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diff --git a/old/51314-0.txt b/old/51314-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index cd6573e..0000000 --- a/old/51314-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,20670 +0,0 @@ -Project Gutenberg's In Bad Company and other stories, by Rolf Boldrewood - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: In Bad Company and other stories - -Author: Rolf Boldrewood - -Release Date: February 27, 2016 [EBook #51314] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IN BAD COMPANY AND OTHER STORIES *** - - - - -Produced by Richard Tonsing, MWS and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries) - - - - - - - - - - IN BAD COMPANY - - AND OTHER STORIES - - - THE WORKS OF - - ROLF BOLDREWOOD - - UNIFORM EDITION - - _Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d. each._ - - ROBBERY UNDER ARMS. - A COLONIAL REFORMER. - THE MINER'S RIGHT. - A MODERN BUCCANEER. - NEVERMORE. - THE SQUATTER'S DREAM. - A SYDNEY-SIDE SAXON. - OLD MELBOURNE MEMORIES. - MY RUN HOME. - THE SEALSKIN CLOAK. - THE CROOKED STICK; OR, POLLIE'S PROBATION. - PLAIN LIVING. - A ROMANCE OF CANVAS TOWN. - WAR TO THE KNIFE. - BABES IN THE BUSH. - IN BAD COMPANY, AND OTHER STORIES. - * * * * * - THE SPHINX OF EAGLEHAWK: A TALE OF OLD BENDIGO. Fcap. 8vo. 2s. - THE GHOST CAMP; OR, THE AVENGERS. Cr. 8vo. 6s. - - MACMILLAN AND CO., LTD., LONDON. - - - - - IN BAD COMPANY - - AND OTHER STORIES - - - BY - - ROLF BOLDREWOOD - - AUTHOR OF - - 'ROBBERY UNDER ARMS,' 'THE MINER'S RIGHT,' 'THE SQUATTER'S DREAM,' - 'A COLONIAL REFORMER,' ETC. - - - - - London - - MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED - - NEW YORK: THE MACMILLAN COMPANY - - 1903 - - - _All rights reserved_ - - - - - _First Edition 1901_ - - _Re-issue 1903_ - - - - - CONTENTS - - - PAGE - - IN BAD COMPANY 1 - - MORGAN THE BUSHRANGER 135 - - HOW I BECAME A BUTCHER 146 - - MOONLIGHTING ON THE MACQUARIE 165 - - AN AUSTRALIAN ROUGHRIDING CONTEST 174 - - THE MAILMAN'S YARN 182 - - DEAR DERMOT 190 - - THE STORY OF AN OLD LOG-BOOK 199 - - A KANGAROO SHOOT 208 - - FIVE MEN'S LIVES FOR ONE HORSE 214 - - REEDY LAKE STATION 220 - - A FORGOTTEN TRAGEDY 234 - - THE HORSE YOU DON'T SEE NOW 241 - - HOW I BEGAN TO WRITE 249 - - A MOUNTAIN FOREST 255 - - THE FREE SELECTOR—A COMEDIETTA 261 - - BUSH HOSPITALITY 282 - - LAPSED GENTLEFOLK 288 - - SHEARING IN RIVERINA, NEW SOUTH WALES 296 - - ANCIENT SYDNEY 321 - - AFTER LONG YEARS 335 - - IN THE DROVING DAYS 341 - - THE AUSTRALIAN NATIVE-BORN TYPE 351 - - MY SCHOOL DAYS 360 - - SYDNEY FIFTY YEARS AGO 369 - - OLD TIME THOROUGHBREDS 377 - - THE FIRST PORT FAIRY HUNT 387 - - BENDEMEER 398 - - SPORT IN AUSTRALIA 407 - - OLD STOCK-RIDERS 415 - - MOUNT MACEDON 422 - - WALKS ABROAD 430 - - FROM TUMUT TO TUMBERUMBA 437 - - IN THE THROES OF A DROUGHT 444 - - A SPRING SKETCH 449 - - NEW YEAR'S DAY 1886 455 - - A DRY TIME 461 - - AUSTRALIAN COLLIES 466 - - IN THE BLOOM OF THE YEAR 474 - - FALLEN AMONG THIEVES 481 - - A TRANSFORMATION SCENE 491 - - IN BUSHRANGING DAYS 501 - - - - - IN BAD COMPANY - - - CHAPTER I - -Bill Hardwick was as fine a specimen of an Australian as you could find -in a day's march. Active as a cat and strong withal, he was mostly -described as 'a real good all-round chap, that you couldn't put wrong at -any kind of work that a man could be asked to do.' - -He could plough and reap, dig and mow, put up fences and huts, break in -horses and drive bullocks; he could milk cows and help in the dairy as -handily as a woman. These and other accomplishments he was known to -possess, and being a steady, sensible fellow, was always welcome when -work was needed and a good man valued. Besides all this he was the -fastest and the best shearer in the district of Tumut, New South Wales, -where he was born, as had been his father and mother before him. So that -he was a true Australian in every sense of the word. - -It could not be said that the British race had degenerated as far as he -was concerned. Six feet high, broad-chested, light-flanked, and standing -on his legs like a gamecock, he was always ready to fight or work, run, -ride or swim, in fact to tackle any muscular exercise in the world at -the shortest notice. - -Bill had always been temperate, declining to spend his earnings to -enrich the easy-going township publican, whose mode of gaining a living -struck him as being too far removed from that of honest toil. Such being -his principles and mode of life, he had put by a couple of hundred -pounds, and 'taken up a selection.' This means (in Australia) that he -had conditionally purchased three hundred and twenty acres of Crown -Land, had paid up two shillings per acre of the upset price, leaving the -balance of eighteen shillings, to be paid off when convenient. He had -constructed thereon, chiefly with his own hands, a comfortable, -four-roomed cottage, of the 'slab' architecture of the period, and after -fencing in his property and devoting the proceeds of a couple of -shearings to a modest outlay in furniture, had married Jenny Dawson, a -good-looking, well-conducted young woman, whom he had known ever since -he was big enough to crack a stockwhip. - -In her way she was as clever and capable; exceptionally well adapted for -the position of a farmer's wife, towards which occupation her birth and -surroundings had tended. She was strong and enduring in her way, as were -her husband and brothers in theirs. She could milk cows and make -excellent butter, wasn't afraid of a turbulent heifer in the dairy herd, -or indisposed to rise before daylight in the winter mornings and drive -in the milkers through the wet or frozen grass. She could catch and -saddle her own riding-horse or drive the spring cart along an -indifferent road to the country town. She knew all about the rearing of -calves, pigs, and poultry; could salt beef and cure bacon—in a general -way attend to all the details of a farm. Her father had acquired a small -grant in the early colonial days, and from its produce and profits -reared a family of healthy boys and girls. - -They had not been educated up to the State school standard now -considered necessary for every dweller in town or country, but they -could read and write decently; had also such knowledge of arithmetic as -enabled them to keep their modest accounts. Such having been the early -training of Bill's helpmate, it was a fair augury that, with luck and -good conduct, they were as likely as any young couple of their age to -prosper reasonably, so as eventually to acquire a competence, or even, -as indeed not a few of their old friends and neighbours had done, to -attain to that enviable position generally described as 'making a -fortune.' - -For the first few years nothing could have been more promising than the -course of affairs at Chidowla or 'Appletree Flat,' as their homestead -was formerly named, in consequence of the umbrageous growth of the -'angophora' in the meadow by the mountain creek, which bordered their -farm. Bill stayed at home and worked steadily, until he had put in his -crop. He cleared and cultivated a larger piece of ground with each -succeeding year. The seasons were genial, and the rainfall, though -occasionally precarious, did not, during this period, show any -diminution. But annually, before the first spring month came round, Bill -saddled the old mare, and leading a less valuable or perhaps half-broken -young horse, packed his travelling 'swag' upon it and started off for -the shearing. Jenny did not particularly like being left alone for three -months or perhaps four, with no one but the children, for by this time a -sturdy boy and baby girl had been added to the household. But Bill -brought home such a welcome addition to the funds in the shape of the -squatters' cheques, that she hid her uneasiness and discomfort from him, -only hoping, as she said, that some day, if matters went on as they were -going, they would be able to do without the shearing money, and Bill -could afford to stop with his wife and children all the year round. That -was what _she_ would like. - -So time went on, till after one more shearing, Bill began to think about -buying the next selection, which an improvident neighbour would shortly -be forced to sell, owing to his drinking habits and too great fondness -for country race meetings. - -The soil of the land so handily situated was better than their own, and, -as an adjoining farm, could be managed without additional expense. - -The 'improvements' necessary for holding it under the lenient land laws -of New South Wales had been effected. - -They were not particularly valuable, but they had been passed by the -Inspector of Conditional Purchases, who was not too hard on a poor man, -if he made his selection his '_bona fide_ home and residence.' This -condition Mr. Dick Donahue certainly had fulfilled as far as locating -his hard-working wife Bridget and half-a-dozen bare-legged, ragged -children thereon, with very little to eat sometimes, while he was acting -as judge at a bush race meeting, or drinking recklessly at the -public-house in the township. - -So now the end had come. The place was mortgaged up to its full value -with the bank at Talmorah, the manager of which had refused to advance -another shilling upon it. - -The storekeeper, who had a bill of sale over the furniture, horses and -cows, plough, harrow, and winnowing machine, had decided to sell him up. -The butcher and the baker, despairing of getting their bills paid, -declined further orders. Poor Bridget had been lately feeding herself -and the children on milk and potatoes, last year's bacon, and what eggs -the fowls, not too well fed themselves, kindly produced. - -Jenny had helped them many a time, from womanly pity. But for her, they -would often have been without the 'damper' bread, which served to fill -up crevices with the hungry brood—not that she expected return or -payment, but as she said, 'How could I see the poor things hungry, while -we have a snug home and all we can eat and drink?' - -Then she would mentally compare Bill's industry with Dick's neglect, and -a feeling of wifely pride would thrill her heart as she returned to her -comfortable cottage and put her children, always neatly dressed, to -sleep in their clean cots. - -As she sat before the fire, near the trimly-swept hearth, which looked -so pleasant and homely, though there was but a wooden slab chimney -with a stone facing, a vision arose before her of prosperous days when -they would have a ring fence round their own and the Donahues' -farm—perhaps even an 'additional conditional lease,' to be freehold -eventually—afterwards a flock of sheep and who knows what in the years -to come. - -'The Donahues, poor things, would have to sell and go away, that was -certain; _they_ couldn't prevent them being sold up—and, of course, Bill -might as well buy it as another. The bank manager, Mr. Calthorpe, would -sell the place, partly on credit, trusting Bill for the remainder, with -security on both farms, because he was sober and industrious. Indeed, he -told Bill so last week. What a thing it was to have a good name! When -she thought of the way other women's husbands "knocked down" their money -after shearing, forty and fifty pounds, even more, in a week's drunken -bout, she felt that she could not be too thankful. - -'Now Bill, when shearing was over, generally took a small sum in -cash—just enough to see him home, and paid in the cheque for the -season's shearing to his bank account. It was over sixty pounds last -year, for he sold his spare horse—a thirty-shilling colt out of the -pound, that he had broken in himself—to the overseer, for ten guineas, -and rode home on the old mare, who, being fat and frolicsome after her -spell, "carried him and his swag first-rate." - -'As to the two farms, no doubt it would give them all they knew, at -first, to live and pay interest. But other people could do it, and why -shouldn't they? Look at the Mullers! The bark hut they lived in for the -first few years is still there. They kept tools, seed potatoes, odds and -ends in it now. Next, they built a snug four-roomed slab cottage, with -an iron roof. That's used for the kitchen and men's room. For they've -got a fine brick house, with a verandah and grand furniture, and a big -orchard and more land, and a flock of sheep and a dairy and a buggy -and—everything. How I should like a buggy to drive myself and the -children to the township! Wouldn't it be grand? To be sure they're -Germans, and it's well known they work harder and save more than us -natives. But what one man and woman can do, another ought to be able -for, I say!' - -And here Jenny shut her mouth with a resolute expression and worked away -at her needle till bedtime. Things were going on comfortably with this -meritorious young couple, and Bill was getting ready to start for the -annual trip 'down the river,' as it was generally described. This was a -region distant three hundred miles from the agricultural district where -the little homestead had been created. The 'down the river' woolsheds -were larger and less strictly managed (so report said) than those of the -more temperate region, which lay near the sources of the great rivers. -In some of them as many as one hundred, two hundred, even three hundred -thousand sheep were annually shorn. And as the fast shearers would do -from a hundred to a hundred and fifty sheep per day, it may be -calculated, at the rate of one pound per hundred, what a nice little -cheque would be coming to every man after a season's shearing. More -particularly if the weather was fine. - -Bill was getting ready to start on the following morning when a man -named Janus Stoate arrived, whom he knew pretty well, having more than -once shorn in the same shed with him. - -He was a cleverish, talkative fellow, with some ability and more -assurance, qualities which attract steady-going, unimaginative men like -Bill, who at once invited him to stay till the morning, when they could -travel together. Stoate cheerfully assented, and on the morrow they took -the road after breakfast, much to Mrs. Hardwick's annoyance, who did not -care for the arrangement. For, with feminine intuition, she distrusted -Janus Stoate, about whom she and her husband had had arguments. - -He was a Londoner—an 'assisted' emigrant, a radical socialist, brought -out at the expense of the colony. For which service he was so little -grateful that he spoke disrespectfully of all the authorities, from the -Governor downward, and indeed, as it seemed to her, of respectable -people of every rank and condition. Now Jenny, besides being naturally -an intelligent young woman, utilised her leisure hours during her -husband's absence, for reading the newspapers, as well as any books she -could get at. She had indeed more brains than he had, which gift she -owed to an Irish grandmother. And though she did by no means attempt to -rule him, her advice was always listened to and considered. - -'I wish you were going with some one else,' she said with an air of -vexation. 'It's strange that that Stoate should come, just on your last -evening at home. I don't like him a little bit. He's just artful enough -to persuade you men that he's going to do something great with this -"Australian Shearers' Union" that I see so much about in the newspapers. -I don't believe in him, and so I tell you, Bill!' - -'I know you don't like Unions,' he answered, 'but see what they've done -for the working classes! What could we shearers have done without ours?' - -'Just what you did before you had anything to do with him and his Union. -Do your work and get paid for it. You got your shearing money all right, -didn't you? Mr. Templemore's cheques, and Mr. Dickson's and Mr. Shand's, -were always paid, weren't they? How should we have got the land and this -home, but for them?' - -'Well, but, Jenny, we ought to think about the other workers as well as -ourselves—"Every man should stand by his order," as Stoate says.' - -'I don't see that at all. Charity's all very well, but we have our own -business to look after and let other people mind theirs. Order, indeed! -I call it disorder,—and them that work it up will have to pay for it, -mark my words. You look at those children, William Hardwick, that's -where you've got to give your money to, and your wife, and not a lot of -gassing spouters like Janus Stoate, who don't care if their families -starve, while they're drinking and smoking, talking rubbish, and -thinking themselves fine fellows, and what fools you and the rest are to -pay them for it.' - -'Well, but the squatters are lowering the price of shearing, Jenny; we -must make a stand against that, surely!' - -'And suppose they do. Isn't wool falling, and sheep too? Aren't they -boiling down their ewes, and selling legs of mutton for a shilling -apiece? Why should they go on paying a pound a hundred when everything's -down? When prices rise, shearing'll go up again, and wages too—you know -we can get mutton now for a penny a pound. Doesn't that make a -difference? You men seem to have no sense in you, to talk in that way!' - -'Well, but what are we to do? If they go on cutting down wages, there's -no saying what they'll do next.' - -'Time enough to think about that when it comes. You take a fair thing, -now that times are bad, it'll help them that's helped you, and when they -get better, shearing and everything else will go up too. You can't get -big wages out of small profits; your friends don't seem to have gumption -enough to see that. I'm ashamed of you, I really am, Bill!' - -'Well, I must go now—I daresay the squatters will give in, and there'll -be no row at all.' - -'What do you want to have a row for, I should like to know? Haven't you -always been well treated and well fed, and well paid?—and now you want -to turn on them that did it for you, just as if you were one of those -larrikins and spielers, that come up partly for work, and more for -gambling and stealing! I say it's downright ungrateful and foolish -besides—and if you follow all the Union fads, mark my words, you'll live -to rue the day.' - -'Well, good-bye, Jenny, I can't stop any longer, you're too set up to be -reasonable.' - -'Good-bye, Bill, and don't be going and running risks at another man's -bidding; and if you bring that man here again, as sure as my name's Jane -Hardwick, I'll set the dogs on him.' And here Jenny went into the -cottage, and shut the door with a bang, while Bill rode down the track -to join his companion, feeling distinctly uncomfortable; the more so, as -he reflected that he and Jenny had never parted in this way before. - -'You've been a long time saying good-bye,' said that gentleman, with a -sneering accent in his voice; 'that's the worst of bein' married, you -never can follow your own opinions without a lot of barneyin' and -opposition. It's a curious thing that women never seem to be on the side -of progress—they're that narrow-minded, as they don't look ahead of the -day's work.' - -'My old woman's more given to look ahead than I am,' said Bill -seriously. 'But, of course, we all know that we must stick together, if -we expect to get anything out of the employers.' - -'Yes, yes—by George, you're quite right,' said Stoate, as if Bill had -enunciated an original and brilliant idea. 'What I and the workers want -is to bring the capitalists on their knees—the labour element has never -had its proper share of profits in the past. But we're going to have -things different in the future. How was all the big estates put -together, and them fine houses built, except by _our_ labour? And what -do we get after all, now the work's done? We've never had our fair -share. Don't you see that?' Here he looked at Bill, who could find -nothing to say but— - -'I suppose not.' - -'Suppose not? We've as much right to be ridin' in our buggies as the man -as just passed us with that slashin' pair. Our labour made the land -valuable—built the houses and put up the fences. Where do _we_ come in, -I ask you?' - -'Well, I suppose the men that worked got their wages, didn't they?' -answered Bill. 'There's been a deal of employment the last few years. I -did pretty well out of a fencing contract, I know, and my mate started a -big selection from his share.' - -'Yes, yes, I daresay, that's where you fellers make the mistake. If you -get a few pounds slung to you by these capitalists, you don't think of -the other poor chaps walkin' about half starved, begging a meal here and -a night's lodging there. What we ought to go in for is a co-operative -national movement. That's the easiest of all. One man to find the -money.' - -'Is it?' Bill could not help saying, interrupting the flood of Stoate's -eloquence. 'I've always found it dashed hard to find a few pounds.' - -'I don't mean fellers like us; we work hard—a dashed sight too hard for -all we get. I mean the regular professional capitalist, in a manner of -speakin', that's got his money by buying land, when the Government -oughtn't never to have sold it, if they'd had any savey, or had it left -him by his father, as had robbed the people some other way. Well, he -finds the money, you and I the muscle—and mark you, they can't do -nothin' without _that_—and others, smartish chaps as comes from the -people mostly, finds the brains.' - -'And what after that?' - -'That's what I'm a-coming to,' answered Stoate pompously. 'When the -sheep's shorn, the fat ones sold, the wheat reaped, and the money put in -the bank, we all divide fair, according to our shares. So much for -interest on capital, so much for labouring work, so much for head work, -so much for light, easy things like clerking, as most any fool can do.' - -'That sounds pretty fair,' replied Bill, scratching his head, as he -endeavoured to grasp the complex conditions of the scheme. 'But who's to -boss the whole thing? There must be a boss?' - -'Oh, of course, there'll be a council—elected by the people—that is of -course the shareholders in each industrial, co-operative establishment; -they all have votes, you know. The council will do all the bossing.' - -'Oh, I see, and all share alike. One man's as good as another, I -suppose.' - -'Certainly, all have equal rights; every man willing to work has a right -to have work found for him by the State.' - -'But suppose he won't work when it _is_ found for him? You and I have -known plenty of coves like that.' - -'Well, of course, there _is_ a difference in men—some haven't the -natural gift, as you may say—don't care for "hard graft," but you must -remember no one'll have to work hard when labour's federated.' - -'How'll the work be done, then?' - -'Why, you see, every one will have to do four or six hours a day, rich -and poor, young and old, from sixteen to sixty. Before that their -eddication [Mr. Stoate's early environment—his father was a radical -cobbler—had fixed his pronunciation of that important word inexorably], -this eddication, I say (which is the great thing for a worker, and -enables him to hold his own against the employers, who've always had a -monopoly of it), has to be attended to. After sixty, they've to be -pensioned off, not wanted to do no more work. And as Bellamy says in his -_Looking Backward_ (a great book, as all our chaps ought to read)—"If -every one in the State worked their four hours a day, the whole work of -the world could be easy done, and no one the worse for it."' - -'That sounds well enough,' said Bill thoughtfully, 'but I'm afraid it -wouldn't wash. A lot of chaps would be trying for the easy parts, and -those that were cast for the rough and tumble wouldn't do it with a -will, or only half and half. And who's to draft 'em off? The fellers -elected to do it would have all the say, and if they had a down on a -chap—perhaps a deal better man than themselves—they could drop him in -for the lowest billets going.' - -'That could all be set right in the usual way,' replied Stoate, -pompously mouthing his words as if addressing an imaginary audience. -'Every member of the Association would have the right of appeal to the -Grand Council.' - -'And suppose they didn't side with the workin' feller—these talking -chaps, as like as not, would hang together—he'd have to grin and bear -it. He'd be no better than a slave. Worse than things are now. For a man -can get a lawyer, and fight out his case before the P.M., and the other -beaks. They're mostly fair and square—what I've seen of 'em. They've no -interest one way or the other.' - -'No more would the Grand Labour Council.' - -'Don't know so much about that, working coves are middlin' jealous of -one another. If one chap's been elected to the Council, as you call it, -and another feller opposed him and got beat, there's sure to be bad -blood between them, and the man that's up like enough'll want to rub it -into the man that's down—and there'd be no one to see fair play like the -beaks.' - -'Why, you're getting to be a regular "master's man." That's not the way -to talk, if you're goin' to be a Unionist.' - -'Oh, I'll follow the Union,' replied Bill, 'if things are going to be -fair and square, not any other way, and so I tell you. But if it's such -a jolly good thing to put your money in a station and share and share -alike with all the other chaps, why don't some of you Union chaps put -your money together?—lots of you could raise a hundred or more if you -didn't drink it. Then you could shear your own sheep, sell your own -wool, and raise your own bread, meat, vegetables—everything. You could -divide the profits at the end of the year, and if running a squatting -station's such a thundering good thing, why you'd all make fortunes in -no time. What do you say to that now?' - -'Well, of course, it sounds right enough,' answered Stoate, with less -than his usual readiness. 'There's a lot of things to be considered -about afore you put your money into a big thing like that. You've got to -get the proper sort of partners—men as you know something about, and -that can be depended on for to work steady, and do what they're told.' - -'Do what they're told? Why, ain't that the one thing you Union chaps are -fighting the squatters about? They're not to be masters in their own -woolsheds! The shearers and rouseabouts are _not_ to obey the squatters' -overseer, they must work as the Union's delegate tells 'em. What sort of -fake d'ye call that? Suppose I'm harvestin'—my crop's not much now, but -it may be, some day—d'ye mean to say I'm not to talk sharp to my own -men, and say "do this" or "do that"? And a delegate walkin' up and down, -makin' believe to be boss, while I'm payin' for the wages and rations, -and horses and thrashing-machine, and the whole boiling, would I stand -that? No! I'd kick him out of the place, and that dashed soon, I can -tell you!' And here Bill's eyes began to sparkle and his fists to -tighten on the reins as if he itched to 'stand up to his man,' with -steady eye and watchful 'left,' ready for the first chance to 'land' his -adversary. - - * * * * * - -The sun was scarcely an hour high when the wayfarers came in sight of -the village-appearing group of edifices familiarly known as a 'sheep -station.' The 'men's hut' came first into view—a substantial dwelling, -with horizontal sawn slabs and shingled roof, a stone chimney and a -dining-room. Boasting a cook, moreover, of far from ordinary rank. A -superior building, in fact, to the one which the owner of the station -thought good enough for himself for the first few years of his -occupation of North Yalla-doora. - -This was the abiding-place of the resident labourers on the station; men -who received a fixed weekly wage, varying from a pound to twenty-five -shillings per week, with board and lodging additional. The Australian -labourer is catered for on perhaps the most liberal dietary scale in the -world. He is supplied with three meals per diem, of beef or mutton of -the best quality, with bread _à discrétion_, also tea (the ordinary -drink of the country) in unlimited quantity, with milk and vegetables if -procurable. Condiments, sauces, and preserves, if his tastes run that -way, he has to pay for as extras. - -They can be procured, also wearing apparel, boots, and all other -necessaries, at the station store; failing that, at the 'township,' -invariably found within easy distance of any large station. - -Besides the 'men's hut' comes next in rank the 'shearers' hut,' -dedicated to those important and (at shearing time) exclusive -personages; the sheep-washers', the rouseabouts' huts, all necessary -different establishments; as also the 'travellers' hut,' set apart for -the nomadic labourer or 'swagman,' who sojourning but for a night is by -the unwritten law of Bushland provided with bread and meat, cooking -utensils, water, and firewood _gratis_. - -Then, at a certain distance, the woolshed—with half an acre of roofed, -battened yards and pens—the 'big house,' the stable, the horse-yard, the -stock-yard, the milking-yard, with perhaps half-a-dozen additional -nondescript constructions. - -It may easily be imagined that such buildings, scattered and disjointed -as they were, had much more the appearance of a village than of a single -establishment owned, managed, and supported by one man (or one firm), -and absolutely subject to his orders and interest. - -'Might as well stop here to-night,' said Stoate; 'it's twenty-five mile -to Coolah Creek for to-morrow, and the road heavy in places. Look at it! -There's a bloomin' township to belong to one man, and _us_ travellin' -the country looking for work!' - -'It took a lot of labour to put up all the huts and places, not to count -in the shed and yards, you bet,' said his companion, who had been silent -for the last half-hour, 'and many a cheque was drawed afore the last -nail was drove in. I know a chap that's made a small fortune out of Mr. -Templemore's contracts, and that's got a farm to show for it to-day. -What's wrong with that?' - -'Why, don't you see? Suppose the State had this first-rate block of -country, cut it up in fair-sized farms, advanced the men the money to -put up their places and crop it the first year, see what a population it -would keep. Keep in comfort, too,' he continued, as he refilled his pipe -and made ready for a leisurely smoke. 'Let me see, there's fifty -thousand acres of freehold on this North Yalla-doora run, besides as -much more leased. Divide that into nice-sized farms, that'd give us a -thousand fifty-acre lots, or five 'underd 'underd-acre ones. See what a -crowd of families that'd keep.' - -'And suppose there come a dry season,' queried Bill rather gruffly, 'how -about the families then? I've seen the sheep dyin' by hundreds on this -very place—and the whole forty thousand 'd 'a died in another month if -rain hadn't come. But I'm gettin' full up of this Union racket. Small -farms in a dry country's foolishness. Where are we goin' to camp? Look -at the grass on that flat! And I've seen it like a road.' - -'It ain't bad near the creek,' said his companion. 'You can let the -horses go while I go up to the overseer and get a bit of ration.' - -'There's no call to do that. See that bag? My old woman's put bread and -beef enough in that for a week anyhow, besides bacon, and tea, and -sugar.' - -'That's all right,' answered Stoate airily, 'but we may as well get -fresh mutton for nothing. They always give travellers a pound or two -here, and a pannikin of flour. It comes in handy for cakes.' - -'Well, I'm d—d!' said Hardwick, unable to contain his wrathful -astonishment. 'D'ye mean to tell me as you're a-goin' to _beg_ food from -this squatter here and take his charity after abusing him and all -belonging to him and schemin' to ruin 'em? I call it dashed, dirty, -crawling meanness, and for two pins I wouldn't travel the same side of -the road with you, and so I tell you, Janus Stoate.' - -There was a snaky glitter in Stoate's small, black eyes as he met for an -instant the bold gaze of the Australian; but, with characteristic -cunning, he turned it off with a half laugh. - -'Why, Bill, what hot coffee you're a-gettin', all over a little joke -like this 'ere. Now I feel as I've a right to be fed on the road when I -and my feller-workers bring our labour to the door—in a manner of -speakin'. We've no call to think ourselves under obligation to the -squatters for their "miserable dole," as our Head Centre calls it. It's -only our due when all's said and done.' - -'Miserable dole,' growled Bill, now engaged in taking off his pack. -'That's a dashed fine name to give free rations, to the tune of -half-a-dozen sheep a night, and a couple of bags of flour a week, which -I know Tambo did last shearing. A lot of chaps going about the country -askin' for work, and prayin' to God they mayn't find it—and abusin' the -people that feed 'em on top of it all. I wonder the squatters don't stop -feedin' travellers, and that's all about it. I would if I was boss, I -know, except the old men.' - -'How about the sheds and the grass when the weather gets dry?' asked -Stoate, with a sidelong glance of spite. - -'That's easy enough, if a chap's a d—d scoundrel; but suppose he's -caught and gets five years in Berrima Gaol, he'd wish he'd acted more -like a white man and less like a myall blackfellow. But stoush all this -yabber. You boil the billy, while I get out the grub and hobble the -horses. I feel up to a good square feed.' - -So did Mr. Stoate, apparently, as he consumed slice after slice of the -cold corned beef and damper which Jenny had put up neatly in Bill's -'tucker bag,' not disdaining divers hunks of 'brownie,' washed down with -a couple of pints of 'billy tea,' after which he professed that he felt -better, and proceeded to fill and light his pipe with deliberation. - -By this time the hobbled horses had betaken themselves through the -abundant pasture of the river flat, and their bells sounding faint and -distant, Bill declared his intention of heading them back, in case they -should try to make off towards the home they had left. He returned in -half an hour, stating that they were in a bend and blocked by a -horseshoe lagoon. - -Both men addressed themselves to the task of putting up the small tent -which Bill carried, and bestowed their swags therein, after which Mr. -Stoate proposed that they should go over to the men's hut, and have a -bit of a yarn before they turned in. - -Bill remarked that they had to be up at daylight, but supposed that an -hour wouldn't matter. So the wayfarers strolled over to a long building, -not far from the creek bank, which they entered without ceremony. They -found themselves in the presence of about twenty men, in the ordinary -dress of the station hand, viz. tweed or moleskin trousers and Crimean -shirt. Some had coats, but the majority were in their shirt sleeves. -There were mostly of ages between twenty and forty, differing in -nationality, speech, and occupation. - -England, Ireland, Scotland, and Australia were represented. A Frenchman, -two Germans, a coloured man (American), besides a tall, well-made -Australian half-caste, who spoke much the same English as the others, -but had a softer voice, with rather slower intonation. - -At one end of the large room was an ample fireplace, with a glowing wood -fire, around which several men were sitting or standing, mostly smoking. -Others were seated at the long, solid dining-table reading, for in one -corner stood some fairly well-filled bookshelves. One man was writing a -letter. - -A few were lying in their bunks, rows of which were on either side of -the room. A certain amount of quiet conversation was going on. There was -no loud talking, swearing, or rude behaviour of any sort, and in spite -of the bare walls and plain surroundings an air of comfort pervaded the -whole. - -Stoate was greeted by several of the younger men, one of whom was -disposed to be facetious, as he exclaimed— - -'Hulloa, my noble agitator, what brings you here? Goin' to call out the -shearers, and play the devil generally, eh? You've come to the wrong -shop at North Yalla-doora—we're all steady-going coves here.' - -'I suppose you're game to stand up for your rights, Joe Brace, and not -afraid of getting your wages raised, if the Union does that for you?' - -'_If_ it does,' rejoined Joe sarcastically; 'and who's to go bail for -that, I'd like to know? You and your crowd haven't done any great things -so far, except make bad blood between masters and men—when everything -was peace and goodwill before, as the parson says.' - -'Well—what's that? Yer can't get nothin' in the world without fightin' -for it—I reckon we're going to have a bit of war for a change. Yes, -_war_, and a dashed good thing too, when men have to take orders from -their feller-men, and be worked like slaves into the bargain.' - -'Brayvo, Janus, old man!' replied the other, with mock approval. 'I see -what it's come to. You're to be a delegate with a pot hat and a -watch-chain, and get four pound a week for gassin', while us fools of -fellers does the hard graft. That's your dart, to sit alongside of -Barraker and the rest of the people's try-bunes—ain't them the blokes -that stands up and says, like Ben Willett, as we're trod on, and -starved, and treated worse than nigger slaves?' - -'So you are, if you only knew it. Look at all this here country-side in -the hands of two or three men, as sucks your blood, and fattens on it!' - -'The boss here ain't too fat, if that's what's the matter, and we're not -a very hungry-lookin' crowd, boys,' said the speaker, looking round. -'We've got good wages, good food, a book or two to read, and a table to -write our letters at. You've been loafin' in Melbourne, Janus, and got -oppressed there—spent all your money, forgot to buy a decent rig-out -(them's last year's boots as you have on), come on the roads to beg from -station to station, and abuse them as feeds you, after your belly's -full. What do _you_ say, Paddy?' - -The man whom he addressed folded up the sheet upon which he had been -writing, and rising from the form on which he sat, stood before the -fire, displaying an athletic figure, and determined countenance, lighted -up by a pair of glancing blue eyes, which proclaimed his nationality. - -'I say that this strike business is all d—d rot, run by a lot of sneaks -for their own ends. _They're_ the vermin that fatten on the working-men, -that are fools enough to believe their rubbish—not the squatters, who've -mostly worked hard for what they've made, and spent it free enough, more -power to them! Where's there a man on North Yalla-doora that's got -anything to complain of? We're well paid, well fed, well cooked for, eh, -Jack? and as comfortable in our way as the boss is in his. More indeed, -for we've got a shingled roof, and his is box-bark. The travellers' -hut's shingled, so is the rouseabouts'. He's never had time to have his -own place done up, though he lives like a gentleman, as we all know.' - -'Yer 'arf a gentleman yerself, ain't yer, _Mister_ O'Kelly?' replied -Stoate sneeringly. 'No wonder yer don't take no interest in the -workers—the men that makes the wealth of this country, and every other. -Yer the makin's of a first-class "scab," and if the chaps here was of my -mind you'd be put out of every hut on the river.' Before the last word -was fully out, O'Kelly made a couple of steps forward with so vengeful a -glare in his blue eyes that Stoate involuntarily drew back—with such -haste also, that he trod on the foot of a man behind him and nearly fell -backward. - -'You infernal scoundrel!' he cried; 'dare to take my name into your ugly -mouth again, and I'll kick you from here to the woolshed, and drown you -in the wash-pen afterwards. I've done a man's work in Australia for the -last five years, though I wasn't brought up to it, as some of you know. -I've nothing to say against the men who gave me honest pay for honest -work, and whose salt I've eaten. But skulking crawlers like you are -ruining the country. You're worse than a dingo—_he_ don't beg. You come -here and whine for food, and then try to bite the hand that feeds you. -Didn't I see you at the store to-night, waiting for grub, like the other -travellers?' - -'No, yer didn't then,' snarled Stoate. - -'Well, I have before this, and more than once. I expect you're loafing -on your mate, who's a decent fellow, and the sooner he parts company -with a hound like you, the better. But this is our hut, and out you go, -or I will, and that's the long and short of it. Come on, Joe!' - -'The public's not on for a sermon to-night, Janus, old man,' said the -young fellow before mentioned. 'Paddy's got his monkey up, and it'll be -bloody wars if you don't clear. Yer mate's a cove as we'd like to spend -the evenin' with, but the votin's agin yer, Janus, it raly is.' - -'I came in with Stoate,' said Bill, 'and in course I'm here to see it -out with him, man to man. But this is your hut, and not ours, mate, so -we'd better get back to our camp—good-night all!' - - - CHAPTER II - -The sun-rays were slowly irradiating 'the level waste, the rounded grey' -which accurately described the landscape, in the lower Riverina, which -our travellers had reached after a fortnight's travel, and where the -large and pastorally famous sheep station of Tandāra had been -constructed. Far as the eye could range was an unbroken expanse of -sea-like plain, covered at this spring time of year with profuse -vegetation—the monotony being occasionally relieved by clumps of the -peculiar timber growing only amid the vast levels watered by the -Darling. The wilga, the boree, and the mogil copses were in shape, -outline, and area so curiously alike, that the lost wanderer -proverbially found difficulty in fixing upon any particular clump as a -landmark. Once strayed from the faint irregular track, often the only -road between stations thirty or forty miles apart—once confused as to -the compass bearings, and how little hope was there for the wayfarer, -especially if weary, thirsty, and on foot! The clump of mogil or wilga -trees, which he had toiled so many a mile in the burning afternoon to -reach, was the facsimile of the one left, was it that morning or the one -before? More than once had he, by walking in a circle, and making for -apparently 'creek timber' at variance with his original course, found -himself at the _same clump_, verified by his own tracks, and the ashes -of his small fire, as the one which he had left forty-eight hours ago. - -Reckless and desperate, he takes the course again, feeling weaker by two -days' hard walking—footsore, hungry—above all, _thirsty_, to the verge -of delirium. Let us hope that he falls in with a belated boundary rider -who shows him an endless-seeming wire fence, which he commands him to -follow, till he meets the jackaroo sent with a water-bag to meet him. If -this good angel (not otherwise angelic-seeming) 'drops across' him, well -and good; if not so, or he does not 'cut the tracks' of a station team, -or the lonely mailman going a back road, God help him! Soon will the -crows gathering expectant round a pair of eagles, telegraph to the -sharp-eyed scouts of the wilderness that they may ride over and see the -dried-up, wasted similitude of what _was_ once a man. - -No such tragedy was likely to be enacted in the case of our two -shearers. They were fairly mounted. They had food and water to spare. -Bill was an experienced bushman, and both men had been along this track -before. So they followed the winding trail traced faintly on the broad -green sheet of spring herbage, sometimes almost invisible—or wholly so, -where an old sheep camp had erased the hoof-or wheel-marks—turning to -the right or the left with confident accuracy, until they 'picked up' -the course again. Wading girth-deep through the subsidiary -watercourses—billabongs, cowalls, and such—bank high in this year of -unusual rain and plenty (they are synonymous in riverine Australia, -'arida nutrix'), and scaring the water-fowl, which floated or flew in -countless flocks. - -That gigantic crane, the brolgan (or native companion), danced his -quadrille in front of them, 'advance, retire, flap wing, and set to -partner,' before he sailed away to a region unfrequented by the -peaceful-seeming but dangerous intruder. Crimson-winged, French grey -galah parrots fluttered around them in companies, never very far out of -shot; the small speckled doves, loveliest of the columba tribes, rose -whirring in bevies, while the - - swift-footed 'emu' over the waste - Speeds like a horseman that travels in haste. - -To the inexperienced European traveller beholding this region for the -first time, all-ignorant of the reverse side of the shield, what a -pastoral paradise it would have seemed! Concealed from his vision the -dread spectres of Famine, Death, Ruin, and Despair, which the -shutting-up of the windows of Heaven for a season, has power to summon -thereon. - -This was a good year, however, in pastoral parlance. Thousands of lambs -born in the autumnal months of April and May were now skipping, fat and -frolicsome, by the sides of the ewes, in the immense untended flocks. -They had been but recently marked and numbered, the latter arithmetical -conclusion being obtained by the accurate if primitive method of -counting the heaps of severed tails, which modern sheep-farming exacts -from the bleeding innocents. The percentage ranged from ninety to nearly -a hundred, an almost abnormally favourable result. - -How different from the famine years of a past decade, still fresh in -men's minds, when every lamb was killed as soon as born 'to save its -mother's life,' and in many stations one-half of the ewes died also, -from sheer starvation; when immense migratory flocks, like those of the -'mesta' of their Spanish ancestors, swept over the land, destroying, -locust-like, every green thing (and dry, too, for that matter), steering -towards the mountain plateaux, which boast green grass and -rill-melodies, the long relentless summer through—that summer which, on -lower levels, had slain even the wild creatures of the forest and plain, -inured from countless ages to the deadly droughts of their Austral home. - - When the kangaroos by the thousand die, - It's rough on the travelling sheep, - -as 'Banjo' sings. - -This station, when reached, presented a different appearance from North -Yalla-doora. The prairie-like plain, far as the eye could reach, was -bisected by a wide and turbid stream, flowing between banks, now low and -partly submerged, now lofty and precipitous; occasionally overhanging as -if cut away by the angry waters, in one of the foaming floods which, -from time to time, alternated with seasons when the shallow stream -trickled feebly over the rock-bars in the river-bed. - -The buildings were large, but less complete in appearance than those of -Yalla-doora. An air of feverish energy pervaded the whole establishment, -which seemed to denote that time was more valued than finish, for the -pressing work in hand. The windings of the river could be distinctly -marked by the size of the great eucalypts which fringed the banks, -refusing to grow away from its waters. How often had they been hailed -with joy by the weary wayfarer, athirst even unto death, who knows that -his trials are over, when from afar he sights the 'river timber.' And -now, the signs of the campaign were visible. Men rode in at speed from -distant parts of the immense area known as Tandara 'run.' From the far -horizon came nearer and yet nearer the lines of unladen waggons, with -long teams of lagging horses or even bullocks, from twelve to twenty in -number. - -Far from fat and well-liking were these necessary beasts of draught, but -sure to leave the station frolicsome and obese after a few weeks' -depasturing upon the giant herbage which for a hundred leagues in every -direction waved in vast meads like ripening corn. An assemblage of tents -and hastily constructed shelters on a 'point' of the river proclaims the -'camp' or temporary abode of the expectant shearers and rouseabouts, -wool-pressers, ordinary hands, and general utility men, upon every large -run at shearing time, but more especially on so exceptionally important -a property as that of Tandara. - -'By George! there's a big roll up on Steamer Point this time,' said -Bill. 'I've shorn here twice, and never seen as many afore. There won't -be stands for half of 'em when the roll's called.' - -'No more there will,' said Stoate, as he looked in the direction of the -populous camp, where much talk and argument seemed to be going on. 'And -them that wrote and got their names put down months back won't have a -rosy time of it neither.' - -'Why not?' queried Bill. 'Ain't they done right to come and shear when -they promised last year, and got the cove to keep places for them?' - -'Oh, I didn't mean that, though I don't hold, mind you, with taking -places such a dashed long time before shearin's on. It's hard on a chap, -when he comes to a shed after travellin' three or four 'underd mile, to -be told that all the stands is took up. But there'll be a big row all -the same.' - -'How's that?' - -'Why, Drench the delegate told me, the last place we stopped at, that -orders had come up that if the boss wouldn't give in to the Shearers' -Union agreement the men were to be called off the board.' - -'Hunter won't stand it,' said Bill. 'You take my word. He's always been -a good employer; no man can deny that. Good wages, good rations, and -pays cash on the nail when the men want it. Don't even give cheques, and -that blocks the publican, because a chap can pay as he goes, and needn't -hand his cheque over the bar counter. But I know what he'll say to the -delegate, or any other man that tells him he's not to be boss in his own -shed.' - -'What'll that be?' asked Stoate, with a sidelong look, half of -curiosity, half of concealed malice. - -'He'll tell 'em to go to hell and mind their own business, and leave him -to look after his; that he'll see the Union and every one connected with -it d—d first before he'll give up the right to manage his own property -in his own way.' - -'We'll show him different—that is, the Union will,' said Stoate, -correcting himself hastily. '_His_ property! Who made it? who dug the -tanks and put up the fences, and shepherded the sheep afore they was -paddocked? and built the blooming shed, as is an emblem of tyranny, to -my thinking—when every man ought to have his five 'underd or a thousand -ewes of his own, and a neat little place to shear 'em in? _His -property!_ I say it's _our_ property. _We_ made it—with the labour of -our 'ands—and we ought to have the biggest say in the managin' of it.' - -'What about buyin' the sheep and cattle, and the horses, and the payin' -of wages this year?' said Bill. 'Suppose they come o' theirselves, -"kinder growed," as the nigger gal says in that book about slavery in -America, as Jenny read out to me last winter.' - -'Wages be hanged!' retorted the disciple of Henry George and Bellamy. -'Our labour makes the fund out of which they pays their bloomin' -_wages_, as they call 'em—infernal skinflints, as they are. It's dashed -easy for them as gets the profits of our hard earnin's to dribble a -trifle back, hardly enough to keep us in workin' order, like them team -'orses as is just turned out—a bite of chaff, and that's about all.' - -'Well, only for the chaff, they'd be deaders the first dry season—down -from weakness for a week or two, with their eyes picked out by the -crows, and the ants eatin' 'em alive. I've seen the wild "brumbies" like -that. I expect _they_ ought to go on strike for stable keep, and three -feeds of oats a day?' - -'Men and 'orses is different—you can't compare 'em, in the way of their -rights.' - -'No; I know you can't,' answered Bill. 'The horses are a dashed sight -the straightest crowd of the two. Howsomever, we shan't agree on them -points, if we talk till Christmas. You take your way, and I'll take -mine. But look here, Stoate, if there's goin' to be any of this burnin' -and smashin' racket, as I've heard tell of, I'm _not on_. Mind -that—don't you make any mistake! I've a bit of property of my own, as -I've worked hard for, and I'm not goin' to hurt another man's savin's, -Union or no Union, for all the Labour delegates in Australia, and so I -tell you.' - -Stoate did not speak for a few moments, then his eyes once more assumed -the covert look of malice which they had worn before, as he said slowly— - -'That means that you're not game to stand up for the rights of your -horder, and you'll act the spy on the men as does.' - -Bill's grey eyes blazed out with so sudden a light, as he made a half -movement to jump off his horse, that Stoate involuntarily tightened his -rein, and touched his leg-weary steed with the one spur of which he made -constant use. But Bill resumed his saddle seat, and putting strong -constraint on himself, replied: 'I'm that game as I'll give you a crack -on the "point," as 'll stop your blowin' for a bit, if you'll get down -and put your hands up. You're a light weight, and not very fit, or I'd -knock some of the gas out'n yer now if you'd stand up to me. Not as you -would—you're a deal better at talkin' than fightin', let alone workin'. -But you and me's mates no more, mind that. You clear out with your moke, -and make your own camp, and don't you come anigh me never again, or I'll -give you what for, in a style you'll remember till the shearin' after -next.' And so saying, Bill touched up his horse, and went off at a hand -gallop, with his pack-horse—which by this time had learned to follow his -companion steed—after him. Mr. Stoate regarded this action on the part -of his whilom companion with baleful eye and resentful feeling, which at -length found vent in these memorable words— - -'You're very flash, Bill Hardwick, with your fresh 'oss and yer packer. -S'pose you think you've left me in a hole, all for a few words on these -blarsted, hungry, grinding squatters; but I've seen better coves'n you -straightened afore to-day. And by——! I'll be even with yer before the -year's out, as sure as my name's Janus Stoate!' - -After which pious resolve, Mr. Stoate jogged sullenly onward to the head -station, where his sense of the dignity of labour did not prevent him -from joining a crowd of men, who were in turn receiving the ordinary -bush dole—viz. a pound or two of fresh beef or mutton, in addition to a -pint pannikin of flour. As there were at least forty or fifty men who -received these components of two substantial meals—supper and -breakfast—it may be guessed what a daily contribution the squatter was -required to make toward the support of the nomadic labourer of the -period. - -With respect to that universally recognised Australian institution, the -'travellers' hut,' to which Mr. Stoate betook himself, on receiving his -free supper and breakfast materials, an explanation may not be out of -place. In the good old times, 'before the war,' in the pre-union days, -and when owing to the smaller size of pastoral properties the hands -required were necessarily fewer, the chance labourer was made free of -the 'men's hut.' In those Arcadian days the men's cook prepared his -meals, and he sat at meat with the permanent employés. - -This was all very well, when one or two casual guests at the outside -were wont to arrive in an evening. But when, in consequence of the -growth of population, and the increase of stock, the units were turned -into scores, with a possibility of hundreds, the free hospitality had to -be restricted. - -Complaints were made by the permanent hands that the pilgrim was in the -habit of picking up unconsidered trifles, when the men had gone to work -after breakfast, and absconding with the same. The cook, too, -expostulated, inasmuch as the 'traveller,' after availing himself -copiously of the meals set before him, generally took the precaution of -loading himself with 'cooked food' sufficient for the next day or two, -whereby he, the cook, was kept baking and boiling all day and half the -night, in addition to his ordinary work. - -For some or all of these reasons, the 'travellers' hut' was decided -upon. A roomy and substantial structure, placed near the creek or dam, -as the case might be, at a certain distance from the other buildings, to -which all future travellers not being gentlefolk, coming with -introductions to the overseer's quarters, or 'the big house,' were -relegated. 'Bunks' or sleeping-places, a table, and stools were mostly -provided; also a load of firewood, an axe, a frying-pan, bucket, and -iron pot. - -Wayfarers henceforth came under the obligation to cook for themselves. -The frying of chops, the boiling of beef and the baking of -cakes—operations, with which every bushman is familiar, not being -considered to be hardships worth speaking of. The stock of firewood was -kept up, it being found that, in default, the uninvited guests felt no -delicacy in burning the interior fittings, or even the doors and window -frames. To this sanctuary, Mr. Stoate, in place of his former -comfortable camp with Hardwick, was fain to betake himself. It was half -a mile 'down the creek,' and he cursed freely at being told by the -overseer that he must turn out his horse in the 'strangers' paddock,' -another half-mile farther, and on no account to put him into the -homestead horse-paddock. - -'I'm not going to have all the feed ate up that I've saved for the -station horses,' said that functionary, in decided tones, 'and so I tell -you. You shearers and rouseabouts think it's nothing, I suppose, to find -grass for a hundred or two horses, and a mob of bullocks big enough to -stock a small run. But you'll have to pay for your grass one of these -fine days, if you don't mind your eye.' - -'D'ye think a man's to walk all over the bloomin' bush, lookin' for work -and carrying oats and hay with him, if he's got a moke?' growled Stoate. -'The squatters have got all the blessed country, and they grudge a pore -man a mouthful of food, and every blade of grass his horse eats.' - -'A poor man!' said the overseer. 'What sort of a poor man d'ye call -yourself, Stoate? Your cheque last year, what with fencing and shearing, -was over forty pounds for three months' work. You've neither wife, chick -nor child (not in this country, anyhow). What have you done with your -money? Spent it in town; now you come up here crawling and begging for -the bread you eat, and doing all the harm you can to the men you're -living on. Why don't you keep a pound or two for the road, like Bill -Hardwick and other chaps? Then you needn't be beholden to any one; and -if you like to talk rot to the men that are fools enough to trust you, -that's their look-out. But to come here and to every station along the -river begging for food and trying to harm the men you're living on is -mean, d—d mean, and treacherous to boot. If the boss was of my way of -thinking, he'd never let you inside a shed of his, or pay you another -pound for shearing, and now you know my mind,—take your grub.' - -And then Mr. Macdonald, an athletic Australian Scot, who towered above -the short though wiry Londoner as does a mastiff above a lurcher, poured -the pannikin of flour into the 'tucker bag' which Stoate held out, and -cutting off a lump of fat mutton tossed it contemptuously at him. - -Stoate caught the meat before it fell, and looked at the overseer with -evil passions writ plain in his sullen face and snaky eye, as he said: -'You might come to be sorry for this some day, boss, big as you are!' - -'Yes, you sneaking hound, I know what that means. But I've got old Harry -Bower (who used to shepherd here long ago, before he turned bushranger) -as night-watchman at the shed, in case some of you dogs that disgrace -the Shearers' Union take a fancy to light it up. He was a _man_ when he -took to the bush. _You'd_ do it and fellows like you, only you haven't -the pluck. He's got a double-barrelled gun, and swears by his God he'll -use it if he catches any curs sneaking about the shed after dark. The -grass is too green to burn for a month or two, but if I come across you -near a bush fire, after shearing, I'll shoot you like a crow. So take -that with you—and do your worst.' - -Mr. Macdonald, though a born Australian, had inherited, it will be seen, -the characteristic 'perfervidum ingenium.' - -It seemed imprudent of him to speak so openly before the crowd of -shearers and '_bona-fide_ travellers,' so called. But a bold, declared -policy is sometimes more diplomatic than a halting, opportunist one. The -men knew that war was declared, given certain acts of aggression or -intimidation on their part. Severe sentences would unquestionably -follow—if convictions were secured before the courts. On the whole, -though they did not fear him, they respected him more for his openness -and decided action. - -'He's a _man_ that hits out straight from the shoulder,' said one young -fellow. 