horse, riding will come natural to you; the only inconvenience you will experience is being at first a little stiff after it."

"When would you desire me to start, if I took this journey?" enquired the would be equestrian.

"Well, I should prefer it at once," replied his tempter. "If you were to start within half an hour you would have at least six hours of daylight; and the distance is only about twenty-five miles, so you could reach the town at your leisure before dark, and return to-morrow."

"I have decided then, sir," exclaimed Mr. Billing; "you may command my services, and I will be at your disposal before the expiration of half an hour."

"That's right, Mr. Billing," replied his superior; "and I'll get a horse in from the paddock for you; and by the way, will you just leave the keys of the store with Mrs. Billing. When you are away I purpose removing all the stores into the house, and have prepared a room for their reception; so if our black visitors should favour us with a call during your absence they will find themselves disappointed."

"Most assuredly, sir, as you desire," replied the quondam commercial; "I will hand the badges of my office into your hands myself, to prevent, sir, the possibility of any mistake:" saying which the two separated; Mr. Billing filed with the importance of his mission, to communicate it to his wife, and obtain her aid in a speedy preparation for his hazardous journey; and his employer, with a complaisant smile of satisfaction on his features, to give instructions for the immediate capture of a steed.

Within the specified time an animal was brought by Mr. Rainsfield up to the door of Mr. Billing's abode duly caparisoned for the journey, and with an old valise strapped upon the saddle. At the same time the adventurous storekeeper also made his appearance; having undergone by the careful assiduity of his wife a perfect transmutation. On his head stood erect a black cylindrical deformity, designated in the vulgar parlance of the colony "a Billy," but which he, while he smiled benignly at the ignorance of the canaille (as he gave it the extra rotary flourish of the brush, while he read "Christy's best London make" in the crown), called a hat; and the only proper head-dress for a gentleman. He was encompassed in a coat of the gigantic order, possessed of many pockets; a garment truly noble to look upon, and one that had done service to its owner in days of yore; when on cold and wet mornings Mr. Billing nestled himself in his wonted position in the Brixton 'bus, to be conveyed to his diurnal bustle in the city. In this habiliment evidences of an affectionate wife's forethought were visible in the protrusion from the pockets of sundry pieces of paper, denoting the occupation of those receptacles by certain parcels; the contents of which, should the reader be anxious to know, we are in a position to disclose.

In the lower pocket on the right hand side, we are enabled from our information (which is from the most reliable source) to inform the curious, was a parcel (thrust by Mrs. Billing with her own hands) enclosing two garments, of a spotless purity, essential for a gentleman's nocturnal comfort. In the contemporary pouch was a package of humbler pretensions, containing sundries to appease a traveller's appetite; while in another was deposited that necessary paraphernalia for a morning's toilet, embraced in the apparatus known as a "gentleman's travelling companion." His legs were encased in trousers that had been brought specially to the light. They were of a questionable colour, something between that of kippered salmon and hard bake; and were strapped down to his feet with such powerful tension that he was threatened every moment with a mishap most awkward in its consequences. When he walked he effected the exercise with a sprightliness that appeared as if galvanic agency was that which had set his nether limbs in motion; and his feet started from the ground at every step with a spring that promised at each evolution the protrusion of some part of his crural members.

In this perfect costume Mr. Billing considered himself adjusted for the road; and construing the smile of amusement that played on the features of Mr. Rainsfield as a mark of affability returned it in his most winning style.

The horse provided for this Gilpin excursion was an animal of no mean pretensions. He boasted of having in his veins some of the best blood of the country, though, now perhaps, that blood was somewhat vapid, and he rather patriarchal. He had served many masters, and performed various duties; from racing to filling the equivocal position of a station and stockman's hack. Though once possessed of a spirit that required a strong arm and determined will to maintain a mastery over, he was now as quiet and subdued as a lamb; although he was as sagacious as most of his riders, and as knowing as any "old hoss" in the country. He had settled into an easy-going stager, that neither persuasion nor force could induce to deviate from the "even tenor of his way;" while his general appearance, at this stage of his life, was long-legged, raw-boned, lean and screwed, with the additional embellishment of being minus his near eye.

Mr. Billing surveyed the beast that was to carry him to Alma with about the same comprehension as a ploughman would contemplate a steam engine; while the horse returned the gaze from the corner of his sound eye, and winked in a manner that might have been interpreted into a request "to wait until he got him on his back." Mr. Billing, however, was perfectly unacquainted with the significance of his horse's looks, and perhaps well for him that he was; for we are convinced, had he known what was in store for him, he would never have risked his valuable person and life on the back of so perverse a dispositioned animal. We have heard that an inclination of the head is equivalent to the closing of one eye to a quadruped whose ocular organs are in a state of total derangement; and we therefore presume that the momentary stultification of our quadruped's vision had the same effect upon our Cockney-born viator as the craniological recognition mentioned in the aphorism would have had on his horse. Consequently, he was in blissful ignorance of the trials that awaited him; and, under the directions of Mr. Rainsfield, he prepared to mount with an alacrity which he prided himself as pertaining to a "city man of business," and which he still retained in his animated anatomy.

For some time he experienced considerable difficulty, in fact he found it absolutely impossible, to so far stretch his limbs as to get one leg high enough from the ground to reach the stirrup; and not until, at the suggestion of his highly-amused employer, his loving spouse produced a chair from the cottage, had he any prospect of reaching the saddle. However, being elevated by the chair, he made a bound on to the back of the steed, but unfortunately with too great an impetus; for he lost his equilibrium in attempting to gain his seat, and measured his length on the ground. This mishap tended to cast a gloom upon his spirits, but he was soon rallied by Mr. Rainsfield, who told him he would be all right when once in his saddle and on the road. Upon a second attempt he exercised more caution, with better success; and, as he seated himself in his saddle bolt upright, he gazed about him, and below him, with a proud consciousness of the elegant symmetry of himself and horse; and doubted not he would, as he then stood, be a prize study for any sculptor. His following remark will not therefore be wondered at.

"As you a few minutes ago affirmed, sir, now that I am possessed of my seat, I do feel myself all right. I experience, sir, a confidence in myself that, if called upon, I could do any equestrian prodigy, even to eclipse the stupendous leap of Martius Curtius; or to perform, sir, any other feat that my destiny may decree."

"I am equally confident in your abilities, Mr. Billing," replied his master; "but I trust they will never be put to so severe a test. I will walk with you to where the roads to Alma and Brompton diverge. It is not more than a mile beyond the Wombi, so, though I can tell you yours is the left hand road, I may as well accompany you to the junction. From that you will have no difficulty in keeping to the track, if you just give the horse his head; for he has been so used to the road that he will know perfectly well where he has to go. You will perceive I have strapped a valise on your saddle; it is for you, when you procure the poisons, to put them into it, and keep them out of harm's way; while it will save you the annoyance and trouble of carrying them."

When they arrived at the spot where the tracks separated Mr. Rainsfield parted from his colleague; and looking after him for a few minutes, until he was lost from view by a turn in the road, he burst into an inordinate fit of laughter, and turned on his heel to retrace his steps. After walking for some time in abstracted silence, apparently absorbed in deep meditation, he suddenly started with the ejaculation, "Yes! by Jupiter, that'll stop them. I expect they won't trouble me much after that."

But while we leave him to his cogitations and silent walk, we will pursue Mr. Billing and accompany him on his ride.

CHAPTER III.

"His horse which never in that sort

Had handled been before,

What thing upon his back had got,

Did wonder more and more."

Cowper

When he departed from his master, as we have described in the last chapter, Mr. Billing went on his way with a joyful heart. But, thinking the slow walking pace of his steed might safely be improved upon; and also considering, that if he could only prevail upon the horse to walk a little faster, it would facilitate his journey amazingly; he commenced a series of exhortations that were excellent adjuncts to the theory which advocates the superiority of persuasion to the application of force, but extremely ineffective in practice, when the subject is a quadruped of rather a stubborn nature, and perfectly ignorant of the vernacular in which he is addressed. Thus, when Mr. Billing endeavoured to accelerate the speed of his animal, by the utterance of such pathetic and endearing appeals, as "now, come along, poor old horsey;" "there's a good old horse;" "ge up;" "now, don't be angry" (as the beast showed signs of uneasiness); "walk a little faster, like a good old horse;" we say we would not have been surprised, had the horse paid no more heed to Mr. Billing's entreaties than we should be likely to do, were we addressed in a lively asinine interpellation, by one of those animals, whose peculiar idiosyncrasies are proverbial. But, strange to say in this case, the horse did notice the requests of his rider. Whether he was an animal of superior discernment, and detected the wishes of Mr. Billing in the tone of that gentleman's appeals; or, whether the intonation sounded to his ears strange and novel, and stimulated him with a desire to accommodate the applicant; or, whether he himself became anxious to reach his destination, to realize his visions of a stable and a feed, we cannot venture to say. But we simply record the fact, that Mr. Billing's request to the "old horse" was complied with; and the quadruped went off in a step, which was an incongruous mixture of a shambling walk, a canter, and a trot.

