text: D’Utricht v. Melchor

title: D’Utricht v. Melchor


text: Oxley v. Oldden

license: Creative Commons - Attribution Share-Alike - https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/

title: Oxley v. Oldden


text:
Page:Tracks of McKinlay and party across Australia.djvu/266

 to be chained to-morrow for deciding the bets; it will be a close shave.

The natives are very much displeased at our remaining here; they are trying all they can for us to go, as no doubt we are disturbing their fishing arrangements, for we are close to the creek from our tent—one, two, three, and into the water. McKinlay is very little troubled about it, as he says in his journal, "Natives very much displeased at our remaining here, but until the weather suits my purpose better than it has done at present they must put up with it."

28th. The natives still at us to-day to decamp; they have got a fine story to-day that the floods are coming down, and that if we remain here much longer we shall be drowned, as the "arimitha," or native name for flood, is coming down, and has reached a certain place which McKinlay knows well; so he is off to-morrow to see if there be any truth in the assertion, and if there is to shift camp to some higher ground. We all hope not, as this is a jolly place, and we shall lose our splendid bath in the morning. We went out early this morning to decide the important bet of yesterday; the distance was 1376 yards, so Wylde loses £2, which never will be paid until we reach the settled districts once again.

29th. McKinlay and Middleton go out to see if there be any appearance of the said flood; it


text:
Page:Tracks of McKinlay and party across Australia.djvu/267

 will take some time to get there from the north on account of the many lakes and creeks it will have to fill on its way. They returned about 5, very hungry, as they generally were after a trip, and had seen no signs of a flood. There is seven or eight feet of water in this creek now, and first-rate water it is, but it is receding fast, for every morning we look to the gauge, a stick stuck in the mud graduated to inches, so that it is easily determined how much it recedes per diem; it is going at the rate of three-quarters of an inch a day.

I wonder if McKinlay will order us to dig a well here also; I should not be surprised, but there is enough water, provided it does not go bad, to last us for years; never mind if he does, there is nothing like healthy exercise, is there, reader? Talk of the old English game of cricket, it is nothing to digging wells when there is water close to camp; it keeps us from mischief and growling, and that is a great desideratum.

There are, McKinlay says, any number of natives up this creek, which is five or six miles long; he saw between 400 and 500. He did not go up to their whirlies, but from the number he saw he computed them as numerous as stated. There was a small camp close by, but they were gone to join the main body, for what reason deponent knoweth not, as we have never molested them. They pass


text:
Page:Tracks of McKinlay and party across Australia.djvu/268

 our camp with their nets to drag the creek; they ask McKinlay always before they do so, and he of course grants permission, and they return loaded with the scaly "paroo," or "multamulta" galover (native names of the fish generally caught); but they are not very generous with them, and should we get into a fix like poor Burke and party, we should fare but badly had we to trust to their hospitality.

30th. We gave our camels a good washing with soap and water to-day, and bathed them well, and are making little bags for seeds, as everybody is collecting the unknown productions of the north, and curiosities of all sorts. The flies are very troublesome, they are in millions, you may say; they bite, too, just a little nip; had we only a mosquito net large enough to get under at meal times! I have some net certainly, but not large enough to get under for protection from these pestilent little varmints. They come on your meat, and it is with difficulty that you can help eating numbers of them; but we are getting used to it now, like eels to skinning; should you happen to bite one—but, no, I will not say anything on that painful subject.

All the party, McKinlay included, with the exception of myself and Middleton, have been attacked with vomiting and griping after meals. They can keep nothing on their stomachs. Why


text:
Page:Tracks of McKinlay and party across Australia.djvu/269

 it should be so no one can tell, as we all eat from the same meat, and live precisely alike.

As I before mentioned that I thought the rations would soon be reduced it has come to pass, and next week they will be reduced to 5 lb. of flour a week, and I dare say very soon to 4 lb. It is better than having none. There are rations waiting for us at Finnis' Springs, to south-west, about 300 miles from our present position. Water is getting scarce below. I hope we shall not be locked up for the want of it. However, McKinlay Lake will be a good stand by, as I don't think that can ever go dry, on account of its depth, though it might go bad like the others, and we should be in a fix with bad water and reduced rations.

McKinlay says: "I wish it would rain, that I could start through the desert out of this, and get on to the waters north and west of this, and be doing something, as this sort of life is worse than hard work on the constitution." There is one thing, this detention here has enabled us to have the backs of the working animals attended to better than we otherwise could have done, and they are on splendid feed; but the flies and the excessive heat of the sun are two things against them, on account of the sores and wounds some of them have, and they will not readily heal. Several of the horses have been bled, but from the heat and


text: Levinz v. Will

title: Levinz v. Will


text:
Page:Tracks of McKinlay and party across Australia.djvu/270

 flies the necks of the animals have swollen much. This is the devil's own country for insects.

31st. Went out after camels, to see how they were getting on, and also to see that they had not rambled far from the feeding ground. On my return found McKinlay, Middleton, and "Nelmilly," native, gone off to "Cann-boog-o-nannie" Lake (Lake Jeannie), to see how the water was, and also to find an easier road for the cart to go towards "Moolionboorrana" Lake. They found a pretty good road, but the water quite unfit for use. The horses would not touch it, so they dug a little hole about eighteen inches from the water's edge, found most excellent water, and made some tea. What is it that turns the water bad? When we were there before it was first-rate. Is it the accumulated dung of the wild fowl, and the excessive heat of the sun, or what is it? This I leave to more scientific men than myself. Lots of natives round this lake. Found innumerable small fish, of the "parro" kind, washed up by the ripple of the lake; perhaps they are killed by the effect the water had on them.

Feb. 1st. Had a long walk with Ned this morning, and brought in the camels to get another cooling. Yes; orders are issued, the mandate has gone forth! a well is to be sunk to-day. Sunk it about five or six feet deep; awfully hard the ground. The fellows still sick after their meals; Ned very


text: Quesnel v. Mussi

title: Quesnel v. Mussi


text: Weird Tales/Volume 42/Issue 4/The Last Man


text: Parker v. Wood

title: Parker v. Wood


text:
Page:Tracks of McKinlay and party across Australia.djvu/271

 bad, also Maitland, but I have escaped the infliction. Betting going on to-day on all kinds of events; weather continues awfully hot, but the bathing is delicious; it cools us in the evening, and sets us up for the next day.

A circumstance occurred to-day that highly amused us all; our second in command had often said that the natives had real respect for him, and I believe he thought so; he was, however, doomed to be undeceived; he was ordered to tell some of the hangers-on to decamp. They certainly went, but jabbering something and applying the polinar face of the dexter hand sharply over the region of the glutus. I wonder what they said to him—a high compliment, I dare say. This may be a custom of the country and a mark of respect; I don't think he will put any more trust in the blacks, or spin yarns about their great respect for him. He must have felt very small when the roar of laughter from the camp reached his ears.

Feb. 2nd. Camp Hayward's Creek. Wylde ill to-day. The sickness still sticking to some of them. Camels washed again to-day. Hodgkinson and Middleton shot 27 pigeons to-day. They were in flocks of 100, feeding on the seeds of the grass, and rose the moment you got close to them; consequently the slaughter was greater than if they had been frightened. They made a nice change for our dinner and supper; some


text:
The Secret Cave, or John Lees Adventure

“Now be good children” Said Mrs. Lee “While I am away & dont get into mischief”. Mr. & Mrs. Lee were going off for the day & To leave The Two children John 10 yrs old & Alice 2 yrs old “Yes” replied John

As Soon as The Elder Lees were away the younger Lees went down cellar & began to rummage among the rubbish little alice leaned against the wall watching John. As John was making a boat of barrel staves the Little girl gave a piercing cry as the bricks behind her crumbled away he rushed up to her & Lifted her out screaming loudly as soon as her screams subsided she said “the wall went away” John went up & saw that there was a passage he said to the little girl “lets come & see what this is” “Yes” she said the entered the place they could stand up it the passage was farther than they could see they John went back upstairs & went to the kitchen drawer & got 2 candles & some matches & then they went back to the cellar passage. the two once more entered there was plastering on the walls ceiling & floor nothing was visible but a box this was for a seat nevertheless they examined it & found it to contain nothing the walked on farther & pretty soon the plastering left off & they were in a cave Little alice was frightened at first but at her brothers assurance that it was “all right” she allayed her fears. soon they came to a small box which John took up & carried within pretty soon they came on a boat in it were two oars he dragged it with difficulty along with him soon they found the passage came to an abrupt stop he pulled the obstacle away & to his dismay water rushed in in torrents John was an expert swimmer & long breathede he had Just taken a breath so he tried to rise but with the box & his sister he found it quite impossible then he caught sight of the boat rising he grasped it. . ..

The next he knew he was on the surface clinging tightly to the body of his sister & the mysterious box he could not imagine how the water got in but a new peril menaced them if the water continued rising it would rise to the top suddenly a thought presented itself. he could shut off the water he speedily did this & lifting the now lifeless body of his sister into the boat he himself climed in & sailed down the passage it was gruesome & uncanny absolutely dark his candle being put out by the flood & a dead body lying near he did not gaze about him but rowed for his life when he did look up he was floating in his own cellar he quickly rushed up stairs with the body, to find his parents had come home He told them the story

*     *      *      *      *      *

The funeral of alice occupied so much time that John quite forgot about the box—but when they did open it they found it to be a solid gold chunk worth about $10,000 enough to pay for any thing but the death of his sister.

title: The Secret Cave, or John Lees Adventure


text:
Page:Tracks of McKinlay and party across Australia.djvu/272

 done on the ashes, some stewed, and some put into a pie. They were exceedingly nice, and very fat. The water in the creek decreasing fast, bathed as usual. Of course did not work at the well, being Sunday.

3rd. When bringing in the camels to-day saw a flock of geese; had two shots at them with ball, but they were very shy, and we could not get near enough to them.

