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or the like of that, on the cross; but that was not often. At.the time I mention, the Bronze Pigeon was the only inn between New Norfolk, and the Clyde; and when people wa'n't in a hurry, they generally made Will Preston's their resting-place for the night; for Will had seen a deal of life, and was as full of fun and joke, as an egg's full of meat.

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'It was on a Tuesday after Christmas Day, 1823, when me, and Jack Snodgrass, and Peter Bumpus had gone up to Will's to spend an hour or two afore we went to 'tend a sale of cattle at the Clyde, the next day. We had a goodish deal o'money between us; and me, being the steadiest of the lot, was commissioned to carry it. Well: we got to Will's about eight o'clock, and a precious hot ride, we had of it! The thick bush, which began, where Jack Martin now lives, kept off the sun a little, but it kept away the little sea-breeze that was, and the lots of snakes and lizards, as we saw that evening, was truly terrifying: but we was on horseback, and did'n't

mind 'em.

"Will was at home, and so was his wife, my sister's husband's cousin,—and a roaring set of lads he had there. The little parlour, alongside the bar, was choke full, and out of the whole set, I only knew two, that was, Ned Humphries, of Brown's River, who had come on the same errand with ourselves, and Ben Bodlicott of Bagdad, who was returning home, after having been up the country, dooking for some stray cattle-but, looking, as you may well suppose, in vain. My eyes! How they did shout, when we came into the room!-No place was too good for us!And Will, in his waggish way, wanted to light a fire to warm us! The vagabone! But we called for some ginger beer and brandy, and some tobacco, and sat down quietly to rest ourselves; for we had to go about two miles further to Edward Wilson's farm.

"The Bushrangers had been in this neighbourhood a night or two ago, and the whole party was a-talking about 'em. They had robbed a hut, not two miles off, belonging to Mr. B; and had carried off a precious good swag. "What d fools," said a strange and rather genteel looking young man, who sat in one corner of the room, smoking his pipe, and drinking some toddy,was these here 'signed servants, to let these Bushrangers ransack their hut. I'd a stood a breeze with 'em, first, I know." "Would you?" said Peter Bumpus.

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Mayhap you don't know

what sort of fellows these Bushrangers be?"

“Don't I?” replied the genteel young man-"Crikey! I thinks I knows as much about 'em as most men."

"Why?" asked Peter, in his cool, quiet way.

"Why? Because I've seen more on 'em, nor you has."

"I don't know that," said Peter, sharply" and I should like to hear how, or when, or where.'

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Why," retorted the other, "have you ever fell in with any Brady's mob?"

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"Brady's mob!" echoed Peter, scornfully-" Aye! There a'n't a fellow of that ere crew, but what I knows well."

The devil there ant;" answered the young man, shaking the ashes out of his pipe, and proceeding coolly to refill it. "I'll bet you a glass of grog, you don't know Brady himself."

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"Done!" said Peter, quickly-"I'll make it glasses round,' if

you like."

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With all my heart," said the stranger: "but how will you prove it?"

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Why, by describing him to you," answered Peter. "Brady, when I see'd him last, was a good-looking young chap, with light hair, blue eyes, a gentleman-like swing, and the civilest spoken youth I have seen for a long time. Now, an't that correct?"

"It is!-it is!" cried half-a-dozen voices, while the young stranger laughed, ready to crack his sides. "I'm afraid, Ned," he said, turning to a rough-looking cove behind him, "I shall lose my bet: what do you think?"

"Think?" growled Ned-" Why I think, that Bill Brady is no more like that gowk's description, than he's like a wax doll."

"What do you mean, Sir?" said Peter, sharply. "Do you mean to say, that Brady, the Bushranger, is not like this?"

"To be sure I do; and what's more, I'll prove it to you, before a week passes."

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"Hush, Ned," whispered his companion-(I was lighting my pipe at the table, and heard him) Hush," he said "let the fool prate on: I'll pay the wager, any how." "There's for you!" shouted Peter. "After all the company agrees with me-to dispute in this way! But I'll leave it to the company; and what they says, I'll stand to."

"After a little wrangling, it was agreed that the young stranger should pay the bet, which he immediately did, with much goodhumour, and, settling his score, he called for his horse, and, accompanied by his friend Ned, and two other men, left the house.

"Having drank our glasses round, we began to think of going on, but Will Preston strongly persuaded us to stay; and the more he persuaded, the more were we resolved upon going. The night was as light as a bright full moon could make it, the road we knew very well, and it was then only just past nine o'clock; so away we went, with just enough grog aboard to make us merry and comfortable.

"I wonder who them chaps was, as was a chaffing of me," said Peter Bumpus, as we were going slowly down the Gum-tree Gully: "He was a precious jolly fellow, him as I won the wager of." "Oh! some new chums, I dare say," said I, "the young one seemed plenty green enough.'

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"I don't know that," said Jack Snodgrass, who never said much, but when he did open his potatoe-trap, it was always to some pur:-"I don't know that," said he "and I think there's more about that youngster, than any on us knows of."

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"Well, that may be," replied Peter: "but if travelling on this beat, without arms, on a moon-shiny night, ar'nt a green trick, blow me if I know what is!"

"That's why I think he's no new chum, and that there is something more about him, than we know of," said Jack.

"Mayhap," continued Peter, chaffing him, "you think he is one of Brady's mob?"

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Mayhap, I do," said Jack, coolly, and looking closely at the priming of his pistols: " and I begin to think it was no wise scheme of ours to leave Will Preston's, and the Bushrangers here

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"Dthe Bushrangers!" bawled Peter, whose courage was wonderfully increased by the grog he had swallowed. "They must be bold blades to attack such boys as we.