That fable of the frogs, who in answer to their prayer for a king, obtained a carnivorous monarch of the aves genus, has no doubt been forcibly impressed on the memories of our readers during their scholastic probation. They will readily, then, understand the feelings of Mr. Billing, when he imprecated his rashness for disturbing the equanimity of his horse's pace; and we are convinced that the animals in the apologue never prayed more fervently for a discontinuance of their visitation than he did for an alleviation of his misery. All his "woa's," and "stop old horse's," were perfectly unavailing; the quadruped proceeded without the slightest notice, and with the greatest unconcern. But the torment to the biped was dreadful. What was he to do? He had uttered the talismanic syllable, that had called up the spirit; while he was not possessed of the power to exorcise it. His agony of body, was only equalled by that of his mind. He remembered Mr. Rainsfield had said the animal never went out of one step; and if that in which he then was should be the step, which he would of a necessity continue during the whole of the journey, what would become of him? The thought was horrible and insuperable; but he, Mr. Billing, the quondam pride of Thames Street, could not answer it; and in a stoical distress of mind he gave vent to a sigh, which seemed to jolt out by inches the centre of his little fastidious anatomy. He a thousand times wished himself back again, safe alongside the partner of his bosom; when no power on earth should persuade him to submit again to so ignoble a position and spectacle, as a ride on horseback. But something must be done, he thought; for as the horse proceeded in his jogging step, so did Mr. Billing continue to be battered by his jolting.

The unfortunate equestrian was a perfect picture of distress. At every step of the animal, he was almost bounded from his seat. He could not speak, for the breath was almost shaken out of his body; while he dared not look around for fear of losing his equilibrium. He had also lost his hold of the bridle, which he dropt on the horse's neck; while he seized the pommel of the saddle for his further security, with the air and grasp of a resolute man who preferred even torture to the indignity of being unseated.

What Mr. Billing's appearance was, when he was undergoing this ordeal, our readers who have witnessed a first riding lesson can easily imagine; and would, no doubt, were they witnesses of the scene, be ready to laugh at the victim's sufferings as we penitently confess ourselves to have done. Our friend's torture, however, continued as he turned over in his mind the best means of obtaining relief. If he should be so far fortunate as to meet any one in the road who would kindly stop the refractory animal, he thought, how grateful he would be; but of that he feared there was little chance. A thought, however, struck him and suddenly illumined his perturbed spirit. Why could he not stop him himself? It never occurred to him before, but now he experienced a gleam of hope; he thought, if he could but pull the bridle, the animal would cease his torturing career. But then how was he to effect this? If he relinquished his hold, he might lose his seat; however, he determined to try, and, summoning all his energies to his aid, he suddenly relaxed his grasp of the saddle, seized the bridle, and gave it as violent a tug as his strength would permit. His object, however, was not gained; for in his avidity to stop the horse he had pulled on the one side of the bridle, and his Rosinante, instead of slackening his speed to the desired pace, turned his head and looked Cyclops-like at his rider, in a way that said as plainly as looks could: "What is it you want?" But we have already stated that Mr. Billing was not versed in the significance of horse's looks, so he understood it not; but continued to tug with a violence that threatened his own downfall, and the dislocation of the quadruped's jaw.

Servants, however industrious and painstaking, may sometimes find it difficult with petulant employers to ascertain the precise wishes of their superiors; and not unfrequently have we witnessed some truculent master abusing his menials for an act, the very nadir of which had previously met with his disapprobation; leaving the abusees in a state of doubt as to what really were the desires of "the master." In the same way was the horse in our narrative. He turned his head in the direction indicated by Mr. Billing's tug; and finding it still continued, he followed with his whole body; and, possibly under the impression that he was required to return home in the same leisure trot, he commenced a retrogression. That was not, however, what his rider required, at least while his journey was unaccomplished; for though, for his personal comfort, he devoutly desired it, such a course of action could not be thought of. Mr. Billing was a man of honour, and volunteered to perform the duty; had even pledged his word; while his respected master had told him that he relied upon his good judgment; therefore, was such a confidence to be misplaced, and his integrity to be called into question? "Never!" Mr. Billing mentally ejaculated; even if his life were to be sacrificed in an expenditure of sighs. An imputation of such a dereliction had never been cast upon the name of Billing, and should he be the first to disgrace the family? He mentally replied with an emphatic and forcible negative, and tugged away with increased energy at the bridle he continued to hold in his hand.

It is needless to say the horse became bewildered at the manœvering of his rider. He had never experienced such treatment before, and could not comprehend its meaning. He stopped; the tugging continued. He turned again, and the tugging ceased. He thus discovered the desire of his director; and being at the time somewhat accommodatingly disposed, he proceeded at a snail-paced ambulation. Our readers will have by this time discovered that Mr. Billing's Rosinante was an animal of rather a peculiar temperament; and will therefore be prepared to hear that, having gained some experience of the style of individual on his back, he gave evidences of a disposition which caused no little uneasiness to the sensitive mind of the Strawberry Hill Mercury. This highly to be deprecated perversity, displayed itself in various "little games" of his own, which were performed with a degree of nonchalance highly edifying to an admirer of coolness, though extremely alarming to our friend. Some of the most salient we may mention, were, grazing in the bush at the side of the track; rubbing himself against the trees; taking erratic turns in search of water-holes; and finally stopping altogether.

This trial was worse than all, and brought Mr. Billing's patience to a culminating point. That the poor animal should desire a drink he thought in no way extravagant; but to coolly stand still, and decline any further progression, was the height of assumption; which even he could not tolerate. He therefore grew importunate in his demands for locomotion; and vibrated his legs like pendulums, while he shouted in a voice that betrayed anger. He again seized the bridle, and tugged away with equal violence as before, only varying the operation by pulling alternately, one side, and the other. Under this, or some unaccountable influence, the horse regained his amiability, and returned to the road; and, moreover, took the right direction for Alma; which, though at a pace by no means so fast as Mr. Billing could desire, yet in one which he thought preferable to that, the inconveniences of which he had had such tangible proof. However, he now jogged on at his leisure, and would doubtless have continued to have done so without any further adventure, had he not been disturbed from his equanimity by the unmistakeable sounds of an approaching bullock dray. The idea of meeting this threw him into a perfect state of perplexity, and he therefore thought of getting off the track to allow it to pass; but how to guide his perverse animal he knew not. The sounds came nearer, but his horse paid no attention to his admonitions; so, with visions of being gored to death by bullocks, he relinquished the contest with his animal, and gave himself up for lost.

The dray slowly dragged its course along, and approached within sight of our adventurous friend; when its companions, amused at the figure before them, halted their team to have a little conversation with one whose appearance was truly enough to excite their risibility. Mr. Billing's horse, in like manner, aware that it was expected of him to halt, also did so; and the individual, who officiated as driver to the team, addressed the equestrian in the following easy style of familiarity:

"I say, mate, don't you think you'd better get inside?"

The force of this coarse joke was duly appreciated by the utterer's travelling companions; though it was entirely lost upon our friend, who gazed in mute astonishment at his questioner. While he indulges in this visual inspection, we will crave permission to make a slight digression, for the purpose of describing the parties thus unceremoniously introduced to the reader's notice.

The driver of the dray, and the individual who had addressed Mr. Billing, was a man of ordinary stature; slight in make, and past the meridian of life. His features were sharp; his hair was tinged with gray; his eyes were of the same colour, and somewhat sunken in his head; on his chin and lip was hair of about a week's growth, having very much the appearance of a worn-out scrubbing brush, and of quite as course a texture. He was clad in the usual bushman's style, and carried the long whip of his order. At his side walked a young man, in appearance and manner a considerable improvement on the old one; and high upon the laden dray were perched two females. One was an old dame with features of the nut-cracker cast, and apparelled with an evident desire to combine in her person all the prismatic hues. Her more juvenile companion, while emulating the same laudable disposition, was certainly superior in looks to her, in the same proportion as the young man was to the old. The appearance of the whole party was such as proclaimed them at once, to the practised eye of Mr. Billing, to be of a class having no pretensions to gentility; though there was an air about them of careless freedom and easy comfort that, to him, ill accorded with their position. He had satisfied himself on this point, by his scrutiny, when he ventured to reply to the before mentioned remark of the old man by making the following observation:

"May I be permitted, my good sir, to enquire the nature of the expression you just made use of? I presume you must have spoken in metaphor."

"Not a bit, old cock," replied the man, "I guess I spoke in English. You didn't seem to enjoy travelling that ere way, so I just axed you if you'd get inside."

"And pray, sir, what did you mean by that?" asked Mr. Billing, whose choler began to rise at what he considered the rude insolence of his interrogator.

"Oh! nothing," replied the young man, who saw that their new acquaintance was likely to be a little irascible, "my father was only joking."

"And pray, young man," said Mr. Billing, "is not your father aware that it is a gross breach of decorum his attempting to pass his jokes off on a gentleman? eh, sir?"

"Certainly," replied the young fellow, "he is quite aware of it, but he has got such a way of joking with people that he does it all the same with friends and strangers; and I have no doubt he could not resist the temptation of having a slap at you, when he saw so elegant a rider and gentleman."

This attempt of the young witling, while it highly amused the various members of the travelling menage, pacified Mr. Billing; who failed to perceive any irony in it; and, addressing the elder of the party with his usual suavity, he said, "May I be so bold as to enquire sir, the point of your destination? As I am not aware of the expectation of any one at our place, I presume you are bound for our neighbours at Fern Vale?"

