"you are a boy after my own heart, that fears neither saint nor devil!"

"You are pleased to compliment, me, Signor," replied our host smiling; for the wildness of his manner had now subsided.

"Not in the least. An Irishman not often does so.

"Then you are an Irishman?" observed the monk.

"I am,

Father."

"And a Catholic?'

"Also."

"Benedetto, figlio mio!" rejoined Father Antonio, rising and embracing O'Shanlon.

"Come, Signors, fill your glasses.

Here's a brindisi to the brave

Irish!" continued the monk, as he resumed his seat.

"To the brave Irish!" repeated Fra Diavolo.

The last rays of the setting sun now throwing its beams into the rooms, reminded me that it was time to depart. Expressing my regret to our host at being obliged to leave him, he insisted on accompanying us part of the way, as did likewise Father Antonio.

The evening was more than usually beautiful. The setting of the king of day was quickly followed by the rising of the queen of night in all her splendour, and beneath her soft influence we pursued our way. Fra Diavolo and I walked together, followed by the monk and O'Shanlon; the former delighted to have found a Catholic in my friend.

What a lovely night! The moon, waxing near her full, poured a tide of golden light over the extent of green leaves and boughs spread everywhere before our eyes. All was still and silent, and full of calm and tranquil brightness. Not a sound, not a motion was perceptible, save the slow gliding of the queen of night up the arch of heaven, and the glittering fire-flies, like ambulating stars, wandering in magic pastime around us, and through the mazes of the forest. As we journeyed along each of us seemed to feel the soft influence of the enchanting night and climate; and it was some time before the silence that reigned around us was broken by Fra Diavolo, who began recounting various and stirring incidents of his extraordinary and wayward life. Thus did he beguile the time till the fires of our bivouac appeared in view. I then reluctantly requested him and the monk to proceed no further; but still they would go onwards, and it was not before frequent and earnest solicitations, from both O'Shanlon and myself, added to a faithful promise to repeat our visit, that Fra Diavolo and the monk acceded to our request. Bidding us a happy night, they at length left us, and in a short time we reached our huts; when a sound sleep soon closed the adventures of A Day in Calabria.

AN ENCOUNTER WITH BUSH-RANGERS IN VAN DIEMEN'S LAND.

BY AN OFFICER.

SCARCELY any country possesses an appearance more peculiarly its own, than Van Diemen's Land; it may indeed be considered totally dissimilar from any other known region. In every direction the eye wanders over interminable ranges of woody elevations, rising occasionally to a great height, but more generally constituting tiers or masses of hills, apparently thrown together without regularity or design; a detached or conical hill being but seldom observed. Amongst the former are valleys, which, though they expand in some parts of the island until of some width, are oftener narrow, and only a few miles in length. The principal exception is that between the eastern and western tiers, which is about sixty miles long, and twenty in its extreme breadth. Gullies, as might be expected, are numerous; nor are they so termed without reason, the abruptly-formed ravine occurring less frequently than in countries whose features approach the alpine, where torrents caused by the melting of vast accummulations of ice or snow, have worked for themselves channels many hundred feet in depth. Some of these gullies are nevertheless sufficiently profound, extremely rugged, and rendered almost impervious by "a scrub," consisting of trees indigenous to these colonies alone.

To the northward are several lakes, of a magnitude sufficient to constitute a somewhat important feature in the landscape; while around Campbell Town are downs many miles across, almost clear of trees, and once the resort of emus; but these fine birds have long since retired to more secluded spots, and are now almost extinct in the island.

The disproportion of land adapted for cultivation, compared with that which is not, is very considerable; at the same time the first not unfrequently affords more pasturage than an unobservant traveller would be led to suppose. Still there is an immense extent which never can become available to man for any purpose whatever.

Tasmania can boast of few rivers, except after heavy or longcontinued rains; those streams so called being commonly dried up altogether, or forming a succession of water-holes; and springs are met with in very few places throughout the colony. Even the attempts to obtain good water have been, in most instances, so unsuccessful, as to render persons cautious how they incur the expense of sinking wells. It may be remarked, that nearly all the elevations are rounded, or flattened, at the summits.

With this slight sketch of the general aspect of this singular island, I shall now proceed to detail the particulars of our pursuit and capture of four Bush-rangers.