At the well to-day. Hard and hot work. Came to water; although only a few yards from the creek, which was fine, nice water, that in the well was as salt as brine; so much so that you could not touch it, so all our labour is thrown away. McKinlay thinks that if all the water be baled out in the morning it may come fresh afterwards. I don't expect any such result, but seeing is believing; perhaps he may be right. The only motive for digging a well was that a change of water was desirable, as McKinlay fancied it was the water in the creek that had something to do with the sickness; but we must still stick to the creek, and make the best of it. I rather think a change of diet would do some good; constantly eating the same thing day after day is bad, I know. No vegetables. The greater part of our food is flesh, with a small modicum of bread. No wonder we get indisposed.

4th. We baled out the water this morning.


text: Holmes v. Comegys

title: Holmes v. Comegys


text:
The Mysterious Ship

[Short Version]

The Royal Press 1902

Chapter 1.

In the spring of 1847, the little village of Ruralville was thrown into a state of exitement by the arrival of a strange brig in the harbour. It carried no flag, & everything about it was such as would exite suspicion. It had no name. Its captain was named Manuel Ruello. The exitement increased however when John Griggs dissapeared from his home. This was Oct. 4. on Oct. 5 the brig was gone.

Chapter 2.

The brig, in leaving, was met by a U.S. Frigate and a sharp fight ensued. When over, they* missed a man. named Henry Johns.

* (The Frigate.)

Chapter 3.

The brig continued its course in the direction of Madagascar, upon its arrival, The natives fled in all directions. When they came together on the other side of the island, one was missing. His name was Dahabea.

Chapter 4.

At length it was decided that something must be done. A reward of £5,000 was offered for the capture of Manuel Ruello., When startling news came, a nameless brig was wrecked on the Florida Keys.

Chapter 5.

A ship was sent to Florida, and the mystery was solved. In the exitement of the fight they would launch a sub-marine boat and take what they wanted. there it lay, tranquilly rocking on the waters of the Atlantic when someone called out “John Brown has dissapeared.” And sure enough John Brown was gone.

Chapter 6.

The finding of the sub-marine boat, and the dissapearance of John Brown, caused renewed exitement amongst the people, when a new discovery was made. In transcribing this discovery it is necessary to relate a geographical fact. At the N. Pole there exists a vast continent composed of volcanic soil, a portion of which is open to explorers. It is called “No-Mans Land.”

Chapter 7.

In the extreme southern part of No-Mans Land, there was found a hut, and several other signs of human habitation. they promptly entered, and, chained to the floor, lay Griggs, Johns, & Dahabea. They, upon arriving in London, separated, Griggs going to Ruralville, Johns to the Frigate, & Dahabea to Madagascar.

Chapter 8.

But the mystery of John Brown was still unsolved, so they kept strict watch over the port at No-Mans Land, and when the sub-marine boat arrived, and the pirates, one by one, and headed by Manuel Ruello, left the ship, they were met by a rapid fire. After the fight brown was recovered.

Chapter 9.

Griggs was royally recieved at Ruralville, & a dinner was given in honour of Henry Johns, Dahabea was made King of Madagascar., & Brown was made Captain of his ship.

THE END.

[Long Version]

By Anonymus

In the Spring of 1847, the little village of Ruralville was thrown into a state of excitement by the landing of a strange Brig in the harbour. It carried no flag, and no name was painted on its side, and everything about it was such as would excite suspicion. It was from Tripoli, Africa, and the captain was named Manuel Ruello. The Excitement increased, however; when John Griggs, (The magnate of the villiage) suddenly disappeared from his home. This was the night of October 4th—on October 5th the Brig left.

Chapter II

It was 8 bells on the U.S. Frigate “Constitution” when Commander Farragut sighted a strange brig to the westward. It carried no flag, and no name was painted on its side, and everything about it was such as would excite suspicion. On hailing it put up the Pirates Flag. Farragut ordered a gun fired and no sooner did he fire, than the pirate ship gave them a broadside when the Fight was over Commander Farragut Missed one man named Henry F. Johns.

Chapter III

It was Summer on the Island of Madagascar. And Natives were picking corn, when one cried “Companions! I sight a ship! with no flag and with no name printed on the side and with everything about it such as would excite Suspicion!” And The Natives fled in all directions when They came together on The other side of The Island one was missing his name was Dahabea.

Chapter IV

At length it was Decided Something must be done, Notes were compared. Three abductions were found to have taken place Dissapearance of John Griggs, Henry John, & Dahabea, were recalled. Finally Advertisements were issued offering £5000 reward for the capture of Manuel Ruello, Ship, Prisoners, & crew. When exciting News reached London! An unknown Brig with no name was wrecked of The Florida Keys in America!

Chapter V

The People Hurried to Florida and Beheld———. A steel spindle shaped object Lay placidly on the water Beside the shattered wreck of The brig. “A Submarine Boat”! shouted one “Yes!” shouted another “The mystery is cleared” said a wise looking man. “In the excitement of the fight they launch the submarine boat and take as many as they wish, unseen. And———.” “John Brown has disappeared”! shouted a voice from the deck. Sure enough John Brown was gone!

Chapter VI

The Finding of The Submarine boat and the dissapearance of John Brown caused renewed excitement among the People, and a new discovery was made. In relating this discovery It is necessary to relate a geographical Fact:— At the North Pole there is supposed to exist a vast continent composed of volcanic soil, a portion is open to travellers and explorers but it is barren and unfruitful. and thus absolutely Impassable. It is called “No-Mans Land.”

Chapter VII

In the Extreme southern part of No-Mans Land There was found a wharf and a hut &c and every sign of former human habitation. A rusty door-plate was nailed to the hut inscribed in old English “M. Ruello.” This, then, was the home of Michael Ruello. the house brought to light a note book belonging to John Griggs, and The Log of the “Constitution” taken from Henry Johns, and the Madagascar Reaper belong To Dahabea.

Chapter VIII

When about to leave, they Observed a spring on the side of the hut. They pressed it.—A hole appeared in the side of the hut which they promptly entered. They were in a subterranean cavern, the beach ran down to the edge of a black, murky, sea. on the sea lay a dark oblong object—viz another Submarine boat which they entered. There bound to the cabin Floor Lay Griggs, Johns, and Dahabea, all alive and well. They, when arriving in London, separated, Griggs going to Ruralville, Johns, To the Constitution and Dahabea to Madagascar.

Chapter IX

But The mystery of John Brown lay still unsolved. So They Kept strict watch over the port at no-mans Land, Hoping The Submarine Boat would arrive. At length, however, it did arrive bearing with it John Brown. They Fixed upon the 5th of October For the Attack. They ranged along the shore and Formed Bodies. Finally one by one and Headed by Manuel Ruello The Pirates left the Boat. They were (to their astonishment) Met By a Rapid Fire.

Chapter X

Conclusion

The Pirates were at Length defeated and a search was made for Brown. At Length he (the aforesaid Brown) was found. John Gregg was royally received at Ruralville and a dinner was

Dahabea was made King of Madagascar, and Manuel Ruello was Executed at Newgate Prison.

The End

title: The Mysterious Ship


text:
Page:Tracks of McKinlay and party across Australia.djvu/273

 This well is now some fifteen feet deep, layers of sand chiefly, so it is continually caving in. The water flows in fast, but as salt as ever, though, strange to say, it lathers well with soap. Men mending their shirts; some of us have variegated ones already with the different coloured patches; no one was ill to-day after meals.

McKinlay went off on a ramble to-day to look up the niggers and see where they had gone. As they all seem to have left our vicinity, he fancies that it may be a ruse to lull us into a feeling of security, and so put us off our guard, and some night come down and give us a dressing. Poor deluded gentlemen of colour! if such be your notions, believe me, you have the wrong man to deal with if you think to catch our leader napping. Just after McKinlay started some five or six came down to fish in the creek.

5th. I drew a bucket of water from the well this morning, and it was as salt, if not more so, than before. Mending clothes and cribbage the order of the day. The weather warm towards six; hot indeed.

6th. Wind warm to-day, with thunder and lightning. It appears to be raining in various places, though it does not appear likely we shall get any. We have been so often deceived that it is no use going by appearances any longer up here. The wind chopped round to the south, and it became very hot and oppressive.


text:
The Mystery of the Grave-Yard

Chapter I The Burns’s Tomb.

It was noon in the Little village of Mainville, and a sorrowful group of people were standing around the Burns’s Tomb. Joseph Burns was dead. (when dying, he had given the following strange orders:—“Before you put my body in the tomb, drop this ball onto the floor, at a spot marked “A”.” he then handed a small golden ball to the rector.) The people greatly regretted his death. After The funeral services were finished, Mr Dobson (the rector) said, “My friends, I will now gratify the last wishes of the deceased. So saying, he descended into the tomb. (to lay the ball on the spot marked “A”) Soon the funeral party Began to be impatient, and after a time Mr. Cha’s. Greene (the Lawyer) descended to make a search. Soon he came up with a frightened face, and said, “Mr Dobson is not there”!

Chapter II Mysterious Mr. Bell.

It was 3.10 o’clock in ye afternoone whenne The door bell of the Dobson mansion rang loudly, and the servant on going to the door, found an elderly man, with black hair, and side whiskers. He asked to see Miss Dobson. Upon arriving in her presence he said, “Miss Dobson, I know where your father is, and for £10,000 I will restore him. My name is Mr. Bell.” “Mr. Bell,” said Miss Dobson, “will you excuse me from the room a moment?” “Certainly”. replied Mr Bell. In a short time she returned, and said, “Mr. Bell, I understand you. You have abducted my father, and hold him for a ransom”

Chapter III At The Police Station.

It was 3.20 o’clock in the afternoon when the telephone bell at the North End Police Station rang furiously, and Gibson, (the telephone Man) Inquired what was the matter,

“Have found out about fathers dissapearance”! a womans voice said. “Im Miss Dobson, and father has been abducted, “Send King John”! King John was a famous western detective. Just then a man rushed in, and shouted, “Oh! Terrors! Come To the Graveyard!”

Chapter IV The West window.

