They had a couple of rounds, and a "knock-down" gave the Scotchman the worst of it. Martin, who (with his wife) was a servant at the inn, was passing at the time, and told the prisoner he was a coward for knocking the youngster down; but before a quarrel could possibly commence Martin's wife forced her husband away. This happened shortly after noon, and matters were quiet until about 6 p.m., when Martin was sitting in the kitchen reading a book. The prisoner and Cameron suddenly entered, and the former, without saying a word, struck Martin on the head with a poker. Martin cried "Oh!" and, turning to look round, the prisoner repeated the blow with such effect that Martin fell in a heap on the floor. An alarm was raised, and Connell attempted to get away, but was overpowered by some men who were drinking in the house, and who would have lynched him on the spot but for the barman. Martin was removed to his bed, from which he never rose. The prisoner, who was without Counsel, alleged intoxication and excitement as his defence. The jury found him "Guilty," and Judge A'Beckett, in a feeling and eloquent address, passed the extreme sentence of the law. The prisoner heard his doom with a calm indifference, and walked out of the dock the least affected person in a densely-crowded Court.
Murder of Mr. Beveridge by Blacks.—25th February, 1847.
One day towards the end of August, 1846, Melbourne was shocked by the intelligence that Mr. Andrew Beveridge, jun., a settler on the Lower Murray, had been murdered in cold blood by three aborigines, to several of whom he had shown many acts of kindness. For some time it was doubtful whether any effective attempt could be made to capture the murderers; but it was done, nevertheless, bravely and skilfully by Corporal William Johnston, of the Western Port Border Police, and troopers Dollard and Farrell. They were patrolling at the Murray on the 30th October; and obtained from Mr. Brierly, overseer for Captain Coghill, a description of the desperadoes. Johnston was well acquainted with the country surrounding the Beveridge Station, as well as with a few friendly natives of the neighbouring tribes. Some of these he sought, and arrived at the conviction that the criminals were three ferocious savages of great muscular power, who went under the respective designations of "Ptolemy," "Booby," and "Bullet-Eye." They were personages of recognized power and influence amongst the most formidable tribes on the Murray, and it occurred to Johnston that success would be owing to stratagem rather than to open force. To do something, however, he made up his mind; and this is how he performed a feat in the capture of the desperadoes, which, for adroitness, pluck and gallantry, has never been equalled, or even approached, in all the raids ever made after bushrangers or murderers in the colony.
Doffing their troopers' trappings and apparel, the three men procured changes of the regular bush toggery at a settler's, and were speedily transformed into thorough bush hands, with humped swags, and forth they went as if the most veritable cadging pilgrims that ever wandered along a "wallaby track " TWo or three friendly natives proved trusty and valuable allies, and through their means it was ascertained that the trio so much in request were then with a large party of blacks sojourning on the opposite side of the river. It was an axiom of Johnston's fortified by a bush experience of several years, that there was no more effectual mode of circumventing a blackfellow, of inveigling him into the cobweb of the "White Spider," than through the stomach, and he accordingly caused it to be given out by the friendly natives that the "wallaby trackers" would, on a certain evening, treat all the blacks that might cross the river to a big feast of "bubble-bubble" — a mess of flour,sugar and water, to which, in the early days of colonization, the Port Phillipian Aborigines were even more partial than to the squatters' rum or beef. The invitation was accepted; and Johnston procured a quantity of ingredients for the feast, among them being three choice pieces of rope not likely to give at the first pull. Johnston and his comrades were well armed, and had plenty of ammunition stowed away in a bark hut not far off, which they had made their headquarters. The three pieces of rope were looped into a kind of short lasso, to be worked at close quarters, and each man was supplied with one, which he was to secrete in his jumper. It was further arranged that if the three murderers (who by this time, from the full descriptions obtained, could be easily identified) put in an appearance, a trooper should contrive to stand behind each of them at the feed, with rope ready, and when Johnston sung out the word "Three," to fly the lasso over his head, and, so noosed, each trooper should stick to his game, and for what followed depend on the chapter of accidents. Two shepherds, borrowed
