Caroline (Carrie) Cakebread (nee Rumbelow) was famous over the Australian continent and far beyond it as Petrel, the heroine of the late Mr. Simpson Newland's historic romance Paving the Way.

She was considered to be the daintiest of the Rumbelow girls, the one who could sew a fine seam, recalls many incidents of the book, in which she figures as Petrel Cleeve. The hero, Roland Grantley, was of course, Mr. Newland himself, and he and Petrel were youthful sweethearts. Many of the incidents related in the book regarding the joys and sorrows of Petrel and Roland are true. "But," declared the dear old lady, with a deprecating wave of the hand, when chatting over old times the other day, "there are many things in the book which are mere romance." 

In Paving the Way, the name of the headman of the whaling crew was given as David Cleeve. Actually there was a member of the crew of the first whaling boat named Bob Cleeve, who some-time acted as headman. 

"I remember Jack Jones, who was also headman at one time, well," stated Mrs. Cakebread, "he lost a leg after being smashed up during an encounter with a whale as described in 'Paving the Way.' He died subsequently in Adelaide.

• Petrel Cleeve - Caroline Cakebread

• Roland Grantley - Simpson Newland

• David Cleeve - Malen Rumbelow

Paving the Way, A Romance of the Australian Bush

by Simpson Newland

A romance of the Australian bush. First published in 1893, this is a novel about Australian pioneer life in the 1800s. It follows the life of Roland Grantley, an English youth, who, after being shipwrecked in 1840 near Kingston SE, South Australia and escaping the subsequent massacre, settled at the whaling station at The Bluff. He went on to become a pioneering squatter, developing sheep stations in the Tatiara and the upper Darling River region.

Paving the Way, although a work of fiction, is famous for its sympathetic account of the plight of the Australian aborigines, in particular the Mulla and Wompangee tribes, 'some of the finest tribes of all Australia'.

Simpson Newland brought his own rich life experiences, giving authenticity to the historical background of the book, including colonial attitudes to the conflict between white settlers and the Aboriginal inhabitants. Newland was born in Hanley, Staffordshire, a son of Rev. Ridgway William Newland (died 1864) and his wife Martha Newland, née Keeling (died 1870), who emigrated with their eight children to South Australia aboard the Sir Charles Forbes, arriving in June 1839. 

Available as part of the US Library of Congress Collection:
https://archive.org/details/pavingwayromance00newl_0/page/n11/mode/2up 

Where History Was Made

• The Mail (Adelaide, SA : 1912 - 1954) 

• Sat 4 Dec 1926 

HEROINE OF "PAVING THE WAY" HALE AND HEARTY

Romantic Associations of Encounter Bay 

The glamor of old romance hovers o'er Encounter Bay, that quiet stretch of beach where the mighty rollers of the Southern Ocean give their final thrust as they complete the long journey from Arctic climes. Within the sound of the waves rest many pioneers who helped to cultivate tiny patches of soil, or who engaged in the more exciting occupation at whaling before Adelaide was dreamed of.

Not all those who helped to blaze the trail in those far off days have gone to their long rest. Active still, Mrs. Caroline Cakebread, and Messrs. Robert T. Sweetman, and George Honeyman—to mention but three—can clearly recall incidents of the early days. 

Mrs. Cakebread will be 83 this month. Mr. Sweetman has just completed 80 summers, while Mr. Honeyman was born in the district 64 years ago. He is a son of the well known William ("Billy") Honeyman, one of the first white men to set foot on Encounter Bay in the 1820's. 

Still another former resident for many years is Mr. E. R. Bolger, who is 85, but went to Strathalbyn to reside recently. He achieved a rather unique distinction in that he married three sisters, having tied the nuptial knot for the third time comparatively recently. He married in succession Mesdames Weymouth, Jeliff, and Watson. They were daughters of Mr. Malin Rumbelow, a name famous in the district, and were sisters of Mrs. Cakebread. 

Descendants of the early settlers are scattered far and wide throughout the State, and beyond its borders. So numerous are the Rumbelow family that a portion of Encounter Bay is known as Rumbelow Town. 

Mr. Malin Rumbelow, the founder of the family hailed from Bury St. Edmunds, Suffolk, England, and arrived at Port Adelaide with his wife and children in the Pestongee Bomanjee in 1854, after a four months voyage. The vessel brought out 350 immigrants.

Shortly after arrival one of the Rumbelow girls was married to Mr. Jeliff, and a little later the family, accompanied by the newly wedded pair travelled per bullock dray from Port Adelaide to Encounter Bay, the journey taking a fortnight. 

Of that party, Mrs. Cakebread, who was nine years old at the time, is the only survivor. Where the picturesque town of Victor Harbor now stands was a sandy waste in those days, there being but one house— that occupied by a trooper—on the point of land from which the causeway to Granite Island was begun. It was then known as Policeman's Point. 

Encounter Bay, however, was settled, there being many houses there. Some of these old dwellings, strongly built with a view to withstanding possible attacks by natives, are still used for residential purposes. The quaint old mill, a rounded turret-like structure of two stories, which was worked by wind power, after the manner of the windmills of Holland, is still a prominent landmark, though the last flour was ground there as long ago as 1858. It was built by Porter Hillmore in 1851, and with a favorable wind would grind 20 bushels of wheat a day into flour. 

Mr. Rumbelow senior helped to erect the Port Elliott breakwater. His ambition to become a landed proprietor was early fulfilled. He became the proud possessor of 14 acres of land, and as one after another of his six sons and five daughters were married he gave them an acre of land each as a wedding gift. 

Whaling operations were in full swing when the Rumbelow family arrived, but the industry soon after languished, and it is more than 50 years since a whale was captured there. Portion of the walls of the old shed in which the whales were boiled down is still standing under the lee of the historic Bluff, and a little farther round is all that remains of the old jetty, from which wheat was shipped after whaling had ceased. 

Mr. Rumbelow and his son-in-law, Mr. Jeliff, entered into partnership to engage in fishing, and thus was inaugurated more than 50 years ago an industry which has helped to make Encounter Bay famous, and which has produced some of the finest fishermen in the southern seas. It is chiefly as fishermen that the Rumbelow family is known. In the early days the fish were conveyed to Adelaide in carts, and Mrs. Jeliff hawked it round the metropolitan area. 

Malin Rumbelow, jun., who was a lad of eight when the family came to the State, later joined his father in the business, and later still his sons, Malin, Henry, and Cain, did likewise.  Another son, Godfrey, took charge of the hawking operations, conveying large loads of fish and crayfish to the city.  