'I like that sort. You know where you have 'em. I don't hold -with all this Union racket. It does more harm than good, to my mind. The -most of these delegates is reg'lar blatherskites, as I wouldn't trust to -carry a pound note across the street. Pretty coves to make laws for the -likes of us.' - -'I'm dashed sorry I ever had any truck with this Union crowd,' said his -mate, as they walked away. 'I'd never no call to complain, as I know. If -I didn't like a man's ways in his shed, I didn't shear there. There's -plenty more. I don't fancy free men like us shearers bein' under one -man's thumb, and him lookin' out for himself all the time. It's too much -of the monkey for me, and I'm not goin' to stand it after this season, -no matter what comes of it.' - -The minor troubles having been surmounted, the roll-call read over, the -rouseabouts settled and contented—each man in receipt of twenty-five -shillings per week, with everything found on a scale of liberality, not -to say profuseness, huts, cooks, wood and water, beef and mutton, tea -and sugar, vegetables—everything reasonable and unreasonable, in fact, -that the heart of bushman could desire. - -The shearers, in number nearly a hundred, were apparently placated by -being allowed to shear for the first time at Tandara under 'Union -Rules,' a copy of which was posted up in a prominent part of the shed, -setting forth that on certain points of dispute, if such should arise, -the Delegate, that important, dignified personage, should have the power -of joint decision with the shed manager. Wool had gone down nearly -one-half in price, fat sheep as much or more; but holding to a modern -doctrine that wages were not to be regulated by profits, and that Labour -and not Capital provided the wage-fund, the same rate of payment per -hundred sheep as was paid in more prosperous times had been exacted by -the shearers' representatives. This was agreed to under protest, though -considered inequitable by the proprietors of North Yalla-doora and other -representative sheds as the lesser evil, compared with that of a delayed -shearing and perhaps ruined wool clip. A truly serious matter. - -For the same reason the Union Rules had been accepted by several -proprietors, though much against the grain, and the woolshed ticketed -for the first time as a 'Union Shed.' This was done under the impression -that a feeling of loyalty to the principles which professed to guide the -Shearers' Union would ensure steady and continuous work. - -It was a concession to expediency, unwillingly made by Mr. Hunter and -others at the last moment, in the hope of 'getting the shearing over -quickly'—a matter involving great gain or loss. The latter, in this -particular era of low prices of wool and stock of all kinds, cattle and -horses, as well as sheep, approaching the margin of ruin, ominously -close. 'If the fellows shear decently and behave themselves, I don't -care what they stick up in the shed, or what they call their confounded -Union. They shore well enough for me and Anderson last year, so I shall -go on with them as long as they treat me well. You might as well do so, -too.' - -This had been the reasoning of Mr. M'Andrew, one of Mr. Hunter's -neighbours, a shrewd, somewhat self-seeking man of the world. And it had -a savour of argument about it. 'What did it matter,' he had said, 'how -other squatters looked at the question? All they had to think of was to -get their own work properly done, and let every man mind his own -business. He was not sure that the Pastoral Association did much good. -It only set the men and masters more at odds with each other. A great -deal of this ill-feeling and strike had been brought on by such -proprietors as old Jackson, M'Slaney, and Pigdon. Men notoriously hard -and grasping in their dealings with their employés—cutting down wages, -the price of shearing and contract bush work, in every way possible; -feeding, housing, and paying their people badly, while charging -exorbitant prices for necessaries—flour, meat, shears, tobacco—all -things, in fact, which they could not carry with them and were bound to -buy from the station store. These pastoralists were primarily -responsible for the dissatisfaction which had led to the strikes and -rioting. For his part, as he had always acted fairly and squarely with -his men, as everybody knew, it was not to be expected that he should be -compelled to pay up for a contest which he had no share in bringing on.' - -This had seemed fair reasoning to that class of men who are glad of any -excuse to avoid paying cash out of pocket and to the avowal of a decided -policy. But there were other squatters equally averse to unnecessary -outlay, who, possessing more forecast and logical acumen, refused on -principle to make terms with the shearers' or any other Union. They had -stated their grounds of dissent from the policy of opportunism, and, -what was more important, acted upon them with courage and consistency. - -'This station,' said Archibald Douglas Kinross, 'chiefly freehold land, -with the sheep depasturing thereon, is _my_ property, as the law stands -at present. And I claim the right of every Briton to manage his own -affairs in his own way. To employ persons to do my work—_my_ work, you -understand, not any one else's—as I shall choose, in my own way and -after my own taste. If any section of workmen does not wish to work for -me, they are at liberty not to do so. I leave them absolute freedom in -that respect; but if they accept my pay and my employment, they must do -my work _as I choose_—not as _they_ choose—all socialistic sophistry -notwithstanding. - -'Australia still contains men willing to work for high wages and good -food, and to do what they are told by a fair employer, and if I am -threatened or my property injured by lawless ill-disposed persons, I -shall appeal to that statute under which law and order have hitherto, in -Australia, been vindicated. Moreover I, Archie Kinross, am _not_ going -to place myself under the heel of any body of men calling themselves by -one name or another. Once concede Trade Unions their right to coerce the -individual, and farewell to that freedom which has so long been the -Briton's boast. - -'Every man who had the misfortune to acquire or inherit property would, -as the so-called Unions gained power by cowardly subservience or -mistaken reasoning, be at the mercy of an irresponsible, ignorant, -perhaps more or less unprincipled committee, anxious to blackmail those -more fortunately placed than themselves. - -'They would be told how many servants they were to employ, and what they -were to pay them; feed, clothe, and otherwise provide for them. Not -improbably, other concessions would be gradually exacted. The whole -result being reached in a state of modified communism, certain to end in -bloodshed and revolution. A social upheaval, which all history tells us -is the invariable precursor of a military despotism.' - - * * * * * - -After ever so much trouble, worry and anxiety, arising from the -offensively independent and even obstructive attitude of the shearers at -all the sheds in the Lower Darling and elsewhere in New South Wales, a -start was made at Tandara. - -Jack Macdonald, bitterly aggrieved that his employers should have given -in, was almost out of his mind with the irritating, puerile demands and -objections which he had to meet. - -'In old days he would have knocked down the ringleader, and told the -sympathisers to "go to the devil"—that they need never show up at this -shed or station again. Never should they get a pound of mutton or a -pannikin of flour from the store, if they were dying of hunger; that -they were ungrateful dogs, and here—at Tandara of all places, known for -the most liberal station in the whole blooming district for pay and -rations, where useless old hands were pensioned and kept on at -make-believe work, when no one else would have had them on the place; -where more expensive improvements—huts, fencing, tanks, wells, and -stock-yards—had been made and put up, than on any station from the -Queensland border to the sea. And now, what had come of it all? - -'Where was the gratitude of the working-man, who, with his fellows, had -been fed, lodged, and supported in good seasons and bad—when wool was -down and money was scarce, and half the squatters on the verge of ruin? -When the shed was down with influenza last year, didn't the wife and -daughters of the "boss," who happened to be staying over shearing that -year, make jelly, sago puddings and cakes, all sorts of blooming -luxuries for the men that were going to die (by their own account), and -couldn't hold their heads up? - -'And now, because labour was scarce, owing to the Coolgardie goldfield -having broken out, and the season coming on early, with the burr and -grass seeds ripening every day, they must try and ruin their best -friends, the squatters—threatening to strike for this and that—faulting -the meat, the bread, the sugar, the tea, every mortal thing (far better -than ever they'd been used to), and all at the bidding of a fellow like -Stead, a man that had been educated at the expense of the State, people -putting their hands in their pockets to pay for his schooling. And this -is the first use he makes of it. It was enough to make a man feel -ashamed of the colony he was born in, ashamed of being an Australian -native, enough to make him clear out to South Africa, where the Boers -and blackfellows were said to be no great things, but couldn't be such -sneaks and dogs and thieves as his countrymen here.' - -Jack Macdonald repeated this unreserved statement of opinion so often, -for the benefit of all whom it might concern, that he began to know it -by heart, and half thought of standing for the district, when the next -election came round. However, the men liked him, and didn't mind his -hard words, knowing that they held the key of the position, and that he -was powerless if he wanted his sheep shorn. He couldn't afford to kick -them out, however much he might wish so to do. All the sheds in the -district were short of men, and if the shearers left in a body, the -year's clip would suffer ruinous loss and injury. So they turned up -their noses at the beautiful, fat, well-cooked mutton,—said 'they wanted -more chops.' To which Macdonald sarcastically replied 'that he supposed -they must grow a new breed of sheep, _all chops_.' In spite of their -_five_ meals a day, early breakfast, tea and 'brownie' at eleven -o'clock, dinner at one, afternoon tea at four o'clock, and supper at -half-past six, they were not satisfied, and, indeed, would not have gone -without a second supper at 9 P.M. if the cook had not refused -point-blank, and being a fighting man of some eminence, invited the -deputation to 'step outside and put up their hands,' one after the -other. - -However, as before mentioned, a start _was_ made, and though the quality -of shearing was no great things, and Mr. Stoate, duly elected Shearers' -Delegate, produced his appointment and walked up and down the shed, with -great dignity, carefully ignoring Macdonald, and ostentatiously writing -or telegraphing to W. Stead, Esq., President of the A.S.U., Wagga -Wagga,[1] N.S. Wales, some kind of progress was made, and the super's -face began to lose its saturnine expression. The weather, which in the -early days of spring had been showery and unfavourable, changed for the -better, and the heaviest of the flocks having been shorn, 'big -tallies'—a hundred and thirty, and even one hundred and fifty or -sixty—began to be made. - -Footnote 1: - - Pronounced 'Waūgăh Waūgăh.' - -The discontented shearers even, whose minds had been unsettled by -specious, communistic talk, prophesying a general distribution of -property among the wage-earners, according to the gospel of Bellamy, -commenced to be more or less satisfied. Visions of the big cheque, to -which each man was adding now (prospectively) at the rate of from a -pound to thirty-five shillings _a day_, commenced to float in the air. -All was comparative peace and joy. Macdonald, it is true, had a trifling -altercation with Mr. Janus Stoate one Friday afternoon, during which the -last-named gentleman received a telegram, which he put into his pocket, -after reading it, with a sneering smile. 'You'll know directly who's -master on this floor—you, the hired servant of a capitalist, as is -livin' on the blood of these pore ignorant chaps; or me, that's been -elected by the workers of the land to see as they gets justice from -their grindin' employers.' - -Macdonald made one step towards the insolent underling, as might the -second mate of a north sea whale-ship, if cook or fo'c's'le hand dared -withstand him, while the wrathful glitter in his eye caused the offender -to alter his tone. But the thought of the shearing, now three-parts -through, being delayed on his account, was even a stronger controlling -force. - -Halting, with an effort, he glared for a few seconds at the contemptible -creature, that yet had such power of annoyance, as if he could crush him -with his heel. Then with studiously calm and measured tones, he said: -'You'd do great things if you were able, Mr. Delegate Stoate. If I had -my way, I'd have you shot and nailed up on a barn door, as they do your -namesakes in the old country. That's the only way to treat varmint, and -it's a pity it isn't done here.' - -The man received this little compliment with an attempt at cynical -self-possession, which his shifty, malignant gaze belied, as the small -eyes gleamed with reptilian malice. 'I'll learn yer,' he hissed out, 'to -talk to the people's chyce as if he was the dirt under yer feet.' 'Men -of the Australian Shearers' Union,' he said, raising his voice to a -shrill cry, 'listen to me, and drop them shears—every man Jack of yer. -D'ye know what's in this bloomin' tallagram? A strike's ordered. D'ye -hear?—a _strike_! Here's the wire from the Head Centre at Wagga. - -'"By order of the President and Council of the Australian Shearers' -Union. Every shed in the Darling district, Union or non-Union, is hereby -commanded to come out and stop working _instantly_ on receiving this -notice from the Delegate of the Branch, under penalty of being reported -to the Council of the Union at Headquarters. - - Signed by me, W. STEAD, - At Wagga Wagga, this 30th September 189-."' - - - CHAPTER III - -This was a bombshell with a vengeance. The anarchist, who threw it -metaphorically, would have had no scruples—except those of personal -apprehension—in casting a dynamite duplicate on the shearing floor. A -sudden confusion filled the shed. Murmurs and sullen rejoinders were -made, as the more prudent division of the men recognised that their -shearing cheques, the outcome of weeks of hard work, were doomed to -delay, perhaps to forfeiture. Some openly withstood the triumphant -delegate, others, less impulsive, were disposed to temporise, while 'I -thought this was a Union shed' remarked, with slow impressiveness, a -gigantic native, considerably over six feet in height, whose wiry, -muscular frame and tremendous reach stamped him as one of the 'ringers' -of the shed. 'Ain't the Union Rules put up there?' pointing to the copy -ostentatiously affixed at the end of the shed for reference. 'What's -this darned foolishness, stoppin' men that's only a week's work between -them and a big cheque?' - -'You can read and write, I suppose,' replied Mr. Stoate contemptuously. -('Better nor you,' murmured a young fellow just within earshot.) 'Is -them words on the telegram, what I told the men of this shed, and are -you thereby ordered to come out, or are you not? That's what I want to -know. Are you a-goin' to defy the Union? Think a bit afore you chance -that and turn "scab."' - -'I'm goin' to think a bit—just so,—and I hope you other chaps'll do the -same, and not rush into law, like a bull at a gate, and lose your money, -because of any second fiddle in the land. As to being a "scab," Delegate -Stoate, I'm no more one than you are, perhaps not as much, if the -truth's told. But don't you say that to me again, or I'll pitch you -through one of them skylights, with one hand too.' And here the giant -stretched forward his enormous fore-arm, and looking upward to the -skylight in the roof of the woolshed, made as though there would be no -unusual difficulty in the feat. 'Show me that telegram, please; this -step wants consideration.' - -'Ain't you goin' to obey the Union?' demanded Stoate with a great -assumption of dignity. 'P'raps you ain't aweer, men, as this is a -serious act of disobedience, which I shall report accordin'.' - -'That's all very well,' answered the dissenter, whose unusual height, as -he towered above his fellows, seemed to give him a certain title to -leadership. 'I'm as good a Unionist as any man here; but I see no points -in chuckin' away our money and hurtin' an employer who's been fair and -square with us. Where's he gone against our rules? I ask you all. Isn't -the rules put up at the end of the shed, all ship-shape and reg'lar? -Didn't we stop shearin' for two days last week, and the weather fine, -because the delegate here said the wool was damp? I didn't feel no damp, -nor my mate neither, and we lost two dashed good days' work—a couple of -pounds each all round. Now, I don't want to go dead against the Union, -though I can't see the fun of losin' a goodish cheque, and, as I say, -hurtin' a gentleman as never did any man here a bad turn. Let's try a -middle course. Suppose we pick a man as we all can trust, and send him -to Wagga. He can interview the Head Centre there, and _make sure_, afore -we chuck away our stuff, whether every Union shed's bound to come out, -or whether, under partic'lar circumstances like this here, we can't _cut -out the shed_ afore we go. I move a resolution to that effect.' - -'And I second it,' said Bill Hardwick. 'I want to take my money home to -my old woman and the kids; I've got a lot to do with it this season, and -so, I daresay, have most of you, chaps. I don't see no sense in clearin' -out now, when we've got fifty or sixty pound a man, to take and goin' -off with neither money nor grub. Of course, we can _wait_ to be paid out -of Union funds, but we know what _that_ means. Those that votes for Jim -Stanford's motion, and fair play, hold up your hands.' - -The scene that followed was hard to describe. A forest of hands was held -up, while there rose a babel of voices, some laying down the law, others -expressing a doubt of the prudence of flouting the mysterious powers of -the A.S.U., in the midst of which Mr. Stoate, standing upon the wool -table, vainly attempted to make himself heard. - -The controversy continued until the dinner-bell rang, by which time it -was clear that the sense of the meeting was overwhelmingly in favour of -Stanford's amendment. - -So, in spite of Stoate's threats and envious malice, a steady-going, -middle-aged shearer of known probity and experience was chosen and -despatched to Narandera, _en route_ for Wagga Wagga, for further -instructions. In the meantime, it was agreed to go on with the shearing, -to which the men addressed themselves with such energy and -determination, that when the knock-off evening bell sounded, the tallies -were larger than on any preceding afternoon of the week. Jack Macdonald -was delighted, though he refrained from open commendation, as he noticed -that all the fast shearers made a point of shearing carefully and giving -no room for disapprobation on his part. - -Mr. Stoate viewed the whole proceedings with unconcealed disgust, and -talked big about taking down the names of every man in the shed, and so -reporting them that they would never get another 'stand' in a Union -shed. He found, however, that except among the young, unmarried men, and -a few reckless spendthrifts, who were carried away by the specious ideas -at that time freely ventilated, he had little influence. - -Stanford and Hardwick were noted men—honest, hard-working, and respected -as 'ringers,' and as such, leaders in their profession. As Stanford bent -his long back, and lifted out a fresh sheep every few minutes from the -pen, with as much apparent ease as if the big, struggling seventy pound -wether had been a rabbit, a feeling of industrial emulation seemed to -pervade the great shed, and each man 'shore for his life,' as old Billy -Day expressed it—'and that dashed neat and careful, as if there was a -hundred pound prize at next Wagga Show hangin' to it.' - -'Wait till George Greenwell comes back,' said Stoate—'and he ought to be -here inside of eight days, as he can get the rail from Narandera—and see -what you'll have to say, then.' - -Of course, telegrams had been sent, and arrived with reiterated command -from the Napoleon at Wagga Wagga—to lay down their arms, or rather their -shears, as ordered. - -And this was the crowning injustice and treachery of the ukase—that all -the _Union_ sheds in New South Wales, where the proprietors had -surrendered their independence, and pocketed their pride, at the bidding -of expediency, were penalised. Those squatters who 'bowed not the knee -to Baal,' and fought out the contest, with sheds half full of -'learners,' and strangers from other colonies, brought over by the -Pastoral Association, as well as the free shearers, who, intimidated by -the Union guerillas, were often injured and hindered as to their lawful -work, were now in a far better position. They were able to laugh at the -surrendering squatters. - -'You have given in,' said they; 'sacrificed principle and set a bad -example for the sake of getting quickly through this season's shearing. -You betrayed your pastoral comrades, and are _now betrayed by the -Union_; you are left in the lurch. Serve you right!' - -So, 'deserted in their utmost need,' with half-shorn sheep, and no hope -of fresh men—as the non-Union sheds had secured most of the available -labour—they were in a pitiable condition, neither help nor sympathy -being procurable; while many of the free sheds were shearing steadily -and comfortably, with a 'full board.' - -In seven days, Mr. Greenwell was expected to appear. He could ride to -Narandera in three days; twenty-four hours would take him to Wagga -Wagga, after stopping for the night at Junee Junction. This was far and -away the finest railway station in New South Wales, perhaps in -Australia, having not only an imposing structure connected with the -railway proper, but a very fine hotel, erected by the Government of New -South Wales, liberally managed and expensively furnished. - -There, the railway passenger could spend the night, or a week, if he so -decided, being sure that he would be called at the proper time, either -by night or day, to be despatched on his journey in an enviable and -Christian state of mind. - -The days passed on at Tandara, the week was nearly over. Such quick and -clean shearing had never been done there before. The last day of the -allotted time approached. Greenwell had not arrived, but surely he would -turn up on the morrow. - -Stoate was uneasily anxious. He hinted at treachery. But Greenwell, a -regular, downright 'white man,' could not be 'got at.' Every one scoffed -at the idea. One of the rouseabouts, who had known better times, hummed -the refrain of 'Mariana in the moated grange': 'He cometh not, she -said.' Worst of all, from Stoate's point of view, the shearing would be -finished in two more days. The shed would then be paid off—shearers, -pressers, rouseabouts, the cook and his mate, everybody down to the -tar-boy. If their emissary didn't come before then, he might just as -well not come at all. The 'might, majesty, and dominion' of the -Australian Shearers' Union, with 20,000 members in all the colonies, -which had aimed at one great 'Australian Labourers' Union' in town and -country, would be set at nought. They had planned the inclusion of every -worker—that is, muscle-worker, for brains didn't count—from the ship's -cook of the coaster to the boundary rider on the Lower Darling or the -Red Barcoo; from the gas-stoker in Melbourne or Sydney, where they hoped -to plunge the cities into darkness, to the stock-rider, behind his drove -of Queensland bullocks; and the back-block carrier, with his waggon and -team of fourteen unshod Clydesdales or Suffolks. - -And now, in the case of the Tandara shed, one of the best known and -oldest stations on the Darling, this campaign against capital was to end -in defeat and disappointment. - -Stoate groaned in despair, as the eighth day arrived and no messenger. -For the last forty-eight hours he had been looking anxiously for the -cloud of dust at the end of the long, straight road across the endless -plain, which heralded the approach of team, coach, or horseman. - -As if to aggravate the Strike leaders, and all connected with that -beneficent institution, the weather had been miraculously fine. No -spring storms had come out of the cloudless sky, not so much as a -'Darling River shower'—four drops upon five acres,' in the -vernacular—had sprinkled the red dust of the plain, to give the delegate -the excuse to declare the sheep too wet to shear, and so lose a day. -Nothing, in fact, happened. And on the noontide hour of the fourth day -succeeding the week, Tandara shed 'cut out.' The 'cobbler,' the last -sheep—a bad one to shear, and so considerately left for 'some one else,' -by every man who picked out of the large middle pen—was lifted aloft by -Stanford, amid the jeers of the men, now preparing with stiff backs and -aching sinews to surrender their task for a full week at any rate, -before they 'struck' the next shed, lower down the river. - -'I could shear him,' said he, regarding the closely wrinkled 'boardy' -fleece, 'if he was covered with bloomin' pin-wire. My word! isn't it a -pity that Greenwell didn't turn up afore? Eh, Mr. Delegate? D'ye think -the Union'll guillotine us, same as they did chaps at the French -Revolution? I'm off to Launceston in case of accidents. My cheque'll -keep me for the rest of the summer, in a country that _is_ a country—not -a God-forsaken dust-heap like this.' Thus speaking, and shearing all the -while, with punctilious precision, Mr. Stanford trimmed the 'cobbler' -with a great affectation of anxiety, and dismissing him down the shoot -of the pen with a harmless kick, said, 'Good-bye, and God bless you, old -man; you make eighty-nine—not a bad forenoon's work.' - -'Come along, men, down to the office,' said Macdonald, 'your money's -ready for you—the storekeeper and I were up pretty nigh all night -getting the accounts made out. You'll enjoy your dinners all the better -for having your money in your pockets. The rouseabouts and shed hands -can come in the afternoon. They won't want to leave before morning.' - -'Who's that coming along the Wagga road on a grey horse?' said a -sharp-eyed young shearer. 'By Jing! I believe it's Greenwell. Whatever -can have kep' him, Mr. Stoate?' - -'Never mind him,' said Macdonald. 'John Anderson, this is your account; -look it over. £45:10:6. You'll take a cheque; here it is—sign the book. -I'll take you all by the alphabet.' - -As the men stood round the little room at the side of the big store, -that served for the station office, the traveller on the grey horse rode -slowly towards them. - -The men were in a merry humour. Their keen eyes had recognised horse and -rider afar off. It _was_ the messenger who had so signally failed in -coming up to time. He was received with a storm of ironical cheers and -derisive exclamations. - -'Halloa, George—where yer been? To Sydney and back? Got warrants for us -all? To think as we should ha' cut out, and you on the road with an -order from the Head Centre in your pocket! Come along, Mr. Delegate, and -talk straight to him.' - -These and the like specimens of humorous conversation were shouted at -the unlucky emissary, who, as he came up and wearily dismounted, -evidently knew that an explanation would be demanded of him. - -Stoate walked out with a solemn and dignified air to meet him. 'Well -done, Mr. Delegate, give it to him from the shoulder. He's a jolly -telegraph, ain't he? Why, Joe Kearney the sprinter could have _run_ all -the way and beat him, hands down.' - -'Will you oblige me by statin' the cause of your delay on a mission of -importance to the Union and your feller-workers?' - -'Now then, George, speak up—give us the straight griffin. What was it? -Honour bright; did yer join a circus? Was there a good-looking girl in -the way? And you a married man. For shame of you!' - -Between the awful visage of Mr. Stoate and the running fire of chaff -from his mates, Greenwell looked rather nonplussed. - -However, girding himself for the contest, he mustered up courage, and -thus delivered himself. - -'Well, boys, the long and short of it is, I was took ill at Junee, on -the return journey, and after stayin' a day, just as I was startin' -back, some old mates of mine, as had just cut out at Hangin' Rock, come -along, and—well, the truth's the truth, we all got on a bit of a spree. -Now the murder's out, and you can make the best of it. I don't see as -there's anything broke, so far.' - -'Anything broke,' retorted Stoate indignantly. 'Hasn't the shed been cut -out, in direct disobedience of orders, and the Union treated with -contempt?' - -'We're just gettin' our cheques,' called out a young fellow at the back -of the crowd. 'Jolly awkward, ain't it? But I'll get over it, and so'll -Dick Dawson.' - -When the weighty matter of the payment was over, and the men were -finishing their 'wash and brush up,' getting up their horses and -settling their packs, one of the older men approached Stanford, who was -quietly proceeding with his preparations, and thus addressed him— - -'Now, Jim, you knowed that chap afore, didn't yer? Hadn't yer no notion -as he might get on a "tear," with money in his pocket, and half nothin' -to do like?' - -Mr. Stanford made no verbal answer, but drawing himself up to the full -height of his exalted stature, looked down into the interrogator's face, -with an expression of great solemnity. It is just possible that he may -have observed a slight deflection in the corner of his left eye, as he -relaxed the severity of his countenance, while he observed resignedly, -'Well, it might have been worse; I've got the boss's cheque for -£57:14s., and a few notes for the road in my pocket, this blessed -minute.' - -'Mine's a shade more'n that,' replied 'Long Jim,' with deliberation. -'"All's well that ends well" 's a good motter. I've done enough for this -season, I reckon. I had a fairish fencing contract in the winter. It'll -be time enough to think about the "dignity of labour" and the "ethics of -war" (wasn't that what the Head Centre called 'em?) afore next shearin' -comes round. I'm off to a cooler shop across the Straits.' - -The shearing at Tandara having ended satisfactorily to the shearer, the -sheep-washers, the rouseabouts, the boundary riders, the overseers, to -every one connected with the establishment in fact, from the 'ringer' to -the tar-boy, all of whose wages and accounts were paid up to the last -hour of the last day, in fact to every one except Mr. Janus Stoate, -whose remuneration was in the future, a great silence commenced to -settle down upon the place so lately resounding with the 'language used, -and the clamour of men and dogs.' The high-piled waggons, drawn by -bullock teams of from twelve to twenty, and horse teams of nearly the -same number, had rolled away. The shed labourers had walked off with -swags on their backs. The shearers, many of whom had two horses, poor in -condition when they came, but now sleek and spirited, had ridden off -with money in both pockets, full of glee and playful as schoolboys. The -great shed, empty save for a few bales of sheepskins, was carefully -locked up, as were also the shearers' and the other huts. Even Bower, -the grim night-guardian of the woolshed, liberally remunerated, had left -for Melbourne by Cobb and Co.'s coach. There, among other recreations -and city joys, he betook himself to the Wax-works in Bourke Street. - -As with hair and beard trimmed, newly apparelled from top to toe, he -wandered around, looking at the effigies of former friends and -acquaintances, now, alas, cut off in their prime, or immersed in the -dungeon of the period for such venial irregularities as burglary, -highway robbery, manslaughter, and the like, his gaze became fixed, his -footsteps arrested. He stands before the waxen, life-like presentment of -a grizzled elderly man, in rough bush habiliments, his hat a ruin, his -clothes ragged and torn, his boots disreputable. A double-barrelled gun -rests on his shoulder, while above his head is a placard, on which in -large letters could seen by the staring spectator— - - 'HARRY BOWER, THE CELEBRATED BUSHRANGER.' - -Cut to the heart, not so much by the heartless publicity of the -affair as by the disgraceful attempt to brand him as a dirty -disreputable-_looking_ individual, he glared angrily at his -simulacrum. 'And me that was always so tasty in my dress,' he -muttered. So saying, he seized the hapless figure by the arm, and -dragging it along with wrathful vehemence, made for the door. - -'Oh, Mr. Bower, Mr. Bower!' cried the proprietress, 'ye'll ruin him—I -mane yerself. Sure ye wouldn't go to injure a poor widdy woman, and all -the people sayin' it's your dead imidge.' - -'Imidge of me, is it?' shouted Bower, the furious, ungovernable temper -of the 'long sentence convict' breaking out. 'I'll tache ye to make a -laughing-stock of Harry Bower, this day. Ye might have dressed me -dacent, while ye wor about it.' - -So saying, he dragged the inanimate malefactor through the door, and -casting him down upon the Bourke Street pavement, commenced to kick him -to pieces, to the great astonishment of the crowd which speedily -gathered around him. A rumour had started that 'Bower the bushranger was -killing a man outside the Wax-works,' and before many minutes the street -was blocked with men, women, and children, lured to the spot by the -expectation of seeing a real live bushranger in the exercise of his -bloodthirsty vocation. - -A few minutes later—having dissevered several vital portions of the -'Frankenstein' individual, and, like Artemus Ward's enthusiastic Bible -Christian, who 'caved Judassis' head in,' more or less demolished the -victim—Mr. Bower, desisting, stalked moodily up the street, his peculiar -reputation not leading any one to volunteer pursuit. There was no -constable in sight, so the Mrs. Jarley of the establishment was left to -her lamentations, and the dubious satisfaction of a remedy by civil -process. - -Next day, below startling headlines, similar paragraphs appeared in the -leading journals. - - 'AN EX-BUSHRANGER. - - '_Assault with intent to do grievous bodily harm._ - -'About three o'clock yesterday afternoon, such denizens of Bourke Street -as were passing Mrs. Dooley's interesting collection of Wax-works were -alarmed by the spectacle of an aged man of athletic proportions, who had -assaulted an individual of similar age and appearance; had thrown him -down on the pavement, and was savagely kicking him about the head and -the body; indeed it was feared—such was the fury of his gestures—that he -was actually trampling the unfortunate victim of his rage to death. None -dared to interfere, every one appeared paralysed; but after one or two -public-spirited individuals had started for the Swanston Street police -station, an adventurous bystander called out, 'Why, it's a wax figure.' -Though a shout of laughter greeted the announcement, no one cared to -remonstrate with the hero of so many legends—the man who, long outlawed, -and captured after a desperate resistance, had barely escaped the -gallows for the manslaughter of the warders of the hulk _President_ in a -frustrated plot for escape—the dreaded bushranger, Henry Bower. We have -since learned that this attempt at _felo de se_ (in wax)—for the injured -individual turned out to be a fairly correct likeness of himself—can -only be proceeded for as a debt, which Bower in his cooler moments will -not be averse to liquidating, he having returned from the bush with a -reasonably large cheque, earned in the service of an old employer, who -gave him a berth at a couple of pounds a week as night-watchman of his -woolshed. In these times of disturbance and incendiary troubles, most of -our readers will concur with our opinion, that old Harry Bower, with his -double-barrel, not swayed by frivolous objection to bloodshed, was, in -such a position of trust, "the right man in the right place."' - - * * * * * - -When the shearers took their cash or cheques as each elected, and -departed, splitting into small parties, on different routes, division of -opinion took place likewise. Bill Hardwick openly declared his -intention, as did several others, to 'cut the Shearers' Union' and go -'on their own' for the future. 'I've had enough of this Union racket,' -said he, as, lighting his pipe, and jogging off with his two fat horses, -saddled and packed, he prepared to take the 'down river' road. 'I don't -see no points in being bossed by chaps like this Stead, and callin' -theirselves chairmen and presidents, and what not—fellers as have done -dashed little but blather this years and years. They've turned dog on -the squatters as trusted 'em and "went Union," and deuced near done us -out of six weeks' hard graft at this very shed. We've got our cash, -boys; that'll carry us on for a bit. But suppose we'd turned out when -that galoot at Wagga wanted us to, where should we be now? Travellin' -the country without a shillin' in our pockets, our shearin' money -forfeited by the next police magistrate (and serve us right, too, for -bein' such bally fools), and summonses and warrants out against every -man on the board. I'm full of Mr. Head Centre at Wagga, with his top -hat, and gold chain, and his billiards, as our money goes to pay for. -But he won't get none of mine to monkey with, nor you either, Janus -Stoate, and so you may tell him next time you wire.' - -'I'll report your language to the Union secretary, William Hardwick, -never fear,' replied Stoate, fixing his snaky eye upon him. 'You'll soon -know which is the strongest—you or the Association, as protects the -workers' interests. So I warn you, and all others as is fools enough to -stand by you.' - -'That'll do, Mr. Delegate,' said Bill; 'don't you go to bully me. Say -another word, and I'll give you a smack or two, that'll make a better -yarn when you're touching up the tell-tale business for the Head Centre. -I'm off to Moorara, where there's 300,000 sheep to shear, and a board -only half full. Who's comin' my way?' - -There had been a hum of approbation when Bill finished his humble -oratorical effort, after which a dozen of the best and fastest shearers -announced their intention to go with him, to the wrath and despair of -Mr. Stoate. - -'I'll be even with you, Bill Hardwick,' he yelled, 'and you too, Johnny -Jones—see if I don't. You'll get no stands from us this year, nor next -either.' - - * * * * * - -A hundred and fifty miles below Tandara. A red-walled promontory -overlooking the Darling, in this year a broad, majestic stream, with -anabranches of equal breadth and volume running out for many a mile, -where the river steamers took their course, cutting off corners, and, -because of the depth of water in this most bountiful season, almost -indifferent to obstacles. Here stood the great Head Station of Moorara. -Miles of fencing of substantial character surrounded it on all sides. -There was none of the ordinary carelessness as to finish, popularly -supposed to be characteristic of back-block stations 'a thousand miles -from everywhere,' as had been said descriptively by an imaginative -tourist. On the contrary, every hut, paling, fence, gate, wall, and roof -in that immense holding was in what old-fashioned English country people -called 'apple-pie order.' - -Everything was mended and kept right, up to date. Six carpenters and -three blacksmiths lived on the premises all the year round. There was no -waiting until that pastoral millennium 'after shearing' arrived. -Everything was done at once, and done well. The 'stitch in time' was an -article of the faith at Moorara, and, as such, religiously observed. If -any superficial judging tourist, observing these things, ventured to -remark that such improvements must have cost a mint of money, or to hint -a doubt whether such a place 'paid,' he was frowned down at once and -haughtily reminded that this was Moorara, the property of the Hon. Mr. -M'Cormack, whose sheep shorn last year (this was _one_ of his long list -of stations) would total up to over a million! - -Just calculate what so many fleeces come to, the average weight being -eight or nine pounds, and the value per head _rarely_ under as many -shillings. Then, of course, there are the other stations, carrying six -hundred thousand high-class merino sheep! - -Now the woolshed to which Bill and his ten or twelve companions were -bound was one of which the owner had 'stood out' from the first against -the tyranny of the Shearers' Union. - -As Bill and his companions journeyed down the river, rumour reached them -of serious developments of the Great Strike. This protest against the -alleged dictation of Capital had reached its culminating stage. The -o'er-vaulting ambition of the State-school educated Mr. Stead, the -originator and prime mover of the Civil War, which was now fully -recognised, had struck a blow at the State itself—that State under which -he had been bred and nurtured, fed, protected, and presented with a -'free, compulsory, and secular education.' He had justified the -forebodings of old-fashioned Conservatives, who had always doubted the -wisdom of educating the labouring classes at the expense of the -ratepayers, of breeding up an army of enemies to Capital and to the -settled order of the Government. - -And now the long-threatened result _had_ come to pass—a revolt against -order and good government, a deliberate attempt to subvert the -Constitution under the specious guise of federated labour. It had -commenced with a quarrel between the cook's mate of a coasting steamer -and the so-called 'delegate' of the crew, spreading with portentous -rapidity, like the bush-fires of the land, until it enveloped the -stock-riders of the Paroo and the teamsters of 'the Gulf.' It menaced -life and property. It attempted to plunge cities into darkness by -'calling out' the gas-stokers. It essayed to paralyse commerce by -intimidating the carriers, whom it forbade to convey the wool—the staple -Australian export—to the wharves, by restraining the wharf labourers -from loading the vessels. - -But, in these two instances, the common-sense of the city populations -came to the rescue. The young men of the learned professions, of the -upper classes—in the true sense of the word—came out to play a man's -part in the interests of law and order. They manned the gas-works, and, -amid furnace-heat and grime, provided the necessary labour, all unused -as they were to toil under such conditions. The cities were _not_ -wrapped in darkness, and the streets were _not_ made ready for the spoil -by the burglar, the garrotter, and the thief. A line of wool teams was -driven down the principal street of Sydney by barristers and bankers, by -clerks and merchants, chiefly young men, high-couraged and athletic. But -on the foremost waggon, high-seated behind his four-horse team, which he -tooled with practised ease, might be recognised the leonine visage and -abundant beard of Winston Darling, the Explorer, the Pioneer Squatter, -the well-known Pastoral Leader and Ruler of the Waste. - -The streets were crowded with yelling, blaspheming, riotous Unionists, -with difficulty kept within bounds by a strong body of police. - -Stones were thrown, and foul epithets freely used. But though one -youthful driver had his head cut open, no further damage was done. And -the wool was safely conveyed to the wharves and shipped in spite of the -threatening demeanour of the assembled thousands. - -These amateurs, native-born Australian gentlefolk, worked for weeks, -from six to six, in many instances galling the hands, which were wholly -unused to such rude treatment. But they kept at it till the stubborn -conflict subsided, and not till then did they fall out of the ranks of -the 'muscle-workers,' who in this and other instances have arrogated to -themselves the title of the _only workers_ in this complex and -many-sided body politic. - -This demonstration was chiefly confined to the seaports. When, however, -the Ministry was sufficiently strong to call out the Volunteer -regiments, their disciplined action gained control of the disorderly -mobs, and order was regained, without discouraging delay. - -But in the bush, far from help, police or military protection, matters -were far otherwise. Lonely stations were terrorised. Large camps of -armed and apparently desperate men were formed, who intimidated those -non-Union shearers and bush labourers who neither conformed to their -rules nor submitted to their dictation. - -They were in many cases captured, so to speak, assaulted, maltreated, -and illegally restrained from following their lawful occupation. The -carriers' horses or bullocks were driven away or slaughtered, their -waggons, in some instances, burned. - -These outrages were directed against men and their employers who had -dared to be independent, to exercise the right of free Britons to manage -their own affairs and their own property. - -It may easily be imagined how bodies of two or three hundred men, well -armed and mounted, could terrorise a thinly-populated country. Specific -acts of incendiarism and other offences against property were frequent. -Woolsheds were burned with their contents, sometimes to the value of -thousands of pounds; fences were cut and demolished; bridges and -telegraph lines destroyed; in short, no lawless action which could -result in expense and loss to the pastoralist, or those of the labourers -who defied the New Tyranny, was omitted. - - - CHAPTER IV - -Some explanation of the Great Australian Strike of 1890, which lasted in -more or less virulence and intensity until 1895, producing widespread -damage and ruinous loss, may not here be out of place. - -This important industrial conflict exhibited the nearest approach to -civil war which Australia has known. It originated, as did certain -historical revolutions and mutinies, from an occurrence ludicrously -insignificant compared with the magnitude of the results and the -widespread disasters involved. - -A fireman was discharged by the captain of a coasting steamer belonging -to the Tasmanian Steam Navigation Company, whereupon the Seamen's Union -took up the matter, the man being their 'delegate,' and demanded his -reinstatement. - -He had been 'victimised,' they asserted, by the chief steward, who must -be dismissed or the fireman reinstated. The Cooks' and Stewards' Union, -in the interests of the chief steward, held an inquiry, in conjunction -with the Seamen's Union, to which the fireman belonged. The result -failed to substantiate any charge against the chief steward. But the -Seamen's Union decided to hold the captain responsible, threatening to -take the crew out of the ship. No inquiry was asked of the owners. - -About a month after the threat the crew gave notice, and were paid off. -The captain had received the following letter:— - - 'SEAMEN'S UNION OFFICE, - SYDNEY, _July 1890_. - -'Captain ——, Steamer ——. - -'DEAR SIR—We are instructed by the members of the above Society to state -that we intend to have our delegate —— reinstated on board. If he is not -reinstated by the return of the ship to Sydney, the crew will be given -twenty-four hours' notice. - -'We intend to protect our members from being victimised (_sic_) by chief -stewards and others, and intend at all hazards to have him reinstated.—I -remain, yours truly, - - 'THE PRESIDENT AND ACTING SECRETARY.' - - * * * * * - - 'SYDNEY, _6th July 1890_. - -'The Acting Secretary. - -'SIR—With regard to your letter as to the discharge of a fireman from -the steamer _Corinna_, the captain informs me that the chief steward had -nothing whatever to do with the discharge. The fireman made no complaint -about his food. He was discharged in the Company's interests, but there -is no objection to his joining any other of the Company's vessels. The -captain also was not aware that he was a delegate, and had nothing to do -with his discharge. It seems strange that men should leave the Company -without explanation, while the Company is denied the same right.—I -remain, etc.' - - * * * * * - -Now, what in the world had the colliers of Newcastle, N.S.W., to do with -the injustice or otherwise meted out to the fireman through that -powerful and distinguished official, the ship's cook, or even by the -chief steward? Such would be the common-sense view of any ordinary -person, especially if he had been reared in the belief that 'mind your -own business' was a maxim of weight and authority, verified by the lore -of ages. Not so thought the leaders of the mining community. A fatal -fascination appeared to have actuated one and all under the influence of -a false and specious principle. - -No sooner had the steamer arrived at the Agricultural Association's -wharf desiring a cargo of coal than the miners 'came out' of the Sea -Pit, at that time in full work. Then the Northern Colliery owners, -justly indignant at this breach of agreement, stopped work at all the -pits under their control. Fourteen days' notice should have been given -by the miners, on the terms of their agreement. - -There was no grievance between master and man, and yet at the bidding of -an outside person the miners abandoned their work without notice. - -The Unionist shearers, at the instigation of their dictator, hasted to -join the revolt. They commenced to formulate an agreement imposing -higher pay, shorter hours, the supervision of sheds by workmen appointed -by themselves, the deposition of the rule of the employer over his own -work, as to his own property, in his own woolshed. - -Then the employers, up to that time slow to move and more or less -disunited, saw that the time had come for them to combine against the -tyranny of a communistic organisation. The Shearers' Union, however, as -represented by their president, thought it improper of other people to -form Unions. They began to threaten as follows:— - -'Should the employers maintain their present attitude, the trades' -organisation will be compelled to use _every means_ to win their cause, -methods which at present they have avoided. - -'For instance, they could call out _all the shearers_ (_sic_), and at -one blow cause widespread disaster. [This they did later on, including -those who, in reliance on their promises, were shearing under Union -Rules.] The effects of such a step would be to paralyse the whole -industry of the colony. In Victoria, shearing is only just commencing. -In New South Wales it is barely half over. At the Labour Conference in -Sydney it was decided that the Western miners be called out next day. -This meant cutting off the sole remaining coal supply of the colony. -Decided also that all the shearers, rouseabouts, and carriers be called -out. Instructions sent accordingly. - -'In New South Wales alone this will affect 22,000 shearers, 15,000 -rouseabouts, 10,000 carriers also, together with all affiliated trades, -such as butchers, bakers, grocers, and compositors. Whether the railway -men will be included cannot be now ascertained.' - -As a sample of the class of arguments used to set class against class, -and to inflame the minds of the bush labourers against their employers, -the following circular, signed by the leaders, and privately -distributed, may serve as a specimen. It was headed:— - - AN APPEAL TO STATION LABOURERS. - -'A shed labourer's lot is not a happy one. To work all hours and to -endure all manner of privations. To work hard for a miserable starvation -wage. A victim of capitalistic greed and tyranny. Suffering _worse -treatment than the negro slaves_ of the Southern States of America. The -reason for this being that they have had no means of protection. Let -them unite. Let them be men, free men, and have a voice in the -settlement of the terms at which they shall sell their labour. - -'The rights of the labourers will then be recognised. Capital will no -longer have Labour by the throat. The mighty heritage of a glorious -independence is in their grasp. - -'Let them rise above the bondage of capital, and be a unit in that which -will make one powerful whole—the General Woolshed Labourers' Union of -Australia!' - - * * * * * - -That this sort of language was calculated to arouse the passions and -heighten the prejudices of uneducated men may well be conceded. The -ludicrous comparison with the 'wrongs of slaves' in the Southern States -of America might raise a smile, had not reports of outrages, unhappily -but too well authenticated, followed this and similar proclamations. - -However, the Employers' Union and the Pastoral Association were not -minded to submit tamely to the oppression of a 'jacquerie,' however -arrogant, as the following extract from a metropolitan journal, under -date 22nd September 1890, will show:— - -'In Sydney that picturesque procession of lorries, loaded with non-Union -wool, and driven by leading merchants and squatters, will once more -betake itself through the streets, and may be the signal of actual civil -war. These waggons, with their unaccustomed drivers, embody in a -dramatic shape that aspect of the strike in which the Unionists have -morally the weakest case. The shearers have undertaken to make Unionism -_compulsory_ at one stroke, in every woolshed in Australia, by the -tyrannical process of forbidding every bale of wool shorn by -non-Unionists to reach a market. Why must merchants and squatters, at -the risk of their lives, drive these particular bales of wool to the -wharf? We frankly hope that the wool "boycott" will break down -hopelessly, ignobly. All reasonable men are against this fatal blunder -of the Unionists.' - -Commencing in 1890 among men 'who go down to the sea in ships,' the -revolt against employment and authority spread among 'all sorts and -conditions of men' dwelling in the continent of Australia. All trades -and occupations by which the muscle-workers of the land, falsely assumed -to be the only labourers worthy of the name of 'working-men,' were -attempted to be captured and absorbed. To account for the readiness with -which the new gospel of labour was accepted, it must be borne in mind -that many of the better-educated labourers and mechanics had been for -years supplied by their leaders with so-called socialistic literature. -They had in a sense sat at the feet of apostles of the school of Henry -George and Mr. Bellamy. - -The former was convinced that all the 'riddles of the painful earth' -might be solved by the taxation and gradual confiscation of land; this -plausible-appearing policy would remove all the oppressions and -exactions under which the excellent of the earth had so long groaned. -Mr. Bellamy's method of procuring universal happiness, solvency, and -contentment was simple and comprehensive. Every adult was to be -compelled to labour for four hours of the day—no one to be permitted to -work for _more_ than this very reasonable, recreational period. Every -one to be pensioned when he or she reached the age of sixty. - -By this happy apportionment of the primeval curse, every one would be -obliged to furnish a sufficient quantity of labour to provide for his -own and other people's wants. - -No one would be expected to do a full day's work—always unpopular as a -task, and suspected to be unwholesome. - -Dining and Music Halls, an artistic atmosphere, with all mental and -physical luxuries, to be provided by the State, in exchange for Labour -Coupons of specified value. - -It cannot be doubted that speculative theories of this nature, proposals -for minimising labour and dividing the wealth, accumulated by the -industry and thrift of ages, among individuals who had neither worked -nor saved for its maintenance, had a wide-reaching influence for evil -among the members of the Labour Unions. Dazzled by alluring statements, -they were ready to adopt the wildest enterprises, founded on delusive -principles and untried experiments. - -Perhaps the most important of the Utopian projects, which at the close -of the conflict found favour in the eyes of the Unionists, was that of a -Communistic settlement in Paraguay, to which the leader, an Americanised -North Briton, gave the name of New Australia. This was to be somewhat on -the lines of the settlement so delicately satirised by Hawthorne in the -_Blithedale Romance_. - -It was decided by a caucus of certain wise men of the Union that a -country where the dietary scale for working-men was the most liberal in -the world, the hours of work the _shortest_, the pay the highest, the -climate the most genial, the franchise the most liberal, was not adapted -for British labourers. It was accordingly agreed to establish a -co-operative community in a foreign land, where brotherly love and the -unselfish partition of the necessaries of life might exhibit to an -admiring world an ideal State, free from the grasping employer and the -callous capitalist. This modern Utopia they proposed to call New -Australia. Money not being so scarce among Australian labourers as, from -the tremendous denunciations of their leader, which freely compared them -to negro slaves (only worse paid, fed, and driven), might have been -supposed, they were expected to pay sixty pounds each towards the -charter and freight of a suitable vessel. - -This notable plan they carried out. One man indeed sold a cottage in a -country town for £400, and putting the cash into the common fund, sailed -away for South America amid great jubilation from the Radical press and -Labour organs; thankful, however, before long to work his passage back -to England. - -Hope and Mr. W. G. Spence told a flattering tale before experience came -to the audit. A tract was found in the Paraguayan Chaco—'234,000 acres, -well watered and timbered—splendid land,' thus described in the New -Australia newspaper, the journal of the New Co-operative Settlement -Association, Wagga, New South Wales, 28th January 1892. - -In September 1893 two hundred and sixty New Australians arrived to take -possession of the Promised Land. Even on board ship differences of -opinion arose. In December there was a notable desertion. The -'five-meal, meat-fed men' doubtless thought sadly of poor 'Old -Australia,' where they had no dictator and few privations, save those -irreparable from high wages and good food. They missed many things for -which they had been the reverse of thankful, when supplied gratis. They -even missed the police and the magistrate. One man at any rate did, who -was thrashed for impertinence, and could not so much as take out a -summons for assault. They must have gasped when they saw, in their own -journal, in answer to questions—'A. K. If you didn't like it, you could -leave. The equal annual yearly division of wealth production would -enable you to ship back to Australia, if you wanted to.' Many wanted to, -but the Dictator's reply, slightly altered from that of Mr. Mawworm in -_The Serious Family_, was—'We deeply sympathise, but we _never_ refund.' -As to how the deserters got to Buenos Ayres, on their way 'home,' -doubtless many tales of adventure could be told. The equal partition did -not work out well. No one had a right to anything, apparently—milk for a -sick child—a razor—any trifling personal possession, when all had a -right to everything. The dissatisfaction deepened to despair. The 'rest -is silence.' Migration to the 'Gran Chaco' is played out. - -The Shearers' Strike drifted into the Shearers' War. Not vigorously -dealt with at the beginning by the Government of any colony, it -emboldened the agitators, who called themselves tribunes of the people, -to suggest bolder assaults upon the law, to carry out yet more dangerous -disturbances of the public peace. - -The specious process of 'picketing'—an illegal practice involving insult -and intimidation, under the transparent guise of 'persuasion'—was -tacitly permitted. Becoming habituated to the assembling in force, armed -and drilled in military fashion, it was patent to the lowest -intelligence that the Government, if worthy of the name, must confront -these menacing and illegal levies. - -The tardy Executives, which had watched the ill-usage of free citizens, -the burning of woolsheds, the killing of stock, with apparent apathy, -now became alarmed and ordered out the Volunteer regiments. Directly a -disciplined contingent, properly armed and officered, took the field, -the pseudo-guerillas disbanded and disappeared. If prompt measures had -been taken at the start, years of demoralisation and damage, loss of -wages, and ruin of property would have been saved both to employers and -workmen. - -Such a disgraceful incident as that reported from Bowen Downs in July -1895 might never have occurred. - -'A private message states that _two attempts_ have been made within -three days to poison free shearers here. On the first occasion eight men -were poisoned; on the second, forty-nine.' - -A Barcaldine telegram states: 'Forty-nine fresh cases reported from -Bowen Downs. Strychnine suspected to have been put into the meat and -sago pudding used by the men. A letter received states that the scenes -in the shed at Bowen Downs were beyond description. The men, contorted -with agony, lying about in all shapes. One man named Thomas has since -died. He is not known in the district. Name probably an assumed one. -Richardson, one of five brothers, said to be very bad; also Christie -Schultz; a second death expected. - -'Bowen Downs was managed by Mr. Fraser for a Scottish Investment -Company. It is expected that 250,000 sheep will be shorn there this -year. Sharing in the "strike troubles" last year (1894), the sheep were -shorn by free labourers and some Unionists. - -'They followed the example of Howe and others on the Barcoo run, and -went to work in defiance of the Union mandate. This year many of the -same men returned to the station to shear. - -'The authorities had previous information that poisoning was likely to -be resorted to on some stations. The Aramac and Mutta-burra police are -at the station. No evidence was attainable against the authors of this -cowardly crime, resulting in one murder at least, and the possible death -of a score or more of their fellow-workmen. It is significant, however, -as against the theory of _accident_, that the injured men, well-nigh -sick unto death, were _free shearers_. - -'It is notorious that elaborate preparations have been made for -committing further outrages on property, and violence on persons. -Hitherto the Government has erred on the side of insufficient precaution -and protection to loyal subjects. - -'Violence and intimidation, on the other hand, have been approved by the -Labour Federations. A demand is made by them that employers should not -be allowed the right to employ any but Union men, on Union terms. Such -an edict is inadmissible in a free country. So Sir Samuel Griffith, -C.J., of Queensland, stated the case. - -'The Moreton Mounted Infantry left by the Wodonga for the seat of the -disturbance. In consequence of further outrages by the so-called Labour -organisations, one of which was the shooting of a team of working -bullocks, eleven in number, belonging to a non-Union carrier, Colonel -French has been sent to the north with a force of 130 men, having also a -field-piece and a Gatling gun. The Union leaders had boasted of the -wreck and ruin of squatting property which would follow the strike.' - -In the second year of the revolt a special parade of the Queensland -Mounted Infantry was ordered. They were ready to a man. In view of the -outrages already committed, and the justifiable expectation of more to -follow, military protection was manifestly needed. This drew forth a -pathetic remonstrance from the 'General Secretary of the Australian -Labour Federation.' He was virtuously indignant at the whole force of -the Government being 'strained to subjugate the wage-earners of the -central district, under the dictation of capitalistic organisations.' It -was emphasised that 'the Australian Labour Federation's steady influence -had always been used to substitute peaceful agitation and moderation for -needless suspension of industry. The Government is urged to use its -influence to induce organised capitalism to meet organised labour in the -conference.' - -The high official so addressed replied: 'The Government is merely -endeavouring to maintain law and order; to punish disorder, violence, -and crime. The existing state of matters is misrepresented by the Labour -organs.' - -As might have been expected, manslaughter and arson, if not murder and -spoliation, _did_ result from this and similar teachings. Some of these -crimes were undetected, others were partially expiated by imprisonment; -while in more instances the wire-pullers—the deliberate and wilful -offenders against the law of the land—escaped punishment. But when the -burning of the _Dundonald_ took place, with the capture of free -labourers by disguised men, the tardy action of the Executive was -accelerated. That the apprehensions of the dwellers in the pastoral -districts, and their appeals to the Government of the day in the first -years of the strike, were not without foundation, an extract from a -letter taken, among others, from the person of an arrested 'labour -organiser,' affords convincing proof. - - 'QUEENSLAND LABOUR UNION, MARANOA BRANCH, - 'ROMA, _10th March 1891_. - -'DEAR GEORGE—It is a mistake collecting our men at the terminus of the -railway. Better to split them up in bodies of a hundred and fifty each. -One lot to stop at Clermont, another at Tambo; others at outside -stations, such as Bowen Downs, Ayrshire Downs, Richmond Downs, Maneroo, -West-lands, Northampton, and Malvern Hills. Say a hundred and fifty at -Maranoa; same below St. George. Every station that a hundred and fifty -men came to would demand police protection from the Government. Then, if -you wanted to make a grand coup, send mounted messengers round and have -all your forces concentrated, away from railways if possible, and force -the running by putting _a little more devil_ into the fight. They will -have no railways to cart the Gatling guns and Nordenfeldts about.