t St. Patrick's Plains, beyond the Great Lake
(1826). At a distance it resembled a gigantic fallen tree, and in its
centre and side were doors, from which the whole plain could be surveyed
and surprise prevented.

The Governor denounced the miserable fear of personal danger--certainly
more natural in the bush than the council chamber. Doubtless many, equal
to the bravery of an actual conflict, preferred to pay black mail to
robbers, rather than risk their sudden inroads and secret vengeance. Nor
was it at all certain that a marauder, when captured, would be detained:
some broke from their prisons; from Launceston, a band together, who
renewed their pillage with increasing diligence. Among others, they
attacked the house of Mr. Harrison, and maintained a fire which riddled
his premises. These men attempted to fortify themselves by erecting
stone fences on the peak of a hill at the Macquarie: there they were
surprised and taken. The insecurity of the prisons, and the mode of
disposing of respited offenders, made it not unlikely that an officious
witness would be called to a future account: thus an old man, who
prosecuted a burglar, was visited by the culprit when he returned from
Macquarie Harbour; violently beaten, robbed, and threatened with death.

To distinguish these men was no slight difficulty: they often pretended
to be constables, and were in possession before the error was
discovered. One, still more serious, sometimes happened: thus two
constables saw two armed men enter a hut, and approaching challenged
them; answer not being promptly given, they fired, and severely wounded
both the astonished policemen. Nor were the settlers exempt from such
perils. The bushrangers, often well dressed and mounted, made every
traveller an object of suspicion: when riding over the Cross Marsh, Mr.
Hodgson was challenged by the military stationed there; his motions of
recognition they understood as defiance, and fired. To his remonstrances
they answered with insolence, and expressed a wish that the shot had
proved fatal. On a prosecution the rash soldier was acquitted, no malice
being presumed (1826); and the attack was deemed a contingency of
colonial life.

Among those whose crimes obtained them the greater notoriety, were
Brady, M'Cabe, Jeffries, and Dunne: well mounted upon horses, and armed
with muskets, they scoured the colony: murder, pillage, and arson,
rendered every homestead the scene of terror and dismay. Those set