Having thoroughly recovered from my accident, I was one morning called into Chief Inspector Searcy's office. Addressing me, he said, "Trooper 'So and So' who is stationed at the Burra under Sgt Bentley is on sick leave, and will not be able to resume duty for a fortnight or so. I want you to go there and relieve him. Understand that it is only temporary, as I am well pleased with you, and I do not want to lose you from my division."

I thanked him for his complimentary remarks, but little did I think that I would never again do it, under the dear old chief (for he had endeared himself to all us young men). Instead of my being only temporarily stationed, as I expected, I remained in it for five years.

The troopers illness proved to be of a longer duration than expected, and he returned to barracks well pleased that he had left the northern division, for the inspector then in charge was one who did not command the respect of his men; his main object appeared to be to catch them napping, and to inflict fines for the most trivial breaches or omissions of duty.

The Burra at this time was an important station with a large district attached to it. Sgt. Bentley, who was in charge, was a mounted man but did no mounted duty; in fact he was too old to do so. Therefore the whole of this duty was done by me. In addition to myself there were two foot constables at Redruth, and also a foot constable at Kooringa.

Bushmen Who Perished.

These are sad cases. In the early seventies the country beyond Baldina was a vast scrub, and used only for pastoral purposes. The dams were few and far between. Some were being constructed during my time at the Burra, and it was at the construction of one of these that a sad incident occurred.

A report was received at the police station one evening that the bullock driver of the camp had that morning, on going to get his team of bullocks— which had been turned out on the previous night — come across the dead body of a man in the scrub. I was instructed to proceed at once, make full enquiries, and return to the Burra, and report the result to a justice of the peace. This camp was between 40 and 50 miles from the Burra, so that I had a good journey before me. I proceeded to the scene with the man who had reported the matter, and arrived there that night.

On the following morning, in company with the bullock driver and the men of the camp we proceeded to where the body was lying, but could not locate it, the scrub all round was very dense. We searched for some considerable time but could not find it. There was no doubt at the body being there for several of the men had seen it. I was riding my horse, when a most peculiar thing happened to me, which I have never been able to solve, or had it explained to my satisfaction. Whatever was the cause, it had a most peculiar and profound effect on me, and has never been erased from my memory. I will explain what this was. All at once I felt a cold tremor pass through my body as one would imagine, receiving on entering a charnel house. I then said, 'Boys. I am sure the body is not far away,' and on looking down I saw at my horse's feet the dead body of the man we were looking for. I must say that I am neither nervous nor superstitious, and was then in the best of health. I have never been able to understand why that peculiar feeling came over me. Perhaps some psychologist might be able to explain what caused it.

The body, which was much decomposed, was lying slightly on its side, divested of all clothing except the trousers, and lying on dry boughs of the surrounding scrub, which evidently the poor fellow had broken down before he laid down to die. No swag or anything that would lead to identification was found. No doubt, as in all similar cases of those poor unfortunates who perish in the bush for want of water, these had been cast aside by him to alleviate his sufferings.

The other case was that of another poor bushman whose body was found 10 miles from the Far Away Hill. His tracks were plainly seen where he had crossed and recrossed the catch drains leading to the dam, which then had a good supply of water. No doubt by the time he got there he had lost his reason, for had he been in his sound senses, all he would have had to do was to follow the drain to its termination, which would have either brought him to the dam or to the end of it. His body was found also divested of most of his clothing, and must have been there for some considerable time, as the skin on it was dried up and parched. Nothing was either found to lead to its identification, so like the other body remains to this day a mystery as to who those poor unfortunates were.

A Dog's Faithfulness.

At the time I was at the Burra there were two boundary riders' huts, one situated at what was then known as the Dust Hole in Warnes's country, and the other in McBride's. They were about three miles apart; but could plainly be seen when halfway between either as the country leading to them was quite flat. These huts were occupied by boundary riders and their wives, who visited each other on occasions.

