From this time the days flew by quickly till the last night I was to spend in the bush came round. Truly, I never knew till then that I had so many friends. People came from such a distance to say "Good-bye," for the coach started early in the morning. I had a cheque from Mr. Binney, and I had never had so much money before in all my life. I was told to get it cashed at Robetown, as Mr. Binney had no banking account in Adelaide. I had a nice present, too, from Mrs. Binney, and one from Miss Binney, which I have yet in my possession.

In the morning they were all up to see me off, and there was a scene of great excitement. Amongst the rest there were blacks from all round, shouting at the top of their voices, "You white lubra, what for you go away from my country." I had a very[Pg 73] kindly send-off, and with tears in my eyes, I bid adieu to all. All the way along the driver pointed out to me places of interest with such queer names, such as "Biscuit Flat," "Black Joe\'s Corner," "Binney\'s Lookout," and many others which I have forgotten. What interested me most was, however, the name of the place where I was to stop for the night. It was called "Mosquito Plains," and I wondered if any mosquitoes were there.

That evening we reached the "Mosquito Plains." I forget the name of the hotel where we stayed for the night, but I remember that the old landlord was making way for a new one and that there was a great crowd in and about the bar. Mr. Sinclair, the mail-driver, took me to the woman of the house and asked her to find a room for me, as I was leaving by the mail in the morning. I never saw him again.

I slept little that night, as the people were pacing about the hotel all night. The woman I had seen before told me that the coach would start about 3 o\'clock in the morning. Daylight was just breaking as I wearily got ready for my unknown journey. The driver of the mail was a quiet young man. There seemed a lot of parcels and luggage, but I was the only woman among the passengers. I hoped to reach Kingston that night. I was not much interested in our stopping-places, as I was longing to be back in Adelaide.

I had no one to talk to, so I stood by the coach while the horses were being got ready. I heard a gentleman say, "Has anybody thought of getting a cup of tea for this girl?" and the answer was "No." Then he said, "I will." In the bar they were all drinking by the lamplight, and he held a little saucepan over the lamp and made me a cup of tea. I watched him from where I was standing, with grateful thoughts that could not find expression. I often saw that gentleman afterwards in Adelaide. I was often tempted to go up to him and thank him for that cup of tea, but I did not like to do so, as I never learnt his name.

At last we were off. The inside of the coach was filled with luggage, so the passengers all sat outside, and the arrangement was not very comfortable, as there was nothing to rest one\'s back against. Some of the men who mounted the coach that morning were the worse for drink. Still, no one said anything unpleasant to me. We went speeding along through desolate scrub. The road, or, rather, the mail track, was very uneven, and I expected every moment to be thrown out. I asked the driver what I was to hold on by. He laughed and answered, "Hold on by your eyebrows." There were places on the wayside for refreshments, and about 8 o\'clock we had breakfast at one of these.

I would have liked to stop at Mosquito Plains to have a look round, but on account of the change of landlords the hotel was topsy-turvy, and I did not care for the woman I saw there. I was disappointed, for I knew that I would have to wait at Robe[Pg 74] till the wool-dray came with my things, and there are some very interesting caves near Mosquito Plains, which is now called "Narracoorte."

We arrived at Kingston and drove at once to the Kingston Hotel, which was kept by an ex-trooper from Adelaide. To my astonishment a nicely-dressed little blackgirl met me at the door. She came to see what I wanted. She was about 12 or 13 years old, and was the only female attendant in the hotel. I was a little upset, but I thought that I must not be too particular for one night, so I told her I would like some tea. She brought me quite a nice cup of tea on a tray and told me that the master would come and see me soon.

Presently the landlord came in. He was evidently in difficulties. He told me that his wife had been dead two months, and his sister had been keeping house for him; but that, owing to the sickness of his little son, she had to take the boy away to his grandmother. He said she would return on the following day. I asked if there was no other white woman about the place. He answered—"Yes, there is one; but she is ill in bed: and I am at my wit\'s end." I asked if I could see her, as, being a working-girl myself, I thought I might do something for her. The man was much agitated and replied—"Yes. She is a married woman and has been in my employ for six weeks. She had a baby this morning."

