Page:Feilberg.djvu/53

Rh with a police officer in the discharge of his duty. I ask is his English law, the law we boast of? It is surprising that so many should take up their pens to encourage such bloody and cowardly deeds; but I am disposed to think the defenders are men one and all in the Native Police service to-day. From what has come within my own knowledge I am satisfied that the articles you have published referring to the atrocities committed are correct.

I will now mention a few outrages that have occurred in this district as a sample:—A few years ago I was travelling with a friend from the South Cook to Cardwell. We camped a night with two men that were employed repairing a washpool, sheep yards, &c., near Glendhu station. They informed us that a quiet mob of blacks had been camping for a week or two on the public roadside, about half a mile from said washpool, that they had often been in the camp, and were always treated kindly by the blacks; on one occasion they turned out of their camp in order to give one of these men shelter during a heavy shower of rain. A couple of evenings before we arrived the native Police came round, and in the dusk of the evening took observations of the camp, then went to the head station, returned again during the night, and at daydawn next morning opened fire upon the blacks, killing six or seven men. After hearing this tale we went to see what truth there was in the statement, and solemnly I declare I saw the dead bodies of three men not more than 200 yards from the public road; they were lying in a heap, and a few bushes thrown on top of then. At a later date, on the same road, there was a Government road party at work; they allowed the blacks to visit them and camp close by, but for some reasons best known to themselves they got afraid and sent for the police. A watch was kept for their arrival, and when close at hand, the blacks, twelve or thirteen in number, were invited into the hut, there surrounded, and dispersed in the usual way.

I will now pass over some fifty miles of blood-stained country, the blood barely dry, in order to bring another uncalled-for cowardly murder before public notice. In 1876 a Native Police officer went to patrol the Waterview run. He wended his way round to a quiet blacks' camp not far from the head station; the boys that occupied the camp were by name Tommy, Charley, and Billy, with their wives, all well known to the writer. They had arrived that day from Gairloch on which plantation they had been employed. Fearing no injury from men they knew, and who appeared to be friends, officer, troopers, and blacks camped together. There was another white man there also, who I know will not deny the fact. The evening passed away with a corroboree; all went well during the night. The morning came, all partook of breakfast, then the horses were saddled. The next order was to "disperse" the three boys. The troopers stood amazed and refused. Orders were again given to fire. This time they obeyed, and Tommy and Charley fell dead on the ground; Billy carried his bullets (three) some little distance and there succumbed. Two of the gins were taken by the police to the Herbert River, where one of them, "Kitty," can be seen to-day at the telegraph office. She can relate this dreadful tale in the English language, and could have done so the day it occurred, so you will observe they were not myalls. There were two boys carried away at sane time, one of whom was made a present of to a drover to go to the Palmer country. As I have entered on this subject I will mention another case of barbarity. A few months ago a detachment of police were in Cardwell; the officer in charge returned to barracks overland, and sent the troopers by boat viâ Dungeness. When they arrived a that port, a resident there in the Government employ sent them out after the blacks to abuse and murder any unfortunate aboriginal they might fall across. Like beagles let loose, they ran down the coast for miles, until at last found a camp in which there was a poor old man, by appearance over 60 years of age, unable to get out of their way. He lay down with his face on the ground, a trooper named Bromby stepped up to him and put a bullet through his head. I knew the old man well; I knew him to be as harmless as a child; I have seen him weeping over his daughter's grave. She was murdered by an ex-trooper named Simon, and was buried here on my selection. Five years ago he gave me his son, and ever after he made my place a kind of home. As a resident in the immediate neighborhood of where the above outrages were perpetrated, I conscientiously believe that one and all of the victims were wantonly murdered, and on each occasion by orders of a different officer or individual. Under such a state of things as I have shown to be prevalent, I ask the enlightened public is it possible for a friendly feeling to exist between the two races? Our legislators go to a great amount of trouble in making laws and regulations for the protection of Polynesians; why not give the first owners of this continent the same consideration? They are equally good men in many ways. I have never found them ungrateful to any person who