Mr. Rumbelow, senior, and his son, Malin, likewise inaugurated the tourist service, inducing the first visitors from the city to spend a vacation at Encounter Bay.  Nowaday Victor Harbor is almost solely dependent on this tourist traffic, which has assumed large proportions, for its existence. 

Malin and Henry Rumbelow, of the third generation, became famous fishermen, the latter especially excelling, and many magnificent catches were made. On one occasion 250 dozen mullet were secured in one haul, and on another occasion 300 dozen were netted. Fierce battles with sharks were frequent, and the two men had several hairbreadth escapes from those brigands of the deep.

Malin Rumbelow, a giant in stature, was brought home one day dead. He had expired suddenly while in charge of a pleasure fishing party.  Nowaday the fourth generation of Rumbelows is carrying on the fishing business. Their children constitute the fifth generation of this remarkable family. 

The most interesting living member of the family is Mrs. Cakebread. Famous over the Australian continent and far beyond it as Petrel, the heroine of the late Mr. Simpson Newland's historic romance, "Paving the Way," she recalls many incidents of the book, in which she figures as Petrel Cleeve. The hero, Roland Grantley, was of course, Mr. Newland himself, and he and Petrel were youthful sweethearts. Many of the incidents related in the book regarding the joys and sorrows of Petrel and Roland are true. "But," declared the dear old lady, with a deprecating wave of the hand, when chatting over old times the other day, "there are many things in the book which are mere romance." 

In Paving the Way, the name of the headman of the whaling crew was given as David Cleeve. Actually there was a member of the crew of the first whaling boat named Bob Cleeve, who some-time acted as headman. 

"I remember Jack Jones, who was also headman at one time, well," stated Mrs. Cakebread, "he lost a leg after being smashed up during an encounter with a whale as described in 'Paving the Way.' He died subsequently in Adelaide.

"Mention of Encounter Bay would, of course, be incomplete without reference to Rev. Ridgeway Newland, father of the late Mr. Simpson Newland, and in a wider sense father of the young settlement, by the members of which he was beloved. He with his family preceded the Rumbelow family to Encounter Bay. 

"We lived in the first house that Mr. Newland built," stated Mrs. Cakebread. 

The Encounter Bay tribe of natives was numerous in those days, and some-times they adopted a truculent attitude towards the whites. "I remember an encounter a cousin of mine had with a native," said Mrs. Cakebread. "She was left home alone, and 'Swell Face Jack,' a huge blackfellow, came along and demanded flour. He was told there was no flour, but noticing a small quantity in the corner of the kitchen strode into the room and took it, despite the threat of my cousin that she would shoot him if he did so. As he was striding away through a field of wheat, carrying the flour, she peppered him with a shot from a shotgun. He dropped the flour and ran. 

On another occasion a native was shot in much the same way, and actually came back and asked for a pin to pick the shot out with!" As a girl Mrs. Cakebread worked in a shop at Port Elliot, which was also established before Victor Harbor. She travelled to and from her employment along the beach, a distance of some miles. She used to do crochet work, and until quite recently, when she had a seizure, was noted for the beautiful lace she fashioned. 

Mr. J. R. Cakebread, her husband, who died 12 years ago, at the age of 77, was a prominent resident of Encounter Bay and Waitpinga, where he had a run. He is best remembered, however, by his long connection with the Roads and Bridges Department, with which he was associated for nearly 40 years. For many years Mr. and Mrs. Cakebread resided at Banbury, Walkerville. 

There is a family of eight boys and two girls—Messrs. Albert, Percival Pullinger, and Stanley James (Victoria), Charles Jeliff and Edgar John (Encounter Bay), Sydney Lawrence (Norwood), Harold Malin (Henley Beach), and John Rymill (Broken Hill), and Mesdames Fanny Martha Bruce (Victor Harbor), and Caroline Lottie Warland (Encounter Bay). 

There are 46 grandchildren and 25 great-grandchildren. Proud of her family, Mrs. Cakebread is spending the evening of her days in Victor Harbor. Her life has been one great benediction. To be in her presence now is a sweet and uplifting experience. 

Victor Harbor is delighted and honored in having Petrel as a resident. Rev. R. W. Newland was a remarkable man in many ways, and a noted Congregationalist. 

Going to Encounter Bay in 1838, he was pastor of the district for 25 years, and never received a stipend. His name is perhaps best remembered by the Tabernacle he built in 1846, a structure about 28 ft. by 19 ft., with a verandah and French windows. A granite column, erected to the memory of Mr. Newland, who was killed through being throw off the first mail coach that travelled from Adelaide to Port Elliot in 1864, at the age of 74, now marks the site of the Tabernacle, and hard by are the graves of a number of the pioneer settlers. 

Hardy Pioneers "Billy" Honeyman, who hailed from Ayrshire, Scotland, and who landed in Sydney when 12 years old, preceded the Newlands, and was one of the first white men to travel overland from Encounter Bay to Adelaide. The native guide whom he engaged was most anxious that "Billy" should walk in front of him, but the white man had his doubts, which were confirmed later when he observed his dusky guide fondling a heavy waddy. Mr. Honeyman made the voyage from England in an old sailing boat, but decided to leave her when one of the instruments with which the boat was being caulked on Granite Island, pierced the shell-like hull. Later he went to Van Dieman's Land, as Tasmania was then called, trapping birds for a doctor. He returned to Encounter Bay with the whale fishers, and of his deeds as harpooner in the first boat many stories are told. 

George Honeyman, his son, who is still actively engaged in farming at Waitpinga, was born at Port Elliot in 1862. He helped to quarry the granite which was used in the erection of prominent buildings in Adelaide, from West Island, which lies south of The Bluff. He received 5/ a day for working the drills. The syndicate which was quarrying the granite went bankrupt. The face of the quarry from which the blue granite was secured is still visible from the mainland. Holes drilled ready for further charges of dynamite may still be seen in the granite. Transportation difficulties were the chief cause of the cessation of operations. 

Mr. Honeyman was married, when he had accumulated £20 and a horse and cart, and went shepherding for Mr. Peter Ferrier, formerly a well known identity in Victor Harbor. Buying a gun for £4 15/, he paid for it in opossum skins, then worth about 4/ a dozen. 

