INTRODUCTORY. Near the end of February 1857, I think about the 20th or so, though it don't much matter; I only know it was near the latter end of summer, burning hot, with the bushfires raging like volcanoes on the ranges, and the river reduced to a slender stream of water, almost lost upon the broad white flats of quartz shingle. It was the end of February, I said, when Major Buckley, Captain... more...

CHAPTER I. FIRST THOUGHTS OF GOING TO AUSTRALIA.—DEPARTURE FROM CALIFORNIA.—LIFE ON BOARD SHIP.—ARRIVAL AT WILLIAMS TOWN.—DESCRIPTION OF MELBOURNE.—A CONVICT'S HUT. It was as hot an afternoon on the banks of the American Fork as ever poor mortals could be subjected to and still retain sufficient vitality to draw their breath. Under a small tent, stretched upon their backs, with shirt... more...

CHAPTER I. THE PRESBYTERY. Grey Town looks down on the river and the ocean, its streets climbing up the small hill upon which the town has been built. It is a pleasant place in which to live, where, in winter, the air is warm, and in summer a cool breeze from the ocean tempers the hottest day. At the feet of the town the ocean beats restlessly on the narrow strip of beach that fringes the shore. On the... more...

PROLOGUE. On the evening of May 3, 1827, the garden of a large red-brick bow-windowed mansion called North End House, which, enclosed in spacious grounds, stands on the eastern height of Hampstead Heath, between Finchley Road and the Chestnut Avenue, was the scene of a domestic tragedy. Three persons were the actors in it. One was an old man, whose white hair and wrinkled face gave token that he was at... more...

NORAH'S HOME The grey old dwelling, rambling and wide,With the homestead paddocks on either side,And the deep verandahs and porches tallWhere the vine climbs high on the trellised wall.G. ESSEX EVANS. Billabong homestead lay calm and peaceful in the slanting rays of the sum that crept down the western sky. The red roofs were half hidden in the surrounding trees—pine and box and mighty blue gums... more...

Last day at home—Join the “Heroine” as a midshipman—Bound for the Pacific—Ordered to touch at Cape Coast Castle—On the look-out for a pirate—Chase her up a river—Our boat attacked—Dicky Popo brings us information—Fight with the pirates—A capture—A schooner blows up—Deliver up our prize to the Commodore—Proceed on our voyage. The last day of my home-life came to an end.... more...

CHAPTER I. WEST COAST OF AFRICA—ADVENTURE IN THE SOUTH ATLANTIC OCEAN. “We don’t want to stay long in this place.” “I don’t think we do, sir,” was the reply. “The sooner we leave it, the better.” “That is so,” said Harry; “I quite agree with you. I wonder how white men manage to live here at all.” This conversation occurred at Bonny, a trading station on one of the mouths of... more...

It has come, it has come, it has come! Oh, do be quick, father!" The cry rang out lustily from three young voices, three eager heads were thrust over the veranda railings. Below, on horseback, was a big, brown-haired, brown-bearded man, who looked up from under his soft slouch hat with a laugh, and exclaimed,— "What has come, you outrageously noisy youngsters? One would think I had a family... more...

I. THE GLUG QUEST Follow the river and cross the ford,Follow again to the wobbly bridge,Turn to the left at the notice board,Climbing the cow-track over the ridge;Tip-toe soft by the little red house,Hold your breath if they touch the latch,Creep to the slip-rails, still as a mouse,Then . . . run like mad for the bracken patch. Worm your way where the fern fronds tallFashion a lace-work over your... more...

SOMEWHAT CONTAGIOUS It is October and the mountains are waking from their short winter sleep. It is October, the month of the moving mists. Come and let us take a walk, not down Fleet Street with Dr. Johnson, but up a mountain side with Nature,—nay, with God Himself. There is nothing to see, absolutely nothing at all. You know that there are trees on either hand of you, and that the undergrowth is... more...