unfortunate men caused a panic throughout the settlement: the 73d was
ordered out, in detachments, to scour the country; but the Bushmen knew
too well how to avoid them--they had a world of unpopulated country,
of the finest nature, to retire into. However, a party of the soldiers
came so close on them one day, that they found their meat burning on
the fire, where they had placed it to broil, while the sheepskin was
beside it, out of which the mutton was cut; but they could not catch a
man of them.
“It might well be expected, that if the Bush-rangers could, they would
not let Mr. M’Carthy rest after this attempt upon their lives; and we
so much expected their vengeance, that we made preparation to protect
ourselves immediately. Mr. M’Carthy obtained permission to keep a party
of the 46th regiment in the house, night and day; the house being
situated so lonely. The robbers were not aware of this, or they would
not have ventured to make the attack, which they did in a very short
time after the failure of our expedition against them. I was sitting at
the fire one night, along with the soldiers, talking of one thing or
another, when the window was knocked in by a volley from without, and
by which one of the soldiers was wounded in the arm. Mr. M’Carthy was
from home at the time. Up the men jumped, and seizing their muskets,
fired out instantly. I and a soldier ran down stairs and out at one of
the back doors, when looking over a wall, we perceived a man at the
front of the house: he was alone, and was beckoning to others to come
on. I levelled at him,--fired:--he jumped off the ground, two yards
at least, and then fell; but got up, and ran towards another of his
comrades, crying out, ‘Howe--here, take my watch--the beggars have shot
me.’ These were his last words: he then fell. Several of the soldiers
now ran round, to get in the rear of the Bushmen, who, quite undaunted,
were approaching the house. Several shots were fired both by and at the
soldiers a little way from the gate. I now perceived a man approaching
the dead body of the fellow I shot: I had no other charge for my gun,
and no bayonet, so I returned into the house to load; when casting my
eyes from the window, I saw the figure engaged over the body, taking
his money, as I then thought. The light was out; the soldiers were
gone from the house, engaged with the robbers, so I could not find
either a grain of powder or a cartridge. I made up my mind in a moment
to attack the fellow I saw below, with the but-end of my musket, so
down I ran for that purpose, and was coming behind a ridge of dung or
manure, in order to make sure of my man, when I saw the fellow--it was
Howe--with the head of the dead man in his hand! he gazed a moment at
the body, and then said he, ‘Poor Jack Whitehead, I swore to you, that
if ever you fell near me, I’d not let your head be taken; the b----y
governor won’t know you now, and no beggar shall get a rap for you, my
boy: lie there, brave fellow, and I’ll bury your head for you in our
own green valley--I know you would have done the same for me.’ I was
petrified with astonishment; so Howe got off, and left the mutilated
trunk in a pool of blood: he had cut off the head with his clasp knife.
The body was taken away next day to Hobart Town, and gibbited on
Hunter’s island. The soldiers, I believe, did not hit any of them--the
night was too dark and the Bushmen too wary. If I could have got a
cartridge when Howe was cutting off his comrade’s head, I should have
settled him; and as it turned out, this Howe was the worst villain of
the whole. On the death of Whitehead, he became the head of the gang,
and committed the most terrible depredations every where; there was a
reward of 100 guineas offered for his head; and that was twice the sum
offered for any of the others. There was also a free pardon, with a
passage home to England, ready for any of the crown prisoners who would
take him or any of his men. The hope of getting back to my own country
once more made me turn my attention particularly to this point, and as
Mr. M’Carthy offered to assist me in all my projects, I set about the
means of accomplishing them.
