“Hear a little further, And I will bring thee to the present business
What’s now upon us; without the which this story
Were most impertinent.”
The Tempest.
“Sydney, N.S.W.,
“March 10th, 1890.
“Mr. Richard Shaw, Te Renga-renga, Drury, New Zealand.
"D
EAR DICK,—I have at last a few hours to myself, during which I can sit down quietly, here in my room, which overlooks the Botanical Gardens and ‘our beautiful harbour,’ and write to my relatives and friends.
 
“I was very glad to get your letter yesterday, and learn that you are all well up to date. As for myself, I am pretty well, thank you. After380 getting rid of the ophthalmic troubles which seized upon my eyes whilst I was lying ill in the fly-pestered north, I went to Brisbane, where, of course, I got low fever. My trip to Melbourne,—Smelbourne the Bulletin calls it, and rightly,—which is the dirtiest if the most go-ahead city in Australia, however, set me up and fattened me, but also gave me typhoid fever. It was only a slight touch, however, and the return voyage to Sydney has put me on my legs again.
 
“Since last I wrote I have pretty well arranged all my affairs on this side of the water, and you may expect to see me in New Zealand before very long. I may as well run over the chief items of interest that have eventuated since I last wrote, before setting forth for your edification the outline of the scheme that I shall probably adopt for carrying out my uncle’s idea of ameliorating the condition of the Australian aborigines.
 
“In accordance with my uncle’s half-expressed wish, in the letter of instructions which I discovered at his grave, I have made my respected friend and adviser, Mr. Winze, a quarter proprietor in the marvellous ‘Golden Cliffs,’ and he has started for the north to superintend the erection of the chlorination plant at the Mount, where already a small village has sprung up in the desert round the ‘doctor’s’ no longer lonely resting-place.
 
“Glory is still staying with her friends in Brisbane, and I am starting by to-morrow’s boat to interview her upon a very particular subject, the result of which confabulation I will communicate to the ‘Mater’ next mail.
 
381
 
“I have gathered no information which tends to throw any fresh light upon the terrible occurrence at Agate Creek. I was so long laid on the shelf at the shepherd’s hut at Borbong run that the perpetrators of the crime—if a crime was committed—upon the night of the storm had ample time to hide all traces of it. At any rate, when I revisited the site of the camp amongst the rocks, there was not the slightest indication of anything wrong having taken place there.
 
“Giles’s body, as you know, was found, and so was Morth’s. The latter, a police officer, was drowned trying to swim his horse across the creek after a fugitive black fellow. The former probably met with his death in a similar manner. I cannot think that Giles intended to attack us, having, as I have ascertained, received my letter previously; besides there were too many witnesses about. I rather expect that Giles and Morth’s party mistook our camp for that of some Myall natives. It is by no means the first time such a mistake has occurred in the colony. And cannot we see the finger of Fate in all this? The sins of the father, Giles, visited upon the child, my poor little friend Don. I miss the little fellow tremendously.
 
“The people in the neighbourhood of Murdaro keep very close about the affair, as all the powerful squatters round had a hand in the ‘rounding-up’ party that destroyed Billy’s villager friends, and with little doubt our camp as well. It would be a very risky work to attempt an investigation. To tell the truth, also, I have not pushed for an inquiry into the matter for fear of something turning up that might prove an extra source of pain to Glory, who has been fearfully 382 cut up, poor girl, as it is, with the double loss of her father—of whom she was very fond—and her brother, to whose return home she was looking forward with so much pleasure.
 
“Glory is supposed to be under the impression that it was the flooded state of the creek that caused the loss of the père et fils; but I am afraid the poor girl has an inkling of the dreadful truth, or rather what I take to be the truth.
 
“Miss Lileth Mundella, to whom I had the pleasure—to cut a long story short—of communicating the fact, which I learnt from certain papers I found at the grave, of her uncle Giles having unjustly kept her out of a large share in Murdaro run, has apparently already made good use of her new position as an heiress, for she writes to say she is about to marry a wealthy squatter near Bourke.
 
