ggested we should
sink another shaft, which we bottomed, and it turned out with similar
results. Carolan had now sunk his second shaft with no payable results,
and as I was dissatisfied with the result of my new venture, we both
decided to go prospecting. This we did, dry-blowing in the ranges with
no payable results.

I afterwards met "Greasy Bill" at the Cape township, when he informed me
that after I had left he had struck it rich in both claims. Others told
me he had boasted he had got five hundred pounds out of the claim by
abstracting the gold from the bag when I was not looking, and that the
claim I pegged out was good throughout.

Our experiences as diggers had completely disgusted Carolan and me, so
on hearing that carriage of loading to the gold field was very high, we
determined to start as carriers.

I heard that a Mr. Mytton, of Oak Park Station, had a team of bullocks
for sale, and having some money in the Savings Bank at ----, we decided
to travel to Oak Park to investigate.

On reaching Craigie Station, on the Clarke River, to enquire the way,
Mr. Saunders, the owner, informed us that he had seven bullocks and a
dray for sale for L120, but I wished to purchase a full team of 12 or
16, such as Mr. Mytton had at Oak Park, and decided to go there. Mr.
Saunders kindly lent us a Snider rifle for protection, as the blacks
were bad through the ranges, between his station and Mytton's.

[Illustration: FITZMAURICE, CORFIELD, AND TOM FOX. (Taken in 1880).]

We camped the first night at the Broken River, a weird looking place.
This was about May, 1868, and the nights being very cold we would
place one blanket under and have the other over us, with our heads on
the saddle, and the rifle between us. During the night I was awakened by
my saddle being pulled from my head. I immediately caught the rifle, and
turning around saw a native dog dragging my saddle by one of the straps.
Without waking my mate, who was a man six feet in height, I fired----.
Carolan made one leap, taking the blanket with him, saying he was shot.
This frightened me also. However, the howling of the dog who had
apparently received the bullet through his body, and full explanations
restored calm and a feeling of safety. In the morning we tracked the dog
to the water-hole, where we found him dead.

On arrival at Oak Park, without further adventures, I found Mr. Mytton
had leased his team of bullocks and waggon to a man named Jack Howell,
who