“I was once very near seizing Howe in the very centre of Hobart-Town,
where he was in the disguise of a gentleman. I’ll tell you how it was:
I was in a store one day, buying some powder and shot, when this fellow
came in: the man’s name who kept the store was Stevens. Although Howe
changed colour the moment he entered and saw me, yet I did not observe
that it _was_ he; but when I heard him speak in his peculiarly vulgar
way, I remembered the voice of the fellow who cut off the head of
Whitehead. Strong as Howe was, I thought I was stronger; so without
hesitation I grasped him by the collar, and told him that he was my
prisoner: he struggled hard with me, and held on my throat; and I had
got him fast at the back part of the store, when I was knocked down
by a blow on the back of my head, and became senseless. It was some
minutes before I recovered myself; and when I came to my senses, I
found Stevens holding some strong spirits to my lips, and otherwise
kindly attending me. He told me that a strange man had rushed into
the store, and with a bludgeon knocked me on the head while I was
struggling with Howe; and that when I fell from the blow, Howe jumped
up and both ran away: little I then thought that it was Stevens himself
who struck me and released Howe. This soon was brought to light; for
information was given to the governor that Stevens was a receiver of
Howe’s plunder; so he was hanged on Hunter’s Island, and buried under
the gibbets of three of his correspondents. The fellow confessed to me
in the jail, that it was he who struck me, and said he was only sorry
he had not killed me. This man was a crown prisoner, but was thought
to be an industrious person who was making a fortune by his business:
two youths, his accomplices, were sentenced to death along with him,
but were pardoned at the place of execution, on account of their
tender years. It was this man, or some of his connexions, who used to
supply the Bushmen with information, and also with necessaries.--As
an instance of this--the gang appeared at Port Dalrymple, where they
robbed one Mr. Rose, and in only eleven days after that, when the
soldiers were scouring the neighbourhood in which this robbery was
committed, they appeared at Bagdad--a distance of one hundred miles
from Port Dalrymple, and intercepted a waggon load of valuable property
belonging to a Mr. Stocker, who traded from one settlement to another:
this they never could have accomplished unless they had information
from their colleagues in Hobart Town.
“I now obtained leave to accompany a party of the 46th regiment on a
regular campaign against the Bush-rangers. We carried with us flour,
spirits, and some live stock; the weather being fine, we wanted no
tents--and even if we had we could not have carried them. My arms were
a musket and two pistols; my powder-horn and bullet-bag slung across
my shoulder: I did not look much unlike Robinson Crusoe, with my long
beard; and I was as often called by that name as by my own. I never
passed a pleasanter time than for the three weeks we were out on the
excursion, except when we lost our flour in a ford; and then we were
so reduced that some of our party gnawed away their mocassions, or
kangaroo-skins which they wore on their feet. Although we did not
destroy the gang on this campaign, we were the means of hanging four of
the Bush-rangers. On the third day’s march after we started, we were
close to a place called the _Tea-tree Brush_, and were poking our way
through a thick and wide bed of briers and brushwood, in order to get
over to an open and green space shaded with trees, where we proposed
cooking a quarter of mutton, when we spied a smoke rising from the very
trees we were approaching. We were soon on the clear ground, and the
whole party advanced as quick as possible towards the smoke, determined
to give no quarter to the Bushmen unless they surrendered. We now
could see a hut made of boughs, and a fire before it, when out darted
two men, and in a moment disappeared into a close thicket, and we lost
them. In this hut we found several watches and trinkets, some cloth,
twenty-five bullets, some powder, and three kangaroo dogs, all of
which we took with us, first having dined heartily upon our mutton in
front of the hut--and such a beautiful situation for a bivouac I never
was in. It was a flat piece of green land, covered with wild flowers,
and overlooking the most beautiful country that can be imagined--a
precipice in our front, from which we hurled a stone that rolled over
half a mile of a steep hill down to a river all studded with islands,
and ornamented by the most delightfully displayed foliage on its
banks--plain over plain, and wood over wood, was to be seen for twenty
miles’ distance; and the blue mountains far away gave one an idea of an
earthly paradise: yet no human being claimed it--none ever trod over
this fine country but a few lawless brigands.
“We were now on the scent of the Bushmen, and I proposed a plan which
turned out well; this was, that we should lie in ambush all the
evening in a covered recess near the hut, and watch the return of some
of the gang, whom we had no doubt were out hunting. This was approved
by the Sergeant in command of us, and we immediately retired to the
ambuscade: here we smoked our pipes:--it was so situated, that we could
see all around without being ourselves perceived.