“Inspector Puttis has therefore been jilted. Nor is this the only misfortune that has befallen this gentleman,—who, although personally unknown to me, took a good deal of interest in your humble servant, as you are aware, some time since,—for he has, upon the ‘recommendation’ of the Commissioner of Police, resigned his commission in the Black Corps.
 
“Mr. Missionary Feder, with whom I am in business communication, informs me that Puttis’s late fiancée has probably been the cause of this energetic officer’s enforced withdrawal from public life.
 
“And now with regard to my uncle’s letter of instructions and scheme.
 
“It would seem from the papers which I discovered in the tin box addressed to me at the grave, that 383 my uncle Dyesart was what is called a disappointed man, and that the lady who jilted him afterwards married Giles and became the mother of Glory. Mrs. Giles died in giving birth to little Don, or rather George.
 
“I gather that the wild speculation or gambling—call it what you will—in mining concerns, that ultimately caused uncle to begin life again in the colonies, was the outcome of this disappointment. And that this, combined with a hope to be able to return my mother’s fortune, which had gone with the rest, had more to do with my uncle’s ceaseless wanderings, than any real belief in the wonderful Golden Hill that he had been told of by the dying miner. It was during these wanderings that my uncle was shocked with the treatment of the aborigines by the whites, and he has commissioned me, or rather desired me, which amounts to the same thing, to use a considerable part of the wealth thus suddenly placed in his hands for the amelioration of the condition of the Australian blacks. Dyesart had intended publishing a book upon this subject, and I quote the following from his MSS. in order to show you a sample of his thoughts. After recounting a number of cases of cruelty that had come within his personal knowledge, he says:—
 
“‘After habitual crime, especially after that which involves cruelty, the human mind, so prison and other authorities say, loses that correcting sense of right and wrong which John Stuart Mill, and other experts in Socialism, tell us is one of the foundation stones of a stable social system. This sense is as valuable—perhaps more so—than those of seeing, hearing,384 et cetera. Taking it for granted that it is by the senses alone that we hold any communication with our fellows, it follows that any individual must have his mind impaired, as far as those particular senses of which he has become bereft are concerned. And that such an individual’s mind may not be further impaired by the privation of such sense or senses, arises only from his not endeavouring to reason about things concerning which that sense or those senses could alone give him information. He compares only what he perceives, and therefore continues to make comparisons which, however limited, are still correct. For example, there are not uncommon cases of men who, as regards colour, do not know green from red; or again, where taste is concerned, a much commoner case, cannot tell the difference between ’47 port and a poisonous concoction of logwood, sugar, and other ingredients. Such defects or impairments are commonly discovered and avowed by the persons affected, and they rely on the judgment of others concerning those things of which they have themselves no accurate sense. A man could not assert, without fear of being judged insane, that green was red; and, following the same argument, can he say without undergoing a similar risk that a cruel, cowardly, or murderous action was either than what it is? If, however, his sense of right and wrong are missing, from hereditary taint or the benumbing influence of criminal companionship, he may possibly believe such actions to be commendable; but whilst in the society of sane persons, with minds of the usual capacity, he will hardly express his own contorted opinion—say, that taking pleasure in the slaughter of defenceless and385 healthy men, women, and children is an honourable action, and worthy of a brave and good citizen.’
 
“It is not so much the ultimate destruction of the aboriginal race, as it now exists, that my uncle seems to have hoped might be prevented, nor did he apparently deplore that such a thing should take place eventually. He says that a native race, in order to survive the changes wrought in its surroundings by the incoming of a foreign and superior civilization, must have within itself the power of being able to change its customs and mode of life, and of rapidly adapting itself to the new order of things. It must, in fact, be like that singular animal, the armadillo, of South America, which, having altered most of its habits sinc............