"No, we ain't, old fellow," replied the party addressed, "we are going to our own place, t'other side of Fern Vale. I 'spose you don't know us? My name's Sawyer, and this 'ere chap's my son: that there's my old woman on the dray; and our gal alongside on her. I've bought a run on the Gibson river, and am going to settle on it now. So, as you know all about us, take a 'ball,' and tell us who you are." With which he handed to Mr. Billing a bottle, containing some alcoholic fluid; and took out his pipe which he inserted between his teeth, and made to give forth a whistling sound, to satisfy himself upon the non-obstruction of the passage, preparatory to replenishing it with the weed.

Mr. Billing having smelt the contents of the bottle, which had rather a rummy odour, returned it to old Sawyer with the remark: "You really must excuse me, sir, for I invariably make it a rule to abstain from spirits in the middle of the day, and never at any time drink them raw."

"We can give you water old 'bacca' breeches, if you like it best that way," replied Sawyer, sen.

"Not any, I thank you," said Billing, "I would prefer, I assure you, sir, to be excused; at the same time I value your kind attention."

"Well, here's luck to you, old feller," said the other, as he took a pull at the bottle. "I don't believe in watering grog, it spoils good liquor. But I say, old cock, who are you?"

"I, sir," said Mr. Billing, not exactly relishing this unceremonious style of questioning, and with difficulty suppressing his indignant ire, at being so vulgarly addressed by a low-minded besotted man. "I, sir," he repeated, "am Mr. James Billing of Strawberry Hill, and late of the firm of Billing, Barlow, & Co., of the city of London." He said this with the air of a man who would strike his interrogator with a sense of that forwardness that could prompt so rude a query as that which had been made by the head of the Sawyer family; and as one resolved to maintain the honour of his position, and claim that respect which was due to him as the representative of that class which is the acknowledged source of England's greatness; viz., the mercantile community.

"I 'spect Strawberry Hill ain't yourn?" said Sawyer, unmindful of the reproof conveyed in the tone and language of Mr. Billing. "I believe it belongs to a chap of the name of Rainsfield, don't it?"

"Mr. Rainsfield is the proprietor of the station, sir," replied Billing, "and I am his confidential assistant."

"Oh, the 'Super?' I suppose," exclaimed the other.

"No, sir," replied our friend, "his accountant."

"Oh, I see," cried the old man, as the nature of his interlocutor's position flashed across his mind, "the storekeeper, that's all, eh? and where are you going now, mate?"

"I can't see, sir," replied Mr. Billing, "how that can interest you in the slightest degree. I am not called upon to submit to your catechising; you must be perfectly aware that your questions are bordering on the impertinent; and but that I am a man of peace, I would resent your inquisitiveness, sir, as an insult."

"My father meant no offence, sir," said the young man, while his parent gave vent to his amusement in a prolonged whistle, "it is only his way."

"And a most unwarrantable way too, sir," said the now irate commercial man.

"You need not get your rag out, old fellow," said the senior Sawyer, "if you can't take a bit of chaff you oughtn't to live in the bush."

"Of that, sir, I'm the best judge," replied the indignant Billing. "No man is justified in offering chaff, as you call it, to a gentleman; more especially when the parties are perfect strangers. I made no rude and inquisitive remarks to you; and am surprised that you should have ventured to utter them to me."

"Well, old fellow," said the other, "I ain't agoing to quarrel with you no how, so if you don't mean to tell us where you're going, why, you can just please yourself."

"That, sir, I intend to do," replied Mr. Billing; "so, if you have no further enquiries to make, we may just as well part company."

"All right, old chap," said Mr. Sawyer, "we'll go;" and while he put his team in motion, with his whip, he imparted a slight titillation to the flanks of Mr. Billing's horse, which caused that eccentric animal to go off in the step most torturing to his rider, amidst the united cachinnations of the Sawyer family.

Mr. Billing experienced a return of all his former horrors; but his efforts this time to reduce his horse to a tractable obedience were fruitless; the animal persisted in keeping to his own pace, notwithstanding the various tugs, bridle sawings, admonitions, and solicitations of our disconsolate equestrian. He was fain at last to give up the contention, and submit to his fate; and, be it mentioned to his commendation, he bore his torture to the end of his journey with a degree of fortitude perfectly astounding.

It was night when the horse stopped in front of the "Woolpack" inn, at Alma, and well was it for Mr. Billing's sensitiveness that it was so; for it saved him from the cruel jeers and laughter of the unsympathising ignoramuses who would have been sure to have made his misfortunes a subject for merriment. He was aroused from the abstraction of his calm resignation by the cessation of motion; and he perceived, with a lively joy, that his troubles were for the time at an end. How he got down from his saddle we are as ignorant as he was himself; though we can affirm that he scrambled off in such a manner as to bring himself to the ground in a prostrate position. Upon recovering from his surprise, after carefully brushing the dust from his apparel, he noticed that his horse, who was apparently well acquainted with the locale of the place, had entered the yard, and was standing at the stable door, waiting with an exemplary patience to be admitted. Leaving him there, to be attended to by the proper authority, our friend entered the house with a step somewhat resembling the progression which, is to be assumed, would be that of an animated pair of compasses. He was met in the passage of the hostel by an individual of the masculine gender, who, with a sardonic grin, asked him "if that 'ere 'oss what was in the yard belonged to him;" and being answered in the affirmative, and that the repliant desired to be shown to the coffee-room, and required supper and a bed, he remarked, "I suppose you come from Mr. Rainsfield's? I know'd his old 'oss the moment I seed him, and he knows us as well as he does his master."

"Indeed!" replied Mr. Billing, "it's very probable, my good fellow; but I have no desire to enter into a discussion with you respecting the merits or acquaintances of the animal. I would be exceedingly obliged to you if you would show me to my bed-room, and let me have some supper as soon as possible."

"I don't think you've been much used to a riding of 'orses, sir," said the cool stable functionary, as he eyed our travel-worn friend from apex to base. But Mr. Billing was too indignant to answer him. He really thought that all the vagabonds in the country had conspired to insult him, and he determined to submit to their contumelies no longer; so, turning round upon his questioner, with a look of indignant scorn, he said:

"I'll suffer no impertinence from you, sir, and I have to request you'll refrain from indulging in any further offensive remarks and queries, sir. If you are the landlord of this hostlery, sir, you are evidently unacquainted with your business; and if you are a servant in the establishment be good enough to inform your master that I desire to speak to him."

"All right, sir," replied the man, "if you want to see the gov'ner I'll tell him." Saying which, the facetious servant took his departure with an evident risible excitement.

In a few minutes the landlord himself made his appearance; and received Mr. Billing's order, and complaint against the domestic, with as much indifference as if they were matters not worth noticing; and without deigning any acknowledgment or reply beyond that which he put to his visitor in the following words.

"Do you want anything to drink?"

"Not at present, I thank you," replied the urbane son of commerce; "I desire first to have something to eat."

"Oh! then you'll have to wait," replied the landlord, "for we don't cook meals at this time of night."

"Well, my good friend," replied Mr. Billing, "I don't wish to inconvenience you, and your household; but I am perfectly voracious, and desire something solid. I am not fastidious and would be content with something cold, if your larder contains such."

"No, we ain't got nothing cold," replied the master of the "Woolpack;" "we never keep it:" and with a grunt this specimen of politeness left the room.

The unfortunate Mr. Billing was now subject to another species of annoyance; and we verily believe, had he not been the personification of patience, he would have been perfectly driven to distraction. Though shouts of revelry, and indications of drinking, emanated from the bar, he was not surprised or disturbed, for he expected it; but he heard sounds in the passage as of suppressed laughter, accompanied by stifled expressions in a strong Hibernian dialect. Whether the utterance was by male or female, it was difficult to conjecture; but Mr. Billing's doubts (if he had had any on the subject) were soon put to rest, for he plainly discerned the frontispiece of a biped; which, by the manner of arranging its natural scarlet covering, plainly proclaimed itself as belonging to the order of feminine. The features displayed a broad grin; and an inquisitive glance met that of our friend, as he stood facing the door. The head was hastily withdrawn when its owner perceived it had been noticed; but a laugh succeeded its withdrawal, and another cranium was protruded into the aperture, and retired in its turn with a laugh, to make way for another.

Mr. Billing submitted to this scrutiny with the assumed fortitude of a stoic; and attempted to allay his rising ire, and deceive his perturbed spirit, by whistling one of the favourite airs from Norma. Now, Mr. Billing prided himself upon the accomplishment of whistling; for he did consider it an accomplishment, notwithstanding that some people call it vulgar. He had given it his study; and when in the height of conviviality, when he was at any time induced to favour his friends with a specimen of his art, he would throw his whole soul into the performance, and remain an unconscious spectator of passing events until the last note of his Æolian melody died away amid the vociferous plaudits of his friends. He therefore, on this occasion, resolved to indulge in a little music to save himself from a knowledge of the annoyance of the menials' gaze, and to show them his utter contempt both for them and their unparalleled rudeness. With his eyes, then, firmly fixed upon a cleanly-dispositioned fly on the canvas ceiling of the room, as it was going through various crural manipulations on its cranium, he warbled forth a stanza in his most enchanting strain; so exquisitely sweet as to have softened the hearts of heathens had they been present. At least so says Congreve, in his oft-used sentiment, such is the opiate influence of phrygian chords on unsophisticated natures; but in the auditory of Mr. Billing it was otherwise. They possessed no taste for music, and only greeted his performance with screams of laughter.

