Ten months afterwards Jack Shay arrived at the port. He had first
come to Twofold Bay from Van Diemen's Land, and nothing was known
about his former life. "That's nothing to nobody," he said. He was
a bushman, rough and weather-beaten, with only one peculiarity. The
quart pot which he slung to his belt would hold half a gallon of tea,
while other pots only held a quart, and that was the reason why he
was known all the way from Monaroo to Adelaide as "Jack of the Quart
Pot."
He had arrived rather late on the previous evening, and this morning,
as he sat on a log contemplating the scenery, his first conclusion
was that the port was not flourishing. There was not a ship within
sight. The mouth of the Albert River was visible on his right, and
the inlet was spread out before him shining in the morning sun.
About a mile away on the western shore was One Tree Hill. Towards
the south were mud banks and mangrove islands, through which the
channel zigzagged like a figure of eight, and then the view was
closed by the scrub on Sunday Island. There was a boat at anchor in
the channel about a mile distant, in which two men were fishing for
their breakfast, for there was famine in the settlement, and the few
pioneers left in it were kept alive on a diet of roast flathead. On
the beach three boats were drawn up out of reach of the tide, and
looking behind him Jack counted twelve huts and one store of
wattle-and-dab.
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