The Black Police: A Story of Modern Australia

“Boot and saddle, see the slanting Rays begin to fall, Flinging lights and colours flaunting Through the shadows tall. Onward! onward! must we travel? When will come the goal Ri...

“I had always heard the Indian (North American) spoken of as a revengeful, bloodthirsty man. To find him a man capable of feelings and affections, with a heart open to the wants...

On board the swift coastal steamer _Eidermere_, as she cuts through the tepid waters of the Molle passage with her knife-like stem, on her way to the northern Queensland ports....

Next morning, when Claude wandered into the supper-room of the previous night, he found a couple of fat, comely young native women, in short, light-coloured frocks, relaying the...

Sixty miles in a southerly direction from the place where Inspector Puttis met with the adventure related in our last chapter, the figure of a man is reposing beside a silent ro...

It is a blazing winter day in Northern Queensland; a morning when it is quite a pleasure to turn one’s eyes from the sun-scorched, shadowless “open country” outside to the cool,...

It is an hour after sundown at Murdaro station. A few lights twinkle here and there about the dusky quadrangle of low-roofed buildings, ere shadow and silence bring to a close a...

Our next act in the drama before us begins with the foot-lights still turned down low, for another night scene is to be enacted. It is the new township of Ulysses. Some six or s...

The firm of Messrs. Winze and Clinskeen, Mining and Stock Agents, of Pitt Street, Sydney, is known as well, if not better, in “outside” wilds as even in Sydney. The establishmen...

“Ye to whose sovereign hands the Fates confide Of this fair land the reins,— This land for which no pity wrings your breast,— Why does the stranger’s sword her plains invest, Th...

Inspector Puttis, N.M.P., is pacing the verandah of Borbong head-station house. The hour is early, and although the active little man was one of the liveliest of last night’s pa...

“It was there he fell, boss. He struck right on top of them gibbers (stones). I caught at him, and fell too,—there’s the mark where I struck the mud by the broken stem of that c...

Our fourth chapter left our hero, like Mahommed’s coffin, “twixt earth and heaven.” Luckily, however, for our story, if not for Claude, Providence dipped her umpire’s flag, afte...

“We have at various times had stories told us of the treatment the blacks are subjected to in the bush, and it behoves the Government to make strict inquiry into the whole quest...

It is much later than Claude’s usual hour for rising when he opens his eyes upon the morning following his midnight interview with Miss Giles. And he remains in a sort of half-d...

The newly-arrived traveller in Sydney is generally pestered by the urbane and well-meaning citizens of that London of the South by three or more questions. Until he has answered...

“Dear Dick,—I have at last a few hours to myself, during which I can sit down quietly, here in my room, which overlooks the Botanical Gardens and ‘our beautiful harbour,’ and wr...

It is about eight o’clock P.M., at Borbong head-station, which lies at some fifty miles’ distance from Murdaro, and the evening meal being over, half-a-dozen men are settling do...

In a long, ceilingless room, half kitchen and half parlour, two figures are seated near an enormous fireplace, in which a glowing heap of wood ashes illuminates that end of the...

Taking advantage of the storm whose parting fusillade has left Claude _hors de combat_ for the time being, Manager Browne’s “rounding-up” party, under the skilful generalship of...

that coarse kind of grass that grows in the open spaces in the scrub called “pockets” by northern bushmen. These “pockets” are treeless spots circular in form, and generally hal...

Outside on the verandah a happy couple are sitting enjoying the hay-scented night wind as it blows in gentle gusts up the valley. Dick and Mollie are in that delightfully idioti...

“Star! Ev-en’ Star! Full account o’ the fi-re!” echoes shrilly on all sides from the throats of bare-legged, paper-laden urchins, who after the manner of their kind are actively...