Human nature could not quietly submit to this fresh indignity, and Mr. Billing advanced with undisguised chagrin, and banged the door upon the sounds of retreating merriment. He was annoyed, disgusted, and ill at ease; and mentally made a resolution to get out of the place as speedily as possible, and never to darken the door again. It was fully an hour before his expected repast was put upon the table; and with a disturbed spirit, and body racked with pains of unutterable puissance, he partook of his meal and early sought the consolation of his pillow.

On the following morning he habited and arranged himself with punctilious neatness; and waited upon Mr. Gilbert, the principal or rather the only storekeeper in the town, for the purpose of obtaining the articles required by Mr. Rainsfield. Upon his procuring these he arranged them in the valise prepared for them, and settled his reckoning at the inn previous to taking his departure. At his desire the horse was brought to the door; and, being provided with a chair, he effected a mounting with less difficulty than on the previous day. But his trials were not yet at an end; for not only the whole inmates of the Woolpack inn, but almost the entire population of the township (some hundred people), assembled en masse to witness the start of the potent personage. The horse was set in motion by an admonitory application of a stick by one of the bystanders, which started him off in the step which was the dread of our friend; while he was hailed on all sides with a deafening cheer and shouts of laughter, which rung in his ears for some distance on his journey.

CHAPTER IV.

"What dire offence from amorous causes springs,

What mighty contests rise from trivial things."

Pope.

We last left John Ferguson returning to Fern Vale after his interview with Mr. Rainsfield; and he had reached his home, and had actually dismounted from his horse, before the merry laugh of his sister roused him from his reverie. When Kate and the rest of the party had reached the house, they were surprised to find John absent; the more so as they were informed he had ridden over in the morning to Strawberry Hill. They certainly had not passed him on the road, and they thought there was no probability of his having been diverted from his purpose; they therefore could not understand where he had got to, though they agreed the best thing they could do was to await his return.

William had taken them all over the place, and through the house that was only waiting the arrival of the furniture, to claim its pretty little visitor as its mistress; and the party were just emerging from the building, when Kate spied her brother John approaching, apparently absorbed in deep thought, and perfectly deaf to the sound of the voices of herself and her friends. When she, however, saw him alight from his horse, at the huts a short distance off, and perceived that he was perfectly abstracted, she could restrain her spirits no longer, and ran laughingly to throw herself in his arms. It was at this moment, that John Ferguson was made alive to the fact that his home had been honoured by the visit of his friends; and he advanced to meet his sister, and greeted her with a fond inosculation, as a token of fraternal affection.

We do not approve of the constant eduction of scenes of affectionate union, where the thoughts, contemplations, and utterances, the spontaneous ebullitions of love, are dragged before the gaze of all. We deem them at all times too sacred to be made subject to the comments and criticism of uninterested parties; and therefore, in the case of Kate's meeting with her brother, would beg to draw a veil over the scene, and wait, in the resumption of our apologue, until they join their friends.

The various greetings and congratulations were soon ended; and Tom Rainsfield commenced the general conversation by asking of his friend:

"What on earth became of you, John? When we arrived here we were told you had gone over to our place; but you had not been there before we left, and if you had gone by the track we should have met. I suppose you were emulated with a desire for discovery, and attempted to find a short cut through the bush, eh?"

"No indeed," replied John, "I kept to the road; but, I imagine, I must have been at Strawberry Hill just before you started, for, as I was coming up to the house, I saw saddled horses at the door. I was called in by Mr. Billing as I was passing his cottage, as he said he desired a little conversation with me; so I presume that, owing to that circumstance, I missed you."

"What could have induced that inordinate old humbug," continued Tom, "to have drawn you into his den? I suppose to tell you all about his family affairs."

"Yes," replied John, "he certainly did treat me to a long dissertation on his misfortunes in life; the greatest of which was his coming to the colony, and which appears, prima facie, to be the head and front of his offending."

"But didn't you ask for us?" enquired Tom; "or did you see my brother? and did he not tell you that we had gone over to your place?"

"I did see Mr. Rainsfield," said John, "but to tell you the truth, I did not go up to the house."

"And you didn't even ask for me?" enquired Mrs. Rainsfield. "I could hardly have believed in such thoughtlessness in any of my friends, and especially in you. Pray, sir, will you make some explanation? I am almost inclined to be angry with you. But, as we intend to retain possession of your sister for some time, we shall demand of you, as penance; a constant attendance upon us at 'The Hill.'"

"I fear, my dear Mrs. Rainsfield," replied John, "I must decline to enlighten you on my remissness; and I am afraid also I shall prove a refractory penitent; for, in the first place, I think it highly improbable that I shall have the pleasure of visiting Strawberry Hill again; at least for a time. And I must take an early opportunity of relieving you of the protection of Kate."

"What does the man mean?" exclaimed his good-natured lady visitor, in mock astonishment. "Am I to understand that you not only refuse to come and see us, but that you are churlish enough to desire to seclude your sister with yourself in mutual confinement? You are really becoming perfectly mysterious, John Ferguson. I do not understand all this, and must insist upon a solution. Tell me, now," continued she, as she went smilingly up to him, "what is it that makes you estrange yourself from us, and studiously avoid our society? I think I can read you better than to ascribe it to that little fracas at our pic-nic."

"I do not wish to pain you, my dear madam," replied Ferguson, "by making an explanation that I am confident will be extremely disagreeable to you; rather let me remain as I am, and retain your esteemed friendship, and believe me I have good cause for absenting myself from your house."

"Nay, I will not be satisfied with that," replied Mrs. Rainsfield, "you are only intensifying my curiosity by endeavouring to evade my demand; something has occurred, I am sure, to make you so determined in your avoidance of us; and I must know what it is. If you decline enlightening me on the subject I must seek information from Mr. Rainsfield, or Eleanor; so you had better make a virtue of necessity, and tell me at once."

"I had much rather the subject had not been broached," said John; "but, as you are determined to know the cause of my elimination, I suppose I must communicate what I would sooner have buried in oblivion. It appears that your husband has formed some prejudice against me, the cause of which I am unable to account for. I accidentally learnt from my black boys that some espionage, in connexion with your station, was meditated by the Nungar tribe; and I took an early opportunity of going over to Strawberry Hill to apprise Mr. Rainsfield of the fact. He received me with marked coolness, for what reason I am at a loss to conjecture; and actually accused me of exercising an incentive influence over the tribe to his detriment. I would willingly believe that he has formed some misconception of my actions; but to impute such a motive to me is simply ridiculous. He loaded me with invective, and wound up his inflammatory tirade by requesting that I would discontinue my visits to his house; and before I recovered from my surprise I found myself alone; though, even if he had remained, I question if I should have succeeded in disabusing his mind, for he seemed in no disposition to listen to reason. I have no doubt but that he will very soon discover his error; but until then, you will perceive, Mrs. Rainsfield, it is utterly impossible that I can pay my respects to you at 'The Hill;' and it would also, under the circumstances, be highly inconsistent in Kate stopping longer with you than can be helped."

"I am truly grieved," replied the lady, "to hear of your rupture with my husband, Mr. Ferguson; it gives me great pain, I can assure you. I can't think he can be prejudiced against you, for he always entertained the highest esteem for you. It is possible he may have formed some erroneous impression with regard to those horrid blacks; but, whatever is the cause of the ill feeling, I will endeavour to dispel it; and have your friendship reestablished upon the old footing. But, in the meantime, it is impossible that you can take Kate away from us; you can't put her into an empty house, and you certainly would not have the cruelty to lodge her in those huts of yours. You must leave her with us, at least until you have made a comfortable home for her; and even then, I don't think the poor girl will have a very enviable life, living in seclusion, without a female near her."

"I have already thought of that," replied John, "and have hired a man and his wife; the latter, who is a professed cook, will be entirely under Kate's direction. Besides, our little black fellow, Joey, whom we brought from New England with us, is as useful, if not more so, as half the female servants in the country. So I think, on that score, we will be able to make our sister perfectly comfortable."

"At all events," said Mrs. Rainsfield, "it is understood you leave her with us until your furniture arrives."

"Very well," replied John, "I suppose it must be so. I need not beg of you to refrain from mentioning to any one in your house, not even to Kate, that any unpleasantness exists between our families; your own good judgment will convince you of the non-necessity. But suppose we join our friends, for we appear to have wandered quite away from them during our conversation;" and John Ferguson, and Mrs. Rainsfield, returned to the spot where the rest of the party stood.

"Well, it is to be hoped you two are satisfied with your 'confidential,'" remarked Tom, as the parties thus addressed joined the menage. "We were beginning to think you were meditating an elopement, and were just proposing giving you chase. We are agitating the question of return. Miss Ferguson says she does not like this dreadful wilderness of yours, John, and is anxious to get back to Strawberry Hill, and within the bounds of civilisation."

"Oh, what a dreadful falsehood!" cried Kate, "you know I never said such a thing; for that I am half disposed to stop here at once, and if I thought it would be any punishment to you, I would. I am sure my brother would make room for me if I desired it."

"I offer an abject apology, my dear Miss Ferguson," exclaimed the culprit; "we could not dream of losing you now; so I will make any reparation necessary to appease you."

"Well, then behave yourself, sir, and adhere to the truth," said Kate.

