nious duty, I think, to shoot and harass the blacks in
the manner the police do," persisted Kate. "When the brig _Maria_ was
lost here on the coast some years ago, and some of the crew killed by
the blacks, the Government acted most cruelly. The Native Police not
only shot the actual murderers, but ruthlessly wiped out whole camps of
tribes that were hundreds of miles away from where the vessel was lost."

Gerrard nodded. "So I heard. But I can assure you, Miss Fraser, that
the Native Police under men like Aulain, can, and do, good service.
The blacks in this part of the colony are bad enough, but on Cape York
Peninsula, they are worse--daring and ferocious cannibals. The instinct
to slay all strangers is inborn with them. Some of the tribes on the
Batavia River district I believe to be absolutely untamable."

"Would _you_ shoot a black-fellow, Mr Gerrard, for spearing a horse or
bullock?"

"No, certainly not! But you see, Miss Fraser, we squatters would not
mind them killing a beast or two for food occasionally, but they will
spear perhaps thirty or forty, and so terrify a large mob of cattle that
they will seek refuge in the ranges, and eventually become so wild as to
be irrecoverable. I can put down my losses alone from this cause at over
a thousand head. Then, again, two of my stockmen were killed and
eaten three years ago; and this necessitated inflicting a very severe
punishment."

The girl sighed, but said no more on the subject.

"You will stay with us to-night, will you not, Mr Gerrard?" she said as
Forde returned. "It will be so pleasant for father and me to have both
Mr Forde and you with us for the night."

"Thank you, I will, with pleasure. Perhaps your father--and you
too--will come on to, Kaburie with me in the morning, show me the ropes,
and tell me something about the country. And then you can see how the
garden looks as well."

Kate's eyes brightened. "Indeed, we will I I love Kaburie. When we heard
that it was to be sold, father tried to lease it from poor Mrs Tallis,
but she wanted to sell outright, so father has to keep 'pegging away'
at the claim, and our old rattle-trap of a crushing mill. But some day,
perhaps, we shall 'strike it rich' as the miners say."

The horses were again saddled, and the party set out on their way,
riding single file along the narrow bush track towards the ranges in
which the little mining camp was situated. The sun was well towards
the west when they came in sig