NEW DEAN OF B---- MAKES HIS APPEARANCE, AND
ASTONISHES THE MAJOR OUT OF HIS PROPRIETY.
XXVI WHITE HEATHENS
XXVII THE GOLDEN VINEYARD.
XXVIII A GENTLEMAN FROM THE WARS.
XXIX SAM MEETS WITH A RIVAL, AND HOW HE TREATED HIM.
XXX HOW THE CHILD WAS LOST, AND HOW HE GOT FOUND AGAIN--WHAT
CECIL SAID TO SAM WHEN THEY FOUND HIM--AND HOW IN CASTING
LOTS, ALTHOUGH CECIL WON THE LOT, HE LOST THE PRIZE.
XXXI HOW TOM TROUBRIDGE KEPT WATCH FOR THE FIRST TIME.
XXXII WHICH IS THE LAST CHAPTER BUT ONE IN THE SECOND VOLUME.
XXXIII IN WHICH JAMES BRENTWOOD AND SAMUEL BUCKLEY, ESQUIRES,
COMBINE TO DISTURB THE REST OF CAPTAIN BRENTWOOD, R.A. AND
SUCCEED IN DOING SO.
XXXIV HOW THEY ALL WENT HUNTING FOR SEA ANEMONES AT CAPE
CHATHAM--AND HOW THE DOCTOR GOT A TERRIBLE FRIGHT--AND HOW
CAPTAIN BLOCKSTROP SHOWED THAT THERE WAS GOOD REASON FOR IT.
XXXV A COUNCIL OF WAR.
XXXVI AN EARTHQUAKE, A COLLIERY EXPLOSION, AND AN ADVENTURE.
XXXVII IN WHICH GEORGE HAWKER SETTLES AN OLD SCORE WITH WILLIAM LEE,
MOST HANDSOMELY, LEAVING, IN FACT, A LARGE BALANCE IN HIS
OWN FAVOUR.
XXXVIII HOW DR. MULHAUS GOT BUSHED IN THE RANGES, AND WHAT BEFEL HIM
THERE.
XXXIX THE LAST GLEAM BEFORE THE STORM.
XL THE STORM BURSTS.
XLI WIDDERIN SHOWS CLEARLY THAT HE IS WORTH ALL THE MONEY SAM
GAVE FOR HIM.
XLII THE FIGHT AMONG THE FERN-TREES.
XLIII ACROSS THE SNOW.
XLIV HOW MARY HAWKER HEARD THE NEWS.
XLV IN WHICH THERE ARE SOME ASTONISHING REVELATIONS WITH REGARD
TO DR. MULHAUS AND CAPTAIN DESBOROUGH.
XLVI IN WHICH SAM MEETS WITH A SERIOUS ACCIDENT, AND GETS CRIPPLED
FOR LIFE.
XLVII HOW MARY HAWKER SAID "YES."
XLVIII THE LATEST INTELLIGENCE.

Chapter I

INTRODUCTORY.

Near the end of February 1857, I think about the 20th or so, though it
don't much matter; I only know it was near the latter end of summer,
burning hot, with the bushfires raging like volcanoes on the ranges,
and the river reduced to a slender stream of water, almost lost upon
the broad white flats of quartz shingle. It was the end of February, I
said, when Major Buckley, Captain Brentwood (formerly of the
Artillery), and I, Geoffry Hamlyn, sat together over our wine in the
veranda at Baroona, gazing sleepily on the grey plains that rolled away
east and north-east towa