Nowadays they are valued at anything from 40/ to 59/ a dozen. Later he became well known to visitors to Victor Harbor, thousands of whom he conveyed to the beauty spots of the district in his drag. Nowadays his son, Mr. D'Arcy Honeyman, with the more up-to-date motor car, is following in his footsteps. 

Mr. Edward R. Bolger, who is the direct descendant of an Irish lord, carried the mails from Goolwa to Yankalilla in the early days on horseback, and he had to ford the Hindmarsh and Inman rivers, which were no inconsiderable streams.

AUTHOR 80 ON TUESDAY. OLD PIONEERING DAYS.

• The Mail (Adelaide, SA : 1912 - 1954) 

•  Sat 30 Oct 1915 

• By Fred Johns.

On Tuesday next Mr. Simpson Newland will celebrate the 80th anniversary of his birth. A fine type of citizen is our friend, who is still hale and hearty. He comes to his office in the city daily, is as active and vigorous as a man of 40, and is keenly interested in life's stirring affairs. 

Mr. Newland is the father of Dr. H. S. Newland, the Adelaide surgeon, who is at the front; of Dr. Clive Newland, of Mr. Phil Newland, the lacrosse player, and of other sons who are well known in South Australia. One is in South Africa. 

Mr. Simpson Newland sat in the South Australian Parliament for Encounter Bay for six years, was Treasurer in the Downer Ministry in 1885-6, and was Chairman of the Select Committee on the Northern Territory, in which capacity he travelled throughout the MacDonnell Ranges, and laid the foundation for much of his subsequent work in the interests of the Territory. 

He has been foremost in urging the proper utilisation of the waters of the Murray, advocating works for permanent navigation from the heads of the Darling and other rivers to the ocean and adequate provision for irrigation. As President of the South Australian branch of the Royal Geographical Society for 12 years, as President of the Adelaide Zoological Gardens since 1906, and in other ways Mr. Newland is highly esteemed for his public and patriotic service to his country, and for being among those who blazed the track to lands far out back. 

In his historical and romantic novel, "Paving the Way," now a classic, the author, Mr. Simpson Newland, skilfully depicts in his entrancing volume many stirring incidents in early Australian settlement, and of the pioneer squatting days in South Australia, New South Wales, and Queensland. In "Paving the Way" fact is cleverly woven with fiction, and although the narrative partakes largely of romance the incidents are in the main authentic. The characters in the work were mostly drawn from real life. 

A few of the men and women who figure prominently in its pages are still alive, but the author has very properly veiled persons, scenes, and incidents, for, as he explains in his preface, "The time has not yet arried in the life of Australia when the historian or novelist can write with an untrammelled pen." 

The opening scene of the book is laid on Australia's southern coast, near romantic Encounter Bay, a place made historic by the peaceful encounter of those early navigators, Flinders and Baudin. It was at Encounter Bay where in the nourishing days of the whale fisheries Roland and Petrol, the hero and heroine of the story, lived amid the bliss and expectancy of their youthful years. "Paving the Way" reveals much of the author's own personal history, though he adroitly manages to conceal his own character or characters in the book. 

Only a pioneer squatter as Newland was, familiar with bush craft, with the haunts and habits of the native tribes, and with the difficulties and dangers of paving the way in the lonely land of the interior, could have written such a book which sketches with infinite charm, fidelity, and picturesqueness our early squatters' trials and triumphs unknown to the wide world be-yond. 

You read of shipwreck and massacre, of adventure on sea and on land, of visits to the capital cities of Sydney, Melbourne, and Adelaide, of sanguinary conflicts with the blacks and with bushrangers, of police expeditions to capture freebooters, and to protect drovers, their flocks and herds, of transport difficulties in the Riverina, of perilous rides, and of a hundred and one different things which confronted the early pastoralists who risked their lives and their all to conquer territory intended for the settlement and abode of a white race. 

The author was one of a band of early English pilgrims to settle in South Australia. He was born at Hanley, Staffordshire, on November 2, 1835, a year before the State which has long been his home was proclaimed a British province by Captain John Hindmarsh. who served with Nelson in the Nile. 

His father was the Rev. Ridgway William Newland, a Congregational minister of the old Puritan type, who with many others objected to paying tithes to the Church of England. The rev. gentleman preferred a land of greater freedom, and so came to Australia, bringing his family and a party of some 30 immigrants. They landed at Holdfast Bay from the ship Sir Charles Forbes on June 7, 1839, and transhipping to the coasting brig Lord of Hobart proceeded to Encounter Bay. 

It was here young Newland spent the days of his youth. There were no private or public schools at that time, and the future pastoralist, politician, and author was educated mainly by his mother, a lady of culture and scholarly attainments. His father, whose name is revered in the district, combined agricultural and pastoral pursuits with the pastoral oversight of the young settlement, which, included the men of the whaling fleet and the numerous black population. 

Simpson, after attending to cattle and sheep for some years and farming on his own, rented the family property for a period. As a young man, accompanied by his brother-in-law, Mr. Henry Field, he took vessel to Sydney, purchased cattle near Goulburn, and travelled them overland to Adelaide. Later he bought New South Wales sheep, drove them to Went-worth, and they formed the nucleus of flocks for stations on the Darling. This was in the 'fifties. 

More than half a century ago he rode from Encounter Bay through the unbeaten bush land track to his station on the Upper Darling, 700 miles or more. I wonder whether that remarkable saddle journey was performed on the Star, the noble steed which plays such a conspicuous part in "Paving the Way." Darkie's ride across the wide, treacherous Murray month was on the Star, and the man who actually accomplished that startlingly clever feat, as de-scribed in the narrative, was a man with a past, who at one time was employed by a Tatiara squatter now dead and gone. That river ride whick saved the old convict's life, will stand as one of the finest feats by horse and rider in Australian annals. 

Pastoralist and Pioneer. Mr. Newland spent many years in the New South Wales pastoral industry. He was part-owner of the Marra and Warlo Stations on the Darling and of Talreaiye on the Paroo, near the Queensland border. One of the partners was his brother-in-law, Mr. Henry Field, father, by-the-way, of Mrs. Langloh Parker (now Mrs. Percy Stow), author of Australian legendary tales, the Euahlayi tribe, and other works. Mr. Newland had also at partners the brothers Charles and Andrew Chisholm, of a well-known New South Wales family. 

