In the first quarter of the second year after the proclamation of the colony, I landed in South Australia. Our good ship [Canton] first cast anchor off the spot but to the south of where now stands Semaphore Jetty. In addition to my wife and two children, and a brother and sister, I had three young men under my charge and one maid servant.

The captain, with consideration for passengers with a large party on board, invited me and three male passengers to accompany him in the first and only boat going to land that day. Although the tide was high, our boat grounded half a mile from the beach.

The captain then ordered out of the boat five of the sailors, on one of whom we had each to mount pick-a-back. The captain being heavy, selected the stoutest jack tar. I had a very lively young fellow under me, who made good headway. I looked back when we had made about half-way, and perceived that the captain's carrier was allowing him to sink nearer and nearer the water, and that he would soon be dropped (as I was afterwards told, intentionally).

With my usual impetuosity I ordered my bearer to drop me with my feet downwards and return to the skipper's assistance, forgetting I had got on a tight pair of wellington boots. I, nevertheless, felt pretty comfortable whilst wading the remainder of the distance to the shore.

Then came the climb over the sand hummocks, not solidified as now by many feet; then the drag of three quarters of a mile through sandy scrub and flaggy plants, and occasionally bog.

At length we made the side of the creek, and discovered on the opposite bank a bush shanty and a few wurleys, these erections constituting the Old Port town. On crossing what was then, with great propriety, called Port Misery, to our great joy we found we could get good beer at the moderate price of 2s. 6d. a bottle, of which we partook freely.

A gig, then the only one in the colony, was waiting for the captain, but we, to our grief, had to tramp the seven miles, and now something like the skinning of my feet commenced. The country was most charming, we passing over a plain which had been swept clean by a bush fire a few weeks before we landed. The fire had been followed by copious rains, and the surface over which we travelled had the appearance of carrying a fine, early wheat crop, prospects so cheering that my discomforts were nearly lost sight of.

On approaching the North Adelaide hill my attention was drawn to a crowd of say 200 people surrounding a large gum-tree. I could not at first observe what had attracted them, until a sudden stampede took place, many rushing away in all directions with yells and cries, and then I saw an unfortunate man suspended by the neck from an outstretching limb, with, as it appeared, one or two men hanging on to his legs.

By one of the stampeders I was coolly told that it was a regular and legal affair, that the hangman had only bungled his business and bolted, followed by the execrations of the spectators, and that the Sheriff, in mercy, was finishing the poor wretch. With this explanation I was satisfied I had adopted a country where civilisation was known and practised.

I crossed the River Torrens, at that time a tiny stream, neither so wide nor as deep now, and the bed generally green with grass and reeds, under which surface I believe the main part of the stream was then percolating out of sight through gravel.

In London I had seen a plan with a fine sheet of water, with vessels at anchor, under Government House. I was limping sorely, and soon got my boots off by unseaming one side of each, in one of the primitive refreshment booths in a small canvas town on the ground now occupied by the present Railway Station.

We heard before we left the Old Port that the ship was ordered to return and anchor in Holdfast Bay, and then knew that we had no chance of getting on board that night. I sought out and found an old friend who had landed some eight months earlier, and he kindly chartered for me for the next day a bullock dray to take me to the beach at Holdfast Bay, to bring up my living charge and baggage.

By next midday I found all safe landed at the mouth of the Bay creek, on the corner sand-hill near a native well of fresh water, from which we took copious draughts and were thankful. I was told that my wife, sister, and children had been carried as I had been from the boats to shore by the sailors. The fact was we were a very jolly party, and the roughness of things we took to be amusing. A pleasant ride across the plains, in defiance of many heavy jolts over wombat holes and logs, and we at length reached what is now known as South-terrace, and found our friends' encampment near the spot where now stands St. John's Church.

Our tents pitched, we were invited to a sumptuous repast consisting of kangaroo stew and parrot pie, relieved with ship pork and biscuits, and colonial damper. The freshness of the atmosphere, the brilliancy of the sky, and the extreme verdure of the plains and hills satisfied us, and with grateful hearts we passed our first night in our adopted country under canvas.

