Mr. Roberts had been a small landed proprietor in the old country, farming his own land. Times had been bad, and the failure of a bank, in which he had a few shares, had swept away not only all his ready money, but had brought upon him heavy calls which he was unable to meet. He had a brother who, some years before, had emigrated to New South Wales, and he had given so favourable an account of the country that Mr. Roberts decided to sell his land and emigrate there with his wife and two children, a boy and a girl. After meeting all claims, and paying their passages out, he had arrived at Sydney with the sum of £3000. He had wisely determined not to risk more than a third of this, and, placing £2000 in a bank, he had invested a thousand in sheep, cattle, and horses, and had taken up some land on the extreme border of the settlement. He had now been there four years, and had been well contented with his choice. The site was an exceptionally pleasant one. A small stream ran through the property, which was better wooded than most of the land in that part. His stock had increased fourfold, and although there had been occasional reports of trouble with the blacks, they had hitherto met with no molestation whatever. Natives had come and gone, and had always been hospitably received, and he certainly had no reason to believe that there was anything but good feeling between them and the inmates of the Springs, as the station was called, from a spring that rose some hundred and fifty yards away from the house and was situated some feet above the floor level, the water bubbling up into a barrel which was sunk in the ground. A pipe whose end was inserted in the barrel was buried underground, and through this the water flowed, giving a constant supply to the house. Another pipe conveyed the water to a trough, which had been erected for the use of the animals kept at the station. The other animals watered at the stream.
The boy, who was now fifteen, had been for the past two years at Sydney, living at his uncle's and attending school. In another year he was to return to the station. He had gone most reluctantly, but his father had said: "I can quite understand your liking this life, Ned, but I don't wish you to grow up simply a bush farmer. The colony is increasing fast, and there will be plenty of openings for a young fellow of intelligence and a fair education. I hope that by the time you grow up I shall be able to settle you on a farm like mine, and stock it well for you, if you decide upon following this sort of life, or to start you in any line that you may like to adopt in Sydney. You have had two years of running wild, and if you remain here you will speedily forget what little you have learned; but in any case, three years at school will be a great advantage to you."