“We had been in this situation about two hours, when we espied four
of the Bushmen; Howe was one of them; and the native girl, whom I saw
playing with his curls before, was with him. Both were armed with
pistols. Her dress was neither native nor European, but a very pretty
sort of costume made up of skins, feathers, and white calico. They
advanced towards the hut, until they came to within about three hundred
yards of it, when the girl, who was before them, ran quickly back,
seized Howe by the arm, and pointed to the hut. What was the reason of
this I cannot tell: perhaps she saw something about it that excited
suspicion--but, be that as it may, the whole party turned round, and
fled for the valley, by an open, clear, and slanting ground which led
into it. Out we ran after them, and were gaining a little upon them
when we came to the bottom of the valley. They here took different
directions; but Howe was our man; so after him we all went, dashing
up the opposite hill from that on which the hut was; for all parties
had forded--the water taking nearly up to the middle. When Howe and
his girl, who followed him closely, gained the summit of the hill, he
turned round, deliberately took aim at one of us with his fusee, and
fired; but without effect. This was returned by three of our party, but
also without effect. Our chase now was over a tolerably open country,
and I dare say that we all ran at nearly full speed for about a
mile--Howe before us, apparently taking it very easy; but he must have
run amazingly well, to have distanced us so much in a mile, and with
such seeming ease to himself. The girl, we could observe, was falling
fast behind, but she still ran, and we could see Howe frequently
motioning her on: at last the poor thing stopped short at once, as if
overcome by fatigue. Howe roared at her, with a voice that sounded over
the plain, and although five hundred yards from us, we heard it like
the blast of a trumpet. What do you think he did, when he found that
she could not move? the dog drew his pistol--fired at her--and the
poor girl fell. I could not resist the feeling of rage which then took
possession of me: I dropped on my knee, took a cool aim, and fired.”
[“Did you kill the rascal?” interrupted O’Callaghan.
“No. I suppose from the exertion of running, my aim was not as it in
general was. However, we were rather far away for any thing like a
certain shot.”]
“We continued the chase, and in about five minutes Howe arrived at
an abrupt ravine, into which he darted; and we might as well have
attempted to seek him in the bottom of the sea, as the place he sunk
into; so we returned to the girl, whom we found was not dead, but
severely wounded in the shoulder and neck. When we lifted her up, she
trembled, and attempted to fall on her knees, to supplicate for mercy,
as she expected to be shot instantly: but we soon relieved her fears,
and led her to a shade, where we made a covering of branches for
her, and otherwise assisted her, by tying up her arm in a sling, and
washing the blood off it. The unhappy girl now offered to point us out
the track of the robbers, and do every thing she could, to forward our
views. We halted for the night, and at daybreak next morning proceeded
on our search, guided by the girl, who was now able to walk.
“After a slow march of three hours, having passed through the ravine
into which Howe went, we arrived at the verge of the river Shannon.
Here were several huts which the girl said the Bushmen occasionally
inhabited--that is, whenever they moved in that part of the country;
nothing, however, was in these huts but beds of leaves and dry grass:
there were strewed about several sheep skins, and marks of recent
fires. The girl informed us that she had been there with Howe four days
before. In a few minutes she ran over to the Sergeant, and pointing
to the opposite bank of the Shannon, exclaimed, ‘There is Geary.’ We
all looked across the river and saw one of the Bushmen with his gun
levelled at us: he fired, and the ball splashed in the water close to
us. It was no use to waste our powder, for the fellow disappeared.
