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diff --git a/25059-h/25059-h.htm b/25059-h/25059-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..25117d4 --- /dev/null +++ b/25059-h/25059-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1426 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + In the Far North, by Louis Becke + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of In The Far North, by Louis Becke + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: In The Far North + 1901 + +Author: Louis Becke + +Release Date: April 12, 2008 [EBook #25059] +Last Updated: March 8, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IN THE FAR NORTH *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + IN THE FAR NORTH + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h3> + From “The Tapu Of Banderah and Other Stories” + </h3> + <h2> + By Louis Becke + </h2> + <h5> + C. Arthur Pearson Ltd. <br /> <br /> 1901 + </h5> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Out on the wastes of the Never Never— + That's where the dead men lie! + There where the heat-waves dance for ever— + That's where the dead men lie!” + (Barcroft Boake, + in the Sydney Bulletin.) +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + Contents + </h2> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> II </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> III </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> IV </a> + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + I + </h2> + <p> + Jack Barrington, nominal owner of Tinandra Downs cattle station on the + Gilbert River in the far north of North Queensland, was riding slowly over + his run, when, as the fierce rays of a blazing sun, set in a sky of brass, + smote upon his head and shoulders and his labouring stock-horse plodded + wearily homewards over the spongy, sandy soil, the lines of Barcroft Boake + came to his mind, and, after he had repeated them mentally, he cursed + aloud. + </p> + <p> + “<i>That's where the dead men lie!</i> Poor Boake must have thought of + this God-forsaken part of an utterly God-forsaken country, I think, when + he wrote 'Out where the Dead Men Lie.' For I believe that God Almighty has + forgotten it! Oh for rain, rain, rain! Rain to send the Gilbert down in a + howling yellow flood, and turn this blarsted spinifex waste of scorching + sand and desolation into green grass—and save me and the youngsters + from giving it best, and going under altogether.... Boake knew this cursed + country well.... I wonder if he ever 'owned' a station—one with a + raging drought, a thundering mortgage, and a worrying and greedy bank + sooling him on to commit suicide, or else provide rain as side issues.... + I don't suppose he had a wife and children to leave to the mercy of the + Australian Pastoralists' Bank. D——n and curse the Australian + Pastoralists' Bank, and the drought, and this scorching sand and hateful + spinifex—and God help the poor cattle!” + </p> + <p> + He drew rein almost under the shade of a clump of stunted sandalwood, + which had, in good seasons, been a favourite mustering camp, and looked + about him, and then he passed his hand over his eyes to shut out for a few + moments the melancholy spectacle before him. + </p> + <p> + I have said that he pulled up “almost” under shelter; further he could not + advance, for the hard, parched ground immediately under the shade of the + sandalwoods was thickly covered by the stiffened sun-dried carcasses of + some hundreds of dead cattle, which, having become too weak to leave the + sheltering trees in search of food and water had lain down and died. + Beyond, scattered singly and about in twos and threes, were the remains of + scores of other wretched beasts, which, unable to drag themselves either + to the sandy river-bed or to the scanty shade of the stunted timber, had + perished where they fell. + </p> + <p> + With a heavy sigh Harrington dismounted, took off his water-bag from the + saddle, and pouring a little water into his hat, gave his horse a drink. + Then he drank a few mouthfuls himself, filled and lit his pipe, and sat + down, to rest awhile until the sun had lost its fierce intensity—and + think. + </p> + <p> + And he thought despairingly of the black prospect which for the past six + or seven months had tormented him by day, and haunted him at night, broken + now and then with a gleam of hope when the pitiless blue of the sky + changed to grey, and rain seemed near, only to be followed by renewed and + bitter disappointment. + </p> + <p> + “It cannot last much longer,” he thought; “even if rain came within a week + the rest of the poor brutes left alive will be too weak to recover—and + there's not hands enough on the station to cut leaves for them. Even the + blacks have cleared out lower down the river... found a good water-hole I + daresay, and, like wise niggers, are camping there. Why doesn't Providence + give a poor honest bullock as much show for his life in a drought as a + damned, filthy blackfellow! Instead of hoofs—in this part of the + country at any rate—cattle ought to have feet like a bandicoot, then + the poor beasts could worry along by digging waterholes in the river bed.” + </p> + <p> + Then, sick at heart as he was, a faint smile flitted over his sun-bronzed + face at the fancy. + </p> + <p> + An hour passed, and Harrington, with another weary sigh, rose and saddled + his horse—one of the few now remaining to him and able to carry a + rider. Five miles away from the sandalwood camp was another and larger + patch of timber—tall, slender brigalows, which grew on the edge of a + dried-up swamp, once the haunt and breeding place of countless thousands + of wild duck, teal, and geese. This was another of the mustering camps on + Tinandra, and as it lay on his