Such is the anomalous position in which the native inhabitants are placed through the tender consciences of our rulers at home. A member of a tribe has been speared by one of another tribe, who happens to be patronized by a farm-settler, and is occasionally useful in hunting-up stray cattle. The friends of the dead man proceed to punish the assassin according to their own hereditary laws; they surprise him suddenly, and spear him. The farmer writes an account of the fact to the Protector of Natives at Perth; and this energetic individual, rising hastily from dinner, calls for his horse, and endowing himself with a blue woollen shirt, and a pair of dragoon spurs, with a blanket tied round his waist, fearlessly commits himself to the forest, and repairs to the scene of slaughter. He learns from the mouth of the farm-settler, that the facts are really what he had been already apprised of by letter; and then, having left word that the offender may be caught as soon as possible, and forwarded to Fremantle gaol, he hastens back again to his anxious family; and the next morning delivers a suitable report to his Excellency the Governor of all that he has performed. In course of time the native is apprehended -- betrayed by a friend for a pound of flour -- and brought to the bar of justice. His natural defence would be that he certainly slew an enemy, as he is accused of having done, but then it was a meritorious and necessary act; he glories in it; his own laws required that he should slay the murderer of his relative; and his own laws, therefore, accuse him not. What are English customs, prejudices, or laws to him? He is not a British subject, for he is not the inhabitant of a conquered country (as English governors tell him), nor has he, or any of his tribe or complexion, consented or wished to be placed under the protection of our laws. Why, then, should he be violently dragged from the arms of his 'wilgied' squaws, and his little pot-bellied piccaninnies, and required to plead for his life in the midst of a large room filled with frowning white faces? Much obliged is he to the judge, who kindly tells him, through the interpreter, that he is not bound to convict himself, and need not acknowledge anything that may operate to his disadvantage in the minds of the jury. The unfortunate savage disregards the friendly caution, and heeds it not; he maintains, stoutly, that he 'gidgied' Womera through the back, because Womera had 'gidgied' Domera through the belly. He enters into minute details to the gentlemen of the jury of the manner in which these slaughters were effected, and describes the extent and direction of the wounds, and every other interesting particular that occurs to him. The gentlemen of the jury, after duly considering the case, return (of necessity) a verdict of "Wilful murder," and the judge pronounces sentence of death -- which is afterwards commuted by the Governor to transportation for life to the Isle of Rottnest.