Australian Life.

Mount Ida Chronicle, Volume II, Issue 139, 27 October 1871, Page 6

Australian Life.

STORIES OF

♦ : By a New Zealand Settle*.

We—that is, Old John (the cook), Bill (the bullock driver), and myself (the shepherd) —were all seated, one cold winter's night, the snow falling heavily outside, round a blazing fire in the men's hut on a sheep station more than one hundred miles in the interior of New Zealand. We were all strangers to each other, but had all been in Australia, and we were beguiling the time relating stories of our adventures in that country. Old John had been sent out some ten years before the gold discovery to Tasmania, on a sentence of fourteen years; what it was for I never knew; at all events, he, like many others to be found in the colonies, had turned over a new leaf, and was a hard-working, faithful servant. After having talked over the richness of Old Bendigo and Forest Creek, , ; and the luck that had attended us there, the conversation turned upon bushrangers, and whether any of us had ever fallen into the nknds of these gentlemen, when Old John began his story thus : THE OLD COOES STORY. In the summer of 1854 I was hut-keep-ing on a station on the banks of the river Campaspe, about ninety miles from Melbourne. The overseer had sent me along with a shepherd and about 3000 sheep to bae of the out-huts, some ten miles from the head station. It was my duty to cook his meals and watch the sheep at night ... from.the attacks of native dogs, which at that time were very plentiful, most des- ';" tructive to the sheep, and a source of ; great annoyance to the settler. The shep- , herd had left on this particular day early in the morning with his flock for the head station, for the purpose of having them "foot-rotted," and I did not expect him back for some days. The hut where I was located being far off the main road, very few travellers came our way. I had been paid my wages for six months about a week previous in hard cash, which I kept about my person in an old pocket-book. I had finished my dinner, and was reclining on my " bunk " enjoying a quiet smoke, ; when a man stalked into the hut and inquired if I could give him a " feed." I at once jumped up, put on the kettle, ' and made some tea, fried a few chops, and set them before him. I then returned to have a lie down, when it was not many minutes before I recognised my companion, being no less than the Tasmanian bushranger Dalton, whom I knew in that , country, having worked in the same gang with him in Hobart Town. Knowing the desperate character of the man, I kept my own eounsel, being well aware if he thought I recognised him it might stand hard with me. This desperado had been long hunted after in Tasmania by the troopers, but had managed to elude their grasp. Amongst • his other crimes that of at least one mur- ■ -der, if not more, in cold blood, had been laid to his charge. He had escaped from Tasmania along with several others in an open boat, managed to reach the Australian coast, and at once took to the bush. '■■' You may easily conceive I did not feel ' Very comfortable with my companion, and heartily wished him miles away. After he finished his dinner and lighted his pipe, he inquired about the shepherd, and being informed that he had gone to the head station and would not return for a few day*, he requested that, being tired and footsore, I would allow him to remain for the night, to which I very reluctantly con- : iaente,d-

Soon after he lay down on a spare bunk i»nd apparently fell fast asleep. Taking advantage of this I slipped out, went a -Uttl& way int<> the bush,-and M planted"

the pocket-book and its contents. Nothing particular occurred till sun-down, when, as I was preparing to go to bed, and had partly undressed, he suddenly started up, pulled a revolver from his belt which I had previously observed, and demanded the money which I had been paid the week previous.

I replied I had no money. " What!" said he, " don't you think 1 know that you have your six months' wages past you, if not more? You thought I was asleep when you slipped out to plant the money; but I was too wide awake for you. Come, lead the way into the bush, and hand it over, or else I'll soon put a bullet through your head. You thought I did not know you, though it is some years since we met. A white-livered cur who would not join us when we arranged our plan of escape from that cursed place. Come, out of doors and show the way and be smart about it." I knew that resistance was useless, and stepped to the door, he backing from me with the revolver still pointed. I got outside—the moon was shining bright—and was ordered to walk in advance, Dalton following close at my heels till I reached the spot where my all was concealed, and gave him the pocket-book. He then ordered me to walk back, and on reaching the hut he carefully counted over : the notes and some gold, and appeared to have some suspicion that I had more con« ' cealed.

" You have more than this, old fellow ; come, hand it this way." I said I had not another shilling. " I don't believe you. Come, down on your knees and say your prayers, for you have not more than ten minutes to live. I'll shoot you, you old devil, and then I can overhaul the hut at my leisure. I should not wonder but the shepherd has got his ' tin' stowed away somewhere about his bed."

I did think my last hour was come, and begged of him not to injure an old man like me, who had given up everything he possessed. " Well," he said, " hand over your clothes and boots, and I will have a search outside." I did so.

Dalton then backed himself to the door, still pointing the revolver at me; and as he was going out ordered me not to follow him, or dare come out of the hut that night. " Aye," said he, " If you even come to the door to look out I'll blow your brains out: I may not be very many yards off." I need not say that I faithfully obeyed his instructions, and the sun was high in the heavens next morning ere I ventured out of the hut. During the rest of the day I remained in-doors, but on the following day I summoned courage to stroll about a little, to see if I could track the way he went. About a quarter of a mile off I saw where he had tethered his horse, and close by I found my clothes and boots. The following day I reported the affair at the station, and there I saw the shepherd, who informed me he had passed him on the road, and that had he " stuck him up" he would have got about the same amount from him, as he carried his money, like myself, about his person.

" But was not Dalton afterwards caught?" inquired Bill, the bullock driver.

"Yes, and hanged too," replied Old John ; " and it was in this way :" About a twelvemonth after my encounter with him, he came into a public house in Melbourne late one evening, and inquired of the landlord if he could exchange some Sydney bank notes. The landlord informed him that he had better wait till next day, and he then could get them exchanged at the bank. There chanced to be a detective at the bar, dressed like an

up-country stockman, *ho, without knowing who Dalton was, had his suspicion that all was not right, so, offering to take him to a place where he could get the notes changed, walked him straight into the police station by a back entrance, and, before Dalton knew where he was, he was overpowered after a desperate resistance, and manacled on both arms and legs.

When searched he had two revolvers and a bowie knife on his person. He told the detective that had he known where he was bringing him to he would have shot him dead at the very door of the station. The authorities in Tasmania were communicated with, and he was taken over to that country heavily ironed, tried for the murder he had committed there, and afterwards executed in front of the gaol at Hobart Town.

"Well," I remarked, after John had finished his story, "you had a narrow escape, for at that time these villains did not much value human life, and would as soon take it as they would your money."

" Yes," he replied, " I have no doubt he would have shot me if by any chance I had banked or given the money to the overseer to keep, as he would not have believed me if I had told him so." (To be continued.)