We then set fire to the huts, and guided by the girl proceeded on our
march. It would astonish you to see how she discovered the tracks of
the robbers; she would sometimes go on fast, and at others stop, look
attentively at the grass and leaves under her, and although we could
see no mark of footsteps, she declared she did: she would minutely
examine each leaf and brier and blade of grass on a spot where she was
‘at fault,’ in order to see were they broken or pressed; and in this
way she brought us to a creek of the river near which she said was a
hut, and that very likely some of the gang were there. We had scarcely
arrived on a high rock which overhung the water of the creek when we
heard a shot close to us, and a desperate-looking fellow with a rifle
in his hand instantly darted past us: he evidently had no expectation
of meeting such _friends_ as the soldiers at this place, for when he
saw us he wheeled about and attemped to retreat, but two active fellows
of our party leaped down into a hollow and completely cut him off. We
were on the top of the rock, and within twenty yards of the Bushman.
The fellow stopped an instant: we were just going to seize him, when
he at once made a spring, and down off the rock he leaped into the
water below, first having flung his gun away. The distance he fell was
about a hundred feet. He sunk; but rose in a moment and commenced to
swim to the opposite side. The two of our party who before had stopped
him, now made for the other bank of the creek, and if they had not run
extremely well and leaped a craggy ravine at the upper end of it, the
Bushman would have escaped; but they were in time; and when the fellow
was approaching the bank, they appeared, and pointed their muskets down
at him. I almost pitied the wretch when this took place, he looked so
miserable; but he did not surrender: he swam back to the centre of the
creek and there cried out to us that if we would not fire he would
propose fair terms: he was then below us; muskets were levelled at him
from both sides, and an instant would have sent him to the bottom. The
Sergeant asked what terms he wanted? He replied that he wished to be
taken as an approver, and that he would discover all he knew of the
gang. ‘Come ashore,’ said the Sergeant, ‘trust to the Governor for
your life--I can make no terms with you: but if you refuse to submit,
we’ll blow you into atoms the next instant.’ The fellow paused, and
looked wildly up at both sides of the creek, there death was staring
him in the face--and such a face of horror I never saw. He had nothing
left him but submission; so he cried out, ‘Very well, Sergeant, I’ll
submit; but I hope you’ll mention my proposal to the Governor.’ The
wretch now swam to the opposite bank, and yielded himself to the
custody of the two soldiers there, while we proceeded round to join
them. On our way we had to go a considerable distance, unless we all
leaped the ravine, which was so well done by the two of our party on
the other side; this we had no motive for,--it was dangerous; and
besides that, the female who was along with us could not, if _we_
could. We were passing through very long grass and high weeds, nearly
up to our heads, when the girl cried out to us to stop. She said that
somebody had gone this way bleeding; and showed blood on the weeds,
evidently but lately spilt. She also said, that there was a Bushman’s
hut, about a hundred yards away. We therefore changed our intention
of going to the other side of the creek, and sent a man to assist in
bringing round to us the prisoner, while we went to the expected hut;
at the same time marking the spot where the blood was. The girl pointed
out the place where the hut lay,--we could not then see it; but on
approaching a little further, discovered it in a hollow, beautifully
surrounded with trees and close brushwood. We halted, and presented
our muskets at the opening of the hut, while the Sergeant called out
to know was there any body there? and threatening to fire, if they did
not come out. No answer:--so we advanced--entered it--and there beheld
a dead man--his head nearly severed from his body, and a bloody razor
beside him--the ground and grass bed on which the body lay, soaked with
blood. Without removing the corpse, we waited, until the prisoner and
his escort came up. The Bushman was led to see the body: he showed no
astonishment; but merely said, with an affected pity, ‘Aye, that’s poor
Peter Septon: he often said he’d cut his own throat, but now I see he
has done it completely.’ ‘That’s a lie, you villain,’ said I; ‘no man
ever cut his own throat in that manner: this was done by you.’ The
wretch’s countenance could not change much for the worse; however, his
clammy lips quivered, and he wiped the sweat off his forehead, as he
replied that he knew nothing about the murder. ‘Murder!’ said I; ‘then
you think it _is_ a _murder_?’ ‘Why,’ replied he, ‘when a man cuts his
own throat--isn’t that murder?’ ‘_You_ did it!’ cried out every one
present; and the prisoner’s eyes evidently answered, ‘_I did._’
“It was now proposed to trace the track of the blood, and having left
four of our party at the hut to take care of the prisoner, we followed
the girl, at a short distance, through various places: she of course
was guided by the blood. In about ten minutes, our guide beckoned to
us, and we quickly approached to where she stood; there she pointed
to a man lying in the long grass, and bleeding profusely--it was a
desperate Bushman of the name of Collyer.[19] We raised him up; he
was weak and faint from loss of blood; his hand was shattered by a
shot, and his throat partially cut. The poor wretch was then carried
by the men back to the hut, and having tasted a little spirits grew
something stronger. He sat leaning against a tree; and looking at the
other prisoner with a scowl, he cried out to him, ‘You treacherous
villain! thank God, you are taken!’ Then addressing us, he said, ‘That
rascal, while I was asleep, attempted to cut my throat with a razor,
after he had killed his comrade Septon, who slept beside me; and as I
was trying to escape from him, he fired at me, and shattered my hand.’