Now let us return to the Dobson Mansion. Mr Bell was rather taken aback by Miss Dobson’s plain speaking, but when he recovered his speech he said, “Don’t put it quite so plain, Miss Dobson, for I—” He was interrupted by the entrance of King John, who with a brace of revolvers in his hands, barred all egress by the doorway. But quicker than thought Bell sprang to a west window,—and jumped.

Chapter V The Secret of The grave.

Now let us return to the station house. After the exited visitor had calmed somewhat, he could tell his story straighter. He had seen three men in the graveyard shouting “Bell! Bell! where are you old man!?” and acting very suspiciously. He then followed them, and they entered The Burns’s Tomb! He then followed them in and they touched a spring at a point marked “A” and then Dissapeared”. “I wish king John were here”, Said Gibson, “What’s your name,”? “John Spratt”. replied the visitor.

Chapter VI The chase for Bell.

Now let us return To the Dobson Mansion again:—King John was utterly confounded at the Sudden movement of Bell, but when he recovered from his surprise, his first thought was of chase. Accordingly, he started in pursuit of the abductor. He tracked him down to the R. R. Station and found to his dismay that he had taken the train for Kent, a large city toward the south, and between which and Mainville there existed no telegraph or telephone. The train had Just Started!

Chapter VII The Negro Hackman.

The Kent train started at 10.35, and about 10.36 an exited, dusty, and tired man$1$ rushed into the Mainville hack. office and said to a negro hackman who was standing by the door—“If you can take me to Kent in 15 minutes I will give you a dollar”. “I doan’ see how I’m ter git there”, said the negro “I hab’n’t got a decent pair of hosses an’ I hab—” “Two Dollars”! Shouted The Traveller, “all right” said the Hackman.

 * $1$ King John.

Chapter VIII Bells Surprise.

It was 11 o’clock at Kent, all of the stores were closed but one, a dingy, dirty, little shop, down at the west end. It lay between Kent Harbour, & the Kent & Mainville R.R. In the Front room a shabbily dressed person of doubtful age was conversing with a middle aged woman with gray haire, “I have agreed to do the job, Lindy,” he said, “Bell will arrive at 11.30 and the carraige is ready to take him down to the wharf, where a ship for Africa sails to-nighte”.

“But If King John were to come?” queried “Lindy”

“Then we’d get nabbed, an’ Bell would be hung” Replied The man.

Just then a rap sounded at the door “Are you Bell”? inquired Lindy “Yes” was the response, “And I caught the 10.35 and King John got Left, so we are all right”. At 11.40 the party reached The Landing, and saw a ship Loom up in the darkness. “The Kehdive” “of Africa” was painted on the hull, and Just as they were to step on board, a man stepped forward in the darkness and said “John Bell, I arrest you in the Queen’s name”!

It was King John.

Chapter IX The Trial.

The daye of The Trial had arrived, and a crowd of people had gathered around the Little grove, (which served for a court house in summer) To hear the trial of John Bell on the charge of kid-napping. “Mr. Bell,” said the judge “what is the secret of the Burns’s tomb”

“I well tell you this much” said Bell, “If you go into the tomb and touch a certain spot marked “A” you will find out”

“Now where is Mr Dobson”? queried the judge, “Here”! said a voice behind them, and The figure of Mr Dobson HIMSELF loomed up in the doorway.

“How did you get here”!&c was chorused. “’Tis a long story,” said Dobson.

Chapter X Dobson’s Story.

“When I went down into the tomb,” Said Dobson, “Everything was darkness, I could see nothing. but Finally I discerned the letter “A” printed in white on the onyx floor, I dropped the ball on the Letter, and immediately a trap-door opened and a man sprang up. It was this man, here,” (he said (pointing at Bell, who stood Trembling on the prisoner’s docke) “and he pulled me down into a brilliantly lighted, and palatial apartment where I have Lived until to-day. One day a young man rushed in and exclaimed “The secret Is revealed!” and was gone. He did not see me. Once Bell left his key behind, and I took the impression in wax, and the next day was spent in filing keys to fit the Lock. The next day my key fitted. and the next day (which is to-day) I escaped.”

Chapter XI The Mystery unveiled.

“Why did the late J. Burns, ask you to put the ball there”? (at “A”?) queried the Judge? “To get me into trouble” replied Dobson “He, and Francis Burns, (his brother) have plotted against me for years, and I knew not, in what way they would harm me”. “Sieze Francis Burns”! yelled the Judge.

Chapter XII Conclusion.

Francis Burns, and John Bell, were sent to prison for life. Mr Dobson was cordially welcomed by his daughter, who, by the way had become Mrs King John. “Lindy” and her accomplice were sent to Newgate for 30 days as aidors and abbettors of a criminal escape.

The End.

Price 25¢

title: The Mystery of the Grave-Yard


text: Phillips v. Hyde

title: Phillips v. Hyde


text:
Page:Tracks of McKinlay and party across Australia.djvu/274

 Middleton and Hodgkinson are to start off to-morrow morning for Lake McKinlay, to ascertain for certain if that lake still continues to hold abundance of water, and also if it be good; and also on their way, en passant, to see if Lake "Moolion-boorrana" will suit for a stage to camp at on the way to Lake McKinlay, should we go there, as it did not contain much water when we were there last, and he has his (McKinlay' s) doubts on the subject. McKinlay is quite certain that the water here is affecting us, and he wishes to go to the lake for a change, and remain there till it rains, so as to be able to cross the desert. Natives that come into camp to-day report that lots of rain has fallen to the east and north-east beyond Lake Sir Richard and Lake Blanche.

7th. Mr. Hodgkinson and native started at 7·30 this morning for Lake McKinlay, to see, as before mentioned, the supply of water there. Weather on the change, I think; it blew very strong from the south-east last night. Very cloudy, but no rain to speak of all day; it has been cloudy and cool, and there is really now some chance, I think, of our getting some rain. Plenty of thunder and lightning to-day.

8th. Raining splendidly; steady down-pour last night, with strong wind from south-east; some thunder. Everything looks refreshed; the little birds are


text: Adams v. La Comb

title: Adams v. La Comb


text:
Page:Tracks of McKinlay and party across Australia.djvu/275

 chirping merrily, and the old crows pleading their own cause vociferously. The flies, however, are worse, being driven into the tents and whirlies by the rain. The walking this morning was anything but pleasant, the mud being up and over our ankles, and it stuck so to our boots that it was with difficulty we could get ahead at all; and having to go three miles to bring up the camels, it became a very tiring job. The camels themselves could hardly make a walk of it at all, and were more like cats in walnut-shells on ice than anything I recollect having seen.

I expect we shall be able to start for the Desert to-morrow or the next day, as there must be abundance of water now in the claypans and holes, more than sufficient for our purpose. McKinlay has ordered all horses that require it to be shod, so I suppose the Stony Desert is the trip before us, and then on to Finnis' Springs to get our rations. Some of the flour we have been eating lately has had a very peculiar taste; indeed, some of it had got a touch of the naphtha or paraffine that was put on top of it, in its transit from Port Augusta to Blanchewater, and perhaps that has been the cause of the illness, and not the water. Middleton, Hodgkinson, and native returned. They report lots of rain-water this side of Lake McKinlay, and plenty in the lake itself, and good, with lots of natives on the banks; but as the rain has


text:
User talk:75.27.101.89

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title: User talk:75.27.101.89


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 fallen so well and abundantly, we shall not go there, but proceed at once to the Desert.

9th. It is still raining, and the ground as soft as possible—in fact, too soft to travel over, so we shall not go to-day. The blacks are all away over the sand hills to catch lizards and other things to eat. The rain has proved a godsend to them, as well as to us. No holiday to-day, for we have had to work like coolies to get all ready for to-morrow, as we shall certainly start in the morning if it does not rain. McKinlay thinks there will be abundance of water to take us across this time. I hope he will not be disappointed. We shall all miss our nice bathing, which I am sure has been the means of keeping us all much better than if we had been without it. All ready for a start by tea-time, so there will be nothing to delay us in the morning that we know of at present. Hurrah for the road once again!


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 THE GREAT STONY DESERT.

reader, in entering upon this long chapter, may conjecture that there is nothing before him but a wearying uniformity of arid wastes. The account we have given in the last chapter, extracted from Mr. McKinlay's journal, of his four days' excursion into the Desert, will have done nothing to prevent such a conjecture. The description given by the travellers of a scene so wonderfully different in its character when they had entered this Desert, is most striking, and is well worthy of the attention of those who would know of all the peculiarities


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 and vicissitudes by which Australia is distinguished. The expedition waits for rain to enable it to cross the "Desert." We have already gathered some experience of what all the country hereabouts may be reduced to when for a long time deprived of rain. Now the party are to see what are the effects of the rain, when it does at length pour down, upon even the most sterile parts—the stony plains and sand hills.

Heavy rains fall, which appear to be general over a large area, especially northwards in the line of the expedition's subsequent march. In a fortnight the capacious creek-beds, previously quite dry, or interspersed with only a few water-holes, are the channels of great bodies of water, rising momentarily in their level to overflow upon the plains, while the plains themselves are in some parts already shallow lakes. The most of these creeks seemed to have been dry for some time before. "The running of the creek" is quite an event in many parts of colonized Australia, where the creek is, perhaps, for nearly all the year, or for several years together, merely a chain of ponds or natural cisterns. The creek may not "run" at any particular station, after even weeks of pouring rain, because all the waters are being meantime absorbed in filling up the successive natural cisterns of its upper course. But with a roar they come at last, sweeping all before them with the


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 flood. Our travellers experienced such a flood in the midst of the Desert, which this chapter finds them entering upon, and Mr. Davis's journal graphically describes its incidents.

