The Newtown bee., 1879-08-13
!. AK ESCAPE FROM AUSTRALIA.
The True Story ufi the Adventures of
 John Boyle O'Reilly.
n the Boston Pilot, John Boy

The True Story vfi the Adventures of
 John Boyle O'Reiliy.
 In the Boston Pilot, John Boyle O'Reilly, its e'itor, gives the first cor rect story of hls escape from the penal colony of West Australia, to which he was consigned as 9 Fcnlan m some ten years ago. The story is as follows:
 For several months previous to the date ofmy escape, had been resolved on and in preparation for an attempt. No one knew my mind I had before seen so many fail that I concluded it was best to make the effort alone. Fortu- nately, I was dissuaded from this pur- pose. One day Twas visited at the camp of the convict road party named above by Rev. Patrick McCabe. 8 Catholic priest, whose ''parish !" extended over hundreds of miles of bush, and whose only parishioners were convicts and to my hut, and we walked together into the bush. I had then made all my plans for escape, and I freely told him my in tention. s' It is an excellent way to com init suicide" he said and he would not speak of it any more As he was leav- ing me, however, he leaned from his saddle and said, Don't think of that again. Let me think out a plan for you. You'll hear from me before long" l was not compelled to work with the criminal gang on the roads, but had charge of their stores and carried the warden's weekly report to the Bunbury depot. On my way with this report one day l came to plain known as the "Race-Course." As crossed it I heard "coo-ee," or bush cry, and saw a man coming toward me. He was a big, handsome fellow, with an axe on his shoulder. He came to me with 8 friend ly smile. My name is Mcguire" he said; I'm friend of Father Macs, and he's been speaking about you" l said as little as possible, not knowing the man. Seeing my hesitation he drew out a card from his wallet, on which Father McCabe had written a few words to me. Then I trusted him. Ike told me he was clearing the race-course, and he would ke at work there 8 month. The Ameri- can whalers, he said, would touch at Bunbury for water in February Git was then December), and he was going to make all arrangements with one of the captains formy escape.
 Early in February, on my return from the weekly trip with the report, found Mcguire at the race course waiting for me. " Are you ready?" he said. One of the whaiers, the bark Vigilant, ot New Bedford, was to sal in four days, and Captain Baker had agreed to take me on board, if he saw me at sea outside Australian waters; and he haG even promised to cruise two or three days and watch for my coming out.
 Mcguire had everything arranged. On the night of the 18th I was to get out of my hut at eight o'clock and strike into the bush on line of his selection, where the native trackers would be at fault. I had previously secured a pair of freemen's shoes, as the trackerS could easily discern the mark of a convict's boot Having left the camp, l was to hold a straight road through the bush till came to an old convict station on the Vase road, where I was to lie till 1 heard some one on the road whistle the first bars of " Patrick's Day" This was repeated again and again till we were sure we both had every point agreed. Then we separated.
 | At seven o'clock that evening the warden of the convict party visited the l criminals hut and found that all were present. He saw me sitting in my hut as he passed on his return. One of the l cOnvicts soon after came into my hut to borrow tobacco and stayed a .long l time, making me very nervous. Hewent away before eight, however, and, as soon as he was gone, changed my boots, put | out the light and struck into the buSh. l The forest was dark, but the stars were i clear. I had not gone two hundred yards when l saw man close to me, l evidently following me. Iwaited till he came up It was mahogany sawyer, named Kelly, whose pit was close to my hut. He was a good fellowmthough he had been transported for lifs ssAre you off p'' he said. in & whisper. '" 1 knew you meant it. 1 saw you talking to Ma guire a month ago. and knew 1t aI." was dumb with astonishment and alarm. If this man had wished he could have put the police on the alert, or he could do it next day. He held out his husky voice. "God speed you,' he said, giving me a grip like wise; " I'll put them on the wrong scent to-morro W, i! I can" l shook the manly hand in si- lence, and kept on my way.
 About eleven o'clock came to the old convict station, and lay down behind 3 great gum tree at the roadside. In hal
 an hour or so two men rode us, but
 passed on. They were farmers, proba
 ply. but may be patrol of mounted l police. Shortly after l heard horses coming at sharp trot. They halted nearme. and heard "Patrick's Day whistled clear and low. In an instan
 was with them-Maguire anC another friend, M. They led spare horse. I mounted at once, and withou
 word we struck into the bush at { gallop. For hours we rode on in silence At last Mcguire, who led, pulled up dismounted and whistled- Another whistle was heard. and in a few minutes
 we were joined by three men, two o them cousins of Mcguire. The thirt took the horses and went off after shak
 ing hands with me. We then formed il
 Indian fl 10 t0 rreyent the discovery O
 .he number, each one covering tn
 others tracks, and walked on for abou
 another mile, till we came to dr.
 swamp near the sea.
 Here M-- remained with me, whil
 the others went forward. M tolt 5 me that we were close to Bunbury, ant |. that the others were. gone for the boat
 After half an hours anxious waiting W
 saw light, as if match were struck at half mile distant. This was repeatet three times, and then we went forward . l yWo fo,,p6 Mo yuaitipn for np