In the late 'eighties the South Australian disposed of most of his pastoral interests in the Riverina, retiring with a sufficiency to spend his remaining years in comfort and peace. His wife, a Sydney lay, daughter of Mr. W. E. Layton, shared with her husband for some years the vicissitudes of the outback life. They now reside at The Terraces, Avenue road, North Adelaide. Among the treasured paintings which adorn the walls of their home are pictures by the English artist W. Follen Bishop, R.B.A., of scenes round which centre so much of the real history upon which Mr. Newland's book was constructed. 

He has the finest canvases in Australia of the bold headland of the Bluff, under whose shadow more than a hundred years ago Flinders and Baudin exchanged greetings, and there is a picture of Petrol Cove, on the western side, named in memory of the old headman's daughter, the heroine of "Paving the Way." Bishop has also depicted the landing place of the pilgrim fathers of '39, a sort of Mayflower band. 

"Blood Tracks of the Bush" is another work by Mr. Newland. This throws a flood of light on pioneering life in the Darling country, Queensland, and the Northern Territory. Such is the popularity of Mr. Newland's works in England that a London publishing house has been pressing him to write another Australian novel. In a chat the other day I said to Mr. Newland that Australians would welcome a book from him on the aboriginal races. He is thoroughly qualified for the task. Like his old father, who befriended and protected the natives 60 or more years ago, Mr. Newland was known among his squatting neighbours for his humane treatment of the blacks. 

It is unwritten history that it was his consideration and solicitous regard for their welfare, that made him a personal force when living in our bushland in preventing disastrous conflicts among the races, and in assisting the authorities to preserve order and subdue native troubles. Though often in extreme peril of his life he was never known to have shot a blackfellow. Twenty years or more of station life must have given him an intimate knowledge of the conditions, customs, tribal rights and legendary lore of the dusky denizens of the interior that possibly very few can have; and Mr. Newiand's literary contribution wonld be a valuable addition to our aboriginal literature standing to the authorship of Dr. Howilt, Professor Bald win Spencer, F. J.'Gillfen, Mrs. liangloh Parker. 

Paving the Way

Mail (Adelaide, SA : 1912 - 1954)

Saturday 28 March 1936

ou -jfMP$-@N New lanb ^~~*£~**i^3^k

SYNOPSIS

Y\7H£N a boy of IS. Boland Granite? *» was the sole turvivor of the Nmassaere of the castaways from the wreck of the sailinr ship Marj oH the

coast 01 me uflorone '- iiw — inc rsptain. Eli Lareb. fcarine an attack by the blacks, told the boy to make for a settlement about 40 miles distant, and to keep on the beach in order to cover up bis tracks. Mter the aULSsacre three of the fleetest of the tribe pnrsoed Boland, bpt - when the leader came within striking distance he was sadden!; shot down fcy Petrel Cleeve. the H-year-oM distiller of the headman of the Bluff fVaaUaf ? Station. Darid Cleeve. ' , the headman's boat was close in shore, and Petrel, noticing the boy's jFp»Hier». aimed at the leader, seriously **im&nt him. Titrrt and Boland crew op together at 4n« station, and after attaining .usfasod^ Graatlef secured a share in 13m attrep, which be drove from - Syfefer. Be settled at Eccoanter Bay -*Wt 10s aunt and sisters, who had .tecenUy come out from Finland. . Graatlcy later made a seevnd trip t* Sydney to bny more sheep, ana darter his absence Darid deeae wa* serloasly injored in a whaling neVldeat. Grantley and bis party also met witb many aiffieattle* on the return Journey. Enfleld. one «f Grmntler*s party, va* speared In the lain, and after a painful three days the spear was removed. At Lake Bonne; the bucks ever' whelmed the white*, and took possession or the cattle. Grantley rode 14* miles to secwre the aid of stockmen from the Hoonrndle Station. The relief party finally reached the scene of the battle just as three successive shots ran* out. 

INSTALMENT X.

They are at it already,' cried the inspector. 'Sgt Jones, keep five men to protect the pack horses, the rest' follow me.' After a few hundred yards they broke out of the bushes, and came in full view of the Oveclanders' camp^ standing in an open grassy flat neai the edge of the lake. On the water in canoes and near the opposite acrub a number of blacks were seen in full Sight, though some occasionally paused to make the usual contemptuous gestures. Grantley dasher forward at a gallop. 'Just in time, friend in need,' cried Enfield joyfully. 'We are all safe and getting sound again, but if you had not turned up so opportunely I. believe the beggars would have speared the horses; we have kept tneru in the bush yard at night and have protected ourselves behind the timber. How are you, inspector? Never was man more welcome.'' 'Allow me to compliment you on your well-chosen position; It would do credit to an old soldier,' replied the officer. 'Perhaps you are a trifle too near the lake, considering that the enemy are as much at home in the water as on land. Turn out, men, we camp here.' After Roland's departure Enfield had lost no time in pushing on to Lake Bonney. and on arrival there had at once taken precautions for the safety of his party by erecting a rough palisading of saplings and boughs round the camp. In this they also kept the horses, except when out for the necessary grazing on the flat. Several times the blacks had attempted to approach, but were warned off by a few shots being fired to intimidate them. On the last day, however shortly before the arrival of the relief party, four canoes full of natives came up the lake, while other blacks were seen in the fringe of the mallee scrub. Those in the canoes paddled up to the shallow water and then got out, and, sinking themselves beloiv the surface, endeavored to get near in this way. Their object appeared to be to approach as close as possible under cover, and then rush forwaron all sides. 'We then began firing,' said Enfield, as he told the tale over the camp fire that night, 'as we momentarily expected a rush, which would probably have resulted in the destruction of us all. Probably some were hit, as there was a great deal of yelling between the bands on the lake and in the scrub. Suddenly we were surprised by seeing them run, those in the grass Tor toe forest, while the others took to their canoes. Then we heard the tramp of your horses and were right glad to see you riding down. Of course we should have knocked over a lot of them before they coud have done us much damage, but fn the end it might have eone hard with us.' Mutual congratulations followed and Grantley was highly complimented on his splendid ride. He was delighted to find the wounded so much improved. 'As for me,' said Enfield, 'I can mount my horse without the slightest difficulty, as Fll. show you tomorrow, for I presume we start in the eany morning.*' 'Ay,' replied tfae inspector, 'it is one at the axioms of war to follow up a retreating foe. I expect the . sooner we catch him the more of your sheep there will be to recover.' Two days' march brought them to the scene of the attack, where the ground was marked with the fresh tracks of sheep. A little farther* on a large flock was seen, some distance off, which gladdened the hearts of the owners. A camp for the night was made, it being well understood that the morrow would bring them face to face with the enemy. 'They are not far from the dray.' said the officer in command, 'as they will hardly have carried all the store* away yet' During the evening sounds were heard, plainly indicating that a 'cor-roboree' was going on, no doubt over the Murray, where they would consider themselves quite safe. This was so obviously a defiance that the inspector expected an attack about daylight and due precautions were taken accordingly. Nothing, however occurred, and preparations were made to bunt up the foe the following morning. As agreed, they first proceeded to the scene of the late skirmish. The dray was there and the two dead bullocks by the pole, with their necks still in the bows. Some of the provisions still remained, and there were indications that a quantity had been removed few hours earlier. It was auickly decided to follow up the trail. Thi« led in the direction of the river, and presently, on the bank of a creek, the party came in full view of s large body of natives advancing towards them, tt was evident that they were quite prepared and courted the encounter. With brandished weapons and deriffve cries, they came resolutely on In all the glory of paint and feathers. 'Now. inspector.' said Danker coolly, 'we are under your orders: you give the word when we are to fire, for I presume we must fieht .' Tight! Whfit else are we here for?' was the reply. 'Let them come well within range and begin when 1 tell you.' ? ? ? A NUMBER of spears were flung, '**? but fell short. Disdaining to seek cover, the savage warriors came fearlessly to the attack, leaping, dancing, and clashing their shields and clubs together in bravado and scorn of men they had learned to despise Their yells and derisive shouts showed that they were confident :n their numbers and bravery and looked for another easy victory.