"I think, my dear," said Mrs. Rainsfield, "we really had better return, or it will be dark before we get home; so if Tom did not read your thoughts, his fib suggested an expediency." Kate now took leave of her brother; and Mrs. Rainsfield, she, and Tom mounted their horses, and departed; the latter turning in his saddle as he left the station, called out to John, "I'll be over in the morning;" and the party were speedily lost to sight.

Mr. Wigton and the brothers turned into the hut, and were soon engaged in a conversation, which, though interesting to themselves, it is unnecessary for us to follow. Towards the close of the evening as they sat before their hut, the brothers enjoying their pipes over the fire that was boiling the water for the infusion of the temperate beverage that graced their board at the evening meal; and while Joey, who officiated in the culinary department, was preparing the repast in the interior of the domicile, the dray that we have met already on the road from Alma, was seen to wind slowly off the face of the ridge and down the vale to the creek that ran through it. Here it stopped, while the driver seemed to hold an altercation with his companions, and appeared to be undecided as to some course they were meditating.

"Who are those people, William?" said his brother. "Where on earth can they be going? Just step down and see; for they must surely have gone out of their way, and find themselves now at a stand still."

William walked down to the spot where the dray had halted; and returned in a few minutes with the information, that the travellers were on their way to take possession of a "run" one of the party had bought, on the river below their own place, from Bob Smithers; and stated that he had told the fellow that he might camp where he was, and go over and form his station on the following day; he had also invited him to come up to the hut in the evening and smoke his pipe, which the man had promised to do. His name, William said, was Sawyer; and he appeared to be an individual who had not been blessed with either much cultivation or education. "He is," said William, "a regular specimen of an old hand, and I expect has seen much service."

In the course of the evening Mr. Sawyer made his appearance with his "old woman," as he familiarly designated his wife, and daughter. The family was unaltered in appearance since we last introduced it to the reader; and while the females took their seats on two stools, provided for them by the Fergusons, in a stiff and formal manner which they intended for a distinguishing mark of good breeding, the old man threw himself down on the grass before the fire. After collecting a few sticks, and throwing them on himself, he lit his pipe with a "fire stick," and commenced the following conversation; which he continued between the intervals of his smokey eructations.

"I suppose you ain't been here long, mate," said he, addressing John; "you look as if you had newly settled, and the country here can't have been long taken up."

"It is true," replied John, "we have not been resident here very long, not yet twelve months. My brother tells me you have purchased the block of country below us; may I ask if you are about to stock it?"

"Well, I ain't agoing to do nothing else. You see I have got my dray down there with my rations, and traps; and I am now going over to fix upon a place for my station, and put up some huts and yards. We have bought our stock on the 'Downs,' and my other son is there now, waiting for me to go back, to be there while the sheep are drafted. We must get a place up first to put the old woman and the girl in, and then we will look after the stock."

"But," said William, "you surely are not going to leave your wife and daughter alone, while you go back to the Downs for your flocks? It can't be your intention to leave them unprotected, in this part of the bush? Are you aware of the freedom of the blacks here?"

"No," replied Sawyer, "I don't know much about the blacks in these parts; 'cos I ain't seen much of them yet; but I know just exactly what they were on the Hunter twenty years ago; and I be sure they arn't worse here than they were there; and my old woman has had as much to do with them as me. Do you think I am afraid to leave her by herself? Lord bless you, sir; my word! she is 'all there' to take care of herself; and in her own house I'll back her against any dozen white men and any fifty blacks."

"You are quite at liberty," said John, "if you like, after you have built your huts, to leave your wife and daughter and your stores and things here to await your own return."

"I am obliged to you, young man," exclaimed old Sawyer; "but I'd rather leave them at our own station, and I reckon they would rather stop there themselves; besides if I built my huts, and then left them, the blackguardly blacks would most likely burn them."

"Well, Mr. Sawyer, you can please yourself," replied John, "but you are quite welcome to make use of our place if you like."

"All right, sir," replied he addressed, "I've no doubt; but you see I've no fear of my old woman being alone, so I shall just leave her to bide until I come back. Howsomdever we shan't be long away, and I don't think I shall be so lucky as to find, when I do come back, that anybody has run away with her."

"I trust, Mr. Sawyer," continued John, "you may have no cause to reprehend yourself for your confidence in your wife's ability to protect herself and her daughter; and, if we can be of any service to them, I trust you will make no scruple in commanding us; for we desire to live on terms of amity with our neighbours, and it is essential to be mutually obliging at times."

"In course, young fellow; you are a brick, so give me your hand," cried the head of the Sawyer family, as he started to his feet, "we must have a nobbler on the strength of that;" saying which he abstracted a bottle from the breastine recesses of his garments, and handed it to John, who called to Joey to bring some pannikins and water.

"I must apologize," said he, "for not offering you a glass of grog myself before this; but, to tell you the truth, we have not got any on the station, and here we don't usually drink it; but to keep you company, I don't mind taking a small drop."

The bottle was handed to Mr. Wigton, William, and the women in succession; the two former of whom declined, and the latter partook; while the dispenser himself filled out a jorum for his personal libation, and drank success to himself, and the world generally, in that comprehensive aphorism which seemed to him to answer for all occasions; viz., "here's luck." He felt disappointed, however, when, upon a second presentation of the "homiletical stimulator," he found no one to join him, and he remarked with an apparent degree of truth:

"Why, I never did see fellers like you refuse good liquor. I can't think how you can do it; for my part, I'm blow'd if I ever do: it's a sin."

"Don't you think, my good man," said Mr. Wigton, "it's rather a sin to indulge too freely in its use? If you do not think so, I can assure you that it is; to say nothing of the moral degradation of the drunkard, the lavish squandering of your means, and the injury to your health."

"Lor' bless you, sir," replied Sawyer, "I never felt the worse of my liquor. I might ha' been a bit drunk now and then, but what's the odds of that? I get all right again in a giffey; I wouldn't give a snuff for a fellow that couldn't take his grog, and get drunk now and then like other men. When I was an overseer on the Hunter some years ago, a mate of mine and me got two gallons of rum up to my hut, to have a spree one night. One of my fellows, who was an assigned 'un, was a decent cove, though he never spoke to the other men, 'cos he thought hisself a real gent. Well I pitied this coon; and seeing him that evening, I asked him if he'd come up to my hut, and have 'a ball' or two with us; but bless you, he flew into a pelter, and called us all sorts of names, because, he said, we wanted to make beasts of ourselves; just as if having a bit of a spree, was making of beasts of ourselves, and as if we hadn't a right to drink our own grog. Well, thinks I, you are a chicken; but I lets him 'ave his own way; and what do you think, sir? He took to bush-ranging and was hanged. Now, do you think he was better than me, for not getting drunk that time?"

"In his refusal, he certainly showed an appreciation of right, whatever his previous or after career may have been," replied Mr. Wigton. "But, Mr. Sawyer, you must really permit me to impress upon you the absolute uselessness of drinking to excess; its sinfulness I will be able to convince you of afterwards. In the outset of your spree, as you call it, you provide a stock of spirits, which you lay yourself out to drink, uninterruptedly, until it is finished. After the first hour you become quite unconscious of everything around you, while you continue to drink mechanically, without actually knowing you are doing so, and certainly without your palate experiencing any gratification. So that the greater portion of the spirits you have drank has been consumed without affording you any satisfaction; in fact, wasted; and your money thrown away. Now, consider, what are the effects of this spree? If you are of a good constitution, and escape delirium tremens, are not your sufferings still very acute? far more so than to be commensurate to the wild excitement of the debauch? You are sick, your head seems every moment ready to split; you are for days absolutely wretched and ill; and not until your constitution works off the ill effects of your dissipation do you recover your wonted health; whereas, if you had confined yourself to drinking your grog in moderation, you would have enjoyed it for a lengthened period, escaped all the unpleasant symptoms I have mentioned, and not injured your health; so you will perceive that drunkenness is useless. I am well aware that it is difficult to convince men such as you, who like their grog, to such a belief; but if you could only be induced to try abstinence I have no doubt you would readily agree with me, with regard to its sinfulness."

"Oh, never mind that," cried Sawyer, "I don't want to have no sermon; if I like to buy grog, and drink it all at once, it don't hurt nobody but me; and if I choose to do it, why, it is my look out, and don't matter to anybody else. But come along, old woman," he continued, addressing his wife, "we must be going down to our camp;" and turning round to John, he said, "we left our boy down with the dray, and he will be thinking the time long without us."

"I'll come over to you in the morning," said William," I may be of some assistance to you, as I have no doubt you will want to get up a covering for the females as soon as possible."

"All right, young man, we will be glad to see you," replied Sawyer; saying which, and uttering a general "good night," that was echoed by his accompanying helpmate and progeny, he bent his steps towards the light of his own fire; and was speedily lost in the gloom.

"I could have desired," said Mr. Wigton, as the Sawyers departed, "more eligible neighbours for you than those people, and should recommend you, at the outset, not to permit too much familiarity from them; nor to cultivate a very close degree of acquaintanceship. It is as well to preserve a good feeling as neighbours; but for Kate's and your own sakes I would recommend that you let them understand at once, by your manner, that you do not intend to admit them on an equality. The example they would set to you all, especially to your sister, I consider highly reprehensible; and it is better to avoid at once the possibility of contamination than discard it when once the infection is made palpable."