He led me through a long billiard-room and a kitchen, where some black-gins were sitting round a fire smoking, into a little back-room in the yard. There lay the poor woman and her face lit up with joy to see another white woman. I soon learned her story, which was like that of many other wanderers. Her husband had gone away to look for work, and had forgotten to come back. I sympathised with her trouble and did what I could for her that night.

On enquiry I learned that there was a doctor staying at the hotel. He was attending to several men, who were suffering from ophthalmia after shearing. But my sympathy was all with that weak woman and the dear, little baby. I learned, also, that there were only a few white women in Kingston.

Two young men who had been shipmates with me in the Morning Star came into the hotel the next morning. Their name was Ring, and they were with their father, Mr. Herbert Ring, who had a contract to facilitate the shipping of goods at Kingston, as before that no ships could come in near the shore. I was pleased to see them. They are both in Adelaide now as sharebrokers. They brought their father to see me and it seemed like civilisation again. But I had not yet done with the mail-coach.

As the coach left Kingston every day, I determined to stop with the sick woman till the landlord\'s sister came home. [Pg 75]Meanwhile the people about were negotiating with the landlord to get up a supper as they wished to celebrate the opening of a branch of some lodge. I think that the Messrs. Ring were the principal officials in that lodge. So when the housekeeper came I set to work and helped her prepare this bush "banquet." I did not know very much, but every little was a help, and they all said the supper was splendid.

Just in the middle of the preparations for supper a travelling dramatic company arrived and began to get ready to hold a performance that evening in the billiard-room. I never saw such a mixed lot of people together. I looked for the doctor, expecting to see a man in decent black clothes, but he was dressed in old, tattered garments, just like the poor shearers to whom he was attending. I understood the reason of this when I saw him staggering about. Be was a very clever man, but abandoned to drink.

The little black girl was a great help. She could fetch and carry for these poor men, who, I am afraid, were very much neglected. I saw a little of the country about Kingston and liked the look of the whole place very much. My stay at the hotel lasted from a Tuesday to the following Saturday, when the landlord drove me into Robe in his own waggonette. I had no bills to pay and received some remuneration for being so helpful. For years afterwards, if anybody who knew me stayed at the hotel, they heard kind things of me and brought me nice messages. Neither my trunk nor the steamboat had arrived, so I had to wait till the next Saturday at the Robe Hotel. The same people were there as when I went to Mr. Binney\'s. I felt just as if I were at home with them, for they were so interested in my experiences all through that year in the bush. I had enjoyed good health all the time I was away, and I arrived in Adelaide safe and well.

It was on a Sunday afternoon when I reached the Port, and my brother was on the dock waiting for me. Father and he were living at Hilton. They had a horse and trap, and my brother drove me to Hilton; but I was not many days at home, when I found that my father seemed in touch with some acquaintance I did not like; I felt outside of everything, and asked myself why I came back if there was nothing to come back for. I was out of sympathy with my surroundings, I learned that my father was about to get married again, and I felt as if I was not wanted. I could see that the old condition of things had changed. In any case, everything seemed hard for me, and I could not put matters right for other people. At best, there would be a muddle, and I thought if things came to an end quickly it would not be so hard to go. I had to go forward alone, I knew, and to face bitterness and desolation. When some one said, "I wonder you sent for your people," I thought[Pg 76] that it did not matter whether or not I lived at home, for I could not skip out of their lives. Wherever they were they were my relations. Still, if there are no love-ties, that makes loneliness more solitary. There was no ill-will, but my brother said that he would not live with father and his new wife.

So we had to do something. I told my brother that I must have some work to do, and then we might manage some little business. What else could we do? It was either that or we would have to go and live in a top-garret somewhere. So we took a house with a shop attached in Rundle-street. It stood this side of the Tavistock Hotel, but it was pulled down many years ago. There is now a saddler\'s business there. I had it fixed up as tearooms, and my brother made furniture. In any case I had to face a new kind of life, and I had no right to grumble. When we were children I remembered the happy comradeship which always existed between my brother and myself, and I was glad to be alone with him. It was a splendid time and we did fairly well, and had something to give thanks for. I could not expect that happiness to continue, and when we had been there for some time I had a strong belief that all the rest would come right in time. It was a joy to feel that I was working for my brother. Such trivial incidents may not seem worth recording, but that was my only experience in business on my own account. Youth is full of h............