The dangers experienced by the expedition from these recurring floods, suggest to Mr. Davis that Leichhardt's party may have been lost in one of them some fourteen years before, and Mr. McKinlay is disposed to the same view. The head-ornament made of goat's hair, found in a "whirlie," or temporary shelter of the wandering natives, seems, as Davis thinks, to confirm this view, for where could these natives have procured goat's hair except from the flock of goats taken by Leichhardt on his second and fatal expedition? We are doubtful, however, of an Australian belle (if indeed she claimed the ornament) bestowing such long lasting care upon any of her bijouterie, especially when she leaves it at last in what seems a deserted whirlie. Leichhardt's party were long since reported to have been all killed by natives. Perhaps this is the least likely of the several alternatives, as Leichhardt, an experienced traveller, had a force adequate to resist any attack the usually timid natives were capable of. Starvation was one probable fate; the other we see in our travellers' experience of sudden and tumultuous floods.

Under the genial rain, the dry surface promptly


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 changes its aspect. The ground, where it is not sand and stones, is mud, impeding the march at every step. For a short time the well-moistened surface exhibits no trace of life. "Nothing green," says McKinlay's journal of 13th February, the third day after starting, "except in the bed of the creek and the trees. The whole country looks as if it had been carefully ploughed, harrowed, and finally rolled, the farmer having omitted the seed." This naked, lifeless aspect soon, however, disappears beneath the verdure called forth by the moisture and the warm air. The plains become covered with pasture. Even "the stony hills and slopes," says McKinlay, on 8th March, "where, from their bronzed and desert appearance a few days ago, one would suppose grass never grew, are now being clothed in many places with a nice green coating, and shortly will give this place quite a lively appearance. When I first saw it, it was as desolate a looking spot as one could picture." He goes on to say, on 19th March, "passed through some magnificent country—one plain extending several miles, and well grassed. The weather, magnificent and quite tropical; the perfume of the flowers quite refreshing." Mr. Davis's account, further on in this chapter, is even more striking. The reader must remember that we are here still in the great Stony Desert, a fact of which the leader's journal keeps us well in mind, for it is stated, after


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 two days' progress beyond this gay, luxuriant scene, "our journey to-day (21st March) was over nothing but red sand hills."

How, then, are we to know when we are in and when we are out of the Desert? Is it when we quit the fragrant region of flowers, and emerge into more ordinary scenery, that we know we have left the region of sand and stones? But the Desert has still its recognizable features throughout. The red sand hills protrude everywhere, varied by stony plains. Hill ranges appear on the horizon, but they are soilless and treeless masses of rock. Timber, if there is any, is confined to the beds of creeks, and there too, in protected spots, may be permanent, or comparatively permanent, grass; but the surface generally is bare under the scorching of sun and drought, excepting on those fitful occasions when the rain, as with a magician's wand, covers the country with beauty—a beauty, however, that may disappear almost as promptly as it came. These are the features of our Australian desert, and let us watch when they cease. On 23rd March there are some ameliorative symptoms. A white gum-tree flat is passed over; the trees are not very large, but the stony character is less conspicuous. The next day the wooded hills of Scott's Range appear in the distance. This last symptom coming upon the others preceding, we take to be decisive, so we close the Desert, and the chapter that describes it,


text: McCullough v. Houston

title: McCullough v. Houston


text: Cummings v. Lynn

title: Cummings v. Lynn


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 with the 23rd March. Just six weeks had been spent in traversing it.

The Desert was the place of trial for the merits of the camels, and they appear to have come off quite triumphant. Mr. McKinlay says, under date 10th March, "The camels travelled over the stones with their loads apparently quite unconcerned; they are undoubtedly the best of all animals for this kind of work; they eat anything nearly, from the gum-tree down to the smallest herb, and then come and lie down beside you; whereas, horses and bullocks, if there be any lack of food, will wander all over the country." He also greatly commends the sheep. Speaking, on 26th February, of delay and trouble with the other animals, a bullock having dropped down almost dead under the heat, he remarks, "None of our journeys appear to give the sheep the slightest inconvenience, and they are as ready to commence their journey in the morning as the man who attends them; in fact, no party ought ever to go out exploring in the summer months without them."

10th. The cart and sheep started at 7 ; the horses and camels some time after, as usual. Our course lies somewhere about north-west. We passed over sand hills to the other side of the lake, and then over alternate sand hills and flats for nine or ten miles, and passing on our way a salt lake.


text: Quesnel v. Mussy

title: Quesnel v. Mussy


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 "Warma-ga-la-dhailie" is its name, and a very pretty one too. The ground is very soft, and, consequently, very heavy travelling. Before leaving, we set fire to our little dwellings, and very soon the "whirlies" were among the things of the past. We shall go a long stage to-day, and hope to find our expectations realized anent the water in the claypans and holes. Some of the water that is caught in the stony hollows is as clear as crystal, while that in the claypans is thick and muddy to a degree; the former is delicious. We camped under a bush, as there is not a tree to be seen. We did not do so till late, having passed the cart and sheep miles back. I do not expect they will be up to-night. There is nothing for the horses to eat, and only a few bushes for the camels. The latter part of the journey over sand-ranges, spinifex, and stony flooded flats, then over sand hill and part of Stony Desert, where we camp on the stones. Hard sleeping to-night. The last part of the way has not so much water as the first. We must do the best we can to-night, and we shall have a nice time of it, watching the animals to prevent them from straying; for, should they do so, it would be almost impossible to track them over the stones, which are quite brown, and look as if they had been packed, and very much water or weather worn. It is a curious sight, such an extent of bronzed surface, without


text: Hooton v. Will

title: Hooton v. Will


text: Primer v. Kuhn

title: Primer v. Kuhn


text: Græme v. Harris

title: Græme v. Harris


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 thing but perhaps a small bush to break the view.

The cart not up, so we shall make a few scons of some seconds flour, boil a pot of tea each, and then to bed. I have the first watch, and a nice time it will be, rounding up all the horses, and keeping them together. I am mounted, however, so that I can get after the brutes quicker and better. It is rather dark here, too, which makes it worse.

The camels were brought in and tied up, to prevent their being non inventi in the morning. A few natives are seen looking for snakes and lizards, etc.—in fact, anything that has been driven to the hills by the wet. How would you, reader, like to sit down to a snake and lizard supper, served up with that best of all sauces—hunger?

11th. At daylight this morning, Mr. McKinlay, by the aid of his binocular, discovered the cart and sheep about two miles off, wending their weary way to camp. They arrived shortly after. The bullocks were taken out and watered, etc., while we got our breakfast. The meal was soon concluded, and away we went to bring up the horses, etc., and prepare for a start. We shall go a short stage to-day, as one of the bullocks got knocked up, and caused the delay on the road yesterday. We start, and continue our journey over the same


text: Thompson v. Musser

title: Thompson v. Musser


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 uninteresting flat of brown stone, with little or no herbage; some high sand hills to our right and left some way off. We then crossed over the one to the left, and camped on the other side where there was some water. No feed here to speak of. We had to kill a sheep, the meat on the cart being unfit for food. We left the old bullock to go by himself to-day, and he was driven into camp some time after we arrived by the man left in charge of him. I fear he won't go much further, as he is so fat, and feels the heat so much. We with the camels picked up the water-keg, which had fallen off the dray, and a sack containing rations. We soon whipped them up on the camels. The bullock-driver was unconscious of his loss.

I never travelled through a more uninteresting country in all my life. As soon as we got to camp, down came the rain, and we had to get such shelter as we could, as it was too windy to put up the tents; the ground being light sand, the pegs would not stand a minute; so we had to grin and bear it. We got tolerably well soaked, as it came down with a will. I had a long and wet walk this evening with the camels to a creek some three miles off, as there was nothing for them to eat but a few bushes, and they wandered in search of something more palatable; and when they do begin that game they will go for miles, even in hobbles. I brought them back, and they were


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 tied up, so I shall not have far to look for them.

In the morning, on crossing the large plain, we found large stones, much larger than any we had seen before, placed side by side, marking out squares, circles, and different kinds of figures as far as the eye could reach; what these were for we could not make out. I suppose the blacks hold merrymakings here, or something of the sort; to-morrow perhaps we shall know all about it, till then it must remain a problem to be solved. Distance to-day nine or ten miles; several sand hills, some distance from them where we are camped, this is called (the large hill where we are camped) "Canna-cannan-thainya." The natives who accompany us are very useful in this way, and point out to the governor the different hills and creeks, and tell him their names. We had a steady rain last night for about three hours, but this morning it is fine and cool. There is plenty of water all along the route, we can see it from the high sand hill.

12th. The dray started as usual before us. We crossed a large sand range called "Malla-poorpo-nannie." The country generally is very uninteresting. The greater part of the day's journey we crossed several small creeks, most of them running. The female camel gave us a great deal Of trouble to-day, she did not like facing the running water; she detained us most seriously.


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 Mr. McKinlay thus describes in his journal the country passed through to-day:—

"'12th. Steady rain for about four hours last night, and this morning breaks fine and clear, with a wind north. Plenty of water lying all over the Desert. Dray started at 7·40, and at six and three-quarter miles distant got to Malla-poorponannie sand range, the southern end of which is called Cookorda; about two miles off its northern end dwindles down to nothing in the Desert. To the northern end of Coontarie sand range, a creek and well by the same name; about twelve miles off, a detached sand range in the desert, at the north-west end of which are two waters, named respectively Dhooramoorco and Moongaara; also on north-east side of sand range another water in creek called Cadry-yerra, also a sand range about four to five miles distant. There was a number of small detached sand hills going round to the westward, then a perfect blank round to Coontarie well. At about three to four miles struck the flooded flat from the main creek I am now going to. At eleven and a half miles further came to and crossed a deep creek crossing my course at right angles. At two miles further came to water in Daeragolie Creek, same creek that I crossed before two miles from this; within this last two miles the whole flat is cut up into innumerable channels most difficult to travel over, I must therefore see and get a better road for the cart. Here there is not a green blade of grass to be seen; there are some green shrubs in the bed of the creek that the camels are fond of. I arrived at this camp at 2·5 ; distance travelled to-day, twenty- three and a half miles. This is an immense creek, timbered on its bank with box, bean, and other trees, the water is in detached holes, but good, and apparently plenty of fish and ducks.'"