In the early days of the colony, grumblers were ashamed to open their mouths. On rambling about one curious feature for a new country was discovered around the tents and shanties, and in spots a few miles away in the bush, viz., congregations of empty bottles here and there, and plentiful, too, in their emptiness. Perhaps these might be fairly taken to account for the general joviality of the people; nevertheless, I am persuaded that much of the life and animation so universally exhibited, by the ladies as well as the stouter sex, was genuine, for we all felt we had come to a fine country as pioneers to found a new kingdom, but then, like the young donkey frisking about, all our trials had yet to come.

I should mention that on one of the first acres we found to be taken possession of and occupied, two imposing brick pillars had been erected to form a gateway, through which to approach a wooden shanty of two or three rooms, and on one of the pillars was a board giving notice that "any person found trespassing on these grounds (i.e., a bare acre) will be prosecuted with the utmost rigor of the law." This, also, was comforting, as a forward step in civilisation.

As in this journal one object of the writer is to relate occurrences as much in their order as possible, and as an account has been given of the shocking execution which so early greeted his eyes and horrified him, it is necessary to relate the crime for which the convict was condemned and hung, and also to describe other outrages which had been previously committed.

Strangers, and many even of the late arrivals, will be ignorant as to the characters who had so early, and in such comparative numbers, made their way to the new colony (that is, escaped convicts from Van Dieman's Land and Sydney).

Shortly after our arrival our gracious Queen's birthday was commemorated by a ball at Government House, to which we had the honor to be invited. We were still under canvas; the ladies were in distress; trunks had to be unpacked, &c., &c.; and, worse than all, no conveyances for hire had yet been introduced, and the line we had to travel to Government House was diagonally across the then forest-city, with no clearings or even direct tracks. The latter difficulty was overcome by a kind neighbor offering us a ride in a waggon drawn by three horses in chain-harness, and driven by a real waggoner, with his long whalebone whip, all just imported from Tasmania.

Well, the ladies soon got over the difficulties of such a conveyance, that is to say, such as the want of seats, steps to get In and out with, and such usual carriage belongings as were absolutely indispensable, by suggesting that the side rails should be clothed with railway-rugs, strapped on a carpet on the bottom, and a high chair for steps. The ladies being young, lively, and energetic, the ascent was delightfully accomplished with our assistance, and without accident or ruffle.

Our pace was necessarily slow, as our driver walked by the side of his team, driving with, a "gee-up," and stopping with a loud "whoa" at the Government porch. We arrived late, and, unfortunately, had left the chair behind. Servants were not numerous, and those who were about were otherwise engaged, and the ladies had to alight by springing into the arms of the gentlemen from the back of the unusually high waggon.

In the party were three officials high in the service. Two of the company had been in the home yeomanry cavalry—one as a commissioned and one as a non-commissioned officer. These appearing in uniform added to the imposing appearance of our party, which consisted of six ladies and six gentlemen.

On entering the ball-room our eyes were dazzled by the brilliancy of the scene, to which we formed a striking addition, thanks to our military friends. Such a display of fine and elegantly-dressed ladies could hardly have been expected to have passed from such confined and temporary dwellings as all those in existence were at that time. The entertainment was in all respects a success, and kind and hospitable Governor Hindmarsh and his charming family everything that could be desired. The pleasure experienced by the guests was equal to any they had ever met with under any other and more advanced state of society.

We departed early, and did not see any other vehicle, although there must have been some half-dozen or so coming and going at other times during the evening. We were afterwards kept in countenance by hearing that one lady, a special beauty and highly connected, had been conveyed from her home to the vicinity of the residence in a bullock dray. The inconveniences and trifling deprivations now experienced, and of which we hear such grave complaints, rather amuse the old settlers, and remind them of such scenes as the above.

Before chimneys were built, and cooking was performed out of doors, it was not an unusual thing to see in showery or even in sunny weather a lady watching the kettle, camp-oven, &c, under an umbrella at a log fire. The relation of circumstances which occurred before I landed will generally be given in the words of witnesses.