way home, he decided to go there and see if + any of the “Big Swamp” cattle were still alive. As he rode slowly over + towards the fringe of timber, the westering sun turned from a dazzling, + blinding gold to a gradually deepening red; and his sweating horse gave a + snort of satisfaction as the soft, spongy, and sandy spinifex country was + left behind, and the creature's hoofs struck upon the hard sun-baked plain + of yellow earth which lay between the two camps. Looking down at the + great, widely spreading cracks in the hungry soil, the result of a + seven-months' continuous drought, Harrington almost unconsciously bent his + head and thought that surely God would send rain. He was not a religious + man in the conventional sense—he had never been inside a church in + his life—but the memory of his dead mother's belief in God's mercy + and goodness was still strong within him. + </p> + <p> + The brigalow scrub was about half a mile in length, and stood between the + swamp and the high river bank. At the dried-up bed of the swamp itself he + did not care to look a second time; its once reedy margin was now a sight + of horror, for many hundreds of cattle had been bogged there long months + before, as they had striven to get further out to the centre where there + was yet left a little water, saved from evaporation by the broad leaves of + the blue water-lilies. + </p> + <p> + Skirting the inner edge of the scrub till he reached its centre, he looked + carefully among the timber, but not a beast was to be seen; then + dismounting he led his horse through, came out upon the river bank, and + looked across the wide expanse of almost burning sand which stretched from + bank to bank, unbroken in its desolation except by a few ti-trees whose + roots, deep down, kept them alive. + </p> + <p> + “Bob, old fellow,” he said to his horse, “we've another ten miles to go, + and there's no use in killing ourselves. I think that we can put in half + an hour digging sand, and manage to raise a drink down there in the river + bed.” + </p> + <p> + Still leading the animal, which seemed to know his master's intention, + Harrington walked down the sloping bank, his long riding-boots sinking + deeply into the fine, sandy soil, and Bob pricked up his ears and gave a + true stock-horse sigh of weariness and anticipation combined. + </p> + <p> + On the opposite side of the river bed and close under the bank were + growing two or three heavy ti-trees, and here, just as the sun had set, he + halted, again unsaddled, and after lighting a fire, began to scoop out a + hole with his quart pot in between the roots of the trees. For some + minutes he worked on with energy, then he stopped and listened, and Bob, + too, turned his head inquiringly, for he also had heard the sound—it + was only the cry of a beast, but it seemed so near that Harrington ceased + his digging and stood up to look. + </p> + <p> + Not a hundred yards distant he saw, by the light of the now brightly + blazing fire, four gaunt steers and a skeleton heifer, staggering and + swaying over the river sand towards him in their weakness and agony of + hunger and thirst The poor creatures had seen the man and the horse! As + they toiled towards the light of the fire, a dreadful, wheezing moan came + from the parched throat of the leading steer as it laboured pantingly over + to something human—something it associated with water, and grass, + and life, and presently the wretched animal, with one last effort, fell in + its tracks almost at Harrington's feet. It lay there quiet enough for a + minute or two, with lean, outstretched neck and one horn buried in the + sand, its fast glazing eye turned to the man, and seeming to say, “Give me + water or death.” + </p> + <p> + Harrington, wrought up and excited to the last pitch, flung himself upon + his knees, and placed his cheek against that of the dying steer, and a sob + burst from his bosom. + </p> + <p> + “O God, if there is a God! have mercy upon these Thy dumb creatures who + suffer such agony.” + </p> + <p> + He stepped up to his horse, took his revolver out of the pouch, and then a + merciful bullet ended the sufferings of the thirst-stricken animal at his + feet. + </p> + <p> + “Steady, Bob, old man! Steady there!” he said brokenly, “I may have to do + the same to you before long.” And then, tearing off a long piece of dried + ti-tree bark from one of the trees, he thrust it into the fire. Then, with + the blazing torch in his left hand, and his pistol in his right, he + tramped over the sand to the remaining cattle, and shot them dead one by + one. + </p> + <p> + Then back to his digging again. A drink of thick, muddy water for his + horse, and then with a dull sense of misery in his heart he led Bob up the + bank and began the last stage of his ride home—home to his anaemic, + complaining, shallow-brained wife and the weakly children who, instead of + being the consolation of his life in his misfortunes, were an added and + ever-present source of misery and despair. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II + </h2> + <p> + A few years before, Harrington had bought Tinandra Downs, and had stocked + the run with three thousand head of store cattle; for half of which number + he had paid, the remainder he had bought on long terms from a neighbouring + squatter—a man who knew his sterling merits, and was confident that + he (Harrington) would make Tinandra one of the best cattle stations in the + far north. Fortune had smiled upon him from the first; for within two + years came the discovery of the famous Palmer River goldfields, only a few + hundred miles distant, and cattle and station properties doubled in value, + for in less than half a year there were six thousand diggers on the field, + and more came pouring in from the southern colonies by every steamer to + Cooktown. New townships sprang suddenly into existence, provisions of all + kinds brought an enormous price, and Harrington cleared off his debt to + his squatter friend almost ere he could realise having done so, and that + he had several thousands of pounds to the good as well. And his good luck + stuck to him, for it was attended by careful management, and every mob of + fat cattle he despatched to the goldfield instead of sending them on a + three-hundred league journey to Brisbane, meant another couple of thousand + sovereigns. + </p> + <p> + Then he began to improve the head station—and to think of Myra, a + girl whom he had once met in Sydney, and who sent him newspapers, and, + once or twice, at long intervals, had written him letters. He had answered + these letters with a secret hope that, if all went well with him, he would + take another trip to Sydney, and then—well, he could at least ask + her. If she said no, why, who was there to chaff him? He was not a + communicative man, had very few intimate men friends, and the few women + whom he knew were not the sort he could possibly talk to about a lady. + Both his parents had died before he was ten years of age, leaving him + utterly alone in the world. Born in a bush town, in the interior of New + South Wales, he had turned to the bush and to the wide, open, grassy + plains, as an infant would have turned to its mother in its distress; and + the bush and the plains and the grey mountain ranges had taken him to + their bosoms; and the silent, reserved boy became the resolute, hardy + bushman, stock-rider, and then miner—a man fit and ready to meet the + emergencies of his rough life. Of the outside world he was as ignorant as + a child, as indeed were most of the men with whom for many years he had + associated. But there was nothing despicable in his ignorance; and when as + time went on, and his improved circumstances threw him in contact with men + and women of refinement and culture, he was quick to take advantage of + such opportunities; but the honest, simple nature of the man always + remained the same. + </p> + <p> + Before he was thirty, Harrington was known as one of the most experienced + and fortunate over-lander drovers in Australia, and he became as familiar + with the long and lonely stock-route from the stations on the Gulf of + Carpentaria to Sydney and Melbourne, in his many journeys, as if it were a + main road in an English county. + </p> + <p> + At the conclusion of one of these tedious drives of seven months' + duration, the brown-faced, quiet drover was asked by an acquaintance with + whom he had business transactions, to spend the evening with him at his + house. He went, and there met Myra Lyndon. He was attracted by her bright + manner and smiling face, and when she questioned him about his life in the + Far North, his adventures among the blacks, and the many perils of a + drover's existence, he thought her the fairest and sweetest woman in the + world. And Miss Myra Lyndon encouraged him in his admiration. Not that she + cared for him in the least She had not reached eight-and-twenty years of + age to throw herself away on a man who had no other ambition than to + become a squatter and live amongst a lot of “horrid bellowing cattle.” But + he was nice to talk to, though terribly stupid about some things, and so + she did not mind writing to him once or twice—it would reward him + for the horse he had one day sent to her father with a lamely worded note, + saying that it was one of a mob he had just bought at the saleyards, and + as he had no use for a lady's hack, he thought that perhaps Miss Lyndon + would be so kind as to accept it Mr. Lyndon smiled as he read the note, he + knew that drovers did not usually buy ladies' hacks; but being a man + harassed to death with an expensive family, he was not disposed to + discourage Harrington's attentions to Myra; though, having a conscience, + he felt that Jack Harrington was too good a man for such a useless, + empty-brained, and selfish creature as his eldest daughter. + </p> + <p> + So Harrington went back to his “bellowing bullocks,” and then, having + saved enough money, bought the very run he had so often wished he could + buy; and “Jack” Harrington, the overlander, became “Mr.” John Harrington, + the pastoralist and owner of Tinandra Downs, and then the vision of Myra + Lyndon's face came to him very often—now that he was so prosperous. + </p> + <p> + One day he told his overseer that he was going to Sydney for a trip, and + being a man of action, packed his valise, mounted his horse, and rode off + on his journey of five hundred miles to the nearest seaport where he could + take passage for Sydney. + </p> + <p> + For the first week or so after his arrival in the city, he “mooned” about + doing nothing, and trying to pluck up courage enough to go to Myra Lyndon + to ask her to be his wife. He had called several times upon her father and + discussed business matters with him; but beyond inquiring after “Mrs. + Lyndon and the Misses Lyndon,” had said nothing further, and in a nervous, + shamefaced manner had each time accepted Mr. Lyndon's invitation to “come + and see the girls before he went back to the North,” but had not had the + courage to go. Next week, or the week after that, would do, he thought. If + she said “No,” he wouldn't feel it so much—once he was on his way + North again in the old <i>Florence Irving</i>; he would put it off till + just as he was ready to start. Then if she said “Yes,” he would stay in + Sydney as long as his love wished—a month—aye, six months, so + long as she came back with him to Tinandra Downs. And Myra Lyndon, who + knew from her father that her “bullock-driver admirer,” as she had + mockingly called him to her friends, was in Sydney, waited