injured. This they were obliged to do, in consequence of the ignorance
or carelessness of the people in charge of them. These, with few
exceptions, had been convicts. Of those who had been convicts, some
were still working out their sentences with tickets-of-leave, while
others, who were free to go where they liked, were too old and destitute
of energy to venture on a change of occupation, and remained as before,
hut-keepers or shepherds. At each inferior station there was a hut with
a hut-keeper, whose duty was to look after the hut, to cook the
provisions, and to tend the sheep or cattle brought for any special
purpose into the fold or pen. The office was usually held by some old
convict or other person unfit for hard labour. Though occasionally
there is enough to do, it is considered an idle, lazy life.

The brothers often rode together to the stations, to assist each other;
but they had lately, for the sake of covering more ground in the course
of the day, taken separate districts, that the stockmen might be kept
constantly on the alert, not knowing any moment when the active young
managers might pay them a visit. Notwithstanding this, cattle and sheep
continued to disappear as before, and they came to the resolution of
making every man responsible who lost an animal, and stopping his wages
till it was replaced. One day, after a hard morning's work, Arthur
Gilpin found himself approaching the rear of a hut, on an out station,
at the extreme end of the territory over which the cattle ranged--the
whole being considerably larger than many a German principality. The
ground was soft, and his horse's hoofs making no noise, it was not till
he got in front of the hut that the dog, ever found as its guardian
(either well-bred deer-hound or cur of low degree), came bounding up
towards him, barking loudly. In this case the animal was a remarkably
handsome deer-hound, of a size and strength sufficient to drag him from
his horse. The hut-keeper was seated in a rough sort of easy-chair, and
was apparently fast asleep.

"Hillo, my man, call off your dog, or he and I may do each other an
injury," shouted Arthur; "he is a noble brute, and I should not like to
hurt him, if I could help it!"

The man started up, a book dropping from his hand. "Come back, good
Brian; come back, sir!" he cried out. "I must apologise, Mr Gilpin,
for not hearing you; but I was overcome, I believe, by the heat," he
added, as he took the hors