—Yours, -etc. - - NED ——.' - -Such were the missives which passed between the 'labour organisers' and -their 'brother officers.' Small wonder that the rank and file were -stirred up to deeds of wrong and outrage, stopping short by accident, or -almost miracle, of the 'red fool-fury of the Seine.' Imagine the anxiety -and apprehension at the lonely station, miles way from help, with a -hundred and fifty horsemen, armed and threatening, arriving perhaps at -midnight—the terror of the women, the mingled wrath and despair of the -men. And the temperate suggestion of the labour organiser to 'put a -little more devil into the fight, to force the running!' - -Doubtless it would, but not quite in the manner which this calculating -criminal intended. Such a wave of righteous indignation would have been -evoked from the ordinarily apathetic surface of Australian politics, -that the culprits and their cowardly advisers would have been swept from -the face of the earth. - -If it be doubted for a moment whether the serious acts of violence and -outrage alluded to were actually committed, or, as was unblushingly -asserted by the so-called democratic organs, invented, exaggerated, -or—most ludicrous attempt at deception of all—got up by _capitalists and -squatters_ for the purpose of throwing _discredit upon Unionists_, let a -list of acts perpetrated in deliberate defiance of the law of the land -be produced in evidence. - -The Dagworth woolshed had seven armed men on watch, as the Unionists had -threatened to burn it. Among them were the Messrs. Macpherson, owners of -the station. When the bushranger Morgan was killed at Pechelbah, in -their father's time, they hardly expected to have to defend Dagworth -against a lawless band humorously describing themselves as Union -Shearers. - -In spite of their defensive operations, a ruffian crawled through and -set fire to the valuable building, which was totally consumed. - -They were armed, and shots were freely interchanged. One Unionist found -dead was believed to be one of the attacking party. - -The 'Shearers' War' languished for a time, but was still smouldering -three years afterwards, as on the 4th of August 1894 the Cambridge Downs -woolshed was burnt. This was a very expensive building, in keeping with -the size and value of the station, where artesian bores had been put -down, and artificial lakes filled from the subterranean water-flow. -Money had been liberally, lavishly spent in these and other -well-considered improvements, aids to the working of the great -industrial enterprise evolved from the brain of one man, and having -supported hundreds of labourers and artisans for years past. In the -great solitudes where the emu and kangaroo or the roving cattle herds -alone found sustenance, the blacksmith's forge now glowed, the -carpenter's hammer rang, the ploughman walked afield beside his team, -the 'lowing herd wound slowly o'er the lea,' recalling to many an exiled -Briton his village home. - -The 'big house,' the squire-proprietor's abode, rose, garden-and -grove-encircled, amid the cottages and humbler homes which it -protected—a mansion in close resemblance, allowing for altered -conditions and more spacious surroundings, to homes of the Motherland, -which all loved so well. At what cost of head and hand, of toil, and -danger, and hardship, ay, even of blood, let the headstones in the -little shaded graveyard tell! And now, when long years, the best years -of early manhood, had been expended freely, ungrudgingly in the conflict -with Nature, was the workman, the junior partner in the enterprise, well -paid, well fed and housed during the doubtful campaign, the loss of -which could smite to ruin the senior, to lay his rash destroying hand -upon the beneficent structure he had helped to raise? - -Pulling down in suicidal mania, at the bidding of a secret caucus, the -industrial temple, which so surely would whelm him and his fellows in -its ruins! - -Ayrshire Downs woolshed followed suit. At Murweh, the roll of shearers -was about to be called, and fifty thousand sheep were ready for the -shears, when it was set on fire and burned—all the preparations for -shearing rendered useless. A makeshift woolshed would probably be run -up, which meant loss of time—hasty indifferent work, a few thousand -pounds loss and damage inevitable. At Combe-Marten a station hand was -shot, and several prisoners committed to take their trial at -Rockhampton. The woolshed at Errangalla was burned to the ground. - -The Netallie shed, with eighty thousand sheep in readiness, was -attempted to be set on fire—kerosene having been profusely exhibited for -the purpose—but, with all the goodwill (or rather bad) in the world, the -plot miscarried. After a riot at Netallie a large force of Unionists -attempted, but failed, to abduct the free labourers. - -At Grasmere woolshed the police were compelled to use firearms. Shortly -before 9 P.M. a hundred Unionists came to Grasmere, and gathered at the -men's huts, saying that they were armed and determined to bring out the -free labourers. Sergeant M'Donagh said they could not be allowed to do -so. He was felled to the ground, and the door of the free labourers' hut -smashed in with a battering-ram. Shots were exchanged between the police -and the Unionists. Two of the latter were wounded. One free labourer -fired with a revolver. The attacking party then retired, taking the -wounded men with them. - -The police overtook them, and, taking charge of the wounded men, -conveyed them to Wilcannia Hospital in a buggy. One was shot in the left -breast; the other near the same spot. The bullet travelled to the back, -near the spine. From the size of the bullet it would appear to have been -fired by a free labourer, the police navy revolvers carrying a larger -bullet. - -Unaware of the extreme length to which 'the ethics of war' (to use a -phrase grandiloquently applied in one of Mr. Stead's harangues) had been -pushed, Bill Hardwick and his comrades rode gay and unheeding 'down the -river.' - -They were within a dozen miles of Moorara, and had travelled late in -order to get to the station that evening, as shearing had commenced. An -unwonted sight presented itself. Before them lay a large encampment, -from which many voices made themselves heard, and around which were -fires in all directions. 'Hulloa!' said one of the men, 'what's all -this? Have they moved the station up, or what is it? Have the men got to -camp here because of the grass, and ride to Moorara and back, like boys -going to school?' - -'By Jove! it's a Union Camp,' said Bill; 'we'd better look out. They're -a rough lot here by all accounts. They might go for us if they hear -we've dropped the A.S.U.—for a bit.' - -'I don't see as they can do much,' said a grey-haired man, one of the -best shearers in the shed. 'We've come last from a Union shed. We've no -call to say more nor that till we get to Moorara.' - -'That's all right,' said a younger man, who, like Hardwick, was a -selector on the Upper Waters, 'but that sweep Janus Stoate might have -wired to the delegate here and put us away. Anyhow, we'll soon see.' - -'Who goes there?' suddenly demanded a voice from the pine scrub. 'Who -are you, and where from?' - -'Who are you, if it comes to that?' answered Bill. 'Is this here an -army, and are you goin' to take the bloomin' country, that a man can't -ride down the river on his own business?' - -'We'll soon learn yer,' said the man who had challenged. 'Where are yer -from last?' - -'From Tandara. It's a Union shed, I believe, and we shore under Union -Rules.' - -'We know all about that. What's yer name—is it William Hardwick?' - -'I never was called anything else,' answered Bill, who, now that he had -got his monkey up (as he would have said), cared for nothing and nobody. - -'Well, yer accused by the delegate, as was in charge of that shed, of -disobedience of orders; also of conspiring to bring the Union into -contempt, and of being on the way, with others, to shear at a non-Union -shed against the interests of the Australian Workers' Federated Union. -What d'ye say in reply to the charge?' - -'Go to the devil,' said Bill, at the same time spurring his horse. But -the strange man jumped at his bridle-rein, and though Bill got in a -right-hander, before he could get loose, armed men broke out of the pine -clump, and, rifle in hand, forced the party to dismount. - -'Tie their hands,' said the leader. 'We'll show the bally "scabs" what -it is to pal in with the squatters, as have ground down the workers long -enough. March 'em up to the camp and bring 'em afore the Committee.' - -'This is a jolly fine state of things,' said one of the younger men of -Bill's party. 'I used to believe this was a free country. One would -think we was horse-stealers or bushrangers. Are ye goin' to hang us, -mate?' - -'You hold yer gab, youngster, or it'll be the worse for you. We'll -straighten yer a bit, afore yer goes shearin' again in the wrong shed,' -said a man behind him, sourly, at the same time giving him a blow on the -back with the butt-end of a rifle. - -'By——! if my hands was loose, I'd give yer something to remember Dan -Doolan by, yer cowardly, sneakin', underhand dog, crawlin' after fellers -like Stoate, keepin' honest men out o' work, and spendin' it on spoutin' -loafers. Well, we'll see who comes out on top, anyhow,' upon which Mr. -Dan Doolan relapsed into silence—being 'full up,' as he would have -expressed it, of 'Government of the people, by the people, for the -people,' in its logical outcome. - -Arrived at the camp, they were surrounded by a crowd of men, looking -less like workmen of any kind than an array of freebooters. Nearly all -had arms. Others had apparently put them by for the night. They affected -a raffish, semi-military rig, and evidently regarded themselves as -revolutionists; which, in point of fact, they were. Not as yet, perhaps, -ripe for a policy of plunder and bloodshed, but within measurable -distance of it—needing but an accidental contest with the police or a -well-defended station (and there were such) to be irrevocably committed -to it. - -A great show of form and ceremony was aimed at, as Bill and his -companions in captivity were brought before half-a-dozen serious-looking -individuals, seated before a table outside of a tent of larger than -average size. One man was in the centre, and was addressed as Mr. -President. - -'Have you brought the suspected individuals, mentioned in the -communication received by the Committee this morning, before us?' - -'Yes, Mr. President. Here they are. We found them close by the camp, -a-ridin' towards Moorara.' - -'What are their names?' - -The apprehending personage read out from a telegraph form the names of -William Hardwick, Daniel Doolan, George Bond, Donald MacCallum, James -Atkins, Joseph Warner, John Stevens, Cyrus Cable, Thomas Hyland, John -Jones, William Murphy, Jacob Dawson, and Martin Hannigan. - -'You stand charged with obstructing the work of the Delegate of the -A.S.U. at Tandara, and disobeying an order to come out, sent by the duly -authorised Vice-President at Wagga Wagga. How do you plead?' - -'Is this a bally Supreme Court?' inquired Bill. 'What are we to plead -for? I never signed no agreement to obey a pair of loafers like Stoate -and Stead. I've seen one of 'em beg rations from a squatter, layin' by -to do him all the harm in his power, and the other tried his best to -take their money out of the pockets of hard-working men at Tandara. You -may talk till you're black in the face, I'm not goin' to play at court -work, for you or any other blatherskite, and so I tell you.' - -'Remove these men to the lock-up hut, and place a sentry before the -door,' said the chairman, with dignity. - -So Bill and Co. were hauled off, and bundled into a small hut, where -they spent the night without food or bedding. - -Their swags had been considerately taken care of, and their horses -turned out among the camp herd for the night. This done, they listened -to the order given to the sentry to shoot any man that attempted to come -out; and much musing upon the strange condition in which they found -themselves in their native country, spent the night in a most unpleasant -state of discomfort. - -As for the _corps d'armee_—as they, no doubt, considered themselves to -be—they were more jovial and self-contained. - -Songs and recitations were given, apparently met with admiration and -applause. Rifles and revolvers were discharged, as well to have the -loading replaced as to inform any employés of the adjoining station that -the camp was armed, and considered itself to be an independent, -well-provided contingent. Orations were made by speakers filled with -detestation of the tyranny of the squatter, and the malignant nature of -all Capital, except when diverted into the pocket of the virtuous (and -muscular) working-man. - -Hints were thrown out, not too closely veiled, of the retribution in -store for those treacherous enemies of the working-man, who, instead of -supporting him, like brothers, against the curse of Capital, presumed to -have opinions of their own, and exercised the right of private judgment -even against the interests of their own _Order_—this was a great word -with them. Dark suggestions were made with regard to a cargo of free -labourers (otherwise 'scabs' or blacklegs) now coming down river in a -steamboat. They were to be met and 'dealt with,' after what fashion the -speakers did not as yet enlighten their hearers. - -When the wire-pullers of the Australian Shearers' Union had converted or -terrorised the labourers of the land to such an extent that employers -were met at every turn by exorbitant demands, or impossible regulations, -it became necessary to form a Pastoral Association to oppose the -tyranny. For it was evident that unless united action was taken they -would be no longer permitted to manage their own affairs. - -The work and wages connected with an immense export, with a property to -the value of hundreds of millions sterling, were to be regulated by -irresponsible impecunious agents, chosen by a plebiscite of labourers -naturally unfitted for the direction of affairs involving important -national issues. - -Some idea of the magnitude of the interests involved may be gathered if -it is considered that the cost of management of the vast flock of sheep -depastured on the freehold and Crown lands of the colonies necessitates -the paying away annually not less than £10,000,000 sterling, most of -which is expended for wages, for shearing, and for stores. Shearing, -which lasts for a considerable period of each year, finds employment for -25,000 shearers, and the extra hands required in connection with this -work may be put up at 10,000 to 12,000. - -The following figures tend to further explanation of the position:—Value -of freehold land on which stock is depastured, £200,000,000 sterling; -value of sheep and plant, £100,000,000 sterling. The income from the -properties is, as nearly as possible—from wool, say £22,000,000, from -surplus stock £5,250,000, and stock £27,250,000. - -The outgoings will be—for wages, carriage, stores, £10,000,000; interest -on £300,000,000 capital at 5¾ per cent, £17,250,000; total outgoing, -£27,250,000. The returns are comparatively small, taking the whole of -the population together. - -The frequent droughts, causing the loss of millions of sheep, with other -ills and ailments fatal to stock, have not been taken into the -calculation. The properties as a whole will bear no increase in cost of -management. - -Another reason which actuated the employers, pastoralists, merchants, -and others connected with the pastoral industry, was that the sudden -withdrawal of their labourers was attended with greater loss and expense -than, say, in the case of mines or shipping. The mines could be closed, -the ships laid up. Expenditure on the part of owners would then cease -until the strike was ended. But, on the far back stations, wells had to -be worked, wood carted for machinery, edible shrubs cut for starving -sheep, in default of which _immediate loss_ of stock to a very great -extent would take place. - - - CHAPTER V - -One of the methods which the Pastoralists were compelled to use to -defeat the attempted domination of the Shearers' Union was to import -free labour: men who were contented to work for high wages and abundant -food; to obey those who paid, lodged, and fed them well. It may here be -stated that the fare in shearing time, provided for the shearers, the -station hands, and the supernumerary labourers, was such as might well -be considered not only sufficing and wholesome, but luxurious, in any -other part of the world. Three principal meals a day, consisting of beef -or mutton, good wheaten bread, pudding, vegetables when procurable; -three minor repasts of scones and cakes, with tea _ad libitum_; the -whole well cooked, of good quality, with no limitation as to quantity. -Where is the rural labourer in Europe similarly provided? - -Agencies were established in the principal towns of the colonies. Men -were hired and forwarded to such stations as were in need. The cost of -transit was paid by the associated employers. They were forwarded by -rail, by coach, on horseback, or by steamer, as such transit was -available. An unfair, even illegal system of intimidation, under the -specious name of 'picketing,' to prevent the men thus engaged from -following their lawful occupation, came into vogue. Unionists were -stationed along roads or near stations, nominally to 'persuade' the free -labourers not to fulfil their agreements, but, in reality, to threaten -and abuse, not infrequently with brutal violence to assault and -ill-treat the nonconformists. - -The majority of the Unionists were well-intentioned men, led away by -specious demagogues; but among them were lawless ruffians, who, -ignorantly prejudiced against their superiors and even their equals, who -had risen in life by the exercise of industry and thrift, were capable -of any villainy, not even stopping short of arson and bloodshed. Up to -this time the Ministry of the day had been tardy and over-cautious, both -in the protection of property and in the punishment of a criminal crew. -But they were gradually coming to a determination to stop such disorders -summarily. The strong arm of the law was invoked to that intent. For too -frequently had peaceable workmen, under the ban of the Unionist tyranny, -been captured, ill-treated, robbed, and temporarily deprived of their -liberty. - -Grown bold by previous toleration, the Union Camp by Moorara had -determined to make an example of this particular steamer, with her load -of free shearers and rouseabouts—to teach them what the penalty was of -withstanding the Australian Shearers' Union and bringing a load of -blacklegs past their very camp. - -It was nearly midnight when a scout galloped in to announce that the -_Dundonald_ was within half a mile of the camp, on her way down river -with fifty free labourers on board. - -'By the God of Heaven,' shouted a dissolute-looking shearer, 'we'll give -them a lesson to-night, if we never do it again. I know the agent well—a -d—d infernal swell, who looks upon working-men as dogs, and talks to -them like the dirt under his feet. I told him I'd meet him some day, and -that day's come.' - -'Come along, lads,' shouts an evil-faced larrikin from a city lane; -'let's give it 'em hot. We'll burn their bloomin' boat, and have roast -blackleg for breakfast.' - -'You'd as well mind your eye, my lad,' said a slow-speaking, -steady-going Sydney-sider, from Campbelltown. 'Seth Dannaker's the -skipper of this boat—I can hear her paddles now, and he'll shoot -straight if you meddle with his loadin'. You're not the sort to face -Seth's pea-rifle, 'nless yer got a fairish big tree in front of yer.' - -Upon this discouraging statement, the product of 'a city's smoke and -steam'—under-sized, untended from childhood, grown to manhood, untaught -save in precocious villainy—slunk into the background, while from the -centre of a group emerged the man who had posed as the 'President of the -Council,' and thus addressed the crowding shearers:— - -'Bring out Bill Hardwick and them other "scabs." We'll have 'em in front -when the shootin' begins. It'll do 'em good to feel what their friends' -tyranny's brought the people to.' - -The sentry was directed to quit his post, and a score of eager hands -competed for the privilege of dragging out the weary, famished men, and -rushing with them to the river-bank, while with slow, reverberating -strokes the measured beat of the paddles was heard, as the dimly-lighted -hull of the steamer showed amid the ebon darkness—the throbbing of her -overpowered engines sounding like the heart-beats of some monstrous -creature, slow-emerging from the channels of a prehistoric morass. - -'Boat ahoy!' shouted the President, with an accent telling of a seaman's -experiences. 'Heave to, and let us have a look at your passenger list.' - -'Who the hell are you, anyway?' was returned in answer—the intonation -confirming the Sydney-sider's information. 'What's my passenger list to -you? I'm bound to Moorara, and the men on board hev' their passage -paid—that's all I've to look to. Full steam ahead!' - -A derisive laugh was the only answer from the river-bank. But the -skipper's complacency was of short duration, as a violent shock almost -dislodged him from the bridge, and made every bit of loose timber, or -unsecured deck cargo, rock and rattle again. The _Dundonald_ had gone -full speed against a wire rope, or rather against two twisted together, -which had been feloniously taken from a punt higher up the river, -because the misguided lessee had carried across free labourers. - -A yell of exultation burst from the excited crowd, now fully determined -to board the obnoxious steamer, while a voice from their midst, after -commanding silence, called out, 'Steamer ahoy!' - -'Well, what is it? What do you want, stopping me on a voyage? You'd as -well take care; I'm a quiet man, but a bad one to meddle with.' - -'We want those infernal traitors you've got aboard.' - -'And suppose I won't give up my passengers?' - -'Then we'll burn yer bloomin' boat, and roast them and you along with -it. Don't yer make no mistake.' - -'Then you'd better come and do it.' - -At this defiance, a chorus of yells and execrations ascended through the -warm, still air, as a hundred men dashed into the tepid waters of the -smooth stream, the slow current of which hardly sufficed to bear them -below the steamer's hull. Like a swarm of Malay pirates, they clambered -on the low rail of the half barge, half steamer, which had done her -share in carrying the wool-crop of the limitless levels so many times to -the sea. But her last voyage had come. The crew stubbornly resisted. -Many a man fell backward, half stunned by blows from marline-spikes and -gun-stocks—though as yet only a few shots were fired—and more than one -of the rioters narrowly escaped death by drowning. But the 'free -labourers,' disordered by the suddenness of the onslaught, fought but -half-heartedly. Outnumbered by ten to one, they were driven back, foot -by foot, till they were forced aft, almost to the rail, before the -skipper yielded. - -A few shots had been fired from the bank before the charge through the -water was made, in the pious hope of hitting the captain or one of the -crew; better still, a free labourer. They were promptly returned, and -one of the men nearest the leader fell, shot through the body. But at -that moment the leader's strident voice was heard. 'Stop firin'; I'll -shoot the next man that holds up a gun. Let's catch 'em alive and deal -with 'em and their blasted boat afterwards. There's enough of yer to eat -'em!' - -When the surrender was imminent, the skipper had one of the boats -lowered—a broad-beamed, serviceable, barge-like affair, in which great -loads had been conveyed in the flooded seasons—and putting a white cloth -on to the end of his rifle-barrel, called for a parley. It was granted. - -'See here, yer darned pirates! I want a word or two. There's a ton of -powder on board, and the man you wounded with your cowardly first shoot -is sitting on a chair beside a coil of fuse, with a sperm candle and a -box of matches. It's a sure thing he won't live, and he don't love the -men that took his life, foul and coward-like. I'm to fire this revolver -twice for a signal, and next minute we'll all go to hell together, -sociable like. Jump into the boat, men, and take your guns, some grub, -and a tarpaulin. Those that like may stay with me—I stop with the ship.' - -If there's anything that undisciplined men fear, it is an explosion of -gunpowder. They did not know for certain whether there was any on board. -But if there was, there was no time to lose. A panic seized them, one -and all. The crew descended into the boat in good order, obeying the -captain's commands. His cool, decided voice imposed upon the rioters. -They tumbled into the river by scores—knocking over their comrades and -even striking them, like men in a sinking vessel, under the influence of -fear—until the last man had reached the bank, when they even ran some -distance in their terror before they could rid themselves of the fear of -hearing _too late_ the thunderous roar of the explosion, and being -hurled into eternity in an instant. - -The free labourers, on the other hand, from having assisted in the -navigation of the steamer in her slow voyage from Echuca, had made -themselves acquainted with every nook and cranny and pound of cargo on -the boat. They knew that there was no magazine, nor any powder, and, -divining the captain's ruse, made for the opposite bank with all -convenient speed. Those who could swim, lost no time; and those who -could not, escaped into the bush, undisturbed by the privateering crowd -that had been so valorous a few minutes before. - -When the boat returned and not before, the captain descended with -deliberation, remarking, 'Now, lads, we've got a clear track before us. -There ain't no powder, there ain't no wounded man, and I reckon them -long-shore skunks will find themselves in an all-fired mess when the -police come. There's a big body of 'em only ten miles from here, at -Moorara Station. We'll just make camp and have a snack—some of us want -it pretty bad. We'll build fires to warm those that's wet—wood's plenty. -Leave 'em burning and make down river so's to warn the police under -Colonel Elliot. The Union army won't cross before morning, for fear of -the old tub blowing up and making a scatteration among 'em.' - -The programme was carried out. The night was of Egyptian darkness. -Supper was hastily disposed of. The fires were freshly made up, and -shortly afterwards the whole contingent took the down-river road and by -daylight were miles away from the scene of the encounter. - -The unusually large body of police which had been ordered up by the -Government, to join with another force on the Darling, had made -rendezvous at Moorara, having heard from a scout that mischief, rather -above the ordinary limit, was being enacted near Poliah. When, next -morning, the captain and crew of the _Dundonald_, with the greater -portion of the free labourers, arrived, a strong sensation was aroused. -This was an unparalleled outrage, and, if unchecked, meant the -commencement of _Civil War_, plain and undisguised. - -What horrors might follow! A guerilla band, with its attendant -crimes—murder, pillage, outrage! Such a band of reckless desperadoes, -armed and mounted, like a regiment of irregular horse, was sufficient to -terrorise the country; gathering on the march, till every criminal in -the land that could steal a horse and a gun would be added to their -ranks in a surprisingly short time. - -Once launched on such a campaign of crime, the country would be ravaged -before a military force could be organised. The proverbial snowball may -be arrested at the first movement, but after gathering velocity, it -descends the mountain-side with the force and fury of the avalanche. - -The colonel in command of the Volunteers was a soldier to whom border -raids in wild lands, with a wilder foe, was not unfamiliar. 'Boot and -saddle' was sounded. Without a moment's unnecessary delay, the troop was -in full marching order along the 'river road,' a well-marked trail, -heading for Poliah. - -The night was still dark, but comparatively cool. No inconvenience was -felt as the men trotted briskly along and joked as to the sort of battle -in which they would engage. - -'Bless yer, they won't fight, not if there was another thousand of 'em,' -said a grizzled sergeant, 'and every man with the newest arm invented. -I've seen mobs afore. Men as ain't drilled and disciplined never stands -a charge.' - -'They've got rifles and revolvers, I know,' said a younger man, 'and -they can shoot pretty straight, some of 'em. Suppose they keep open -order, and pepper us at long range? What's to keep 'em from droppin' us -that way, from cover, and then makin' a rush?' - -'There's nothin' to keep 'em, _only they won't do it_,' replied the -sergeant oracularly. 'They know the law's agin' 'em, which means a lot -in Australia—so far. Besides that, they've never faced a charge, or -don't know what it's like to stiffen up in line. You'll see how they'll -cut it when they hear the colonel give the word, not to mention the -bugle-call. Why, what the devil——?' - -Then the sergeant, ending his sentence abruptly, almost halted, as a -column of flame rose through the night air, sending up tongues of flame -and red banners through the darkness which precedes the dawn. - -'D—d if they haven't burned the bloomin' steamer!' quoth he. 'What next, -I'd like to know? This country's going to the devil. I always thought it -was a mistake sending our old regiment away.' - -'Halt!' suddenly rang out in the clear, strong tones of the colonel—the -voice of a man who had seen service and bore the tokens of it in a -tulwar slash and a couple of bullet wounds. 'These fellows have set fire -to the steamer, and of course she will burn to the water's edge. They -will hardly make a fight of it though. In case they do, sergeant, take -twenty men and skirt round so as to intercept their left wing. I'll do -myself the honour to lead the charge on their main body, always -supposing they wait for us to come up.' - -The character of the resistance offered proved the sergeant's estimate -to be absolutely correct. A few dropping shots were heard before the -police came up, but when the rioters saw the steady advance of a hundred -mounted men—an imposing cavalry force for Australia—saw Colonel Elliot, -who rode at their head with his sword drawn, heard the clanking of the -steel scabbards and the colonel's stern command, 'Charge!' they wavered -and broke rank in all directions. - -'Arrest every man on the river-bank with firearms in his hands,' roared -the colonel. The sergeant, with a dozen of his smartest troopers, had -each their man in custody a few seconds after the order was given—Bill -Hardwick among the rest, who was fated to illustrate the cost of being -found among evil-doers. One man alone made a desperate resistance, but -after a crack from the butt-end of a carbine, he accepted his defeat -sullenly. By the time his capture was complete, so was the rout of the -rebel array. Hardly a man was to be seen, while the retreating body of -highly irregular horse sounded like a break-out from a stock-yard. - -Matters had reached the stage when the stokers at the Gas Works were -'called out,' and the city of Melbourne threatened with total darkness -after 6 P.M. - -Then a volunteer corps of Mounted Rifles was summoned from the country. -The city was saved from a disgraceful panic—perhaps from worse things. -The Unionist mob quailed at the sight of the well-mounted, armed, and -disciplined body of cavalry, whose leader showed no disposition to mince -matters, and whose hardy troopers had apparently no democratic doubts -which the word 'Charge!' could not dispel. - -At the deserted Gas Works, aristocratic stokers kept the indispensable -flame alight until the repentant, out-colonelled artisans returned to -their work. - -This was the crisis of the struggle—the turning-point of the fight; as -far as the element of force was concerned, the battle was over. It -showed, that with proper firmness, which should have been exhibited at -the outset, the result is ever the same. The forces of the State, with -law and justice behind them, must overawe any undisciplined body of men -attempting to terrorise the body politic in defence of fancied rights or -the redress of imaginary wrongs. - -The rioting in the cities of Melbourne and Sydney was promptly abated -when the citizen cavalry, 'armed and accoutred proper,' clanked along -Collins Street in Melbourne, while Winston Darling led the sons of his -old friends and schoolfellows, who drove the high-piled wool waggons in -procession down George Street in Sydney to the Darling Harbour -Warehouses. - -Much was threatened as to the latter demonstration, by blatant -demagogues, who described it as 'a challenge; an insult to labour.' It -was a challenge, doubtless—a reminder that Old New South Wales, with the -founders of the Pastoral Industry—that great export now reaching the -value of three hundred millions sterling—was not to be tyrannised over -by a misguided mob, swayed by self-seeking, irresponsible agitators. - -No doubt can exist in the minds of impartial observers that if the -Ministries of the different colonies over which this wave of industrial -warfare passed, in the years following 1891, had acted with promptness -and decision at the outset, the heavy losses and destructive damage -which followed might have been averted. - -But the labour vote was strong—was believed, indeed, to be more powerful -than it proved to be when tested. And the legislatures elected by -universal suffrage were, in consequence, slow to declare war against the -enemies of law and order. - -They temporised, they hesitated to take strong measures. They tacitly -condoned acts of violence and disorder. They permitted 'picketing,' a -grossly unfair, even illegal (see Justice Bramwell's ruling) form of -intimidation, employed to terrorise the free labourers. - -The natural results followed. Woolsheds were burned, notably the -Ayrshire Downs; the Cambridge Downs shed, 4th August 1894; Murweh, with -50,000 sheep to be shorn—roll to be called that day. Fences were cut, -bridges sawn through, stock were injured, squatters and free labourers -were assaulted or grossly reviled. - -Everything in the way of ruffianism and disorder short of civil war was -practised, apparently from one end of Australia to the other, before the -Executive saw fit to intervene to check the excesses of the lawless -forces which, well armed and mounted, harassed the once peaceful, -pastoral Arcadia. - -At length the situation became intolerable; the governing powers, with -the choice before them of restraining bands of _condottieri_ or -abdicating their functions, woke up. - -It was high time. From the 'Never Never' country in remotest Queensland, -from the fabled land 'where the pelican builds her nest' to the great -Riverina levels of New South Wales, from the highlands of the Upper -Murray and the Snowy River to the silver mines of the Barrier, a -movement arose, which called itself Industrial Unionism, but which -really meant rebellion and anarchy. - -It was rebellion against all previously-accepted ideas of government. If -carried out, it would have subverted social and financial arrangements. -It would have delivered over the accumulated treasure of 'wealth and -knowledge and arts,' garnered by the thrift, industry, and intelligence -of bygone generations, to one section of the workers of the land—the -most numerous certainly, but incontestably the least intelligent—to be -wasted in a brief and ignoble scramble. - -The list of outrages, unchecked and unpunished, during this period, -makes painful reading for the lover of his country. - -A distinguished and patriotic member of the 'Australian Natives' -Association,' in one of his addresses before that body, declared 'that, -for the first time in his life, he felt ashamed of his native country.' -That feeling was shared by many of his compatriots, as day after day the -telegrams of the leading journals added another to the list of woolsheds -deliberately set on fire, of others defended by armed men—sometimes, -indeed, unsuccessfully. - -When the directors of the Proprietary Silver Mine at Broken Hill saw fit -to diminish the number of miners, for which there was not sufficient -employment, it was beleaguered by an armed and threatening crowd of five -thousand men. A real siege was enacted. No one was allowed to pass the -lines without a passport from the so-called President of the Miners' -Committee. - -For three days and nights, as the Stipendiary Magistrate stated (he was -sent up specially by the New South Wales Government, trusting in his -lengthened experience and proved capacity), the inmates of the -mine-works sat with arms in their hands, and without changing their -clothes, hourly expectant of a rush from the excited crowd. - -The crisis was, however, tided over without bloodshed, chiefly owing, in -the words of a leading metropolitan journal, to the 'admirable firmness -and discretion' displayed by the official referred to—now, alas! no -more. He died in harness, fulfilling his arduous and responsible duties -to the last, with a record of half a century of official service in -positions of high responsibility, without a reflection in all that time -having been cast upon his integrity, his courage, or his capacity. - -More decisive action was taken, and was compelled to be taken, in -Queensland than in the other colonies. - -There, owing to the enormous areas necessarily occupied by the -Pastoralists, the immense distances separating the holdings from each -other, and, perhaps, the heterogeneous nature of the labour element, the -acts of lawlessness became more serious and menacing. A military -organisation was therefore found to be necessary. Volunteers were -enrolled. Large bodies of these troops and of an armed constabulary -force were mobilised, and many of the incidental features of a civil war -were displayed to a population that had rarely seen firearms discharged -in anger. - -The nomadic population had been largely recruited from the criminals of -other colonies, who, fleeing from justice, were notoriously in the habit -of crossing the Queensland border, and evading a too searching inquiry. - -These were outlaws in the worst sense of the word; desperate and -degraded, conversant with undetected crime, and always willing to join -in the quasi-industrial revolts, unfortunately of everyday occurrence. - -In these, bloodshed was barely avoided, while hand-to-hand fights, -inflicting grievous bodily injury, were only too common. - - - CHAPTER VI - -After the burning of the _Dundonald_, a score of the rioters had been -arrested and imprisoned. But owing to the confusion of the _mêlée_ and -the prompt dispersion of the Unionists it had been found difficult to -procure the necessary identification and direct evidence of criminality. -Thus, after some weeks of imprisonment, all were discharged except six -prisoners, among whom, unfortunately for himself and his family, was -that notorious malefactor, William Hardwick. Fate, in his case, would -appear to have leaned to the wrong side! - -His appearance and manner had so favourably impressed the Bench of -Magistrates, before whom, after several remands, he and his -fellow-prisoners had been brought, that they were on the point of -discharging him, when Janus Stoate was tendered by the Sub-Inspector of -Police in charge of the case as a material witness for the Crown. He had -kept in the background after he saw the affair well started, taking care -to be heard protesting against violence on the part of the Unionists. -Having been sworn, he admitted his connection with them, to the extent -of belonging to the camp and having acted as a delegate, appointed by -the Council of the Australian Shearers' Union. He had worked last at -Tandara woolshed. At that station the men had completed their contract -and been paid off in the usual way. He as delegate had received notice -from the President of the Union to call out the shearers before shearing -was concluded. They declined, temporarily, and a messenger, elected by -the men, was sent to Wagga Wagga for further instructions. - -Before he returned, the shed had 'cut out'—finished shearing, that is. -He could not say he approved of the arrangement, but was glad that the -contract was completed and all settled amicably. He was an upholder of -passive resistance, and could bring witnesses to prove that he dissuaded -the men from violence. - -'Did he know the defendant, William Hardwick?' - -'Yes, very well—he was sorry to see him in this position.' - -'Had he seen him inciting or assisting the men who were concerned in the -burning of the steamer?' - -'No, he could not say that he had, but——' - -The witness was urged to explain, which he did, apparently with -unwillingness. - -'He had seen him standing by the river-bank, with a gun in his hand.' - -'Did he discharge the gun?' - -'Yes, he did; he saw him put the gun to his shoulder and fire.' - -'Was it directed at any one of the crew of the _Dundonald_?' - -'He could not say that. The night was dark—just before daylight. He -fired at or near somebody, that was all he could say.' - -'That will do.' - -Another Unionist witness was brought forward. This man was actuated by a -revengeful spirit towards the free labourers, and especially towards -those shearers that had opposed the Union. He therefore gave damaging -evidence against Bill and his companions. He swore that he had seen -Hardwick—that was his name, he believed—anyway he was the 'blackleg' now -before the Court—loading and firing, like some of the camp men. - -He was warned not to use the expression 'blackleg,' as it was -disrespectful to the Court. Such conduct might lead to his being -committed for contempt of Court and imprisoned. - -The witness had 'done time' in another colony, been before a Court more -than once or twice probably. He laughed impudently, saying, 'He didn't -mean no offence, but it was 'ard on a man, as was true to his -fellow-workers, to keep his tongue off such sneaks.' - -This was one of the cases where a magistrate, not being able to deal -effectively with a witness, will take as little offence as possible, so -as to get him out of the box and have done with him. In a city or county -town such a man would be sent to gaol for twenty-four hours, for -contempt of Court, to appear next morning in a chastened frame of mind. -But as the fire-raisers were to be committed for trial and forwarded -under escort to the Circuit Court at Wagga Wagga, nothing would be -gained by delaying the whole affair for the purpose of punishing a -single witness. - -So poor Bill, being asked by the magistrate what he had to say in his -defence, made a bungling job of it, as many an innocent man, under the -circumstances, has done before, and will again. - -'He could only state, that though seen among the Unionist rioters, he -was there under compulsion; that he and his mates, who had come from -Tandara, had determined, after seeing the unfair way in which the sheds -that "shore Union" had been ordered out, to cut loose from the tyranny. -But they had been captured by the rioters at Moorara; made to carry arms -and stand in front, where they were nearly being shot. As God was his -Judge, he never fired a shot or meant to fire one. He would far rather -have emptied his gun at the fellows who had robbed and ill-treated -him—for his horses, saddles, and swag were "put away," he believed, his -cheque and loose money were gone, and he had nothing but what he stood -up in. What call had he to hurt the boat, or any one aboard her? It was -the other way on. The witnesses had perjured themselves, particularly -Janus Stoate, who had eaten his bread and borrowed money from him in -times past, and now was swearing falsely, to ruin him, and rob his wife -and children of their home. He had no more to say.' - -Unluckily for poor Bill, several of the accused, who _were_ guilty, had -made substantially the same defence. They were proved, by the evidence -of the crew of the _Dundonald_ and the police, to have been actively -aiding and abetting in the outrage. One, indeed, who tried to look -virtuous and made a plausible speech, had been seen pouring kerosene -over the doomed steamer, preparatory to her being set on fire. - -This prejudiced the Bench against all defences of the same nature as -Bill's. He might, of course, have called on his mates, who had left the -Tandara shed with him, resolving to sever all connection with the Union. -They would, of course, have been able to corroborate his story, and have -ensured his discharge. But, here again, Fate (or else blind Chance, -which she too often resembles) was against him. 'Fortune's my foe,' he -might have quoted, with reason, had such literary _morceaux_ been in his -line. - -One of the shearers from Tandara, being a smart bushman, had escaped, in -the uncertain light and confusion of the _mêlée_, and discovering the -horses of the party, feeding by themselves, in an angle of the station -fence, caught the quietest of the lot, annexed a stray halter, and ran -them into a yard. He then returned to the insurgents, and mingling with -the crowd, managed to warn his comrades, except Bill, who was wedged in -between two armed men, with another at his back, by special instruction -of Stoate. Leaving unostentatiously, they escaped notice, and providing -themselves with saddles and bridles from the numbers which lay on the -ground outside of tents, or on horizontal limbs of trees, departed -quietly, and by sundown were many a mile away on the road to the next -non-Union station. They would not have abandoned their companion had -they the least idea of what he was likely to undergo at the hands of the -law; but the last thought that could have entered into their heads would -be that _he_ was liable to arrest and trial in connection with the -burning of the steamer. So, believing that they might run serious risk -by remaining among the excited, dangerous crowd, at the same time being -powerless to do him any good, they decided to clear off. - -As there was sworn evidence to incriminate him without available -witnesses to testify in his favour, the Bench had no alternative but to -commit William Hardwick for trial at the next ensuing Assize Court, to -be holden at Wagga Wagga. Thither, with the other prisoners, ruffians -with whom he could neither sympathise nor associate, was poor Bill, -manacled and despairing, sent off in the up-river coach, a prey to -anxiety and despondent imaginings. - -What would be Jenny's feelings when she saw in an extract from the -_Wilcannia Watchman_, too faithfully copied into the _Talmorah -Advertiser_:— - - 'OUTRAGE BY UNIONISTS. - - '_Burning of the "Dundonald."_ - -'Arrest and trial before the Bench of Magistrates at Tolarno. William -Hardwick, John Jones, J. Abershaw, T. Murphy, and others, committed for -trial at next Assize Court. Severe sentences may be looked for.' - - * * * * * - -Jenny's distress at this announcement may be imagined. She had not heard -from Bill since he left Tandara, at which time he had written in good -spirits, mentioning the amount of his cheque, and his resolution to cut -loose from the Shearers' Union (which he was sorry he ever joined), and -more particularly from Stoate and all his works. - -'It's that villain, and no one else,' cried poor Jenny. 'I knew he'd do -Bill a mischief before he'd done with him—a regular snake in the grass. -I'd like to have a crack at him with a roping pole. He's worked round -poor Bill, some road or other, who's that soft and straightforward, as -any man could talk him over—and yet I wonder, after what he wrote——' - -And here Jenny took Bill's last letter out of her homely treasure-chest, -read it once more and cried over it, after which she dried her eyes and -changed her dress, preparatory to seeking counsel of Mr. Calthorpe, the -banker in the township. This gentleman received her sympathetically, and -heard all she had to say, before giving an opinion. - -In small and remote centres of population such as Talmorah the bank -manager is, even more than the clergyman or the doctor, the 'guide, -philosopher, and friend' of the humbler classes, whom he chiefly advises -for their good, and, in moderation, aids pecuniarily, if he can do so, -with safety to the bank. He is often young, but, from a wider than -ordinary outlook on men and affairs, endowed with discretion beyond his -years. For Jenny and her husband he had a genuine liking and respect, -based chiefly on his knowledge of character, but partly on the -creditable state of Bill's bank account. - -'It's a bad business, Mrs. Hardwick,' he said, when Jenny had concluded -her story in a fit of weeping, which she could not restrain. 'And Bill's -the last man I should have expected to be mixed up with this affair. -It's wonderful what harm this strike business is doing all over -Australia. However, it's no use thinking of that. The question is, how -to help your husband out of the trouble, now he's in it. He's only -committed now—which doesn't go for much. It's the trial before the Judge -and Jury we have to look to.' - -Here Mr. Calthorpe took down a file of newspapers and looked through -them. 'Yes, I thought so; to be tried at next ensuing Assize Court at -Wagga. You'd like him to have a lawyer to defend him, wouldn't you?' - -'Of course I would,' replied the loyal wife. 'We've worked hard for our -bit of money, but I'd spend the last shilling of it before Bill should -go to gaol.' - -'Quite right. Bill's man enough to make more—his liberty's the main -thing. Well, I'll send a letter by this night's mail to the Manager of -our bank at Wagga and ask him to see Mr. Biddulph, the solicitor—I was -stationed there years ago—and _he'll_ get him off if any one can. Money -is wanted, though, to pay witnesses' expenses—you must be prepared for -that.' - -'Whatever's wanted, let him have, in God's name,' Jenny cried -recklessly. 'You know Bill's good for it, sir, and I've butter-money -saved up of my own. Bill always let me keep that. I've got it in this -bag. It will do to begin with.' - -'Never mind that,' said the banker, good-humouredly. 'I have your deeds, -you know, and the balance is on the right side of your account. So don't -be down-hearted, and I'll let you know as soon as I hear from Biddulph. -Good-bye, and keep up your spirits; fretting won't do you any good, or -Bill either. All right, Mr. Mason,' he said, as his assistant, after -knocking, looked in at the door; 'tell Mr. Thornhill I can see him in a -minute.' - -'I'll never forget your kindness,' said Jenny, as she shook hands warmly -with the friend in need. 'You'll let me know directly you hear -anything.' - -'You may depend on that. Good-bye till Saturday; the up-river mail will -be in then.' As she passed out, a stoutish, middle-aged man came in. - -'Morning, Calthorpe. Comforting the widow or the orphan? Saw she was in -trouble.' - -'Deuced hard lines,' said the Manager gravely. 'Very decent -people—selectors at Chidowla, near Curra Creek. Her husband's got into -trouble—committed for trial about that burning of the _Dundonald_.' - -'Serve him right, too. Those Union fellows are playing the deuce all -over the country. If they're not stopped there's no saying what they'll -do next. The country's going to the devil. The Government won't act with -decision, while property is being destroyed and life menaced every day. -I don't blame the men so much; it's these rascally agitators that ought -to suffer, and they mostly get out of it.' - -'I'll never believe that Bill Hardwick went in for the steamer-burning -business,' said the banker, 'though he seems to have got mixed up with -it somehow. There's some cur working it, I'm sure. He's got a decent -stake in the country himself. He'd never risk losing his farm and the -money that he's saved. I won't believe it till it's proved.' - -'But he must have been with those Union fellows or they couldn't have -arrested him,' answered the squatter. 