The poor sniphorse off the Buckland Coach were sheltering with me under the veranda she had been fired on by the squatter Dr Rowe and were now wounded. It were Harry^Rs fault there were no reason to take her from that dull and honest coachhorse life her great heart pounding on the daily climb up the mountains the drear cycle of ceaseless labour must seem sweet enough to her now. She had taken the bullet high in her shoulder and when she cooled would certainly be lame for good. Thence only death a sledgehammer between her blindfolded eyes such is life.

Inside the shanty were much laughing and singing the shadows flitting across the curtains. Harry Power were dancing I heard not a word about the bunions he otherwise were whingeing about night and day. I never knew a man to make such a fuss about his feet. Feet & bowels never ceasing bowels & feet. My 1st job each soggy morning were to find them blackberry roots for his bowels thank Jesus he ministered to his smelly bunions by himself. He had a red string with 7 knots he must wind in a particular way around his inflamed joint then recite the following:

Bone to bone blood to blood

And every sinew in its proper place

The sniphorse pissed forlornly on the muddy floor I could smell bacon frying inside the shanty but none had been sent out to me. I were working myself into a temper on this point when the door swung open it were Harry Power holding a red hot coal in a pair of blacksmith^Rs tongs. Beside him come the landlord^Rs big chested wife she had narrow hips like a boy and very pretty hands in which she carried a sugar bowl. She were tipsy laughing pretending to fall against the famous bushranger.

Hold the horse Ned Kelly said he I did not thank him that he used my name in front of witnesses. Only 2 days previous he had caused Dr Rowe of Mount Battery Station to clearly see my face. We was lying on the rock above his paddock looking for a more spirited replacement for the sniphorse. Rowe were a cunning old fox he crept up beside us and let off a shot which kicked up the dust in front of my nose. I would of surrendered there and then but were more afraid of Harry than of the squatter thus we made this mad rush riding 2 days into the face of the storm arriving on this veranda drenched to the bone I were whipped and cut across the face by myall scrub my lip consequently swollen as if I had been thrashed.

Now the landlord^Rs wife give Harry Power the sugar he sprinkled it onto the red hot coal.

Hold the effing horse he says to me.

I took the bridle while Harry encouraged the smoking coal to pass over the horse^Rs wound I had seen this remedy practised by the Quinns and Lloyds but Harry were drunk so he placed the coal too near the skin I could smell the burning hair. The 1st time she were burnt the horse kicked but the 2nd time she reared and I couldnt hold her she broke through the bark roof of the veranda. Of this damage to the shanty Harry seemed oblivious. There he said that^Rll fix you girl. That were a lie because the ball were buried too deep it had gone to a place no smoke could reach.

To me he said he would soon send out some tucker.

I^Rll come inside said I.

O you will will you?

There aint no point in watching here I said unless the traps is coming in an adjectival ship.

For answer I got a mighty clout across the head I took a swing back at him. This he would not brook he grabbed me by the bawbles.

You want to fight me boy?

No Harry.

While the landlady watched he squeezed my bawbles till I could not help but cry out with pain and having wrung that humiliation from me he turned his back and took his girlfriend back inside. I calmed down the frightened horse swearing this would be my last adventure with the famous Harry Power.

By and by the door opened it werent Harry the stranger were more like a farmer with his powerful sloping shoulders and heavy arms but he bore no greater burden than a glass of liquor which he offered though I never liked the smell.

Too strong for you boy? He were a so called handsome man a neat beard framing his naked face. You want some lemonade in it?

He were watching me very close a smile playing round his lips so I sipped to show I could of drunk it if I wished.

Your ma is very partial to that drink I^Rm sure you know it.

I might.

Very partial said he.

All my childhood there were always some man thought he could tell stories about my mother he rested his back against the veranda post and grinned.

You know Bill Frost?

I admitted the connection. Thats a chap who is awful partial to his rum and cloves. He made it sound so dirty I were embarrassed laying my face against the mare^Rs cold wet neck and stroking her but still the man would not cease.