The first account I thus give is from an individual who was actively engaged by the Government, originally as a special constable, and afterwards in a much higher post. He arrived as an articled servant to the South Australian Company, and landed in August, 1836. The free settlers as well as Government officials were glad to employ banished men (not asking if they were expirees or runaways who had been well trained to work as convicts, and were skilful splitters, sawyers, fencers, and builders of huts. Great wages were paid to them.

The Port being then free, and no taxes or import duties inflicted, drinkables abundant, and no licences required for the sale of them, the usual consequences of such a state of things followed amongst such a class of men as ex-convicts, free from restraint, with plenty of money at their command, who had only to take an occasional rest to spend their earnings in debauchery, and then resume work for a fresh supply.

Captain Hindmarsh, our first Governor, had a small party of marines left him from Her Majesty's ship Buffalo, some 10 or 12, with a corporal. These men, with such chances of indulgence, were not celebrated for sobriety, as some incidents I have to relate will prove. Up to this time no police force had been organised. A serious riot having occurred, got up by the drunken old lags (as they were called, from having carried irons on their legs), the Governor ordered out the marines, with loaded muskets; the Riot Act was read by the Attorney General, but this producing no effect, the marines were ordered to load and fire with ball cartridges. Some of the rioters were wounded, and a few taken into custody and sentenced to short terms of imprisonment in the colony.

Shortly after this the Government Store was broken into, and fire arms and ammunition stolen. The Governor had appointed S. Smart, Esq., a legal gentleman from Tasmania, as Sheriff. This gentleman entered on his duties with commendable zeal, and as he knew most of the Vandemonians, as they were called, was also well known by them, and spotted for death.

His hut was attacked after dark by three men; he was alone with Mrs. S. It was no difficulty to make an entry into tents or even the temporary huts then in use without giving previous alarm, and as such dwellings were very small, a pistol presented from the doorway would be but a yard or two — or, at most, three or four yards— from the person aimed at.

One of the ruffians instantly fired, the ball missing Mr. Smart' s head, but the powder singeing his ear. As he did not fall, the intruders immediately bolted, as he had firearms at hand, which, however, they did not give him time to use. The alarm was given, but the men escaped; and it may well be supposed what fear was experienced by the few surrounding inhabitants that night.

The next day no time was lost. The Governor called for volunteers to come forward to be sworn in as special constables. A few loyally responded to the call, and very shortly two of the men who had made the attack on the Sheriff were taken and committed, the one who fired the ball (viz. Magee) was afterwards found guilty and sentenced to death, and hung as already described; the other was admitted as Queen's evidence, and, with a reward, vanished.

The third man, Morgan, escaped, and was afterwards reported to be lurking in the neighborhood of the whaling stations at Encounter Bay. The Governor on receiving this information requested three of the special constables to go and execute a warrant, and bring in Morgan dead or alive, and they undertook the task. Their names were Henry Alford (afterwards Inspector of Police and one of the smartest and pluckiest men that ever joined the force), Anderson, and Hately. A description of their extra-ordinary journey in pursuit of Morgan is given in Mr. Alford's words, but must be reserved for another chapter.

But before this paper is closed it is necessary to relate that about this time two suspicious strangers suddenly appeared, no one knowing from whence they came or by what means they had made the settlement. A few days after their arrival a report was brought in that a strange horse was lying in the forest to the south of the settlement, dead, with its throat cut. A great cry being raised, the two strangers vanished. They were subsequently ascertained to be runaway lifers from Sydney, named Foley and Stone. More of these men in a future number, including an extraordinary encounter the writer had subsequently with Stone, and, as he believes, Stone's last interview with a white fellow-creature.

In the many instances in which I was afterwards connected with men who had been sentenced to imprisonment for life or shorter terms having been an employer of many of these outcasts — I feel bound to say that on the whole I have never been better served, and I do not remember an instance of breach of trust, or where kind and considerate treatment on my part did not, meet with a grateful return. My life has been frequently at the mercy of men who had suffered the just retribution of broken laws. In one remarkable; case I was served most faithfully by a lifer who shot his previous master and escaped from Sydney.

(To be continued.)