'What was he doing in a Union -Camp? Comes of keeping bad company, you see. I'm sorry for his wife—she -seems a good sort; but if a man takes up with such people, he must pay -the penalty.' - -And then the Manager went keenly into his client's business, removing -all thought of Bill's hard luck and Jenny's sad face from his mental -vision. But after his day's work was done, and his books duly posted up, -as he took his usual walk round the outskirts of the township, the 'case -of William Hardwick, charged with arson in the matter of the steamer -_Dundonald_,' recurred again and again with almost painful iteration. - -'Must be a put-up job!' he ejaculated, as he turned towards the -unpretending four-roomed cottage which served him for dwelling-place, -office, and treasure-house. His clerk and assistant, a young fellow of -twenty, in training for higher posts when the years of discretion had -arrived, slept there with him. - -But both took their meals in the best hotel of the township (there were -only two)—a more interesting way of managing the commissariat than -house-keeping where servants were scarce, as well as presenting distinct -advantages from the cooking side. It may be added that they were never -absent from the bank at the same time. - -In addition to the convenience of the latter arrangement a country -banker in Australia finds his account in a general suavity of demeanour. -Bits of information then fall in his way, which a less cordial manner -would not have attracted. - -At the ordinary table of the Teamsters' Arms, Talmorah, being a great -'carrying centre,' all sorts and conditions of men were represented. Not -that the partially renovated swagman or bullock-driver sat at meat with -the correctly attired squatter, station-manager, or commercial -traveller. Such is not the fashion in rural Australia. Meals, except in -case of illness, are not served in private rooms—a limited staff of -servants forbidding such luxury. But a second table is provided, of -which the lower tariff practically effects a separation between the -socially unequal sections. If not, a hint is never wanting from the -prudent but decisive landlord. - -At the bar counter, however, a nearer approach to democratic equality is -reached; and it was here that Mr. Calthorpe caught a few words that -decided him to ask for a glass of beer, while a rather heated argument -was being carried on. - -'Heard about Bill Hardwick fallin' in, over that steamer-burnin' -racket?' queried a sunburnt teamster, whose dust-enveloped garb and -beard proclaimed a long and wearisome trail. - -'We all heard of it,' answered the man addressed—an -agricultural-appearing person, not so distinctively 'back-block' in -appearance as the first speaker—'and we're dashed sorry it's true in -this quarter. Bill's a neighbour of mine, and a straighter chap never -stepped. I don't hold with that sort of foolishness that the Union's -been carryin' on lately. I joined 'em and so did Bill, and I'd be as -well pleased I hadn't now, and so'd he I reckon. But as for him helpin' -to burn a steamer, I'd just as soon believe he'd stick up this bank.' - -'Banks is one thing and Union leaders is another,' decided the man from -the waste, finishing a portentous 'long sleever.' 'But a chap's fool -enough to go with his crowd now and again; he don't care about being -ticketed as a "blackleg." Why shouldn't Bill do it as well as another?' - -'Because he's the wrong sort; he's married and has a couple of kids. His -wife's a hard-working, savin' kind of woman as ever you see—always at it -from daylight to dark. Besides, he's lookin' to go in for another -selection. That's not the sort of chap that goes burnin' sheds and -steamers. It's a bloomin' plant, I'll take my oath.' - -'That's your notion, is it?' quoth the teamster, who, having imbibed as -much colonial beer as would have half-drowned a smaller and less -desiccated man, was disposed to be confidential. 'I wouldn't say as -you're far out. I was comin' by Quambone with Bangate wool—forty-five -bales of greasy—it's now onloadin', and I'd a yarn with a chap that was -in the Union Camp at Moorara. He kep' as far back as he could, and -cleared out first chance. Of course they was all mixed up when the -firin' came, and some of 'em, as hadn't wanted to go too far, took their -chance to cut it. But afore he went, he heard Stoate ('you know -him?'—the listener nodded) tell another of the "committy," as they -called theirselves, "that he'd fix up Bill Hardwick if it come to a -trial—if any man had to do a stretch over it, _he'd_ not get off." - -'"How'll you work that?" says the other cove. "He's never gone solid -along of us; and now he'll be dead agen Unionism, and no wonder. He told -some one this morning he'd lost his shearing cheque."' - -'So that's the way they nobbled him,' said his hearer. 'Infernal -bloomin' scoundrels to swear a man's liberty away. Bill's got a friend -or two yet, though, and money in the bank, though some of them spoutin' -loafers has his cheque in their pockets. So long.' - -The gaunt, sun-baked teamster departed to turn out his bullocks, and -generally recreate after his journey, deferring till the morrow the -pleasant process of receiving his cheque for carriage and safe delivery -of his valuable load—over five hundred pounds' worth of merino wool. - -But Mr. Calthorpe, the banker, who, without listening to the whole -conversation, had caught Bill's name occasionally, touched Donahue's arm -(for that perfunctory agriculturist it was) as he turned reluctantly -homeward, and questioned him concerning his late acquaintance's words. - -Nothing loath, indeed gratified with the chance of placating the local -potentate who wielded the power of life and death (financially) over him -and others, he cheerfully disclosed all that he had heard, being, -moreover, a good-natured, obliging sort of fellow, as indeed thriftless -persons often are. - -'Now, look here, Donahue!' said the great man. 'I've a liking for -Hardwick, whom I've always found a steady and industrious chap, that -it's a pleasure to help. Some men are not built that way, Dick'—here he -looked Donahue squarely in the face. 'They idle their time, and spend -the money drinking and horse-racing that ought to go to paying their -debts and keeping the wife and children.' Mr. Donahue looked -embarrassed, and gazed into the distance. 'But I want your help to take -this business out of winding, and if you'll work with me, I _might_—I -don't say I will, mind you—recommend the Bank to give you time to pay -off the arrears on your selection.' - -Dick Donahue, whose cheerful demeanour covered an aching heart and -remorseful feelings whenever he thought of the possibility of the family -losing their home because of his want of steady industry, turned round, -almost with the tears in his eyes, as he said, not without a touch of -natural dignity— - -'Mr. Calthorpe, I'd do what I could for Bill, who's a better man than -myself, with all the veins of my heart—as poor old father used to -say—and ask no return in the world; and for Jenny Hardwick, who's been a -good head to Biddy and the children (more shame for me that they wanted -help), I'd risk my life any day. And if you think well of givin' me more -time to pay up, I've got a fencing contract from Mr. Dickson, after the -New Year, and I'll never touch a drop till it's finished, and give you -an order on him for the lot.' - -'All right, Dick, we can arrange that; you work like a man and do your -duty to your family, and you'll find a friend in me.' He held out his -hand, which the repentant prodigal shook fervently, and turned away -without another word. - -Nothing more was said on that day, but in the following week Richard -Donahue, fairly well turned out, and riding a horse 'fit to go for a -man's life,' as he expressed it, started 'down river,' leaving Mrs. -Bridget in a state of mind very different from that with which she -ordinarily regarded her husband's absence from home 'on business,' -always uncertain as to return and rarely satisfactory as to -remuneration. - - - CHAPTER VII - -The inland town of Wagga Wagga, in New South Wales, historically -celebrated as the dwelling-place of the Tichborne Claimant, where that -lapsed scion of the aristocracy followed the indispensable but not -socially eminent occupation of butcher, was, if not _en fête_, -pardonably excited at the arrival of the Judge and officers of the -Assize Court to be holden on the morrow. - -This traditional spectacle—almost as interesting as the Annual Race -Meeting or the Agricultural Show—was afforded to the inhabitants at -half-yearly intervals. The curiosity aroused by these unfamiliar -personages, before whom were decided the issues of freedom or -imprisonment, life or death, was concentrated and intense. The Judge who -presided, the Bar, the Deputy Sheriff, the Crown Prosecutor, the -Associate, were objects of admiration to the denizens of a city three -hundred miles from a metropolis—chiefly ignorant of other than rural -life, and to whom the ocean itself was almost unknown. To the jurymen, -culled from the town dwellers and the surrounding farms, the summons to -aid in the administration of justice was a memorable solemnity. - -The compulsory withdrawal from their ordinary avocations was fully -compensated by urban pleasures, and doubtless aided their intelligent -comprehension of the laws of the land. - -Among the townspeople a certain amount of social festivity was deemed -appropriate to the occasion. - -It may therefore be imagined that among the young men and maidens the -infrequent procession of the Judge's carriage, escorted by the -Superintendent of Police and half-a-dozen troopers, well armed, mounted, -and accurately turned out, created a thrill of pleasurable anticipation. - -These feelings were heightened by the fact that Wagga (as, for -convenience, the thriving town on the Murrumbidgee River was chiefly -designated) stood at the edge of a vast pastoral district, being also -bounded by one of the finest agricultural regions of Australia. - -The cases to be tried at this sitting of the Court concerned as well the -great pastoral interest as the army of labourers, to whom that interest -paid in wages not less than ten millions sterling annually. - -Punctually as the Post-office clock struck ten, the Court House was -filled, great anxiety being shown to behold the six prisoners, who were -marched from the gaol and placed in the dock, a forbidding-looking, -iron-railed enclosure with a narrow wooden seat. On this some promptly -sat down, while others stood up and gazed around with a well-acted look -of indifference. Bill Hardwick had never been in such a place before, -and the thought of what Jenny's feelings would be if she had seen him -there nearly broke his heart. He sat with his head covered with his -hands—the picture of misery and despair. He knew that he was to be -defended—indeed had been closely questioned long before the day of trial -about his conduct on the eventful morning of the burning of the -_Dundonald_. - -He had asserted his innocence in moving terms, such as even touched the -heart of the solicitor, hardened as he was by long acquaintance with -desperate criminals as well as cases where plaintiffs, witnesses, and -defendants all seemed to be leagued in one striking exhibition of false -swearing and prevarication calculated to defeat the ends of justice. - -'That's all right,' said the lawyer, 'and I believe every word you've -said, Bill, and deuced hard lines it is—not that I believe defendants -generally, on their oath or otherwise. But you're a different sort, and -it's a monstrous thing that you should have to spend your hard-earned -money on lawyers and witnesses to defend yourself from a false charge. -But what we've got to look to, is to make the Judge and jury believe -you. These d—d scoundrels that were on for burning the boat, saw you -with a gun in your hand while the affair was going on, and will swear to -that, back and edge. Your friend Stoate, who isn't here yet, but will be -up in time for the trial, will clinch the nail, and he can bring the -constable to back him up, who saw you holding a gun. He doesn't say more -than that, but it goes to corroborate. The jury must go by sworn -evidence. There's only your own statement, which won't weigh against -deponents, who've apparently nothing to gain on the other side.' - -'It's all the spite of that hound Stoate,' cried out Bill passionately. -'He was crabbed for my belittling him in the Tandara shed. He's put -those Unionists up to ruining me, and I'll break his neck when I get -out, if I have to swing for it.' - -'No, you won't, Bill! If you get a sentence, which I hope you won't, -when you come out you'll be so jolly glad to find yourself free, that -you won't want to go back even for revenge. But never mind that for the -present; we must look things in the face. It's a thousand pities you -couldn't get some of those chaps that were driven into the hut along -with you, by the Unionists, the first night. Any idea where they've -gone? Know their names?' - -'They went down the river, I heard say. They're hundreds of miles away -by this time. What's the use of knowing their names?' - -'That's my business. It's wonderful how people turn up sometimes. Come, -out with their names—where they came from—all you know about them.' - -Thus adjured, Bill gave their names and a sketch of personal appearance, -home address, and so on. 'All of them were natives, and some of them, -when they were at home, which was not often, had selections in the same -district.' This being done, Mr. Biddulph folded up the paper, and left -Bill to his reflections, telling him that he could do nothing more for -him at present, but to 'keep up his pecker,' and not to think the race -was over till the numbers were up. - -This quasi-encouragement, however, availed him but little. 'He had lost -his shearing cheque; and here was money,' he sadly thought, 'being spent -like water, to prove him innocent of a crime for which he never should -have been charged. His wife would be nearly killed with anxiety, besides -being made aware that they could not now think of buying Donahue's or -any other selection. How everything had gone wrong since he rode away -from home that morning with Stoate (infernal, blasted traitor that he -was!), and had been going from bad to worse ever since. It was against -Jenny's advice that he joined the Union. She had a knack of being right, -though she was not much of a talker. Another time—but when would that -be?' - -So Bill—'a hunter of the hills,' more or less, as was the Prisoner of -Chillon—had to pass the weary hours until the day of trial, and he could -exchange the confinement of the gaol for the expansive scenery of the -dock—restricted as to space, certainly, but having an outlook upon the -world, and a sort of companionship in the crowd of spectators, lawyers, -and witnesses, finishing up with the Judge. - -At this judicial potentate Bill looked long and wistfully. He had an -idea that a Judge was a ruthless administrator of hard laws, with a -fixed prejudice against working-men who presumed to do anything illegal, -or in fact to trouble themselves about anything but their work and -wages. However, he could not fail to see in this Judge a mild, serious, -patient gentleman, showing greater anxiety to understand the facts of -the case than to inflict sentences. Still, he was only partly reassured. -Might he not be one of those benevolent-seeming ones—he had heard of -such—who would talk sweetly to the prisoner, reminding him of the happy -days of childhood, and his, perhaps, exemplary conduct when he used to -attend Sunday School—trust that he intended to lead a new life, and then -paralyse him with a ten years' sentence, hard labour, and two days' -solitary in each month? - -He did not know what to expect. Wasn't there Pat Macarthy, who got three -years for assault with intent to commit grievous bodily harm (certainly -he more than half killed the other man)? Well, his wife worked his farm, -and slaved away the whole time, denying herself almost decent clothes to -wear. At the end of his term, he came out to find her hopelessly insane; -she had been taken to the Lunatic Asylum only the week before. - -Bill hardly thought that Jenny would go 'off her head,' in the popular -sense. It was too level and well-balanced. But if he was sentenced to -three or five years more of this infernal, hopeless, caged-in existence, -he expected _he_ would. - -The prisoners that he had watched in the exercise yard didn't seem to -mind it so much. But they were old and worn-out; had nothing much to -wish themselves outside for. Others did not look as if they had worked -much in their lives—had indeed 'done time' more than once, as the slang -phrase went, content to loll on the benches in the exercise yard and -talk to their fellow-convicts—not always after an improving fashion. But -to _him_ it would be a living death. Up and out every morning of his -life at or before daylight,—hard at work at the thousand-and-one-tasks -of a farm until it was too dark to tell an axe from a spade,—how _could_ -he endure this cruel deprivation of all that made life worth living? - -Fortunately for him, in one sense, the day of his trial was absolutely -perfect as to weather. Bright and warm—it was late December—the sky -unflecked by a single cloud. But there was a cool, sea wind, which, -wandering up from the distant coast, set every human creature (not in -sickness, sorrow, or 'hard bound in misery and iron'), aglow with the -joy of living. It raised the spirits even of that plaything of destiny -known among men as William Hardwick, so that as the whispering breeze -stole through the open windows of the Court he held up his dejected head -and felt almost like a man again. - -The proceedings commenced, the jury had been impanelled. The Crown -Prosecutor threw back his gown, and fixing his eyes on the Judge's -impassive countenance opened the case. - -'May it please your Honour, you will pardon me perhaps if, before -calling witnesses, I sketch briefly the state of affairs which, more or -less connected with the strike of 1891, has developed into a condition -of matters perilous to life and property, and altogether without -precedent in Australia. - -'From a determination on the part of the seamen on coasting steamers to -refuse work unless certain privileges were granted to them by the -owners, a commencement was made of the most widespread, important, and, -in its effects, the most disastrous strike ever known in Australia. Into -the question of the adequacy or otherwise of the wage claimed, it is not -my intention to enter. - -'The consequences, however, of the refusal of these seamen and others to -continue at work except under certain conditions, were far-reaching, and -such as could not have been reasonably anticipated. The revolt, as it -was called by the leaders of the movement, spread from sea to land, and -throughout all kinds and conditions of labourers, with startling -rapidity. - -'Many of these bodies of workmen could not have been thought to have -been concerned with the original dissentients, by any process of -reasoning. But by the leaders of the rebellion—for such it may truly be -designated—the opportunity was deemed favourable for the promulgation of -what are known as communistic or socialistic doctrines. More especially -was this observable in the conduct of a large body of workmen, members -of the Australian Shearers' Union. Guided by ambitious individuals of -moderate education but considerable shrewdness, not wholly unmingled -with cunning, the shearers, and indeed the whole body of labourers -connected with the great wool export, had been misled. They were asked -to believe that a conspiracy existed on the part of the representatives -of capital, whether merchants, bankers, or landholders—indeed of all -employers, whether private individuals or incorporated companies—to -defraud the labourer of his hire. - -'Inflamed by seditious pamphlets and utterances, shearers and others -banded themselves together for the purpose of intimidating all workmen -who were unwilling to be guided by the autocratic Unions, and arranged -on their own terms with employers. - -'Not only did they, by "picketing,"—an alleged method of moral suasion, -but in reality a policy of insult, annoyance, and obstruction,—forcibly -prevent other workmen from following their lawful occupations, but they -commenced to destroy the property of the pastoral tenants, believed to -be opposed to Union despotism. As a specimen of the inflammatory -language used, perhaps your Honour will permit me to read an extract -from a paper published in the (alleged) interest of the working -classes.' - -His Honour 'thought that however such extracts might indicate a tendency -on the part of certain sections of workmen to engage in acts of violence -causing injury to property,—a most lamentable state of feeling, in his -opinion,—yet the Court was directly concerned to-day with only specific -evidence as to the complicity of the prisoners in the crime of arson on -which they were arraigned. He thought the extract at this stage -irrelevant.' - -'After drawing the attention of your Honour and the jury to the -seditious, dishonest statements referred to, I will briefly refer to the -lamentable list of outrages upon property, not stopping short indeed of -personal violence and grievous bodily injury. - -'Matters have reached such a pitch that a state of civil war may be said -to have commenced. If not only the country but the towns and cities of -Australia are not to be theatres of bloodshed, outrage, and incendiary -flames, from which, by the mercy of Providence, Australia has up to this -period been preserved, the law in its majesty must step in, and -adequately punish the actors in the flagrant criminality as to which I -have to address your Honour this day.' - -The prisoners, having been duly arraigned, with one accord pleaded not -guilty. The last name was that of William Hardwick. Just before his name -was called, room was made in the crowded Court and a seat provided by -the Sergeant of Police for a woman with two children, whose travel-worn -appearance denoted recent arrival. - -Bill turned his head, and in that fragment of time recognised Jenny with -their little boy and girl. His name had to be repeated a second time. -Then he drew himself up, squared his shoulders, and looking straight at -the Judge, said 'Not Guilty' in a voice which sounded throughout the -Court, and if it had not the ring of truth, was a marvellous imitation. - -Poor Jenny, who had preserved a strained, fixed look of composure, broke -down at this juncture. The sight of her husband, standing in the dock -with men of crime-hardened and to her eyes of guilty appearance—one of -whom, indeed, wore leg-irons, which clanked as he moved—overcame all -attempts at self-possession. Her sobs were audible through the whole -Court. - -'Wife of the prisoner, your Honour,' explained the sergeant. 'Just off -the coach; been travelling twenty hours without rest or sleep.' - -'Had she not better stay in the witnesses' room?' suggested the Judge -sympathetically. 'Refreshment can be brought to her there.' - -But Jenny, though temporarily overcome, was not the woman to give in at -such a time. Wiping her eyes, 'I've come a long way, if you please, your -Honour,' she said, 'to hear my man tried on a false charge, if ever -there was one; and I hope you'll let me see it out. I'll not disturb the -Court again.' - -It was a piteous spectacle. - -Little Billy Hardwick, a precocious, resolute youngster 'rising five,' -looked for a while with much gravity at his father, and then said, 'Is -this a church, mother? Why doesn't father come out of that pew?' - -Jenny was nearly overcome by this fresh assault on her sympathies, but -accentuating her order by a shake, replied, _sotto voce_, 'It's not a -church, Billy; but you mustn't talk, or else a policeman will lock you -up in prison.' The child had heard of prisons, where bad people were -locked up, even in Talmorah, where the primitive structure was, in his -little mind, associated with the constable's children, who used to play -therein when the cells were empty. He would have liked further -explanation, but he read the signs in his mother's set face and closed -lips, and spoke no more; while the little girl, holding on to her -mother's gown, mingled her tears with those of her parent. Jenny -Hardwick was 'not much in the crying line,' as an early friend had said -of her, and was besides possessed of an unusual share of physical -courage as well as of strength of mind. So, when she had hastily dried -her eyes, she gave every indication of being as good as her word. - -'Call the first witness,' said the Crown Prosecutor, anxious to get to -work. This proved to be the Captain of Volunteers, who marched into the -box accordingly. - -'Your name is Gilbert Elliot, formerly of the 60th Regiment, now -commanding a mounted Volunteer force. Were you at Moorara on the Darling -on the 28th of August 1894?' - -'I was.' - -'Please to state what you did and what you saw then.' - -'When the troop reached Poliah, at the date mentioned, I saw the steamer -_Dundonald_ floating down the river. She was on fire and burning -fiercely. Apparently no one was on board. There was a large camp of -armed men—several hundreds—whom I concluded to be Union shearers. They -were yelling and shouting out that they had just burned the —— boat and -would roast the crew and captain for bringing up "blacklegs." I called -upon them to disperse, and as they made a show of resistance I ordered -my men to charge. They commenced to retreat and disperse, upon which I -caused all the men to be arrested who had arms in their hands, and who -were pointed out to me as having fired at the crew of the steamer or -having set fire to the vessel.' - -'Do you recognise the prisoners before the Court?' - -'Yes; all of them.' - -'Your Honour, I appear for prisoner William Hardwick,' said a shrewd, -alert-looking person, who had just then bustled into the Court and -appeared to be well known to the legal section. 'May I ask to have the -captain's evidence read over to me? Ordinarily I should not think of -troubling your Honour or delaying the business of the Court; but I have -travelled from Harden, and, being delayed on the road, have only this -moment arrived.' - -'Under the circumstances, Mr. Biddulph, the evidence of Captain Elliot -may be read over from my notes.' This was done. - -The witness's evidence was proceeded with. - -'Was there any show of resistance by the men assembled in the camp?' - -'There was a movement as if they were disposed to fight. They -outnumbered my troopers more than six to one, but at the first charge -they wavered and dispersed. They made no opposition to my arresting the -prisoners before the Court. One of them, the one now in irons, made a -desperate resistance, but was not supported.' - -'Now, Captain Elliot,' said Mr. Biddulph, 'will you look at the prisoner -at this end of the dock; do you remember him?' - -'Perfectly. He had a rifle in his hand when I ordered him to be -arrested.' - -'Did he resist?' - -'No.' - -'Did he say anything? If so, what was it?' - -'He said, "I'm not here of my own free-will. I've been robbed and -ill-treated by these men. I was forced to carry this gun. You can see -that it has not been discharged. My mates (there are several of them) -can prove that." I asked him where they were. He said he did not know.' - -'Then you had him arrested, though he disclaimed taking any part in the -unlawful proceedings? Did you not believe him?' - -'I did not. As it happened, other prisoners made substantially the same -defence who had been seen firing their guns just as we rode up.' - -'That will do, captain.' - -The next witness was called. - -'My name is Humphrey Bolton. I am a Sergeant of Volunteers, and came up -from Moorara by a forced march as soon as we heard that the steamer was -burnt. When we struck the camp there were six or seven hundred men, most -of them armed. They appeared very excited. I saw the steamer drifting -down the river. She was on fire. I saw a barge with a number of men in -it. I noticed the Unionists standing on the bank of the river and firing -from time to time in the direction of the barge. The men in the barge -were bending down and lying in the bottom as if afraid of being hit. I -did not hear of any of them being hurt; a few shots were fired back, and -one man in the camp was wounded.' - -'What happened next?' said the Crown Prosecutor. - -'Captain Elliot ordered me to capture all men on the river-bank who had -arms in their hands. The six prisoners before the Court and about a -dozen others were taken in charge accordingly.' - -'Did the crowd resist their capture?' - -'They made a show of it at first, but as soon as we charged, they gave -way and cleared off in all directions.' - -'Now, sergeant,' said Mr. Biddulph, 'look at the prisoner William -Hardwick. Had he arms?' - -'He was carrying a gun.' - -'Did you see him fire it?' - -'No.' - -'Did you examine it, when he said it had not been fired?' - -'Yes, the captain ordered me to do so; it had not been fired recently.' - -'Wasn't that proof that he was speaking the truth?' - -'How could I tell? He might have been going to fire, or picked up one -that had not been used. Besides, my officer told me to arrest him, and, -of course, I obeyed orders. He was in company with men who had just -committed a felony, at any rate.' - -'I see—evil communications. You may go down, sergeant.' - -The next witness was the captain of the _Dundonald_. - -'My name is Seth Dannaker, Master Mariner, out of Boston, U.S.A. I was -lately in command of the steamer _Dundonald_—now at the bottom of the -river Darling. I had come from Pooncarrie, carrying forty-five free -labourers, last Saturday, without obstruction or disturbance. I took -wood on board, and tied up, with swamp all round, a little below Poliah. -We heard that a large camp of Unionists were waiting to attack us there; -they had wire ropes across the river. We had steam up all night and a -watch was kept. About four o'clock A.M. a mob of disguised men rushed on -board the boat, and took possession of her. They knocked me about, and -put me and the crew on board the barge, now moored at Moorara. They -afterwards set the _Dundonald_ on fire. She drifted down the river, and -finally sank. They took possession of the free labourers, and counted -them. They had guns and revolvers, threatening to shoot me and all who -resisted them. I have lost all my personal effects, including money. I -thought this was a free country; now I know it isn't.' - -Cross-examined by Mr. Carter, appearing for the prisoners—with the -exception of William Hardwick. - -'You say you were threatened by one or more of the Unionists. Can you -recognise any of the prisoners now before the Court?' - -'Yes; the man in irons. I was told his name was Abershaw. He put a -revolver to my head, swearing he would shoot me if I resisted; also that -he would burn the b——y steamer, and roast me and the Agent of the -Employers' Association for bringing up blacklegs.' - -'Was he sober?' - -'I cannot say. He was much excited, and more like a madman than any one -in his senses. Two or three men struck me. I cannot identify any other -prisoners. I had left my revolver in the cabin, or I should have shot -some of them.' - -'Did you see any persons firing at the vessel or crew?' - -'Yes; there was a line of men on the bank firing with rifles at the -crew. They wounded two of them. I cannot identify any of them.' - -Cross-examined by Mr. Biddulph. - -'Will you look at the man in the corner of the dock nearest to you? Did -you see him firing or carrying a gun?' - -'I never saw him at all, to my knowledge. Of course there was -confusion.' - -Next witness. 'My name is James Davidson. I am the Agent of the -Employers' Association. On or about the 28th August 1894, I came up in -the _Dundonald_ in charge of free labourers (forty-five) to a spot near -Poliah. The police had been sent for from Tolarno. We had heard of the -Unionists intending to obstruct the boat, and so kept watch above and -below. Next morning, just before daylight, a number of men rushed on -board. One of them pointed a gun at the man who tried to set the boat -free, threatening to kill him if he moved. They went into the -wheel-house, and struck the captain; I heard them tell him they would -kill him and burn the boat. He was knocked about badly. I got a few -blows before the leaders got the men quiet. Then they started getting my -men out.' - -By the Crown Prosecutor. 'Whom do you mean by your men?' - -'The free labourers.' - -'Did they resist, or go quietly?' - -'Some went quietly—others resisted, and were thrown overboard. A few -were only in their shirts, as they had not had time to dress. They were -then set up in a line and counted, to see if they were all there. A -guard was put over them.' - -'Was the guard armed?' - -'Yes. Another gang was busy unloosing the steamer, and preparing her for -the fire. They smashed in the cabins and stole everything. Nothing -escaped them when they began to pillage. I lost my portmanteau, clothes, -and money. Everything was taken out of my cabin, leaving me nothing but -the clothes I had on.' - -'Were the Unionists much excited?' - -'Excited?—raving mad, I should call it. We were lucky to get off with -our lives. Fortunately, few persons were injured. We received every -attention when we got to Moorara. There is a large Union Camp at -Tolarno. They have given out that they intend to burn two more steamers, -for carrying free labourers.' - -'Do you identify the prisoners in the dock?' - -'Two of them. The man in irons struck the captain, and said he would -burn the boat and roast him alive. The one with the large beard was the -one who said he would shoot the man who was unloosing the cable. The -others I have no knowledge of.' - -By Mr. Carter. 'Did you see the prisoner William Hardwick—the one at -this end of the dock?' - -'Not that I am aware of.' - -'You said you lost some money?' - -'Yes, ten or twelve pounds; it was in a purse in my portmanteau. I had -to draw on the Association for a few pounds, as I was left penniless and -without a change of wearing apparel.' - -'I suppose that was a form of "picketing," in accordance with the -"ethics of war."' - -'"Pickpocketing," I should call it.' - -'One moment, Mr. Davidson,' interposed Mr. Biddulph, as the Agent turned -to leave the witness-box. 'Did you see the prisoner at this end of the -dock, carrying a gun or in any way joining in this creditable work?' - -'I never saw him at all.' - -'That will do.' - -'Call Janus Stoate, witness for the Crown.' - -As his name was mentioned, Bill turned his head towards the door where -the witnesses came in, with a look of murderous hate, such as no man had -ever seen before on his good-natured countenance. - -Jenny, as she looked anxiously towards the dock, hardly knew him. By -that door was to walk in the man who had eaten many a time at his humble -but plentiful table, and in return had treacherously denounced him, -ruined his character, helped to deprive him of his hard-earned wages, -gone near to render his children paupers, and break his wife's heart. A -man of his easy-going, confiding character, easily deceived, is not -prone to suspicion, but when injured—outraged in his deepest, tenderest -feelings—is terrible in wrath. As Bill unconsciously clenched his hands, -and stared at the open door, he looked as one eager to tear his enemy -limb from limb. - -But the thronged Court was disappointed, and Bill's vengeance delayed, -as no Janus Stoate appeared. - -Mr. Biddulph, who had left the Court, now appeared in company with a -mounted trooper, whose semi-military attire told of a rapid ride. He -spoke in a low voice to the Sub-Inspector of Police, who thereupon -proceeded to address the Judge. - -'If your Honour pleases, there will be a trifling delay before this -witness can give his evidence, owing to circumstances to which I cannot -at present allude. As the hour for your Honour's luncheon has nearly -arrived, may I suggest a short adjournment? I can assure your Honour -that I make the application for sufficient reasons.' - -'I am opposed,' answered the Judge, 'to adjournments in criminal cases; -but on Mr. Sub-Inspector's assurance, I consent to relax my rule. Let -the Court be adjourned until half-past one o'clock.' - -There was a gasp of relief, half of satisfaction, half of -disappointment, from the crowd as they hurried from the Court to snatch -a hasty meal and ventilate their opinions. - -'It's another dodge of the Government to block our workers from gettin' -justice,' said one oratorical agitator, partially disguised as a -working-man, and whose soft hands betrayed his immunity from recent -toil. 'It's a conspiracy hatched up to block Delegate Stoate's evidence -agin that blackleg Hardwick.' - -'You be hanged!' said a rough-looking bushman, who had just hung his -horse up to one of the posts in front of the Murrumbidgee Hotel. 'You -won't have so much gab when you see Delegate Stoate, as you call _him_, -before the Court, and some one as can tell the truth about him. Bill -Hardwick's as honest a cove as ever walked, and he _is_ a worker, and -not a blatherskite as hasn't done a day's work for years, and sets on -skunks like Stoate to rob honest men of their liberty. Don't you stand -there gassin' afore me, or I'll knock your hat over your eyes.' - -There was presumably a majority of Mr. Stoate's own persuasion around -listening to the foregoing remarks, but the onlookers did not seem -inclined to controvert this earnest speaker's arguments—seeing that he -was distinctly an awkward customer, as he stood there, obviously in hard -condition, and eager for the fray. - -'See here now, boys,' said a large imposing-looking policeman, 'sure -it's betther for yees to be gettin' a bit to ate and a sup of beer this -hot day, than to be disputing within the hearin' of the Coort, and may -be gettin' "run in" before sundown. Sure it's Misther Barker that's -sittin' the good example.' Here he pointed to the agitator, who, after -mumbling a few words about 'workers who didn't stand by their order,' -had moved off, and was heading straight for the bar of the Murrumbidgee -Hotel. - -This broke up the meeting, as the Union labourers were anxious to hear -the conclusion of the case, Regina _v._ Hardwick and others, and were -not unobservant either of the unusually large force of police which the -Resident Magistrate of Wagga Wagga, a man of proverbial courage and -experience, had called up, in anticipation of any _émeute_ which might -arise as a result of this exciting trial. At half-past one o'clock the -Judge, accompanied by the Deputy Sheriff, took his seat upon the Bench, -and the Court was again formally declared open. - -As the name Janus Stoate was called by the official, in a particularly -clear and audible voice, every eye was turned toward the door by which -the Crown witnesses entered, and that distinguished delegate walked in, -closely accompanied by a senior constable. - -His ordinarily assured and aggressively familiar manner had, however, -deserted him; he looked, as the spectators realised, some with surprise, -others with chagrin, more like a criminal than a Crown witness. - -Bill's gaze was fixed upon him, but instead of homicidal fury, his whole -countenance exhibited unutterable scorn, loathing, and contempt. As he -turned away, he confronted the spectators and the Court officials -generally, with a cheerful and gratified expression, unshared by his -companions in misfortune. - -Even they regarded Stoate with doubt and disfavour. Deeply suspicious -and often envious of their fellow-workmen who attained parliamentary -promotion, and more than that, a fixed and comfortable salary, they were -skilled experts in facial expression. In the lowered eyes and depressed -look of Mr. Delegate Stoate they read defeat and disaster, not -improbably treachery. - -'The beggar's been squared or "copped" for some bloomin' fake,' said the -prisoner on the other side of the man in irons. 'He's goin' to turn dog -on us, after all.' - -'If I don't get a "stretch,"' growled the other, 'his blood-money won't -do him no good.' - -'Silence in the Court,' said the senior Sergeant, and Mr. Stoate was -duly sworn. - -'Your name is Janus Stoate, and you are a shearer and a bush labourer?' -said the Crown Prosecutor. - -'That is so, mostly go shearin' when I can get a shed.' - -'Now, do you know the prisoners in the dock? Look at them well. Their -names are William Stokes, Daniel Lynch, Hector O'Halloran, Samson -Dawker, Jeremiah Abershaw, and William Hardwick.' - -'Yes, your Honour; I've met 'em as feller-workers. I don't know as I've -been pusson'ly intimate with 'em—except prisoner Hardwick.' - -'_He does know him_, to our sorrow, the false villain!' cried out Jenny, -coming a pace forward with a child in each hand, and delivering her -impeachment before any one could stop her. 'Ask him, your Honour, if he -hasn't lived with us, lived _upon_ us I call it, for weeks at a time—and -now he's going to bear false witness and ruin the family, body and -soul.' - -'Is this the person who interrupted before?' said the Judge. 'Order -_must_ be kept in the Court. Let her be removed.' Here the Deputy -Sheriff said a few words in a low tone to his Honour. 'Indeed!' said the -Judge mildly. 'She must control her feelings, however. My good woman, if -I hear another interruption, it will be my duty to have you removed from -the Court.' - -'Mrs. Hardwick,' said Biddulph, when Jenny's sobs had ceased, 'don't you -make a fool of yourself, you're hurting Bill's case. I thought you had -more sense. Do you want me to throw it up?' - -This settled poor Jenny effectually, and humbly begging pardon, she -promised amendment, and kept her word—only regarding Stoate from time to -time with the expression which she had assumed at times when a native -cat (_Dasyurus_) had got into her dairy. - -'Were you at a place called Poliah, on the river Darling, on or about -the 28th August last?' - -'Yes, I was.' - -'Was there a camp there of Unionist shearers?' - -'There was workers of all sorts, besides shearers, rouseabouts, and -labourers, also loafers.' - -'Very likely; but what I want you to tell me is, were they chiefly -shearers? In number, how many?' - -'Well, say six or seven 'underd.' - -'You acted as a delegate, I believe, under rules of the Australian -Shearers' Union, at several stations during shearing?' - -'I was app'inted as delegate by my feller-workers, and acted as sich on -several occasions.' - -'What were your duties as a delegate?' - -'I 'ad to be in the shed while shearin' was goin on, to see the rules of -the Australian Shearers' Union was carried out strickly, and that the -men got justice.' - -'In what way?' - -'Well, that they wasn't done out of their pay for bad shearin', when -they shore reasonable well; that they got proper food and lodgin', and -wasn't made shear wet sheep, which ain't wholesome—and other things, as -between employer and employee.' - -'As delegate, did you go to Poliah? and did you see a steamer called the -_Dundonald_ on the river?' - -'Yes, I did.' - -'Did you see a number of men rush on board of her, and take the free -labourers out of her?' - -'No. I was at the back of the camp persuadin' of the men not to use no -vi'lence. Then I heard a great hubbub, and guns fired. After that I saw -the steamer afire and drifting down river.' - -'Did you see who set it on fire?' - -'No.' - -'Did you see who fired the guns?' - -'No; I heard the reports of 'em.' - -'Did you see any men on the bank with guns in their hands?' - -'Yes; a line of 'em along the river.' - -'Were the prisoners now before the Court there?' - -'They might have been, I can't speak positive.' - -'Was the prisoner Hardwick there carrying a gun?' - -'I can't be sure. He might have been. I thought I saw him, but I wasn't -near him, and I can't be sure in my mind.' - -'You can't be sure?' asked the Crown Prosecutor angrily. 'Didn't you -swear at the Police Court at Dilga that you saw him not only holding a -gun, but firing it towards the steamer? I'll read your deposition. "I -saw the prisoner holding the gun produced. He appeared to have been -firing it."' - -'Now, Mr. Stoate, is that your signature? and how do you account for -your going back on your sworn evidence? You're intelligent enough—in a -way. I am at a loss to understand your conduct.' - -'Well, I was a bit flurried at the time—confused like. The police came -down and charged the mob, and a lot of the shearers cleared out.' - -'Then you won't swear that Hardwick held the gun, or fired it?' - -'No; I wasn't near enough to him to be dead certain. It was a man like -him.' - -'Your Honour,' said the Crown Prosecutor, 'this is a most extraordinary -change of front on the part of this witness; it amounts to gross -prevarication, if not something worse. I _may_ have occasion to -prosecute him for perjury. You may go down, sir.' - -'Not yet. With your Honour's permission, I propose to cross-examine the -witness,' interposed Mr. Biddulph. 'Now, Mr. Delegate Stoate, is Janus -your Christian name?' - -'Yes.' - -'Janus, is it? Sounds more heathen than Christian; more suitable also, -if I mistake not. Now, Janus Stoate, you're my witness, for the -present—remember that—and I advise you to be careful what you say, for -your own good, and don't "suppose" so much as you did in your answer to -my learned friend. You and Hardwick were on friendly terms before -shearing, and came down the river together?' - -'Yes, we were friends, in a manner of speakin'.' - -'Were you friends or not? Answer me, and don't fence. Have you not -stayed at his house often, for more than a week at a time?' - -'Yes, now and then—workers often help one another a bit. I'd 'a done the -same by him if he'd 'a come along the road lookin' for work.' - -'Given him house-room, and three meals a day for a week or more, I -daresay. But, let me see—_have you a house_?' - -'Well, not exactly. I live in Melbourne.' - -'Where?' - -'At a boarding-house.' - -'You left his house, then, for the shearing, the last time you were -there. You had board and lodging for the previous night, and came down -the river to North Yalla-doora together; is that so?' - -'Yes.' - -'Did you say you were a delegate before the shearing began?' - -'No.' - -'Why not?' - -'For no reason in partic'lar.' - -'Did you and he have a dispute on the road, and part company before you -came to North Yalla-doora?' - -'Well, we had a bit of a barney, nothing much.' - -'Oh! nothing much? You were at Tandara while the shearing was going on; -and did he and others refuse to come out on strike when you produced a -telegram from the Head Centre, or whatever you call him, at Wagga?' - -'He refused to obey the order of the properly app'inted hofficer of the -Australian Shearers' Union; and was disrespectful to me, pusson'ly.' - -'Did you then say that you would make it hot for him at the next shed?' - -'I don't remember. But I was displeased at his disloyal haction.' - -'Disloyal to whom? to the Queen?' - -'No, to a greater power than the Queen—to the People, as is represented -by the Australian Shearers' Union.' - -'Very good; keep that for your next speech. You'll find out something -about the powers of Her Majesty the Queen before long.' - -'Do you not think, Mr. Biddulph,' said the Judge, with much politeness, -'that you have tested this part of the cross-examination sufficiently?' - -'It was necessary to prove malice, your Honour; but I will proceed to -the witness's acts and deeds, which are more important. Now, Mr. -Delegate, answer these few questions straightforwardly.' - -'I am on my oath, Mr. Lawyer.' - -'I am aware of that; I don't attach much importance to the obligation, I -am sorry to say. Did you not say to the President of the Shearers' -Committee, during the riot, which might have ended in murder, and did -end in arson—"Send a couple of men with Bill Hardwick and put him in the -front with a rifle"?' - -'Nothing of the sort.' - -'If it is sworn by a respectable witness that he heard you, will you -still deny it?' - -'Certainly I will.' - -'Call Joseph Broad. (I merely call this witness to be identified, your -Honour.) Did you see this man at the shearers' camp?' to Stoate. - -'I saw him there, but that's all.' - -'That will do, Broad; go out of Court for the present. Did you hear your -President speak to him?' - -'Not to my knowledge.' - -'Did Lynch and another man stand on each side of Hardwick on the bank of -the river, and threaten to shoot him if he didn't stop there and hold -out his rifle?' - -'I didn't hear them.' - -'Now listen to me, and be very careful how you answer this question. Did -_you_ stand close behind him with a revolver and say, "Don't you move -for your life"?' - -'Not that I remember. We was all crushed up that close together, as the -crew of the steamer fired into us, that a man couldn't tell who was next -or anigh him.' - -'Very probably. That will do. Stay,' as Mr. Stoate turned away, and left -the witness-box with a relieved expression. 'Go into the box for a -moment. How did you come here—walk or ride?' - -'Rode.' - -'Rode your own horse?' - -'No, a police horse; I came up with Sergeant Kennedy.' - -'Oh, then, he lent you a horse—very kind of him—and accompanied you -here. How was that?' - -'Well, I believe there was some sort of a case trumped-up against me.' - -'Oh! some kind of a trumped-up case, was there? We'll hear more about -that, by and by. That will do for the present, Mr. Delegate.' - -The witness then left the Court, followed by the strange trooper, so -closely indeed, that but for the absence of handcuffs he might have been -thought to have been in custody. - -'Call Sergeant Kennedy.' - -John Kennedy, being duly sworn, deposed as follows: 'I am a senior -Sergeant of Police, stationed at Dilga, on Cowall Creek, which runs into -the Darling. I saw the last witness at Tandara Run on December the 20th -instant. He was given into my custody by Mr. Macdonald, the manager, -charged with wilfully and maliciously setting fire to the run. I -searched him in his presence and found on him two half-crowns, a knife, -a meerschaum pipe, a plug of tobacco, two sovereigns, a copy of Union -Shearers' rules, a letter, and a cheque. The cheque was drawn by John -Macdonald in favour of William Hardwick, dated 10th October. The amount -was £55: 17s.' - -When this announcement was made an audible murmur arose from the body of -the Court, even a few hisses were heard, which were promptly suppressed. -Bill opened his eyes in wonder and amazement, and then turned to where -Jenny sat crying peacefully to herself, but not from grief. Their money -had been recovered, their traitorous enemy disgraced and confounded. -She, in her mind's eye, saw her home once more glorified with Bill's -presence—a free, unstained man. God was merciful, and she despaired no -longer of His goodness. - -'You didn't observe anything in the rules of the A.S.U. as to pocketing -the cash of all shearers unfriendly to the Union? No? Then you may go -down.' - -'I have no questions to ask this witness,' said the Crown Prosecutor, -with emphasis—'at present, that is to say.' - -So Mr. J. Stoate, who had departed with the trooper, was for greater -safety and security lodged in the modern substitute for the dungeon of -the Middle Ages, until the Judge, after the finding of the jury, should -have pronounced sentence or otherwise on the _other_ prisoners. - - - CHAPTER VIII - -'Call Cyrus Cable!' for the defence. As the long-legged, bronzed -Sydney-sider lounged up to the witness-box, Bill's face, which had -assumed a more hopeful expression, became distinctly irradiated. For -this man was one of the shearers who had travelled down with him from -Tandara, and had agreed to drop all connection with the Union and its -revolutionary tactics. They had both been imprisoned at Poliah; had -suffered wrong and indignity at the hands of the insurgents. How had he -come up from the Darling, just in the nick of time? Bill didn't know, -but if he had seen Dick Donahue outside of the Court he might have -guessed. - -'My name's Cyrus Cable, native of Bathurst. I'm a shearer in the season; -have a selection at Chidowla, this side of Tumberumba. I know some of -the men in the dock; saw them at Poliah when the row was on and the -steamer was burnt.' - -'Will you point out any of the prisoners that you can identify?' - -'Well, there's Bill Hardwick, an old mate of mine—and fellow-prisoner, -if it comes to that. It's dashed hard lines on him to be scruffed and -gaoled by those Union scallowags, first for not joinin' 'em, and then -locked up and tried because they ill-treated him and he couldn't get -away. I call that a queer sort of law.' - -The witness is requested to confine himself to answering such questions -as are put to him, and not to give his opinion as to the law of the -land. - -'Do you identify any other prisoners?' - -'Yes. I saw that beauty with the hobbles on, fire his gun at the crew on -the boat twice; I saw him reload. He was one of the men as hustled Bill, -and the rest of our mob that came from Tandara, into the tent and set a -guard on us. I took notice of him then, and can swear to him positive.' - -'Was the prisoner Hardwick with the rioters?' - -'Yes, like me, because he couldn't help himself. I heard the President, -as he calls himself—there he is, the t'other end of the "bot" (I mean -the dock, but it's so like a branding pen)—say to that Janus Stoate, him -as passed the wire with our names when we left Tandara—"Put a good man -on each side of Bill Hardwick, so's he can't stir, and they'll take him -for a Unionist and keep pottin' at him. What fun it'll be!" and he -laughed. "I'll be behind him," says Stoate, "so he won't have no chance -of boltin'." That's the way it was worked to bring Bill, as straight a -chap as ever sharpened shears, into this steamer-burnin' racket.' - -'How was it that you and your mates left your comrade in the lurch?' - -'Well, we cleared as soon as the police came. The Union men bolted in -all directions and left the free labourers to mind themselves. We -thought Bill was comin' after us, and never missed him till we were -miles away.' - -'Did you not return to rescue him?' - -'No fear! We thought the police might run _us_ in for "aidin' and -abettin'." It was every man for himself, and the devil take the -hindmost.' - -The witness was reprimanded for levity, and directed not to refer to the -devil unnecessarily. In cross-examination he stated that he took -particular notice of the man in irons, as he had repeatedly struck him -and his mates with the butt-end of his rifle. Like the other rebels, he -was very brave against unarmed men, but cut it when the police showed -they meant business. - -'Have you not a revengeful feeling against the prisoner Abershaw, the -one who is (very improperly, in my opinion) brought into the Court in -leg-irons?' - -'Well, I've the feelings of a man, and I don't cotton to a cowardly dog -who kept rammin' the butt-end of his gun into the small of my back, when -I couldn't defend myself. But I'm here to speak the truth, and to get -justice for an innocent man.' - -'I suppose you were told that you would be paid your expense for -attending this trial?' - -'I got a Crown subpœna. So did Martin.' - -'Who served it to you?' - -'A police constable at Toovale.' - -'Was anybody with him?' - -'Yes, Dick Donahue. He told me and my mate, Martin Hannigan, that Bill -Hardwick was to be tried at Wagga for burnin' the _Dundonald_ and -shootin' at the crew. "That be hanged for a yarn!" says I. "Fancy Bill, -with a farm and a wife and kids, settin' out to burn steamers and kill -people! Holy Moses! Are you sure he didn't rob a church, while he was -about it?" But he said it was no laughing matter, and he might get three -years in gaol. So of course we come, and would have turned up if we'd -had to do it on foot and pay our own expenses!' - -'Of course, your Honour will note this witness's evident bias?' said the -counsel for the prisoners. - -'I shall take my notes in the ordinary manner,' said the Judge. 'It is -not necessary for counsel to suggest points of practice to a Judge -before he addresses the Court at the conclusion of the evidence.' - -'Your Honour will perhaps pardon me; I thought it might have escaped -your notice.' - -'I trust, Mr. Carter, that _nothing_ escapes my notice in an important -criminal case. Let the next witness be called.' - -'Martin Hannigan is your name?' said Mr. Biddulph. 'You were at Poliah -Camp on the 28th of August, were you not? Do you know the prisoners -before the Court?' - -'Some of them. I know Bill Hardwick, and the man with the leg-irons, but -not his name. Yes; I know the one with the black beard—they called him -the President.' - -'Who called him by that title?' - -'The shearers, or rioters, or loafers, whoever they were. They were six -of one and half-a-dozen of the other, if you ask me.' - -'Never mind answering what you are not asked. What did you _see them -do_?' - -'Well—Mr. President and his mob, all armed, made Bill and me and eight -or nine other chaps that came down from Tandara, prisoners of war, in a -manner of speakin'—"robbery under arms" I call it, for they boned our -swags, our horses, our grub, and our pack-saddles. I found the horses, -when they were boltin' from the police, or we should 'a never seen 'em -again; two of us had to ride bareback. I seen that gaol-bird there—he's -"done time," I'll take my oath—and another man shovin' Bill Hardwick -between them towards the river-bank—one of 'em was puttin' a gun into -his hand—swore he'd shoot him if he didn't carry it. I saw one of 'em -fire at the boat. I'd not swear he hit anybody. I heard the "President" -say, "We'll burn the bally boat; that'll learn 'em to bring 'scabs' down -the river." I saw the steamer blaze up after the crew and free labourers -was out. Then the police came, and Martin, my mate, and I cleared for -our lives. We caught our horses in a bend and rode down the river to -Toovale, when we got a non-Union shed, and wired in. That's about all I -know.' - -By the Crown Prosecutor. - -'Your name is Martin Hannigan. Are you an Irishman?' - -'No, nor an Englishman either. I'm an Australian, and so was my father. -What's that to do with the case?' - -'I thought you were rather humorous in your evidence, that's all. The -Irish are a witty race, you know.' - -'So they say. I've never been there. Anythin' else you'd like to ask -me?' - -'Only a few questions. When were you served with a subpœna to attend -this Court, and where?' - -'At Toovale, on the Lower Darling. The policeman came to the shed where -Cable and I were working and served us. Dick Donahue came with him, and -told us that Bill Hardwick was being tried with the other men for -burning the _Dundonald_.' - -'Didn't you know before? That seems strange.' - -'Well, we were workin' hard to make up for lost time, by this strike -foolishness, and we were too dashed tired at night to go in for readin' -papers, or anything but supper and a smoke.' - -'I suppose Donahue told you all about Hardwick's being arrested, and you -had a talk over the case—what evidence you could give, and so on.' - -'He didn't say much about evidence. He knew we was there, and seen all -there was to see; might have _felt_ something too, if a bullet had come -our way—they were flying pretty thick for a few minutes. I seen that -President chap fire once, and load again.' - -'And that was all that passed?' - -'Yes, pretty well all; we weren't "coached," if that's what you mean.' - -'You swear that you saw that man fire, and load again?' - -'Yes.' - -'Did you see the free labourers?' - -'Yes, forty or fifty; some looked damp, as they had been chucked into -the river. Some had only their shirts on. They were stood up in a line, -and counted like a lot of store cattle. They cleared off like us, when -the police came, and the Union fellows bolted. We passed little mobs of -them makin' down the river.' - -'You swear you didn't see Hardwick fire his gun?' - -'It wasn't his gun, and he didn't shoot.' - -The sensational part of the trial was over; other witnesses were -examined for the defence. They agreed in 'swearing up' for the prisoners -before the Court, always excepting for Bill Hardwick. 