Robbery under Arms / A Story of Life and Adventure in the Bush and in the Australian Goldfields

ic-house, a store, a pound, and a blacksmith's shop. However, a public-house is not such a bad place-at any rate it's better than nothing when a fellow's young and red-hot fo

and a free range. There's some birds, and animals too, that either pine in a cage or kill themselves, and I suppose it's the same way with some men. They can't stand the cage of what's called honest labour, which means working for some on

e of it that chaps like us are likely to get. And people may talk as much as they like; boys, and men too, will like it, and take to it, and hanker after it, as long as the world lasts. There's danger in it, and misery, and death often enough comes of it, but what of that? If a man wants a swim on the seashore he won't stand all day on the beach because he may be drowned or snapped up by a shark, or knocked against a rock, or tired out and drawn under by the surf. No, if he's a man he'll jump in and enjoy himself all the more because the waves are high and the

er enough, when, just as we were crossing one of the roads that came through the run-over the 'Pretty Plain', as they calle

The shearers mostly knew her by sight, because she had taken a fancy to come dow

every man liked and respected Mr. Falkland, so we all put ourselves on our best behaviour, and the two or three flash fell

pped to their jerseys and working like steam-engines, looking curiously and pitifully at the tired men and the patient sheep, with her

ght in, and though it didn't cut the sinews, as luck would have it, the point stuck out at the other side; out spurted the blood, and Jim was just going to let out when he looked up and saw Miss Falkland looking at him, with her beautiful eyes so full of pity and surpr

a!' she cried out. 'Hadn't something better be b

schoolboy going to say his lesson. 'That is, i

Here, boy; tar wanted for No. 36. That'll

ow whether Mr. M'Intyre will quite approve of that last sheep of yours.

ss Falkland had whipped out her soft fin

ng blood, and then neatly and skilfully bound up the wrist firmly with the strips of cambric. This she furt

she was doing it. Neither of us had ever seen such befo

hear any more to-day; it might bring on inflamma

all never forget your goodness, Miss Falkland, if I live till I'm a hundred.' Then Jim bent his head a bit-I don't suppose he ever made a bow

' he said; 'I must chance it,' and he did. Next day it was worse and very painful, but Jim stuck to the shears, though he used to turn wh

with a bit of a broken axletree; but the strips of white handkerchief-one had C. F. in the

Jim's hand was, and the day after that, but she never

ed it, that led over the Pretty Plain. A good way behind we saw Mr. Falkland, but he

l those sort of youngsters, he was fond of getting among the men

but though she was as quiet as a lamb at first she had begun to show a nasty temper lately, and to get very touchy. 'I don't care about chestnuts myself,' says Master Billy, smoking a short pipe as if he was thirty; 'they've a deal of temper, and s

and a good many men and women, are all pretty right as long as they're well kept under and starved a bit at odd ti

r, it seems; there never was a Troubadour yet that wouldn't buck and bolt, and smash himself and his rider, if he got a fright, or his temper was roused.

daughter started for their ride; but had gone pretty fairly-Miss Falkland, like my sister Aileen, cou

and sat her splendidly and got her head up. When she saw she could do nothing that way

but get quite callous when they are over-eager and excited. Anyhow, it was l

ss the plain at its narrowest part; it wasn't more than half-a-mile wide there, in fact, it was more like a f

don't believe anything could have held her under a hide rope with a turn round a stockyard

est to stop the brute. Her hat was off and her hair had fallen down and hung down her back-plenty of it there

off. We gathered up our reins and went after her, not in a hurry, but just collecti

e let out to head the mare off from a creek tha

g off her course, and she's heading straight for the Trooper's Downfall, where the policema

re all doing our best, and were just in the line to back

ht drop-and rocks at the bottom. She's making a

er, but he doesn't calculate to do it for a quarter of

. 'My God! it's an awful thing, isn't it? and a fine

ol I was as nearly mad as I could be to think of such a girl bein