'Now,' cried the inspector, 'take good aim and fire.' A sharp report rang out. and a number dropped, but the others pressed undauntedly forward. Again a volley was poured in, and more o£ the dark men toppled over. This for a moment checked them, and it was: well it did. as it gave the whites :ime to reload. On they came again, however, hurling their spears, boomerangs, and waddies with inconceivable rapidity, and hitting many of the horses, which now began to give trouble by their restlessness. A steady volley thinned their ranks once more, and they broke and fell back among a few bushes in their rear. Here a brief council was held, a fierce old warrior evidently urging them to advance. He prevailed, and at their head, covering his body with his shield, the old hero led them on. Had he rushed to close quarters, the charge might have been fatal to the, white men. but the Australian blacks rarely close in hand-to-hand combat. Still they pressed closer, and yet closer, the white men now receiving many wounds. The inspector again shouts 'Fire,' and more black forms are stretched on the grass, but the old chief still wildly encourages his followers and advances. A dozen barrels are levelled at him. and at length he sinks to the ground, hurling his last shaft at the foe as he falls. The loss of their leader was decisive, and the savage warriors melted away, the Europeans following them up with scattered . shots, from which a few more of them fell. When the troopers returned to the battle ground the old chief was still alive. As they approached he raised himself on his elbow, and. after looking in vain for a weapon, spat, with all the savage contempt of his race, at the victors, then sank back with an abusive epithet on his lips and died. Had his cblor been white, and had he so fallen at Bannockburn or Hastings, or any other . famous fight for fatherland in the old world, his name would ring in the ears of posterity; but. being a mere Australian savage, who died fighting against our religion and civilisation, we can see nothing heroic in that. Perhaps he saw dimly, as many of his people have clearly seen since, and as the American Indian has had occasion to know, that the success of the white man entailed the ruin of the aboriginal race. So he preferred to die defiant and free rather than to linger on for a few miserable years in degradation and servitude. The manner of his death affected ihe spectators differently. The officei who was nearest and received the full benefit of his expectoration. exclaimed with much disgust, ' ? the filthy old reptile!' 'Game to the last!' ejaculated Mr. Danker. ? ? ? . £J.RANTLEY and Enfield said nothing, but there was something of sorrow and admiration, in their silence. Corporal Jones Can old soldier* turned the body over — 'Three, four, five bullet wounds, all in front, and as many in that fix inches of shield. He got it hot, sir.' 'Served him right,' was the gene ral verdict of the rank and file. 'I believe he is the same old ? who drove that there spear intc 'Blucber,' ' said Bob, the bullockpuncher, as he gave the body a kick What became of the wounded; What can become of them in conflicts of this nature? Some who are not uttsrly disabled may struggle off and ultimately rejoin their tribe, but others, in a worse condition, are they to be left in excruciating torture, a prey to ants, flies, and thirst? That which is mercifully done to the dying brute was done here. . . . 'Are there any prisoners or wounded of the enemy, corporal, to take with us?' demanded the inspector, in calm, official tones. 'None, sir.' 'Then forward!' The party now beat the country for some miles round without finding any natives, and it was obvious they had made off over the river. Many dead sheep were seen, and a considerable quantity of stores was recovered in their abandoned camps. Later on in the day, in a large bend of the Murray, the greater number of the sheep were found, and 50 safe did the whites now feel from further molestation that they divided into twos and threes, so as thoroughly to P3trol the country. In the ^evening, when they assembled at the encampment, it was discovered that one of the shepherds was missing, a man of solitary habits, known as Tom Tibbs. A search was immediately made and his body was found, fearfully mutilated, near where he had been left by a comrade. Whether the deed was perpetrated by a single survivor of the conflict or a small bard of savages bent on revenge ther» was nothing to show It was iust the deed that might be expected from such an enemy, though scarcely so soon after his crushine defeat. ? ? * 117HAT could be done but bury the '* the dead? His grave but added another to the many, where lie the nameless ones who have fallen by the way all over broad Australia. In consequence of this painful incident, a more careful watch was kept that night and for several nights afterwards, but the last had been seen of the foe. 'We will remain with you tomorrow,' said the Inspector, 'and take a final look round, in case the natives havo collected and want another brush. It will give you a chance of finding any stray sheep.' 'Thanks,' replied Enfield. 'Your proposal exactly falls in with our wishes. We have nearly made up our numbers and are far more fortunate than we dared to anticipate, and feel deeply indebted to you and your troop for a great service rendered in the hour of need.' 'Say no more; I should doubtless have had the same duty to perform in any case, though I am none the less pleased to have proved of use to you. I flatter myself that future drovers will be little troubled by the savages.' The next morning a count of the flock was made through 'a break' of boughs, with satisfactory results. 'More than I expected when looking over them last night,' said Grantley. 'I would have accepted a bigger loss when we cut and ran the other day.' 'A score or two of d ? d jumbucks don't matter much.' growled the bullock driver; 'it's poor Biucher and Duke I'm thinking about, the best pair of polers on this side.' 'Never mind, Bob, you won't have much of a load,' said Roland 'That ain't it: it's them bullocks bein' killed like that, and me leavin' them to it. What chance had they, tell me that?' 'Not a ghost of a chance, nor would you if you had stopped to take them out.' 'AH the same it was a cowardly, mean action to unhitch the leaders'