'The other four -men had exhibited great mildness, and a desire for peace. They had not -seen the captain of the _Dundonald_ assaulted; they saw the steamer on -fire—they didn't know how it had started burnin'—might have been from -kerosene in the cargo—it often happened. There was some shooting, but -the crew of the steamer fired first. They didn't see any of the -prisoners firing at the boat, except William Hardwick. Would swear -positive that he had a gun, and loaded, after he fired every time—yes, -every time. Saw no men thrown overboard. Some of them swam ashore, but -they did it of their own accord.' - -These witnesses broke down under cross-examination. - -The Crown Prosecutor made a brief but powerful address to the jury, -pointing out discrepancies in evidence, and the manifest perjury -committed by the last witnesses. He trusted the jury would not overlook -their conduct, and appraise their evidence at its true value. - -The counsel for the defence, a well-known barrister, made a long and -impassioned appeal to the jury 'to excuse the more or less technically -illegal acts, which, he admitted, could not be defended. It was, -however, in the line of "rough justice," the origin of which was a long -series of capitalistic tyranny and oppression. They had suffered long -from inadequate payment for their skilled labour, for shearing was no -ordinary muscle work which could be performed by the mere nomadic -labourer of the day. It required an apprenticeship, sometimes lasting -for years. It was difficult, and exhausting beyond all other bush -labour, having to be performed at a high rate of speed and for long -hours, unknown to the European workman. The food was of bad quality, the -cooking rude. The huts in which they had to dwell, worse than stables, -nearly always. They had besides to travel long distances, expensive in -time lost and wayside accommodation. For all these reasons, they had -come to the conclusion that the question of pay and allowances, with -other matters, required reconstruction, and failing to obtain a -conference with the Employers' Union—a combination of squatters, -merchants, bankers, and plutocrats generally—they had used the only -weapon the law allowed to the workers of Australia and had organised a -_strike_. - -'The labour leaders had in all cases counselled moderation and -constitutional action for the redressing of their wrongs. But—and it was -by none more regretted than by the labour organisers themselves—rude and -undisciplined members of the Union had resorted to personal violence, -and had injured the property of squatters and others, believed to be -desirous of crushing Unionism. Some allowance might be made for these -men. They saw their means of livelihood menaced by cargoes of free -labourers, bought up like slaves by the capitalistic class. They saw -their wages lowered, their industry interfered with—the bread taken out -of their mouth, so to speak—by a wealthy combination, which had no -sympathy for the workers of the land, who had by their labour built up -this enormous wool industry, now employing armies of men and fleets of -vessels. - -'Were they, the creators of all this wealth, to be put off with a crust -of bread and a sweating wage? No! They had been worked up to frenzy by a -plutocratic invasion of their natural rights; and if they crossed the -line of lawful resistance to oppression, was it to be wondered at? He -trusted that his Honour, in the highly improbable event of a verdict of -"guilty," would see his way to inflict a merely nominal term of -imprisonment, which, he undertook to say, would act as an effective -caution for the future.' - -His Honour proceeded to sum up. 'In this case, the prisoners were -charged with committing a certain act, distinctly a criminal offence, -punishable by a term of imprisonment. He would not dilate upon the -collateral results, but impress upon the jury that all they had to -consider was the evidence which they had heard. Did the evidence point -conclusively to the fact that the prisoners had committed the crime of -arson—the burning of the steamer _Dundonald_—then and there, on the 28th -of August last, on the waters of the Darling River? With the conflicting -interests of the pastoral employers, and the rate of wages, or the -propriety of strikes, or otherwise, they had nothing whatever to do. He -would repeat, _nothing whatever to do_. - -'Did they believe the evidence for the prosecution? He would take that -evidence, _seriatim_, from his notes. - -'First there was that of the officer of Volunteers, which was direct and -circumstantial. He deposes to having seen the steamer _Dundonald_ -floating down the river, burning fiercely then, with apparently no one -on board. He saw a large camp of armed men, who shouted out that they -had burnt the steamer, and would roast the captain and crew, for -bringing up blacklegs. This last expression, he was informed, meant -non-Union labourers. He caused the arrest of several men with arms in -their hands, pointed out to him as having fired at the crew of the -vessel, or having set fire to her. Among them was the prisoner Hardwick, -who had a gun in his hand. - -'The next witness was the sergeant of Volunteers. He saw the burning -vessel, the crowd of armed men, and also men firing in the direction of -a barge containing the crew presumably. He arrested by the colonel's -order the six prisoners now before the Court, as well as others. They -had arms in their hands. - -'Captain Dannaker of the _Dundonald_ deposed to a very serious state of -matters. He had as passengers forty-five free labourers. Before -daylight, a band of armed, disguised men boarded the vessel—of which -they took full possession. Their action was not far removed from that of -pirates. They threatened with death the captain, the crew, the agent of -the Employers' Union, several of whom were assaulted, and ill-used. They -"looted" the steamer, to use an Indian term—smashing cabins and -appropriating private property. These unlawful acts they completed by -forcing the free labourers to land, compelling the crew to go into the -barge, setting the steamer on fire and casting her away, after which she -was observed to sink. He also saw men on the river-bank firing at the -crew and passengers. He identifies Abershaw, the prisoner in irons, as -the man who assaulted and threatened him. He did not notice prisoner -Hardwick. - -'Mr. Davidson, the agent of the Employers' Union, corroborates the -foregoing evidence in all particulars. He himself was assaulted, as were -the free labourers. He saw the rioters throw some of the free labourers -overboard. He saw them unloosing the steamer and preparing it for -burning. His clothes and money were taken out of his cabin. He -identifies Abershaw, but not prisoner Hardwick. He identifies Dawker, -the man with the large beard, as the "President," so called. - -'The witness for the Crown, Janus Stoate, gave, in his (the Judge's) -opinion, unsatisfactory evidence after the adjournment. He described -himself as a shearer; also a delegate appointed by the Shearers' Union. -Though present at the scene of outrage, he apparently saw no one conduct -himself indiscreetly, with the exception of his friend and -fellow-shearer, William Hardwick. He swears that he saw _him_ load and -fire a gun in the direction of the steamer. He did not see the two -prisoners Abershaw and Dawker, identified by the other witnesses, say or -do anything illegal. He heard the report of firearms, but could not say -who used them, except in the case of Hardwick. In several respects his -evidence differed from that given before the Bench of Magistrates at -Dilga Court of Petty Sessions, when the prisoners were committed for -trial. He admitted in cross-examination having had a quarrel with -Hardwick at Tandara woolshed, and to having arrived here in custody. - -'Sergeant Kennedy, of the New South Wales Police, deposes to the arrest -of this witness at Tandara station, on a charge of maliciously setting -fire to the grass on the run, and to finding in his pocket, when -searched, a cheque drawn in favour of William Hardwick for £55: 17s., -said prisoner having previously testified as to its being lost or -stolen. - -'He would tell the jury here that he had no confidence whatever in the -evidence of the witness Stoate. He appeared to have prevaricated, and -also to have been actuated by a revengeful feeling in the case of -William Hardwick, though, strange to say, he was apparently without eyes -or ears in the case of the other prisoners, all of whom had been -positively identified as having been seen in the commission of unlawful -acts. In conclusion, he would entreat the jury to examine carefully, to -weigh well, the evidence in this very serious and important case, and -with close adherence to the obligation of their oaths, to bring in their -verdict accordingly. The Court now stands adjourned till two o'clock.' - -The jury were absent more than an hour, and during that time Mr. -Biddulph persuaded Jenny to have a cup of tea, and otherwise refresh -herself and the children, who had outstayed their usual meal-time. - -She, with difficulty, was induced to touch anything: dead to all -ordinary feelings, as she described herself, until Bill's fate was -decided. 'How can I think of anything else?' she exclaimed passionately -to Dick Donahue, who, with unfailing optimism, tried to convince her -that Bill must be let off, and next day would be with her and the -children on the way to Chidowla. - -'How can we tell?' said she. 'Wasn't there Jack Woodman, and the lawyers -told him he must be let off on a point of law, instead of which he got -three years, and he's in gaol now.' - -'Ah! but that was for cattle-stealing,' replied Mr. Donahue; 'and Jack -had been run in before, for duffing fats off Mount Banda—tried too, and -got off by the skin of his teeth. This time he shook a selector's -poddies, and the jury couldn't stand that. But Bill's innocent, as -everybody knows. See what the Judge said about Stoate's evidence! I'll -bet you a hat to a new bonnet that Bill's out a free man this afternoon, -and that Stoate's in the dock for settin' fire to Tandara, with a six to -one on chance of seem' the inside of Berrima Gaol, and those four other -chaps to keep him company.' - -Jenny couldn't help relaxing into a wintry smile at this reassuring -prophecy. But her face assumed its wonted seriousness as she said, -'Well, Dick Donahue, you've been a staunch friend all through this -trouble, and I'll never forget you and Biddy for it as long as I live, -and Bill won't neither.' - -'Don't be troubling yourself about that, Mrs. Hardwick,' said Donahue. -'You were a good friend to her and her children before all this -racket—they would have wanted many a meal only for you. But I'm a -changed man. I've some hope before me, thanks to Mr. Calthorpe; and if -Bill will go partners with me, we'll be Hardwick and Donahue, with a -tidy cattle-station one day yet.' - -'The Court's sitting,' called out some one, 'and the jury's agreed.' A -rush was made by all interested persons and the spectators generally. -Not a seat was vacant as the Court official demanded silence, and the -Judge's Associate proceeded to read out the names of the jurors, who, -headed by their foreman, stood in line on the floor of the Court. - -'Are you agreed, Mr. Foreman, on your verdict?' - -'We are.' - -'How do you find?' - -'We find William Stokes, Daniel Lynch, Hector O'Halloran, Samson Dawker, -and Jeremiah Abershaw guilty of arson, and we find William Hardwick _not -guilty_.' - -The verdict of guilty was received in silence. A number of the -spectators were Unionists, and though the more sensible members of the -association had always been opposed to lawless proceedings, yet from a -mistaken sense of comradeship they felt bound not to repudiate the acts -of any of their confraternity. No doubt at the next ballot the voting -would have been almost unanimous against injury to property, and such -outrages as the law's slow but sure retribution has never yet failed to -overtake. - -But when the verdict of 'Not Guilty' was announced, there was a cheer -which it tasked the stern mandate of the Deputy-Sheriff and the vigorous -efforts of the police to suppress. Jenny did not hear much of it, as the -fateful words had barely been pronounced when she fell as if dead. She -was promptly carried out into the witnesses' room, and measures taken -for her recovery. When she came to herself, Bill was bending over her, -and the children, smiling amidst their tears, were holding fast to one -of his hands. - - * * * * * - -Anxious as both husband and wife were to shake the Wagga dust from their -feet and get away up the river to their half-deserted home, Bill's Court -work was not yet concluded. He was constrained to appear again in the -memorable cases of Regina _versus_ Stoate, charged with arson, and the -same Gracious Lady (who impersonates Nemesis on so many occasions over -such a wide area of the earth's surface) _versus_ Stoate, charged with -'larceny from the person.' - -No sooner had the jury been dismissed, and, with the witnesses, were -wending their way to the office of the Clerk of the Bench, expectant of -expenses, than the Crown Prosecutor addressed his Honour, representing -that only at luncheon had he received the depositions in a fresh case—he -referred to that of Regina _versus_ Stoate. He was aware that the cases -just disposed of had been supposed to conclude the sitting, and that his -Honour was expected at Narrabri the day after to-morrow; but under the -peculiar circumstances, as several of the witnesses and two members of -the legal profession who were concerned in the last case were to be -briefed in this, he trusted that his Honour would overlook his personal -discomfort, and consent to deal with this case at the present sitting of -the Court. - -His Honour feared that the jurors and witnesses in the heavy cases at -Narrabri might suffer inconvenience by the postponement of his -departure; but, as the adjourning of this case to the next Assize -Court—nearly five months—would more seriously affect all concerned, and -as he was opposed on principle to prisoners on committal being detained -in gaol, or defendants delayed one week longer than was actually -necessary, he would accede to counsel's very reasonable request. - -'Let another jury be impanelled, Mr. Associate, and then adjourn the -Court until ten o'clock to-morrow morning. I shall consider the evidence -taken in the previous cases, and deliver the sentences at the opening of -the Court. The prisoners may be removed.' - -On the following morning the five prisoners were again placed in the -dock, looking anxious, and more or less despondent, with the exception -of Abershaw, the man in irons. He was a hardened offender, and reckless -as to what might befall him in the shape of punishment. He had served -terms of imprisonment in another colony. Like many criminals, he had -unfortunately not taken warning by previous penalties, as it was less -than a year since he had been released. He looked around with an -affected contempt for his surroundings, and smiled at an occasional -sympathiser in Court with unabashed defiance. - -But, as the Judge commenced to address the prisoners before announcing -the sentences, the look of tension on the other men's faces was painful -to witness, and even _he_ appeared to feel the seriousness of the -situation. - -'William Stokes, Daniel Lynch, Hector O'Halloran, Samson Dawker, -Jeremiah Abershaw, you have been found guilty, on the clearest evidence, -of a dangerous and concerted attack on society. If organisations of this -kind were permitted—if lawless bodies of men, organising themselves with -the discipline of a military force, were permitted to go about the -country interfering with honest men—there could be no safety for any one -in the community. I am gratified to find that the jury have arrived at -the only conclusion rational men could arrive at in such a case, and -with no more time spent in deliberation than was necessary to consider -the case of each man separately. I do not suppose that, excepting the -residents of the neighbourhood of Poliah and the Lower Darling region -generally, people are fully aware of what has been going on there. - -'I have had a tolerable knowledge of the country, but I had no idea, -until I came to try this case, what a state of things existed in the -locality mentioned in depositions—a state of things probably -unparalleled in the history of New South Wales. - -'I should not have thought it possible that six or seven hundred men -could camp on a main stock route, by a navigable river, for the purpose -of preventing honest men going to work, much less could capture, bind -them as prisoners, and hold them as such. - -'Let any one contemplate what may follow if this kind of thing is -permitted. There would be an end of liberty and safety; but the law -exists for the protection of all, whether high or low, in the community, -and those who take part in proceedings of this kind must expect to have -every man's heart hardened against them. If a man's liberty were -interfered with, if his life were threatened by overwhelming numbers, he -and every other honest man is entitled to protect himself by taking the -lives of those who come upon him. This, in law, is termed justifiable -homicide; on the other hand, if lawless persons take life, they are -guilty of murder. - -'Having explained the law on intimidation, I will pass on to the -circumstances more immediately surrounding the case. It is proved beyond -doubt that the _Dundonald_ steamer was deliberately and wilfully set on -fire by the prisoners and others. If any person had perished in the -flames by their act, or if, when shooting at the vessel, any of the crew -or passengers had been killed, they would now be on their trial for -murder. - -'As it is, they have, most properly, been found guilty of arson by the -jury, a crime punishable, under Victoria No. 89, section 6, with -imprisonment with hard labour, and solitary confinement. - -'I accordingly sentence Samson Dawker, who has been referred to as the -"President," and Jeremiah Abershaw, to three years' imprisonment with -hard labour, and periods of solitary confinement, both to be served in -Berrima Gaol. The other prisoners do not appear to have been so actively -employed in these unlawful, demoralising acts. They are therefore -sentenced to two years' imprisonment only, with hard labour. I cannot -conclude my remarks without stating that I fully agree with the verdict -of acquittal by the jury in the case of William Hardwick, who might have -been deprived of his liberty by a conspiracy of unprincipled persons, -had not the jury rightly discriminated as to the manifest unreliability -of the evidence against him. He therefore is enabled to leave the Court, -I have pleasure in stating, without a stain upon his character.' - - - REGINA _v._ STOATE. - - _Charged with Arson._ - -'May it please your Honour,' said the Crown Prosecutor, 'the prisoner -before the Court is charged with wilfully and maliciously setting fire -to the grass of the Tandara Run. I purpose calling the arresting -constable and the manager, Mr. Macdonald; also the aboriginal Daroolman, -who is exceptionally intelligent. The case will not be a lengthy one. -Call Senior Sergeant Kennedy.' - -'My name is John Kennedy, Senior Sergeant of the New South Wales Police -Force, stationed at Dilga, on the Darling. I called at Tandara station -on duty. I there saw Mr. Macdonald, the manager. He remarked that there -had been no rain for a month, and the grass was very dry. He requested -me to accompany him a few miles on the up-river road. He mentioned that -a man named Stoate had left shortly before, having been refused rations, -threatening "to get square with him." He considered him a likely person -to set fire to the Run, and was just going to track him up. - -'I agreed, and put my black boy on the trail. After riding two or three -miles, the boy pointed to the tracks leaving the road and making towards -a sandhill. We rode fast, as we saw smoke rising. The aboriginal said -"that one swaggie makum fire longa grass, me seeum lightem match." We -saw a man kneeling down, and galloped towards him. Apparently he did not -hear us coming; as he looked up he seemed surprised. The grass around -him had just ignited and was burning fiercely. There was no wood near. -Mr. Macdonald seized him by the arm, saying, "You scoundrel! You're a -pretty sort of delegate! I thought you were up to some mischief." -Prisoner seemed confused and unable to say anything. The black boy -picked up a brass match-box, half full of wax matches; also a -half-burned wax match. The match-box (which I produce) had J. S. -scratched on one side. Prisoner declined to say anything, except that he -was going to boil his billy. There was no wood, nor any trace of roadway -in the vicinity. I arrested him on the charge of setting fire to the -Tandara Run. He made no reply. On searching him I found the cheque -referred to in my former depositions, it was drawn in favour of William -Hardwick for £55: 17s., also a knife, two sovereigns, and some small -articles. I conveyed him to the lock-up at Curbin, where he appeared -before the Bench of Magistrates, and was committed to take his trial at -the next ensuing Assize Court. We put out the fire with difficulty; if -it had beat us it might have destroyed half the grass on the Run.' - -John Macdonald, being sworn, states: - -'I am the manager of Tandara station. I have known the prisoner, off and -on, for some years, as a shearer and bush labourer. He came to me on -December 20th and asked for rations. He was on foot. I said, "You had -better ask the Shearers' Union to feed you, I have nothing for -agitators; you tried to spoil our shearing, and now you come whining for -rations." I threatened to kick him off the place. - -'He went away muttering, "I'll get square with you yet." Being uneasy, I -mounted my horse, and shortly afterwards the last witness and a black -boy came up, and at my request accompanied me. The boy followed his -track till it turned off the main road in the direction of a sandhill. -As we rode nearer, a small column of smoke rose up. We found prisoner -standing by the fire, which had just started. I saw the black boy pick -up the box of matches (produced in Court) from under prisoner's feet. It -was marked J. S., and was nearly full of wax matches. The black boy -pointed to a half-burnt match, close to the tuft of grass from which the -fire had started. I said, "You scoundrel! You're a pretty sort of -delegate!" I saw the sergeant take the cheque (produced) for £55: 17s., -payable to William Hardwick, out of his pocket. If we had been five -minutes later, all the men in the country couldn't have put the fire -out; it would have swept the Run.' - -'What would have been the effect of that?' asked the Judge. - -'We might have had to travel 100,000 sheep, which alone would have -needed fifty shepherds, besides the expense of cooks and -ration-carriers, with tents, provisions, and loss of sheep. Altogether -it would have meant an expenditure of several thousand pounds at the -very least—besides injury to the sheep.' - -'Have you any questions to ask, prisoner?' said the Judge. - -'None,' said Mr. Stoate. 'These witnesses are at the beck of the -capitalistic class, and will swear anything.' - -Richard Donahue and the black boy corroborated the previous evidence, -the latter saying, 'Me seeum light when piccaninny match-box tumble down -alonga that one fella tarouser.' - -Being asked if he had anything to say in his defence, Mr. Stoate elected -to be sworn, taking the oath with great solemnity, and making a -long-winded, rambling defence, in which he abused the capitalists, the -police, the bankers, and the selectors, who, he said, were all in a -league with the 'plutercrats' to crush the Union workers, and grind down -the faces of the poor. With regard to the cheque, he had picked it up, -and intended to restore it to Hardwick. If that man swore that he never -gave him or any other man authority to take care of his money, he swore -what was false. It was a common custom among mates. If the jury -convicted him on this trumped-up charge, which any one could see was -manufactured, he would willingly suffer in the cause of his -fellow-workers. But let the oppressor beware—a day of reckoning would -come! - - - CHAPTER IX - -The Court was not very full. The 'fellow-workers' to whom Stoate so -often referred had made up their minds about him. Open warfare, rioting, -plunder, even arson or bloodshed, in a moderate degree they would have -condoned. But to be _caught in the act_ of setting fire to a Run, and -detected with a stolen cheque in your pocket—that cheque, too, belonging -to a shearer—these were offences of mingled meanness and malignity which -no Union Caucus could palliate. 'He's a disgrace to the Order; the -Associated Workers disown him. The Judge'll straighten him, and it's -hoped he'll give him a good "stretch" while he's about it.' - -This was the prejudicial sentence. And having made up their minds that -their over-cunning ex-delegate by dishonourable imprudence had played -into the hands of the enemy, few of the Unionists took the trouble to -attend, for the melancholy pleasure of hearing sentence passed on their -late comrade and 'officer.' - -So, the evidence being overwhelming, the jury found Mr. Stoate guilty, -and the Judge, having drawn attention to the recklessness and revengeful -feeling shown by the prisoner—not halting at the probable consequences -of a crime against society, by which human life might have been -endangered, if not sacrificed—sentenced him to five years' imprisonment -with hard labour. He was immediately afterwards arraigned on the charge -of 'stealing from the person,' and the sergeant's evidence, as well as -that of Hardwick, was shortly taken. Being again found guilty, he was -sentenced to two years' imprisonment—which, however, the Judge decreed -to be concurrent, trusting that the longer term of incarceration might -suffice for reformation. In conclusion, he again congratulated William -Hardwick on the recovery of his money and his character, both of which -he had so nearly lost through association with men who had banded -themselves together to defy the law of the land, and to attempt illegal -coercion of workmen who differed from their opinions. - -Such associations often led to consequences not foreseen at the time. -Many a man had cause to blame them for loss of liberty, if not life. He -trusted that this lesson would be received in the way of warning, and -that he and all honest working-men who had witnessed the proceedings in -this Court would go home resolved to do their duty in their own station -of life, not following blindly the lead of agitators, however glib of -speech, who might prove as unprincipled and dangerous guides as the -prisoner who had just received sentence. - -No time was lost, it may be imagined, by Bill and Jenny in 'clearing,' -as they expressed it, for Chidowla. The coach for Tumut held a very -cheerful load when he and she, in company with Dick Donahue, who had -covered himself with glory, and had a satisfactory outing as well, took -their seats. Bill wished to cash his newly-found cheque, but -Jenny—practical as usual—persuaded him to give it to her for -transmission to Mr. Calthorpe. - -'I brought down a pound or two that I'd got stowed away, and there'll be -just enough to take us back without breaking the cheque. Mr. Calthorpe's -stood by us, and we must do our level best to get square again, and show -the bank as he knows the right people to back. I'll go bail we'll do it -inside a year, if we don't have any more delegate and Union business, -eh, Bill?' - -'No fear!' replied Bill with emphasis. 'I'm another man now, though I -won't get the feel of them handcuffs off me for a month o' Sundays. I'm -goin' to be a free labour cove, to the last day of my life. And Janus -Stoate's where he wanted to put me, d—n him! I hope he feels -comfortable. But I'll never give the clever chaps as lives on us fools -of shearers a chance to work such a sell again. Dick, old man, you stood -to me like a trump. We must see if we can't go in for a partnership, -when we're turned round a bit. What do you say, Jenny?' - -'I say yes,' said Jenny, 'with all my heart. Biddy's milkin' those cows -of ours now, or I don't know what I'd 'a done. I believe if we put both -our selections into a dairy farm we could make money hand over fist. But -we must have more cows; this cheque of Bill's—and Jenny slapped her -pocket triumphantly—now we've got it, will buy near a dozen, and we'll -soon make a show.' - -Dick Donahue, for the first time in his life, found hardly anything to -say. He gripped both their hands, but brought out little more than -'Thank ye, thank you both! You've given me a new lease of life, and -I'll—I'll keep my side up—now I've something ahead of me, or my name's -not Dick Donahue. Thank God, it's a grand season, and that gives us a -clear start, anyhow.' - -When they arrived at Tumut—some time after dark, but all well and -happy—they found Biddy awaiting them with the spring cart, which she had -driven over. There were a few stumps on the road, but Bill's eyes were -good, so that they got home safely and with a superior appetite for the -supper which Biddy had set out for them. This they discussed with their -friends, who had much to hear and tell; after which the Donahues drove -away and left them to the enjoyment of their home, which looked like a -palace to Bill, after his misfortunes and adventures. - -They were both up, however, before sunrise next morning, and at the -milking-yard, where they found everything just as it should be. In the -dairy, moreover, there was a keg of butter three-parts full, which Biddy -had made during their absence. Bill was thinking of going into Talmorah -after breakfast, when a boy galloped up with a letter from Mr. -Calthorpe, requesting him not to come in till Saturday (the day after -next), as a few friends and fellow-townsmen wished to meet him at two -o'clock at the Teamster's Arms to show their regret at his undeserved -persecution, and to present him with an Address, expressive of the same. - -'Bother it all,' said Bill, 'I wish they'd let a fellow alone. I suppose -I shall have to make a speech.' - -'Oh, you _must_ go,' said Jenny. 'Mr. Calthorpe wants you, and we -mustn't be ungrateful after all he's done for us. Besides, didn't you -make one at Tandara, when the shed had cut out, after "long Jim -Stanford" euchred the Head Centre at Wagga? My word, you were coming on -then; next thing you'd 'a stood for Parliament, or been elected -delegate, any way.' - -'See here, Jenny,' replied Bill. 'I suppose I'll have to say something -when they give me this Address, as they call it; but after that's over, -if any one but you says a word about our "feller-workers" or "criminal -capital," or any bally Union rot of that kind, I'll knock him over, as -sure as my name is Bill Hardwick.' - - * * * * * - -Bill and Jenny went into Talmorah a little before twelve o'clock on -Saturday morning, the former to meet his friends, and the latter to pay -in the celebrated cheque to their account, and have a few words with the -banker; also, to make quite sure that Bill didn't have more than a -whisky or two on the auspicious occasion. When the meeting was assembled -in the big room at the Teamster's Arms, they were astonished at the -number of townspeople that turned up. Some, too, of the neighbouring -squatters appeared, whom they only knew by name, and that Bill had never -worked for. The clergyman, the priest, the opposition banker, the -storekeepers, great and small, were there—in fact, everybody. - -Saturday afternoon in country places is a recognised holiday, except for -shop assistants; and as they have on other days of the week much leisure -time on their hands, they do not object. It is a change, an excitement, -and as such to be made the most of. - -A long table had been laid on trestles in the 'hall' of the principal -hotel, a room which had been used indifferently in the earlier days of -Talmorah, when it was a struggling hamlet, for holding Divine service, -police courts, and 'socials,' which included dancing, singing, -recitations, and other expedients subversive of monotony. - -Couples had been married there by the monthly arriving minister; -prisoners sentenced to terms of imprisonment, even hanged, after -depositions duly taken there and the verdict of a coroner's jury. -Political meetings had been held, and on the election of a member for -the district it had been used for a polling booth, so that it was well -and favourably known to the inhabitants of the town and district, and no -one had any difficulty in finding it. It was now more crowded than on -any occasion recalled by the oldest inhabitant. - -Mr. Thornhill, the principal landowner in the district, holding the -position by reason of his wealth, power, and popularity, which is -generally yielded to the squire in the old country, was unanimously -elected chairman, and opened the proceedings. - -'Ladies and gentlemen,' he commenced—'for I am pleased to see so many of -the former present, as also my good friends and neighbours in the -district, who have worked with me in peace and harmony for so many -years—(murmur of applause)—we are met together this day to do an act of -simple justice, as well as of neighbourly kindness, by welcoming back to -his home and friends a man whom we have all known personally or by -report as an honest, straightforward, industrious settler. A man of -small means, but a son of the soil, and the head of a family. -(Interjection—"No; Jenny's the boss.") (Laughter.) My friend who -corrected me, doubtless with the best intentions, is aware, as I am, -that a good wife is the very sheet-anchor of success in -life—(cheers)—and that probably, if our friend Hardwick had taken her -counsel rather than that of agitators and false friends, he would not -have suffered the pecuniary loss, anxiety, and—er—inconvenience which we -so deeply regret this day. (Great cheering.) However, that is past and -gone; we have now a pleasurable aspect of the case to dwell upon. We -congratulate our friend, Mr. William Hardwick, and his good and true -wife, upon their return to their home and their neighbours, by whom they -are so deservedly respected. (Immense cheering.) In this connection it -should not be overlooked that the high character, the result of years of -honest industry, neighbourly kindness, and upright dealing, was of -signal advantage in the time of need. By it they had gained staunch -friends, who stood by them in the day of adversity. Mr. Calthorpe, the -manager of the Bank of Barataria, had done his best for them, and they -knew what a power for good a gentleman in that position could be in a -country place. (Loud cheering.) Their neighbour, Mr. Donahue, had -mustered important witnesses for the defence in a manner which only a -good bushman, as well as a good friend, could have accomplished, while -Mrs. Donahue had personally managed the farm and the dairy in Mrs. -Hardwick's absence. (Repeated bursts of cheering.) Other friends and -neighbours, among whom he was proud to number himself, had helped in the -matter of expense, which, as everybody knew who had anything to do with -law and lawyers, was unavoidable. (Cheers and laughter.) Though here he -must admit that his friend Mr. Biddulph's professional services were -invaluable, and if ever he or any of his hearers got into a tight -place—well, he would say no more. (Great cheering and laughter.) He -would now read the Address. Mr. William Hardwick, please to stand -forward.' - -Here Bill advanced, looking far from confident. However, as he -confronted the chairman, he held up his head and manfully faced the -inevitable, while the following Address was read:— - -'To Mr. William Hardwick of Chidowla Creek. - -'DEAR SIR—We, the undersigned residents of Talmorah, desire to -congratulate you and Mrs. Hardwick upon your return to your home and -this neighbourhood, during your long residence in which you have been -deservedly respected for industrious, straightforward conduct. We have -sympathised with you sincerely, while regretting deeply the unmerited -persecution by which you have suffered. We feel proud to think that -residents of this district were chiefly instrumental in establishing -your innocence, their evidence having caused his Honour, Judge -Warrington, to discharge you "without a stain upon your character." We -beg to tender you this address, signed by the principal inhabitants of -this town and district, and to beg your acceptance of the purse of -sovereigns which I now hand to you.' - -Bill's self-possession failed him under this ordeal, and he nearly -dropped the purse, which contained fifty sovereigns. Jenny had put her -head down between her hands. This seemed to suggest to Bill that -somebody was wanted to represent the family. So turning, so as to have a -view of the assembled neighbours, as well as the Chairman, he managed to -get out with: - -'Mr. Chairman, ladies and gentlemen,—I'm no hand at a speech, as perhaps -most of you know. I did make a try in the woolshed at Tandara just -before the Shearers' War bust upon us. I don't deny as I might have come -on a bit, with practice; might have been promoted as high as to be a -Union Delegate—(laughter)—but bein' among the prisoners of war, when the -naval battle of the Darling River took place, I was "blocked in my -career," as the sayin' is. I found myself in gaol pretty soon after, -when it was explained to me, for the first (and, I hope, the last) time, -what steel bracelets were like. The next place where I had to talk was -in the dock, when I made a speech with only two words in it. They was -"Not Guilty." (Cheers.) I'm in for a longer one now, and then I'll shut -up for good, and never want to hear another sham-shearer talk rot, or -hear the gag about Unionism again, as long as I live. _I_ don't join -another one, no fear! (Cheers.) And now, I just want you to believe, all -my old friends as have turned up to stand by us in this handsome way, -and Mr. Thornhill, the Chairman (and if all squatters were like him -there'd never have been a strike, or the thought of one), I hope you'll -believe that Jenny and I feel your kindness to the very bottom of our -hearts, and that we shall remember it to our dying day.' Here the -cheering burst forth; stopped and began again, until one would have -thought it never would have ended. - -By this time, however, tables had been covered with an array of bottles -of wine and beer, and certain viands in the shape of sandwiches, -tongues, hams, rounds of beef, biscuits, and cakes of various hue and -shape—all things necessary for a cold but generous collation. The corks -being drawn, the sound wine and beer of the country was set flowing, -when Bill's health and Jenny's were drunk with great heartiness and -fervour. - -The Chairman then proposed—'His friend Mr. Calthorpe, in fact, the -friend of all present, as the gentleman who, by equipping Richard -Donahue and sending him to find and notice witnesses for the defence, -had done yeoman's service for the worthy pair they had met to honour -that day.' - -In the course of an effective speech in return for the toast of his -health, which was enthusiastically honoured, Mr. Calthorpe stated that -the directors of the bank which he had the honour to serve always -supported their officers in any extra-commercial action—as he might call -it—in favour of honourable constituents, such as William Hardwick and -his wife. He might take this opportunity to inform them that a -partnership was in train, and would probably be arranged under the style -of 'Hardwick and Donahue,' as these worthy yeomen had decided to join -their selections, indeed to take up additional, conditional leases and -devote themselves to dairy-farming on a large scale. They hoped to -secure a share of the profits of butter-making which were attracting so -much attention in their district of Talmorah, for which the soil, -climate, and pasture were so eminently adapted. He might inform them -that he had applications in the names of each of the partners, for nine -hundred and sixty acres of conditional leasehold. This, with the -original selections, would form an area of two thousand five hundred and -sixty acres. They would agree with him, a tidy grazing-farm on which to -commence the dairying business! Furthermore, he would take this -opportunity of stating that there was every prospect of a butter-factory -being established in Talmorah within twelve months. He trusted that the -new firm's enterprise would inaugurate, in that method, one of the most -profitable labour-employing industries, by which our graziers, big and -little, have ever benefited themselves and advanced the interests of the -town and district at large.' (Tremendous cheering.) - -When the applause had subsided, the prospective partners lost no time in -getting off, Jenny being aware that all conversation after such -proceedings was liable to conclude with the 'What'll you have?' -query—one of the wiles of the 'insidious foe.' Bill confessed to two or -three 'long-sleevers,' the day being warm and the lager beer cool; but -Dick Donahue, who had 'sworn off' before the priest for two years, -before he went down the Darling, had touched nothing stronger than tea. -Upon reaching their homes, the whole four resumed their working clothes -and busied themselves about the farms until sundown. 'We'll sleep better -to-night, anyhow,' said Jenny as, after putting the children to bed, she -sat by Bill while he had his after-supper smoke in the verandah. 'But we -must be up at daylight; it will give us all we know to get the cows -milked and breakfast over and clean things on, for church in the -township. For we'll go _there_, Bill, as we've good right to do, after -all that's come and gone—won't we?' - -'Right you are, Jenny; seems as if we'd been took care of, somehow.' - -So the old mare missed _her_ Sunday holiday, and had to trot into -Talmorah between the shafts of the light American waggon—the capital -all-round vehicle, that in the bush answers so many different purposes; -and the Donahues went to their chapel, where, no doubt, Father Flanagan -congratulated them on their improved prospects, while admonishing Dick -to be more regular in his 'duty' for the future. - -From this time forward the fortunes of the firm of Hardwick and Donahue -steadily improved and prospered. The wives and husbands were eminently -suited for co-operative farm management. - -Biddy could milk a third more cows in the morning than any other woman -in the district, and had won more than one prize for butter at the -Agricultural and Pastoral Show. Jenny was not far behind her in these -industries, but in the curing of bacon and hams had rather the best of -it, by the popular vote. Dick was the smarter man of the two, having, -moreover, a gift of persuasive eloquence, which served the firm well in -buying and selling stock; this department having been allotted to him. -He was thus able to get the change and adventure which his soul loved, -and as he stuck manfully to his pledge, he wasted no time, as formerly, -in his attendance upon shows and auction sales. - -He began to be looked up to as a solid, thriving grazier, and with hope -before him, and increased comfort in his home and family, pressed -forward with energy to the goal of success which he saw awaiting him. -His children were well fed, well clothed, and well schooled, holding up -their heads with the best of the other yeoman families. - -Bill worked away with his old steadiness and perseverance, not envying -the change and occasional recreation which Mr. R. Donahue came in for. -'He had had enough of that sort of thing to last him for the rest of his -life. His home, with Jenny and the children [now an increasing flock], -was good enough for him,' he was heard to say. - -There was also a run of good seasons, which in Australia is summed up -and may be exhaustively described in one word _Rain_, with a large R by -all means. The grass was good; so were the crops; so were the prices of -butter, cheese, and milk. - -The factory at Talmorah was a substantial, well-equipped, scientific -institution, the monthly cash payments from which caused the hearts of -the storekeeper and the tradesmen of that rising township to sing for -joy. The only persons who discussed the change from 'the good old times' -with scant approval were the publicans, who observed that the farmers -sent the monthly cheque for milk to their account at the Banks of -Barataria or New Holland, and their orders by post to the tradespeople, -instead of 'going into town like men and stopping at the hotel for a -day,' whenever they sold a ton of potatoes or a load of wheat. - -From such modest commencements many of the most prosperous families in -New South Wales and Victoria have made their start in life. Such -families not infrequently hold the title-deeds of thousands of acres of -freehold land. Contented to live economically and to re-invest their -annual profits, they acquire large landed estates. As magistrates and -employers of labour their position year by year becomes one of greater -provincial importance and legislative influence. In physique, energy, -and intelligence their sons are an honour to their respective colonies, -and a valued addition to the loyal subjects of the British Empire—that -Empire, in whose cause they are, even as I write, sending the flower of -their youthful manhood to a far-off battlefield, holding it their -proudest privilege to fight shoulder to shoulder with the 'Soldiers of -the Queen.' - - - - - MORGAN THE BUSHRANGER - - AND OTHER STORIES - - - - - MORGAN THE BUSHRANGER - - -For several years the announcement 'I'm Morgan,' uttered in the drawling -monotone which characterises one section of Australian-born natives, -sufficed to ensure panic among ordinary travellers, and if it did not -cause 'the stoutest heart to quail' in the words of the old romancers, -was seldom heard without accelerated cardiac action. For the hearer then -became aware, if he had not earlier realised the fact, that he was in -the power of a merciless enemy of his kind—blood-stained, malignant, -capricious withal, desperate too, with the knowledge that the avenger of -blood was ever on his trail, that if taken alive the gallows was his -doom, beyond doubt or argument. A convicted felon, who had served his -sentence, he bore himself as one who had suffered wrongs and injustice -from society, which he repaid with usury. Patient and wary as the Red -Indian, he was ruthless in his hour of triumph as the 'wolf Apache' or -the cannibal Navajo exulting with a foe, helpless at the stake. - -An attempt has lately been made to rehabilitate the memory of this -arch-criminal, so long the scourge and terror of the great pastoral -districts lying between the Upper Murray and the Murrumbidgee rivers. We -are not disposed to deny that there were individuals not wholly -abandoned among the misguided outlaws who ravaged New South Wales in the -'sixties.' There was usually some rude generosity in their dealings with -victims. They encountered in fair fight, and bore no ill-will to the -police, who were paid to entrap and exterminate them. They were lenient -to the poorer travellers, and exhibited a kind of Robin Hood gallantry -on occasion. Among them were men who would have done honour to their -native land under happier auspices. For, with few exceptions, they were -sons of the soil. But Daniel Morgan differed from Gardiner, Hall, and -Gilbert, from the Clarkes and the Peisleys, from O'Malley and Vane, from -Bourke and Dunn. He differed as the wolf differs from the hound, the -carrion vulture from the eagle. His cunning on all occasions equalled -his malignity, his brutal cruelty, his lust for wanton bloodshed. Rarely -was it, after one of his carefully-planned surprises, when he swooped -down upon a defenceless station, that he abstained from injury to person -or property. - -He was skilful and persevering in discovering his 'enemies,' as he -called them,—a not too difficult task,—for he had abettors and -sympathisers, scoundrels who harboured and spied for him, as well as -those who, fearing the vengeance of an unscrupulous ruffian, dared not -refuse food or assistance. Those whom he suspected of giving information -to the police or providing them with horses when on his trail he never -forgave, often wreaking cruel vengeance on them when the opportunity -came. He would reconnoitre from the hill or thicket for days beforehand. -When the men of the household were absent or otherwise employed, he -would suddenly appear upon the scene, to revel in the terror he created; -certain to destroy valuable property, if indeed he did not imbrue his -hands in blood before he quitted the spot. - -It was, for the most part, his habit to 'work' as a solitary robber; he -rarely had a companion, although in the encounter with Mr. Baylis, the -Police Magistrate of Wagga Wagga, when that gentleman showed a noble -example by bravely attacking him in his lair, it is supposed that his -then companion was badly wounded. Mr. Baylis was shot through the body, -but that man was never seen alive again. The popular impression was that -Morgan killed him, so that he might not impede his flight or give -information. The tale may not be true, but it shows the quality of his -reputation. - -It seems wonderful that Morgan should have been so long permitted to run -the gauntlet of the police of two colonies. It may be doubted whether, -in the present efficient state of the New South Wales force, any -notorious outlaw would enjoy so protracted a 'reign,' as the provincial -phrase goes. He had great odds in his favour. A consummate horseman like -most of his class, a practical bushman and stock-rider, with a command -of scouts who knew every inch of the country, and could thread at -midnight every range and thicket between Marackat and the Billabong, -Piney Range and Narandera, it was no ordinary task to capture the wild -rider, who was met one day on the Upper Murray and the next morning -among the pine forests of Walbundree. Horses, of course, cost him -nothing. He had the pick of a score of studs, the surest information as -to pace and endurance. In a horse-breeding district every animal showing -more than ordinary speed or stoutness is known and watched by the -'duffing' fraternity, fellows who would cheerfully take to the road but -for fear of Jack Ketch. It may be imagined how easily the hackney -question is settled for a bushranger of name and fame, and what -advantages he has over ordinary police troopers in eluding pursuit. - -I was living on the Murrumbidgee during a portion of his career, in the -years 1864 to 1869. He was seen several times within twenty miles of my -station, and I have had more than one description from temporary -captives, of his appearance and demeanour. There is not an instance on -record of his having been taken by surprise, or viewed before he had -been employed in reconnoitring his antagonist. - -Some of his adventures were not wholly without an element of -humour—although the victim well knew that the turn of a straw might -change the intent, from robbery to murder. The late Mr. Alexander Burt, -manager of Tubbo and Yarrabee, was riding on the plains, at a distance -of ten or twelve miles from the head station, when a horseman emerged -from a belt of pines. He wore a poncho, but differed in no respect from -ordinary travellers. Without suspicion he rode towards the stranger. As -he approached and, bushman-like, scrutinised horse and man, he observed -the JP brand, and recognised the animal as one stolen from the station. -A tall, powerful Scot, Mr. Burt ranged alongside of the individual in -the poncho and reached over to collar him. At that moment a revolver -appeared from under the poncho, and a drawling voice uttered the words -'Keep back!' - -It was unsafe to try a rush, and the snake-like eye of the robber told -clearly that the least motion would be the signal for pulling the -trigger. - -'What's yer name?' queried the stranger. - -'My name is Burt.' - -'Then Burt—you get off—that—horse.' - -Being unarmed, he had no option but to dismount. - -'Give—me—the—bridle. So—you—tried—to—take—my—horse—did—yer? -I've—a—dashed—good—mind—to—shoot—yer. Now—yer—can—walk—home. -I'd—advise—yer—to—make—a—straight—track.' - -And with this parting injunction he rode slowly away, leading Mr. Burt's -horse, while that gentleman, cursing his hard fate, had to tramp a dozen -miles before relating the foregoing adventure. - -At another time he surprised the Yarrabee Station, 'bailing' Mr. Waugh -the overseer, Mr. Apps, and others of the employés of Mr. John Peter, -but beyond placing the JP brand in the fire, and swearing he would put -it on one of them, as a suitable memento, he did nothing dreadful. - -At Mr. Cochran's of Widgiewa, as also at Mr. M'Laurin's of Yarra Yarra, -preparations were openly made for his reception; yet, though he made -various threats of vengeance, he never appeared at either place. - -At Round Hill Station, near Germanton, he enacted one of his murderous -pranks. Suddenly appearing in the shed at shearing time, he terrorised -the assembled men, fired on, wounded and threatened the life of the -manager. After calling for spirits and compelling all to drink with him, -he turned to ride away, when, incensed by a careless remark, he wheeled -his horse and fired his revolver at the crowd. A bullet took effect in -the ankle of a young gentleman gaining shearing experience, breaking the -bone, and producing intense agony. Appearing to regret the occurrence, -Morgan suggested to another man to go for the doctor. Having started, -Morgan followed at a gallop, and overtaking him, said with an oath, -'You're not going for the doctor—you're going for the police.' With that -he shot the unfortunate young man through the body, who fell from his -horse mortally wounded. - -About the same time he was seen by Police Sergeant M'Ginnerty riding -near the Wagga Wagga road. Having no suspicion, he galloped alongside, -merely to see who he was. Without a moment's hesitation Morgan fired -_through his poncho_. The bullet was but too sure—it may be noted that -he rarely missed his aim—and the ill-fated officer fell to the ground in -the death agony. He coolly propped up the dying man in a sitting -posture, and there left him. - -When it is considered that he killed two police officers, besides -civilians, Chinamen, and others, and that he shot a police magistrate -through the body (inflicting a wound nearly fatal, the consequences of -which were suffered for years after), it will be admitted that he was -one of the most formidable outlaws that ever roamed the Australian -wilds. - -He is said to have encountered a pastoral tenant, of large possession, -whom he thus accosted— - -'I—hear—you've—been—pounding—the—Piney—boys'—horses—haven't—you?' - -The witness was understood to deny, or, at any rate, shade off the -unpopular act. - -'Piney Range,' near Walbundree, was understood to be at one time the -robber's headquarters. Here he was harboured in secret, and more -comfortably lodged than was guessed at by the public or the police. The -'boys' were a horse-and cattle-stealing band of rascals—now fortunately -dispersed—who generally made themselves useful by misleading the police, -as well as by giving him notice of hostile movements. Towards -subsidising them the spoils of honest men were partially devoted. - -But this did by no means satisfy the 'terrible cross-examiner.' - -'You look here now! If yer don't drop it, -the—very—next—time—I—come—over—I'll—shoot—yer. -For—the—matter—of—that—I—don't—know—whether—I—_won't—shoot—yer—now_.' - -And as the dull eyes fastened with deadly gaze upon the captive's -face—he looking meanwhile at the mouth of the levelled weapon, held in -the blood-stained hand of one who at any time would rather kill a man -than not—be sure Mr. Blank's feelings were far from enviable. - -To one of his victims he is reported to have said— - -'I—hear—you're—a—dashed—good—step-dancer. Now—let's—have—a—sample— -and—do—yer—bloomin'—best—or—yer—won't—never—shake—a—leg—no—more.' - -Fancy performing on the light fantastic before such a critic! - -A cheerful squatter (who told me the tale) was riding through his -paddocks one fine afternoon, in company with his family and a couple of -young friends of the 'colonial experience' persuasion. They were -driving—he riding a handsome blood filly. In advance of the buggy, he -was quietly pacing through the woodland—probably thinking how well the -filly was coming on in her walking, or that fat stock had touched their -highest quotation—when he was aware of a man sitting motionless on his -horse, under a tree. - -The tree was slightly off his line, and as he approached it the strange -horseman quietly rode towards him. He noted that he was haggard, and -dark-complexioned, with an immense bushy beard. His long, black hair -hung on his shoulders. His eyes, intensely black, were small and beady; -his air sullen and forbidding. He rode closely up to the pastoralist -without word or sign. Their knees had nearly touched when he drew a -revolver and pointed it at his breast, so quickly that there was hardly -time to realise the situation. - -'Which—way—are—yer—goin'?' - -'Only across the paddock,' was the answer. - -'You—come—back—with—me—to—that—buggy.' - -By making a slight detour, they came in front of the vehicle, the -occupants of which were perfectly unsuspicious of the strange company -into which the head of the house had fallen. - -Then he suddenly accosted them, levelling the revolver, commanding them -to stand, and directing the young gentleman who was driving to jump to -the ground. He was famed for his activity, it is said, but the spring -made on that occasion, at the bidding of Morgan, beat all former -records. The other young gentleman, though of limited colonial -experience, was not 'devoid of sense,' as he dropped two five-pound -notes from his pocket into a tussock of grass, whence they were -afterwards recovered. - -After relieving all of their watches and loose cash, the bushranger -asked the proprietor whether he had seen any police lately. - -'Yes, two had passed.' - -'And—you—fed—'em, I expect? I'm half—a—mind—to blow—the -bloomin'—wind—through—yer.' - -'What am I to do?' queried the perplexed landholder. 'I should feed you -if you came by. I can't deny them what I give to every one that passes.' - -'D'ye—know—who—I—am?' - -'I never met you before, but I can pretty well guess. I've never done -you any harm that I know of.' - -'It's—a—dashed—good—thing—yer—haven't. What's—that—comin'—along the -road?' - -'The mail coach.' - -'How—d'ye—know—that?' - -'Well, it comes by every day about this time, and of course I know it.' - -'Well—I'm—just—goin'—to—stick—it—up. Don't—yer—tell—no—one— -yer—saw—me—to-day—or—it'll—be—a—blamed—sight—worse—for—yer.' - -And with this precept and admonition the robber departed, to the -infinite relief of all concerned. In a few minutes they heard the pistol -shot with which he 'brought-to' the mail-coach. - -'Blest if I seen a speck of him till he fired the revolver just over my -head,' said the driver afterwards. 'I was that startled I wonder I -didn't fall off the box.' - -No harm was done on that occasion, save to Her Majesty's mails, and the -correspondence of the lieges. My informant gathered up the strewed -parcels and torn sheets into a large sack next morning, and forwarded -them to the nearest post-office. - -In Morgan's whole career there is not recorded one instance of even the -spurious generosity which, if it did not redeem, relieved the darkness -of other criminal careers. He had apparently not even the craving for -companionship, which makes it a necessity with the ordinary brigand to -have a 'mate' towards whom, at any rate, he is popularly supposed to -exhibit that fidelity which he has forsworn towards his kind. Rarely is -it known that Morgan pursued his depredations in concert with any one. -He may have had confederates, harbourers he must have had, but not -comrades. - -He was never known to show mercy or kindness towards women. When they -were present at any of his raids, he seems either to have refrained from -noticing them or to have derided their fears. There is no record of his -having suffered their entreaties to prevail, or to have ceased from -violence and outrage at their bidding. - -Subtle, savage, and solitary as those beasts of prey which have learned -to prefer human flesh, and once having tasted to renounce all other, -Morgan lurked amid the wilds, which he had made his home, ever ready for -ruffianism or bloodshed—a fiend incarnate—permitted to carry terror and -outrage into peaceful homes, until his appointed hour of doom. This was -the manner of it. - - - MORGAN'S DEATH, TOLD BY THE MANAGER. - -Peechelbah Station, on the Murray, was a big scattered place, a regular -small town. There was the owner's house—a comfortable bungalow, with a -verandah all round. He and his family had just come up from town. My -cottage was half a mile away. I was the Manager, and could ride or drive -from daylight to midnight, or indeed fight, on a pinch, with any man on -that side of the country. I was to have gone up to the 'big house' to -have spent the evening. But it came on to rain, so I did not go, which -was just as well, as matters turned out. - -I was writing in my dining-room about nine o'clock when a servant girl -from the house came rushing in. 