And though bushmen do not believe much in a far-off Government--even
though they say when protesting against a bad Land Law, "And your
Petitioners will ever Pray," and all that kind of yabber-yabber--they
give its representative the lazy side of the fire and a fig of the best
tobacco when he bails up a camp as the Cadi did ours. Stewart Ruttan,
the Cadi, was the new magistrate at Windowie and Gilgan, which stand for
a huge section of the Carpentaria country. He was now on his way to
Gilgan to try some cases there. He was a new chum, though he had lived
in Australia for years. As Barlas said, he'd been kept in a cultivation-
paddock in Sydney and Brisbane; and he was now going to take the business
of justice out of the hands of Heaven and its trusted agents the bushmen,
and reduce the land to the peace of the Beatitudes by the imposing reign
of law and summary judgments. Barlas had just said as much, though in
different language.

I knew by the way that Barlas dropped the damper on the hot ashes and
swung round on his heel that he was in a bad temper. "And so you think,
Cadi," said he, "that we squatters and bushmen are a strong, murderous
lot; that we hunt down the Myalls--[Aborigines]--like kangaroos or
dingoes, and unrighteously take justice in our own hands instead of
handing it over to you?"

"I think," said the Cadi, "that individual and private revenge should
not take the place of the Courts of Law. If the blacks commit
depredations--"

"Depredations!" interjected Drysdale with sharp scorn.

"If they commit depredations and crimes," the Cadi continued, "they
should be captured as criminals are captured elsewhere and be brought in