That's right. Thank God for it. And now just put a
few things together while I speak to the captain. I'll see that your
baggage is cleared and sent up all right after you. My dog-cart's
waiting, and will take your friend and yourself and what things you may
want for a few days."

The speaker's manner was that of a man of good birth and education, with
the peculiar tone of independence which characterises the old colonist.
Hubert and Frank both felt at their ease with him at once.

It was arranged that Jacob Poole should remain with Captain Merryweather
for a few days, and should then join his new master in Adelaide. After
a very hearty leave-taking with the captain, the young men and Mr
Abraham Oliphant were soon on shore.

There was no railway from the port to the city in those days, but
travellers were conveyed by coaches and port-carts, unless they were
driven in some friend's carriage or other vehicle. Driving tandem was
much the fashion, and it was in this way that Hubert and Frank were
making their first journey inland.

"Now, my dear Hubert, and Mr Oldfield, jump in there; give me your
bags; now we're all right;" and away they started.

The first mile or two of their journey was not particularly inviting.
They passed through Albert Town, and through a flat country along a very
dusty road, trees being few and far between. A mile farther on and they
saw a group of natives coming towards them with at least half-a-dozen
ragged looking dogs at their heels. The men were lounging along in a
lordly sort of way, entirely at their ease; one old fellow, with a
grizzly white beard and hair, leaning all his weight on the shoulders of
a poor woman, whom he was using as a walking-stick. The other women
were all heavily-laden, some with wood, and others with burdens of
various sorts, their lords and masters condescending to carry nothing
but a couple of light wooden spears, a waddy, or native club, and a
boomerang.

"Poor creatures!" exclaimed Hubert; "what miserable specimens of
humanity; indeed, they hardly look human at all."

"Ah," said his uncle, "there are some who are only too glad to declare
that these poor creatures are only brutes, that they have no souls.
I've heard a man say he'd as soon shoot a native as a dingo; that is, a
wild dog."

"But _you_ don't think so, dear uncle?"

"Think so! no indeed. Their intellects are sharp enough in some things.
Yes; it is very easy to take from them their la