The cart not up to-night as usual. Mr. McKinlay talks of abandoning it and packing the bullocks; it has been a great drawback to


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 us and no mistake, still it has been exceedingly useful.

There is very bad feed for the horses here, but capital for the camels. No niggers to be seen, or any signs of them, so we shall have no watch to keep to-night, the first time for some months. Thank goodness we are camped on a fine creek with plenty of water. We had to get our supper of scons baked on the coals, and a pot of tea: we shall not get fat at this rate however.

13th. The cart on its way this morning got upset into a creek close by, no damage done. Bell having been sent to look after it, returned with the above intelligence; it shortly after arrived.

Mr. McKinlay and Hodgkinson go out to look for a good crossing place for it and the animals, as we are to cross this creek, which is very steep, some fifty or sixty feet down almost perpendicular banks. Middleton also goes out to see if he can find a ford close by for the horses, as there is splendid feed here for the camels though bad for horses. The food the camels are so fond of is a tall thin shrub, bearing a very pretty flower, there being three or four varieties, alike in growth and leaf, but differing in the colour of the bloom, some yellow, others white and purple.

Our breakfast was the ditto of last night's supper—a scon and a pot of tea; the cart not coming up, and containing as usual all our


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 Page 8. Nevertheless we are thy people (אֲבַל אֲנַחְנוּ עַמְּךָ). This translation suits better the version which closes the previous paragraph with a citation of the Biblical text Isaiah xl. 15. A preferable rendering for our P.B. reading would be: "Verily we are thy people." Some phrases of this paragraph are found in the Midrash (Mechilta) on Exodus xv. 19 (ed. Friedmann, p. 44 a); cf. also the Midrash Yalkut, §253. Abraham thy friend (2 Chron. xx. 7, comp. Isaiah xli. 8). Isaac his only son (Genesis xxii. 2). The older reading was "Isaac thine only one (יְחִידְךָ)," i.e. the one uniquely offered to thee (God) on the altar. Jacob thy first-born son (Exodus iv. 22). Jeshurun is a poetical name for Israel (Deut. xxxii. 15, Isaiah xliv. 2), and probably means "upright" (from יָשָׁר). It may have been intended to replace Jacob, which had some unhappy implications (Professor Bacher ingeniously quotes Isaiah xl. 4, וְהָיָה הֶעֶקֹב לְמִישׁוֺר as illustrating the change from Jacob to Jeshurun). But the Septuagint Greek translation of the Bible invariably translates Jeshurun by "beloved" (GREEK TEXT), and it is to this view that the liturgy refers in the words: Whose name thou didst call Israel and Jeshurun by reason of the love where with thou didst love him. (The verb יָשַׁר sometimes means to be pleasing, as in Judges xiv. 3, a sense easily passing over to love.)

Morning and evening, twice every day declare Plear O Israel, etc. On the recitation of this passage (called from its first word shema, שְׁמַע), and on the responsive doxology Blessed be his name (בָּרוּךְ שֵׁם כְּבוֹד מַלְכוּתוֹ), see notes on P.B. page 40. The introduction of the first verse (Deut. vi. 4) at this place is due to the desire to recite it as early in the day as possible. Originally the passage was read at daybreak. The Shema at first consisted only of the opening verse (Talmud, Tractate Succah 42a, Berachoth 13b). Some mediaeval authorities hold that the Shema was inserted here because, during periods of persecution, its recitation was prohibited in its usual place. Cf. notes on P.B. page 7.


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 The three young people who entered, arm in arm, looked as out of place in such a shop as three children at a board meeting. The girl, a vivacious brunette with a large diamond solitaire on her left hand, linked the two men together—one a tall, easygoing Norse blond, the other small, wiry, and dark, with sensitive features that resembled those of the girl. They stood for a moment, laughing and chattering together—but in lowered tones, somewhat subdued by the atmosphere of the old shop.

"No, no; not three rings, Bob. Rings are so trite," the girl was protesting. "What we want is something unusual—eh, Alan? Something distinctive to link us three together always, like the Three Musketeers, and remind us of our undying..."

She broke off with a stifled gasp as a stooped, wrinkled gnome of a man, a hunchback, scuttled out from the shadowy recesses at the rear of the place. There was something spider-like about his appearance, until he smiled. Large luminous brown eyes beamed upon each of them in turn.

"I overheard," he murmured in a mellow friendly voice that matched his eyes. "You are looking for some little memento?" His eyes drifted keenly to the girl. "Soon is your wedding day—yes?" he hazarded.

"And you and your ... your brother? ... and your fiance wish to buy some antique curio, in (revolting term!) triplicate? As a bond of love and remembrance?"

The trio glanced at one another, jaws dropping.

"Why—yes!" the girl laughed. "You must be psychic!"

"Observation, merely observation and deduction," the old proprietor chuckled pleasantly. "I have very little trade here, worse luck, and much time to meditate! ... Now, what did you have in mind? Three identical snuffboxes, perhaps? 17th Century? Or what about lockets, Renaissance Italian, with your pictures in each? I have some that fold open in three sections. Two of them could be worn as watchfobs, of course," he smiled at the two utterly unlike but congenial young men.

They grinned back at him, wandering curiously among the cluttered displays of crow's-nest tables, hammered brass fire-dogs, old spinning wheels, and a hundred other reminders of generations past. Idly they wandered over to a showcase of antique silverware—ornate gold-and-silver sugar shells, pickle forks with tiny demons on the handle, little salt spoons, and graceful kris-shaped butter knives. The girl strolled away by herself, poking about with quiet fascination. Presently her eyes fell on a small, worn, black velvet case pushed half out of sight on a shelf. She leaned to open it, and called out eagerly:

"Look! Oh, Alan—Bob, look! I found some monkey spoons!" She beckoned to her brother and fiance, then smiled across the shop at the old proprietor—whose sudden look of agitation she failed to notice. "These are monkey spoons, aren't they, Mr. Sproull? I've never seen any with a drinking monkey perched on the knop—it's always something stylized, a faun or a skull. These must be very old."

The two men moved to her side, fondly amused at her excitement. The blond one, Bob, looked at the dark one, Alan, and spread his hands humorously.

"What on earth," he drawled, "are monkey spoons? Alan, if we're going to open that antique shop of ours, with my backing and Marcia's and your experience, you'll just have to brief me on these..."

HE brother and sister started explaining, J- both at once, interrupting each other. They gave up, laughing. Then suddenly Mr. Sproull stepped forward, edging unobtrusively between the three young people and the black velvet box.

"Monkey spoons," he explained diffidently, "were presented by the old Dutch patroons to honored guests and relatives, as late as the 17th Century. They were mementoes of some occasion—a funeral, most often. As you can see from these very fine specimens—." Skillfully, he steered the trio away to another showcase, shutting the black velvet box behind him with a furtive gesture. "These," he pointed out one set of five, "are typical. Note the wide, shallow, fluted bowl of the spoon—very thin silver—bearing a hammered-out picture symbolic


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 in use. Had a fine bathe in the creek this morning, which quite refreshed all of us.

We shall stay here to-day and rest the bullocks, as they will not be in early, and also that they may get something to eat; the plant in the creek they also are very fond of, and as there is abundance, they will have a good feed to-day, and they want it, for the poor brutes have hardly had anything for two or three days to speak of. We have had no meat to eat since Tuesday morning at 6 o'clock till to-day at 1, when we were regaled with a small piece of bacon—hard times—I hope they won't get harder, that's all. We had a jolly good supper, however, of roast mutton and damper to make up for the late short commons; had a good bathe after dinner, and that, reader, is half the battle in these times, although we may not have a change of raiment to put on afterwards. Mr. McKinlay reports the road, from what he saw, as far as he could judge, as better for our next day's journey than it has been for the last few days, so he hopes we shall go ahead better.

The creek we are on is one hundred yards wide, with any number of small creeks flowing into it, draining the flats around. Wind to-day rather hot from south-west. There is another creek not quite so large as the one we are on, that goes away to west and south. There is plenty of limestone seen, and it is heavily timbered; there is


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Need help transcribing Greek


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 nothing green to be seen but the leaves on the trees, and in the creeks the ground is quite black, and looks as if it had been prepared for seed. Two natives came into camp this afternoon and remained with us; they did not appear to be afraid.

14th. We went about fifteen miles on the same creek and camped. About three miles from here we came on the bones of a horse and an old saddle. Middleton and self stopped here and examined all the trees to see if we could find any marks, but nothing was to be seen. There was camels' dung found though, plainly showing that this was the spot where poor Burke killed and jerked his horse Billy. We stopped some time to see if we could find anything buried, but failed to do so; the saddle was all that was left, no stirrup leather or girth—merely the saddle. We each took away a hoof of the horse as a Memento mori. Yes, here we are for certain at a camp of Burke's! I imagine they came down this creek on their way home; and if so, we shall fall in with many more, I dare say.

I wish they had marked the trees on their way, but perhaps they had no means of doing so; but they must have had a knife surely, and that would have been sufficient to mark the bark, even if not very deep.

We got to camp some time after the rest


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 on our stay in Burke's camp; cart not up, and won't be for a long time, so there will be nothing to eat; all of us very hungry till it did come, about 9  I took the bullock driver's watch as well as my own; I thought it would never end; six hours is a long spell; and I also had to keep a sharp eye on a native friend who had come with us a short way to prevent his bolting, as our long-tried companion, Mr. Nilmilly, vanished immediately on our arrival here, and has not been seen since; he got the funks on the march I fancy, as he was getting out of his latitude, and feared we should find no water ahead; ho takes with him tomahawk, pannikin, clothes, and our good wishes for his safe journey to his people, for he has really been very useful indeed to the party, and I dare say we may hear something of him from parties who may be on the look-out for Burke coming from the north.

Ned had to leave one of his best bullocks behind; he was quite baked, and his mate was obliged to be left also to keep him company, as he would not leave him. The mate came into camp about 11, but the other, I fear, will be dead before morning. There is a largo red sand hill close by, from which an extensive view of the country can be obtained—not a very cheering one, it must be owned; but there is a well-defined creek in the distance, well timbered. Close to this camp also


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 we found camel-dung, showing that Burke had been here also, so that he could not have been making much progress.

