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[centred] SPRINGSURE.
[From our correspondent]
THERE was nothing of any interest to report upon last week, without I dwelt upon the intolerable heat and of that you no doubt felt the most convincing proofs in your own neighbourhood without wishing to be reminded of it by reports from elsewhere. To the present it has ranged from 94 deg. to 106 deg. in the shade.
Christmas passed off languidly. The usual visitors were somewhat lessened by the Rolleston festivities for Boxing Day.
Our own Boxing Day was ably upheld by Mr. Moore, of the Springsure Hotel, under whose auspices the old English sport, of chasing the pig with the greasy tail, was carried on to the apparent enjoyment of those concerned, though for own part we were divided in opinion, as to which most to pity, the pig or its hunters.
Some jumping matches, a first rate foot race over five leaps, and a hurry scurry race or two, concluded the day, and the evening passed over without annoyance to the Queen's Peace.
This morning, however, a gentleman with a rueful face reported to the Police that while sleepinog he had been robbed of £140.
On their enquiring into the matter his statement proved true, but as one portion was a Bank receipt for £80, and the others a cheque for £60 in favour of himself only, he is not likely to be a sufferer beyond the delay his own folly has entailed upon him.
Just as I was about to close this, a report reached here that the Yellowberry Creek hotel had been stuck up by the blacks, and that Mrs. Edwards and child had sought refuge with some drays bringing down Mr. Turnbull's wool, while Mr. Edwards had ridden off to the Spring Creek Police Station for assistance.
On enquiry I found this confirmed by Mr. Baker, to whom Mrs. Edwards had fled, and though as time pressed I could not glean full particulars, I learned that the blacks were dispersed, and Mr. and Mrs. Edwards had returned to their lonely wayside inn. This shows how daring the aboriginals are becoming—note the recent outrages in our vicinity.