"I think with you," said John, "that they are by no means desirable neighbours; and I will certainly follow your advice. I did not like the appearance of the people from the first; and the offer I made them to remain here I could not in common civility avoid; however, I am happy they did not accept it, and only regret that William should have promised to go over to them."

"Oh," said William, "I only want to learn something of that man's history. I know his life must have been an eventful one from the few remarks he made while here. You may believe me, otherwise I have no desire to devote much of my time to his or his family's society."

"You are quite right William," said Mr. Wigton; "but tell me," said he, turning to John, "what arrangements have you made for the reception of your sister? I see you have got a very nice little cottage, but it will surely take you some time to put things in perfect order for her."

"I expect," said John, "a dray up every day with furniture, and the necessity utensils for the commencement of our housekeeping. If anything is amiss we must fall back on William, for he selected them. When they arrive they shall be put in as good order as possible; I have engaged a man and his wife, and with the assistance of the latter, I think Kate will get on swimmingly. She will have very kind neighbours at Strawberry Hill, who are extremely anxious to keep her with them; and I am sure will be very attentive to her when she settles herself with us. So I think, so far, everything appears auspicious; though I would considerably have preferred having the house ready for her at once. To-day I came to an open rupture with Rainsfield, and he forbade me his house for the future; under which circumstance I think it is hardly right for one member of our family to be partaking of his hospitality."

"I am grieved to hear of your quarrel," remarked Mr. Wigton; "how did it occur? is it possible to heal the breach?"

"Why, for my own part," said John, "it were easy; but, judging from the animus displayed by my opponent, I do not think it would be readily accomplished. Mr. Rainsfield is under the strange hallucination that I am influencing the blacks in their depredations on him; and when I called upon him, to put him upon his guard against impending danger, he attacked me with surprising virulence. I fear the quarrel is irremediable, and I only now desire to get Kate away; I have got every thing here comfortably arranged for her, and am only waiting for the furniture to complete her home."

"I think you are perfectly right," replied the clergyman, "in your desire to bring your sister under your own roof; though, I have no doubt, she would desire to remain a short time longer with the kind ladies whose friendship she has been fortunate enough to secure. But it is only proper that she should join you when you complete your arrangements, in which, I think you have certainly shown some judicious management. I am sure Kate will reward you by settling into a first-rate little house-wife. She is a good, kind-hearted, affectionate girl; and, from what I have witnessed, I only think you will be speedily called upon to part with her; for, you may depend, such a treasure as she is will soon be discovered, even in this remote spot."

"I expect that will be the result of our training," said John, laughingly; "but, if our sister's happiness will be furthered by the severance, I will be truly happy to make the sacrifice; though I don't think we have much fear of losing her for some time to come. But tell us, my dear friend, about your own movements. I trust you intend favouring us with your company for some lengthened period."

"I can remain with you for some little time," replied Mr. Wigton, "perhaps a fortnight or more; but next month I am expected to be in Brisbane, and will, therefore, have to leave you in time to reach town before the middle of next month. I am particularly desirous of having some interviews with the blacks of your neighbouring tribe, to endeavour, if possible, to ameliorate their wretched condition; and, if you have no objection, I will get you to pilot me to their camp."

"With all my heart," said John, "I am quite at your service whenever you desire to go, and I am sure William will join us too; what do you say, Will?"

"By all means," replied he, "I'll go over with you, if you like, to-morrow afternoon, when I return from those people below us. You will have a good opportunity of speaking to them, Mr. Wigton, as the greater part of the tribe is assembled in the scrub just now."

After making the best arrangements they could for their visitor in their limited accommodation, the brothers and their friend retired for the night; and, on the following forenoon, William mounted his horse and rode over to the Sawyers' run, to satisfy his curiosity with regard to the Sawyer paterfamilias.

CHAPTER V.

"I could a tale unfold, whose lightest word

Would harrow up thy soul."

Hamlet,Act 1. Sc. 5.

William leisurely followed the track of the Sawyers' dray for about an hour, when he came up to their encampment, where they had apparently fixed upon a spot for their station. They must have been early in their departure from Fern Vale, and industrious in the interval; for, at the moment of William's arrival, they had got up a tent, under which they had placed the loading from their dray; while, amongst the various packages, the fair Hebe of the previous night was to be seen busily plunging, tugging, and sorting. Already pegs were placed at various distances in the ground to point out the boundaries for their respective enclosures and establishments; and a large tree lay stretched on the sward, in the spot on which it had fallen when succumbing to the axe of the younger Sawyer. The paternal couple were engaged dissecting the monster in sections of about nine longitudinal feet, and were plying the cross-cut saw with a will; while the son was driving an iron wedge into one of the lengths, thus dissected, to split it up into slabs for the erection of their hut.

William had approached close to this industrious family, before their attention was diverted from their work by a knowledge of his presence; and the old man raising his head from his stooping posture, as the saw cut through the log, greeted him with a "good morning," that was echoed by the group.

"There, old woman," said her husband, "you can go help Mary Ann in the tent, and I'll go on splitting with Reuben. Well, young un," said he, turning to William, "yon chap at your place, last night, I guess was a parson; he wanted to give me a sermon, but I didn't see it, so I cut it short; what does he do there with you?"

"Nothing," replied William, "he is merely a friend of ours, and only came to the station with me yesterday; he is a kind-hearted excellent man, and I am sure whatever he would have said to you would have been sound advice."

"Oh, I never doubt him," said the other, "only I don't like those parsons, and never get into any arguments with them; whatever you say they twist so to suit their own ways and sayings. Who would ever have thought that he would have said that fellow, as I was a talking of, was any better for a blackguarding of me for offering him of my grog."

"What were the particulars of that story?" enquired William, "you did not tell us last night."

"Well, if you wants to hear it," replied Sawyer, "I don't mind having a pull at my pipe for a few minutes while I tell you."

"I would like exceedingly to hear," replied William. Whereupon the old man took his seat upon the log he had been splitting; filled his pipe and lit it; while Rueben was resting on his maul, and William, who had affixed the bridle of his horse to the stirrup, and allowed him to graze about the spot, took his seat at the old man's side. After ejecting from his mouth a volume of smoke he commenced the following narrative; which, for the sake of perspicuity, we will take the liberty of clothing in our own words.

Old Sawyer was "an old lag," and had been a long time in servitude (and afterwards in freedom) on the Hunter river. During the latter part of his career in that district he had been pretty successful as a farmer, and had accumulated some little means; but agriculture, in his opinion, ceasing to be a profitable occupation he had determined to turn to squatting; and had consequently sold his farm, and taken up the run on which he was then settling. It is of his early career, however, that we have at present to speak.

At a primary era of his penal servitude he was, in common with most of his class, assigned to a master in the district in which he was located; and, after a time, was made by his master an overseer over the other servants. Amongst those under his supervision, were two young men who had held some posts of trust in England, and either from some fraudulent delinquencies, or culpable dereliction of duty, had made themselves amenable to the then stringent laws of their country, and were transported to the penal colony. They were both men of education and gentlemanly bearing; and, from a life in a clerical appointment, they were both totally unused to manual labour, and unfit to grapple with the trials of the convict discipline. They were, consequently, awkward and clumsy in the performance of their allotted tasks; while their inability was construed, by their truculent master, into perversity and stubbornness; and he swore, by increased toil and exactions, to break their gentlemanly pride, as he termed their unskillfulness.

The two young men were put on one occasion, by the direction of the master, to fell some large trees, and they were given a cross-cut saw for the purpose; but on the first tree, on which they tried their hands, they broke their saw. As soon as the circumstance became known to their employer, he sent them to the magistrate; and had them sentenced to fifty lashes each for insubordination; and, after the execution of the sentence, to be sent back to work. They returned to their work, but from that moment they were altered men. The crushing influence of the convict system had done its work; they had undergone the demoniacal transition; and two more victims were added to that mass who breathed only for vengeance on their tyrants. It was during the period between this punishment, and the accomplishment of their vengeance, that Sawyer, who really pitied the poor fellows, had given the bibulous invitation, and met with the rebuff.

Not long after this, the two convicts made their escape, and took to the bush; which was scoured for months, over an immense extent, for their recovery, but ineffectually. Nothing was heard of them for nearly two years, when one, famished and emaciated, gave himself up at the settlement; reported the death of his companion; and confessed to the participation in one of the most horrible crimes on record; that which we are about to relate.

About six months after the escape of himself and his companion, when it was supposed they had perished in the wilds of the bush, the man whom we have mentioned as their master was suddenly missed. Upon instituting a search his body was found; but in such as state of putrefaction, and presenting such a hideous spectacle, that it was not removed; but a hole dug at the spot where it was discovered, and the remains, like any other vile carcass, shovelled into its last resting-place. The event at the time was thought of little moment, as the man was generally detested, and had no friends to agitate the matter; so it was hardly conjectured who were the perpetrators of his murder, and not until the criminal himself had confessed to the crime, were the authorities at all acquainted with the matter.

It appeared that the young men, when they effected their escape, secreted themselves in gullies and crevices of the rocks; only venturing out in search of food during the darkness of night. In this way they existed; enduring the greatest privations, and living only for the hope of revenge. They waited for the opportunity that was to throw their victim into their hands, with a patience worthy of a better cause; and watched with an eagerness and vigilance, almost perpetual, until the happy moment arrived, and they possessed themselves of the person of their late detested master.