for him + impatiently. A systematic course of jilting and being jilted had made her + feel anxious as to her future, and gall and wormwood had come to her now + that her two younger sisters had married before her, and left her, as her + somewhat acidulous-tongued mother said, “the Lyndon family wallflower.” + She meant to marry him, spend a year or so among the “beastly bellowing + cattle,” and then return to Sydney, where as Mrs. Harrington, the wealthy + squatter's wife, she could enjoy herself thoroughly, snub some of the + women she hated, and flirt with some of the men she liked. + </p> + <p> + Late one night, Harrington, sauntering from the theatre to his hotel, met, + to his intense astonishment, a man he knew—had known years before + when he (Harrington) was a drover and the other man—Walters—was + a mounted trooper in the Queensland police. + </p> + <p> + They shook hands warmly, and then Walters said, “Come along with me, Jack, + to the Water Police Station; we can have a yarn there.... Oh, yes, I'm a + Sydney man now—a full-fledged inspector of police... tell you all + about it by and by. But, push along, old man. One of my men has just told + me that a woman who jumped off the Circular Quay and tried to drown + herself, is lying at the station, and is not expected to pull through. + Hallo! here's a cab! Jump in, Jack; there's some whisky in the sergeant's + room, and after I've seen the cadaver—if she has cadavered—we'll + have a right down good yarn.” + </p> + <p> + The cab rattled through the now almost deserted street, and in a few + minutes Harrington and his friend alighted at a small stone building + overlooking the waters of Sydney Harbour. A water-policeman, who stood at + the door under the big gas-lamp, saluted the inspector and then showed + Harrington into the sergeant's room. + </p> + <p> + Ten minutes passed, and then Walters, accompanied by a big, stout, + red-faced man, came in. + </p> + <p> + “Ha, here you are, old man. Jack, Dr. Parsons—the man who does the + resuscitating and such silly business of this institution; Parsons, my old + friend, Jack Harrington. Sergeant, where is that whisky?” + </p> + <p> + “Is the woman dead, doctor?” asked Harrington presently, as the sergeant's + wife brought in a bottle of whisky and some glasses. + </p> + <p> + “No,” replied the police doctor slowly, as he poured some whisky into his + glass, “she is not dead; but she may not live much longer—a day or + so perhaps. It all depends. Shock to the system.” + </p> + <p> + “One of the usual sort, Parsons, I suppose?” inquired Walters—“left + the baby on the wharf, with a written request for some 'kind Christian to + love it,' eh?” + </p> + <p> + The fat doctor grunted. “You're a beast, Walters. There's no baby in the + case. Here, give me ten shillings—you'll spend more than that in + drinks before you go to bed to-night This girl <i>isn't</i> one of the + usual sort. She's a lady—and she's been starving. So ante-up, you + ex-nigger-shooting Queensland policeman; and I'll add another half-sov. + Then perhaps your friend will give me something for her. And I'm not going + to send her off to the hospital. I'm going to take her to some people I + know, and ask them to keep her for a few days until she gets round.” + </p> + <p> + Harrington put his hand in his pocket, and then in a nervous, diffident + way, looking first at Walters and then at the doctor, put five sovereigns + on the table. + </p> + <p> + “I'm pretty flush now, you know.... I'm not a plunger, but I shall be + glad, doctor, if you will take that and give it to her.... I was almost + starving myself once—-<i>you</i> know, Walters, when I got the sack + from the 'Morning Star' Mine for plugging the English manager when he + called me a 'damned colonial lout.'” + </p> + <p> + The fat-faced doctor looked steadily at him for a moment or two. Then he + reached out his hand. + </p> + <p> + “You're a good fellow, Mr. Harrington. I'll take a sovereign or two. Come + in here with me.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III + </h2> + <p> + Harrington followed him into an adjoining room, where, upon a wicker-work + couch was reclining the figure of a young girl. Standing beside her was + the police-sergeant's wife, who, as soon as the two men came in, quietly + drew aside. + </p> + <p> + “Now, here I am back again, my dear child,” said the doctor + good-humouredly, “and here is a very old friend of mine, Mr. Jack + Harrington; and we have come to cheer you up and tell you that you have + two or three good friends. And we won't let any women or parsons come to + you and worry you, and tell you that you have been a wicked girl, and + ought to have thrown yourself upon God's mercy and all that sort of thing. + So just drink that coffee, and then by and by we will take you to some + people I know well, and you shall come and tell us in a day or two how + sorry you are for being so foolish.” + </p> + <p> + The girl's dark hazel eyes looked steadily at them both; then she put out + a thin white hand. + </p> + <p> + “You are very kind to me. I know it was very wicked to try and kill + myself, but I was so lonely, and... and I had not eaten anything since + Wednesday... and I wanted to die.” Then she covered her face and sobbed + softly, whilst the doctor patted her on the shoulder and said— + </p> + <p> + “Don't worry, little girl; you are in good hands now. Never mind Mrs. + Thornton and her un-kindness. You are better away from her—isn't + she, Mr. Harrington?