The murderer now, like a fiend, roared out ‘D--n your eyes and heart, I
wish I had cut your throat first, and now you would not be here to tell
me of it.’ At this moment, the girl cried out to him, ‘Hillier, you
killed my sister, too.’ ‘Yes, you black devil, and if I had you now in
the Tallow Chandler’s Shop,[20] I’d serve you in the same way.’
“We immediately tied Hillier’s arms well, and having bound up
Collyer’s wounds, and refreshed ourselves, we took the direction of
home. Collyer was able to walk after he rested and took a little
spirits and water. The dead man’s head we made Hillier cut off and
carry--hung round his neck in a haversack.”
[“What was that for?” demanded Sergeant Dobson.
“Because,” replied the old man, “there was 50_l._ reward for every
Bushman’s head; a hundred for Howe’s or Geary’s, and seventy-five for
Collyer’s.”
“That was sufficient reason,” rejoined the Sergeant.
“By Gad! it was a very good thing, to make the rascal carry home his
own work; and I hope he was paid his wages for it,” said O’Callaghan.]
“That he was,” replied old Worral; “both he and Collyer were gibbetted
on Hunter’s Island, beside the whistling bones of Whitehead, and the
two fellows who escaped us at the time we started them out of the hut;
their names were Burne and M’Guire, and I’ll tell you how they were
taken. As soon as they were off through the thicket from our party,
they made their way down to Kangaroo Point--for they were completely
cut off from the gang; and wishing to go to Bass’s Straits, by which
they would be safe, they applied to a settler to let them have a boat,
for which service they offered him a watch. The settler, who had often
lost his cattle and corn by the Bush-rangers, pretended to accept their
proposal, and having requested them to wait at a certain place until
he returned with the boat, went to Hobart’s Town, and returned with a
party of soldiers:--the robbers were surrounded and taken. Burne, a
hardy old fellow, attempted to escape, and had broken his way through
the soldiers, when a shot took him in the leg, and down he dropped.
They were tried for the murder of Mr. Carlisle, and gibbetted.”
“[Well, how did you get on with the prisoners, Collyer and the
murderer?” demanded Jack Andrews.]
“I’ll tell you. We did very well; but met with no more of the
Bush-rangers. I should have mentioned that the girl, when we halted
on the evening we took the two robbers, gave us a history of her
treacherous paramour, Howe; and all she said about him was corroborated
by both Collyer and Hillier, who were present while she told us what
she knew about him. We halted in a very beautiful spot, beside a clear
river, in which we could see the fish frolicking about as if they
wanted us to cook them for dinner; and all sorts of curious birds
were as plenty as sparrows in this country. The place was a green dry
piece of flat, close to a thick wood, and at the bottom of a hill. On
the opposite side of the river, hill after hill arose, covered with
wood; also, at the edge of the river there were a dozen Kangaroos
skipping about, but they took care to keep far enough from us. There
were several giants of trees at different distances; and under one of
those we lighted a fire; having first tied our prisoners together and
fastened them to an immense bough, that was hanging from its parent
trunk, splintered perhaps by a storm.