The Good Old Days.

Southern Cross, Volume 7, Issue 9, 11 June 1898, Page 3

The Good Old Days.

Soon after the coaches were started from Geelong to Ballarat Mr Harry Eagles, of the firm of Eagles Bros., storekeepers of Golden Point, was-one day a passenger. The coach arrived at Meredith’s all right about mid-day, and soon after the np coach from Geelong pulled up full of passengers. The two coaches met here every day, and the passengers, many of whom knew each other, dined together, and exchanged civilities ; tossed tor drinks of bottled beer at dinner, etc. Harry Eagles met a Mr Davis, whom he knew as a storekeeper at Yonil’s Flat, and they shared a bottle of sherry at dinner. Davis said he had* started early from home and ridden slowly, as he wanted the mare, which was nearly thoroughbred, to reach Geelong as fresh as possible. ‘ You are a lighter weight than I am, Eagles,’ he said, ‘ and a good rider ; yon might ride her into Geelong for me, and let me take your seat in the coach, it will be a change for both of us.’ Harry was quite agreeable, so it was settled that he should let the mare finish her feed and then ride after the coach. They went to the stable to look at her, and Davis said : ‘ She is fresh enough now, and will carry you like a bird; I suppose I may as well leave the valise on the saddle ; Cobb and Co. make a fuss about every extra pound you take into the coach.’ ‘Yes, leave it where it is,’ said Harry, ‘ I have some traps in the coach already.’ So Davis departed with the coach, and Harry Eagles stayed chatting with the landlord of the new hotel, which belonged to Gosling and Shepherd, of Geelong, and had been built as a spec. It was the first building of any importance where a large town stands now. When a mare, a light chestnut, was brought out from the stable fresh as paint, the landlord said—- ‘ She’s a beauty, Mr Eagles, and ought to be put into training; you can be in town before the coach if you choose.’ Harry mounted and rode slowly into one of the bush tracks ; road there was none, at least formed. The drays and waggons had made their own roads througn the bush, and as the country was then unfenced, whenever one track got cut up the waggons went off it, till the track covered about three miles in width. Along one of these he cantered, admiring the action of the mare, and thinking he had not made a bad exchange. The track was full of roots, and the branches of some of the she oak trees hung low, but in daylight that did not much matter. In some places large patches of the she oak had been felled by bullock drivers to let their bullocks feed on the tops, which they are very fond of, and the trunks, about a foot through, lay about in all directions. Harry Eagles was picking his way among them, when he observed two men riding at right angles towards him out ot the bush, and he came to the conclusion that he did not like the cut of them. They were coming from nowhere in particular, as there were no settlements of any kind then about that district, which was bush station property. He decided to get out of the she oak trunks as quickly as possible on to a track, and popped the mare over them like a circus horse. He got a bit ahead of the two men coming towards him, who had to pick their way also, and as soon as he was clear out on to a track he let the mare go..

Victorian Memories.

(ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.) A Ride for Life.

(By Pioneer.)

‘ Stop ! ’ The command came from behind. ‘ That’s very likely,’ said Harry to himself. * Stop ! or I’ll fire.’ ‘lt is a peculiarly unpleasant sensation te be riding away from a man or two men with pistols : yom may be hit any moment without being able to return the shot : facing a pistol with one in your own hands gives a man a show. Harry took a good grip with his knees, stuck in the Leichfords, which Davis had taken off his heels, gave the mare her head, and chanced it. The men behind were well mounted too, and followed on the track of Harry fast, as he flew through the timber, bending every second, it seemed to him, to the saddle bow". There was no choosing any track now. The only thing to do was to ride straight and chance all obstacles : sometimes it was a fallen tree over which the mare bounded like a stag, sometimes the dry bed of a creek through which she dashed, but no matter what it was, her blood was up, and there would have been no stopping her now till she had had her burst, whether there were bushrangers behind or not. Presently, crack ! and Harry thought he was hit as the blood trickled down his cheek ; the bullet had cut the bark from a tree he rode close to and a bit of it had grazed his cheek.

Finding himself unhurt, he rode madly on and began to calculate the chances of getting across a broad creek he knew that he was approaching, a good way from the log bridge that crossed. ‘lf I could cross the creek all right,’ he thought, ‘ i could overtaka the coach where they change horses. I see nothing else for it but to let the mare go and take it in a fly. If she misses it they will be up to me, and as they have fired, perhaps make short work of me. If she takes it, I’m safe. It’s the only chance T have.’ As they approached the creek the mare saw it, and gathered herself together. Harry could feel her do it and encouraged her with an English hunting cry. His blood was up now and he cared for nothing ; it was a very wide creek and of course the banks would be rotten. All the same, he rode at it madly, stuck in the spurs as he approached it, and, with a cry like rage, the mare gave one wild bound and cleared it. The race was won ; a few minutes after he galloped up to where the coach was changing horses; The mare was chestnut when he started — she was white now with sweat and foam. ‘ Why what the d ’ began Davis.’ ‘ Bushrangers!’ The one word shut his mouth. The story being told, Davis said—- ‘ What luck you were riding the mare instead of me. There are two hundred ounces of gold in that valise.’ The passengers agreed the coach should be delayed while the mare was scraped and rubbed down, and Harry rode the clipper into Geelong none the worse for her unexpected spirit; he bought her afterwards, and had many a good spin on her, but never such another as the one through the timber from Meredith.