THE STORYTELLER.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume L, Issue 59, 17 April 1907, Page 4

THE STORYTELLER.

''HE KELLY GANG. ! LASV OF THE BUSHRANGERS. THE WHOLE STORY RETOLD. The conviction of an expert forger and chief of a gang of criminals who figured in the dock of the Central C.imiiul C'liirt a lew mouth* ago is estimated to have cost no less than iM'IOO. Criminal hunting is apt to prove expensive. To bring to justice the Kelly gang of bushrangers entailed the expenditure of uo less than tllj.OOO. For four years the Kelly gang had been notorious. Their extraordinary misdeeds had been Hashed from one end of the world to another. People wondered what their next exploit would be, mid—ignorant of the fearful obstacles which their hunters had to cont end with among the scrub, ravines, and mountain.of the bush—grew derisive at the expense of their pursuers.. "You'd never have caught us if we had not Iwen fools," declared Ned Kelly when at last he was safe in the cell from which he was never io escape. H.; shook the irons on his legs impatiently. "1 can only believe 1 am here when 1 hear these 'things rattle," he said, "it's nut a dream then."

' It was not. In that cell in Melbourne Caul in November, 1880. Ned Kelly, the last of the bushrangers, was awaiting the call to the scaffold. Four years previously a constable named Fitzpatrick rode up to the door of a hut in the wild district of Greta, New South Wales. "You're Dan Kelly,'' he said to a man standing beside the door. "I have a warrant to arrest you for horse-stealing. Y'ou are my prisoner." Dan Kelly did not seem at all disturbed. He suggested that, as the police station was miles away, he and the constable should have something to eat before starting. Dan's mother waited on them at the meal. Suddenly, with a cry of hatred, the old woman dealt the constable a furious blow with a shovel, and at the same time' some men dashed into the hut. - The sound of a revolver shot rang out, and Fitzpatrick uttered a cry of pain. His assailant had been a tail, stalwart, yellow-haired, who now eonfronted him. ■•'Promise you'll not try to take Dan away," he said, "and promise you'll say nothing as to what has happened here. or " , , .

He flourished his revolver threateningly and Fitzpatrick gave the extorted promise. A few days later a party of police from Benalla station swooped down upon the Great hut, and horc Mrs. Kelly and some of her neighbors away prisoners, to be tried and sentenced to long vears of penal servitude. • But Ned and Dan Kelly had saddled and ridden awav into the trackless depths of the Wombat range of mountains, and none could track them. They had become bushrangers. Hardy, daring, magnificent horsemen, mounted on good steeds, and knowing the mountain ranges and the bush all round, they laughed to, scorn the efforts of the mounted p«lice, even when aided by the famous Queensland black trackers, to hunt them down. Sympathising wit a 1 the Kellys, the people in the district helped them to procure food, and Ret the '-bush telegraph" at work, informed them of the movements of the pursuing police. The "bush telegraph"' was a means of signs—a broken branch, the scream of a night bird, the hanging out of pieces of washing. The Kellys slipped through the meshes of the most skilful-ly-planned police nets. ">len suspected of assisting the hush rangers were arrested and thrown into prison. The women and children then became the Keliys spies and helpers.

"Hunted by black men as if we were dogs, and our friends put iu prison for nothing!" declared Ned Kelly. "The ehaps that are after us shall find out that Xed Kelly is not'a wild beast to be chased as if he could uot bite.'' No one dreamt how awfully the meaning of that threat was to be proved. So far. beyond the shot in Fitzpatrick's arm, the Kellys had hurt no one, and Xed Kelly had'even "apologised" to Fitzpatrick for that, saying he would not have shot so good a fellow for anything if he had had time for thought, tie even offered to extract the bullet himself, and to bind up Fitzpatrick's arm. Thieves and cattle-stealers as the Kellys were, they had raised a murderous hand against non. One October day two constables, named Ixmcrgan and Melntyre, were sealed iu a wild spot near Stringy Baik Creek—a district almost impenetrable, and ocvercd with dense scrub. Having secured their horses, they were occupied in making tea, so as to have it ready for two of their companions—Sergeant Kennedy and Constable Seanlon— who had goiic to explore, on their return. Suddenly, from the woody shelter around, four men dashed out on horseback. They were Xed Kelly. Dan. and two others' who had joined them—loe Bvmes, and Steve Hart. '•Bail up! I'ut up your hands!"' cried the foremost, Xed Kelly; and as Lonergan's hand went to his revolver the eon stable reeled and fell dead—shot through the heart.

"He is dead," said Ned Kelly to McIntyre, who, seated beside the little lire they had lighted, had been to surprised to Vise. "He is dead. Don't be a fool like him, or you will .share his fate." Resistance "was hopeless, and Mclntyre gave in. He saw Ned Kelly drag the corpse aside, and hide it in the bush. -Remember, we shall shoot you like a dog," said Kelly, "if you do not obey us in what I tell you." When Kennedy and his companion came into camp a short time later they found It Tntyre seated by the lire alone.

