It was a familiar scene: a rough dirt road, dry creek bed, scrubby bushland. I saw no evidence of cultivation or construction, just shadows, silence, rustlings. But overwhelmingly I felt a sense of connection. I belonged there. I had sprung from this spot.
This is the story of a gutsy, red-headed, seventeen-year-old, Sarah Bellamy
In 1934 Lue had a pub, school, railway station, baker, butcher, one church, another store and fewer than twenty scattered houses.
Kandos. A name to celebrate a new town, a new industry and hopefully a champion racehorse.
On that day young bloods, sons of pastoralists mainly, rode in to Rylstone on their horses, were inspected, learnt the conditions of the regiment and were sworn in at the courthouse.