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Harrington, knowing nothing about Mrs. Thornton, promptly said “Oh, + most certainly,” and the girl's eyes met his for a second, and a faint + smile flushed upon her pale lips. The tall, bearded, and brown-faced man's + face seemed so full of pity. + </p> + <p> + “Now you must go to sleep for an hour or two,” said the doctor + imperatively; “so now then, little girl, 'seepy-by, beddy-bo.' That's what + <i>my</i> mother used to say to me.” + </p> + <p> + Harrington followed the doctor out into the sergeant's room, where + Inspector Walters, with his heels upon the table, was falling asleep. + </p> + <p> + “Sit down a moment, Mr. Harrington,” said Dr. Parsons, taking up a book + which the sergeant had left upon the table; “this is a sad case. Here is a + girl, Nellie Alleyne, age 19, nursery governess to Mrs. Lavery-Thornton, + of Waverly, jumped into the water off the Quay; rescued by Water-police + Constables Casey and Boyce.” + </p> + <p> + Harrington nodded. + </p> + <p> + “This girl has told me her story. She is alone and friendless in Sydney. + She came out to Australia when she was seventeen, got a billet with this + Mrs. Lavery-Thornton—who seems to be a perfect brute of a woman—suffered + a two years' martyrdom, and then was dismissed from her situation with the + large sum of twenty-two shillings in her pocket Tried to get another such + position, but people wouldn't take her without a recommendation from her + last place. The Thornton woman wouldn't give her one; said she was too + independent. High-spirited girl with twenty-two shillings between her and + starvation, wanders about from one registry office to another for a couple + of weeks, living in a room in a Miller's Point slum; money all gone; + pestered by brutes in the usual way, jumps into the water to end her + miseries. Rough, isn't it?” + </p> + <p> + Harrington nodded. “Poor thing! I should like you, Dr. Parsons, to—to + let her know that she <i>has</i> friends. Will you let me help. Fifty + pounds or a hundred pounds won't hurt me... and I've been stone-broke + myself. But a man can always peg along in the bush; and it's an awful + thing for a child like that to be adrift in a big city.” + </p> + <p> + The kind-hearted police doctor looked steadily into Harrington's face for + a moment, then he said quietly— + </p> + <p> + “An awful thing indeed. But there are some good men in the world, Mr. + Harrington, who are able and willing to save pure souls from destruction. + You are one of them. Tom Walters and myself are both hard-up devils—we + see a lot of misery, but can do nothing to alleviate it; a few shillings + is all we can give.” + </p> + <p> + Harrington rose, and his sun-tanned face flushed as he drew out his + cheque-book. “I never try to shove myself in, in such matters as these, + doctor, but I should feel pleased if you will let me help.” + </p> + <p> + Then he wrote out a cheque for fifty pounds, pushed it over to the doctor, + said he thought it was getting late, and that he had better get back to + his hotel. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Parsons gave the sleeping inspector a shake, and in a few words told + him what Harrington had done. + </p> + <p> + “You're a dashed fool, old man,” said Walters sleepily to Harrington; + “most likely she'll blue your fifty quid, and then blackmail——” + </p> + <p> + The doctor's hand descended upon the inspector's shoulder. “Shut up, you + beastly old wretch—do you think <i>all</i> women are alike. Come, + now, let us have another nip and get away. Mr. Harrington is tired. + Sergeant!” + </p> + <p> + The sergeant came to the door. + </p> + <p> + “Thompson, take good care of that young <i>lady</i>. We happen to know + her. If she awakes before eight o'clock in the morning, tell her that she + is to stay with your wife till I come to see her at nine o'clock. Any + effects, sergeant?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” and the sergeant took out his note-book, “seven pawn tickets, + five pennies, and a New Testament with 'Nellie Alleyne' written inside.” + </p> + <p> + “Here, give me those tickets, I'll take care of them; and Thompson, if the + newspaper fellows come here to-night, say that the young lady fell over + the wharf accidentally, and has gone home to her friends. See?” + </p> + <p> + “I see, sir,” said Thompson, as the good-hearted doctor slipped half a + sovereign into his hand. + </p> + <p> + Then the three men stepped out into the street and strolled up to the + Royal Hotel, and sat down in the smoking-room, which was filled with a + noisy crowd, some of whom soon saw Walters and called him away, leaving + the doctor and Harrington by themselves. + </p> + <p> + “Better take this back, Mr. Harrington,” and Dr. Parsons handed him his + cheque. “Two or three pounds will be quite enough for the poor girl.” + </p> + <p> + “Not I,” said Harrington with a smile, “fifty pounds won't ruin me, as I + said—and it may mean a lot to her, poor child. And I feel glad that + I can help some one... some one who is all right, you know. Now I must be + off. Good night, doctor.” + </p> + <p> + Parsons looked at the tall manly figure as he pushed his way through the + noisy crowd in the smoking-room, and then at the cheque in his hand. + “Well, there's a good fellow. Single man, I'll bet; else he wouldn't be so + good to a poor little devil of a stranded girl. Didn't even ask her name. + May the Lord send him a good wife.” + </p> + <p> + The Lord did not send Harrington a good wife; for the very next day he + called upon Mrs. Lyndon, and Mrs. Lyndon took good care that he should be + left alone with Myra; and Myra smiled so sweetly at him, when with + outstretched hands she came into the drawing-room, that he fatuously + believed she loved him. And she of course, when he asked her to be his + wife, hid her face on his shoulder, and said she could not understand why + he could love <i>her</i>. Why, she was quite an old maid! Amy and Gwen + were ever so much prettier than she, and she was sure that both Gwen and + Amy, even though they were now