He had been returning over-land from Sydney, and was leisurely approaching the settlements of the Hunter, when he was espied by the convicts. Great was their joy at this moment; though they knew, that even now that he was within their reach, they would experience great difficulty in securing him; more especially, as they were convinced he would be armed, while they were not. However, they determined to risk their lives in the attempt, for his death to them was sweeter than the preservation of their own lives.

They secreted themselves, one on either side of the road along which he had to go; and, at the moment when he was just about passing them, they simultaneously rushed from their ambush; and, before he was hardly aware of their presence, they had seized him by the arms, dragged him from his horse, and deprived him of the fire-arms he had had no time to use. They then bound him, and led him away into the bush, leaving his horse to find its way home at pleasure.

The captors, after pinioning the arms of their victim, took him through the country, over ranges and across gullies, into the recesses of the bush, where they had taken up their abode; not deigning to enter into any conversation with him by the way. He, however, treated his captivity lightly, imagining that they were merely removing him from the road, to give themselves a surer opportunity of escape when they released him. He had no doubt but that their object was simply to rob him; and, by withdrawing him from the chance of assistance, they were only securing their retreat, in the event of his returning to arrest them after regaining his liberty. He was therefore consoling himself that he had very little on him to lose; and would experience very little difficulty in finding his way to the settlement. Very different ideas traversed the brains of his captors; though they preserved a uniform taciturnity to his jocular sallies; and, except that they well guarded against the possibility of his escape, they took not the slightest notice of him, and treated him with the most marked contempt.

After walking thus for about two hours, they came to a deep gully, through which rippled a small limpid creek; on the sides of which, and extending up the faces of the gorge, were masses of rock piled in endless confusion. Here they halted, and having secured their prisoner to a tree, while one lit a fire, the other disappeared among the rocks, and returned with some edibles, scanty in quantity, and mean in quality. Having with these appeased their hunger, and quenched their thirst at the stream; they sat down by the fire, and conversed together in a low tone; protracting their conclave until darkness enclosed the scene.

The fears of the wretched victim were at length aroused by these mysterious proceedings. A horrible sensation crept over his mind; he felt no doubt that the convicts were holding a consultation as to how they would dispose of him; and he entertained a secret suspicion, that their object was not plunder, but murder. He still, however, argued with himself, that they could have no object in taking his life, by which they would gain nothing; whereas they might enrich themselves by robbing or ransoming him. He therefore attempted a parley to induce terms.

"I say, young fellows," he shouted, "how long are you going to keep me here? you may as well take what I have got and let me go; or if you demand a ransom, let me know the amount, and provide me with pen and ink, and I will give you a cheque on the bank in Sydney."

"Silence, wretched man!" replied one of the convicts, advancing to him and presenting one of his own pistols at his head, "or I'll blow out your brains; we scorn to appropriate an article belonging to you. Even these instruments of death shall be left with you when we leave you; we do not desire booty. Your time has come, when you are called upon to atone to man for your many iniquities: and to-morrow you will have to account to your God."

"What! you surely do not mean to kill me?" screamed the terrified captive, in a voice that echoed in a thousand keys through the cavernous glen: "what have I done to deserve death from you? I have never wronged you to my knowledge; if I have, I will make all the reparation in my power; but spare my life, and I will give you whatever you demand."

"'Tis useless, you dog," replied his inquisitors. "If we desired plunder, we know you too well to believe in promises, extracted from you under such circumstances as these; and we are also aware of the impossibility of our procuring the ransom you may offer, or, even if we got it, of enjoying it."

"No, by heaven!" exclaimed the frantic wretch, "I swear to you on my soul, spare me my life, and I will give you whatever you ask, one hundred, five hundred, or a thousand pounds."

"Your prayers to us," replied his captors, "are of no avail, to-morrow you die; so in the meantime, make your peace with your Maker, if such be possible."

"But why kill me?" screamed the agonized man, "what have I done to deserve death?"

"Wretch! do you want a recital of your sins?" replied his quondam servant; "have they been so insignificant that you cannot call any to present recollection? Are they not rather as numerous as the hairs on your head? does not the black and heinous catalogue rise before you, and darken your very soul? You have asked us why you are to die; I will tell you, and let God judge between us whether your fate is not your just reward; while you, vile reptile that you are, answer if you can, if we have not just cause to require your death to expiate your crimes.

"How have you fulfilled the government requisitions to your assigned servants? How have you fed them and clothed them? Have not their coverings been such, as to be as bad or worse than none? insufficient for any season; causing paralysis in winter, and sun-strokes in summer? Has not their food been unfit for pigs? Have you not tyrannized over them, and submitted them to unheard-of cruelties; simply to gratify your insatiable thirst for witnessing torture? Have you not, when you had a willing servant, who was anxious to conduct himself orderly and give satisfaction, made some paltry excuse to have the man punished; because you feared you would lose his services, by his obtaining his 'ticket of leave,' for good conduct? Have you not done all this? Yes! and more. You have even compelled your men to intoxicate themselves; and then accused them before a magistrate of stealing the spirits, to obtain the cancelling of their tickets. You have by your cruelty driven men mad, to the bush, or to a lingering death; you have crushed the germ of contrition in the breasts of hundreds, and degraded them to the level of beasts; while the only sounds grateful to your ears, have been the yells of anguish of your victims; and the only spectacle pleasing to your sight, the application of the lash. You have done all this, and even more in hundreds or thousands of cases. You have done so to us; you have heaped ignominy upon our heads; and with starvation, exposure, and accumulated toil, you have caused unjustly our backs to be lacerated by the lash, and our spirits to be broken by your barbarity. Life to us has lost its charm; we thirst only for your blood; vengeance is now in our hands, and you shall die."

The yells of the wretched man, that followed this denouncement, sounded through the glen as the shrieks of a demon or a maniac; and his cries might have been heard far into the bush, had there been any one near to help him. But they were lost on the wilderness' air; and he at last sank exhausted in his bonds, while his captors watched alternately at his feet, with his own loaded pistols ready for use in case of emergency.

The morning dawned as brightly as ever; though the stillness of the bush cast a gloom upon everything within its umbrageous influence. The convicts were up and stirring by daylight, and their first task was to arouse their unconscious victim (who seemed to doze in a lethargic indifference), and prepare him for his approaching fate.

He was speedily denuded of his attire, and bound hand and foot; in which condition he was laid over the bed of an ant's nest, and tied by his extremities, in a state of tension, to opposite trees; in such a manner as to keep his body immoveable over the nest. The wretched man soon awoke to the horrors of his situation, and implored, with the earnestness of a dying man, of his murderers to save his life. But he appealed to feelings and sympathies that were dead; that had, in fact, been strangled by himself: it was in vain. After the most desperate resistance he was secured in his place of torture, while the very skies rang with his cries of anguish and despair.

His body was no sooner prostrate on the heap, than the ants in myriads attacked it vigorously; in a few minutes making its surface black with their swarms; penetrating into his very flesh, and making use of the natural channels to affect ingress to his inner system; and travelling in continuous streams in and out of his nostrils, ears, and mouth. The horrors of the picture it is impossible to describe; and the expression of his features it is equally difficult to conceive. The colour of his skin speedily changed to deep blue; the veins and muscles stood out in bold relief; his eyes projected from his head, and rolled, bleared as they were, in sockets of livid flesh; he gnashed his teeth in his unutterable agony, and rent the air with horrible and impious imprecations; while the utterance was almost diabolical by the vermin that choked the passages of his system.

No human being could long bear this excruciating torture; and at last the body perceptibly swelled, the cœliac or cavernous parts becoming horribly distended, and the spirit fled to its heavenly judgment. Not till then, did the two calm spectators leave the spot, where they had witnessed the death of their victim, and where they now left "nature's scavengers" to finish the work they had commenced.

The sufferings of the two convicts from this time must have been fearful; for one shortly succumbed to them, while the other bearing it for some months longer, gave himself up to the authorities, and met his fate on the gallows.

After the relation of the above tale of woe the elder Sawyer and his son resumed their work, and the conversation took a general turn; while William, who found he could not be of any service to the settlers, caught his horse and took his leave.

When he returned to his own place he found that, during his absence, the expected dray had arrived from town with their furniture, which lay strewn on the ground, in front of the cottage, where it had been discharged. And he at once became busy in unpacking and sorting the things; while his brother superintended the refreighting of the vehicle with what return loading they had for it. The man and wife who had been hired for them, and who had accompanied the dray, busied themselves in arranging the things in the cottage.

The proposed visit to the blacks, by this opportune arrival, was necessarily postponed; and it was determined that William should, that very afternoon, ride over to Strawberry Hill; inform Kate of the orders of things; and desire her to join them as soon as possible. John impressed upon his brother the necessity of urging Kate to lose no time, as the place would be quite ready for her by the following day; and he did not think, under the existing circumstances, it was consistent for her to remain longer with the Rainsfields than was absolutely necessary. "Of course," he said, "Kate would be perfectly ignorant of the rupture between myself and Mr. Rainsfield, and might therefore battle against so speedy and abrupt a termination to her visit." But he left the matter, he told William, to himself to manage, without entering into any explanations to their sister, which would necessarily be painful to all parties; besides which, he had no doubt, when Mrs. Rainsfield perceived it was his desire to have Kate home with them, she would offer no objection to her departure, as she would understand his motive for desiring it.

