; his younger brother was expected
back from a trip to the north and east, where he had gone to look for
new pastoral runs. When he returned, he told us he had not only been
very successful in that way, but had succeeded in capturing a native
desperado, against whom a warrant was out, and who had robbed some
shepherds' huts, and speared, if not killed, a shepherd in their
employ. Mr. Frank Wittenoom was leading this individual alongside of
his horse, intending to take him to Geraldton to be dealt with by the
police magistrate there. But O, tempora mutantur! One fine night, when
apparently chained fast to a verandah post, the fellow managed to slip
out of his shackles, quietly walked away, and left his fetters behind
him, to the unbounded mortification of his captor, who looked
unutterable things, and though he did not say much, he probably
thought the more. This escape occurred at Yuin, to which place I had
returned with Mr. E. Wittenoom, to await the arrival of Mr. Burgess.
When we were all conversing in the house, and discussing some
excellent sauterne, the opportunity for his successful attempt was
seized by the prisoner. He effected his escape through the good
offices of a confederate friend, a civilised young black fellow, who
pretended he wanted his hair cut, and got a pair of sheep shears from
Mr. Wittenoom during the day for that apparent purpose, saying that
the captive would cut it for him. Of course the shears were not
returned, and at night the captive or his friend used them to prise
open a split link of the chain which secured him, and away he went as
free as a bird in the air.

I had Mr. Burgess's and Mr. Wittenoom's company to Cheangwa, and on
arrival there my party had everything ready for a start. We arranged
for a final meeting with our kind friends at a spring called Pia, at
the far northern end of Mr. Wittenoom's run. A great number of natives
were assembled round Cheangwa: this is always the case at all frontier
stations, in the Australian squatting bush. Some of the girls and
young women were exceedingly pretty; the men were not so attractive,
but the boys were good-looking youngsters. The young ladies were
exceedingly talkative; they called the camels emus, or, as they
pronounced it, immu. Several of these girls declared their intention
of coming with us. There were Annies, and Lizzies, Lauras, and Kittys,
and Judys, by the dozen. One interesting young person in undress
uniform came up to me and