In July, 1824, a party under James Crawford, appeared on the river, and having robbed the house of Mrs. Smith, they loaded her servants with their plunder, and drove them towards the establishment of Mr. Robert Taylor: meeting his son, they compelled him to bear part of the burden. The family observed the party approach, and armed to meet them. Young Taylor called to his father not to fire; and when he came near his friends, he managed to escape from the robbers: a general skirmish ensued. The young man seeing a piece levelled at his father, seized the assassin by the throat, and pulled him down: this brought a comrade to the robber's assistance: one of the servants became alarmed for young Taylor, and fired; unhappily, the shot was fatal to the youth for whose protection it was intended. The robbers now made their escape, leaving behind, beside two of their companions, their arms and plunder. Governor Arthur addressed a letter of condolence and praise to the sorrowing family: their neighbours expressed admiration of their courage, and presented a piece of plate to them, in testimony of their sympathy and esteem. Their example was exhibited by the Governor to the imitation of the colonists, notwithstanding its terrible issue. The overseer of Mr. Kemp was met by Brady and his party, and taken to his master's house; there he was ordered to gain admission, which he did by answering the challenge of his employer: the bushrangers having possession, robbed the house, in the presence of seven assigned servants and two free persons. Yet it was not a small risk to begin the _melee_; and it was not reasonable to expect men, in their civil condition, to hazard life to protect the property of a master, for whom, perhaps, they did not entertain much love. Thus the settlers could not always depend upon their men: many of whom saw, with pleasure, the vengeance inflicted on masters who had sometimes procured their punishment; and, partly by sympathy and partly by fear, they were deterred from rendering effectual assistance. Three men, with blackened faces, visited the residence of Captain Allison at Sandy Bay: he met them with uncommon courage, but was struck down and beaten; he appealed to his servants, who only muttered a reply to his calls for aid. Mrs. Allison joined her entreaties, when at length an atrocious woman (Hannah Bell, afterwards notorious) said to the robbers, in a tone of sarcasm,--"Come men, don't kill him quite out."