both married, would feel jealous when they + knew that big, handsome Jack Harrington had asked her to be his wife; and + so on and so forth, as only the skilled woman of thirty, whose hopes of + marriage are slipping by, knows how to talk and lie to an “eligible” man + unused to women's ways. And Harrington kissed Myra's somewhat thin lips, + and said—and believed—that he was the happiest man in + Australia. Then Mrs. Lyndon came in, and, in the manner of mothers who are + bursting with joy at getting rid of a daughter whose matrimonial prospects + are looking gloomy, metaphorically fell upon Harrington's neck and wept + down his back, and said he was robbing her of her dearest treasure, &c., + &c. Harrington, knowing nothing of conventional women's ways, believed + her, and married, for him, the most unsuitable woman in the world. + </p> + <p> + A week or so after his marriage he received a letter from Dr. Parsons + enclosing the cheque he had given him for Nellie Alleyne:— + </p> + <p> + “Dear Harrington,—Girl won't take the cheque. Has a billet—cashier + in a restaurant. Says she is writing to you. She's true gold. You ought to + marry her and take her away with you to your outlandish parts. Would ask + her to marry me—if I could keep her; but she wouldn't have me whilst + you are about. Always glad to see you at my diggings; whisky and soda and + such, and a hearty welcome.” + </p> + <p> + And by the same post came a letter from the girl herself—a letter + that, simply worded as it was, sent an honest glow through his heart:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Dear Mr. Harrington,—I shall never, never forget your + kindness to me; as long as I live I shall never forget Dr. + Parsons tells me that you live in Queensland—more than a + thousand miles from Sydney, and that you are going away + soon. Please will you let me call on you before you go away? + I shall be so unhappy if I do not see you again, because in + a letter I <i>cannot</i> tell you how I thank you, how deeply + grateful I am to you for your goodness and generosity to me. + “Yours very sincerely, + + “Helen Alleyne.” + </pre> + <p> + Harrington showed the letter to Myra, who bubbled over with pretty + expressions of sympathy and wrote and asked her to call. Nellie did call, + and the result of her visit was that when Harrington took his newly + married wife to Tinandra Downs, she went with her as companion. And from + the day that she entered the door of his house, Helen Alleyne had proved + herself to be, as Dr. Parsons had said, “true gold.” As the first bright + years of prosperity vanished, and the drought and financial worries all + but crushed Harrington under the weight of his misfortunes, and his + complaining, irritable wife rendered his existence at home almost + unbearable, her brave spirit kept his from sinking under the incessant + strain of his anxieties. Mrs. Harrington, after her third child was born, + had given up even the semblance of attending to the children, and left + them to Nellie and the servants. She was doing quite enough, she once told + her husband bitterly, in staying with him at such a horrible place in such + a horrible country. But she nevertheless always went away to the sea-coast + during the hottest months, and succeeded in having a considerable amount + of enjoyment, leaving the children and Jack and Miss Alleyne to swelter + through the summer at Tinandra Downs as best they could. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV + </h2> + <p> + It was nearly midnight as Harrington took down the slip-rails and led his + horse through the paddock up to the house, which, except for a dimly + burning lamp in the dining-room, was in darkness. The atmosphere was close + and sultry, and the perspiration ran down his skin in streams as he gave + his horse to the head-stockman, who was sitting on the verandah awaiting + him. + </p> + <p> + “Terrible night, sir, but I'm thinking if it keeps on like this for + another hour or two we'll get a big thunderstorm. 'Sugar-bag'” (one of the + black boys) “was here just now and says that the ant-heaps about are + covered with ants—that's a sure sign, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “God send it so, Banks! If no rain comes within two days, you'll have to + start away for Cleveland Bay with Mrs. Harrington and Miss Alleyne and the + children. We must find horses somehow to take them there.” + </p> + <p> + Before Banks led the horse away for a drink, he stopped. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Alleyne went to Canton Reef, sir, this morning with little Sandy. + She ought to have been here before dark, but I expect the horses knocked + up. There's a couple of cows with young calves there, so Sandy says, and + Miss Alleyne said she would try and bring them in if I would let her take + Sandy. We've had no milk, sir, for the children since Tuesday, and Miss + Alleyne said that you would be vexed. I would have gone myself, sir, but I + couldn't well leave, and I know Miss Alleyne will manage—it's only + fifteen miles, and Sandy says that the two cows and calves are pretty fat + and can travel; there's a bit of feed at those waterholes about the + Canton. Most likely she and the little black boy have yarded the cows at + the Seven-mile Hut and are camping there for the night But I'll start off + now, sir. I've got Peter the Pig already saddled.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, Banks, certainly. Why didn't you start long ago?” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Harrington said I must wait for you, sir,” the man answered somewhat + sullenly. + </p> + <p> + Harrington nodded. “Hurry up, Banks; but here, take a glass of grog + first.” + </p> + <p> + He watched the stockman disappear down the dusty track to the slip-rails, + then he went inside, and sitting down at the table buried his face in his + hands. Then, booted and dusty, and tired in mind and body, he slept. + </p> + <p> + An hour had passed, and no sound disturbed the hot oppressive silence of + the night but the heavy breathing of the wearied man. Then through his + dreamless slumber came the murmur of voices, and presently three figures + walked quickly up from the milking-yard towards the house. + </p> + <p> + “He's asleep, miss,” whispered Banks, “he's dog tired But the news you + have got for him will put fresh life into him. Now just you go to him, + miss, and tell him, and then as soon as I have given them cows a drink, + I'll bring you in some tea. Sandy, you little black devil, light a fire in + the kitchen and don't make a noise, or I'll tan your hide, honest.” + </p> + <p> + For a minute or so the girl stood in the doorway of the dining-room, + holding a heavy saddle-pouch, in her hand, her frame trembling with + emotion and physical exhaustion; and trying to speak. As soon as she could + speak, she walked over to the sleeping man and touched him on the shoulder + He awoke with a start just as she sank on her knees, and leaning her + elbows on a chair beside him, burst into a fit of hysterical weeping. He + waited for her to recover herself. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I am so glad, so glad, Mr. Harrington! Now you need not give up + Tinandra... and the drought doesn't matter... and oh, I thank God for His + goodness that He has let me help you at last!” She broke off with a + choking sob, and then, with streaming eyes, placed her hand in his. + </p> + <p> + Harrington lifted her up and placed her on a couch. “Lie there, Miss + Alleyne. I will call Mrs. Harrington——” + </p> + <p> + She put out her hand beseechingly. “Please <i>don't</i>, Mr. Harrington. + She is not at all strong, and I think I made her very angry this morning + by going away to look for the milkers.... But look, Mr. Harrington, look + inside the saddle pouch.” Then she sat up, and her eyes burnt with + feverish expectation, “Quick, quick, please,” and then she began to laugh + wildly, but clenching her hands tightly together she overcame her + hysteria, and attempted to speak calmly. + </p> + <p> + “I shall be better in a minute... empty it out on the table, please... + Banks says it is another outcrop of the old Canton Reef.” + </p> + <p> + Harrington picked up the saddle-pouch, and putting it on the table, turned + up the lamp, and unfastened the straps; it was filled with pieces of rough + weather-worn quartz thickly impregnated with gold. The largest piece + contained more gold than quartz, and an involuntary cry of astonishment + and admiration burst from his lips as he held it to the light. + </p> + <p> + Nellie's eyes sparkled with joy. “Isn't it lovely! I can't talk, my lips + are so dry.” + </p> + <p> + Harrington dashed outside to the verandah filled a glass from the canvas + water-bag hanging from a beam overhead, and gave it to the exhausted girl. + </p> + <p> + “Now don't you attempt to speak for five minutes.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I won't,” she said, with a faint smile, as she drank off the cold + water—and then at once began to tell him of her discovery. + </p> + <p> + “Sandy and I found the two cows and calves a mile this side of the Canton + Reef in a gully, but before we could head them off they had got away into + the ironbark ridges. Sandy told me to wait, and galloped after them. I + followed him to the top of the first ridge, and then pulled up, and there, + right under my horse's feet I saw a small 'blow' of quartz sticking up out + of the baked ground, and I saw the gold in it quite plainly. Of course I + was wildly excited, and jumped off. The stone was quite loose and crumbly, + and I actually pulled some pieces away with my hands, and when I saw the + thick yellow gold running all through it I sat down and cried. Then I + became so frightened that Sandy might not find me again, for it would be + dark in another hour, and so I ran up and down along the ridge, listening + for the sound of his stockwhip. And then I went back towards the outcrop + of the reef again, and half-way down I picked up that big lump—it + was half buried in the ground.... And oh, Mr. Harrington, all that ridge + is covered with it... I could have brought away as much again, but Sandy + had no saddle-pouch... and I was dying to come home and tell you.” + </p> + <p> + She breathed pantingly for a few minutes. + </p> + <p> + “It was nearly dark when Sandy came back. He had run the cattle on to a + camp about three miles away.... I don't know which pleased me most, to get + the cows so that poor Mable and Harry can have some milk in the morning, + or the gold.... Banks met us half-way from the Seven-mile Hut, and took me + off my horse and put me in front of him.” + </p> + <p> + Banks came to the door, carrying a tray with a cup of tea and some food. + “Here ye are, Miss Alleyne; ye're a born stockman, an' a prospector, an'—God + bless you, miss, <i>you've brought the rain as well</i>.” + </p> + <p> + For as the rough, hairy-faced stockman began to speak, a low rumbling + sound of thunder smote the silence of the night, followed by a loud + appalling clap, and then another, and another, and presently a cooling + blast of wind came through the open door, and stirred and shook the + Venetian blinds hanging outside. Banks almost dropped the tea-tray, and + then darting outside, dashed his cabbage-tree hat on the ground, and began + to dance as the first heavy drops of the coming deluge fell upon his head. + </p> + <p> + In less than ten minutes, Harrington, with silent joy in his heart, was + standing at the doorway, watching the descending torrents of rain—that + rain which to his bushman's heart meant more than all the gold which lay + beneath the earth. He had, as it first began to fall, rushed into his + wife's bedroom, and kissed her and the terrified children. + </p> + <p> + “The rain has come, Myra, thank God,” he said, and then he added quietly, + “I have more good news for you in the morning.