'What's the matter, Mary?' I said, as -soon as I saw her face. 'Morgan's stuck up the place,' she half -whispered, 'and he's in the house now. He won't let any one leave the -room; swore he'd shoot them if they did. But I thought I'd creep out and -let you know.' - -'You're a good lass,' I said, 'and have done a good night's work, if you -never did another. Now, you get back and don't let on you've been away -from your cups and saucers. How does he shape?' - -'Oh, pretty quiet. Says he won't harm nobody. They're all sitting on the -sofa, and he's got his pistols on the table before him.' And back she -went. - -Here was a pretty kettle of fish! Many things had to be done, so I -pulled myself together, and set about to study the proper place for the -battle. It was no use trying to rush the house. There were a lot of -hands at work on the place and in the men's huts. But in those days you -couldn't be sure of half of them. I had a few confidential chaps about, -and I intended to trust entirely to them and myself. I was a good man in -those days, as I said before. - -But here was Morgan in possession—one of the most desperate, -bloodthirsty bushrangers that had ever 'turned out' in New South Wales -or Victoria. Nothing was surer than, if we made an attempt to besiege -the house, he would at once shoot Mr. M'Pherson, and his partner Mr. -Telford, who happened to be there with him. - -So I had to be politic or all would go wrong. - -I first thought of the money. For a wonder I had four hundred pounds, in -notes, in my desk. I had got them from the bank to buy land, which was -to be sold that week. I didn't often do anything so foolish, you may -believe, as to keep forty ten-pound notes in a desk. - -The next thing, of course, was to 'plant' it. I made it into a parcel, -and taking it over to the creek, hid it under the overhanging root of a -tree, in a place that Mr. Morgan, unless he was a thought-reader, like -the man we had staying here the other night, would not be likely to -find. - -This done, I sent my body-servant down to the men's hut, to tell them -all to come up to my place—that I wanted to give them a glass of grog. -Grog, of course, is never allowed to be kept on a station by any one but -the proprietor or manager. But I used to give them a treat now and then, -so they didn't think it unusual. - -I mustered them in my big room and saw they were all there. Every man -had his glass of whisky, as I had promised. Then I said: 'Men! There's a -d—d fellow here to-night that you've often heard of—perhaps seen. His -name's _Morgan_! He's stuck up the big house, with Mr. and Mrs. -M'Pherson and the family. Now, listen to me. The police will be up -directly. I intend to surround the house. But I don't want any of you -fellows to run into danger, d'ye see? It's my order—mind that—that you -all stop in here, till you have the word to come out. Antonio!' I -said—he had been with me for ten years and was a determined fellow; a -sailor from the Spanish main, half-Spanish, half-English, and afraid of -nothing in the world—'Antonio, you stand near the door. My orders are -that _no one_ leaves this room to-night till I tell him. The first man -that tries to do so, shoot him, and ask no questions.' - -'By ——! I will,' says Antonio, showing his white teeth and a navy -revolver. - -The men looked queer at this; but they knew Antonio, and they knew me. -They had had a glass of grog, besides, and I promised them another by -and by. This pacified them; so they brought out some cards and set to at -euchre and all-fours. They were safe. I had made up my mind what to do. -I never intended Morgan to leave the place alive. I had sent off for the -police, and among the men I could trust was a smart fellow named -Quinlan, a dead shot and a steady, determined man. He had several times -said what a shame it was that a fellow like Morgan should go about -terrorising the whole country, and what fools and cowards people were to -suffer it. He had his own gun and ammunition, and, when I told him, said -he wanted nothing better than to have a slap at him. - -We weren't so well off for firearms as we might have been, for I had hid -a lot of loaded guns in an empty hut, ready to get hold of in case of -sudden need. Confound it, if some of the boys hadn't taken them out the -day before to go duck-shooting with. However, we rummaged up enough to -arm the picked men, and kept watch. - -It was a long, long night, but we were so excited and anxious that no -one felt weary, much less inclined to sleep. Mr. Telford was in the -house with Mr. M'Pherson, and he chaffed Morgan (they told me -afterwards) about having his revolvers out in the presence of ladies. -However, he couldn't get him to put them away. He was always most -suspicious. Never gave a man a chance to close with him. He was -well-behaved and civil enough in the house, and, I believe, only wished -one of the young ladies to play him a tune or two on the piano. He drank -spirits sparingly, and always used to call for an unopened bottle. He -was afraid of being poisoned or drugged. Some of his _friends_ wouldn't -have minded much about that even, as there was a thousand pounds reward -for his capture, alive or dead. I have good reason for thinking, -however, that one or two of the 'knockabouts' would have given him 'the -office,' if we hadn't got them all under hatches, as it were. - -Daylight came at last. I've had many a night watching cattle in cold and -wet, but none that I was so anxious to end as that. Of course I knew our -man wouldn't stop till sunrise. He was too careful, and never took any -risks that he could help. - -And at last, by George! out he came, and walked down towards the yard -where his horse was. I had pretty well considered the line he was likely -to take, and was lying down, the men on each side of me, as it happened. -But, cunning to the last, he made M'Pherson and Telford come out with -him, one on each side, not above a yard away from him. As he passed by -us we couldn't have fired without a good chance of shooting one of the -other two. So we let him pass—pretty close too. However, when he'd -passed Quinlan, the track turned at an angle, which brought him -broadside on; it wasn't to say a very long shot, nor yet a very close -one. It was a risk, too, for of course if he had been missed, the first -thing he'd have done would have been to have shot M'Pherson and Telford -before any one could have stopped him. But Quinlan had a fair show as he -thought, and let drive, without bothering about too many things at once. -That shot settled the business for good and all. His bullet struck -Morgan between the shoulders and passed out near his chin. He fell, -mortally wounded. In an instant he was rushed and his revolvers taken -from him. He lay helpless; the spine had been touched, and he was -writhing in his death agony, as better men had done before from his -pistol. - -The first thing he said was, 'You might have sent a fellow a challenge.' -One of the men called out, 'When did you ever do it, you murdering dog?' -He never spoke after that, and lived less than two hours. - -The police didn't come up in time to do anything; no doubt they would -have been ready to help in preventing his escape. But I was only too -glad the thing had ended as it did. The news soon got abroad that this -man—who had kept the border stations of two colonies in fear and -trembling, so to speak, for years—was lying dead at Peechelbah. Before -night there were best part of two hundred people on the place. I can't -say exactly how much whisky they drank, but the station supply ran out -before dark, and it was no foolish one either. 'All's well that ends -well,' they say. We've had nobody since who's been such a 'terror' to -settlers and travellers. But I don't want to go through such a time -again as the night of Morgan's death. - - - - - HOW I BECAME A BUTCHER - - -I was wending my way to Melbourne with a draft of fat cattle in the -spring of 1851, when the public-house talk took the unwonted flavour of -gold. Gold had 'broken out,' as it was expressed, at a creek a few miles -from Buninyong. Gold in lumps! Gold in bushels! All the world was there, -except those who were on the road or packing up. A couple of hundred -head of fat cattle were not, perhaps, the exact sort of impedimenta to -go exploring with on a goldfield, but it was hard to stem the tidal -wave, now rolling in unbroken line towards Ballarat. Men agreed that -this was the strange new name of the strange new treasure-hold. I -incontinently pined for Ballarat. I sold one-half of my drove by the -way, purchased a few articles suitable for certain contingencies, and -joined the procession; for it was a procession, a caravan, almost a -crusade. - -The weather had been wet. The roads were deep. Heavy showers, fierce -gales, driving sleet made the spring days gloomy, and multiplied delays -and disasters. None of these obstacles stayed the ardent pilgrims, whose -faith in their golden goal was daily confirmed, stimulated ever by wild -reports of luck. The variety of the wayfarers who thronged that highway, -broad as the path to destruction, was striking. Sun-tanned bushmen, -inured to toil, practised in emergencies, alternated with groups of -townspeople, whose fresh complexions and awkward dealings with their new -experience stamped them as recruits. Passengers, who had left shipboard -but a week since, armed to the teeth, expectant of evil. Mercantile -Jack, whose rolling gait and careless energy displayed his calling as -clearly as if the name of his ship had been tattooed on his forehead. -Other persons whose erect appearance and regular step hinted at -pipe-clay. Carts with horses, ponies, mules, donkeys, even men and -women, in their shafts. Bullock drays, heavily laden, in which the long -teams at fullest stretch of strength were fairly cursed through the -slough, to which the army column ahead and around had reduced the road. -Bells! bells! bells! everywhere and of every note and inflexion, -dog-trucks, wheel-barrows, horsemen, footmen, lent their aid to the -extraordinary _mélange_ of sights and sounds, mobilised _en route_ for -Ballarat. - -Slowly, 'with painful patience,' as became experienced drovers, we -skirted or traversed the pilgrim host. We drove far into the night, -until we reached a sequestered camp. A few days of uneventful travelling -brought us to the Buninyong Inn. This modest hostelry, amply sufficient -for the ordinary traffic of the road, was now filled and overflowed by -the roaring flood of wayfarers. The hostess, in daily receipt of profits -which a month had not formerly accumulated, was civil but indifferent. -'I _might_ get supper,' she dared say, 'but could not guarantee that -meal. Her servants were worked off their legs. She wished indeed that -there was another inn; she was tired to death of having to provide for -such a mob.' - -When I heard a licensed victualler giving vent to this unnatural wish, -as I could not but regard it, I recognised the case as desperate, and -capitulated. I managed to procure a meal in due time, and mingled with -the crowd in hope of gaining the information of which I stood in need. -My assistants were a white man and a black boy. The former was a small, -wiry Englishman, formerly connected with a training stable. He called -himself Ben Brace, after a famous steeplechaser which he had trained or -strapped. Hard-bitten, hard-reared, mostly on straw and ashplant, as -goes the nature of English stable-lads, to Ben early hours or late, foul -weather or fair, fasting or feasting were much alike. Of course he -drank, but he had enough of the results of the old stable discipline -left to restrain himself until after the race was run. I had therefore -no feeling of apprehension about his fidelity. - -For the time was an exciting one, and had not been without its effects -upon all hired labour, though things had not developed in that respect -as fully as when a year's success had made gold as common as shells on -the seashore. Then, indeed, by no rate of wages could you ensure the -effective discharge of the indispensable duties of the road. When every -passing traveller who spoke to your stock-riders, or requested a light -for a pipe, had nuggets of gold in his pocket, 'or knowed a party as -bottomed last week to the tune of £1200 a man,' it was small wonder -that, valuable as their services were conceded to be, they should -themselves deem them to be invaluable. Independent, insolent, and -ridiculously sensitive as drovers became, it became an undertaking -perilous and uncertain in the extreme to drive stock to market. - -I have seen the only man (beside the proprietor) in charge of three -hundred head of fat cattle confronting that sorely-tried squatter, with -vinous gravity and sarcastic defiance, as thus—'You s'pose I'm a-goin' -to stay out and watch these —— cattle while you're a-sittin' in the -public-house eatin' your arrowroot? No. I ain't the cattle dorg. I'm a -man! as good as ever you was, and you can go and drive your bloomin' -cattle yerself.' - -This fellow was in receipt of one pound per diem; his allegations were -totally unfounded, as his master had done nearly all the work, and would -have done the remainder had the instincts of a large drove of wild -cattle permitted. I saw my friend's grey eyes glitter dangerously for a -moment as he looked the provoking ruffian full in the face, and advanced -a step; then the helplessness of his position smote him, and he made a -degradingly civil answer. - -I was fortunate in not being likely to be reduced to such destitution. -Besides Ben, the black boy Charley Bamber was at exactly the right age -to be useful. Of him I felt secure. He was a small imp whom I had once -brought away from his tribe in a distant part of the country and essayed -to educate and civilise. The education had progressed as far as -tolerable reading and writing, a perfect mastery of that 'vulgar tongue' -so extensively heard in the waste places of the earth, joined with a -ready acquaintance with the Bible and the Church Catechism. He would -have taken honours in any Sunday School in Britain. The civilisation, I -am bound to admit, was imperfect and problematical. - -But the son of the forest was quick of eye, a sure tracker, and the -possessor of a kind of mariner's compass instinct which enabled him to -find his way through any country, known or unknown, with ease and -precision. He was a first-rate hand with all manner of cattle and -horses, when freed from that unexorcised demon, his temper. It was -simply fiendish. Bread and butter, shoes and stockings, the language of -England and the language of kindness, had left that inheritance -untouched. In his paroxysms he would throw himself upon the earth and -saw away at his throat with his knife. This instrument being generally -blunt, he never succeeded in severing the carotid artery. But he often -looked with glaring eyes and distorted features, as if he would have -liked in this manner to have settled the vexed question of his creation. -Strange as it may appear, the incongruity of his knowledge with his -tendencies was to him a matter of wrathful regret. Being reproached one -day for bad conduct by the lady to whose untiring lessons he owed his -knowledge, he exclaimed, 'I wish you'd never taught me at all. Once, I -didn't know I was wicked; now I do, and I'm miserable.' The pony which -he always rode, a clever, self-willed scamp like himself, once took him -under the branches of a low-growing tree, scratching his face in the -process. Lifting the tomahawk which he generally carried, he drove it -into the withers of the poor animal. On reaching home he confessed -frankly enough, as was his custom, and appeared grieved and penitent. He -was sorry enough afterwards, for the fistula which supervened -necessitated a tedious washing every morning with soap and water for -twelve months. This attention fell to his lot with strict retributive -justice, and before a cure was effected he had ample leisure to deplore -his rashness. With all his faults he could be most useful when he liked. -He was so clever that I could not help feeling a deep interest in him, -and during the expedition which I describe he was unusually -well-behaved. - -Having put the cattle into a secure yard, and seen my retainers -comfortably fed and housed, I betook myself to the coffee-room. This -apartment was crowded with persons just about to visit, or on their -return from visiting, the Wonder of the Age. The conversation was -general and unreserved. I was amused at the usual conflict of opinion -with regard to the duration, demerits, and destiny of the Australian -goldfields. - -The elderly and conservative colonists took a depressing view of this -new-born irruption of bullion. 'It tended to the confusion of social -ranks, to the termination of existing relations between shepherds and -squatters, to democracy, demoralisation, and decay. Had other nations, -the Spaniards notably, not found the possession of gold-mines in their -American colonies a curse rather than a blessing? Would not the standard -value of gold coin be reduced? Would not landed property be depreciated, -agriculture perish, labour become a tradition, and this fair land be -left a prey to ruffianly gold-seekers and unprincipled adventurers? The -opposition, composed of the younger men, the 'party of progress,' with a -few democrats _enragés_, scoffed at the words of wary commerce or timid -capital. 'This was an Anglo-Saxon community. Capacity for -self-government had ever been the proud heritage of the race. We had -that sober reasoning power, energy, and innate reverence for law which -enabled us to successfully administer republics, goldfields, and other -complications fatal to weaker families of men. With such a people -abundance of gold was not more undesirable than abundance of wheat. Glut -of gold! Well, there were many ways of disposing of it. Civilisation -developed the need for coin nearly as fast as it was supplied. A -sovereign would be a sovereign most likely for our time. Land! The land -of course would be sold, cut up into farms for industrious yeomen, and -high time too.' - -The destiny of our infant nation was not finally settled when I slipped -out. I had mastered two facts, however, which were to me at that time -more immediately interesting than the rise of nations and the fall of -gold. These were the increasing yields at Ballarat, and that, as yet, -the diggers were living wholly on mutton, of which they were excessively -tired. - -Long before daylight we were feeding our horses and taking a meal, so -precautionary in its nature that (more especially in Charley's case) the -question of dinner might safely be entrusted to the future. With just -light enough to distinguish the white-stemmed gums which stood ghostly -in the chill dawn, we left the sleeping herd of prospectors and -politicians and prepared for a day of doubt and adventure. - -Silent and cold, we stumbled and jogged along, something after the -fashion of Lord Scamperdale going to meet the hounds in the next county, -for an hour or two. Then the sun began to cheer the sodden landscape, -the birds chirped, the cattle put their heads down, life's mercury rose. - -We had reached the historic Yuille's Creek, upon the bank of which the -great gold city now stands. Then it was like any other 'wash-up creek'—a -mimic river in winter, a chain of muddy water-holes in summer. As I -looked at the eager waters, yellow with the clay in solution, as if the -great metal had lent the wave its own hue, I felt like Sinbad -approaching the valley of diamonds, and almost expected to break my -shins against lumps of gold and silver. I determined to advance and -reconnoitre; so, leaving Ben and Charley to feed and cherish the cattle -until my return, I put spurs to old Hope, and headed up the water at a -more cheerful pace than we had known since daylight. I turned the spur -of a ridge which came low upon the meadows of the streamlet. I heard a -confused murmuring sound, the subdued 'voice of a vast congregation,' -combined with a noise as of a multitude of steam mills. I rounded the -cape, and, pulling up my horse, stared in wonder and excitement upon the -strange scene which burst in suddenness upon me. - -On a small meadow, and upon the slopes which rose gently from it, were -massed nearly twenty thousand men. They were, with few exceptions, -working more earnestly, more absorbingly, more silently than any body of -labourers I had ever seen. They were delving, carrying heavy loads, -filling and emptying buckets, washing the ore in thousands of cradles, -which occupied every yard and foot of the creek, in which men stood -waist-deep. Long streets and alleys of tents and shanties constituted a -kind of township, where flaunting flags of all colours denoted stores -and shops, and St. George's banner, hanging proudly unfurled, told that -the majesty of the law, order, and the government was administered by -Commissioners and supported by policemen. - -I rode among the toilers, amid whom I soon found friends and -acquaintances. On every side was evidence of the magical richness of the -deposit. Nuggets were handed about with a careless confidence which -denoted the easy circumstances of the owners. The famous 'Jeweller's -Point' was just yielding its 'untold gold,' and one sanguine individual -did not overstate the case when he assured me they were 'turning it up -like potatoes.' I ascertained that, with the exception of an occasional -quarter from an adjoining station, the grand army was ignorant of the -taste of beef, that mutton was beginning to be accounted monotonous -fare, and that he who reintroduced the diggers to steaks and sirloins -would be hailed as a benefactor and paid like a governor-general. - -Having ascertained that this society, in which no trade was -unrepresented, contained several butchers, I presented myself to these -distributors, my natural enemies. I found that the abnormal conditions -among which we moved had by no means lessened our antagonism. We did -battle as of old. They decried the quality of my cattle, and affected to -ignore the popular necessity for beef. Thinking that I was compelled to -accept their ruling, they declined to buy except at a low price. I -retired full of wrath and resolve. - -Had I come these many leagues to be a prey to shallow greed and cunning? -Not so, by St. Hubert! Sooner than take so miserable a price for my -weary days and watchful nights, I would turn butcher myself. Ha! happy -thought! Why not? There was no moral declension in becoming a butcher, -at least temporarily; all one's morale here was _bouleversé_. 'Tis done. -'I will turn the flank of these knaves. Henceforth I also am a butcher. -Chops and steaks! No! steaks only! Families supplied. Ha! ha!' - -I returned to the cattle, which I found much refreshed by the creek -side. We drove them to the bank of the great Wendouree Lake, then a -shallow, reedy marsh, made a brush yard, established ourselves in the -lee of a huge fallen gum, and passed cheerfully enough our first night -at Ballarat. - -Next morning I commenced the campaign of competition with decision. I -gave Charley a lecture of considerable length upon his general -deportment, and the particular duties which had now devolved upon him. -He was to look after or 'tail' the cattle daily by the side of the lake; -to abstain from opossum hunts and other snares of the evil one; to look -out that wicked men, of whom this place was choke-full, did not steal -the cattle; to rest his pony, Jackdaw, whenever he could safely; and -always to bring his cattle home at sundown. If he did all these things, -and was generally a good boy, I would give him a cow, from the profit of -whose progeny he would very likely become a rich man, when we got back -to Squattlesea Mere. He promised to abandon all his sins on the spot. As -the cattle stood patiently expectant by the rails, I sent a bullet into -the 'curl' of the forehead of a big rough bullock. The rest of the drove -moved out with small excitement, and the first act was over. - -We flayed and quartered our bullock 'upon the hide,' a 'gallows' being a -luxury to which, like uncivilised nations, we had not attained. - -I chose a location for a shop in a central position among the tented -streets, being chiefly attracted thereto by a large stump, which was -a—ahem—butcher's block ready made, divided our animal into more -available portions, and with modest confidence awaited 'a share of the -public patronage.' - -At first trade was slack—the sun became powerful—the flies arrived in -myriads—a slight reactionary despondency set in—when lo! a customer, a -bronzed and bearded digger. I think I see his jolly face now. 'Hullo, -mate! got some beef? Blowed if I didn't think all the cattle was dead! -We're that tired of mutton—well, I ain't got much time to stand yarnin'. -Give us a bit now, though. Thirty pound—that'll do. Here's a sov'ring. -Good-bye.' - -Myself.—'Tell the other fellows, will you?' - -'All right. Won't want much tellin',' shouted my friend, far on his way. - -My soul was comforted. It was the turn of the tide. Another and another -came who lusted for the muscle-forming food. Towards evening the news -was general that there was 'beef in Ballarat.' The tide flowed and rose -until the last ounce of the brindled bullock had vanished, and I was -left the owner of a bag of coin weighty and imposing as the purse of a -Cadi. - -'My word, sir, we'll have to kill two to-morrow,' quoth Ben, 'if this -goes on; and however shall we manage to cut 'em up and sell too?' - -'Well, we'll see,' said I confidently; 'something will turn up.' - -As we returned to our depôt by Wendouree, we met by the wayside a -middle-aged man sitting on a log in a despondent mood. He was the only -man I had yet seen at Ballarat who was not full of hope and energy. I -was curious enough to disturb his reverie. - -'What's the matter?' said I. 'Have you lost your horse, or your wife, or -has the bottom of your claim tumbled out, that you look so down on your -luck?' - -'Well, master, it ain't quite so bad as all that, but it isn't so easy -to get on here without money or work, and I was just a-thinkin' about -going back to Geelong.' - -'I should have thought every one could have got work here, by the look -of things.' - -'Well, a many do, but I am not much with pick and shovel. I'm gettin' -old now, and I can't a-bear cookin'. Now, I was as comfortable as could -be in Geelong, a-workin' steady at my trade. I was just a-thinkin' what -a fool I was to come away, surelye!' - -'What is your trade?' - -'Well, master, I'm a butcher!' - -There _must_ be good angels. One doubts sometimes. But how otherwise -could this man, an unimaginative Englishman, lately arrived, not easy of -adaptation to strange surroundings, have been conveyed to this precise -spot, _planté là_, that I might stumble against him in my need? I could -have clasped him in my arms. - -But I said, with assumed indifference, 'Well, I want a man for a week or -two to do slaughtering. You can have five shillings a day, and come home -with us now, if you like.' - -'Thank ye, master, that I'll do, and main thankful I be.' - -When we reached the fallen tree, which, like a South Sea cocoa-palm, -supplied nearly all our wants (being fuel, fireplace, house, furniture, -and one side of our stock-yard), the cattle were in, the camp kettle was -boiling, and Charley, standing proudly by the fire, received my -congratulations. Our professional comforted himself internally. We -regarded the past with satisfaction and the future with hope, and were -soon restoring our taxed energies with unbroken slumber. - -Next day we slew two kine, ably assisted by our new man, who, however, -looked rather blank at the absence of so many trade accessories. Our -bough-constructed 'shop' on the flat became a place of fashionable -resort, and the conversion of cows into coin became easy and methodical. -Having real work to do, I donned suitable garments, and as I stood forth -in blue serge and jack-boots, wielding my blood-stained axe or gory -knife, few of the busy diggers doubted my having been bred to the craft. -One or two jokes sprang from this slight misapprehension. - -'Ah! if you was at 'ome now, and 'ad yer big cleaver, yer'd knock it off -smarter, wouldn't yer now?' This was a criticism upon my repeated -attempts to sever an obstinate bone with a gapped American axe. - -On the first day of my butcherhood I had bethought me of the cuisine of -my old friend the Commissioner, which I essayed to improve by the gift -of a sirloin. Placing the exotic in a gunny-bag, I rode up to the camp, -and said to the blue-coated warder, 'Take this joint of beef to Mr. -Sturt with my compliments.' I had no sooner completed the sentence than -I saw an expression upon the face of the man-at-arms which reminded me -of my condition in life. Gazing at me with supercilious surprise, he -called languidly to a brother gendarme, 'Jones, take this here to the -Commissioner with the _butcher's_ compliments!' For one moment I looked -'cells and contempt of court' at the obtuse myrmidon who failed to -recognize the disguised magistrate; but the humour of the incident -presenting itself, I burst into a fit of laughter which further -mystified him, and departed. - -I was now settled in business. I diverted a large share of the trade -previously monopolised by my rivals, who now bitterly regretted not -having disposed of me by purchase. Every night I went up to the -Government camp with my bag of coin, which I delivered over for safe -keeping. As many friends were located there, with them I generally spent -my evenings, which were of a joyous and sociable character. The -conditions were favourable. Most of us were young; we were all making -money tolerably fast, with the agreeable probability, for some time to -come, of making it even faster. - -The exodus from Melbourne was exhaustive. There, daily to be seen in red -shirt and thick but very neat boots, stood the handsome doctor of 'our -street' by the cradle, for which he had abandoned patients and practice. -Next to him, with constant care lowering the ever-recurring -shaft-bucket, was a rising barrister. Hotel servants, tradespeople, -farmers, market-gardeners, civilians, cab-drivers, barbers, even the -tragic and the comic muse, had enrolled themselves among the players at -this theatre, where the popular drama of 'Golden Hazard' was having a -run till further notice. The ranks of the 50th Regiment were thinned by -desertions in spite of the utmost vigilance; while the ships in the bay -were likely to be reduced to the condition of the world's fleet in -Campbell's _Last Man_. - -Pitiable the while was the position of the squatters, especially of -those who held sheep. On a cattle station the proprietor or manager, -with the assistance of a boy or two, can do much. It is not so with -sheep. Particularly was it not so in those pre-fencing days. In vain the -sheep-owner doubles his men's wages and removes apparent discontent. He -tries to think that matters will go on pretty well till shearing. One -night comes a traveller, a wretch with a bag of gold. Next morning a -shepherd is missing, and so on. - -We gave a little _festa_ one evening in honour of a friend who had sold -his share in the claim and wisely gone back to follow his profession in -town. The conversation had a philosophical turn, and it was debated -whether or no the country would come well out of the ordeal to which, -particularly on account of its uneducated classes, it was being -subjected. Some one expressed an opinion adverse to the result upon -national morality and progress. - -'I hold a directly opposite conviction,' said Jack Freshland. 'So do all -the men who, like me, have seen order produced from chaos in California. -"Scum of the universe" was a complimentary description of her -population. "Hell upon earth" was a weak metaphor explanatory of her -social state. Look at her now—self-regenerate, orderly, honestly -progressive in every phase of industry. I don't say that you run no -chance of being shot; accidents will happen when fellows' belts and coat -pockets are full of loaded revolvers, whisky being cheap. But you run -far less chance of being robbed than in London or Paris. When I came -away you might leave your valuables scattered about your tent for days. -No one dared to touch them. I don't know whether we shall come to -ear-marking pilferers and hanging horse-stealers, but this is an -Anglo-Saxon population, and in some way, I will stake my existence, -order will be preserved.' - -'Talking of horse-stealers, I found Fred Charbett's "Grey Surrey" the -other day,' said Moore O'Donnell, 'in rather queer company.' - -'That's the horse he won the Ladies' Bag at the Port Western Races -with,' I cried out eagerly, 'a tremendous mile horse, but no stayer. Had -he a large D brand?' - -'He had then; and a large S—if that stands for sore back—that ye could -see a mile off.' - -'He is a flat-ribbed horse,' I explained, 'and any one with a bad saddle -might give him a back in a day that a week couldn't cure. How glad old -Fred will be to see him again! Who is the ruffian that has him now?' - -'One Moore O'Donnell. Maybe ye wouldn't mind putting your interrogation -in another form, Mr. Boldrewood, if it's agreeable to ye?' - -'A thousand pardons, really—but I didn't understand that you had taken -possession of him.' - -We all laughed at this, and Jack Freshland said, 'Come, Moore, you old -humbug, tell us how you stole the poor fellow's horse. It's all very -well for Boldrewood to back you up with his alphabetical evidence. I -don't believe half of it. You'll be up before the beak if you don't -mind.' - -'Give me the laste drop of that whisky,' said O'Donnell, stretching his -long legs, 'and I'll tell you all how I compounded a felony, for there -is the laste flavour of _that_ about the transaction. I was mooning -about looking for old "Paleface," when, after a great walk, I came upon -the villain in company with a strange grey, also in hobbles. You know -what a hot brute mine is: the stranger was about the same. Neither would -dream of allowing me to catch him. So, after a long chase, I arrived at -home, exhausted and demoralised, with just sufficient strength left to -put them into the bullock yard. I refreshed myself from the whisky-jar, -and after lunch and a smoke, feeling better, I strolled out to look at -the grey. I thought we had been introduced. Of course, there he was, the -great Surrey, no less. The last time we met, I had seen a sheet pulled -off with pride by a neat groom, just before Fred took him down to the -races. Here he was, dog-poor, rough-coated, and with a back fit to make -one sick; D on the shoulder, 2B under the mane. Identification complete. -"Such is life," thought I. "Just as one's in fine hard condition, with -all the world before you, and lots of money and friends, you get stolen, -or come to grief, grass-feeding, and an incurable sore back!"' - -'Rather a mixed metaphor, if I may be allowed a friendly criticism,' -said a dark-haired, quiet youngster named Weston, who had been reading -for the bar 'before the gold,' as people distinguished the former and -the latter days. 'I don't quite follow who lost the money, or did you or -the horse suffer from the sore back?' - -'Go to blazes with your special pleading,' shouted O'Donnell. 'Can't a -man make the smallest moral reflection among ye, a lot of profligate -divils, but he must be fixed to logical exactness, as if he was up for -his "little go"? Ye've no poetry in ye, Weston, divil a bit. It's a -fatal defect at the bar. Take my advice in time, or I wash my hands of -your future prospects. And now hear me out, or I'll stop, and the secret -will be buried with me.' - -'Go on, Moore; you won't be the last of your line, will you?' - -'How do you know, sir? None of your Saxon sneers. The O'Donnell! Ha! ye -villain, I'm up to you this time. Next day, as big a ruffian as ever ye -seen came up to the tent and asked me "what I meant by stealin' a poor -man's 'oss." "See here now," says I, "the stealing's all the other way, -it strikes me. He belongs to a friend of mine, who would never have sold -him. He may have strayed and got into pound, and you may have bought him -out, or you may—pardon me—have stolen him yourself." - -'"I bought him off Jem Baggs, as got him out of Burnbank Pound," replied -he doggedly. - -'"That may be true. I think not, myself. This is what I am going to do. -The horse is in my possession, and there he will remain. You can either -take him, if you are man enough (and I pointed this remark with the butt -of my revolver), or you can summon me before the Bench, or take this £5 -note for your claim. Which will you do?" He held out his dirty paw for -the fiver with a grin, as he said, "All right, you can 'ave 'im for the -fiver. He ain't much in a cart, anyhow."' - -'Hurrah!' sung out half-a-dozen voices together. 'How glad old Fred will -be to see him again. What did you do with him? Hasn't Bill Sikes -re-stolen him yet?' - -'I sent him back by a stock-rider next day. He is safe at "The Gums" by -this time. I'm dry, though. You wouldn't think it, now! Pass the -whisky.' - -'I say,' said Maxwell, 'there's a feller which is a poet in this -company. Wasn't that a ballad, Aubrey, that you pulled out of your -pocket just now, among all those tailors' bills, or licences, or -whatever they were? Let's have it.' - -This was addressed to a fair-haired youngster who was arguing with great -interest and eagerness the relative fattening merits of shorthorns and -Herefords. - -'Well, it's something in the scribbling line. If you want it, you must -read it though; I'll be hanged if I will. Writing it has been quite -bother enough.' - -'Well,' said Maxwell, 'it's not every fellow who can read, or spell -either, for the matter of that. I'll read it myself, sir; perhaps you -may find the effect heightened. Now listen, you fellows; a little -sentiment won't do none of us any harm. What's it called? H—m! - - - A VISION OF GOLD - - 'I see a lone stream rolling down - Through valleys green, by ridges brown, - Of hills that bear no name; - The dawn's full blush in crimson flakes - Is traced on palest blue, as breaks - The morn in orient flame. - - 'I see—whence comes that eager gaze? - Why rein the steed in wild amaze? - The water's hue is gold; - Golden its wavelets foam and glide - Through tenderest green—to ocean-tide - The fairy streamlet rolled. - - 'Forward, Hope, forward! truest steed, - Of tireless hoof and desert speed, - Up the weird water bound, - Till echoing far and sounding deep, - I hear old Ocean's hoarse voice sweep - O'er this enchanted ground. - - 'The sea! Wild fancy! Many a mile - Of changeful Nature's frown and smile, - Ere stand we on the shore; - And yet that murmur, hoarse and deep, - None save the ocean surges keep— - It is the cradles' roar! - - 'Onward! I pass the grassy hill - Around whose base the waters still - Shimmer in golden foam, - Oh! wanderer of the voiceless wild, - Of this far southern land the child, - How changed thy quiet home! - - 'For, close as bees in countless hive, - Like emmet-hosts that tireless strive, - Swarmed, toiled, a vast strange crowd; - Haggard each face's features seem, - Bright, fever-bright, each eye's wild gleam; - Nor cry, nor accent loud. - - 'But each man delved, or rocked, or bore - As if salvation with the ore - Of the mine-monarch lay; - Gold strung each arm to giant might, - Gold flashed before the aching sight, - Gold turned the night to day. - - 'Where Eblis reigns o'er boundless gloom, - And in his halls of endless doom - Lost souls for ever roam, - They wander (says the Eastern tale), - Nor ever startles moan or wail - Despair's eternal home. - - 'Less silent scarce than that pale host, - They toiled as if each moment lost - Were the red life-drop spilt; - While heavy, rough, and darkly bright, - In every shape rolled to the light - Man's hope, and pride, and guilt. - - 'All ranks, all ages, every land - Had sent her conscripts forth to stand - In the gold-seekers' rank; - The bushman, bronzed, with sinewy limb, - The pale-faced son of trade, e'en him - Who knew the fetters' clank. - - * * * * * - - ''Tis night; her jewelled mantle fills - The busy valley, the dun hills, - 'Tis a battle-host's repose; - A thousand watch-fires redly gleam, - Where ceaseless fusillades would seem - To warn approaching foes. - - 'The night is older. On the sward - Stretched, I behold the heavens broad - When, a Shape rises dim; - Then clearer, fuller, I descry - By the swart brow, the star-bright eye, - The gnome king's presence grim. - - 'He stands upon a time-worn block; - His dark form shrouds the snowy rock, - As cypress marble tomb; - Nor fierce, yet wild and sad his mien, - His cloud-black tresses wave and stream, - His deep tones break the gloom. - - '"Son of a tribe accurst, of those - Whose greed has broken our repose - Of the long ages dead; - Think not for naught our ancient race - Quit olden haunts, the sacred place - Of toils for ever fled. - - '"List while I tell of days to come, - When men shall wish the hammers dumb - That ring so ceaseless now— - That every arm were palsy-tied, - Nor ever wet on grey hillside - Was the gold-seeker's brow. - - '"I see the old world's human tide - Set southward on the Ocean wide, - I see a wood of masts; - While crime and want, disease and death, - By rolling wave and storm-wind's breath - Are on these fair shores cast. - - '"I see the murderer's barrel gleam, - I hear the victim's hopeless scream - Ring through these sylvan wastes: - While each base son of elder lands, - Each witless dastard, in vast bands, - To the gold city hastes. - - '"Disease shall claim her ready toll, - Flushed vice and brutal crime the dole - Of life shall ne'er deny; - Disease and death shall walk your streets, - While staggering idiocy greets - The horror-stricken eye! - - '"All men shall roll in the gold mire, - The height, the depth, of man's desire, - Till come the famine years; - Then all the land shall curse the day - When first they rifled the dull clay, - With deep remorseful tears. - - '"Fell want shall wake to fearful life - The fettered demons; civil strife - Rears high a gory hand; - I see a blood-splashed barricade, - While dimly lights the twilight glade - The soldier's flashing brand. - - '"But thou, son of the forest free! - Thou art not, wert not foe to me, - Frank tamer of the wild! - Thou hast not sought the sunless home - Where darkly delves the toiling gnome, - The mid-earth's swarthy child. - - '"Then be thou ever, as of yore, - A dweller in the woods and o'er - Fresh plains thy herds shall roam; - Join not the vain and reckless crowd, - Who swell the city's pageant proud, - But prize thy forest home." - - 'He said; and with an eldritch scream - The gnome king vanished, and my dream— - Day's waking hour returned. - Yet still the wild tones echoed clear, - Half chimed with truth in reason's ear, - And my heart inly burned!' - -'Well done, Maxwell, old fellow; didn't think you could read so well! I -haven't been asleep above two or three times. I enjoyed it awfully. -Particular down on us. Your underground friend, though, prophesies war, -famine, and mixed immigration! Cheerful cuss!' - -'Mr. Aubrey, will ye oblige me by coming before the curtain. It's proud -I am to know ye. I have seen worse, sir, let me tell ye, in the pages of -the _Dublin University Magazine_, where the name of Moore O'Donnell is -not entirely unknown. I would like to repate to ye a short ode of my own -on——' - -'Rush oh! at Cockfighter's Flat,' burst in a new -man—Markham—impetuously. 'That's all the talk now, my boys! They say the -gold's thicker than the wash, shallow sinking, and lots of water. -Jackson just told me; he's off there to-morrow to buy gold and go to -Melbourne with it. I'm away, then. Any of you chaps join me?' - -'I don't mind taking a look,' said Maxwell. 'I've half a mind to turn -gold-buyer myself. It's a paying game.' - -'It's an awfully risky one,' said Freshland. 'A man takes his life in -his hand once he's known to carry gold. I know a fellow who started from -here for Melbourne a fortnight since, and has never turned up.' - -'Perhaps he's bolted,' suggested a cynic. - -'Perhaps so,' answered Freshland carelessly; 'but if so, his wife, from -her looks, they tell me, is not in the secret. I'm afraid it's the old -story,' continued he, gazing mournfully into space. 'I know well how -it's done. I can see it all as I sit here. A fellow goes stepping along -the road through the Black Forest, whistling cheerfully and thinking of -the ounces he has in his belt, or of what has gone down by the escort, -of a piano for his wife, of the children who will have grown so, of the -pleasant Christmas they will spend together, when, just where the creek -crosses the road, One-eyed Dick and Derwent Bill step suddenly out.' - -'"Morning, mates," says he, "fine weather after the rain." - -'"Thundering fine," growls the one-eyed ruffian. "This yere's a fine day -for _us_, anyhow. Done well at the Point, young chap?" As they talk they -attempt grim jocularity, but their eyes, cold, sinister, watchful, -betray their intent as they close upon him. - -'"For the love of God, for my wife and children's sake, spare my life!" -gasps the poor fellow; "you shall have every shilling I have in the -world." - -'"We ain't a-going to hurt ye. Just come off the road a bit, will yer?" -says the crafty brute. Pah! I can't bear to think of it. Next summer -some bullock-driver finds a skeleton lashed to a tree, in the thickest -part of the scrub.' - -'I say, Freshland,' I pleaded, 'don't. I've got a couple of miles to -walk in the dark to-night. I think I'd rather hear that kind of story by -daylight. But I must be off now. We tradesmen, you know! Good-bye.' - -I walked back through scattered tents and darksome trees, moaning in the -midnight, as the breeze swept through them. I was unable to banish -Freshland's horrible tale from my mind, and was decidedly relieved when -the yard of our encampment loomed into view. The cattle were lying down, -Ben was smoking his pipe on guard, all was safe. Murderers and burglars -were exercising their talents elsewhere. I was soon in a land where the -mystery of permitted evil troubled me not. - -My career at Ballarat was, however, drawing to a close. While we were -transacting our _al fresco_ breakfast, a 'real butcher' made his -appearance with proposals for the purchase of my remaining cattle, and -the collateral advantages of stock-in-trade, plant, and goodwill. 'Why -had I not come to him in the first instance?' he asked with -good-humoured surprise. Some accident had prevented me hearing of him. -Mr. Garth laughed, and said he was in a small way compared to the -others, with whom I had disagreed. I may say here, that it would be hard -to pass through the populous, wealthy, energetic city of Ballarat now, -without hearing much about Mr. Garth, owner of farms, mills, hotels, -mining companies, what not. - -I was pleased with his frank, liberal way of dealing, and augured -favourably of his future career. He was the ideal purchaser, at any -rate. He adopted, without a word of dissent, my prices, terms, and -conditions. - -With the conclusion of breakfast the whole affair was arranged. The -cattle-edifices, tools of trade, and journeyman butcher were delivered -as per agreement; Charley was sent for the horses, Ben was ordered to -pack, the route was given, and in an hour we had turned our backs upon -Ballarat. - -I sent Ben and Charley back to the station, presenting the former with a -coveted brown filly, and the latter with a white cow, as good-conduct -badges. They reached home safely, after a journey of a couple of hundred -miles, a 'big drink' indulged in by Master Ben on the road -notwithstanding. - -For myself, I went to Melbourne, having business in that deserted -village. I had much difficulty in getting my hair cut, by the only -surviving barber. The site of my shanty and block now trembles under the -traffic of a busy street. The 'lost camp' at Wendouree Lake is valuable -suburban property. Steamers run there. Why did I not buy it? If I had -taken that, and one or two other trifling long shots, I might have been -living in London like Maxwell, or in Paris like Freshland, if a stray -Prussian bullet has not interfered with his matchless digestion. -However, why regret these or any seeming errors of the past? They are -but a few more added to the roll of opportunities, gone with our -heedless youth, and with the hours of that 'distant Paradise,' lost for -evermore. - - - - - MOONLIGHTING ON THE MACQUARIE - - -There are different kinds of work connected with the management of -cattle-stations in the far bush of New South Wales. Some of them strike -the stranger as being curious. At any rate, most people have not heard -of them before, or if they have, don't know much. Something depends upon -_finding_ the cattle which you are required to manage. Didn't Mrs. Glass -say, before yarning about hare soup, 'First catch your hare'? Right she -was! If you'll come with me to the Wilgah brakes, 'Hell's Cages,' and -'Devil's Snuff-boxes' of the Lower Macquarie, you will see the pull of -the 'first catch' arrangement. Don't suppose for a moment that ours is a -neglected herd. If you were to see the stud animals—chiefly Devons and -Herefords, for we found that the 'active reds' could pace out many a -mile from the frontage in a dry season, and be back at their -watering-place while a soft shorthorn would be thinking about it, and, -of course, losing flesh. As I was saying, if you saw our 'Whitefaces' -and 'Devon Dumplings,' you wouldn't think that. But those M'Warrigals, -that we bought the place from long ago, were careless beggars; thought -more of their neighbours' calves—some people say—than minding their own -business and doing their proper station work. Now the back of the run is -scrubby in parts, and the cattle there are 'outlaws' that increase and -multiply. They get joined by other refugees and breakaways—brutes with -no principle whatever. We seldom see them, as they have got a nasty -habit of feeding at night, like tigers and lions and other wild animals. -When we do see them—by day—they break away, scatter, and charge. All the -horses and dogs in the country wouldn't get them. - -What are we to do? There are some famous bullocks among them—rather -coarse, perhaps, but rolling fat—ugly with fat, as the stock-riders say. -And as cattle are a first-class price just now, and the feed grand all -the way to market, there's no use talking; we must have a shy at them. -It won't do for me, a native-born Australian, and manager of my father's -best cattle-station, to be beaten by anything that ever wore a hide. -Have 'em we must. The new paddock is just finished. We are going to -muster the other side of the run—the quiet side—the day after to-morrow, -and if we can make a good haul out of these 'scrub danglers' we shall -have together as fine a lot of fat cattle as ever left the Macquarie. - -And how are we going to do it? There are half-a-dozen as good hands on -this Milgai Run, including the black boys Johnny Smoker and Gundai, as -ever rode stock-horse or followed a beast. And yet, if we rode after -this lot for a month we shouldn't get more than a couple of dozen, tear -our clothes to rags, stake our horses, and get knocked off in the Wilgah -scrubs—after all get next to no cattle—that's what I look at. Still, -there is a way—and only one way—that we may fetch 'em by, and perhaps in -one night. I'm going to tell you about it. We must _moonlight_ 'em. - -It is a strange thing—and I've no doubt it was found out by some -rascally 'duffer,' some cattle-stealing brute that went poking about -after his neighbours' calves (but the amount of cleverness _they_ show -when it's 'on the cross,' no man would believe, unless he knew it from -experience)—it's a strange thing that wild cattle are twice, ten times, -as easy to drive by night as they are by day. Whether they are -afraid—like children—whether they can't see so well, or what it is, I -don't know. But every old stock-rider will tell you that all cattle, -particularly wild ones, are much easier to handle by night than by day. -Another reason is, they go out a long way into the open plains to feed -at night. Whereas by day they lie in their scrubs like rabbits near a -hole, and directly they hear a whip, or a voice, or a stick crack -almost, they're off like a lot of deer. Not that I ever saw any; but one -thinks about the red deer listening and then popping into fern-brakes -and heather-glens. Perhaps I shall see _them_ some day, who knows, if -cattle keep up? - -Well, we had to wait for a day or two, till the moon rose, about ten -o'clock. When the moon rises soon after dusk, they keep about the edge -of the timber, and are ready to dash back directly they see or hear any -one. But when it's dark for some hours before the moon rises, they'll go -out far into the plains and feed as steadily as milkers. - -Well, we sent word to our neighbours and mustered up about twenty men. -We went into the timber at sundown, near a point where we thought they -wouldn't come out, and hobbled our horses. We had brought something to -eat with us, and made a billy of tea; and after we lit our pipes, it was -jolly enough. My stock-rider, Joe Barker, was one of the smartest riders -and best hands with cattle on the river, but, as is sometimes the case -with good men and good horses, he had a queer temper. I wanted him to -bring his old favourite, Yass Paddy, as good and sure a stock-horse as -ever heard a whip. But no, he must bring a new mount that he'd run out -of the wild mob!—a good one to go and to look at, but the biggest tiger -I ever saw saddled. Joe was put out about something, and I didn't like -to cross him. A stock-rider is a bad servant to quarrel with, unless all -your run is fenced, or very open. Besides, with his riding, a donkey -would have been 'there or thereabouts.' - -So we sat and talked, and smoked, and looked about for an hour or two. -At last the time came. We pouched our pipes, saddled up, and headed for -the plains, making a point for a few trees a good way out, near where -the lot we were after often fed. We didn't talk much, but rode far from -one another, so as to have a better chance of seeing them. At last -Gundai rode up alongside me, and pointed ahead. I looked and saw -something dark, which seemed to change line. There were no Indians, no -wolves, no buffaloes, in our part of the world. It might have been -horses, of course, but we were soon near enough to see tails—not -horses'—and a big mob too. Cattle, by Jove! and the heaviest lot we have -seen together since the general muster, many years since, just after we -bought the station. 'All right, boys! we're in for a good thing.' They -were, of course, scattered, feeding about, looking as quiet as store -cattle. The regular thing to do was, of course, known to most of us. A -couple of the smartest riders must start to 'wheel' them, one on each -side. Charley Dickson and the black boy, Gundai, were told off. You -couldn't lick Charley, and Gundai was the most reckless young devil to -ride that ever broke down a stock-horse. But just at this pinch we want -'em to be pretty quick. Never mind about horses' legs, we look to them -afterwards. Off they go like mad Arabs. You can see the dust and dry -grass sent up by Gundai's horse's hoofs, like a small steam-engine. We -hear the rolling gallop of the heavy bullocks, as the big mob of cattle -all raise their heads and make off in a long trailing string—like a lot -of buffaloes—directly they hear the first horse. We ride steadily up in -line, so as to intercept them in the rush they will be sure to make back -towards the scrub. In the meanwhile Charley and Gundai have raced to the -two ends of the string, and are ringing and wheeling, and doubling them -up together, till the mob is regularly bothered. - -Then we go at them, still in well-kept line, and at whichever point a -beast tries to 'break' he finds a horseman ready to 'block' him. There -is no shouting, whip-cracking, or flash work generally. The great thing -is to ride like ten men and be always ready to head or stop a breaking -beast, which can be done at night by only showing yourself. No row or -nonsense; it only makes the cattle worse. Always be in your own place, -and do your work without crossing any one else's line; that's the only -way with cattle. Of course we don't mind their running a little wide as -long as they are heading out into the plains, and not back towards their -scrub forts and hiding-places. So we let them trot a bit, keeping one -man ahead to stop them if they get too fast, as they might get winded, -and then charge and have to be left on the plains. We keep steadily -behind them, while they are streaming out well towards the middle of the -plain, and in a direction that by a little judicious 'edging' will land -them at the Milgai stock-yard. - -Of course there are well-known incorrigibles that have escaped many a -muster, and will be sure to try it on now. 'There goes the grey-faced -bullock. Look out! Look out!' shouts a stock-rider, as an enormous red -bullock, with a speckled Hereford face, turns deliberately round, and, -breaking through the line of horsemen, makes straight for 'Hell's Cage.' - -I am riding Wallaroo, the best stock-horse on the river—at least that is -my belief and opinion. I race at him, and we go neck and neck together -for a hundred yards, at a pace that would win the Hack Stakes at a -country meeting. Wallaroo's shoulder is jammed against the bullock, his -head just behind the brute's great horns. At the batt Greyface is going, -of course, he is occasionally on the balance. As I rush the game little -horse against him, again and again, I can feel his huge bulk tremble and -shake. I am too near for him to horn me, unless he had time to stop and -turn, which, of course, I take care that he has not. After a while he -edges round a bit, then a little more, then he sees the cattle and makes -straight for them as they are moving past in the original direction in -front of him. I slacken pace for an instant, and as I do so, drop the -twelve foot stockwhip on to him with a right and left, which sends him -right up among the tail cattle. He breaks no more for a while, and we -are getting on pretty well. We know our direction now. Some of the -cattle have got rather blown, and their tongues are out. We round them -up, and let them stand for a bit to recover breath. - -Off we go again. Can't stay here all night. They can run for miles in -the scrub, and why not now? Much more steady this time. Begin to give it -up. 'Hullo, what's that?' 