The excitement over, and when my friend Clelland and myself had lighted our cigars, and perhaps taken a refresher out of our buffalo horns, I gave the natives to understand all about the missing sheep, which I found they knew nothing of, but that they were willing to accompany me in search of them.
The day ended in the restoration of the flock, and a kind reception by their owner, whose hospitality will be remembered by the early settlers of that colony, so long as memory lasts. That evening the natives gave us a great Corrobberree, and all ended in peace, when I gave the pass-word,—"Go it ye cripples. Home."
That night, I believe, I dream't of my friend with the spear and throwing-stick, for all hands told me in the morning, that I awoke shouting, "Go it ye cripples. Home."
I am sorry to have to record, that although all things passed off so well on this occasion, in a few weeks after, the same body of blacks committed several unprovoked acts of great atrocity, so that our mutual friendly salutation of "Go it Cripples," and its influences, were exchanged for something like
"Ride out, ride out,
The Foe to scout;
Mount, mount for Bransome every man:"
followed by prompt, and well deserved punishment.
I take this opportunity of giving an opinion, founded on many years' experience, that the true and most effective principle of successfully controlling savages, is founded on consistency. Kindness one day, and harshness another, will never do. They should be treated, as nearly as possible, on one uniform system, and when they return cruelty and ingratitude for kindness, they must be punished,—not in a half-and-half manner, as some persons coerce children, but in reality, so that they may "never forget to remember" the when,—the whereabouts,—and all that happened.