15th. I did not have much sleep last night, having to keep such a long watch; consequently, feel rather done up this morning. Cut Mr. McKinlay's initials on a tree; party started first thing for the missing bullock; found him in the creek, and brought him into camp; he is better, but not quite right; he will be a great loss, for he is a splendid working beast. This delayed our starting till 12 o'clock, and we got into camp at 1·30, going only five or six miles; our journey is up a branch creek; there seems to be no good waterhole to bathe in at or near this camp, for which I am sorry, as I fear we shall stop here some days to make pack-saddles and packs for the bullocks, for at last the cart is to be abandoned, and quite time too, for this country is not fit for the passage of any wheeled arrangement, at any rate the roads we have travelled; it may be better on the plains, and very likely it is so, but it is so intersected by deep and steep watercourses and creeks, that it is almost impossible for a cart to travel at all, and had we not been fortunate enough to have a first-rate and experienced bullock-driver, we should never have brought it so far. Ned Palmer certainly deserves great credit for the way he has managed his team


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 of funerals: a man on horseback delivering the invitations, with a churchyard in the background. These bear a likeness of St. Michael, weigher of souls on Judgment Day. This one has a picture of a mourner weeping over a cinerary urn "

"Br-r! Cheerful little trinkets, aren't they?" Bob laughed, resting one hand on Alan's shoulder and sliding his other arm about his fiancee's waist. "Mean to say they passed out these things at funerals, like flowers at a party?"

"Not exactly." Mr. Sproull smiled. "They were hung around the rim of the punch bowl at the Dood Feest—'dead feast.' Something like the Irishman's wake. A small silver lozenge, the seal, was always welded at the center of the handle, engraved with the name of the deceased, and the dates of his birth and death. The handles are quite slender, as you see. They curl backwards like the end of a violin to form the knop—on which is mounted a silver faun, or a skull, or "

"Or a monkey?" the girl asked eagerly. "Why 'monkey' spoons, Mr. Sproull?" She drifted over to the black box again and picked up one spoon. "I've always wondered why they're called that."

"That," the old dealer shrugged his humped shoulders, "is an enigma among antique experts. One theory is that the monkey was simply a symbolic invitation to come and be gay at the Dood Feest. 'Eat, drink, and be merry,' you know, 'for tomorrow ' Zuiging der monkey was an old Dutch expression meaning 'to get drunk' "

"Ugh!" Marcia's delicate nose wrinkled in distaste. "I certainly wouldn't want everybody getting soused at my funeral! They'll just have to sit around and cry soberly, or they'll get no monkey spoons from me! Remember that, now, Bob!" She laughed and planted a kiss on her fiance's cheek.

"Hush!" Her brother, the more sensitive of the two men, shuddered visibly. "Marcia, don't be so morbid! People shouldn't joke about "

"Who's morbid?" the girl laughed more gaily, winking at Bob. "Oh, Alan, you're a sissy! Do come and look at these darling monkey spoons over here. Those with the drinking monkey are very rare—aren't they, Mr. Sproull? There are only three of these "

Her face lighted, and she whirled about at a sudden idea.

"Oh! Why don't we choose these for our keepsakes? I could have mine made into a scarf pin, Bob. Yours and Alan's could be watchfobs, or you could have them welded on silver cigarette cases! Some old Dutchman's funeral spoons! Wouldn't that be just too gruesome and clever? And," she added eagerly, "we can call our antique shop The Three Spoons and people will drop in by the droves just to ask us why!  Bob, darling, please buy them!"

Her fiance grinned at her fondly, winked at her discomforted brother, and reached for his checkbook with a light shrug.

"All right, my precious, all right! Anything your foolish little heart desires But, funeral spoons!" He roared with amusement. "What a gift from the groom to the bride! Mr. Sproull, how much are you asking for "

He broke off, caught by the expression on the face of the hunchbacked antique dealer. Mr. Sproull looked frightened. There was no mistaking that quiver about his mouth, or the agitation in his kindly old eyes.

"I I  Wouldn't you prefer something less expensive?" he blurted. "Those particular spoons are almost a collector's item. Besides," he added in an oddly loud tone, "they are not mine to sell, really. They are not mine!"

He emphasized the words queerly, and glanced toward the dark rear of the shop as though he were speaking for the benefit of some skulking eavesdropper whom they could not see.

"The former owner," he lowered his voice again in apology, "was a Mrs. Haversham, an elderly widow. Her heirs have not yet been located. She she died intestate about a month ago, shortly after buying the set of four monkey spoons at an auction. She kept one spoon, and left three of them with me to sell for her at a profit. Merely as her agent," he emphasized sharply, with another odd glance toward a


text: Bunner v. Neil

title: Bunner v. Neil


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 dark corner. "She kept a fourth spoon, not wanting to part with her entire collection. She she was asphixiated in her garage," he added with apparent irrelevance. "Carbon monoxide gas from her car. An accidental death, of course!" he said quickly, again with that nervous glance into the shadows.

HE girl Marcia, her fiance Bob, and her brother Alan looked at one another significantly. The old hunchback was certainly peculiar, to say the least! A borderline mental case, Bob's raised eyebrows suggested. With a glance at his fiancee's disappointed expression, he became brisk and businesslike.

"Well—you have the legal right to sell the spoons, though. And collect your commission," he pointed out shrewdly. "How much?"

"Ah five hundred dollars," Mr. Sproull murmured, then added with a manner of pleading: "That's exorbitant, of course, and I can find you something much more attractive for the price!"

"Exorbitant—you can say that again! For three little spoons?" the blond young man whistled good-humoredly, but uncapped his fountain pen.

"Er ... that's five hundred dollars apiece." Mr. Sproull said hurriedly. "For each spoon Now, I'm sure you wouldn't care to pay so much for a a whim! Let me just show you "

Bob set his jaw stubbornly, giving the old dealer an oblique look.

"Mr. Sproull, don't you want to make this sale? Look. If you're trying to run up the price," he snapped, "just because my fiancee has taken such a fancy to " He broke off, grinned abruptly, and spread his hands in rueful defeat. "All right, you old pirate! Fifteen hundred it is!" He smiled indulgently at the girl beside him, who was shaking her head violently. "If it's something you really want, darling, you shall have it."

Old Mr. Sproull sighed deeply, with a tone of resignation rather than of satisfaction.

"The price," he said heavily, "is five hundred for the set, if you insist on buying it But I must tell you this, although I am sure you young people will laugh at me—or perhaps be even more intrigued by these  these devilish spoons! You see, they " Mr. Sproull gulped. "They are supposed to be cursed."

The two men did laugh, but the girl's face lighted up. She clapped her hands, as pleased as a child with its first jack-o-lantern.

"Oh—a curse! How marvelous! Why didn't you tell us before? Now I simply must have them!"

The old hunchback nodded, and shrugged. "As I predicted," he murmured, then doggedly: "The spoons are mementoes of the funeral of an old Dutch patroon—Schuyler Van Grooten; you'll see his name on the seals—who owned and tenant-farmed about half of the Connecticut Valley in the 1600's. Mrs. Haversham had an old Dutch diary written by one of his ancestors; I was able to translate only a few pages when I called at her home, but It seems there were thirteen spoons originally. Rather a significant unlucky number, as the patroon was secretly murdered by friends and relatives who would inherit his estate. One by one, the story goes, he caused six guilty ones to die—exactly as he himself had died. The remaining owners of the monkey spoons became frightened finally and gave theirs away, thereby escaping his vengeance. But "

"But anybody who owns the spoons inherits the curse? Is that it?" Marcia cried delightedy. "Alan, isn't it exciting? Oh Bob, do give Mr. Sproull a check before somebody comes in and buys our haunted spoons right out from under our noses!"

The antique dealer looked at her, and sighed. He saw the girl's brother bite his lips, frowning. But the blond young man grinned at his fiancee, and wrote out a check for the three monkey spoons. Opening the black velvet box, he presented one of the spoons to Marcia with an exaggerated bow. The second he gave to Alan, holding it over his wrist like a proffered rapier. The third spoon he thrust carelessly into the pocket of his tweed coat.


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 Then, laughing at his horse-play, Marcia offered an arm to each of the two young men, and they marched out together, whistling in harmony, into the sunlit street.

Behind them, old Mr. Sproull—although he was not a very devout Catholic—crossed himself. He ran a finger around under his collar and inhaled noisily, aware all at once of the extreme stuffiness of his little shop. It was unusually close in here today, he thought; almost stifling. He scurried to a window and flung it open, gulping in lungfuls of cool autumn air as if, for some reason, he found it terribly hard to breath.

T WAS almost closing time, about a week later, when the bell over his door tinkled again and two of the attractive young threesome walked into his shop. Mr. Sproull scuttled forward to meet them, beaming in recognition. But his smile faded at sight of the grim expression on the blond man's face, and the stunned, swollen-eyed look of the pretty girl. She had been crying, the old dealer saw—and Bob, her fiance, was tight-lipped and cold with anger.

"Yes?" Mr. Sproull murmured hesitantly. "You were not satisfied with your purchase?" An odd look of hope leaped into his eyes. "You wish to return the spoons, perhaps? Of course, I shall be glad to refund your"

For answer, the blond young man thrust one of the delicate little monkey spoons under his nose, pointing to the tiny silver seal welded at the center of the handle.

"Is this your idea of a joke?" he snapped. The antique dealer blinked, and, putting on an old-fashioned pair of square lensed spectacles, peered at the spoon. The blood ebbed slowly from his face.

"I I don't understand," he stammered. "When I sold them to you, the inscriptions read: Schuyler Van Grooten, Born August 3, 1586, Died June 8, 1631. But now now it reads Alan Fentress, Born Sept. 14, 1924; Died Nov. 3, 1949  Why," he broke off, "that's yesterday!"