'The brindled leader has doubled on us this -time.' This was another regular outlaw. He was called 'Leader' because -he was never far from the two or three foremost cattle wherever he was. -Many a camp had he been on. Many a man had had a turn at him. But the -inside of a yard he hadn't seen for years. He generally waited till the -mob had gone some distance; when he did turn there was no stopping him. -Joe Barker to-day must have a try at him. Away he went. His horse had -not been behaving quite the fair thing, and Master Joe was in a great -rage accordingly. Away he went, as I said, driving his spurs into the -horse, and nearly jumping on to the brindled bullock's back, when he -caught him up. He flogged for a bit without trying to turn him, and no -man in these parts could use a whip with Joe Barker; he always had it in -great order, oiled and lissom, with first-rate hide fall, and the exact -thing in crackers. As the whip rose and fell, every cut marking itself -in blood on the brindle's quarters, we all knew that he hadn't had such -a scarifying for years, if he ever had. This was only to let him taste -what the whip, in Joe's hands, was like. He knew, bless you, that it was -no good to try and turn 'Leader' at first. After he'd smarted him -enough, he went broadside on, and let him have it about the near side of -his face. He could sit on his horse at a hard gallop and flay a beast -alive. After a bit the brindle began to feel it hot. He turned and made -a dangerous rush at Joe. It wasn't so easy to get away as you'd think, -because the horse was partly sulky, and had it taken out of him a good -deal. We had stopped the cattle, and were looking at the fun. He did get -away, however, and flogged that bullock over the face and eyes until he -was more than half blinded. Then he turned again and made for the scrub. -At him, broadside on, went Joe, still flogging to the inch—forward, -backward, every way, all on the near side, till the brindle could stand -it no longer. He sidled and sidled away; lastly, he turned right round, -and, as soon as he saw the cattle again, made for them like a milker's -calf, Joe following up and warming him all the way in. - -The fight wasn't over though, for Joe had been punishing his horse for -being awkward, and the horse's sides and the bullock's back must have -been all of one colour if we could have seen. I mentioned that Joe -Barker had the devil's own temper; it carried him too far this time. The -horse was a sour, peculiar animal, partly nervous, partly determined, as -all the worst buck-jumpers, and what people call vicious horses, are. -There are very few really vicious horses. Half of it is ignorance or -stupidity on the part of the horse or his rider—generally the last, -sometimes both. In this case I think there _was_ vice. At the last few -strides, as Mr. Leader, regularly blown and bullied, was dashing into -the tail cattle, with the intention of working up to the front as usual, -Joe gave his horse two or three tremendous drives with the spurs, -standing up and letting him have them right. He then brought the double -of the whip down over his head, swearing at him for the sulkiest brute -he had ever crossed. It wasn't proper treatment for any horse, but he -was beside himself with rage; and I made up my mind to speak to him in -the morning about it after we had the cattle all safe. The horse took -the law into his own hands, or feet, or fingers, or whatever they are. -The geological fellows tell you once upon a time horses had three toes, -and all but the middle one became unfashionable, and finally hooked it. -I know country where a three-toed horse would come in very handy. But -Joe's horse showed now he hadn't mistaken his character. He gave a snort -as if he had just seen a man for the first time, propped dead, and in a -couple of seconds was bucking away, as you may swear he did the very -first time he was crossed. I thought it served Joe right, and nobody was -uneasy, as he could sit anything with a horse's skin on. But this one -kept bucking sideways, front ways, every way, rearing and kicking, and -what I never saw any horse but a wild one do, biting and snapping like a -dog at Joe's foot every time he turned his head round. Joe, of course, -kicked him in the mouth when he got a chance, and the horse was just -done when he caught his jaw accidentally in the stirrup-iron—his under -jaw. Here he was fixed. He swung round and round with his head all on -one side till he got giddy, and fell with a crash before any one could -get to him. It was a hard bare place, as luck would have it. Joe was -underneath him. We lifted him with his thigh smashed, and a couple of -ribs broken. Here was a pretty thing—ten miles from home, and our best -man with his leg in two. However, there was no help for it. We let go -his horse, put the saddle under his head for a pillow (and, except that -this one was rather hot, it isn't such a bad one), left a black boy with -him till we could send a cart from the station, and started on. - -After this none of the cattle gave any trouble till we were quite within -sight of the yards. There was a large receiving paddock outside of these -again, into which I intended to put the mob for the night, as I fancied -we could get them into the drafting yards better by daylight. But -anything of the nature of post and rails is very terrifying to the -uneducated 'Mickies' and 'clear-skins.' They are always likely to bolt -directly they see a fence. The bullocks might follow them, and if much -confusion arose and there was a little timber there, we might lose the -lot. So our troubles were not over yet. - -But for the wild young bulls and the unbranded heifers born and bred in -the thick covert of the 'Cage' and the 'Snuff-box,' both belonging to -the infernal regions, I had a different kind of help. As the mob now -moved slowly on, the old cows roaring, the calves chiming in, the -bullocks occasionally giving a deep low bellow, making, like all cattle -off their bounds, noise enough for four times the number, I knew that -assistance was not far off. So it turned out, for about two miles from -home we were met by two black dogs, walking slowly to meet us. A brace -of very powerful and determined, not to say ferocious-looking animals -they were. Half bulldog, half greyhound, they took about equally after -both sides of the house. They were moderately fast and immoderately -fierce, most difficult to keep back from bloodshed. They had required an -immense amount of training, which in their case meant unmerciful -licking, before they could be brought to obey orders. In their own line -they couldn't be beat. They were too slow to follow horses all day, but, -as they were fond of cattle work, they always came out a mile or two to -meet us, when they heard the whips and the well-known sounds. Danger and -Death, as I had christened the brothers, were known all up and down the -Macquarie. - -Now I felt quite safe for the first time since we had started, and as we -closed up a little round the cattle, I looked anxiously for a 'break.' -It was not long in coming. A three-year-old bull and a splendid red -heifer charged back, and broke in regular fancy scrub style. Danger -luckily took the heifer; she was clearing out like a flying doe. Danger -was a good deal the quickest on his feet. Death was as sure as his -namesake. He had his customer by the muzzle before he had gone any -distance, and a loud roar, half of rage, half of pain, told us he was -brought to bay. It was not a bad fight. The bull raised him from the -ground more than once, and dashed him down with such force as would have -satisfied any ordinary dog. But his mother's blood was strong in him, -and, after an unavailing resistance, the dog having shifted his hold, -and taken to the ear in preference, Micky was half dragged, half driven -into the mob, among which, for security, he immediately rushed. -Meanwhile the red heifer, rather 'on the leg' and not too fat, forced -the pace, so that I really thought she was going to run away from old -Danger. But he lay alongside of her shoulder doing his best, and every -now and then making a spring at her head. At last he nailed her, and as -he stopped and threw all his weight against her, with his terrible grip -on her nostrils, her head went right under, and she fell over on her -back with such force that she lay stunned. I thought she had broken her -neck. When she got up she staggered, stared piteously all round, and -finally trotted after the cattle like an old milker. We had only one -more break, just as they were going through the paddock rails. Then we -had a wing—fine thing a wing, saves men and horses, too—and the whole -lot were in and the rails up before they knew where they were going. - -Next day we put them in the strong yard, without much trouble, and after -drafting the cows, calves, strangers, and rubbish, we had over a hundred -of as good fat cattle as ever left our district. We picked out a few of -the out-and-outers, including the grey-faced bullock and Leader, and -'blinded' them, after which they travelled splendidly, fed well, and -gave us no trouble on the road down. Isn't it cruel? Not particularly. -We don't put their eyes out. We run them into the 'bot.' The bot is a -'trevis' or pen, high, strong, and so near the size of a beast that they -can't turn round after they've been inveigled into it. Then we can do -what we like with them. They may roar and knock their horns about, or -kick if they're horses—they can't hurt you. For 'blinding' we cut a -broad flap of greenhide, and hang it over the face of any bullock that -has bad manners. It is secured above and below. It works wonders. He -can't see in front of him, only out of the corners of his eyes. -Sometimes he runs against trees and things. This makes him take greater -care of himself. He mostly follows the other cattle then, and in a week -feeds like an old milker. We were nearly selling Greyface and Leader for -a pair of working bullocks before we got down. - -Poor Joe was a long time before he got round. He was never the same man -again. We dropped in for a first-rate market in town, and so were -handsomely paid for a night's 'moonlighting on the Macquarie.' - - - - - AN AUSTRALIAN ROUGHRIDING CONTEST - - -In June 1891, at Wodonga, on the Murray River, in the colony of -Victoria—on the opposite bank to Albury, a town of New South Wales—was -arranged an exhibition for testing the horsemanship of all comers, which -I venture to assert had but few parallels. - -Prizes were to be allotted, by the award of three judges of acknowledged -experience, amounting in all to about £20. Much interested in matters -equine, 'nihil equitatum alienum me puto,' I traversed the three miles -which separate the border towns in a cab of the period, and arrived in -time for the excitement. - -The manner of the entertainment was after this wise. An area of several -acres of level greensward was enclosed within a fence, perhaps eight or -ten feet high, formed of sawn battens, on which was stretched the coarse -sacking known to drapers as 'osnaberg.' This answered the double purpose -of keeping the non-paying public out and the performing horses in. - -I had heard of the way in which the selected horses were saddled and -mounted; I was therefore partly prepared. But, tolerably versed in the -lore of the wilderness, I had never before seen such primitive -equitation. - -About thirty unbroken horses were moving uneasily within a high, -well-constructed stock-yard—the regulation 'four rails' and a -'cap'—amounting to a solid unyielding fence, over seven feet in height. - -That the steeds were really unbroken, 'by spur and snaffle undefiled,' -might be gathered from their long manes, tails sweeping the ground, and -general air of terror or defiance. As each animal was wanted, it was -driven or cajoled by means of a quiet horse into a close yard ending in -a 'crush' or lane so narrow that turning round was impossible. A strong, -high gate in front was well fastened. Before the captive could decide -upon a retrograde movement, long, strong saplings were thrust between -his quarters and the posts of the crush. He was therefore trapped, -unable to advance or retire. If he threatened to lie down, a sapling -underneath prevented that refuge of sullenness. - -Mostly the imprisoned animal preserved an expression of stupid amazement -or harmless terror, occasionally of fierce wrath or reckless despair. -Then he kicked, plunged, reared—in every way known to the wild steed of -the desert expressed his untameable defiance of man, occasionally even -neighing loudly and fiercely. 'Twas all in vain. The prison was too -high, too strong, too narrow, too everything; nothing but submission -remained—'not even suicide,' as Mr. Stevenson declares concerning -matrimony, 'nothing but to be good.' - -This, of course, with variations, as happens perchance in the married -state irreverently referred to. - -Before the colt has done thinking what unprincipled wretches these bush -bipeds are, a 'blind' (ingeniously improvised from a gentleman's -waistcoat) is placed over his eyes, a snaffle bridle is put on, a bit is -forced into his mouth; at the same time two active young men are -thrusting a crupper under his reluctant tail, have put a saddle on his -back, and are buckling leather girths and surcingle (this latter run -through slits in the lower portion of the saddle flaps) as if they meant -to cut him in two. - -This preparatory process being completed in marvellous short time, the -manager calls out 'First horse, Mr. St. Aure,' and a well-proportioned -young man from the Upper Murray ascends the fence, standing with either -leg on the rails, immediately over the angry, terrified animal. - -What would you or I take, O grey-besprinkled reader, to undertake the -mount Mr. St. Aure surveys with calmest confidence? (We are not so young -as we were, let us say in confidence.) - -Deftly he drops into the saddle, his legs just grazing the sides of the -crush. 'Open the gate!' roars the manager. 'Look out, you boys!' and, -with a mad rush, out flies the colt through the open gate like a shell -from a howitzer. - -For ten yards he races at full speed, then 'propping' as if galvanised, -shoots upwards with the true deer's leap, all four feet in the air at -once (from which the vice takes its name), to come down with his head -between his forelegs and his nose (this I narrowly watched) touching the -girths. - -The horseman has swayed back with instinctive ease, and is quite -prepared for a succession of lightning bounds, sideways, upwards, -downwards, backwards, as he appears to turn in the air occasionally and -to come down with his head in the place where his tail was when he rose. - -For an instant he stops: perhaps the long-necked spurs are sent in, to -accentuate the next performance. The crowd meanwhile of 600 or 700 -people, mostly young or in the prime of life, follow, cheering and -clapping with every fresh attempt on the part of the frenzied steed to -dispose of his matchless rider. Five minutes of this exercise commences -to exhaust and steady the wildest colt. It is a variation of -'monkeying,' a device of the bush-breaker, who ties a bag on to the -saddle of a timid colt, and he, frightened out of his life, as _by a -monkey_ perched there, tires himself out, permitting the breaker to -mount and ride away with but little resistance. - -Sometimes indeed the colt turns in his tracks, and being unmanageable as -to guiding in his paroxysms, charges the crowd, whom he scatters with -great screaming and laughing as they fall over each other or climb the -stock-yard fence. But shortly, with lowered head and trembling frame, he -allows himself to be ridden to the gate of egress. There he is halted, -and the rider, taking hold of his left ear with his bridle-hand, swings -lightly to the ground, closely alongside of the shoulder. Did he not so -alight, the agile mustang was capable of a lightning wheel and a -dangerous kick. Indeed, one rider, dismounting carelessly, discovered -this to his cost after riding a most unconscionable performer. - -A middle-aged, wiry, old-time-looking stock-rider from Gippsland next -came flying out on a frantic steed _without a bridle_, from choice. For -some time it seemed a drawn battle between horse and man, but towards -the end of the fight the horse managed to 'get from under.' - -One horse slipped on the short greensward and came over backwards, his -rider permitting himself to slide off. The next animal was described as -an 'outlaw,' a bush term for a horse which has been backed but never -successfully ridden. She, a powerful half-bred, fully sustained it by a -persevering exhibition of every kind of contortion calculated to -dissolve partnership. At one time it looked as if the betting was in -favour of the man, but the mare had evidently resolved on a last appeal. -Setting to with redoubled fury, she smashed the crupper, tore out one of -the girth straps, and then performed the rare, well-nigh incredible feat -of sending the saddle over her head _without breaking the surcingle_. -This is the second time, during a longish acquaintance with every kind -of horse accomplishment, that I have witnessed this performance. It is -not always believed, but can be vouched for by the writer and about five -or six hundred people on the ground. I _felt_ the girth, and saw that -the buckle was still unslacked. - -The rider, Mortimer, came over the mare's head, sitting square with the -saddle between his legs, and received an ovation in consequence. - -The last colt had been driven into the crush 'fiercely snorting, but in -vain, and struggling with erected mane,' and enlarged 'in the full foam -of wrath and dread,' when another form of excitement was announced. A -dangerous-looking four-year-old bullock was now yarded in the outer -enclosure, light of flesh but exceeding fierce, which he proceeded to -demonstrate by clearing the place of all spectators in the shortest time -on record. - -Climbing hurriedly to the 'cap' of the stock-yard fence, they looked on -in secure elevation, while the _toreadors_ cunningly edged him into the -crush, and there confined him like the colts. Here he began to paw the -ground and bellow in ungovernable rage. At this stage the manager thus -delivered himself: 'It's Mr. Smith's turn, by the list, to ride this -bullock, but he says he don't care. Is there any gentleman here as'll -ride him?' - -With Mr. Smith's natural disinclination for the mount the crowd -apparently sympathised. The bullock meanwhile was pawing the earth and -roaring in a hollow and blood-curdling manner, as who should say, 'Let -me at him; only let me have one turn with hoof and horn.' To the -unprejudiced observer the mount seemed one that no gentleman would court -or even accept. - -However, the Gippslander, removing his pipe from his mouth, calmly -remarked, 'I'll ride him,' whereupon the crowd burst out with a cheer, -evidently looking upon the offer as one of exceptional merit. - -There was no bridle or saddle in this case. A rope was fastened around -the animal's body, and with this slender accoutrement only, the -stock-rider deposited himself upon the ridge of the red bullock's back. -Then the gate was opened, and out he came in all his glory. - -No one that has merely observed the clumsy gambols of the meadow-fed ox -can have an idea of the speed and agility of the bush-bred steer, reared -amid mountain ranges and accustomed to spurts up hill and down, with a -smart stock-horse rattling by the side of the drove, always making -excellent time, and not infrequently distancing their pursuers amid the -forests and morasses of their native runs. - -This one had a shoulder like a blood horse, great propelling power, and -stood well off the ground, with muscular arms and hocks to match. - -He reared, bucked, and plunged almost with the virulence and variety of -the colts, and when, after a prolonged and persevering contest, he -gradually managed to shift his rider on to his _croupe_, and thence by a -complicated and original twist of his quarters dislodged him, it was -felt by the spectators that he had worthily sustained the honour of the -stock-riding fraternity. Cheers resounded from all sides, as the crowd -returning to a centre surrounded the fallen but not disgraced combatant. -I think the boys were privately disappointed that the bullock did not -turn to gore his antagonist, but he was too much excited for such an -attack. He made a bee-line for the fence, which, all-ignorant of its -flimsy nature, he did not attempt to jump or overthrow, contenting -himself with running by the side of it until he came to the corner, -where a gate was cunningly left open for his departure. After a -respectable 'cap' had been collected for the veteran, who was more than -twice the age of the other competitors, the prizes were distributed, and -the entertainment concluded. - -As an Australian I may be slightly prejudiced, but I must confess to -holding the opinion that our bush-riders in certain departments are -unrivalled. The South American 'gaucho' and the 'cow-boy' of the Western -States are, doubtless, wonderful horsemen, but they ride under -conditions more favourable than those of our bushmen. The saddle of the -Americans is the old-fashioned Spanish one—heavy, cumbrous, and, besides -the high pommel and cantle, provided with a horn-like fixture in front, -to which the lasso is attached generally, but which serves as a -belaying-pin and a secure holdfast for the rider in case of need. The -tremendous severity of the heavy curb-bit must also tend to moderate the -gambades of all but the most vicious or untamed animals. Besides all -this, the horses ridden by them are mere ponies compared to the big, -powerful Australian colts, and as such easier to control. - -But let the stranger, when minded to try his horsemanship, find himself -upon a 'touchy' three-year-old, and how insecure does his position -appear! He is a good way off the ground, which said ground is mostly -extremely hard. The colt is nearly sixteen hands high, and feels strong -enough in the loins, if fully agitated, to throw him into a gum-tree. -The single-reined snaffle, to which he trusts his life, is of the -plainest, cheapest description of leather and iron. The saddle is the -ordinary English saddle, fuller in the flap and pads, but otherwise -giving the impression of being hard, slippery, and affording but little -hope of recovery when once the seat is shaken. - -When, with nothing but this simple accoutrement, or perhaps a rolled -bag, strapped in front of the pommel, our bushmen ride, as I have -described, it must be conceded that no horsemen could be less indebted -to adventitious aid. - -In the peculiar, strictly Australian department, known as 'scrub -riding,' no one not 'to the manner born' can be said to hold a candle to -them. - -The home of the half-wild herds of cattle and horses is frequently -mountainous, thickly-wooded, and rocky. Amid these declivitous -fastnesses in which they are reared, the outliers of the herd acquire -speed, wind, and activity, which must be known to be believed. Through -these interlaced and thick-growing woodlands, down the rocky ridge, -across the treacherous morass, away go the cattle or the wild horses at -a pace apt to take them out of sight and hearing in remarkably short -time. The ordinary horseman, able to hold his own fairly well on road or -turf, even in the hunting field, here finds himself hopelessly at fault. -Not wanting in pluck, he does his best for a mile or more. But he knocks -his knee against one tree, his shoulder against another, and narrowly -escapes dashing his brains out by reason of a low-lying branch, which -knocks off his hat, and might easily—he reflects—have performed the same -office for the head which it covered. He realises the disability under -which he labours by reason of not being able to calculate his distance -from the unyielding timber in front, beside, around; at the same time to -distinguish the route of the fast-vanishing 'mob' (_Anglice_, drove), -while all his skill and strength are required to control a stock-horse, -if such a mount has been provided for him, which clambers along -hillsides and tears down the same with the sure-footedness of a mule, -while he leaves the full responsibility of directing his headlong career -to his rider. When at the end of several miles the visitor pulls up, he -is entirely out of the hunt. Neither men, horses, dogs, nor cattle are -within sight and hearing. He is not accustomed to tracking, nor perhaps -is the ground favourable to such practice. Nothing is left for him but -to follow on as nearly as may be in the direction of the riders, -fortunate if, some hours after, he is hunted up by a man sent in search -of him, or, more fortunate still, has left all path-finding to his -horse, and joyfully recognises the homestead, which comes into sight -much sooner than he expected. - -In contrast to this exploit, behold the sons of the waste under the same -circumstances. Riding along with apparent carelessness, several pairs of -sharp eyes are piercing the forest glades in every part of the -foreground. One man has descried the outline of a group of slowly-moving -forms, or it may be but a single beast, high up a hillside in the gorge -of a mountain-range, the depths of a narrow brook, traversed ravine—it -matters not. It is the herd they are seeking, or a section of it. The -quick-eyed scout gives a low whistle, perhaps holds up his hand; the -signal is understood. Bridle-reins are gathered up. No word is spoken, -but each man has his horse in hand as they move slowly towards the -grazing or stationary outliers. A few minutes bring them nearer, within -perhaps good wheeling distance, when a sentinel gets view or winds them, -and the whole troop is off like a shot. Each horse, but a minute since -stumbling along at a 'stockman's jog' or a go-as-you-please walk, starts -into top speed as if for a mile heat. The men, taking a 'bee-line,' ride -straight for the fast-vanishing cattle, as if there was not a tree or a -rock within miles. How they do it is a never-ending marvel to the -uninitiated. But they will not only keep with the outlaws, but out-pace -and out-general them; wheeling them at critical places, racing ahead and -rounding them up; eventually, with mingled force and diplomacy, hustling -them across a country without track, road, or apparently natural -features, till dead-beat and defeated they are landed in the high, -secure stock-yard, from which some of their number at least will never -emerge alive. - - - - - THE MAILMAN'S YARN - AN OWER TRUE TALE - - -'Rum things happen in the bush, you take my word for it,' suddenly broke -out Dan M'Elroy as we were sitting smoking round a camp fire, far back -in the 'Never Never' one night. The whole tract of country west of the -Barcoo was under water that summer. We were all stuck hard and fast, -about fifty miles from Sandringham, waiting for the creeks and cowalls -to go down. They weren't small ones either—twenty feet deep in some -places and half a mile wide. There were a dozen teamsters with -wool-waggons, Jim and me and two black boys with four hundred head of -fat cattle from Marndoo. A police trooper bringing down a horse-stealer -for trial, committed by the Bench there, made up the party. The prisoner -was made comfortable—only chained to a log for safety. Here we were, -waiting, waiting, and had to make the best of it. We walked about in the -daylight, and did a bit of shooting. We'd put up a bough yard for the -cattle, more for the exercise than anything else; and to make the time -pass we'd taken to telling yarns. Some of them were that curious I wish -I hadn't forgotten 'em. But this one that Dan told that night I shall -remember to my dying day. He was the mail contractor between St. George -and Bolivar Run, a weather-beaten Bathurst native, as hard as iron-bark, -who'd have contracted to run the mail from the Red Sea to Jordan in -spite of all the Arabs if they'd made it worth his while. He was afraid -of nothing and nobody. In his time he had been speared by blacks, shot -at by bushrangers, fished for dead out of flooded creeks, besides being -'given up' in fever, ague, and sunstroke in exploring of mail routes -through the 'Never Never' country. Hairbreadth escapes were daily bread -to him. He seemed to thrive on 'em, but this one must have been out of -the common way. - -He looked round over the great plain, where we could see the glimmer of -water on every side by the light of the low moon, just showing, red and -goblin-like. A murmuring wind began to whisper and sob among the stunted -myall, swaying the long streamers as if they were mourning for the dead. -It felt colder, though we'd piled up the logs on the fire lately, when -he filled his pipe and said: 'We'll turn in after this, but you may as -well take it to sleep on. It was nigh twenty year ago it happened, yet -it comes back to me now as fresh as I saw it that cursed night. You -chaps remember,' he said, taking a good steady draw at his pipe, by way -of starting it and the yarn at the same time,—'you remember, as I told -you, I was running a horse mail between Marlborough Point and Waranah, -somewhere about '68. A different season from this, I tell you. No rain -for about eighteen months, and when the autumn came in dry, with the -nights long and cold, the sheep began to die faster than you could count -'em. I had a fairish contract, and though the mail was a heavy one, I -was able to manage it by riding one horse and leading a packer. A -terrible long day's ride it was—three times a week—eighty-five mile. Of -course I had a change of horses, but I didn't get in till eleven or -twelve at night to Waranah. The frosty nights had set in, and sometimes, -between being half-frozen and dead-tired, I could hardly sit on my -horse. It was getting on in June, and still no rain, only the frosts -getting sharper and sharper, when I came along to a sandhill by the side -of a billabong of the Murrumbidgee, about ten miles from Waranah. There -was a big water-hole there; it was a favourite camping place between the -township and Baranco station. I was later than usual, and it was about -midnight when I got to this point. Through a weak horse as had knocked -up I'd had to walk five miles. I was nigh perished with the cold; hungry -too, for I'd had no time to stop and get a feed; and as I'd been in the -saddle since long before daylight, you may guess I was pretty well -tuckered out. A particular spot, too, when you come to think of it. The -sand-ridge ran back from the water-hole a good way (there was a big -kurrajong-tree beside it, I remember), and spread out near upon a mile -till you got into a fair-sized plain. The ridge—that's the way of 'em in -dry country—was covered as thick as they could stand with pine-scrub. An -old cattle-track ran right through to the plain, where they used to come -to water in the old days when Baranco was a cattle-run. I was dozing on -my horse, dog-tired and stiff with the cold, when I came to the -water-hole at the foot of this sandhill. I always used to pull up there -and have a smoke; so I stopped and looked round about, in a half-sleepy, -dazed kind of way. I felt for my box of matches, and I'm dashed if they -weren't gone—shot out, I expect—for I'd been working my passage and been -jumbled about more than enough. That put the cap on. I felt as if I'd -drop off the horse there and then. I never was one for drinking, and I -didn't carry a flask. How I'd get on the next couple of hours I couldn't -think. - -'All of a sudden a streak of light came through the darkness of the -pine-scrub to the left of me. It got broader and broader. It wasn't the -moon, I knew, for that wouldn't show till nigh-hand daylight. It must be -a fire. Somebody camping, of course; but why they didn't stop by the -water, the regular place, with good feed and open ground all round them, -I couldn't make out. I was off like a shot, and hung up my horses to the -kurrajong tree, which stood handy. It was too thick to ride through the -pine saplings, and I thought the walk would freshen me up. I started off -quite jolly with the notion of the grand warm I should have at the fire, -and the pipeful of baccy I'd be able to borrow. It was a big fire I saw -as I stumbled along, getting nearer and nearer the head of an old-man -pine, the branches as dry as timber, and would burn like matchwood. I -could see three men standing round it. As I got nearer I was just going -to halloo out, partly for fun and partly for devilment, when the wind -blew the flame round, and made one of the men, who was poking a pole -into the fire, shift and turn his face towards me. Mind! I was in the -dark shadow of the pines. The glare of the fire lit up his face and -those of the two other men as clear as day. - -'The man's face, as it turned towards where I was standing, had such a -hellish expression, that I stopped dead and drew behind an overhanging -"balah" that grew among the pines. He seemed to be listening. Another -man with an axe in his hand said something to him, when he walked a few -steps down the track towards me and stopped. My God, what a face it was! -No devil out of hell could have looked more fiendish than he did. It was -like no human face I'd ever seen. I began to think I was asleep, and -dreaming of a story in a book. - -'They were not more than twenty yards from where I stood. My heart beat -that loud I was afraid they'd hear it. My hair stood on end, if any -one's ever did, while as the tall, dark man began to poke the fire -again, and pushed something further into it that was _not a log of -wood_, I deuced near fainted, and beads of perspiration rolled down my -forehead and face. What did I see that caused every drop of blood in my -veins to turn to ice? What the strange man stirred in the fire, making -the sparks to fly all round among the red glowing embers, was a -_corpse_! There was no mistaking the dreadful shape. One arm stuck out. -The legs were there, the skull blackened and featureless, and, Heavenly -Father! beyond and in the middle of the heap of glowing embers lay -another shape huddled together, and showing no angle of limb or bone. -The other man, with a broom of boughs tied together, was busy sweeping -in all the pieces of charcoal, so as to prevent the flame from spreading -through the tall, dry grass. At a short distance I could make out a -tilted cart, such as hawkers use in the bush. "By——!" said the man with -the pole, "I'll swear I heard a stick crack. Any traveller as come to -the water-hole and followed the track up, 'll have to be rubbed out, and -no two ways about it. It will be our lives against his!" - -'"Haven't we had blood enough for one day?" says the other man. "By -George! when I think of these two poor chaps' faces, just afore you -dropped 'em with the axe, I'd give all we've made ten times over to have -'em alive again." - -'"You always was a snivelling beggar," says the tall man. "If you'd had -your back scratched at Port Arthur half as often as me, you'd think no -more of a man's life than a wild dog's. I believe it must 'a been one or -a wallaby as made the stir." - -'I've faced a trifle of danger, and seen some "close calls" in my time, -but nothing came near that half-hour I spent there till I could make -myself steady enough to stir. I couldn't sit; I was too done to stand; -so there I had to crouch down and wait till I got the chance to go back -on my tracks. - -'All the time they kept pushing the bodies into the centre of the fire, -without stopping, as they got smaller and smaller. Two of the men were -at this dreadful work, while the third was sweeping round every edge of -the fire. At last the two men I first saw, sat down on a log close handy -and began to smoke. Now was my chance. I crawled from my tree and crept -along the cattle-track till I come to where my horses were standing. I -mounted one, somehow, and took the other's bridle. I rode steady enough -for a while, and then, hustling the poor brutes into a hand-gallop, kept -along the road to Waranah till I reached the gate at the boundary of the -run. Even then I felt as if I was hardly safe. I looked round and could -almost see witches and devils following me through the air, and waving -ghosts' arms in every bough of the stunted trees through which the road -wound. - -'When I saw the lights of the little township, I was that glad that I -shouted and sang all the way up to the hotel where the mail was -delivered. I had a strange sort of feeling in my head as I rode up to -the door. Then I reeled in my saddle; everything was dark. I remembered -no more till at the end of a week I found myself in bed recovering from -fever. - -'I suppose I'd been sickening for it before. What with hot days, cold -nights, and drinking water out of swamps and dry holes that were half -mud and half—pah! something you don't like to think of—the wonder is we -bushmen don't get it oftener. Anyhow I was down that time, and next -morning it seems they had the doctor to me. He was a clever man and a -gentleman, too, my word! He fetched me round after a month, but I was -off my head the first week, and kept raving (so they told me afterwards) -about men being knocked on the head and burned, hawkers' carts, and -Derwenters, and the big water-hole by Budgell Creek. - -'They thought it was all madness and nonsense at first, and took no -notice, till one afternoon Mr. Belton, the overseer of Baranco, comes -riding into town, all of a flurry, wanting to see the police and the -magistrate, Mr. Waterton. This was what he had to say:— - -'There had been some heavy lots of travelling sheep passing through the -station, and he was keeping along with them for fear they might miss the -road and not find it again till they'd ate off a mile or two of his best -grass. All of a sudden a mob of the Baranco weaners ran across a plain -and nearly boxed with 'em. Mr. Belton gallops for his life—I expect he -swore a bit, too—and was just in time to head 'em off into the -pine-scrub by the sandhill. They took the old cattle-track over towards -the water-hole, he following them up, till all of a sudden he comes -plump on a hawker's cart! - -'This pulled him up short. He let the sheep run on to the frontage and -got off his horse. He knew the Colemans' cart. They always stayed a -night at Baranco. When they passed, _a week since_, they were to make -Waranah that night. What the deuce were they doing here? Hang the -fellows! were they spelling their horses? Feed was scarce. No! they were -not the men to do that. Honest, straight-going chaps they'd always been. - -'He walked over to the cart. Something wrong surely! The big slop-chest -was open. The cash-box, with lock smashed, was empty. Boots, clothes, -tobacco, which they always had of the best, lying scattered about. Where -were the poor fellows themselves? If they had been robbed, why hadn't -they gone to the police at Waranah and complained? Whoever had done this -must have camped here in the middle of the scrub. Then there'd been a -fire over by the big pine-stump—an "old man" fire too. Wonder they -hadn't set a light to the dry grass? No rain for the half-year to speak -of. No; they had been too jolly careful. Swept in the twigs and ashes -all round. Curious fire for bushmen to make too—big enough to roast an -ox. He stares at the ashes; then gropes among them with his hand. My -God! What are these small pieces of bone? Why, the place is full of -them. And this? and this? A metal button, a metal buckle—one, two, -three—twelve in all. - -'It comes back to him now that three travellers left the Baranco men's -hut the same morning as the Colemans—one a tall, dark, grey-haired old -hand, with a scar across his face. He gets his horse with a long sort of -half-whistle and half-groan and rides slow, in a study like, toward the -township. The next day the magistrate, Mr. Waterton (he's a squatter, -but sits most times when the Police Magistrate isn't on hand), goes out -with the Sergeant of Police and the best part of the townspeople of -Waranah. He holds an Inquiry. The doctor attended and gave evidence that -he had no doubt whatever that the bones formed part of human skeletons. -The surface of the fire was raked over, and a lot of metal buttons and -buckles—as many as would be used for two pairs of trousers—with other -remains of clothing, were found. A verdict of "wilful murder against -some person or persons unknown" was returned. - -'On the second day after the murder three men crossed the Murray River -pretty high up, near a public-house. Their ways were suspicious. One of -them fired off a revolver. They had on new suits of clothes, new boots -with elastic sides, and no end of tobacco of a queer brand—not known in -those parts. Large swags too! The boss of the crowd was a tall, dark -man, with a scar and grey hair. He was the man who fired the revolver -and used wild language. The police from Crowlands picked up the trail so -far. If they had followed hard on, like the Avenger of Blood (as the -feller says in the play), they might have run down the murderin' dogs. -But the publican had a bad memory. _He couldn't remember_ seeing any -out-of-the-way travellers cross the river that week. So the police -turned back, and lost the scent for good and all. - -'A queer enough thing about the matter was, that directly after the -Inquiry was published, a telegram was sent from the poor fellows' -friends to the sergeant at Waranah. He was to look under the lid of the -big slop-chest and he'd find a false top that slid back—very neat made, -so that people mostly wouldn't notice it. Behind this was a drawer, and -in it notes and cheques. They never kept more than a fiver or so in the -cash-box, and told the secret to their relatives before leaving town. -Sure enough the sergeant finds the secret-drawer, and in it, after being -in the open bush nearly a fortnight, £90 odd in notes and good cheques, -which of course he sent to their friends. The villains only got £4 and a -fit-out of clothes and tobacco. The police never could get wind of these -wretches for years after. However, they dropped on the man with the -scar, whose name was Campbell. He was sworn to as the man who left -Baranco with the other two on the day of the murder, as the man as had -new clothes and tobacco (such as nobody but the Colemans sold in the -district) two days after. It was proved that they were all hard up and -ragged when they left Baranco. The evidence was in dribs and drabs. But -they pieced it together, bit by bit. It was good enough to hang him, and -hang him they did. I swore to him as the man I saw at the fire that -terrible night. And now, mates, I'll turn in. There's no fear of being -burned to bits here, is there? Good-night all!' - - - - - DEAR DERMOT - - -Somehow the days of my youth seem to have been inextricably mixed up -with horses. How I loved them, to be sure!—thought of them by day, -dreamed of them by night. Books and girls might temporarily enter into -competition as objects of engrossing interest; but the noble animal must -have had possession of my thoughts for a large proportion of the waking -hours. - -From boyhood the proprietor of studs more or less extensive, I was quick -to discern excellence in other people's favourites. My mind was stored, -my imagination fired, besides, with tales of equestrian feats, performed -chiefly by Arab chiefs and other heroes of old-world romance. In a -chronic state of expectancy, I was always ready to do honour to the -legendary steed, so rarely encountered, alas! save in the bounteous -realm of fiction. - -When, therefore, I _did_ fall across 'the courser of the poets,' or his -simulacrum, I was prepared to secure him at a fancy price; holding that -if I could recoup the outlay by selling a pair of average horses of my -own breeding, the luxury of possessing a paragon would be cheaply -purchased. - -And would it not be? Albeit there are multitudes of people to whom one -horse, save the mark, is much like another. For them, the highest joy, -the transcendent sensation of being carried by 'the sweetest hack in the -world,' exists not. But to him who recognises and appreciates the speed, -the spirit, the smoothness, and the safety of the 'wonderful' hackney, -there are few outdoor pleasures possessing similar flavour. - -It is more than half a century, sad to relate, since I first took bridle -in hand. During that time I have ridden races on 'the flat,' over 'the -sticks,' and have backed for the first time a score or more of -wholly-untried colts. I have tested hundreds of saddle-horses, over -every variety of road, at all sorts of distances, in all ranges of -climate, and after this extended experience I unhesitatingly pronounce -Dermot, son of Cornborough, to be in nearly all respects the finest -example of the blood hackney which I ever mounted. The 'sweetest,' etc., -he certainly was. Almost too good for this wicked world. - -The birth of this unrivalled steed was mainly due to one of the magnates -of the earlier Victorian era, himself an example of the strangeness of -that destiny which shapes our ends in life. A member of a family of -financial aristocrats, domiciled in London and Paris, with which -capitals our friend was equally familiar, Mr. Adolphus Goldsmith -scarcely dreamed in youth of 'colonial experience.' - -But something went wrong with the finance arrangements of his near -relatives. A crisis culminated, and the necessity arose for Goldsmith -(_fils_) applying himself to the stern realities of life. He had -previously performed the strictly ornamental duties of a young man about -town. But with a cool perception of the situation, characteristic of the -man, and a steadfast determination to conquer adverse fate, the whilom -_élégant_ of the Bois de Boulogne and the Row looked over the map of the -world, picked his colony, giving the _pas_ to Victoria, the then -fashionable El Dorado for younger sons and _vauriens_, converted the -remnant of his fortune into letters of credit, and sailed for Port -Phillip. - -As an Englishman by birth and rearing as well as adoption, Mr. Goldsmith -had sported park hacks and ridden to hounds in his day. He possessed the -Englishman's love for horses. Visions, therefore, arose of improving the -breed in the new country which he was about to patronise, and -incidentally devoting himself to agricultural pursuits. - -Distrusting, however, his suitability for the necessary purchases and -arrangements, he sensibly cast about for a coadjutor, fully instructed -in bucolic lore, to whom he might confide details. - -He was successful beyond expectation, inasmuch as he induced Mr. Hatsell -Garrard, a gentleman farmer from the midland counties (whose love of all -genuine sport had, combined with a run of bad seasons, probably rendered -rent-paying temporarily arduous), to accompany him as General Manager to -Australia. And whoso recalls his fresh-coloured countenance, his -pleasant smile, his shrewd blue eye, his neat rig and bridle-hand, -reproduces out of memory's storehouse the ideal yeoman from 'Merrie -England.' - -Mr. Garrard promptly demonstrated a knowledge of his business by -purchasing Cornborough, son of Tramp, a grandson of the immortal -Whalebone. For this sole achievement he deserves a statue, and in that -Pantheon which future Victorians may rear for the founders of their -prosperity and glory, the square-built, genuinely English figure of Mr. -Garrard should find a place. What a responsibility was cast upon him -when you come to think of it! How easily might he have chosen an equally -blue-blooded, but leggy, rickety, pernicious weed, such as has so often -been foisted upon unwary breeders. - -Instead of which, he enriched us with the noble, whole-coloured, brown -horse, choke-full of the best blood in England, of medium height, but -perfect in symmetry, soundness, faultless in wind and limb, temper and -courage, fated to be the long-remembered sire of racers, hacks, and -harness horses of the highest class—to be honoured in life, regretted, -ay, sincerely mourned, in death. For on his unexpected demise, his -disconsolate owner was discovered in such a state of prostration and -grief that every one thought his wife must be dead, or, at any rate, -some relative near and dear. - -Truly, the squatter of the 'forties' was from one reason or another a -man _sui generis_, with whom the present pastoral era furnishes few -parallels. Mr. Goldsmith, in addition to other accomplishments (did he -not challenge Charles Macknight to a bout at single-stick, duly fought -out within the precincts of the Melbourne Club?) was a musical -connoisseur and no mean performer. When the comfortable cottage at -Trawalla was completed, albeit stone-paved and bark-roofed, the -drawing-room contained a handsome piano, to which, after dinner, the -proprietor mostly betook himself. There, in operatic reminiscences and -compositions of impromptu merit, he was wont to wander from the realms -of reality to a dreamworld of sweet sounds and brighter souvenirs. How -one envied him the delicious distraction! - -So the Trawalla estate had birth and beginning. It was a first-class -'run' in those simpler times; well watered, with picturesque -alternations of hill and dale, plain and forest. The 'shepherded' sheep -had unfailing pasture and ample range. There were no fences in those -days, excepting around the horse-paddock. - -Temptations to over-stocking were fewer, and chiefly—in default of -boundary—took the form of an invasion of some neighbour's territory, a -trespass which his shepherds were prompt to resent. Thus, the natural -grasses were but moderately fed down, and, with the autumn rains -unfailing in _that_ district, assumed a richly verdurous garb, scarcely -so frequent in the wire-fenced decades. I do not recall the name of the -deserving but less fortunate pioneer, the first or second occupant of -this desirable holding, from whom Mr. Goldsmith purchased the -'right-of-run,' with probably a mere handful of stock. With cash in -hand, he was doubtless enabled to make an advantageous purchase, and -thus enter upon his predecessor's labours; once more, as it turned out, -to place his foot on fortune's ladder. - -Far from London and Paris, Ascot and Goodwood, as he found himself, the -erstwhile man about town was not wholly debarred from congenial society. -William Gottreaux, another musical enthusiast, was at Lilaree; Hastings -Cunningham at Mount Emu; Donald and Hamilton, Philip Russell, and other -gentleman pioneers within an easy ride. He became a member of the -Melbourne Club, then in Collins Street, upon the site of the Bank of -Victoria. The late Sir Redmond Barry was his early and intimate friend. -(I took charge of a small package of tobacco, on my homeward voyage, -from the Judge, as it seems that particular brand was not procurable in -Paris.) When things were settled at Trawalla and the stock manifestly -improving, with Cornborough in a snug loose-box, and the sheep -increasing fast, the owner of Trawalla found a reasonable amount of -recreation, as comprised in frequent sojourns at the Melbourne Club, and -the enjoyment of the metropolitan society of the day, quite compatible -with the effective supervision of the station. - -Thus, on the advancing tide of Victorian prosperity, then steadily -sweeping onward, unknown to us all, Trawalla and its owner were floated -on to fortune—a gently gliding, agreeable, and satisfactory process. The -sheep multiplied, the fleece acquired name and repute—one _couldn't_ -grow bad wool in that country, however hard you might try. Cornborough -became a peer of the Godolphin Arabian in all men's eyes, and the A.G. -brand, on beeve-or horse-hide, an accredited symbol of excellence. A -purchase of waste land at St. Kilda, made solely, as he informed me, in -order to qualify as a legislator, turned out a most profitable -investment. - -Swiftly the golden period arrived when, after the first years of doubt -and uncertainty, it became apparent to holders of station property that -nothing prevented them from clearing out at a highly satisfactory price, -and leaving the conflicting elements of dear labour, high prices, and a -heterogeneous population, to settle themselves as best they might. Mr. -Goldsmith, now free to return to Europe, seriously considered the claims -of the Rue de Bellechasse, Faubourg St. Germain, as contrasted with -Collins Street and the Melbourne Club. - -It may be that the owner of Trawalla would have decided upon continuous -occupation, with a view to founding an estate, if his sons, who visited -Victoria in 1851, had exhibited any aptitude for the life of Australian -country gentlemen. But Messrs. Edward and Alfred Goldsmith, who had been -educated chiefly in Paris, when they visited their father in 1851, did -not take kindly to his adopted country. Cultured, polished young men, -yet decidedly more French than English, Parisians to their finger-nails -in all their tastes and habitudes, they grieved and irritated their -Australianised parent. - -Chiefly they lacked the adventurous spirit which would have enabled them -to behold, mentally, the grand possibilities of a colonial possession. -All their sympathies were with their lost Eden, the Paris which they had -quitted. In Victoria they beheld nothing but the distasteful privations -of a new country, hardly redeemed from primeval _sauvagerie_. The roads -were rough, the beds hard, the cookery—'Ah, mon Dieu!—lamentable, -indescribable.' - -It was a good time to sell, and though the Trawalla estate of to-day -represents a considerably larger sum than Mr. Simson gave for the run -and stock, perhaps our old friend was not so far out when he decided to -let well alone and retire upon a fair competency. - -To that end the stud was sentenced to sale and dispersion; many a -descendant of the lamented Cornborough went to enrich the paddocks of -friends and well-wishers. I think Mr. Hastings Cunningham bought the -greater number of the brood mares and young stock, at an average rate -per head. - -Now, Dermot was the old gentleman's hack. (Was he old, or, perhaps, only -about forty-five? We were decided then as to the time of life when decay -of all the faculties was presumed to set in.) I many a time and oft -admired the swell, dark bay, striding along the South Yarra tracks with -aristocratic elegance, or, more becomingly arrayed, carrying a lady in -the front of a joyous riding-party. His owner was _un galant uomo_, and -the gentle yet spirited steed was always at the service of his lady -friends. - -So when, one day at the club, he suggested to me to buy Dermot—more than -one lady's horse being required in our family at that time, and only -fifty pounds named as the price—I promptly closed. - -Dead and buried is he years agone; but I still recall, with memory's -aid, the dark bay horse, blood-like, symmetrical, beauteous in form as -aristocratic in bearing. 'Hasn't he the terrifyin' head on him?' queried -an Irish sympathiser, somewhat incongruously, as he gazed with rapt air -and admiring eyes at the tapering muzzle, large, soft eyes, and Arab -frontal. - -Delicate, deer-like, strictly Eastern was the head referred to, -beautifully set on a perfectly-arched neck, which again joined oblique, -truly perfect shoulders. Their mechanism must have been such, inasmuch -as never did I know any living horse with such liberty of forehand -action. - -Walking or cantering down an incline, shut but your eyes, and you were -unable to tell by bodily sensation whether you were on level ground or -otherwise. He 'pulled up' in a way different from any other horse. -Apparently, he put out his legs, and, lo! you were again at a walk. No -prop, shake, or jar was perceptible. It was a magical transformation. An -invalid recovering from a fever could have ridden him a day's journey. -No one could fall off him in fact. - - He who had no peer was born - -amid the green forest parks of Trawalla, at no great distance from -Buninyong, or the historic goldfield of Ballarat. - -His sire, Cornborough, than whom no better horse ever left England, was -a brown horse, like The Premier and Rory O'More; like them, -middle-sized, symmetrical rather than powerful. Among the early cracks -that owed their speed and courage to him were Cornet, Bessie Bedlam, -Beeswing, Ballarat, The Margravine (dam of Lord Clyde), with many -others, now half forgotten. Cornet was, I think, the first of his -progeny trained. He ran away with most of the two-year-old stakes of the -day, to be ever after known as a fast horse and a good stayer. I -remember his beating Macknight's St. George at Port Fairy, in a match -for £100, and winning various other stakes and prizes. His half-sister, -Mr. Austin's Bessie Bedlam, was one of the most beautiful race-horses -ever saddled. I well remember her running in old days, and can see her -now, stepping along daintily with her head up, like an antelope. She won -many a race, and was successful as a stud matron after turf triumphs -were over. Beeswing was also good, but not equal to her. Ballarat was a -great raking, handsome chestnut mare, bred by Dick Scott, a stock-rider -of Mr. Goldsmith's. She must have had a good turn of speed, inasmuch as -she won the All-aged Stakes in Melbourne, as a three-year old. The -Cornboroughs, like the Premiers, were remarkable for their temperate -dispositions. They had abundance of courage, but no tendency to vice of -any kind. - -On his dam's side Dermot boasted Peter Fin (Imp) as grandsire, and other -good running blood. His pedigree was incomplete, thus leaving him open -to a suspicion of being not quite thoroughbred. But the stain—the 'blot -on the scutcheon,' if such there was—showed neither by outward sign nor -inward quality. - -Then, as to paces. He walked magnificently, holding up his head in a -lofty and dignified manner; his mouth of the lightest—velvet to any -touch of bit—but withal firm. He had always been ridden with a double -bridle, and showed no provincial distaste to bit and bridoon. If -required to quicken his pace from a fast but true walk, he could adopt a -rapid amble, so causing any ordinary stepper to trot briskly. And then -his canter—how shall I describe it? Springy, long-striding, yet -floating, improving his speed at will to a hand-gallop if you merely -shook the reins, and as readily, smoothly subsiding at the lightest -sustained pull. - -With such a horse under you it seemed as if one could go on for ever. -Mile after mile fled away, and still there was no abatement in the -wonderful living mechanism of which the spring and elasticity seemed -exhaustless. The sensation was so exquisite that you dreaded to -terminate it. When at length you drew rein, it was, so to speak, with -the tears in your eyes. - -Then the safety of this miraculous performance. You were on a horse that -never was known to shy or bolt, and that _could not_ fall down. Nature -had otherwise provided. With such a balance of forehand, he may have at -rare intervals struck his hoof against root or stone, clod or other -obstacle, but trip, blunder, fall—these were words and deeds wholly -outside of his being. With legs of iron, and hoofs that matched them -well, never once did I know Dermot to be lame during all the years of -our acquaintance. - -Fortunately for me, and for society generally, he was not quite fast -enough for promotion to a racing stable. He was thus enabled to elude -the turf dangers and so pass his life in a sphere where he was loved and -respected as he deserved. - -With regard to his stamina. I rode him a distance of seventy miles one -day, being anxious to get home, during the last ten miles of which he -waltzed along with precisely the same air and manner as in the -morning—with thirteen stone up, too. In addition to other qualities, he -was an uncommonly good feeder: would clear his rack conscientiously, and -eat all the oats you would give him. I never knew him to be tired, or -met any one that had heard of his being seen in that condition. - -His graceful, high-bred air, his large, mild eye and intelligent -expression, warranted one in crediting him with the perfect temper which -indeed he possessed. So temperate was he, that the lady whose palfrey he -habitually was (as such, beyond all earthly competition) was in the -habit of sending him along occasionally at top speed in company, -confident in her ability to stop him whenever she had the inclination. - -He was utterly free from vice, either in the stable or out of it. But, -if uniformly gentle, he was always gay and free—that most difficult -combination to secure in a lady's horse. An angel enclosed in -horse-hide, such was 'Dear Dermot.' The doctrine of metempsychosis alone -can account for such a consensus of virtues—an equine prodigy, a wonder -and a miracle. Generations may roll by before such another hackney -treads Australian turf. We are not of the school which decries the -horses, the men also, of the present day. There are, there must be now, -as good horses, as gallant youths, as ever new or old lands produced. -But Dermot—may he rest in peace!