One afternoon the wife of one had visited the other at the Dust Hole, and when returning to her home, accompanied by her little daughter and her dog, a terrific dust storm, which was prevalent it that time overtook the poor woman. The road leading to her home was little better than a sheep track, of which there were numbers in all directions. She must have evidently got off the right track; and wandered about.

No great anxiety was felt by her husband upon her not returning to her home that night, as he thought that probably she had stayed the night with her friend at The Dust Hole.

On the following day as she had not returned, he went in search of her, and was informed that she had left the hut just previous in the dust storm mentioned. Realizing that his wife must have lost her way, a search party was formed. The weather was most intensely hot; it was in the height of summer.

After four days' search she was found in what was then known as the 10-mile paddock, and sad to relate, with her little girl clasped in her arms, and the dog at her feet, all dead. No doubt tbc poor woman finding that she was lost, and unable to find her way home, had wandered about until she had become exhausted and demented. Had she not been otherwise, and driven the dog home by throwing stones or sticks at him he would have led her back to her home. I have seen some dismal and sorrowful sights in my life, but this was the saddest that my eyes have ever witnessed. How true it is said of this noble animal. 'The dog is man's companion, the rich, man's guardian and the poor mans friend. The only creature faithful to the end.'

Looking for a Horse Thief.

I received instructions to proceed in search of a man for whom warrants had been issued for his arrest, on a charge of stealing two horses. He was a noted and slippery character, and had previous convictions recorded against him. The Burra police had been on the look out for him for some time, when the sergeant received information that he had been seen a few miles from the far away hill, which is almost 80 miles from the Burra, making for the outstations. He was on horseback, and leading a packhorse, more than probable one or both of the stolen horses. No doubt he was intending to get work out back at fencing or dam-sinking, for he was known as a good bush worker.

Before leaving I went and saw one of Mr. McBride's sons, with whom I was acquainted, and obtained from him a rough plan of the various stations and dams en route and beyond the Far Away Hill should I have to go further in pursuit of him. Sergeant Bentley had instructed me to follow him wherever he might be and bring him back irrespective of the time I might be away, as it was most important that he should be arrested.

I left on my journey riding a splendid bay horse, one of the best I have ridden, and that is saving a great deal, for I was most fortunate during my long term in the service of having good horses. He was one of the Stockdales who bred in those days remounts for the Indian market and the various Australian Police Departments. They were bred from Roadster mares by thoroughbred entires. Their powers of endurance were something wonderful, for under fair conditions and treatment you could not knock them up.

Never shall I forget my first night's camp. I had ridden more than 30 miles, and had come to an old deserted shepherd's hut. I intended to camp out-side, but as the moon was about three parts full, and its rays shining in my face, after hobbling my horse, I went inside the hut, and laid on my swag smoking my pipe. I had not been there long before I started scratching and itching all over. I struck a match to see what was the cause of the trouble. I saw, as I thought, myriads of fleas hopping over me. I cleared out of the hut but in double-quick time, and divested myself of all my clothing, taking one piece after another and giving it a good shaking.

I spread out my blanket and lay down on mother earth with the canopy of heaven above me. It was a most beautiful night. I began to soliloquise, and think of what vast changes had taken place in a few years of my life, from roaming on the mighty billows of the ocean. Here I was in the solitude of the night in the Australian bush, the silence of which was most oppressive.

All at once my reverie was abruptly cut short by hearing at a distance most unearthly and weird sounds, the likes of which I had never heard be fore. I clasped my revolver, prepared for any emergency. Gradually the sounds came nearer and nearer, until they were within about 300 yards from me. I noticed objects moving backward and forward, uttering those awful howls. It then struck me this must be the Australian dingo, or wild dog, which I had heard of, but never seen. I discharged in rapid succession four or five shots from my revolver among them, scattered them in all directions, for during the remainder of the night I heard only their weird howlings at a great distance.