A sob burst from the girl, and she buried her face against her fiance's shoulder, weeping wildly. Bob glared at Mr. Sproull.

"Yes!" he said harshly. "And Alan was drowned yesterday—November 3rd, 1949! The death-date engraved on that damned How the devil did you get hold of Alan's spoon?" He towered over the old cripple threateningly. "You sadistic old! You took that seal off, didn't you? And welded the new one on, just to  to stir up some freak publicity and boom trade for your crumby little shop! But, Alan!" he ground out through clenched teeth. "Why did you have to pick on Alan? Because you knew he was moody and susceptible to suggestion? Because you knew he'd brood over your little hoax, not telling us? His painting wasn't going well lately so you thought it would be a cinch to drive him to suicide! Out there in the lake yesterday, he  he just stopped swimming and went under. When I got his clothes from the locker room, I found this damned spoon you changed! Like a death-sentence!"

Mr. Sproull gasped, looking first at the dead youth's angry friend, then at his grieving sister.

"Oh! Oh no!" he protested. "My dear young people, you surely don't accuse me of ? You're upset. Who wouldn't be? It's the curse," he said quietly. "Remember, I did my best to warn you"

"To plant your story, you mean!" the young man snarled. Glaring at him furiously, he lead the girl toward the door. "Come on, darling, I might have known we'd get no satisfaction out of this this cold-blooded old ghoul!  But let me tell you," he threw back furiously at the antique dealer, "when I locate the engraver who changed that inscription, or find out how you learned Alan's birth date  I'll come back here and kill you!"

The door slammed with an agitated jingle of the little bell. Mr. Sproull stood for a moment, wringing his hands miserably. He had liked those three light-hearted young people on sight, and would not for the world have wished harm to befall any of them. But there were forces a crippled old man could not combat! Forces older than any item in his musty little shop. Older than logic. Older than time

"Oh, dear heaven!" the hunchback


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 moaned, "Why didn't I tell them to give those other two spoons away? Melt them down, bury them—anything! If that diary had only told how Van Grooten died, perhaps I could have warned them to avoid.... But there were only hints! The writer never did come out and say.... But that young man is intelligent. Perhaps he could come to some conclusion that I've missed...!"

He turned and ran for the telephone directory, leafing through it hastily to find the names Fentress or Milam, the signature on the young man's check. For an hour he clung to the phone, calling every Fentress and Milam in the book—but there was no "Robert" Milam. Mr. Sproull tried the hotels, then the funeral homes to trace the dead brother, Alan. Finally he hung up, defeated, concluding that they were all from out of town. He sat staring at the telephone then, wringing his wrinkled old hands in the helpless anguish of one who can only wait ... wait ... for disaster.

But the period of waiting was not long.

HREE days later, just at noon, the doorbell tinkled again. Mr. Sproull looked up from a six-branched candelabra he was polishing, to see a disheveled figure swaying a few feet from him. It was Bob Milam, his face drawn and covered with a stubble of beard, his eyes bloodshot and puffy from drinking. In his hand he held an ugly little automatic.

Mr. Sproull caught his breath, and stood very still. Then, despite his own fear, he burst out:

"Oh, my poor young friend! The ... the second spoon? Your ... fiancee?"

The blond man's mouth twisted with pain and bitterness. For reply, he flung another of the monkey spoons at the old dealer's feet. Mr, Sproull stooped to pick it up. He paled, and nodded. The tiny oval seal on the handle was engraved to read:

At the old man's nod, Bob's eyes narrowed. He said not a word, but the ominous click of the safety catch on his gun was eloquent enough. Yet there was more pity than terror in Mr. Sproull's face.

"Ohh!" His murmur of shocked sympathy had a genuine ring. "H-how did she...?"

"My fiancee," the young man grated bitterly, "was terribly grief-stricken at her brother's death—you figured on that, too, didn't you? You insane, twisted...!" His voice broke on a sob of impotent rage. "Alan and Marcia were inseparable; we three were, in fact. Marcia couldn't sleep, so last night she took a big dose of sleeping pills. While..." He gulped, then plunged on miserably, "While she was drugged, a ... a very large beauty pillow on her bed fell over her face, somehow. She ... It wasn't the sleeping pills; she ... smothered to death! The coroner called it an accident," he lashed out. "But I call it murder! You murdered Alan, too! I can't prove it, but I surely as hell can...!"

With a sob he leveled the gun at the old antique dealer's heart, his mouth working with hate and grief. At sight of his tortured young face, Mr. Sproull dabbed at his eyes, oblivious to his own danger.

"My poor, unfortunate young friend!" he murmured pityingly. "You can't believe I would cause such tragedy, for a few paltry dollars? I did not change those seals — but I can not hope to persuade anyone as matter-of-fact as yourself to believe in ... in the supernatural. The diary recounts that ... that, when each guest at Van Grooten's Dood Feest died, their spoons changed, too! Mrs. Haversham's seal altered also—the lawyer found it later among her effects, but assumed it to be the grim jest of some house-servant..."

Bob Milam snorted derisively. But the murderous anger in his eyes ebbed slowly, and the gun in his hand wavered.

"You're insane," he said heavily. "Maybe you don't even realize you changed those seals. Maybe your twisted mind really believes all that silly guff about ... some old Dutchman who..."

His shoulders slumped all at once. He swayed, passing one hand over his bleary


text: Respublica v. Betsey

title: Respublica v. Betsey


text: Lyle v. Foreman

title: Lyle v. Foreman


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 eyes. The gun in his other hand clattered to the floor. Suddenly he snatched the monkey spoon and flung it down the furnace grating.

"Insane," he mumbled. "I I can't shoot a crazy, crippled old man in cold blood! But  Oh, why did you do it?" he groaned, staring at the hunchback. "Why, Mr. Sproull? Why? My best friend, and then my fiancee? I'd gladly have signed over my whole bank account to you, if it was money you "

"Oh, please!" the antique dealer cried out in despair. "You must believe that I had no part in I tried to phone you, to warn you! Tried to figure out the manner of death, so you could avoid  But they all died so differently! Mrs. Haversham, asphyxiated. Your friend, drowned. And your lovely fiancee " The old man's eyes widened suddenly. "Ah! Now I understand! It's true! It all ties together Listen to me!"

Bob Milam had turned unsteadily toward the door, but Mr. Sproull sidled after him like a small persistent crab and seized him by the arm.

"No, no! Wait! You must listen!" he gasped. "The diary mentioned that Schuyler Van Grooten was subject to 'sleeping fits'—a cataleptic. His intimate friends and relatives must have known that, but but they  wait!" he begged. "Your monkey spoon, where is it? You must give it away! At once!" the old dealer insisted excitedly. "To to some impersonal agency. The Scrap-metal Drive—yes, that's it! Get it out of your possession, or you, too, will  So much hate, such hunger for revenge hovers about them! Like a piece of metal that has been magnetized, they can actually draw disaster to anyone who "

But at that moment the blond young man jerked his arm loose and plunged out into the street, wanting only to get away from this crazy old man who had caused him so much grief in the space of a few short days. Mr. Sproull pattered after him, calling excitedly for him to wait. But by the time he reached the curb, Bob Milam had whistled down a passing cab and was climbing into it. The old hunchback hurried to the curb and strained to catch the address. But the young man was only telling the driver, wearily:

"Drive around. Just drive. Anywhere I don't care."

The antique dealer's arms dropped to his sides limply in defeat. He watched the taxi speed out of sight, then turned slowly and walked slowly, thoughtfully, back into his shop.

HE evening paper, left under his door as usual, carried the story. A taxi was ambling along 187th Street, where wreckers were busy razing an old warehouse. Somehow the dynamite charge went off sooner than was intended and a crumbling wall of bricks and mortar fell on the cab as it passed. The cabby managed to dig his way out. But the single passenger, an intoxicated young man identified as one Robert Milam of New Jersey, could not be pulled out of the wreckage for almost an hour. He was dead when frantic workmen did finally reach him—not crushed, but trapped without air in the rear seat of the taxi cab...

And in his pocket the police found a peculiar-looking spoon, inscribed with his name, the date of his birth—and the very date of his death!

Mr. Sproull finished reading, then took off his square-lensed glasses and polished them with a hand that trembled. There was nothing, he mused philosophically, really nothing at all that he could have done to save those three nice young people, who had all three died the same way—fighting for breath; smothered to death by one agency or another. Just exactly as Mrs. Haversham had died, in her exhaust-filled garage.

And just as, centuries ago, an old Dutch patroon, one Schuyler Van Grooten, had died—clawing and screaming and gasping for breath in his coffin, awakened from one of his cataleptic trances to find that his greedy heirs had deliberately buried him alive


text: Weird Tales/Volume 42/Issue 4/The Monkey Spoons


text: Graff v. Smith’s Admors.

title: Graff v. Smith’s Admors.


text: Pringle v. McClenachan

title: Pringle v. McClenachan


text: Appendix

title: Appendix


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And then again corn they planted again.

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 their weapons and grub. We saw nothing of them, and kept no watch.

We shall leave old "Coppin" to take care of himself, there is plenty of good grass and water; he is a plucky beast, and I hope he will do well. All the old clothes, a heavy cavalry sword, and many other things too numerous to mention, will be buried here, with the camel saddle hanging on a tree to mark the spot; so that if any one passes this way they will find one good camp oven, sword, and a pair of buckskin breeches. Distance eight miles.

10th. Oh, was it not cold this morning! ice in our quart pots, and over the tarpaulings. Farewell, old "Coppin," you are a noble little beast; many a long mile you and I have travelled together. Breakfast this morning—crows, bullock hide, and jerked horse; not bad, only there was not enough of it, that was the only fault. Country not so bad for travelling, a few pinches here and there. Only one camel left—"Siva."

11th. A heavy dew last night. Started at 8·15, through a good and well-grassed country, the river wide and picturesque, majestic gum-trees, and creepers of every description. "Goliah," one of our horses, is done; so we shall kill him tonight. It won't do to leave him, as we are now reduced to four pack-horses. We tie him up for an hour, and then he is laid low with a revolver


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44 for pound the new plants were as good as the old ones; that it would not pay to run the wires into the soil each time the ground was planted.