"Sergeant," cried Mclntyre, "we're surrounded. Xed Kelly and his men are in the scrub around us, and we are covered by their rifles. You had better give in." The hands of Kennedy and his companion grasped their ritles, and a volley rang from the hidden outlaws in the. bush. Scanlon dropped to the earth, and Kennedy, hurriedly wheeling round to seek safety in (light, reeled in his saddle with a bullet through his heart, ana fell. As the riderless horse darted past Mclntyre he grasped the bridle, sprang upon its back, and dashed away for life. Appalled and enraged, the authorities offered a reward of £SOO for the capture of any member of the, gang, and police parties were hurriedly despatched in all directions. From the depths of Wombat Mountains the bushrangers appeared. The avengers of blood were ever too late.

"I am Ned Kelly. Do not be afraid. We only want some food for ourselves and for our horses." It was thus that Kelly, a month or two later, introduced himself and his three companions at a gentleman's station at Faithful's Creek, lie bad been encountered by one of the women workers, whose husband, seeing a stranger, came to ask his business. •'This is Mr. Ned Kelly." said the trembling woman to her husband. "He wants refa-hmeiils.'' -If hi' wants them." replied the man. eyeing Kelly's revolver, carried ill his hand, "lie must have them." The station was "stuck up." The terror of the bush rangers awed all into submission, and Kelly and bis j-aiig hud food and drink of the best, while they

were doing so a man named (Hosier drove up in a spring cart. (Mo-tor carried round for sale newly-made doilies Ned Kellv and his companions helped themselves to some suits remarkably like (hose worn by members of I lie mounted police. The bushranger hid recognised how useful they might be as disguises. Mr. Scott, the manager of the bank at Enron, a small town some miles from Faitlifull's Creek, was sealed in bis office the next afternoon, when a knock came. to the back door, t'pon Scott'.-, opening it, a'man apparently a constable, walked ill.

"Put up vi.ur bands!" he said, presenting a pislol at bis head. "I am Ned Kellv." The clerks had left, and the manager was alone and unarmed. "Open Ihe safe door." ordered Kelly, and in a few minutes (lie bushranger and his assm-i-il.*. were leaving Korea with CIWO in not.-, -old. ami silver, and thirlvoue ounces of smelted gold. Thev also laid hands on two revolver, and' live bags of cartridges. That last booty gave rise to sinister suspicions as to new crimes to which"the gang looked forward.

The robbers had <lMnppoai-c<l (.nee liuore to their fastnesses, leaving only the faintest traee to their whereabouts. The poliee, semiring hither awl thither, came sometimes upon the ashes of their fires. Onre or twiee the tires had bard ly expired; there were still red ember.-, among the ashes. The robbers imisi have tied but a few minutes before Ihir pursuers arrival. But Xed Kelly ami his gang still slipped through their lingers that were .-o eager to grasp them. Xed Kelly impudently sent a note to a Melbourne newspaper saying that the authorities should hear very soon of him again. Tlity did,

One Saturday night the bushrangers swooped down upon Uie pol cc station at Jeriideiie, a anvii-liiii of three hundred inhabitants. The next day the, citizens of dcrildeiie, on their way to their places of worship, liltio dreamt that liii' policemen tlU'.v encountered | were Ned Kelly and lii-: accomplices, attired in uniforms they had discovered ill Hi.' police station, and that their true defenders were safclv locked up in the poace cells ! .Ned Kelly had become their jailer ! lie was now bent on ''sticking up" tlie bank.

Never had X liaiik manager been more surprised than he of .Icriidcric when (he I b.ink was raided by an apparent police i foice. Tlie safe keys were demanded at I the muzzle of Kelly's revolver, and with over C2OOO in gold, silver and nates, Kelly and his men in blue gadope.l a- I way in a wild dash for safety to tlie wild ranges of the Su'atkbogio .Mountains. A ii-lralia stood aghast at Ih' anvi.icty of (he gang. Fresh hands yu4p.il ice. ami parlies of nniii-liunters were oipiip--IH-.I and sent out in their pursuit, fiach member had a roware. of LiillM o.i his | head—"dead or alive!" The polic sought to discover a lie.layer of the gang. hi a wild diMiict. near to the N| miltbogie Mountains, was the hut of a man named Aaron Sheniti. Aaron had been a .iio.-l intimate frend of the Nellys' ; and was even now engaged to the si-t.-r----of doe ISyrncs. If he woiml helrny (he Kelly gang to the police. Aaron woual lie rich : And the Kelly* trusted him ! Aaron Sherriti turned informer as to the gang's hiding-places, and ollicers iay hid in his tint ready to pounce on the bushrangers in case they ventured to visit their false friend. Four of the ollicers were in Aaron'hut one June night. All outside was in pitcli darkness. "Aaron! Aaron!'' cried a voice outaide. "Why, that's Weeks, the German market gardener,'' exclaimed Aaron to his hidden guests. "1 must see what he wants.' He went to the door, threw it open, and stood gazing for a moment into the night. From the darknos- came the Hash and report of a rifle, and Aaron Shcrritt fed across Ids threshold—sicati He had lieon shot by Joe Byrnes, who Jia.l learnt his treachery and the trap he had laid for him anrt his comrades. Sherritt had not been mistaken in the voice that lured him to death. It was that of Weeks. The Aelly gang had pounced on Mm, hanueuil'cil him, and carried him outside. Aaron Shcrriti's hut to act as a decoy. With a revolver placed at his head he had uttered that cry which had drawn Aaron forth to his death.

