Australian Tales - Setis

them asked Micky what he wanted with the old gentleman.
“Why, I want to give him his horse, and git back me Bible and
Pilgrim's Progress; that's what I want wid him. I don't know where he's
gone, an I don't know what I'll do at all, no more nor a fellar wid a
wooden head. I want me property; I don't want his horse, no more nor I
want an ould catsmeat cart. Och, bother! where's he got to, I wonder? I
want me property, so I do.”
“What property do you want?” asked one of the strangers.
“Why, I tould you what property jist a minute agone, didn't I?” replied
Micky, hastily. “An shure it's property worth all the sheep an cattle in the
colony, soh, — aye, an all the goold nuggets intil the bargain.”
“Come along with us, and we will take you to the old man's house,”
said one of the strangers, after a little more private conference with his
companion. “You must ride fast, my man; but keep a few rods away
from us, do you hear?”
“I hear, yer honours,” said Micky; “I'll follow yer like a red-hot
cannon-ball. Hurry now, jintlemen, if yer plaze; ride as if yez was huntin
kangaroos, an good luck to yez.”
Away they rode at a hand-gallop, up hill and down hill, through the
bush, and across the plains, for many miles. At length, just as it was
getting dark; they arrived at a sheep station. The strangers cooeyed, when
a hairy-faced man made his appearance, and on receiving some hurried
instructions from one of the gentlemen, he ran off towards some huts a
short distance away. In about five minutes he returned, in company of
five or six other men, who surrounded Micky, and before he had time to
surmise what they were going to do, they seized and pulled him from his
horse, pinioned his arms behind him, tied his legs, and carried him into a
large wool-shed, where they threw him upon a heap of sheepskins.
“Murther! murther! robbery!” shouted Micky, with all his might. “Bad
cess to yez! what on airth are ye afther traitin a poor crater in this
cannibal style for? What harrm have I done to any ov yez, that you want
to kill me in this cowardly way? Och! rob me if ye like — ov course
you'll do that pretty quick, an faix ye won't have much to share betwixt
yez, when ye've done it; strip me stark naked if yer a mind to, but spare
me life, good luck to ye — me owld carcase isn't worth a dead parrot to
any of yez.”
“Where's Hopping Sam?” asked one of the gentlemen. “Oh, here he is.
Sam, mount the bay mare, and gallop to Gallipot Station; ask Dr.
Strapping if he can ride over the first thing in the morning to see this
poor fellow. If the doctor can't come, ask him what we shall do with the
patient.”
“Is he clean cranky, do you think, sir?” asked Sam as he prepared to
mount the mare's back.
“Clean cranky, eh! why, he's raving mad,” replied the gentleman.