chain and not wait to pull out the pole-pin. I'd have done it, only the d ? d fool, Biucher. wouldn't back.' 'Then it served Biucher right,' said Roland, 'to be left to his fate.' 'How could he,' snarled Bob savagely, 'when a ? blackfellow was jobbing a big spear into him behind?' 'I dare say poor Biucher found it difficult, Robert: but don't trouble about it; you did right well to save the others.' Somewhat mollified. Bob the Puncher departed to his work, muttering ?'I 'I took it out of them ? niggers today, anyhow: every shot I fired I said, this is for Duke and Biucher.' From the above remarks it will be seen that the bullock driver was a profane person; yet he meant nothing by it, nor was he unkind, much less inhuman, at bottom. The animals of his team he certainly would 'wallop,' and sometimes almost flay alive when exasperated by their disobedience or dereliction from duty; but let any one else, even his master, try to strike them, and Bob resented it like a blow at himself. ? ? ? TOURING the day more sheep were XJ found, making up the total to within 500 of the original number. No blacks had been seen, and it was evident they had completely left the locality. Their loss had been very heavy, and utterly discouraged and' demoralised they fled, never more to meetithe white man in open battle. Unaofe to comprehend the power of his powder and ball, they bad experienced their deadly effects in the deaths of their bravest and best warriors. A small band of the strangers bad defeated their whole strength without the loss of a single man.' Surely the Evil One, who smote them with sickness and sent the terrible droughts, had also cursed them with the 'Borees.' who killed men from a greater distance than a spear twice thrown could reach. There was weeping and wailing for many nights m the camps of the tribe, and many were the rites practised and curses invoked to blast the white man. All in vain, powerless as their weapons against the stranger*' gun, fruitless as the cries that went up from the bereft women and. children. Poor people, evil times have come upon you and your race is doomed to quick extinction. Recking nought of this 'for when does the allrabsorbing Briton linger to seriously think of what ultimately becomes of those he dispossesses?) our friends camped ' together for the last night. 'We shall take our kidney-fat back to the Protector,' said Mr. Danker: 'and better news for him still, a tolerably complete pacification of the Rufus tribe. I am sorry it is so complete in one sense, for I wished him to have a hand in it. He will now be able to write the most satisfactory reports to the authorities respecting the conduct of the aborigines under

his charge, as the result or me humane system organised by the Government. But I expect, Mr. Inspector, too much prominence won't be given to the particular part of it to which their quiet condition can be directly attributed.' 'Don't be too sarcastic,' replied the inspector, laughing, 'or we may positively get to dislike you.' 'Under that dire threat I must refrain, since we have to tra\fel some days together yet. Touching that old screw of yours, Grantley, at Moorundie, no doubt quite broken down by the abominable way in which you rode him through that dreadful journey, what will you take for him?' 'If I wanted to part with him, there is no man I should like to have him sooner than you. Danker; but where I go there goes the Star.' 'Thank you, my boy, if you would have sold a horse like that you ought to be kicked. Now I will seek my virtuous couch beneath this bush, and, inspector, when next you want volunteers to enforce your gospel, 'the humane system' 1 mean, you need not apply to me. The subsequent reflections are not conducive to perfect repose. Thank heaven I have neither a Biucher nor a Duke to avenge!' Early the following morning the two parties separated — the police, accompanied by Danker, to return to Adelaide; the overlanders to crawi along with their flocks. a ? ? CAID Mr. Danker to Grantley, as 0 they shook hands, 'If the Stat is missing when you reach Moorundie. don't blame me; the inspector has an eye on him.' 'Depend upon this.' retorted that worthy, 'that Mr. Danker shall have no opportunity of 'lifting' him.' 'Well, if I got two minutes' start I'll be banged if all the horses in the force could catch me.' 'Ah, but when I am with suspicious characters I watch them too closely to allow of two minutes' start.' retorted the officer. The purposes of this story do not require us to follow the movements of either party closely. The members of the relief expedition duly arrived in Adelaide, and were highly complimented for the prompt and efficient assistance they had rendered to men in hazard of their lives, and for saving to the colony valuable stock. On arriving at Moorundie the drovers were interested in reading a full and particular account of their defeat by the blacks and the consequent loss of all their property, also a sensational relation of the wonderful ride by Mr. Grantley. the march of the police to the rescue of the whites at Lake Bonnev, and the subsequent recovery of the sheep and stores. A few lines were then devoted to the repulse of a determined attack made on the party by the bloodthirsty savages, in which some of their lives were unavoidably taken. 'And that's all that will be miblicly known about how we settle Australia,' said Grantley, somewhat bit

terly. 'We piously shut our eyes to the bis slaughters, and cry aloud in horror if a squatter or drover, in defence of his life or property, kills a single nigger.' The affable Protector was most kind and congratulated them on their fortunate escape and the recovery of the sheep. 'I believe,' said he. 'that the recent expedition will put an end to the attacks by that tribe. I have sent emissaries from the friendly natives to tell them that any future disturbance will be punished in a similar manner.' 'I am afraid, sir.' replied Roland, 'that the 'humane system' is. after all. a system of terror.' 'Say, rather, one inspiring a salutary awe of authority, which really is the only way to govern savages To instil our ideas of right and wrong into them, while at the same time we are despoiling them of their country, is. I admit, a somewhat difficult task, that would defy the missionary zeal of an Apostle Paul, even if he coulci be induced to undertake it.' The Star was in perfect condition, and. no doubt, very pleased to meet his master and his old equine friends again. At any rate, the usual horsey signs of recognition were freely displayed by him. A fortnusht later the long journey terminated, after occupying over six months, by the arrival of the party at Encounter Bay. all in good health except Enfield. His wound still caused trouble, as it had not yet properly healed. He was taken in at Talkee to be nursed and made much of. Artd so ended one of the most eventful of the overland expeditions of the early days. ? * * 

CHAFTEE XX.

