though meant as a joke, was actually considered by the London banker as a boná fide communication, and though the bills were actually drawn on Ben Bulben and Co., a mountain range near Sligo, they were actually discounted, and the manager of the bank, when the fraud was discovered, was compelled to resign.”
With all the apparent roughness, and seemingly loose way of doing business, great care had to be exercised, and if some, accustomed to the strict discipline of the head office, rejoiced at the apparent slackness, they soon found that, though it was pleasant enough to have a yarn with a customer in the middle of the day, yet it was more than made up by having to get up possibly at night to buy a parcel of gold, or that riding on business was very nice, but when it came to your horse bolting, upsetting you, and leaving you to foot it some ten or twenty miles, carrying possibly some 500 ozs. of gold, it was not altogether so pleasant. How would some of my young juniors in Sydney like the following experience of a well-known officer, for the truth of which I can vouch, and which I give in his own words:—
“In 1863, when acting as junior at Manuherikea agency, situated at the junction of the river of that name with the Clutha, Mr. Yates paid a visit of inspection, on the completion of which he said:—
“‘Youngster, I will require you to accompany me to the Teviot to bring down cash, and collect gold bought by our storekeepers.’
“‘What am I to ride, Mr. Yates?” “‘The grey, of course; I can get nothing else.’
“This announcement was not very comforting to me, seeing that Sherman’s rough rider had been entertaining the residents with his feats of horsemanship on this animal. I could ride, but not with the seat required to maintain one’s position on a buck-jumper, and the grey could go in a “docker” when started. I quietly took my chance. The nag was brought out the following morning; all the good folk turned out to see the fun. Luckily for me a friendly packer who was going with me, said—
“‘Leave your spurs behind, and don’t touch her with your heels.”
“Following his advice, I mounted. Yates had a twinkle in his eye, but my friend pushed his horse alongside of the grey, took a lead, and to my relief she followed without a kick. Our road lay over the Nobby ranges, and when nearing a deep chasm or gorge about three miles from the Teviot, Yates, seeing my steed travelling as lively as a bag of fleas, said:
“‘You take my horse as you are a light weight, and I will ride your mount.’
“As we had to lead our horses down and up, to cross this ravine, I took the lead with Yates’ horse, and being young and active, I was up and out of it some time before my boss. The thought then