People who knew the Kellys, and who might have been tempted by the huge reward offered for their destruction to betray them, shrank back when they heart of Aaron Sherrilt's fate. '•The. Kellys are in Cficnrowan." Such was the telegraph message that was flashed round to Melbourne and other places one day in June, 1880, and by n special train a large draft of policewas at once dispatched to the place. Tile expres train rushed on through the night. Suddenly every brake was supplied. A strange figure had appeared in the darkness on the track—a man waving a red light. When he drew near, it whs found that- the I'ght was from a lantern covered by a red handkerchief. "For heaven's sake, don't go on 1" he gasped. "The Kelly gang have lorn up the line. If the express had gone round the turn in front, yon would have been hurled to death." He was right. He had prevented a fearful disaster. •'You will tind the gang in the (!lonrnwan Hotel." he said." They are drlnkimr and making merry. They have a lot of the (lienrowan men, women and children there as hostages." Leaving the train, the police dashed on. The hotel was a large building. From all its windows hlnzed lights. As the constables approached, the bushrangers opened fire. 'Somehow," said Ned Kelly, "we—the other fellows and I—seemed to recognise it was all up. When Joe Byrnes was shot as he was drinking at the bar our hearts fell."

The siege went on all night. Early in the grey light of dawn the police saw a tall fiiiurc dart from the hole! and seek to escape. A volley of bullets was poured into him, but he still strode on. Tie seemed impenetrable to bullets. One of the constable* shot at the figure's legs, and it fell to the ground. U was Xed Kelly, and he was wearing a strange suit of rough armor made of iron plates. Seventeen bullet* had struck those plates without harm to the wearer. Kelly had the aonor made for him by a blacksmith in the mountains. it weighed no less than !>7U>. What were the bushrangers up lo who still remained in the hotel';

They allowed ail the prisoners they had held to leave the place, and then a veil glare leapt tip insde. The plate wis on (ire! Til- police darted forward. The hotel was empty save for three ilen(l hoilies 1 viii>» on tile lloor of the liar —llyrnes, Dan Keliy and Steve Hart. The last two had committed suicide when they realised escape was hopeless. Ned Kelly alone of the notorious gang survived —to lie carried to prison, tried, found guilty of the deaths of Kennedy and his men. and to die on (he gallows. Such was the end of the must terrible gang of bushrangers Australia has ever seen.

"If it had not been for the day Fit* patrick came to the hut we w,ouid never have taken to the hush," declared Ned Kelly in his eel!. "We should never have lived these years of torture, expecting capture or death each dav. And this is the end! Well, I'm glad to die!"

The Chief Jusiiee, In I lie course of lome remarks on the indolence of some of the natives, and the way in which they squandered their money, strongly urged mem to give up these habits, and Ui cease loafing about towns and drinking. If they felt they could not these olu habits all at once, they should still make a start with good customs He again emphasised the fact that the race could not live unless it worked ils lands, and spoke strongly against the way ill which those of a tribe who did no work lived on the labor of those who did. The Maoris should not lie content to merely draw theii rents and live on the money; they should have some ambition to become good fanners. Mpcaking to an interviewer at Chrislehureh, Sir \V. Russell saiil it was a great pity that the capable men of the younger generation were blowing, so little dispo-ition to take.up public life. They were clearly failing in their duty to the Slate. It was not pleasant, as he knew, to stand in the forefront of a minority that appeared at times to be lighting a hopeless luiltle: hut surely there were young num in the'country who had higher ideals Ihan the achievement of immediate success. lie did not wish to underrate the good work thai was being done by members of the present Opposition, nor to ignore the sacrifices they were making: bid new blood was, sitdlv needed in Mi'e parte, and lie would iook upon his own defeat at the last election as a real blessing if it made room for the advent of some earnest young polilicait who would bear a capable part in the (lovcrnnirnt. of the country.