Page:Tales-of-Banks-Peninsula Jacobson 2ed 1893 cropped.pdf/172

in a young horse, so that kept us for a bit. I had now run through all my money, and having a bit of a quarrel with those who were getting the thing ready for a start, I ‘chucked it up.’ ”

This is the story just as he told it to our informant, and on venturing to doubt the veracity of his statement he flew into a most violent passion, and wanted to know what good it would do him to make up a bundle of lies. He seemed quite earnest over it, and really we cannot but believe there was some truth in it. He said he intended to have another go for it some day, as he reckoned if he could get it alive it would be as good as a pile to him. Several times he tried to get the Little River Maoris to go with him, but in vain. In one of the bush fires at the River his whâre was consumed. It stood on Mr White’s ground, just after you commence the rise of the hill, about a quarter of a mile from the corner. Like most of the old hands, Jimmy came to an untimely end. After leaving the River he struck south, and was found dead on the banks of the Rangitata, close to Sir Cracroft Wilson’s station. A bottle of Hennessy was his only companion. It is needless to say it was empty.

Mr. and Mrs. Hahn, who used to live within a short distance of Jimmy Walker at Waikouaiti, and who knew him well, have forwarded us the following further particulars regarding that veteran. It appears that some nineteen years ago he was splitting posts and rails at Johnny Jones’ bush at Waikouaiti, having gone there from the Tuapeka diggings. Jimmy here dropped across a widow who was sister to a Mrs. Winsey. She had been married to an old skipper, who had given up “the briny,” as he called it, and died in the happy possession of an oyster saloon in the classic neighbourhood of the Minories, in London. When this unfortunate event occurred her sister wanted her to come out