Australian Bushrangers

Northland Age, Volume XVIII, Issue 40, 22 February 1949, Page 4

Australian Bushrangers

(By “PLUGGER” JENKS)

CHAPTER FOUR In April of 1865 he crossed the Murray River, and made a series ol' lightning raids. He stole a racehorse from McKinnon’s Station on Little River, and then on the King River he fired the homestead, granary, barns, and all the buildings of a man named Evans. This unfortunate individual had had the audacity to fight back against the great Morgan, and in doing so had wounded the bandit in the hand, and, 1 as a result Morgan had lost a finger, j On the Wangaratta and Benalla road, he held up and robbed in a very short space of time innumerable wayl farers, and some coaches. His fame , was spreading rapidly, and all went ir. fear and trepidation. ' It was bad enough to lose one’s all, | but when in addition it was never known when the sadistic Morgan would take one’s life also, then it was time to become terrified, and, as a precaution, travel as little as possible. He raided another station, the name of which had better be left out of bis story, for it was here that he committed the crime of rape, and to such an extent that the demands he made on this woman caused her to take her own life. The countryside was now really i'P I in arms. Terror and wrath ran hand j in hand. ! Death to this Morgan. Then came his raid on the Peeckel- j ba Station. He had had this in view for some i time, and had been rolling the thought round and round in his mind for some ■ time past, as would a gourmet roll 1 some delicious trifle of his dream. But Peechelba was to be his Waterloo. <• Peechelba was owned by Messrs. McPherson and Rutherford. I Towards the end of April, 1865, j McPherson heard someone rapping on the front door. He opened the door, and stepped out onto the verandan. i The muzzle of a revolver was thrust ‘ i into his stomach, therefore the words f of welcome that he was about to give j never passed his lips. He backed into the house when told to do so by the stranger who handled the lethal weaj pon so carelessly. Morgan grinned in a wolfish manner, and ordered the household to line up against a wall. This was done by all but one. A ■ housemaid named Macdonald refused to do as she was bid, and as Morgan ! gave her a push, she turned on him and slapped his face with all the force that her small body could put ] into the blow. Morgan screamed with rage, ar.d ! .iubbed the pistol muzzle with cruel j force into the girl’s ribs. “I’m Dan’l Morgan, you little birch, - an’ I’ll have none of your sauce.” The girl was gasping for breath, and was unable to answer, but her eyes spoke all the volumes that her - tongue would have said. He demanded food, and this was brought for him, and he ate with his guns ready to hand, whilst the houseI hold lined the wall in front of him. Then he demanded music whilst he | ! ate, and Miss Rutherford offered to j play for him, little realising that he I | would never be completely sated of j this form of entertainment. On md j on she played, hour after hour, with " j the household still in the same posiI [ tion of bolstering up the wall, whilst I j the bushranger lounged at ease and | j listened. I | Finally the poor girl could play no | more, and she drooped over the keyP board, much to the horror of there present. They were afraid of what \ this monster might take it into his head to do. ) But he made no objection when she / collapsed, and even went so far as to direct two of the servants to assist her to a lounge, where she collapsed ! into sleep. | Through the night the bushranger just sat there drinking, but not, as the prisoners hoped, getting drunk. But for all Morgan’s vigilance, he was not quite watchful enough. The girl whom he had so cruelly treated managed to slip away, and making her way to a neighbour’s home she informed them of what was happening. Then, despite protests, she made her way back and joined the prisoners so that her presence should not be noticed and accuse the mad Morgan to exact revenge. The neighbours immediately roused the countryside, and there was no dearth of volunteers to surround the McPherson place. The troopers were sent for, and were quickly on the scene. No attempt was made to attack the bushranger, because it was feared, at the first sign of attack, he would exact reprisals by killing out of nand some of those whom he held prisoner, i. So the watchers stayed out of

sight and never for one moment re- < laxed their vigilance. The night lost its darkness to the onset of the dawn, and still Morgan ] had not appeared to the watchers out- 1 side the homestead. They began to wonder whe her he had eluded them. Had he managed again, as he had done so many times before, to escape | the net set for his capture ? ; No, for though there was smoke j coming from the chimney of the homestead, not one of the household had made an appearance, and the girl Macdonald must have told them of what she had done. So the watchers settled down again for a period of watching. Inside the homestead, Morgan demanded that he be given breakfast, and this being supplied him he ate slpwly and with relish. This was the life. It was fine to be waited on, and to boast of being the great Dan’l Morgan. How frightened these poor fools looked. Then, having eaten his fill, he rose to go, much to the joy of the subdued household. It was then that the watchers saw a figure come through the front door onto the verandah. Fingers tightened on triggers, and rifle butts were cuddled against cheeks. But wait—this was not Morgan. It was McPherson who was coming out with Morgan close behind him prodding him on with a pistol in the small of his back. , This was evidently a percautionary measure. What were those outside to do now. Would Morgan take McPherson away with him as a hostage ? Was Morgan aware that the house was surrounded ? Apparently not, for the watchers heard him say to McPherson : “Now, what about that horse you promised to let me have?” McPherson shrugged his shoulders. He had been told by whisper from the girl what would probably happen outside, and he was feeling quite elated about the whole affair. “It’s no good me saying you can’t ! have one, because you’d just shoot me and take one.” “That’s right, I would,” sneeringly laughed Morgan. “Well, I’ll go into the paddock and get you one.” He walked away from Morgan and entered the paddock. The flesh was ! crawling up his back all the while. , as he quite expected the bushranger to practice more of his sadism and let McPherson get a distance. away j only to receive a bullet in the back. He was fully fifty yards from Morgan when he heard the shot—in fact he heard a fusillade of shots. But he had no feeling of any entering with searing heat his own flesh, for these j shots were not aimed at him. This was the volley that laid the

mad dog bushranger, Daniel Morgan, low. Morgan was riddled with lead from the rifles of the troopers and settlers who had waited so long for this chance to even the scores. He fell, but he was not dead. To the men who surrounded him as he lay breathing his last, he managed to whisper : “Why didn’t you challenge me ? Why didn’t you challenge me ? I I would have surrendered. Curse you i all, I’m innocent.” I A mad dog human had been disposed of, just as any mad canine would have been. FINIS (Willi acknowledgement to the publisher)