On The Wallaby, The Diary of a Queensland Swagman by Edward S. Sorenson

We were a mile from Hornet Bank, a place famous in Australian history. The buildings are clustered on the end of a ridge, around which sweeps a long lagoon, and but a short distance from the river. Fronted by a luxuriant forest, there was excellent cover all round it for an attack; and, as it was a splendid camping ground, the occupation of it by the whites was naturally resented. It was one of the choice spots in the towri of the local blacks, and that, with subsequent pinpricks and brushes, led up to the murder of the Frasers on October 29, 1857. There was a little cemetery, containing the remains of the victims, about 300 yards from the front of the house, with a stone at the head of each grave. There were also many other graves within the enclosure, in some of which lay buried unfortunates who were murdered at other times. These did not complete the number killed on the run, for the sub- squattages had their lonely grass-covered mounds, and here and there by various tracks a small square marked the resting-place of an unwary shepherd. In some instances bush fires had almost obliterated them, leaving only the butts of the posts showing black above the ground.

The old house was pulled down six months previous to this, but the woolshed was still standing. The blacks broke into the house at daylight. Whilst they were at their awful work one of the girls escaped, and ran to the woolshed. The blacks followed, and dragged her out by the hair, and killed her. Jimmy Fraser, then about 14, and a brother were sleeping in the one bed. The brother was killed with a nulla, and Jimmy was stunned. He rolled out and under the bed, where he lay till the blacks had left the house. Then, snatching up a bridle, he ran down to a horse which was grazing in a paddock at the foot of the hill. The blacks, who had been waiting about, went in pursuit. No one had ever succeeded in catching this horse outside of a yard; and on the bridling of the doubtful beast without the loss of a moment the fugitive's life depended.