Published in 1859, these are the memoirs of Frank Fowler's 3 year experience in Australia while serving in Her Majesty's Civil Service.

"We'll never get another chance like it, fellows " "No more we won't, Billie." "And so I say let's stay around this section till we see all there is." "That's what Adrian remarked, Billie, before you put your oar in." "Oh well if it's a unanimous vote, why, I reckon the whole thing might be called settled then, eh, Donald?" "We'll stay for a while, anyhow. You know our saddle chum, Adrian, is getting just wild to take a run away up into that Northern range country in Wyoming, where in times gone by they used to have big cattle ranches."

"Getting near the end of our long ride, ain't we, Adrian?" "Another night out ought to finish our great gallop from the Arizona border away up into the Wyoming cattle country, Billie." "Huh mebbe I ain't just glad to hear that news now. This broncho riding business may be all very well for a while; but a fellow can get too much, even of a good thing; ain't that so, Donald?"

"Let me look, Billie," and Donald reached out his hand for the field glass through which Broncho Billie was gazing down from the summit of Real del Monte upon the plain of Quesco, through which the Pachuca river winds its way. "Maybe I can make out who they are." Billie handed over the glass without a word and stood expectant, while Donald scrutinized closely a body of horsemen-twenty or more in number-which had halted beside the railroad that connects the little city of Pachuca with the City of Mexico.

"Crack " went Broncho Billie's revolver and the silver dollar which had been tossed into the air as a target went spinning into the yellow waters of the Rio Grande as a result of Billie's unerring aim. "Not a bad shot, Ad," remarked Billie with a laugh as he ejected the shell from the cylinder and shoved a fresh cartridge into the empty chamber of the revolver. "I don't miss 'em very often now, and this time the river is a dollar in."