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Harrington said she was quite aware of the rain having come—the + disgusting noise of the thunder had made the children scream. Had Miss + Alleyne come back? And brought the cows? His other good news could keep + till the morning. + </p> + <p> + Harrington turned away from her with a feeling of dulled resentment. <i>He</i> + knew what the girl had suffered, and his wife's heartlessness cut him to + the quick. + </p> + <p> + As he stood watching Banks and the black boys filling every available tank + and cask on the station from the downpour off the roof, Nellie rose from + the couch on which she had been lying, and touched his arm timidly. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you believe in God's goodness <i>now</i>, Mr. Harrington? See, He + has sent the rain, and He has granted my daily prayer to Him that I, too, + might help you. And Banks says that this is not a passing thunderstorm, + but that the drought has broken up altogether—for see, the wind is + from the south.” + </p> + <p> + Harrington raised her hand to his lips. “I have always tried to believe in + God and in His mercy, Miss Alleyne.” + </p> + <p> + “Not always, Mr. Harrington,” she said softly. “Don't you remember when + all the Big Swamp! mob were bogged and dying, that you said that if He + would not hear the moans and see the agonies of the beasts He had created, + that He would not listen to the prayers of human beings who were not + suffering as they suffered? And to-day, as Sandy and I rode along to the + Canton Reef, I prayed again and again, and always when I passed a dying + beast I said, '<i>O God! have mercy upon these Thy dumb creatures who + suffer much agony!</i>” + </p> + <p> + Harrington's chest heaved. “And I prayed as you prayed, Miss Alleyne; but + I said, 'O God! if there is a God.'” + </p> + <p> + She put out her hand to him and her dark eyes filled with tears. “He has + answered our prayers.... And now, good night... I wish I could go out into + the rain; I feel I could dance for joy.... Mr. Harrington, <i>do</i> let + me go to the Canton Reef with you to-morrow. Everything will be all right + to-morrow, won't it? But there, how thoughtless I am.... I am going to + milk those two cunning cows till they are dry; poor little Harry does so + want some fresh milk. Good night, Mr. Harrington; I shall sleep happily + to-night—everything will be all right to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + At breakfast-time next morning the rain was still falling steadily, and + Mrs. Harrington decided to join her husband at the morning meal. + </p> + <p> + Harrington rode up to the door and smiled brightly at his wife. “Waiting + for me, dear? I won't be long. The river is running now, Myra—running + after two years! I'm off to Miss Alleyne's reef as soon as I've had a bit + of tucker. Where is she?” + </p> + <p> + “In bed, I presume,” said Mrs. Harrington acidulously. “She might have + remembered that I was very much upset last night by that horrible thunder, + and have risen earlier and attended to the children.” + </p> + <p> + A look of intense disgust came over her husband's face. + </p> + <p> + “Myra, the girl was done-up, dead beat! Won't you go and see if she is + able to get up?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Harrington rose stiffly. “Oh, certainly, if you wish it. But I think + it is a great mistake. She really ought to have considered the children, + and——” + </p> + <p> + The head stockman's wife met her at the door, and looking past her + mistress, spoke to Harrington in terrified tones——- + </p> + <p> + “Miss Alleyne is dead, sir!” + </p> + <p> + Harrington sprang from his chair. “Dead, Mrs. Banks!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. I was only just in time. She on'y sez, 'Tell Mr. Harrington + that I am so glad that everythink will be all right now.' An' then she + smiled, sir, and sez as I was to kiss Master Harry and Miss Mabel for her, + as she was agoin'. And then she sez, 'Isn't God good to send the rain, + Mrs. Banks? Everything will be all right now for poor Mr. Harrington—rain + and gold.' Then she just laid quiet for a minute, an' when I looked at her + face again, I saw she was dead.” + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + A year later, Jack Harrington, again one of the wealthiest cattle men in + North Queensland, and the owner of one of the richest gold mines in the + colony, was riding home to his station. Behind him he heard the clatter + and clash of the twenty-stamper battery that on the “Canton Ridge” was + pounding him in so many thousands of pounds a month; before him lay the + sweeping grassy downs and thickly timbered creeks of a now smiling + country. His wife and children had long before returned to the cooler + South, and in his heart was a great loneliness. Not, perhaps, for them, + but because of the memory of the girl whose prayer to the Almighty had + been answered, and who was resting on the bank of the Gilbert under the + shade of a big Leichhardt tree. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of In The Far North, by Louis Becke + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IN THE FAR NORTH *** + +***** This file should be named 25059-h.htm or 25059-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/5/0/5/25059/ + +Produced by David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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