Robbery Under Arms
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第60章

John Dawson, sworn: Was head stockman and cattle manager at Momberah;knew the back country, and in a general way the cattle running there;was not out much in the winter; the ground was boggy, and the cattle were hardly ever mustered till spring; when he did go, with some other stock-riders, he saw at once that a large number of the Momberah cattle, branded HOD and other brands, were missing; went to Adelaide a few months after; saw a large number of cattle of the HOD brand, which he was told had been sold by the prisoner now before the court, and known as Starlight, and others, to certain farmers;he could swear that the cattle he saw bore Mr.Hood's brand;could not swear that he recognised them as having been at Momberah in his charge; believed so, but could not swear it; he had seen a short-horn bull outside of the court this morning; he last saw the said bull at the station of Messrs.Fordham Brothers, near Adelaide;they made a communication to him concerning the bull; he would and could swear to the identity of the animal with the Fifteenth Duke of Cambridge, an imported short-horn bull, the property of Mr.Hood;had seen him before that at Momberah; knew that Mr.Hood had bought said bull in Sydney, and was at Momberah when he was sent up;could not possibly be mistaken; when he saw the bull at Momberah, nine months since, he had a small brand like H on the shoulder;Mr.Hood put it on in witness's presence; it was a horse-brand, now it resembled J-E; the brand had been `faked' or cleverly altered;witness could see the original brand quite plain underneath;as far as he knew Mr.Hood never sold or gave any one authority to take the animal; he had missed him some months since, and always believed he had strayed; knew the bull to be a valuable animal, worth several hundred pounds.

We had one bit of luck in having to be tried in an out-of-the-way place like Nomah.It was a regular outside bush township, and though the distance oughtn't to have much to say to people's honesty, you'll mostly find that these far-out back-of-beyond places have got men and women to match 'em.

Except the squatters and overseers, the other people's mostly a shady lot.

Some's run away from places that were too hot to hold 'em.

The women ain't the men's wives that they live with, but somebody else's --who's well rid of 'em too if all was known.There's most likely a bit of horse and cattle stealing done on the quiet, and the publicans and storekeepers know who are their best customers, the square people or the cross ones.It ain't so easy to get a regular up-and-down straight-ahead jury in a place of this sort.

So Starlight and I knew that our chance was a lot better than if we'd been tried at Bargo or Dutton Forest, or any steady-going places of that sort.

If we'd made up our minds from the first that we were to get into it it wouldn't have been so bad; we'd have known we had to bear it.

Now we might get out of it, and what a thing it would be to feel free again, and walk about in the sun without any one having the right to stop you.

Almost, that is -- there were other things against us;but there wasn't so much of a chance of their turning up.

This was the great stake.If we won we were as good as made.

I felt ready to swear I'd go home and never touch a shilling that didn't come honest again.If we lost it seemed as if everything was so much the worse, and blacker than it looked at first, just for this bit of hope and comfort.

After the bull had been sworn to by Mr.Hood and another witness, they brought up some more evidence, as they called it, about the other cattle we had sold in Adelaide.They had fetched some of the farmers up that had been at the sale.They swore straight enough to having bought cattle with certain brands from Starlight.They didn't know, of course, at the time whose they were, but they could describe the brands fast enough.There was one fellow that couldn't read nor write, but he remembered all the brands, about a dozen, in the pen of steers he bought, and described them one by one.

One brand, he said, was like a long-handled shovel.It turned out to be --D.*TD -- Tom Dawson's, of Mungeree.About a hundred of his were in the mob.