RANGER

• Stefan Stamenkov, Grade 7
• Short Story
• 2018

1820, Australia is still very young. But crime was the new thing. This was the new black. Life in Alice Springs was slow. A postal carriage carrying jewels, money, clothes and valuables would pass every 3 weeks. This gave most rangers time to plan their robbing’s. Bushrangers were master thieves. The night was the camouflage. Horses were a friend and black powder pistols and rifles were a primary loadout.
Things back then were super hard. Clean water and fresh produce were only for the rich. So most people resulted to dirty food and water or the rich people’s scraps.
*Horse galloping*
“Pull it over or you’ll become a smoked weasel! 3…2...” shouted an angry Australian Irish voice.
The carriage stops. A man screams his lungs out knowing that this would be his sad miserable end. The driver knew that this was the pitiful job. As the man soon to be the most wanted bushranger. He grabbed all the jewels and money. Soon quickly riding off into the bush never to be seen before. The post driver was sobbing in tears still curled up like a cat. The interesting thing was that this wasn’t the first robbery. As the grieving thief rode through the bush he rode to his shack. It was old, murky and rusty. It looked like no-one was caring for it. Inside was the same as the outside. The ranger always knew that he would get found so he would act normal and conceal his weapons and most importantly act normal.
3 weeks later…
“Oi, chap serve me a stingy, NOW!” spoke an Australian Irish voice, with a lot of anger with a frowned face.
“Okay sir, so one stingy? “yes” Coming right up” shakes the bartender.
The bushranger took the alcohol and as he turned around he saw the postal carriage, he smashed the shot glass on the table and leaps outside to his horse. He kicks the horse's stomach and of he went.
“Stop it, oi stop I’ll shoot you” shouted the ranger with anger…
BANG, BANG
Those two gunshots silenced the air…