More than two months elapsed before I could discover
where my sons were. Having, at length, ascertained their locality,
I purchased a horse and performed the journey in four days, resting
one day on the road, at the station of Mr. Jefferies, on the
Campaspe. I started at daylight, and made my fifty miles before
halting, as I generally did about two P.M. I arrived at the
shepherds' hut at five o'clock on a beautiful summer's evening,
having remained two hours at the hotel at Deniliquin to refresh.
Robberies on the road--stickings up as they are called--were rife
at this period. Thefts also were common at the resting-houses. A
gentleman who arrived at this hotel, not long before I was there,
took the saddle off his horse, and placed it under the verandah:
when he returned, after leading his animal to a paddock hard by, he
missed the saddle, which he supposed had been removed by some
person belonging to the house, and threw down his bridle on the
same place. After taking something to drink with the landlord he
said, "You have got my saddle."--"No." "I left it under the
verandah, where I have just placed my bridle." On going out to show
the spot, the bridle also had disappeared: both stolen.
Pages:
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47