It appears that Dwyer and his wife left home with some pigs to go to Dapto. They had only proceeded a mile or so on the road, when Dwyer sent his son, a lad only seven years and four months old, back for a quart pot. This was in the morning, but the boy not returning, his father went back next evening to learn the cause of his delay. On finding that his son was not at home, he sent a man to bring the neighbours together. Next day about twenty horsemen came to his house, and commenced a thorough search of the adjoining country, which is rough and woody. They beat about until Friday in all directions, but could neither find trace of boy nor horse. On that day Mr. B. Rixon arrived from Wollongong, information having been conveyed to him of what had taken place. When he reached Dwyer's house, the searchers were dispirited and fatigued. Those who had been searching previously said it was no use looking again, as they had tried every nook and corner of the country. Mr. Rixon, however, was not to be so easily satisfied; he said the lad would live a fortnight, and, if he had not met with bodily injury, he was sure he was still alive. As nothing had been seen of the horse, which would be sure to be alive, he concluded the search had not been extended enough, or else not made in the right direction. Six others-Mr. John Griffiths, senior, of Mittagong, and his two sons; William Buchanan, George Weldron, and Thomas Rude-volunteered to go with Rixon, and make a thorough search of the neighbouring country. They were out three days and two nights, exploring all the creeks and gullies leading to the Kangaroo Ground Mountain, and right to the head of the Nepean River,

but without success. On Sunday night the party returned to Mr. Griffith's house. In talking over the adventures of the search, the lads recollected that they had heard shouts on the Monday after the boy was lost, in the direction of the Nepean River, a short distance from the house, and on the following morning Mr. Rixon determined on renewing the search in that direction. They started off early, and if possible made a more minute search than before. They came on tracks where the horse had been tied to trees on the bank of the river, which is very shallow in most places. At these places they saw little heaps of light-coloured pebbles which the little wanderer had picked up from the banks of the stream and beguiled the weary hours by playing with. These signs gave them more encouragement, and they pursued their task until about eleven o'clock, when they made towards home for the purpose of getting dinner. They had just finished their repast, when the poor child crawled up to the house after being nine days away wandering in the wild dense gullies, which are found in that country. The delight and surprise of Mr. Rixon and the Griffiths' cannot be described. Mrs. Griffiths at once took charge of the little sufferer, and, by direction of Mr. Rixon, administered such light and nourishing food as befitted his exhausted and emaciated system. He was not injured about his body at all. His clothes were stiff with being dried on him, after they had been wet through and through. When he had somewhat recovered, they got to know by degrees the particulars of his wanderings. He scarcely knew how he was first lost. When he found that he was, he trusted to the

horse, but the animal deceived him, and took him farther astray. The only food he had was three onions, which were in his pocket when he went astray; he had eaten two of them, and the other was in his pocket when he returned, he being, as he said, unable to eat it, it was so hot. He only parted with the horse the day before he returned. He had got into a very difficult place-a neck of land formed by a bend of the river, and backed up by masses of rock and a thick scrub. In this place he left the horse, taking the precaution (wonderful in a child of his age) to break the boughs of the scrub as he came out. The motive for his leaving the horse here was that he had heard voices and fancied he saw a large house, a delusion caused, no doubt, by the wanderings of a mind unsettled by anxiety and want of bodily nourishment. He says he used to sit nearly the whole of the day on the horse's back and let him wander whichever way he liked, and at night time he used to tie himself on to the saddle with a piece of rope he had with him; he did this, be says, to keep him out of the reach of the wild dogs, which howled about him in great numbers. The boy described many things which he thought he had seen, such as men racing and sawyers at work. When he returned his pockets were crammed with pretty coloured pebbles, such as he had been playing with on the banks of the river. The manner in which he was led towards Griffiths' house, is not the least wonderful part of this extraordinary narrative. Rixon and his party crossed the river to come towards home, and shortly after passed a tree which the Griffiths said that they had felled for the purpose of getting wild honey from it. On the

other side of the tree the poor lad was crouched down, endeavouring to extract some nutriment from the remains of the broken honey-combs. He must have been so overcome with joy, or bewildered for the moment, or, what is more likely, so weak that he could not make himself heard or seen, when he saw the searchers passing round the head of the tree and go into the scrub. He followed them as quick and as well as he could until he reached the house. He was carefully attended to by Mrs. Griffiths, and his mother was sent for. She soon came over, and stayed with her son until next day, Tuesday, when he was taken home (a distance of about two miles), at which time Mr. Rixon says there was every hope of his recovery, if properly treated.

Such is the tale as we found it, and it is likely to be quite true. But the father of the child did very wrong in sending one so young on such an errand. He had better have gone himself at first. He did so, no doubt, to save time, but he lost a great deal more, and he and his wife must have been in great distress until their boy was found.

WHEN I WAS A BOY.

I HAVE told you how I fell into the river, and how my two playfellows ran away and left me without trying to get me out. I said I would tell you who it was who saved me. It was one of my schoolfellows who was walking across the moor: he saw me fall in, and he saw them run away. So he ran as fast as he could, and without stopping to pull off his

clothes, like a noble boy as he was, he waded into the water and laid hold of my hair as I was again sinking, perhaps for the last time. He then drew me to the shore. I felt very bad, but as soon as I could think, I remember how glad I felt that I was safe on dry land again. But what were we to do? Here I was, all dripping with wet, like a drowned rat, as they say. I could not go up the High-street, where my parents lived, for everybody would see me. So J. H. led me up a back lane. Going up this lane, where the two boys lived, we saw them, but they got out of the way, for I believe they thought we were coming to tell their parents how bad they had behaved in leaving me in the river to be drowned. Here, however, my mother's nurse, who had taken care of me when I was a baby, saw me, and we told her all about it. So she took me into her house, stripped me of all my wet clothes, rubbed me well all over, and put me in a warm bed between blankets, and then went to our house and told my mother, who soon came with some dry clothes for me. I lay in bed until I was quite warm, and then got up and went home. Oh how glad I was when I got to our house again! I went to bed very early, but I could not go to sleep for thinking what a narrow escape I had from death. I might have been brought home dead and laid on that bed a corpse ! I hope I did not forget to be thankful to God for sending that good boy to save my life. I know that I made up my mind never to go with such lads as those any more. I thought J. H., who had saved me, should be my companion, for I felt that I loved him more than I could tell.

I cannot tell you what I dreamed that night when I fell