The Vermont transcript. [volume] (St. Albans, Vt.) 1864-1870, 1868-03-06
General Miscellany.
THE SHEPHERDS HUT:
OR,
IT'S THIRTEEN YEARS SINCE.

Ase k4a1A LGAAN DIM &c
II was a bitter night i'm June: and
although there was neither snow 40
ice. for such phenomena rarely dis
inguiSh an Australian winter. vet Tn,
damp, raw wind blew from the south
crn ocean with hollow roar and pene
trating power that no great-coat coul,
DEFY. Never had felt such a chillincs,
az the very bones as on this, to me, event
ful evening in the year 1852, when. issu
ingfrOm the long, iTregularly built wood
en- structure dignitied by the name O
the " Cafe de lEuropen into BourSe
street, | made my way through the un
even, rut-wrinkied streets of Melbourne
toward the little inn called The Gold
en- Nugget" where | expected to fine
my horse and gig.
What magical changes 20 few wear,
sometimes produce Can this princeiy
city that | now behold, with its broad
well-payed, gas-lit streets, that would
not disgrace the West End of our Lon.
don, and actually put to shame those OF
our great manufacturing capitals of Man
chester, Liverpool, and Birmingham
this city, with its glittering shops, lis
noble public buildings, elegant churches.
and charitable institutions. its theatres
concert halls, museums, libraries, giant
warehouses and docks, its business and
Its riches: this city that cries second to
few of its century-aged rivals in the old
world; can it indeed be the same as the
comfOrtless, dreary spot of almost Sibe-
rian Wretchedness that | knew fourteen
years since?
But most Of my readers, if they did
not see. have yet been made familiar, in
81 81. l.
with the aspect OF Melbourne at the first
breaking out Of the gold fever 1t is
during this stormy period that the incl
dents of my tale are laid, and that | first
set foot on the shores of this great CONT
nent.
1 did not come, however, as a seeker
Of the yellow metal. ! had no ambition
to become a digger. In fact, reason
taught me then what experience has
since convinced me Of-that he who, by
hard toll, finds the gold makes not 50
great profit as he who, keeping to his
trade and profession, wins by his brains
the wealth secondhand.
| was a detective police-ofiicer and
quilted the service at home for reasons
which my conscience approved of, and
owing in great measure to an adven-
ture which have no space to relate here,
but which would supply incidents for a
more thrilling narrative than the pre-
sent, in which form / may one day tell
il 10 you.
Bound by honor not again to exercise
my calling in the old country, | had no
scruple at doing so in the new; and
when ! arrived at Melbourne at the close
of the year 1861, found there was plen-
~ OF opening for me. The police ar
Engagements were very ineffective-mur-
ders, stabbings, and other outrages We're
Of frequent occurrence in the city and
throughout the country round-prOw-
ling ruflians-escaped convicts from
Sydney or Van Diemen's Land-where
ever ready TO waylay and murder the
wandering digger. for the sake OF the
gold they expected TO findon his person.
One OF the greatest scoundrels Of the
latter class had, by the number of muir
ders he had committed, earned the cog
nOnon Of Dick the Devil" His out
RACES had extended to within quarter
of mile of the town; he was wont TO
boast that he killed man a week, and
robbed one a day; and SO anxious was
every one for his capture, that one thous-
and pounds were offered for his body,
alive or dead.
This was the very worthy was about
TO seek when I quilted the a Cafe de
I Europe and turned my steps down
Bourke street on the evening in ques-
ton.
| had come to the knowledge that he
would be at a hut a mile or so Off the
highway to Bundura, at eleven O'Clock
that night. That hut was inhabited by
a shepherd belonging to neighboring
run, who was evidently, through fear or
an accOmplice of the rutfian.
| did not. however, fear the odds against
reward offered was more than
with the danger incurred.
Had | taken an aid, that reward must
have been shared, which | did not care
for; the more particularly as the honor
of the affair would have to be divided
also. a revolver and a bowe-knife
were my best friends; and the only
thing that caused me annoyance was,
that a recent kick from horse prevent
ed my crossinga saddle, or walking very
far. l therefore hired light gig; for |
knew the road to within a mile of the
spot to be a pretty good one, and | could
then hobble my horse, and creep the
rest of the distance on foot.
| consulted my watch-it was nine
o'clock, and as had eight miles to drive,
and perhaps one to walk, it was time to
be en- route. So, after tossing off mob
bier of rum-punch to keep the cold out,
and examining the caps on my revolv-
er. | clambered into my somewhat di-
lapidated vehicle, gathered up the reins,
and whipped the rawboned old mare in
to trOt.
1t should have been light night, for
the moon was nearly at its full but the
heavy masses of cloud only allowed her
radiance to appear occasionally, and at
other times the darkness was so intense
that / could scarcely see my horses head.
This. however, / did not very much
heed. | knew that the old mare knew
every inch of the road. / had received
that / could not very well
mistake as to the discovery of the shep-
herds hut, and the peculiar business
upon which | was engaged rendered
darkness more welcome than light to
me.
had proceeded in this way some
three miles or so, when shrill voice
hailed me with:
" Arrah, your honor, will you be CIV
ing puir lone woman lift as far as
he Bell, at Bundura, and it's many
hanks she'll offer We for the throuble?"
| drew in my sorry nag at this sudden
greeting, and as | did so, the moonlight
glinted out from rift in the leaden
clouds, and beheld, standing close to
the roadside, a gaunt and decrepid-look-
ing bag of some seventy years of age,
her clothes a mere bundle of rags, and
hlthy-looking in the extreme, whilst
from beneath a large mob-cap, which
once, doubtless had been white, butnow
retained little evidence ofthe fact. aIock
or two of struggling gray hair waved i'm
the wind. In short, the appearance of
this strange old woman resembled SO
closely one of the weird sisterhood in
q Macbeth that a more unattractiye
for lonely nights drive
could hardly be imagined.
"What are you doing here at this time
Of night, my friend Pr / asked.
Och, faith, your honor, We may well
lsk the question. Sure, and it's the mar
zet I've been ATTENDING at all day, and
hon I hiHaH 10 faIr 1.cl, <,f taxr