William was accordingly dispatched on the errand; and returning in the evening, in company with Tom Rainsfield, gave an account of his diplomacy. As was anticipated by the brothers, Kate could with difficulty be persuaded to break off her engagement with the Rainsfields; but that when she saw that both her brothers desired it, and that she was not pressed to prolong her visit, she reluctantly acceded to her brother's request; and promised to be ready to come over to Fern Vale on the following morning. So William had engaged to return for her the next day.

"It is lucky for you, my fine friend," said Tom, "that I was not at home, when you persuaded your sister to such an ungracious determination; for I, most assuredly, would have annihilated you, and kept her in captivity. It is really cruel just to leave her with us sufficiently long to cause us all to adore her; and then snatch her away from us in such an unceremonious manner. What on earth can you mean by carrying her off in this way?"

"Why," said John, "we are afraid of losing sight of you altogether, Tom; you would have forgotten us entirely while you retained possession of our Kate; and besides we want to make some use of our idle little sister. But tell us now, if you were not at home when William was at your house, pray, where did you spring from?"

"I have been over to the black's camp, to try and conciliate the rascals," replied Tom, "but I am sorry to find they are death on my brother for his treatment of them."

"You seem to have agitated them by your visit," said John, "for they have made a fearful disturbance all the afternoon."

"They were holding some discussion when I arrived there," said Tom, "but they were quieted upon my presenting myself."

"They appear then only to have been 'called to order' by you," said John, "and maintained it simply during your stay; for did you ever hear such a Babel of voices as are screaming now; it is enough to deafen us even at this distance."

CHAPTER VI.

"If it were done, when 'tis done, then 'twere well

It were done quickly."

Macbeth, Act I, Sc. 6.

When Mr. Rainsfield parted from Mr. Billing, after escorting him to the junction of the Alma and Brompton roads, he returned home to carry out his contemplated arrangements; in the concatenation of which, his first step was to remove the stores from the building used as a store to an apartment in the house; and he had barely effected this, before Tom, his wife, and Kate returned. When the ladies retired in the evening Tom asked his brother if John Ferguson had been at Strawberry Hill in the morning; and how it was that he had not been seen by any other inmate of the house.

Rainsfield replied that John Ferguson had certainly been there in the morning; and that the cause of his not having been seen by the family was an interview that had taken place between himself and Ferguson by which he, Mr. Rainsfield, had learnt that the blacks were meditating some fresh outrage; and he would therefore be glad if Tom would undertake a mission to them to mediate a pacification.

Rainsfield was playing a deep and hazardous game, and he felt it himself. Even to his brother he had recourse to dissimulation to blind or divert him from a perception of a stratagem in which he was aware he could not procure Tom's concurrence. He therefore wished to get him out of the way while he worked his diabolical machinations. He knew that whatever the purpose of the blacks might be, they would not be diverted by the persuasion of Tom; and, as he naturally conceived their object to be pilfering, he intended to be perfectly prepared for them. At the same time he wished none of his own family to witness the preparations he was making.

"Very well," said Tom, "I will go to-morrow; for, to tell you the truth, I have myself thought for some time that they were hatching some mischief; and my suspicions were the more aroused when I witnessed, along with John Ferguson, their last corroboree. It struck me then, more than once, that I heard your name uttered by them in their song."

"Were you then at the corroboree?" enquired Rainsfield.

"Yes," replied Tom. "But tell me what information John Ferguson imparted to you, and how he obtained it."

"Well, I can hardly tell you now," said Rainsfield, "for I was so agitated at the time that much of it was lost to me; but I believe he said his blacks boys, who had returned from the camp after the corroboree, had informed him that the tribe intended something; though what the exact nature of the meditated aggression was, they were unable or unwilling to explain."

On the following day Rainsfield was anxious to get Tom off before the arrival of Billing, whose absence he had not perceived. And he wished, if possible, to prevent the necessity of accounting for the storekeeper's journey to Alma; the very circumstance of which, unusual as it was, he knew would excite the wonder of Tom. While, if not perfectly satisfied with his explanation, he feared his brother might be induced to seek further information from Mrs. Billing; whom Rainsfield felt no doubt was a confident of her husband, and acquainted with the object of the journey, at least such object as was assigned to it by himself. So he urged upon Tom the advisableness of dispatch, to prevent the blacks from carrying out their plans, if they meditated anything that night.

Tom promised to go about mid-day, or early in the afternoon, and to stop with them until late in the evening, so as to detain them, if they meditated any outrage on the station, from its execution; and about one o'clock he took his departure, much to the relief of his brother. Not long afterwards the horse that was supposed to be carrying the burden of Mr. Billing's body presented himself at the door of the house, though minus his rider. The valise was instantly removed by Mr. Rainsfield, who perceived that the desired articles were therein; and he then dispatched one of his men, with the horse, to go back and look for the missing equestrian; without allowing the sensitive nerves of that doating creature, the sharer of all his earthly troubles, to be unnecessarily agitated by a knowledge of her husband's abasement.

The rider was not long in returning with the lost representative of commerce, who had in the agony of his motion, and in a futile effort to stop the career of his carrier, lost his balance in his saddle, and described what in skating counties is designated a "spread eagle." He, however, found himself less hurt than he at first anticipated, and he speedily adopted a sensible resolution to make the best progress he could on foot. While the horse, after relieving himself of his encumbrance, and getting beyond the reach of capture, must have taken his leisure, for Mr. Billing was no very great distance behind him.

"Well, Mr. Billing," said his master, as that individual addressed made his appearance in a sorry plight, "how did you enjoy your excursion to Alma? I am sorry to see you have got thrown; I trust you have not hurt yourself."

"I am happy, sir, to assure you," replied Mr. Billing, "that, through the gracious dispensation of Providence, I have sustained no osseous fractures; though, sir, I may add, my mental agony, and bodily sufferings, have been such as I never wish again to experience."

"You must expect to have some inconvenience in your first ride, Mr. Billing," said his master; "but you will find, upon your second attempt, that the unpleasantness will be diminished."

"That second attempt, sir," replied the little man, "will never be made by me. I have a positive abhorrence for a horse, sir, and no power on earth, sir, would induce me to become a chevalier."

"Very well, Mr. Billing," replied the other, "I'll not attempt to persuade you against your own inclinations; I can only thank you for your services on this occasion, and if you will meet me in the store, when you have recovered yourself a little, we will proceed to business;" saying which, the couple parted.

In the store where Rainsfield entered were, besides sundry articles that were not strictly alimentary, the carcass of a sheep, suspended from one of the beams, and a bag of flour; or rather a bag that had contained flour, for the bag was suspended supinely by two ropes, with its mouth open; and on a sheet on the floor was heaped the flour it had contained. To this heap, after closing and locking the door, Rainsfield advanced; and, first taking a furtive glance around, to satisfy himself that he was unnoticed, he stooped down and deliberately mixed with it the arsenic that had been brought by Mr. Billing. He had performed this operation, and had just rebagged the flour, when Billing turned the handle of the door, at the sound of which Rainsfield started like a detected thief.

At no time are the words of the immortal bard, "thus conscience doth make cowards of us all," more forcibly displayed than when an honourable or upright man steps from the straight path of honour and integrity to perform a despicable or criminal action. Thus Mr. Rainsfield could not quiet the chidings of his conscience, which did not disguise from him the enormity of the crime he was committing; and when he heard the step of his storekeeper at the door he felt the weight of contemplated guilt, and for some moments had not the power of articulation.

Mr. Billing was just turning away, thinking his master was not in the building, when Mr. Rainsfield opened the door with a blush on his cheek, and a lie in his mouth, to support his first deception and subsequent interruption.

"I hardly heard you, Mr. Billing," said he, "when you tried the door, as I was busy, and I had locked it to prevent being disturbed. You see," he continued, as his confidential entered, "I have had a sheep killed for our purpose. This we will now inoculate with the strychnine you have procured; and we will send it out to the plains for the dogs to consume to-morrow; and we can continue the operation at frequent intervals until the animals disappear. The arsenic, I think, we may keep for the present, and see first how this acts. You will perceive I have removed all the stores into the house with the exception of this one bag of flour, which I discovered to be slightly damaged, so had it sifted. I was just packing it again as you came to the door, and being so much occupied I did not hear you. By the way," he repeated to himself, "I may as well close it up;" and turning to Billing, he resumed: "will you be good enough to step into the house and get me a needle and string?"

Mr. Billing went for the required articles, and during his absence, Rainsfield removed the sheet on which the flour had been spread, and destroyed all traces of his labour; so that, upon Billing's return, the work, or that portion of it, was accomplished, and the bag was placed in an upright position against the wall.

The sheep was then removed from the beam, and the inside was well rubbed and besmeared with the poison; after which it was placed in its former position, and the outside submitted to a similar manipulation. This completed the pair left the store; the door was locked by the master, and the key taken away by him to prevent, as he said, the possibility of accidents.

"Do you not think," suggested Mr. Billing, "we had better have the flour removed into the house?"

"Oh, no, it does not signify to-day," replied Rainsfield, "it will take no harm there until the morning, and we can have it removed then when we send the fellows up to the plains with the meat."