and entreaty I did not attempt, so in the morning we parted, I shall mention him again by-and-bye. He was a small, very handsome, light-complexioned, very intelligent, but childish boy, and was frequently mistaken for a half-caste; he was a splendid rider and tracker, and knew almost everything. He was a great wit, as one remark of his will show. In travelling up the country after he had been at school, we once saw some old deserted native gunyahs, and he said to me as we rode by, pointing to them, “Gentleman's ‘ouse, villa residence, I spose, he’s gone to his watering place for the season p'raps.” At another time, being at a place called Crowlands, he asked me why it was called so. I replied, pointing to a crow on a tree, ‘ Why, there’s the crow,” and stamping with my foot on the ground, “there's the land;” he immediately said, “Oh, now I know why my country is called Queensland, because it’s land belonging to our Queen.” I said, ‘Certainly it is;” then he said, “ Well, ain’t it funny? I never knew that before.” In Melbourne, one day, we were leaning out of a window overlooking the people continually passing by. Dick said, “ What for, — white fellow always walk about—walk about in town——when he always rides in the bush ?” I said, “Oh, to do their business.” “ Business,” he asked, "what's that?” I said, “Why, to get money, to be sure.” "Money,” he said; "white fellow can’t pick up money in the street.”
From the Peake we had only pack-horses and one little Scotch terrier dog. Dick left us at Hann’s Creek, thirty miles from the Peake. On our road up, about halfway between the Peake and
