BY THE HON. A. NORTON, M.L.C. 77 



beneath, and these formed a snug retreat for snakes and native 

 cats, and not infrequently a death took place in the happy family. 

 We always knew when a misfortune of this kind had befallen us. 

 The first owner, who 'designed and built the house, regarded it 

 as an architectural triumph ! 



Five miles west of Waterloo was the Europeambela 

 station, owned by Frederick Huth, and managed by " Tom " 

 Rusden. Three miles on, in the same direction, Abraham Nivi- 

 sou lived, at Ohio ; and two miles further on was the small 

 township of Walcha. Caldwell kept the only inn there ; 

 Daniels, I think, the only store. There was also a blacksmith's 

 shop, and a few cottages were scattered round. Walcha was at 

 that time what is commonly described as a one-horse place. A 

 little later on Livingstone moved his store from the Europam- 

 bela road into the little town, and other stores and hotels were 

 opened ; also, a Hour mill beside a large, dark, bunyip-inhabited 

 waterhole in the Apsley. A mile from the township Mr. and 

 Mrs. Jamieson lived, at " Walcha Villa," and with them Mrs. 

 Smith, a widowed sister of Mr. Jamieson. This gentleman's 

 name calls to mind an incident which created a large amount 

 of interest throughout the pastoral districts. The she«p he 

 owned suffered more or less from scab —generally more — and 

 his neighbours, Rusden in particular, complained greatly of 

 the disease being communicated to their flocks, through inter- 

 mixing on the run boundaries. At the time to which I refer, 

 I think early in 1853, Europambela was " clean," all scabby 

 sheep having been boiled down not many months earlier. One 

 morning at Waterloo, my friend Morton and I had gone, after 

 breakfast, to the folding-ground at the back of the house. Sheep 

 then were kept in hurdle-yards at night. The flock had been 

 taken out about an hour earlier, but jus.tthen the shepherd came 

 back in a breathless condition, exclaiming in gasps, " Here's 

 scab — in all its purity ! " Then we had a consultation. One 

 of Jamieson's shepherds hal been lost two days before ; but he 

 stuck to his scabby flock, and followed them without knowing 

 where he was going. Our shepherd met him near our boundary 

 with Europambela, but the scabby sheep had not crossed it. 

 When he heard the lost man's tale, our shepherd turned both 

 flocks back, our own homewards, Jamieson's along the road to 

 Walcha. I, fortunately, was out of what followed. " I want 

 you to go to a sheep-station up the river, and then on to Walcha 

 with letters; but say nothing about these sheep to anyone." 

 So said Morton to me. He hastily put up some food, and we 