All our experiments were submitted to experts appointed by the Minister of Agriculture, and when at the conclusion they were pronounced satisfactory, my father and I each received the Order of Freedom, the outer insignia of which is a badge and a gold medal, and the significant meaning of which is that the wearers are free to visit all workshops, mines, and places of interest in any part, to work when and where we chose, and to call on anyone to assist in making experiments, removing plant, and, in short, doing anything to assist in furthering useful projects; to travel by underground lines, by canals, by sea or by air ship just when we please and as far as we choose; to make use of any hostel or caravansary as long as we like; in short, to have no expenses charged to our debit, to have all that the planet can afford as free as air.

We cannot have a patent right, cannot sell our invention, cannot give it any monetary value; but when once recognised as of great public utility an inventor, or signal benefactor of humanity, receives this order, which practically places all the resources of a civilisation that has been growing for one hundred thousand years at his disposal. What millionaire could have so much?

The wearer of this badge has no account to render of his work. He might retire from active pursuits for the remainder of his days, and pass the time enjoying himself and travelling at will, for the privilege extends to his wife and family. But this has never been known to happen: the men who have the Freedom are generally active and enterprising, and by their labors the most profitable members of the human family. For my own part, as I am only just over eight years of age, I will spend a year in learning to make electrical machinery. Five hundred days is reckoned a working year. Our actual year is six hundred and eighty-seven days, of twenty-five hours each. Of these each fifth day is a rest day, our Sabbath, but not wholly devoted to public worship. This leaves us five hundred and forty-nine working days. Of these five hundred are claimed for work, the odd days are used for travelling and recreation, if you see fit. Married men will generally take their families for an outing twice a year. The working hours of a day are five, and even these could be reduced, for owing to the great skill of our highly trained population, and to the extensive use of machinery and the unlimited electrical power at our disposal, our productions are so abundant in all directions that every person on the planet, is supplied, and yet we have orders at times to cease producing and manufacturing for a while.

We have no armies, no police, no aristocracy of a nonproductive kind, and no middle men to live on the labors of the producer by the processes of buying, selling and making a profit. Thus it comes to pass that everyone has all needs supplied, and out of the general abundance has many luxuries.

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 bullet, and then as usual the old feast of liver and kidneys.

Camped in the bed of the Burdekin, and shall stop here to jerk the horse; his head will make a great stew, for it is about the largest one I ever saw. This camp was a very pretty one, and we had some nice bathing, which suited us all well, and refreshed us.

12th. In camp to-day, drying seeds of the large red fruit. Caught some fine bream to-day. Heavy dew last night, but as we camped under a large "tope" of trees we did not get much of it; lots of excellent fish caught. We start to-morrow morning, meat being nicely jerked, the weather having been fine for the purpose.

13th. This is about the nicest camp we have had on the Burdekin. I hope we shall go a good long stage to-morrow, if the ground is anything at all like decent.

14th. (Camp xxxiii.) Started early, after a good breakfast composed of—what do you think, reader?—you will never guess, so I may as well tell you: five crows, one shag, one pigeon, some bullock hide, and jerked horse; not a bad mixture, you will say. The country was good, undulating, and well grassed, some table land, and then scrub. Crossed two creeks, with corkscrew palms on the banks; then we follow close under the ranges, well grassed, then over a nice flat beautiful grass,


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 but thinly timbered, and some of it rather swampy. We struck the river again, and camped at a place where it is from 700 to 800 yards broad.

15th. Some fine bream were caught to-day by the men and the governor. Most of us, with the exception of the cook and two left in charge of camp, were out with rod and line fishing for our supper. A little rain with some thunder; plenty of hawks and cormorants. The governor saw a platypus in the river this afternoon, the first during our long journey. Distance fifteen miles.

16th. (Camp xxxv.) Started early this morning; very cold and misty, and after travelling some six miles came on some dray tracks. Did not our spirits rise I Three to one and five to one was offered and taken that we had damper and coffee or tea this evening; but no such luck, for we camped on a small river that flows into the Burdekin. Lots of horse and sheep tracks; in fact, we are camped close to where there has been a large flock. I fancy they must have gone on the other side of the Burdekin, and so have escaped us.

17th. (Camp xxxvi.) Came over some very fine country, adapted both for agricultural and pastoral, the soil very rich, and I believe would grow any thing. Camped on a fine river flowing into the Burdekin, after having crossed two creeks. I dare say we have passed stations, but it will not do for us to go out of our way (course) to look for them


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 in our present plight; the only plan is to go on, and chance coming on one en route. Distance to-day about twenty-two miles. Saw more dray tracks to-day, probably made by the same dray as the others were made by.

The old proverb sayeth that "hope deferred maketh the heart sick;" but I say that bad grub, and little of it, maketh you yearn after something better. We made a sweepstakes of £1 each, seven of us, each taking a day of the week determined by lots, and the holder of the ticket of the day on which we first make the habitation of a white man takes the £7.

18th. Fine cold morning, ice in all the pots. We found a very pretty fruit, a plum of a beautiful colour, and very good eating; the tree was covered, and we stopped under it for twenty minutes, one up in the tree throwing the fruit down, and we below stowing it away in bags, etc.; none of it quite ripe, but still when we got to camp we found it very good when boiled. After dinner we tried some roasted, and they were better. Wylde and I had a tent some fifty yards from the rest, and we were roasting them nearly all night. In the morning what was our surprise to find our teeth, which were quite black over night, as white as snow, and every one was the same—some peculiar acid I suppose.

Here we killed Hodgkinson's pony, and shall


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 remain a day or two to boil him down, as we have buried our jerking ropes some time ago. We must carry it in that way, otherwise it would not keep, for though the nights are very cold, the days are hot. All the country down the Burdekin is much the same, well-grassed, with rocky creeks and water-ways.

19th. Here we shall spell to boil the horse down. Nights still cold, and days warm. All of us cutting up the animal. Then some went away fishing, some roasting plums or mending the remains of their clothes. The quantity of fruit we have eaten I should have thought would have made us ill, but it is quite the reverse. Poole caught some fine fish. Only about twenty-two miles from the "Fanning," says the governor; so perhaps we may have some substantial food to-morrow.

20th. (Camp xxxviii.) Started at 8 over a rocky creek through fine undulating country, with creeks, spiral palms, and oaks, which at eleven miles struck the river high range on the other side. Crossed creeks, two, and camped by some oaks. The timber here is not so fine as above. The river nearly 800 yards wide, with strong current on right side. Cold boiled horse, and a quart of superior Burdekin water for dinner. Fifteen fine bream caught—not a bad supper.

21st. We had frost last night; our blankets were quite white with it. Crossed many sandy creeks with paper-bark trees, gums, and palms;


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 a beautiful and well-grassed valley on our left, highly timbered, plenty of limestone here, and at sixteen miles camped on a little water in a small creek.

22nd. (Camp xl.) Started about 7·30. Crossed the west creek to the one we camped on, and in eight or nine miles struck the Burdekin again. Country pretty, open in places, rough in others. No traces whatever of horses or stock of any kind on this side of the river. Another horse must be killed to-day, and we shall stop here to boil him down. On these days of slaughter, and when in camp, we fare sumptuously every day, as we have as much as we can eat from the head, bones, etc. In fact, all goes into the pot except the hoofs. After we leave the camp we are then on our old rations, twelve pounds per diem for ten men.

23rd. (Camp xli.) Governor and Middleton rode out on the other side of the river, and report lots more fresh cattle tracks. Where are all the settlers, I wonder? We are only stationed ninety miles from Port Denison, so we shall not starve, but may have to ride and walk by turns if we eat any more horses.

24th. Travelled eighteen miles, and camped in the bed of the Burdekin. No "damper" yet, nothing but boiled horse. The country rugged, thickly-wooded with iron-bark. The Burdekin narrows just below our camp, two high


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 hills on the right. Here we are, poor forlorn explorers, left with only two pack-horses and one camel! Yes, reduced to this extremity from twenty-six horses, twelve bullocks, one hundred sheep, and four camels.

27th. Spelled here to boil down old horse. Mr. McKinlay, Middleton, and Wylde went up river to see if they could find a crossing, for we cannot go any further down this side, as it is completely blocked up with boulders and rocks, to say nothing of hills too steep for the beasts to climb up. Instead of finding what they wanted, what do you suppose they saw? Three or four full-grown alligators! Pleasant that, as we shall have to swim the river, and raft the things across it; rather took away our appetites when we heard of it. One of these brutes eighteen or twenty feet long. The governor says he gave them a shot or two.

We have a raft to make to-morrow, and little or no wood to do it with; there is one pretty good tree and some dry stuff. We put the water-bags and "billies" (tin saucepans) inverted underneath to make it as buoyant as possible.

28th. Now comes the tug of war; to be or not to be, that is the question. The raft is loaded with a few things, as much as it can bear, with grass at the bottom to keep the goods from the water, and macintosh cover over all. Palmer, Hodgkinson, Wylde, and self, naked in the water


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164 had never looked more dignified than she did in this interview. She would get over it as she said. She was likely to make a far better marriage in every point of view than one with him could ever be. But George felt restored to self-respect and to honourable ambition when this woman expressed such hopes of him—when she had seen through the outer crust of levity the good true soul within him, and when she urged him for the sake of the parents he had left, and of the happy home he had scarcely thought atainable, to begin life anew on a new plan and in a better spirit.

"Jessie," said he, "you put new life into me. I'll take your advice; I'll write to my father and mother this very night; I'll leave my wages in your father's hands, where I know it will be as safe as in the bank; and I'll go either to the Darling or to Gundabook just as you think best."

"I think you had better go up the Darling. After what I have said to you I think it would be beer for me if you go right away."

"Are you so sure of that? But we part friends, I hope," said he, taking her hand.

"The best of friends," said Jessie. "I'll always wish you well wherever you may be, and I know you will not think the worse of me for

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