As he approached the hut, he heard the screams of
women and the voice of a blackfellow, who was hammering on the door
with his waddy. He was a tame blackfellow who had been educated at
the Missionary Station. He could write English, say prayers, sing
hymns, read the Bible, and was therefore named Parson Bedford by the
Derviners, after the Tasmanian Missionary. He could box and wrestle
so well that few white men could throw him. He could also drink rum;
so whenever he got any white money he knew how to spend it. He was
the best thief and the worst bully of all the blacks about Nyalong,
because he had been so well educated. I knew him well, and attended
his funeral, walking in the procession with the doctor and twenty
blackfellows. He had a white man's funeral, but there was no live
parson present, so king Coco Quine made an oration, waving his hands
over the coffin, "All same as whitefellow parson," then we all threw
clods on the lid.
So much noise was made by the women screaming and the Parson
hammering, that the stockman was able to launch one crack of his
stock-whip on the Parson's back before his arrival was observed. The
Parson sprang up into the air like a shot deer, and then took to his
heels. He did not run towards the open plains, but made a straight
line for the nearest part of the Rises. As he ran, Frank followed at
an easy canter, and over and over again he landed his lash with a
crack like a pistol on the behind of the black, who sprang among the
rough rocks which the horse could not cross, and where the lash could
not reach him.
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