SARAH FULLER'S NIGHT IN THE BUSH.

Southland Times, Issue 864, 13 December 1867, Page 3

SARAH FULLER'S NIGHT IN THE BUSH.

BY C. M. Poor Sarah, remembering the trim roadside inns of England, and supposing that she would be able to supply her simple wants, was wholly unprovided. " This is a thirsty day, my word," remarked her opposite neighbor. "It is so," said a friend ; and for the remainder of the day their attention was divided between their dirty short pipes and a square bottle, which they took every opportunity of refilling. "Haven't you got any tucker?" inquired a coarse-looking woman. You must be a fool." Well-nigh fainting from fatigue and exhaustion, Sarah hailed with gratitude a gentle voice, which came from the far end of the waggon, as the speaker — a delicate-looking woman, invited her to share the breakfast provided for herself and family — an offer no sooner matle than the breakfasts of all the travellers were at Sarah's disposal. From her new found friends she thankfully received the kindest attention for the remainder of the journey, which lasted nearly three weeks, when the waggon lumbered into Beechworth as it had lumbered out of Melbourne. On descending from it, Sarah heard a loud coarse voice inquiring, " Where was the girl which was from Melbourne for nussery gove'ness ?" Sarah tremblingly announced herself as the person asked for. " All serene," was the reply. " Got any traps ?." Sarah, supposing he was some servant from the station sent to meet her, and hoping soon to be relieved from his disagreeable presence, pointed out her luggage ; and after the preliminary imprecations which some colonials seem to think necessary to skilful driving, they began their journey. Daylight disappeared ; it could not be said to fade. In the thickly-wooded country through which they passed, when once the sun "began to sink they were in darkness. Here's a good bush track somewheres." said the driver, just as they passed over a stump, which almost jolted her off the dray> and set her wondering what a bad track could be like. " Here you are !" And he pulled up at the door of a rough-looking hut, standing alone in the solitary bush, its outlines distinctly visible in the light of the now risen moon. " You cannot mean that I am to stop here ?" said Sarah, greatly alarmed. " I will not get down." " All right," said the man. " But you'll fund it precious cold at night, and precious hot in the day, I can tell you." And undoing the harness, he let down the shafts with no gentle hand. Sarah was thus compelled to alight, and silently, but in a fever of dread, entered the hut, where she found the wretchedness of the interior fully corresponded to that of its exterior. " Sit down, and don't be a fool," said her conducter. " Here you are, and here you're likely to be for some time to come." "Wretch!" exclaimed the agonised girl, " take me instantly to the station, or I will expose you to your master." "My master!" said the man, with a brutal laugh. " Oh, my master's very kind to me — shall I tell you why, my dear? I'm my own master, and have been ever since I gave 'em the slip from over t'other side. You'd better give up all that stuff about nussery gove'ness ; I've got no kids. If I'd a missus I should'nt want you. I ain't bad tempered and I don't want to risk my neck a second time for any woman alive. Cry away, you won't upset the neighbors. You'll come round in good time, like the rest of 'em. But no tricks, trying to be off and splitting on me !" and he pointed to a revolver in his belt. Seated on one of the stumps which served as chairs, Saiah rocked herself in an agony of grief. The confidence of the man shewed her too plainly that she was only another victim to a devilish system of entrapping unprotected girls into solitary places, where they would be utterly at the mercy of their brutal betrayers. Something of her brother's resolution was in the nature of the entrapped girl"; and as she thought of his life-long devotion to her, of his hopes finding such an ending as this— more than all, of the loving heart, the brave arm, that would have perilled anything to save her — she felt that to be lost, to starve, to perish in the bush — any fate would be preferable to remaining with the ruffian into whose hands she had fallen. Seeing that she was shivering with cold, and sinking with exhaustion, he made a roaring fire in the chimney, and brought her food and tea, repeating all the while that she'd come all right by-and-by ; and at last, finding that she would neither speak to him nor touch the food he offered, declaring that he was " dead beat," he swallowed a large draught of brandy, and, throwing himself on his pile of filthy rugs and blankets, was soon in a deep, heavy sleep. Sarah at length, satisfied that his reßt was not feigned, rose from her seat, and, going up to the table-log, broke off a piece from the loaf, and then, with light step and beating heart, crept gently from the hut, and commenced her perilous flight, listening at intervals for any sounds of purstiit j "but the silence waa unbroken,

! except when she occasionally eatna upon some nibbling wallaby, who scampered away as startled as herself, or when, ait morning dawned, the birds awoke, and answered each other's calls from tree to tree. By one of those strange circumstances which sceptics ascribe to chance —^believers to Providence, the lonely girl's steps were guided through the bush in the | right direction, until she came suddenly upon a man who was tightening his horse's girths. At the sight of another human being, her over-strained energy gave way, and, with a faint cry for help, she sank senseless on the ground. On her recovery, to her astonishment, she found herself "supported by no other than John Ainslie. . " Get a little better, Sally, dear," said he, " and then we will tell each other all that has hapened since we parted. I'll begin with my part " — a look of doubt and pain crossed his face as he added— " then you shall tell me yours." The girl met his look with her full honest eyes. "Thank God, my own darling," he said, as he pressed her to his thankful heart, and, with a happy voice, began — "Ah Sally, I may as well confess that when you first went I meant to be very brave over it. I tried very hard not to take it to heart. Mother used to say you'd soon get over your liking for me, and be marrying some chap with lots of money; and then she'd praise up Patty Gower, till I grew almost to hate our house. Then all of a sudden it seemed to come over me what you would do, suppose William was to die before he made anything — what you'd do all alone in a strange place, and never used to work. Well, dear, this thought took such hold on me, that I never heeded all that mother could say, but left her to manage the farm, and sailed less than a month after you did. We made much the best passage, and got here a day after you. I went on board your ship but you'd left. Nobody knew anything about you. I inquiied at all the labour offices about William. At last when I was quite down-hearted, making sure I'd lost you, a heavy rain made me stop nnder the lee of a shop. Two young fellows came up, and did the same. Presently one of them said, * That was a nice girl aboard, that Srrah Fuller.' I jumpedforward, and shook him by the arm. My heart seemed in my mouth as I asked him, ' What do you know about Sarah Puller ?— tell me where she is.' They looked a good deal surprised, and the one I had by the arm said, ' You seem very anxious about Sarah Puller. We only know she came out in our ship — she and her brother.' Then they told me all about poor William. They didn't know where you were, but said the folks you stopped with first night missed their drays and went back where yon lodged, and the woman told them she saw you nail a card for Beechworth on your box. I started after you, and missed you again. I should never have found you, but that the wretch who took you away, while he was waiting for your waggon had a fight with a bullock-driver, who was drinking at the place where you stopped. This man knows him and his tricks, and, out of spite, told me all about him, and where to find him. I was going after you when you came up ; and so, thank God, we have met — my own heart, and the same innocent look in your dear eyes, tell me, not too late. But how have you escaped? But you are rested now. Let us leave this accursed place, and you shall tell me by-and-bye." There is little need to add more. Everybody will be prepared to hear that they lost no time in being maaried, after which they sailed immediately for England, where old Mrs Ainslie was too pleased to regain her truant son not to gladly forget that she had ever hoped to welcome any other as a daughter than her old favourite, Sarah Puller. The ruffian who had entrapped Sarah, warned by his confederates, managed to evade the tardy justice of the digging times. Her fortunate escape enables us to relate the circumstance ; but who shall say how many innocent girls have found no rescue from one of the most frightful perils of the bush. Concluded.