He Was A Great Wit, As One Remark Of His Will Show.

In travelling up the country after he had been at school, we once saw some old deserted native gunyahs,

And he said to me as we rode by, pointing to them, "Gentleman's 'ouse, villa residence, I s'pose, he's gone to his watering place for the season p'r'aps." At another time, being at a place called Crowlands, he asked me why it was called so. I replied pointing to a crow on a tree, "Why, there's the crow," and stamping with my foot on the ground, "there's the land;" he immediately said, "Oh, now I know why my country is called Queensland, because it's land belonging to our Queen." I said, "Certainly it is;" then he said, "Well, ain't it funny? I never knew that before." In Melbourne, one day, we were leaning out of a window overlooking the people continually passing by. Dick said, "What for, - white fellow always walk about - walk about in town - when he always rides in the bush?" I said, "Oh, to do their business." "Business," he asked, "what's that?" I said, "Why, to get money, to be sure." "Money," he said; "white fellow can't pick up money in the street."

From the Peake we had only pack-horses and one little Scotch terrier dog. Dick left us at Hann's Creek, thirty miles from the Peake. On our road up, about halfway between the Peake and the Charlotte, we crossed and camped at a large creek which runs into the Finke, called the Alberga. Here we met a few natives, who were friendly enough, but who were known to be great thieves, having stolen things from several bullock drays, and committed other robberies; so we had to keep a sharp look out upon them and their actions. One of their number, a young man, could speak English pretty well, and could actually sing some songs. His most successful effort in that line was the song of "Jim Crow," and he performed the "turn about and wheel about and do just so" part of it until he got giddy, or pretended to be; and to get rid of him and his brethren, we gave them some flour and a smoke of tobacco, and they departed.

We arrived at the Charlotte Waters station on the 4th of August, 1872; this was actually my last outpost of civilisation. My companion, Mr. Carmichael, and I were most kindly welcomed by Mr. Johnstone, the officer in charge of this depot, and by Mr. Chandler, a gentleman belonging to a telegraph station farther up the line. In consequence of their kindness, our stay was lengthened to a week. My horses were all the better for the short respite, for they were by no means in good fettle; but the country having been visited by rains, grass was abundant, and the animals improving. The party consisted only of myself, Carmichael, and Robinson; I could not now obtain another man to make up our original number of four.

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