"To tell the truth," said I, in a low voice," I should not like to meet any of those chaps just now; for I have a glorious swag for them.'

"Come along with your bother." cried Peter, spurring on his horse; and, having cleared the Gully, we went on at a brisk canter.

There is a thick serub about a quarter of a mile before you come to Edward Wilson's farm; and a bit of very ugly, narrow road, as runs through it. Peter had got a little a-head of us, while Jack and I was almost close together. Peter was a bawling out the old song of "Oh! 'twas my delight of a shiny night;" and had just come to the end of the sixth verse, when a man on foot, laid hold of his bridle, and civilly told him to stop.

"I'll be d- if I do, though!" Peter sung out, and snapped his pistol at the fellow's head: it hung fire, and we found ourselves surrounded by seven or eight men, well armed. There was no mistake in this: here was Brady's mob, sure enough, and I already felt my pocket eased of our money. Before we knew well what to do, the man, who stopped Peter's horse came up to me, when I saw he was the same person that had paid the bet at Will Preston's! He said, very civilly-"I am sorry to trouble you, Sir, for that ere swag, as you have got; but I shall feel obliged, if you'll hand it over to me."

"I was beginning to make a fuss about the business, when the young man, who, I afterwards found, was Brady himself, just said "Now, don't bother: you v'e got the swag-and the swag we'll have; so-fork out!"

"All this time Master Brady held a pistol to my ears--and, as I found it was of no use to stand palavering about the matter. I heaved out my bag of cash, and gave it to the Bushranger? “How much be there here?" he asked, as he weighed the bag over and over in his hand. "About two hundred pounds," was my answer. "The Devil!" said he. Is it all your own?" "Indeed it is notfor- "I dont want to know who else it belongs to: but tell me your share of it." "About eighty pounds," said L. "Well, then," said he, "give me a hundred and fifty, and keep the rest for your wife and children-Mum," he continued-" Not a word!

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fork out the blunt! and remember, that Brady, the Bushranger, knows, sometimes, how to be generous." I counted out the money demanded-put the remainder in my pocket; and putting on the most serious face I could, wished Brady and his comrades " good night," and rode on with my cowed companions to Edward Wilson's farm. Peter Bumpus was silent about the Bushrangers, and Jack Snodgrass said nothing. The next day, we heard that "Brady and his gang" had robbed three stock-keepers' huts in that very neighbourhood, and taken away a very considerable swag."

The above narrative is founded upon an anecdote of Brady, which I heard of, at a small settler's at Pittwater As a sequel, I have ventured to subjoin another anecdote of this Bushranger, which I transcribe in the very words of the narrator: it will afford a forcible and most characteristic illustration of this bold man's character:

Shortly after escaping from Macquarie Harbour, Brady and his gang robbed several persons. The whole of the booty he so obtained, invariably went to a person named Kenton, a confederate of the banditti. Some time afterwards, Brady was by some means taken alone near Jericho; he was placed in a hut under the charge of Kenton, who was also a constable, while the party who apprehended him, went in pursuit of his associates. Kenton and Brady were therefore the only inmates of the hut, the former being placed over him with a loaded musket, and the latter having his hands fastened round the wrists with a handkerchief. Brady entreated Kenton to liberate him, which he was urged to solicit, from the circumstance of Kenton having reaped all the benefit of the plunder. Kenton refused, alleging as his reason, that Brady was too good a man to let go. To this negative answer, Brady made no remonstrance, but remained silent. The weather being cold, he however requested Kenton to throw a kangaroo rug over his head, with which he complied. Soon afterwards, he asked for a drink of water; while Kenton was in the act of stooping for it, Brady (who had previously unfastened his hands with his teeth, his head being under the rug,) immediately seized the opportunity, and gave Kenton a blow on the side of the head, which brought him to the ground. Brady, having gained the musket, said he would have then instantaneously shot Kenton for his treachery, but for fear of the report being heard by the military, who were not far distant. Brady told Kenton, that he should, however, remember him. And so he did; for the first time he again saw him, although a period of nearly two years had elapsed, he shot Kenton instantly through the heart, without even giving him a moment to prepare for so sudden a death. It will, no doubt, be in the recollection of many of our readers, that during the whole time Brady remained in the bush, till he went over to Port Dalrymple, where the above transaction took place, he had never been reported or known to have imbrued his hands in blood. This appears no less remarkable than extraordinary. Brady was at the head of the banditti,

in all its stages. Nearly twenty of the gang have from time to time been executed, and near twelve unfortunate persons have lost their lives in pursuit of the banditti, besides many who have been slightly and severely wounded. Yet, during all this time, Brady was never known to commit the crime of murder until that of Kenton's; after this, the banditti wantonly set fire to several stacks of wheat, wool, and buildings, belonging to a gentleman at the other side of the Island. The gang was then instantly separated, and all taken or shot, but one. Upon Brady's examination before a magistrate, he asserted that he did not conceive in his heart, that he was guilty of murder, in shooting Kenton, alleging as his reason, that he conceived he was justified in doing so, from Kenton having betrayed him. Among the numerous remarkable instances in the conduct of Brady, his general behaviour to the female sex, whenever his banditti plundered, obtained for him the good-will of every candid-minded person. He would not even suffer any female to be exposed, much less injured, by any of his men. It was reported that Brady had cut off the ears of the servant of Messrs. Stynes and Troy-He did not do it; Dunne was the cowardly perpetrator.

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