THE MYSTERIOUS SHOT.

Waikato Times, Volume XXIII, Issue 1884, 2 August 1884, Page 1 (Supplement)

THE MYSTERIOUS SHOT.

The scene is changed to Australia— a September morning in Riverina. The sun has just risen over that belt of pines in the far east which marks the devious course of the Murrumbidgce ; and the copper sky, under the influence of the great orb of day, bursts into a thousand prismatic glories. The shadows from tho clumps of sheoak and peppermint, scattered like outlying pickets over the rolling plainß, fling fantastic shapes on the emerald verdure. Tha lazj cattle, half hidden in the luxuriant trefoil, rise from the dank, dewy grass, and wander leisurely over the vast paddocks, cropping as they go the abundant pasturage. A sharp, bracing wind comes sweeping across the plains, filling the lungs of all who inhale it with oxygen, and making the blood stir, and the heart leap, like a draught of strong wine. The season has been a mild one ; water is abundant, and along the river stations shearing is about to coinmonce. Those incorrigible nomads who work for a week or two at the lambing and shearing times, and loaf for the remainder of the year — " sundowners," "Murrumbidgce whalers," and "Murray coasters " gather in droves from all points of the compass, making for tho Murrumbidgee. Shearing time is to them a time of plenty— an oasis in tho desert of their lives. A few weeks of hard work and good living, with a cheque to receive which will furnish a dayor two of uproarious debauchery— these two items constitute the average bush tramp's paradise. The book yet remains to be written of the inner liio of Australia, in which this strange, scampish race figures so largely. Truth, stranger than fiction, has not yet fully touched upon the strange lomance of life which has brought men of all grades— tenderly nurtured and college-bred men, who once styled themselves gentlemen; broken-down merchants and ruined ppendthrifts ; drunken members of the liberal professions and plodding laborers, to the dead level of swagmen. Some day, perhaps, a keen observer— instead of taking a hasty scamper through this land of anomalies, and then writing a superficial book concerning it, in the style of Count Smorltork and Anthony Trollope— may devote his talents to a study of these Australian Bedouins. To such an investigator, a week passed in a Eouseabout hut at shearing time, i will .furnish materials for a dozen romances of wasted lives, folly, and crime, far exceeding in sensationalism the most thrilling pages of our modern school of novelists. Along the Government road leading from Wagga Wagga to Hay, two horsemen were riding at a brisk pace. As each turn of the winding bush road revealed some new feature in the landscape, they exchanged notes of admiration. " X *?> indeed, a glorious land, Curzon," eaid bis companion, whose identity our reader will have no difficulty in establishing " These shepherd kings have a right rojal domain to rule over. A fruitful soil, a genial chmate, and an Italian sky— why, it is a perfect Arcadia." Curzon laughed. "You forget the other side of the picture, Falkland," ho said. " Bemember the doloious complaints of that queer old fellow whom we met in Sydney. According to his version, theie are seasons when the heavenß are of brass, the creeks and runnels dry holes of clay, the now luxuriant plains sandy deserts, whitened by the bleached skeletons of myriads of sheep and cattle which have perished for lack of feed and water. As the old boy remarked, life is not oil beer ana skittles, even to a Eiverina squatter. " " True enough," rejoined his friend, "but you, too, forget that he said one good season I paid for two or three bad ones. However, we are much too green hands— or ' new chums,' I as they style us here— to discuss such quesons.' "j T ,? e T°y a S e has done^ou good, Falkland, said Curzon, after a pause. " Yet I fear the search for that scoundrel will take a longer time than you imagine. See how completely baffled we were at Melbourne. Edmonds has effectually concealed all trace of his whereabouts. He knows of your father's death, and he cannot but surmise that you have been made acquainted with the whole affair. You have nothing to dread at his hands, save the publicity of poor Sir Eustace's rash act; while Edmonds knows there is a halter in prospective if this Fowler were really his-companion on the night of the murder, and can ba induced to confess." "Just bo," replied Falkland. "If I can secure Fowler's assistance, and compel Edmonds, by threats of bringing him to justice, to give me that cheque, I am content to let the scoundrel a o.ie to carve his own way to the gallows. But should all fail, I will place the matter in the hands of the authorities ; only as a last resource, you understand." "We ought to be somewhere near Fowler's station, judging from the pace we have udden, eai Curzon. " I'll ask yonder geneman with a bundle." About a hundred yards abend of them, »