In the month of April, 1838, it became known that three convicts, named Palmer, Regan, and Atterell, were at large; and having obtained arms, had committed a series of depredations upon the settlers. One of their first exploits was an attack upon a public-house, where they made prisoners several men, whose hands they tied, and then compelled them to drink a quantity of wine and spirits. A man, named Morley, became partially intoxicated, and having exasperated one of the banditti by

comments upon his conduct, the ruffian shot him dead. From thence they proceeded to one of the largest establishments in the colony, taking with them certain of their prisoners to carry the plunder, &c. Not far from the house were five of the farm servants at work in a field, who were ordered to lie down, but they refused, and two of them ran off to alarm the inmates, receiving on their way, though fortunately without effect, several shots from their opponents. Regan then advanced to the front of the building, and demanded that the door should be opened; while Palmer (who shot Morley, and was the leader of the band), went round a corner to reconnoitre. The latter had no sooner shown himself, than a shot from a window laid him prostrate; upon which Atterell went up to the body, took the arms, and with Regan, who then became the leader, quitted the premises.

When it is borne in mind that all this took place in the day-time, with no less than sixteen men on or about the premises, the coolness and daring of this small band may be readily conceived.

The robbers were pursued, but, through some mismanagement, suffered to escape.

The boldness of this attempt created not only a powerful sensation, but universal alarm; and the circumstance of Regan and his remaining comrade having with them a number of "pressed men," gave rise to reports which induced a belief that the band consisted of ten or twelve, instead of two.

Regan was afterwards joined by Banks, a fine youth born in the colony, and Davis, who had been a sailor; and having first visited three other residences, from which they took whatever plunder they thought useful, they proceeded to a public-house five miles from Richmond, where they paid for the wine drank by themselves and their prisoners, but not for the provisions they carried off.

Previous to entering the house, they forced in six or eight men whom they had secured on their way, and afterwards tied seven more, who were in different rooms. The motive for thus thrusting in their prisoners before them, was obviously for the purpose of protecting themselves in case of the people within being prepared, as the sudden rush might lead the latter to fire upon those individuals who first appeared; or at all events, cause confusion. The plan for securing their prisoners, was to compel one to bind the others, after which, one of the Bush-rangers tied him, the rest of the band remaining prepared to fire if any resistance was offered. At night, these desperadoes slept on one side of the fire, with a sentry to guard the fire-arms, the "pressed men" lying secured on the other.

When approaching a house, the latter had their arms tied behind their backs; but on other occasions were as well treated as circumstances permitted, both with regard to the supply of food, &c., and attention to their comfort in other respects. Near the public-house in question was the residence of a Roman Catholic, whom they obliged to give them a prayer-book and some flour, paying him for the last its full value.

Crossing afterwards the Coal River, Regan reached a hut, where he exchanged his carriers for other men whom he secured; and then passed several hours at the house of a settler, making prisoner every person he found there, and compelling the owner to supply the whole party, including servants, with wine.

As Banks had been severely wounded by the accidental discharge of a gun, a horse was taken to convey him, and Regan then commenced a retrograde movement, as he declared, with the intention of retiring to some spot where his party might remain unmolested until his companion recovered. It seems that, while descending the Brown Mountain, Banks was rather in advance of Regan, when the latter stumbled, and his gun going off, the ball passed through Banks' thigh, near the knee. It is surprising no more accidents happened, for their guns and pistols were kept cocked, and continually went off. Regan, with a view to save his companion in crime, gave out subsequently that he shot him because he attempted to escape. In justice to this desperate man I may here observe that he appears to have evinced great consideration for his wounded associate: so true it is that mankind, however wicked, possess in most instances some redeeming quality.