ROLAND MISSES HIS CHANCE I^NFIELD made rapid progress towards recovery under the careful nursing of the ladies of Talkee House. At first Miss Grantley considered the case so important that her special attention was necessary, but as the patient improved she surren» dered her charge to the care of Miss Maria, greatly to Enfield's satisfaction, as well as. apparently, to that of the young lady herself. 'Take care, young woman,.' said her brother in a bantering ton*, 'or the wounded hero will find his way to your tender heart.' 'What nonsense you talk.' cried the maiden, with a flaming face probablv the effect of the weather. 'I declare Joan shall attend on yo'ir friend if vou say another word.' 'Perhaps it would be safer.' ht replied, with a roguish twinkle in his eye. 'but then we may have two tender hearts in trouble. Still, if you prefer it. let Joan look after him.' Maria did not wait to continue the discussion, but Roland noticed that her attentions to the wants of the Illinnt va-n in 11' 'VrjV w'siYWi. Th'=

presiding genius of the family doubtless approved, he thought, by which he, of course, meant his aunt; otherwise steps would be taken to limit, if not gptirely to put a stop to the fair ohWs assiduous attendance. Miss Grantley bad not alluded to the Cleeves since his return, beyond a passing remark 'that the pretty daughter would probably now go out to service to support herself and her father, and so lead a useful life.' At which observation Roland ground his teeth, but attempted no reply; he had been taught by previous passages of arms that silence was his best course. 'The old cat has determined to separate me from Pet but she never shall, while I love her and she will stick to me. I am young, so is she. we will love on and wait' But though he would not acknowledge it even to himself, he began to realise as he had never done before, the difficulties that stood in the way of Petrel ever becoming his wife. Darkie had acquainted him with all that had occurred to the unfortunate Headman. Amputation of one leg at the thigh was necessary immediately after his arrival in Adelaide; the other leg was saved, but would be crippled for life. For weeks his life was desparied of, and it was only his magnificent constitution that carried him through, though he would be a wreck for the rest of his days. Auntie and Petrel have nursed him with the utmost devotion. The former, when the worst was over, had returned home; but his daughter had refused to leave him for a day, and had suffered greatly in health in consequence of the trying ordeal through which she had passed. They were now expected home daily. ? ? ? ROLAND had been to see auntie the night of his arrival, and from her he had heard much of the Headman's sufferings and the troubles of the family; but when he inquired particularly about her niece, he could plainly see that she, who had never approved of the intimacy, wished now definitely to discourage it She had indeed early feared that the passion springing up between the young people would be productive ol evil to the girl, perhaps, to both, and this conviction had been confirmed when, with a woman's insight she fathomed Miss Grantley's determined opposition. She was greatly depressed about her brother. With tears streaming down her withered cheeks she said he never could be a man again, and must of course give up all idea of taking an active part in the whalefishery. The owners had been very kind; they had paid all the costs of his illness, including those of the journey to Adelaide and back: he was also to be continued in charge of the establishment throughout the year. 'We have saved some money.' added auntie, 'and with my ducks, and fowls, and goats we shall be able to- live well enough. It's not that.'' said she tearfully, 'but think what a

fine figure of a man he was! I shal! never be able to look at him hobbling about without crying. As to Petrel, she will never get over it. She was always so proud of him.' Roland silently pressed her hand and left her He was now only awaiting the return of the Headman and Petrel before starting with Darkie to lake up country and form a station in the Tatiara. The sheep, with the necessary men and supplies, were ready, and. as considerable attention had been attracted to that portion of the colony lately, he was anxious to be early in the locality so as to have first choice. Darkie was very keen to start: he said he could go straieht to a splendidly grassed and watered tract, far better than any in the Encounter Bay district 'Having with so much trouble brought the sheep over from New South Wales for the purpose. I don't want to lose the opportunity, you may be sure.' said Roland, 'and we will be off in a few days. Floss Gifford follows almost directly after us. so that, if any difficulty arises, we can be of mutual assistance.' 'Now the sheep are shorn they can travel long distances,' replied Darkie; 'even by going round the lakes we can be on the ground in a month. A fortnight would do if we could cross at the Murray mouth.' ? ? ? T ATE that night Mr. Cleeve arrived. ?' and of this Grantley had taken good care to be early informed. Big Tom's camp was sufficiently near the road for his quick ears to catch the sound of wheels at a considerable dis, tance.'That 'That one big white fellow come up.' reported the dusky emissary. 'Young lubra sit down long wheelbarrow, look out you. mine see urn.' 'And by Heaven Til look out for her,' said the lover. So that when the vehicle drew up at the old cottage he was there to meet them. None other than he should help her down, with a warm squeeze of the hand, and as it happened, of the slim waist too, with a lingering, loving glance into the sweet young face, which already bore the marks of sorrow. Then he turned to the man to whom he was so deeply indebted: — 'Dear old friend,' he said, 'let me help vou.' 'This is kind of you. Roily, my boy,' and the voice was hearty still, though much of the well-known ring was gone. 'Let me lean on your shoulder and I can get down.' With some difficulty this was done and leaning on his crutch and Grantley's arm. the wreck of one of the finest specimen's of Nature's handiwork hobbled back to his home. Petrel had disappeared, she could not bear to let her father see her weep. Roland almost broke down, too, as he mentally compared the strong, erect and perfect form, a model of the strength and beauty of manhood, that he remembered so well, with the marred creature before him. One

limb was gone, its fellow misshapen and dwindled away; the broad, square shoulders were rounded and shrunk: the great arms had lost flesh and muscle too; and the jovial face was thin and pain-worn. No wonder that the young man turned aside that he might not show the tears that would come. 'Well, auntie. I am glad to be back again, what is left of me,' said Cleeve, with a piteous affectation of gaiety, 'the road is long for a cripple, and the stumps have shaken me.' 'Have seme supper, brother.' said the old' woman, 'and Roland must join tbee.' 'Ay. and the little girl; it will be like old times, and you must tell me. Roily, about your trip. The blacks nearly did for some of you this time.' Presently Petrel came in, and sat down quietly close to her father, and the party grew even almost merry. 'I am better already,' said Mr. Mr Cleeve. 'the sea air does me good as well as the sight of thee. sister, and Roily in his old place. You, little lass, will grow quite hearty again. But he soon tired, and went to bed. j 'Only a few moments, to-nigm, my Pet. whispered her lover, but the minutes grew to an hour before they reluctantly parted. How could ne tear himself from those clinging arms and the witchery of the dark blue eyes that never had looked so full of love before? When they parted, he had promised that for a week he would defer his departure and spend every evening with her. ? ? ? T-EGARDLESS of Darkie's expostu?**?? lations and Miss GranUey's frowns and innuendoes, nearly the whole week was spent in the society of Petrel. Again they renewed their rambles over the* rocks and the Bluff. They rode together, she mounted on the Star, who seemed proud of the light burden he bore, as he flew along the hard, level beach. With streamIng eyes she showed him the spot on which she stood on that memorable, dreadful day .and watched the struggle with the whales that ended in the^ awful accident to 'dear old dad.' It was a week in which his future happiness hung in the balance; when a love, prlceles in its truth and purity, was his to bind to him for ever. He had put from him, for the time, all ignoble thoughts and considerations for the future, or. if he ever remembered the price he might be called upon to pay before he could make Petrel his wife, the thought -vas cast aside, as a thing not to be endured in this season of joy. ] And when the last night came and she lay weeping in his arms while his eyes aflame with the passion that surged through his veins looked into hers, she felt that she could deny nothing to a love that seemed so true and deep: he was her hero without whom life would be shorn of all its! brightness. Why linger over the lovers' parting? Those precious momenls can never be forgotten to ine'

