Khourabene's history as a married man had not hitherto been so fortunate as that he could afford to run any more risks.
His first wife had given him reasonable ground for a divorce and he had obtained one by the native rule of spearing her; if he had not done so, he would have infringed his country's laws, but by his obedience to them, he laid himself open to the penalties of our code. The colonial Government has, naturally, proscribed all native customs which involve homicide, and, a police-warrant being issued for his apprehension, Khourabene could evade it only by hiding himself in the bush. At the end of two years he was captured; but it is difficult to find handcuffs that shall fit aboriginal wrists, and Khourabene slipped himself loose when the policeman who had apprehended him lay down to sleep under a tree, doing so, no doubt, with a safe conscience, as he had not only manacled the prisoner, but had also fastened him to himself with a chain.
The eyes of our wily friend twinkled with fun as he described to us his cautious lifting of the links, and the manner in which he had tickled the face of his snoring captor with a bit of grass to make him move into a convenient position whilst he worked his own release; so confident too was he in his noiseless tread, and in the soundness of the enemy's sleep, that on second thoughts he even risked a return to the same spot, after he had freed himself, in order to secure a loaf of bread from the policeman's wallet.
Some time afterwards Khourabene was again caught, and carried down to Perth to take his trial, but the ease