Parties of military and constables were from the first sent in pursuit of Regan, but without success; nor was it known with certainty to what part of the island he intended to proceed after the death of Palmer, until he robbed the public-house near Richmond. On receiving information of the last from the police-magistrate, I left my station at Green Ponds, with a corporal and three privates of my regiment, two constables, and two convicts who had volunteered their services. We marched first to Jerusalem, not the Holy City, but a trifling village, where the establishment is for those convicts who, from their various maladies, are unable to perform work of a laborious nature; and situated on a spot devoid of every charm, the environs consisting of sombre hills clothed with forest, or a small farm where the nature of the land admits of one. The direct distance from Green Ponds is about seven miles, but, to avoid the "scrub," we had to proceed by a circuitous route of fourteen. It was quite dark when we reached the only inn, the pretty landlady of which seemed fully convinced the Philistines were upon her. On discovering who I was, a matter, by reason of my rough disguise, not easily ascertained, (my party were also dressed in prisoner clothing,) she gave us a hearty welcome, and a good supper soon smoked upon the board. If destiny should lead any of my military friends to Van Diemen's Land, it is hoped they may feel no repugnance to mutton, as this is almost the constant fare, flanked sometimes by a piece of salt pork.

Quitting Jerusalem, I struck at once into a forest, and came to a stock-keeper's hut, where an intelligent lad informed me that Regan's party had rested the preceding evening, after robbing his master's house, and taken a horse, as already stated, to carry the wounded man. Although at this time twelve hours had elapsed since their departure, I did not despair of overtaking them; and accordingly, with the lad for a guide, got upon their track, which I followed six miles, when we lost the trail in a gully, called the Musquito Corners, which conducted us to the Brown Mountain. This is the most lofty portion of a range near the Coal River, and forms the eastern barrier of the valley through which that river flows to Richmond.

From the summit we beheld a vast tract of country; yet the view, notwithstanding it doubtless possesses a peculiar attraction, does not make upon the mind that impression so commonly left by an extensive prospect elsewhere. Here are seen no precipices rising at once above

the fertile vale, no towering peaks surrounded by everlasting snows, Nature assuming an aspect as devoid of her sterner features as of the beauties which harmonize so delightfully with the former in more favoured climes. The cultivated spots, in themselves seldom presenting much to admire, are usually of small extent; while the similarity of the mountain tiers to each other produces a monotony that soon fatigues. Even where a scene excites some degree of admiration this is rendered transient by the almost entire absence of water; and the feeling of sadness caused by the apparently boundless solitudes around. It is chiefly on the coasts that one must look for the picturesque, many of the bays and inlets being highly interesting.

My motive for ascending the Brown Mountain was to ascertain if a fire could be discerned in the gullies; but having remained several hours on the summit, without perceiving any indication of a bivouac, I directed each of my party to carry a bark torch, and descended to the house of the settler whose horse had been taken, arriving there about midnight. The difficulties of a march down the steep sides of the mountain, in the dark, and over ground strewed with dead limbs of trees, or rough with loose stones, may be more easily imagined than described.

By seven o'clock in the morning we were again at Jerusalem, from which we had been absent twenty-two hours, during which time we marched full sixty miles. Here I allowed my party a repose of six hours, to recover the fatigue resulting from so long a walk over such a difficult country; and then moved on to a farm six miles from the village, where we remained from six in the evening until the moon rose, which was about half-past one on the morning of the 19th. About an hour after our arrival we heard a shot, and the farm-overseer, notwithstanding that the night was intensely dark, rode four miles through a forest, and returned in rather more than four hours. But in these colonies both horses and riders perform wonders. With respect to the former, I once followed a stock-horse, whose rider was endeavouring to drive home a bullock, and observed that the animal was permitted to gallop with a slack rein, its instinct alone appearing to guide its movements. As the bullock turned so did the horse, which at length drove the other to the place intended.

In wild-cattle hunting, also, the horse displays astonishing sagacity and endurance, following these fleet, and not unfrequently dangerous, creatures up and down hills for hours together, while the spectator momentarily expects to see a tremendous fall; yet the same horse, if on a high-road, would in all likelihood be soon at his devotions.

From the farm in question, we continued our pursuit fifteen miles further, to a hut inhabited by a man named Tucker, who from his being one of the best guides in the colony, I had reason to believe would be secured by the Bush-rangers, the more particularly as they had for the first time started without one. It will be subsequently shown that I was right in my conjecture.

Arrangements were already made to avoid mistake or confusion amongst my own men, and two watchwords established-one for the advance to intimate that some person was approaching, the other that the Bush-rangers were at hand: one man walked about fifty yards in advance, the rest keeping ready to aid him if requisite. We had had, during our pursuit, numerous false alarms, especially through the absurd