A Wretched Night

This was one of the most wretched nights that I ever spent on land or at sea. At daylight, to which I had been anxiously looking forward, I saddled up, and resumed my journey, having eaten some bush biscuits and had a drink from my water bag. About midday I arrived at a dam sinker's camp. They made me welcome and I was provided with a good meal of roast mutton, damper, and billy tea, which I thoroughly enjoyed. I made enquiries from the 'boss' the distance of my next stage, and of the dams on the way, having compared them with the plan I had I found it pretty accurate. I camped and spelled my horse the remainder of the day.

Next morning after breakfast I saddled up and thanked them for their hospitality. My next stage was about 50 miles. Darkness had set in when I heard the barking of dogs and made towards them. I found I had arrived at the station of which I had been apprised, but the name of which I have forgotten. I was most hospitably treated by the manager, and my horse well looked after. I ascertained that the man I wanted had called at the station about 10 days previously, and was making towards what then was known as Lake Hope Station, but it is more than probable the name has been changed since then. After my leaving this station nothing of importance occurred on my journey until one night I arrived at a shepherd's hut.

The Mad Hatter.

Upon my approach to this hut the shepherd met me with his dog at his heels. I wished him 'Good evening,' and told him if he had no objection I would camp there for the night. He led the way to some slip panels, and after taking them down, told me I could turn my horse in there with his. I was about to hobble my horse, but he said there was no need, as it was only a small grazing paddock, and he would be all right there until the morning. He led the way to his hut, and cooked some mutton chops. We had these with tea and damper, which were relished after my long journey. I tried to enter into conversation with him, but found him morose, and not inclined to talk beyond answering me briefly when I spoke to him. His speech led me to think that he was an educated man and had seen better days.

There were two bunks in the hut. He pointed to one and told me I could sleep there. Being tired, I took off my boots, and turned in without taking off my clothes. After having a smoke I pulled the blanket over me, and wished him good night. Before going to sleep I noticed he was sitting near the embers of the fire, with his head between his hands, smoking, and appeared to be in deep thought.

I must nave fallen off to sleep, when I suddenly awoke with a peculiar feeling, as if something was taking place. Looking around, I saw the shepherd sitting on the same box. He had a large butcher's knife in his hand, and was sharpening it on a wet stone, muttering in a low tone. I did not move but watched him closely. I wondered why he was doing that at that hour of the night; it must have been long after midnight. Presently I saw him pass his thumb over the edge of the knife. He took a piece of sheepskin, cut it in two, and muttered, 'This ought to be sharp enough.'

I realized the awful position I was placed in alone, and with a lunatic, who was about to cut my throat. My God! I thought what a narrow escape I had had of being murdered in my sleep. I cautiously, without letting him know I was awake, grasped my revolver in my hand, determined not to be murdered like a poor sheep in the shambles. I cannot find words to express how I felt. My nerves were at high pitch, expecting to see him at any moment come towards me stealthily to cut my throat. To my astonishment and surprise he got up and walked out of the hut.

After what appeared to be a long time of terrible suspense, I kept wondering what he intended to do. I dared not get up to see, for I thought possible he had noticed that I was not asleep and was laying a trap for me. Well I knew that lunatics often act in a most cunning manner. To my great relief, he re-entered the hut; knife in hand, and a low voice, speaking to himself said, 'Well, we'll have mutton for breakfast.' 'Good heavens!' I thought to myself. 'What in the name of fortune is he talking about?'

Then, all at once it dawned upon me that he had gone out and killed a sheep. Shortly he turned in his bunk without taking the slightest notice of me. The relief to my nerves is beyond description but I slept no more that night. We both got up at daybreak. I saddled my horse for an early start, as I had had quite enough of the company of my silent friend the shepherd.

After we had had breakfast I thanked and left him. He gave me some damper and cooked chops to take with me, for he told me I had a long stage before me. He made no reference to his having got up in the night and killing a sheep neither did I, but I found out that the reason he had done this was to give me fresh mutton for breakfast, as he was without any.

Men of this kind were called "hatters," in consequence of living the solitary lives they did. Most of them were well-educated Englishmen, and chose the lives of a recluse in the bush for reasons best known to themselves.

Off the Track.