latest day of existence. They will often be recalled by the storm-' tossed man in the silent watches oS the long sleepless nights with a vain remose. and yet thought of so tenderly by him and cherished as the nearest approach to pe feet bliss to which mortal can attain. Ah, however, he may look back upon it, he then stood at his highest loved alike and loving; and, if in later days he could have alwavs thought as much of her and as little of himself as he did then, life would have assumed its brightest hues for both of them. If he could but have caught a glimpse of the warp and woof of destiny the three Weird Sisters were weaving for him even then, he would su.ely have turned again to the Headman's bedside and claimed her as his bride; but be hesitated and then strode away. Fool! you have missed the chance, that comes but once to the most fortunate of men. When they meet again, he- will be stained with crime and his heart hardened, even to her, with pride and selfishness. ? . ? ? CHAPTER XXL GATHERING CLOUDS. Fwhat is now known as the SouthEast District of South Australia, on the bank of a pretty creek, there was, at the period we have now reached, an encampment A small one it was, it is true, consisting of only two tents with a fire burning before each, nearly between them standing a cart, such as drovers use to carry necessary supplies, which was still only partially unloaded, though there was other evidence to show that the settlement was intended to be permanent Two yards for sheep had already been erected, and stronger proof still of a determination to remain was the framework of a hut close by the side of the stream. At this one man was hard at work, while a little way off was a bullock team drives by another laboriously dragging a dray loaded with timber for the same building. It is evening, and from opposite directions two flocks of sheep may be -seen approaching attended by their shepherds and the inevitable dog. A horseman, leaving than, rides ur-to the workman at the but There is no mistaking the horse, with the pure white star shining in the centre of the wide forehad. As the rider comes up, he springs lightly to the ground, escapes the saddle, carefully wipes the heated back, and then leads the horse to the creek and as carefuijy washes it down. Adjusting the hubbies sfter tubbing the sinewy fetlocki with his hand, he takes the bridle off with the words — -'You know whcie the mob is, old boy,' and this the Ster evidently does, for lie moves off in the right direction at once. 'Well, Darkie.' says Grantloy. as he again draws near the builder, 'you are getting on well with our future habitation, and I shall be able to bear a hand myself tomorrow. The sooner it is done the safer we shall be. Lawn's people have been threatened by the black wretches, they tell me. By-the-by, we thought they had located themselves twenty miles away, but it's not more than fifteen. Coming back I called on Floss; he has fixed on a nice situation, and says the country is good: but none like ours, thanks to your early acquired knowledge, when you roamed these glades and woods a

native warrior. * Young Lawn says the blacks showed up one evening and demanded various articles, principally tomahawks, pipes; and tobacco. Thsy evidently know how to smoke. Of course, remembering our compact. 1 did not say so, but probably they owe that accomplishment lo you. At daylight next morning they appeared again in a blustering manne,- and, to judge from -their Mgns and gestures; they were going to play old gooseberry «nd break things, so a few shots were fired; not at all unlikely a great many, as young Lawn is a decided fire-e*ter. Since then some sheep were cut off in thick scrub, and. when- they were recovered, at least a score of them had their legs broken, no doubt to enable the noble savage subsequently to obtain the meat at his leisure. Th-« they did, for the whites were unable to drive the poor brutes, and had to leave them to be brought in by the dray on the following day; and when it, went for them thejr were gone.** ? ? . ?,» ' ?: ,--.?? r)ARKIE'S /ace grew grave. . ?It's a *^ bad beginning ' taw he, ''the only way with these . fellows is- to 'keep them at a distance,' at any nt&tpr a time. That wreck business.- itaught them the value of our tools, and -gave them a taste for tobacco/ Then again they had noTiinVsulty is that collision, with the whites, and natujnlly d£if-ise us as fighters. We ' shall hwe to teach them differently befdr**Wy will feel a proper Respect for,u*.*i y-* Then you expect that we-sfeauibave to fight them yet?' inquired iOrantley- ' ? ??'v'v-: 'I do, but very likely nol Aeire at the station, though that, is posiib'.e enough. . They will be on the «aarcH for the sheep «s they were %i Xoam's. and, . when- -they, are followed .lip. if in good .cover, they Vtil £baw'&gh% and then they are not to be.d*siised, particularly where water is about, and they can sink, themselves among the reeds until a favorable chance offers of doing for you.' 'It's a charming picture you paint for a peaceful man to contemplate: lurking black devil? waiting on land or in the water to spear the unfortunate owner, after breaking the legs ot his sheep and making them of no further possible use to him.' 'You are a good-plucked one,' said Darkie, 'and may as well know the whole truth at once but that you did before I spoke.' -'So I did; how could it be otherwi«« after tht many long talks we have had together, when discussing the question of coming here at all? Now that we have come, however. Jam not going to allow the aboriginal poscettor of the soil, whatever his rights rnav be, to break my sheep's lens with impunity: much less my own. Bythe-by, there is that amiable epicures a taste you say they cherish for the white man's internal fat: kidney fat. wasn't it? For anointing purposes only, let us hope. Do they think it imnarls a'peculiar gloss to their blsck hides, much admired by the aboriginal gentle sex?' 'I don't know,' answered Darkia. 'perhaps it is all a myth. Certain!? such a craving can only be recently acquired, as their acquaintance with our race is as yet only of brief duration.' (To be continued next week) .

The cliffs aX the North-West bend of ll»e River Murray, around which some of th* action in IBe story 1001 place.