By this Paper you will perceive that Ten Individuals whose names are specified in a List also enclosed, presented themselves on the 9th of March last at Valdivia in this Republic stating themselves to have been shipwrecked on the coast of Chile—that the truth of this Account appearing to be liable to doubt, a further Examination into the Circumstances was entered into, the result of which was a declaration of their having absconded from a Port in Van Diemen’s Land, thereby withdrawing themselves from the Performance of the Sentence to which they had been sentenced with the Addition of the Committal of an Act which it would seem can only be characterized by the Term of Piracy.

The Circumstances as stated by them appear so contradictory in many Parts and indeed the Confession of the serious Crimes which they profess to have Committed renders their History so improbable that it is scarce possible to attach credit to it.

LIEUTENANT GOVERNOR ARTHUR’S MINUTE UPON RECEIVING THE LETTER

October 31st, 1834

Prepare an answer setting forth all the particulars of the case, with the offences for wh. these Convicts were transported, & adding, of course, that their last act was one of piracy & express my anxious desire that they may be sent back to this Colony & add that as soon as a Vessel of War arrives I shall request the Officer in command of Her to proceed to Valparaiso. Let me see your letter as soon as it is prepared—one copy may be sent to Sydney, another to Rio by the earliest oppty.

Book X

BOOK X

HIGH IN THE GREAT WESTERN TIERS, THREE RIDERS

They stood their horses inside a stand of snow gums. They could see the timber hut just ahead, sheltered in the lee of a small rise that curved out across the plain to the northwest. No smoke in the chimney pipe. The wind had picked up and it was starting to rain, and there were fat snowflakes whipping around in it, too. The trees were sleet wet from the night before, and the trunks gleamed blue-grey and gold, pink where the bark had peeled away.

It was 6 March 1915.

Gabriel Tait shifted in the saddle. It had been a hard slog through densely wooded valleys and up steep mountain banks, and the horse didn’t like him. The feeling was mutual. At one point the crazy animal had bolted along a ridge for no reason anybody could give him, a sheer drop to certain death only inches from its sparking shoes. He’d climbed off when it finally stopped, cursing the beast.

‘You ain’t much of a rider,’ Wilson O’Farrell had said.

‘He’s all right,’ his brother Joseph said. He smiled at Gabriel Tait. ‘Don’t worry, mate. Nearly there.’