My next stage was to Lake Hope Station, as it was then known, on the borders of New South Wales. I ascertained from the manager that the man I wanted had been there, but had left three days before my arrival, making back towards the Burra, and was riding a horse slightly lame, but taking a different route to what I had come. At the suggestion of the manager, I spelled a day there, and my horse and I were all the better for it. After getting the directions of my route I left on my home-ward journey, which was a very trying one, and at times camped with fencers and dam sinkers.

Unfortunately I got bushed, and off the track, and was a whole day without any water for myself or horse. The weather was excessively hot, and I felt it keenly. As good luck would have it I came at last to a dividing fence, and rode down it until I came to an opening, which took me on my right road. I tied my horse to the fence. I would not run the risk of hobbling him, for had I done so he would have left me and made for water. I camped the night alongside him, and at daybreak resumed my journey.

Exciting Experience With a Chinese Cook.

After travelling some miles I espied in the distance the welcome sight of a hut, and smoke issuing therefrom. 'Thank goodness!' I said. 'Here at last is water for horse and man.' Words of mine cannot express the great relief I felt, for by now my throat and tongue had become dry and parched. Arriving at the hut I dismounted, and threw the reins over a post nearby, and went to the door of the hut. There I was met by a Chinaman. Seeing inside a bucket filled with water and a pannican I immediately went to it, and drank three pannicans of water before I felt my thirst quenched.

The Chinaman in the meanwhile was looking at me and scowling with his eyes and mouth wide open. I said to him. "Velly thirsty, John; my horse, too.'' I pulled out a two shilling piece from my pocket, threw it on the table, and said, ''You can have that, John, for the trouble of getting more water." I then took hold of the bucket and said to him, "I'm going to give this water to my horse."

With that he jumped and barred my entrance to the door. He held a large butcher's knife over his head in a threatening manner and said, "you takee water, I killee you." For a second I was taken aback, but like a flash of lightning I took my revolver from my pocket and dropped the muzzle within a few inches from his face. "You damned Chow!" I said to him. "You talk killee me I've a d—— good mind to blow your head off. Drop that knife at once." This he did instantaneously, holding his both hands over his head, and said, "No killee; no killee; takee water." I said to him, "Carry the bucket and take it to my horse, and be damned quick about it." He picked it up smartly, and trotted off with it to my horse, saying, "Me wellee quick; no shoot."

I made him give about half of the contents to my horse, which he drank ravenously, and then told him to take the bucket away from him and bring it in the hut. It was most surprising how quickly he obeyed my orders. The ''killee me" had been knocked out of him. I felt that the scoundrel wanted scaring a bit, and deserved all he got.

It appeared that he was engaged as a cook by the McBrides, who were taking their sheep from there to the river frontage. I made him cook me some chops and bacon, keeping him in front of me while I had my revolver in my hand, watching him most intently so that he did not give me a dose of strychnine in my food or tea, for I knew they kept it in large quantities to poison wild dogs.

Before sitting down to my breakfast I made him take the bucket and give the remainder of the water to my horse. While eating my breakfast I made him sit opposite me at the table so that he could have no opportunity of carrying out his expressed designs of 'killee me.'

After doing justice to his cooking I left again on my journey. After travelling some miles I came across Mr. McBride and his men with a large flock of sheep. I told him of my little episode with his Chinaman cook. He laughed, and was pleased that I had given the surly brute a lesson.

Proceeding on my way I arrived at the Burra late one afternoon to find that the man I had been in search of was in the police cell, having been arrested the previous night by Sgt. Bentley at Kooringa. Thus ended my 12 days' search after a criminal, which was a most trying and unique experience for me.

Some time afterwards I saw Mr. McBride, who told me that his Chinaman cook had informed him that he had been stuck up by a bushranger who had robbed him of all his money, after having made him cook his breakfast. We thoroughly enjoyed the joke of my having turned bushranger.

[A sad insight to the prevailing attitudes shown to Chinese. Le Lievre essentially stole the water from the cook, and then bullied him. Never did he identify himself as a policeman. - Ed.]