—was a _very_ exceptional composition. -And I must be pardoned for doubting whether, as a high-caste -saddle-horse, I shall ever again see his equal. - - - - - THE STORY OF AN OLD LOG-BOOK - - -Notwithstanding our share in New Guinea and the debateable land of the -New Hebrides, besides the proposed cession of Santa Cruz, the Sydney of -'the thirties' wore the look of being more in touch with the South Sea -Islands and the Oceanic realm generally, than at present. The wharves -were redolent of the wild life of The Islands and the mysterious land of -the Maori. Weather-beaten sailing-vessels showed a sprinkling of swarthy -recruits, whose dark faces, half strange, half fierce, were mingled with -those of their British crews. Hull and rigging bore silent testimony to -the wrath of wind and wave. There were whale-ships returning in twelve -months with a full cargo of sperm oil, or half empty after a three -years' cruise, as the adventure turned out. - -Schoolboys were fond of loitering about among them, wondering at the -harpoons, lances, and keen-edged 'whale spades,' at the masses of -whalebone and spermaceti, or the carved and ornamental whales' teeth, of -which Jack always had a store. - -In the forecastle of one ship might be seen the tattooed lineaments and -grim visage of a Maori; from another would peer forth the mild, -wondering gaze of a Fijian. Bows and arrows (the latter presumably -poisoned), spears, clubs, and wondrous carved idols were the principal -curios, nearly always procurable. - -The whale fishery was at that time a leading industry. Sperm oil figured -noticeably among the first items of our export trade. Merchants made -advances for the outfit and all necessaries of the adventure, trusting -in many instances for repayment to the skill, courage, and good faith of -the commander. No doubt losses were incurred, but the lottery was -tempting. The profits must have been considerable. Sperm oil, before the -discovery of gas or petroleum, was worth eighty or ninety pounds per -ton. A large 'right whale' was good for eighty barrels, eight barrels -going to the tun. He was a fish worth landing. To get back to the ship, -even after hours of hard pulling and the chance of a stove boat, towing -a monster worth nearly £1000, was exciting enough. - -The crew, like shearers of the present day, were proverbially hard to -manage. They did not receive wages, but a share in the net profits—a -'lay,' as it was called. The ship was, in fact, a floating co-operative -society. This did not prevent them—for human nature is weak—from -committing acts distinctly opposed to the spirit as well as the letter -of the agreement. They got drunk when they had the chance. They -occasionally mutinied. They resisted the mate and defied the captain. -They proposed to take savage maidens for their dusky brides, and to live -lives devoid of care in The Islands. It strikes landsmen as a curiously -dangerous and anxious position for a captain, who had to confront a -score or two of reckless seamen with the aid only of the officers of the -ship. Yet it was done. The peril dared, the ship saved, and order -restored time after time, by the resolute exercise of one strong will -and the half-instinctive yielding of the seamen to the mysterious power -of legal authority. - -Before me as I write are the well-kept and regularly-entered pages of a -whale-ship's log-book, the record of a voyage from Sydney harbour over -the Southern main, which bears date as far back as April 1833. In that -year again sailed the stout barque, which had done so well her part in -bringing us safely to this far new land. Her course lay through the -coral reefs and Eden-seeming islands of the Great South Sea; along the -storm-swept coast of New Zealand; among the cannibals of New Ireland and -New Britain; among the as yet half-unknown region of the Solomon Islands -and Bougainville Group. As to the dangers of such a voyage, one incident -of the strange races that people these isles of Eden is sufficiently -dramatic. A boat's crew had pulled over to an inviting looking beach -within the coral ring for the purpose of watering. As the boat touched -the beach, stem on, one of the crew sprang ashore with the painter in -his hand. A cry escaped him and the crew simultaneously, as he sank to -his neck in a concealed pit, a veritable _trou-de-loup_. He hung on to -the rope fortunately, and so pulled himself up and into the boat again. - -Not a native was in sight. But the treacherous pitfalls being probed and -laid bare, the intention was manifest. A line of holes was discovered in -the sands, nine or ten feet in depth, cone-shaped and sloping to a -narrow point, where were placed sharp-pointed, hard-wood stakes, the -ends having been charred and scraped. Sharp as lance-heads, they would -have disabled any seaman luckless enough to fall in, especially in -latitudes where Jack prefers to go barefooted. Forewarned, walking -warily, and 'prospecting' any dangerous-looking spot, they succeeded in -unmasking all or nearly all of these man-traps, into which the ambushed -natives expected them to fall. They were ingeniously constructed: the -top covered with a light frame of twigs and grass, sand being sprinkled -over all. Any ordinary crew would have been deceived. - -When they reached the village they found the property of a boat's crew, -who had been surprised or betrayed. One piece of evidence after another -came to light. Last of all, the oars, on the blades of which were marks -of blood-stained fingers closed in the last grasp which the ill-fated -mariner was to give. - -Righteous indignation succeeded this gruesome discovery. A wholesale -burning of the town and canoes was ordered. A shower of arrows was sent -after the departing boat, as the murder isle was quitted with a distinct -sense of relief. It is not improbable that similar experiences have been -repeated during the last few years. In those days the 'labour trade' did -not exist, and to 'black-birding' was no scale of profit attached. - -There is a pathetic simplicity about this unvarnished record of perilous -adventure, after the close of half a century. One looks reverently upon -the yellow pages which photograph so minutely the daily life of the -floating microcosm. The course, the winds, the storms, the calms, the -days of failure and good fortune! The huge sea-beast harpooned and half -slain, yet cunning to 'sound' deeply enough to pay out all the line, or, -the iron 'drawing,' finally to elude capture altogether. Then again what -a day of triumph when the hieroglyph show six whales killed and 'got -safely alongside.' Midnight saw the boilers still bubbling and hissing; -the tired crew with four-and-twenty hours' severe work before them, -after, perhaps, half a day's hard pulling in the exciting chase. - -Then out of the endless waste of waters rises the lovely shape of the -fairy isle. 'Mountain, and valley, and woodland'—a paradisal climate; a -friendly, graceful, simple race, reverencing the stranger whites, with -their big canoe and loud reverberating fire-weapons; or, on the other -hand, sullen and ferocious cannibals, sending flights of poisoned arrows -from their thickets, or surrounding the ship with a swarm of canoes, -full of hostile savages, eager to climb her deck to slay and plunder -unchecked. - -It is characteristic, perhaps, of the greater simplicity of manners, and -steadfast inculcation of the religious observances of that era, that on -board the ship referred to, Divine service was regularly performed on -each recurring Sunday. If whales were sighted, however, the boats were -lowered; and on one Sunday afternoon two whales were killed. It was -obviously a part of the unwritten code of salt-water law that whales -were not to be allowed to escape under _any_ circumstances, upon -whatever days they were sighted by the look-out man. As it was tolerably -certain that the ship would be more than once in jeopardy from hostile -attacks, a few guns and carronades were mounted; boarding-nettings were -not, I presume, overlooked. The old Ironsides' maxim, 'Trust in -Providence and keep your powder dry,' was in effect a strictly observed -precaution. - -How strange it seems to think of the altered conditions made by the -passing away of a generation or two! Cold is now the hand which traced -the lines I view; stilled the hot blood and eager soul of him who -commanded the ship—a born leader of men if such there ever was. - -Of the crew that toiled early and late at sea, through sun and -storm,—that drank and caroused and fought and gambled on shore when -occasion served,—how small the chance that any one now survives! - -With reference to the Solomon Group, which has been visited by many a -vessel since the barque safely steered her course through shoal and -reef, insidious currents and treacherous calm, matters seem to have been -much about the same as at present. At some islands the natives were -simple and friendly; at others, sullen and treacherous, ready at all -times for an attack if feasible; merciless and unsparing when the hour -came. - -To refer to the Log-book. - -'_Monday, July 22, 1833._—At Bougainville; several canoes came off, -trading for cocoa-nuts and tortoise-shell. - -'_Monday, July 29._—Beating along the coast of New Georgia. Canoes came -off; traded for cocoa-nuts and tortoise-shell. Shipped Henry Spratt, who -left the _Cadmus_ last season. [A bad bargain, as future events showed.] - -'_August 8._—Sent the boats ashore at Sir Charles Hardy's island. At 7 -P.M. boats returned, having purchased from the natives, who were very -friendly, a quantity of cocoa-nuts and a pig. Discovered an extensive -harbour on the west side. - -'_September 4._—Sent boats ashore at New Ireland; natives particularly -friendly. - -'_Saturday, October 5._—Bore away for the harbour of Santa Cruz. At 2 -P.M. cast anchor in thirty fathoms, one mile from shore. There an -adventure befell which altered existing relations. - -'_Sunday, October 6._—Sent casks on shore and got them filled with -water. Next day got two rafts of water off, and some wood. Purchased a -quantity of yams from the natives. - -'_Tuesday, October 8._—Hands employed in wooding, watering, and stowing -away the holds. The natives made an attack on the men while watering, -and wounded one man with an arrow. Brought off natives' canoes, and made -an attack on their town, which was vigorously contested. Another of the -ship's company severely wounded. All hands employed getting ready for -sea. - -'_Wednesday, October 9._—At 4 A.M. began to get under weigh. Discharged -the guns at hostile village. Men in canoes shot their arrows at the -ship. Volley returned. - -'_October 19_, 1 P.M.—Henry Stephens, seaman, died of tetanus, in -consequence of a wound inflicted by a native of Santa Cruz with an -arrow. The burial-service read over him before the ship's company. -Strong winds and high seas at midnight. - - His midnight requiem, mariner's fitting dirge, - Sung by wild winds and wilder ocean surge. - -The author of _The Western Pacific and New Guinea_ (Mr. H. H. Romilly) -states in that most interesting work, that in September 1883 a -Commission was appointed by M. Pallu de la Barrière, then Governor of -New Caledonia, to inquire into the nature of the arrows, commonly -reported to be poisoned, so much in use among the natives of the -surrounding islands. - -The conclusions arrived at (Mr. Romilly states) by the Commission are -only what were to be expected. 'It has long been known to me, and to -many other men in the Pacific who have studied the question, that the -so-called poison was, if not exactly a harmless composition, certainly -not a deadly one. Of course, ninety per cent of the white men trading in -the Pacific believe, and will continue to believe, in the fatal effects -of poisoned arrows. The Santa Cruz arrow, usually considered the most -deadly, is very small, commonly about two feet in length, while the New -Hebrides arrows are much heavier, capable of inflicting a mortal wound -on the spot. Carteret, more than a hundred years ago, was attacked by -the natives of Santa Cruz. Of the ten men hit, three died from the -severe nature of their wounds. No mention is made of tetanus. If any of -his men had died from so remarkable and terrible a disease, Carteret -could hardly have failed to mention the fact.' - -With all due respect and deference to Mr. Romilly, we must take the -liberty of siding in opinion with the 'ninety per cent of white men -trading in the Pacific,' and believe that the arrows _are_ poisoned—are -deadly and fatal, even when only a scratch is produced. The deaths of -the unknown sailor, Henry Stephens, sixty-seven years ago, and of the -late lamented Commodore Goodenough recently, _both from tetanus_, surely -constitute a marvellous coincidence. It is hard to believe that nervous -predisposition was the proximate cause of tetanus in two persons so -widely dissimilar in mind, station, and education. Carteret's three -seamen possibly died from the same seizure; though, having many other -things to attend to, the ancient mariner failed to record the fact. - -In addition to the excitement of killing and losing their whales, being -wrecked on a coral reef or hit with poisoned arrows, our mariners were -fated not to run short of dramatic action in the shape of mutiny. - -This was how it arose and how it was quelled:— - -'_Thursday, September 1883, off New Ireland._—At 4 P.M. calm, the ship -being close under the land and driving rapidly, with a strong current, -farther inshore. The captain ordered the starboard bow boat to be -lowered for the purpose of towing the vessel's head round in such a -position that the current might take her on the starboard bow, and cause -her to drift off shore. The boat was consequently lowered, and the mate -ordered Henry Spratt to take the place of one of the boat's crew, who -was at that moment on the foretop-gallant masthead looking out for -whales. Spratt refused to do so, saying that he didn't belong to any -boat, and that it was his watch below. He continued to disobey the -repeated orders of the mate till the matter was noticed by the captain, -who called out, "Make that man go in the boat," when he at length did -so, but in an unwilling manner and muttering something which was not -distinctly heard. - -'On the boat being hoisted up, the captain addressed Spratt in the most -temperate manner on the subject of his insubordination, and warned him -as to his future conduct. - -'Spratt became insulting in his manner and remarks, and ended by defying -his superior officers and forcibly resisting the mate's attempt to bring -him from the poop to the main deck for the purpose of being put in -irons. While the irons were preparing, he bolted forward, and evading -every attempt to secure him, stowed himself below in the forecastle. The -crew evincing a strong disposition to support this outrageous conduct, -the captain armed himself and his officers, and ordered the chief mate -to bring Spratt from below. He refused peremptorily, and struck the mate -several blows, attempting to overpower him and gain possession of his -sword. After receiving two or three blows with the flat of the sword, he -was, with the assistance of the third mate, conveyed on deck and made -fast to the main-rigging. - -'While the prisoner was being made fast, the greater part of the crew -came aft in the most mutinous and tumultuous manner, exclaiming against -his being flogged, and questioning the captain's right to do so. - -'They were ordered forward, and some of them (Murray in particular) -showing a disposition to disobey and force themselves aft, the captain -found it necessary to strike them with the flat of his sword, and to -draw a rope across the deck parallel with the mainmast, warning the crew -to pass it at their peril. - -'The captain then, calling his officers around him, instituted a trial, -and the whole of Spratt's conduct being calmly considered, he was -unanimously sentenced to three dozen lashes. - -'One dozen was immediately inflicted, and the prisoner was then asked if -he repented of his misconduct, and would faithfully promise obedience -for the remainder of the period that he should be permitted to remain on -board. This promise being given, and the greatest contrition being -expressed, he was unbound, and the remainder of his sentence commuted. -As, however, he was considered a dangerous character, orders were issued -that he should be treated as a prisoner (having the liberty of the deck -abaft the mainmast) till he could be landed at New Georgia (the island -from which he shipped), or elsewhere, if he thought fit.' - -This _émeute_, which might have ended easily enough in a second Mutiny -of the _Bounty_,—or as _did_ happen when the crew of a whale-ship threw -the captain overboard on the coast of New Zealand,—having been quelled -by the use of strong measures promptly applied, the ordinary course of -events went on uninterruptedly. On September 8 (Sunday, as it happened) -two whales were killed. The canoes came off and hailed as usual. A -violent gale seems to have come on directly the boiling was finished. -They were alternately running under close-reefed topsails, wearing ship -every four hours, being at 5 P.M. close under the high land under Cape -St. Mary. Pumps going every watch, sea very high, ship labouring -heavily—then close to Ford's Group. The gale lasted from Monday to the -following Friday at midnight. One fancies that from the 'captain bold' -downwards, they must have had 'quite a picnic of it.' - -Spratt was what is known to South Sea mariners as a 'beach-comber'—one -of a proverbially troublesome class of seamen. He had, probably, left -the _Cadmus_ for no good reason. However, the treatment seems to have -cured him, as on September 1 we find the entry:—'Returned Spratt to his -duty at his own request, he having promised the utmost civility, -attention, and obedience. Fresh breeze and head sea till midnight,' etc. - -On Saturday, April 27, 1833, the good teak-built barque cleared the -Sydney Heads, outward bound, and on Saturday, May 10, 1834, at 4 P.M., -saw the heads of Port Jackson, and at midnight entered, with light winds -from north-east. - -'_Sunday, May 11, 1834._—Calm; the boats towing the ship up harbour. -Pilot came on board. [They had come in without one—such a trifling bit -of navigation, after scraping coral reefs by the score and being close -inshore, with strong current setting in, not being worth considering.] -At 5 P.M. came to anchor abreast of batteries. Most of the hands went -ashore.' - -And here, as 'Our Jack's come home again,' let us conclude this story of -an old Log-book. - - - - - A KANGAROO SHOOT - - -Another month has passed. The calendar shows that the midwinter is over, -and still the much-dreaded New England cold season has not asserted -itself. Such weather as we have had in this last week of June has been -mild and reassuring. Certes, there have been days when the western blast -bit shrewdly keen, and ordinary garments afforded scant protection. In -the coming spring there may be wrathful gales, sleet and hail—snow, -even. We must not 'hollo till we are out of the wood.' - -In the meantime it is not displeasing to see a trifle of mud -again—marshes filling with their complement of water; to hear the -bittern boom and the wild drake quack in the reed-bordered pool,—sights -and sounds to which I have been a stranger for years and years. - -The showers have refreshed the long-dry fallows, and a goodly breadth of -wheat is now looking green and well-coloured. But to-day I marked three -ploughs in one field, availing of the favourable state of tilth. The -ordinary processes of a country neighbourhood are in full swing. Loads -of hay, top-heavy and fragrant, meet you from time to time upon the -metalled highway. A pony-carriage passes, much as it might do in the -narrow lanes of Hertfordshire or Essex. The straggling briar and -hawthorn hedges have been trimmed lately. All things savour strongly of -the old land, from which the district takes its name. As in England, the -guns are now in use and request; and amid my peregrinations it chances -that I fall upon a custom of the country, which is partly of the nature -of work and partly of play. - -Yes, it is a kangaroo drive or battue—a measure rendered necessary by -the persistent multiplication of these primeval forms, and their -tendency to eat and destroy grass, out of all proportion to the value of -their skins. - -To this gathering I am bidden, and gratefully promise to keep tryst, -divining that certain of the neighbours and notables will attend, with -wives and daughters in sufficient abundance to warrant a dance after the -sterner duties of the day. - -And while on the subject of sport and recreation, how little is there -worthy of the name in the country districts of Australia. Fishing is -there none, or bait fishing at the best; hunting is a tradition of our -forefathers; shooting, an infrequent pleasure. Since the introduction of -the railway many of the ordinary travelling roads have been practically -deserted. The well-tried friend or the agreeable stranger no longer -halts before the hospitable homestead; months may pass before any social -recreation takes place in the sequestered country homes which were wont -to be so joyous. But just at the exact period when such resources were -strained, the too prolific marsupial has come to the rescue. He it is -who now poses as the rescuer of distressed damsels, and _ennuyées -châtelaines_, wearying of solitary sweetness as of old; and yet he is -classed by reckless utilitarians and prosaic legislators as a noxious -animal! Behold us, then, a score of horsemen gaily sallying forth from a -station of the olden time,—one of those happy, hospitable dwellings, -where, whatever might be the concourse of guests, there was always room -for one more,—well mounted, and mostly well armed with the deadly -chokebore of the period. The day is cloudy and overcast; but no -particular inconvenience is apprehended. The majority of the party are -of an age lightly to regard wind or weather. The conversation is free -and sportive. Compliments, more or less equivocal, are exchanged as to -shooting or horsemanship, and a good deal of schoolboy frolic obtains. -Dark hints are thrown out as to enthusiastic sportsmen who blaze away -regardless of their 'duty to their neighbour,' and harrowing details -given of the last victim at a former 'shoot.' - -As we listen to these 'tales for the marines,' uncomfortable thoughts -will suggest themselves. We recall the grisly incident in _The -Interpreter_; when at a 'wild-schutz' the Prince de Vochsal's bullet -glides off a tree-stem and finds a home in Victor De Rohan's gallant -breast. Might such a _contretemps_ occur to-day? Such things are always -on the cards. May not even the rightful possessor of this susceptible -heart be widowed ere this very eve, and the callow Boldrewoods be -rendered nestless? No matter! One can but die once. It won't be quite so -hot as Tel-el-kebir. Even there survivors returned. So we shake up our -well-tried steed, shoulder the double-barrel, and ruffle it with the -rest, serene in confidence as to the doctrine of chances. - -And now after three or four miles' brisk riding o'er hill and dale—the -country in these parts may certainly be described as undulating—we come -upon a line of recently 'blazed' trees. These are half-way between a -ravine or gully, and the crest of a range, to which it runs parallel. As -the first man reaches a marked tree, he takes his station, the next in -line halting as he comes to the succeeding one. The distances between -are perhaps seventy or eighty yards, and each man stands sheltered on -one side of his tree-trunk. The number of guns may be some ten or -fifteen. The beaters, horsemen also, have gone forward some time since, -and our present attitude is one of expectation. - -In about ten minutes a sound as of galloping hoofs is heard upon the -western side, of ringing stockwhips, shouts and yells, then nearer still -the measured 'thud, thud' which tells of the full-grown marsupial. Bang -goes a gun at the end of the line; the battle has begun. A curious -excitement commences to stir the blood. It is not so much unlike the -real thing. And a line of skirmishers in close quarters with an enemy's -vedette would be posted like us, and perhaps similarly affected by the -first crackling fire of musketry. Two more shots right and left nearer -to our position; then half-a-dozen. A volley in our immediate -neighbourhood raises expectation and excitement to the highest pitch. -'May Allah protect us! There is but one Prophet,' we have but time to -ejaculate, and lo! the marsupial tyrant of our flocks and herds is upon -us in force. Here they come, straight for our tree, seven or eight of -all sizes, from the innocent 'joey' to the grim ancient, 'the old man,' -in the irreverent vernacular of the colonists. - -Now is our time. We step bravely from behind our tree and bang into the -patriarch's head and shoulders, as for one moment he arrests his mad -career in wild astonishment at our sudden apparition. - -He staggers, but does not fall. _Habet_, doubtless; but the -half-instinctive muscular system enables him to carry off the balance of -a cartridge of double B. - -As the affrighted flock dashes by, we wheel and accommodate the next -largest with a broadside. It is more effective; a smashed hind-leg -brings down the fur-bearing 'noxious animal,' which lies helpless and -wistful, with large, deer-like eyes. A smart fusilade to the left -reveals that the fugitives have fallen among foes in that direction. - -The small arms being silent, we quit our trees, each man scalps his -victims, giving the _coup-de-grâce_ to such of the wounded as need a -quietus. No quarter is given—neither age nor sex is spared. Even the -infants, those tender weaklings the 'joeys,' are not saved. It is the -horrible necessity of war—a war for existence. As thus: If the kangaroo -are allowed to live and multiply, our sheep will starve. We can't live -if they don't. Ergo, it is our life and welfare against Marsupial -Bill's, and he, being of the inferior race, must go under. - -One wonders whether this doctrine will be applied in the future to -inferior races of men. As the good country of the world gets taken up, I -fear me pressure will be brought to bear by the all-absorbing -Anglo-Saxons, Teutons, and Slavs upon the weaker races. Wars of -extermination have been waged ere now in the history of the world. They -may be yet revived, for all we can predicate from existing facts. - -As we go down the line the scalps are collected in a bag. We are thus -enabled to compare notes as to success. One gentleman has five kangaroos -lying around him; he is not certain either whether an active neighbour -has not done him out of a scalp. The collecting business having been -completed, a move is made for the horses, hung up out of danger, and -another paddock is 'driven' with approximate results. - -A good morning's work has been done, and a sufficiency of bodily -exercise taken by one o'clock, at which time a move is made towards a -creek flat, where on the site of a deserted sheep-station, with yards -proper, of the olden time, a substantial picnic lunch is spread. -Appetites of a superior description seem to be universal, and a season -of hearty enjoyment succeeds to that of action. - -The spot itself might well have stood for the locality sketched in -Lindsay Gordon's unpublished poem. Strange that the poetic gift should -enable the possessor to invest with ideal grace a subject so apparently -prosaic and homely as a deserted shepherd's hut. - - Can this be where the hovel stood? - Of old I knew the spot right well; - One post is left of all the wood, - Three stones lie where the chimney fell. - - Rank growth of ferns has well-nigh shut - From sight the ruin of the hut; - There stands the tree where once I cut - The M that interlaced the L. - What more is left to tell? - -As we were converging towards this spot before lunch, the smart shot of -the gathering was made. A forester kangaroo, demoralised by the abnormal -events of the day, came dashing up towards the party. He wheeled and -fled as we met, and a snap shot but staggered him. Then one of the party -dropped the reins on his horse's neck, and with a long shot rolled him -over, dead as a rabbit. - -A succession of 'drives' make a partial clearance of each paddock, all -being taken in turn. The short winter day, accented by heavy showers in -the afternoon, begins to darken as we ride homewards, damp but -hilarious. The day had been successful on the whole. Plenty of fun, -reasonable sport, manly exercise, and a fair bag. Nearly a hundred legal -'raisings' of 'h'ar' prove that the average has been over ten head per -gun. Dry clothes, blazing fires, a warm welcome and sympathetic -greetings, await us on arrival. The advantage of bearing trifling -discomfort, to be compensated by unwonted luxury, presents itself to -every logical mind. The dinner was a high festival, where mirth reigned -supreme; while the ball in the evening—for had not all dames and -demoiselles within twenty miles been impressed for the occasion?—fitly -concluded the day's work with a revel of exceptional joyousness. - -If there be a moral connected with this 'study in Black and White' it -must be that while most people (excepting the advocates for the -abolition of capital punishment) admit that it is a good and lawful deed -to clear the 'noxious' marsupial off the face of the earth, we trust -that the process will not be so swift as to bring speedily to an end -such enjoyable gatherings,—these sociable murder parties, wherein -business and pleasure are happily conjoined, as in the battue at which I -had the happiness to be present. - - - - - FIVE MEN'S LIVES FOR ONE HORSE - - -'Yes; it does seem a goodish price to pay for a half-bred mare—worth ten -pound at the outside,' said old Bill, the cook for the rouseabouts at -Jergoolah Station, one wet evening, as the men gathered round the fire -after supper, with their pipes in their mouths. It had been wet for -three days, so there was no shearing. Very little work for the other men -either—half a hundred strong—as the wet-fleeced sheep were best left -alone. The shearers were sulky of course. They were eating (and paying -for) their own rations. But the ordinary 'pound-a-week men,' whose -board, with lodging, was provided for them gratis, were philosophically -indifferent to the state of the weather. - -'I don't care if it rains till Christmas,' remarked a dissipated-looking -youth, who had successfully finished a game of euchre with a dirty pack -of cards and an equally unclean companion. 'It's no odds to us, so -long's the creeks don't rise and block us goin' to the big smoke to blue -our cheques. I don't hold with too much fine weather at shearin' time.' - -'Why not?' asked his late antagonist, staring gloomily at the cards, as -if he held them responsible for his losses. - -'Why not?' repeated the first speaker; ''cause there's no fun in -watchin' of bloomin' shearers makin' their pound and thirty bob a day -while we can't raise a mag over three-and-six—at it all hours like so -many workin' bullocks, and turned out the minute shearin's over, like a -lot of unclaimed strangers after a cattle muster.' - -'Why did ye come here at all?' asked a tall, broad-shouldered -'corn-stalk' from the neighbourhood of Penrith; 'nobody asked yer. There -was plenty for the work afore you struck in. It's you town larrikins -that spoil the sheds—blackguardin' and gamblin' and growlin' from -daylight till dark. If I was the boss I'd set bait for ye, same's the -dingoes.' - -'You shut up and go home to yer pumpkin patch,' retorted the -card-player, with sudden animation. 'You Sydney-siders think no one can -work stock but yourselves. You've no right this side of the -Murrumbidgee, if it comes to that; and I'd make one of a crowd to start -you back where you come from, and all your blackleg lot.' - -'Put up your hands, you spieler!' said the New South Wales man, making -one long stride towards the light-weight, who, standing easily on guard, -appeared in no way anxious to decline the combat. - -'Come, none of that, you Nepean chap,' said a good-humoured, -authoritative voice; 'no scrappin' till shearin's over, or I'll stop -your pay. Besides, it's a daylight start to-morrow morning. I've a -paddock to clear, and the glass is rising. The weather's going to take -up.' This was the second overseer, whose word was law until the -'cobbler' was shorn, and the last man with the last sheep left the shed -amid derisive cheers. After a little subdued 'growling,' the combatants, -there being no grog to inflame their angry passions, subsided. - -'What's that old Bill was sayin' about horses and men's lives? I heard -it from outside,' demanded the centurion. 'Any duffing going on?' - -'Why, Joe Downey passed the remark,' made answer a wiry-looking 'old -hand,' then engaged in mending one of his boots so neatly that he might -have passed for a journeyman shoemaker, had it not been an open secret -that he had learned the trade within the walls of a gaol, 'that if a man -was to "shake" a horse here and ride him into Queensland, he'd never be -copped.' - -'Oh, he wouldn't, eh? And why did Bill get his hair off?' - -'Well, Bill he says, "You're a d—d young fool," says he. "I've seen -smarter men than you lose their lives over a ten-pound 'oss—yes, and -bring better men to the same end."' - -'But he said something about five men,' persisted the overseer. 'What -did he mean by that?' - -'What did I mean by that?' said the old man, who had now drawn nearer, -in stern and strident tones. 'Why, what I say. It's God's truth, as I -stand here, and the whole five of 'em's now in their graves—as fine a -lot of men, too, as ever you see—all along of one blasted mare, worth -about two fivers, and be hanged to her!' - -The old man's speech had a sort of rude eloquence born of earnestness, -which chained the attention of the variously composed crowd; and when -Mr. Macdonald, the overseer, said, 'Come, Bill, let's have it. It's a -lost day, and we may as well hear your yarn as anything else before -turn-in time,' the old man, thus adjured, took his pipe out of his -mouth, and seating himself upon a three-legged stool, prepared to -deliver himself of a singular and tragic experience. - -William James, chiefly referred to as 'old Bill,' was a true type of the -veritable 'old hand' of pre-auriferous Australia. Concerning an early -voyage to Tasmania he was reticent. He referred to the period -ambiguously as 'them old times,' when he related tales of mystery and -fear, such as could have only found place under the _régime_ of forced -colonisation. No hirsute ornament adorned his countenance. Deeply -wrinkled, but ever clean-shaved, it was a face furrowed and graven, as -with a life-record of the darker passions and such various suffering as -the human animal alone can endure and live. Out of this furnace of -tribulation old Bill had emerged, in a manner purified and reformed. He -gave one the impression of a retired pirate—convinced of the defects of -the profession, but regretful of its pleasing episodes. Considered as a -bush labourer, a more useful individual to a colony did not live. Bill -could do everything well, and do twice as much of it as the less -indurated industrialist of a later day. Hardy, resourceful, tireless, -true to his salt, old Bill had often been considered by the sanguine or -inexperienced employer an invaluable servant. And so in truth he was, -until the fatal day arrived when the 'cheque fever' assailed him. Then, -alas! 'he was neither to hand nor to bind.' No reason, interest, promise -or principle had power to restrain him from the mad debauch, when for -days—perhaps for weeks—all semblance of manhood was lost. - -However, he was now in the healthful stage of constant work—well fed, -paid and sheltered. Cooking was one of his many accomplishments: in it -he excelled. While, despite his age, his courage and determination -sufficed to keep the turbulent 'rouseabouts' in order. In his leisure -hours he was prone to improve the occasion by demonstrating the folly of -colliding with the law—its certain victory, its terrible penalties. And -of the gloomy sequel to a solitary act was the present story. - -'I mind,' he began—pushing back the grey hair which he wore long and -carefully brushed—'when I was workin' on a run near the Queensland -border. It's many a long year ago—but that says nothin'; some of you -chaps is as young and foolish as this Jack Danvers as I'm a-goin' to -tell ye about. Well, some of us was startin' a bit of a spree like, -after shearin'; we'd all got tidy cheques; some was goin' one way and -some another. Jack and his mate to Queensland, where they expected a big -job of work. Just as we was a-saddlin' up—some of us had one neddy, some -two—a mob of horses comes by. I knew who they belonged to—a squatter not -far off. Among 'em was a fine lump of a brown filly, three year old, -half bred, but with good action. - -'"That's a good filly," says Jack—he'd had a few glasses—"she could be -roped handy in the old cattle-yard near the crick. Lead easy too, 'long -with the other mokes." - -'"Don't be a darned fool, Jack," says I; "there'll be a bloomin' row -over her, you take it from me. She's safe to be missed, and you'll be -tracked up. D—n it all, man," says I, "what's a ten-pound filly for a -man to lose his liberty over? If it was a big touch it might be -different." - -'"You're a fine cove to preach," says he, quite savage. The grog had got -into his head, I could see. "Mind your own —— business." I heard his -mate (he was a rank bad 'un) say something to him, and they rode away -steady; but the same road that the "mob" had gone. I went off with some -other chaps as wer' inside having a last drink, and thought no more -about Jack Danvers and the brown filly till nigh a year after. Then it -come out. The filly'd been spotted, working in a team, by the man that -bred her. The carrier bought her square and honest; had a receipt from a -storekeeper. They found the storekeeper in Queensland; he'd bought her -from another man. "What sort of a man?"—"Why, a tall, good-looking chap, -like a flash shearer." Word went to the police at Warwillah. It was Jack -Danvers of course; they'd suspected him and his mate all the time. - -'Well, Jack was nabbed, tho' he was out on a Queensland diggin' far -enough away. But they sent up his description from the shed we'd left -together, and he was brought down in irons, as he'd made a fight of it. -The storekeeper swore to him positive as the man that had sold him the -brown J.D. filly—old Jerry Dawson's she was. The jury found him guilty -and he got three years. - -'Now I'm on to the part of the play when the "ante-up" comes in. You -mind me, you young fellers, it _always does_ sooner or later. He'd no -call to shake that filly. I said so then, and I say so now. And what -come'd of it? Listen and I'll tell you—_Death_ in five chapters—and so -simple, all along of an unbroke filly! - -'Now Jack wa'n't the man to stop inside of prison walls if he could help -it. He and another chap make a rush one day, knock over the warder and -collar his revolver. Another warder comes out to help; Jack shoots him -dead, and they clear. _Man's life number one._ Big reward offered. They -stick up a roadside inn next. Somebody gave 'em away. Police waitin' on -'em as they walk in—dead of night. Soon's they see the police, Jack -shoots the innkeeper, poor devil! thought he'd sold 'em. _Man's life -number two._ Jack and his mate and the police bang away at each other at -close quarters—trooper wounded—Jack shot dead—mate wounded, dies next -day. _Men's lives number four._ - -'Who gave the office to the police and collared the blood-money? Friend -of Jack's, a pal. Five hundred quid was too much for him. What became of -_him_? Job leaked out somehow—friends and family dropped him. The money -did him no good. Took to drinking straight ahead, and died in the -horrors within the year. _Men's lives number five._ - -'Yes; he was the fifth man to go down. Two pound apiece their lives -fetched! They're in their graves because Jack Danvers was a d—d fool, -and when he was young, strong, good-looking and well-liked, must go and -duff a man's mare out of sheer foolishness. He didn't see what was to -come of it, or he'd 'a cut off his right hand first. But that's the way -of it. We don't see them things till it's _too late_. But mark my words, -you young chaps as has got all the world before you—take a fool's -advice. _It don't pay to "go on the cross"_—never did; and there's no -one has cause to know it better than old Bill James.' - -'By George!' said the overseer, 'that's the best yarn I have heard for a -year. And if the parson preaches a better sermon when he holds service -in the woolshed next Sunday, I'll be surprised.' - - - - - REEDY LAKE STATION - - -The Post-office clock in Bourke Street, Melbourne, is about to strike -six, in the month of June 1858. At this 'everlastingly early hour A.M. -in the morning' (as remarked by Mr. Chuckster), I am the box-passenger -of Cobb's coach, _en route_ for Bendigo. The team of greys stand -motionless, save for a faint attempt to paw on the part of the near-side -leader. The first stroke vibrates on high. Mr. Jackson, with an -exclamation, tightens his 'lines.' The six greys plunge at their -collars, and we are off. - -There was no Spencer Street terminus in those days. We were truly -thankful to King Cobb. I, for one, was glad to get over a hundred miles -of indifferent road in a day—winter weather, too. We did not grumble so -comprehensively as latter-day travellers. - -Remembered yet, how, when we came to the long hill at Keilorbridge, the -driver let his horses out when half-way down. The pace that we went 'was -a caution to see.' The wheel-spokes flew round, invisible to the naked -eye. The coach rocked in a manner to appal the nervous. The horses lay -down to it as if they were starting for a Scurry Stakes. But it was a -good piece of macadam, and we were half-way up to the next hill before -any one had time to think seriously of the danger. - -Nobody, of course, would have dared to have addressed the driver upon -the subject. In those flush days, when both day and night coaches loaded -well, when fares were high and profits phenomenal, he was an autocrat -not to be lightly approached. It almost took two people to manage a -communication—one to bear the message from the other. Silent or laconic, -master of his work in a marvellous degree, he usually resented light -converse, advice infuriated him, and sympathy was outrage. - -The roads were bad, even dangerous in places. Muddy creeks, bush-tracks, -sidelings, washed-out crossings, increased the responsibilities and -tried the tempers of these pioneer sons of Nimshi. Men of mark they -mostly were. Americans to a man in that day, though subsequently -native-born Australians, acclimatised Irishmen, and other recruits of -merit, began to show up in the ranks. - -I remember the astonishment of a newly-arrived traveller at seeing -Carter, a gigantic, fair-bearded Canadian, coming along a baddish road -one wet day, with seven horses and a huge coach, containing about fifty -Chinamen. How he swayed the heavy reins with practised ease, his three -leaders at a hand-gallop; how he piloted his immense vehicle through -stumps and ruts, by creek and hillside, with accuracy almost miraculous -to the uninitiated. - -Mr. Carter was not a 'man of much blandishment.' I recall the occasion, -when a spring having gone wrong, he was, with the assistance of a -stalwart passenger, silently repairing damage. A frivolous insider -commenced to condole and offer suggestions in a weakly voluble way. 'Go -to h—l,' was the abrupt rejoinder, which so astonished the well-meaning -person, that he retreated into the coach like a rabbit into a burrow, -and was silent for hours afterwards. - -One always had the consciousness, however, that whatever could be done -by mortal man, would be accomplished by them. Accidents might happen, -but they belonged to the category of the inevitable. - -One dark night, near Sawpit Gully, a tire came off. Al. Hamilton (poor -fellow! he was killed by an upset in New South Wales afterwards) was off -in a minute; found his way to the smith's house; had him back in an -inconceivably short time; left word for us to get the fire lighted and -blown up—it was cold, and we thought that great fun; and before another -man would have finished swearing at the road, the darkness, and things -in general, the hammer was clinking on the red-hot tire, the welding was -progressing, and in three-quarters of an hour we were bowling along much -as before. We had time to make up, and did it too. But suppose the -blacksmith would not work? Not work! He was Cobb and Co.'s man—that is, -he did all their 'stage' repairs. Well he knew that the night must be to -him even as the day when their humblest vehicle on the road needed his -aid. As a firm they went strictly by results and took no excuses. If a -man upset his coach and did damage once, he was shifted to another part -of the line. If he repeated the accident, he was dismissed. There was no -appeal, and the managing body did not trouble about evidence after the -first time. If he was negligent, it served him right. If he was unlucky, -that was worse. - -The journey to Bendigo was accomplished at the rate of nine miles an -hour, stoppages included. It was midwinter. The roads were deep in -places. It was therefore good-going, punctual relays, and carefully -economised time, which combined to land us at Hefferman's Hotel before -darkness had set in. As usual a crowd had collected to enjoy the great -event of the day. - -Bendigo was in that year a very lively town, with a population roused to -daily excitement by fortunes made or lost. Gold was shovelled up like -sugar in bankers' scoops, and good money sent after bad in reckless -enterprise, or restored a hundredfold in lucky ventures. - -Here I was to undergo a new experience in company with Her Majesty's -Mails. - -As I rather impatiently lingered outside of Hefferman's after breakfast -next morning, an unpretending tax-cart, to which were harnessed a pair -of queer, unmatched screws, drove up to the door. 'German Charlie'—his -other name I never knew—driver and contractor, informed me that I was -the only passenger, lifted my valise, and the talismanic words 'Reedy -Creek' being pronounced, vowed to drop me at the door. He had always -parcels for Mr. Keene. This gentleman's name he pronounced with bated -breath, in a tone of deepest veneration. - -Beyond all doubt would I be landed there early on the morrow. - -I mounted the Whitechapel, saw my overcoat and valise in safely, and, -not without involuntary distrust, committed myself to Charlie's tender -mercies. He gave a shout, he raised his whip—the off-side horse made a -wild plunge; the near-side one, blind of one eye, refused to budge. Our -fate hung on the balance apparently, when a man from the crowd quietly -led off the unwilling near-side, and we dashed away gloriously. The pace -was exceptional, but it was evidently inexpedient to slacken speed. We -flew down the main street, and turned northward, along a narrow track, -perilously near to yawning shafts, across unsafe bridges, over race -channels; along corduroy roads, or none at all, our headlong course was -pursued. The sludge-invaded level of Meyer's Flat is passed. Bullock -Creek is reached, all ignorant of reservoirs and weirs, and a relay of -horses driven in from the bush is demanded. - -A smart boy of fourteen had the fresh team, three in number, ready for -us in the yard. He felt it necessary to warn us. They 'were not good -starters, that was a fact.' The statement was strictly correct. One -horse was badly collar-galled, one a rank jib. The leader certainly had -a notion of bolting; his efforts in that direction were, however, -neutralised by the masterly inactivity of his companions. After much -pushing, persuasion, and profane language, we effected a departure. - -That the pace was kept up afterwards may be believed. Sometimes the -harness gave way, but as the shaft and outrigger horses were by this -time well warmed, they did not object to again urge on their wild -career. - -We stopped at the 'Durham Ox Inn' that night, then a solitary lodge in -the wilderness, a single building of brick, visible afar off on the -sea-like plain, which stretched to the verge of the horizon. Woods -Brothers and Kirk had at that time, if I mistake not, just concluded to -purchase Pental Island from Ebden and Keene, but were debating as to -price. The pasture seemed short and sparse, after the deep, rich western -sward, but overtaking a 'mob' of Messrs. Booth and Argyle's cattle -farther on, I felt satisfied as to its fattening qualities. Each cow, -calf, steer, and yearling in the lot was positively heaped and cushioned -with fat. They looked like stall-fed oxen. And this in June! I thought I -saw then what the country could do. I was correct in my deduction, -always supposing the important factor of _rain_ not to be absent. Of -this, in my inexperience, I took no heed. In my favoured district there -was always a plentiful supply; sometimes, indeed, more than was -agreeable or necessary. - -Kerang was passed; Tragowel skirted; Mount Hope, then in the occupation -of Messrs. Griffith and Greene, reared its granite mass a few miles to -the south. As Sir Thomas Mitchell stood there, gazing over the -illimitable prairie, rich with giant herbage and interspersed but with -belts and copses of timber, planted by Nature's hand, the veteran -explorer exclaimed with a burst of enthusiasm, 'Australia Felix! This is -indeed Australia Felix!' - -Steady stocking and an occasional dry season had somewhat modified the -standard of the nutritive grasses and salsolaceous plants, at this point -advantageously mingled. But that the country was superlative in a -pastoral point of view may be gathered from the fact that, upon my first -visit to the homestead a few weeks afterwards, I saw five thousand -weaners—the whole crop of lambs for the previous year—_shepherded in one -flock_. Very fine young sheep they were, and in excellent condition. Of -course it was on a plain, but, unless the pasturage had been -exceptional, no shepherd could have kept such a number together. - -Later in the afternoon my Teutonic conductor, who had been going for the -last twenty miles like the dark horseman in Burger's ballad, pulled up -at Reedy Lake Head Station. There dwelt the resident partner and -autocrat of his district, Mr. Theophilus Keene. - -I saw a slight, fair man with an aquiline nose, a steady grey eye, and -an abundant beard, who came out of a neat two-roomed slab hut and -greeted me with polished courtesy. 'He was extremely glad to see me. He -had looked forward to my coming this week in terms of a letter he had -received from Messrs. Ryan and Hammond, but, indeed, had hardly expected -that I would trust myself to their mail.' - -Mr. Keene, whom I saw then for the first time, was probably verging on -middle age, though active and youthful in appearance, above the middle -height, yet not tall—of a figure inclined indeed to spareness. He -impressed me with the idea that he was no commonplace individual. - -He carried nothing of the bushman about his appearance, at home or in -town, being careful and _soigné_ as to his apparel, formal and somewhat -courtly in his address. He scarcely gave one the idea of a dweller in -the waste; yet the roughest experiences of overlanding squatter-life, of -a leader of the rude station and road hands, had been his. He looked -more like a dandy Civil Servant of the upper grades. Yet he was more -than a pioneer and manager—an astute diplomatist, a clever -correspondent, an accurate accountant. The books of the Reedy Lake -Station were kept as neatly as those of a counting-house. The overseer's -sheep-books, ration accounts, and road expenses were audited as -correctly as if in an office. The great station-machine revolved easily, -and, though unaided by inventions which have smoothed the path of -latter-day pastoralists, was a striking illustration of successful -administration. - -This large and important sheep property, as it was held to be in those -primeval times, had considerably over 150,000 sheep on its books. Reedy -Lake stood for the whole, but Quambatook, Murrabit, Lake Boga, Liegar, -Pental Island and other runs were also comprised within its boundaries. -These were separate communities, and were, upon the subdivision of the -property, sold as such. These were worked under the supervision of -overseers and sub-managers, each of whom had to render account to Mr. -Keene—a strict one, too—of every sheep counted out to the shepherds of -the division in his charge. - -Mr. Ebden, erstwhile Treasurer of Victoria and for some years a member -of Parliament, was the senior partner. He had sagaciously secured Mr. -Keene, then wasting his powers on the Lower Murray, by offering him a -third share of the property, with the position of resident partner and -General Manager. Mr. Ebden, residing in Melbourne, arranged the -financial portion of the affairs, while Mr. Keene was the executive -chief, with almost irresponsible powers, which he used unreservedly—no -doubt about that. - -This was the day, let it be premised, of 'shepherding,' pure and simple. -There were, in that district at least, no wire fences, no great -enclosures, no gates, no tanks. Improvements, both great and small, were -looked upon as superfluous forms of expensiveness. To keep the shepherds -in order, to provide them with rations and other necessaries, to see -that they neither lost the sheep nor denied them reasonable range,—these -were the chief duties of those in authority. And tolerably anxious and -engrossing occupation they afforded. - -Thus the great Reedy Lake Head Station, always mentioned with awe, north -of the Loddon, was not calculated to strike the stranger with amazement -on account of its buildings and constructions, formed on the edge of the -fresh-water lake from which it took its name. The station comprised Mr. -Keene's two-roomed hut aforesaid; also a larger one, where the -overseers, young gentlemen, and strangers abode—known as The Barracks; -the kitchen, a detached building; the men's huts, on the shore of the -lake, at some considerable distance; an inexpensive, old-fashioned -woolshed might be discerned among the 'old-man salt-bush' nearly a mile -away; a hundred acre horse-paddock, surrounded by a two-railed sapling -fence; a stock-yard—_voilà tout_; there was, of course, a store. These -were all the buildings thought necessary for the management of £150,000 -worth of sheep in that day. How different would be the appearance of -such a property now! - -The special errand upon which I had journeyed thus far was to inspect -and, upon approval, to accept an offer in writing, which I carried with -me, of the Murrabit Station, one of the subdivisions of the Reedy Lake -property, having upon it sixteen thousand sheep and _no improvements -whatever_, except the shepherds' huts and a hundred hurdles. The price -was £24,000—one-third equal to cash, the remainder by bills extending -over three years. - -The tide of investment had set in strongly in the direction of sheep -properties, near or across the Murray. I had followed the fashion for -the purpose, presumably, of making the usual fortune more rapidly than -through the old-fashioned medium of cattle. To this end it was arranged -that Mr. Keene and I, with one of the overseers whom I had known -previously, should on the morrow ride over and inspect the Murrabit -country and stock, lying some twenty miles distant from Reedy Lake. - -It is held to be bad form in Bushland to mount an intending purchaser -badly. It is unnecessary to say that it was not done in this case. No -detail was omitted to produce a state of cheerful self-complacency, -suited to the distinguished rôle of guest and buyer. When Mr. Keene's -famous pony Billy, an animal whose fame was heralded in two colonies, -and from the Loddon to the Murrumbidgee, was led forth, I felt I was -indeed the favoured guest. He certainly was 'the horse you don't see -now,' or, if so, very very rarely. Neat as to forehand, with a round rib -and powerful quarter, fast, easy, and up to weight, he was difficult to -match. The area from Kerang northwards was known as 'salt-bush' country. -But little grass showed except on the edges of watercourses. Bare -patches of red sandy loam between the salsolaceous plants did not lead -the early explorers to consider it first-rate pasturage. Varieties, -however, were plentiful, from the 'old-man salt-bush,' seven to ten feet -high, to the dwarf-growing but fattening plants on the plain. The -cotton-bush, too, known to indicate first-class fattening country, was -plentiful. Perhaps the best testimony to the quality of the herbage, -however, and which I was sufficiently experienced to appreciate, was the -uniform high health and condition of every flock of sheep that we saw. -Nothing could be finer than their general appearance, as indeed is -always the case in reasonably-stocked salt-bush country; no foot-rot, no -fluke, and, _absit omen_, no sheep-scab. This dire disease was then, -unhappily, common in Western Victoria. It had been a fair season. -Everything was fit to bear inspection. The wether flock looked like -donkeys for size, the breeding ewes were fit for market, the weaners -precociously fat and well-grown. Nothing could look better than the -whole array. - -Besides the salt-bush country, plains chiefly, and a large dry lake, -there was an important section of the run known as 'The Reed-beds,' -which I was anxious to visit. This tract lay between Lake Boga, a large -fresh-water lake on one side, the Murrabit, an anabranch, and the south -bank of the Murray. In order to ride over this it was arranged that we -should camp at the hut of a shepherd, known as 'Towney,' on Pental -Island, thence explore the reed-beds and see the remaining sheep on the -morrow. - -Pental Island, formed by the Murrabit, a deep wide stream, which leaves -the main river channel and re-enters lower down, we found to be a long, -narrow strip of land, having sound salt-bush ridges in the centre, with -reed-beds on either side. Crossing by a rude but sufficient bridge, we -discovered Mr. 'Towney' living an Alexander Selkirk sort of life, -monarch of all he surveyed, and with full charge of some ten or twelve -thousand sheep turned loose. The bridge being closed with hurdles, they -could not get away. His only duty was to see that no enterprising dingo -swam over from Murray Downs on the opposite side and ravaged the flock. - -The night was cloudless and starlit, lovely in all aspects, as are -chiefly those of the Riverina—an absolutely perfect winter climate. The -strange surroundings, the calm river, the untroubled hush of the scene, -the chops, damper, and tea, all freshly prepared by Towney, were -enjoyable enough. After a talk by the fire, for the night air was cool, -and a smoke, we lay down on rugs and blankets and slept till dawn. Our -entertainer was dejected because he had not a Murray cod to offer us. -'If we had only come last week.' 'Tis ever thus. - -That day's ride showed me the reed-beds in the light of sound, green, -quickly-fattening pastures. At one angle of the Murrabit, on _my_ -run—for my run, indeed, it was destined to be—there were two flocks of -sheep, five thousand in all, of which the shepherds and hut-keeper -inhabited the same hut. It was managed thus. One flock was camped on the -northern side of the bridge, one on the other. The hut-keeper, long -disestablished, but then considered an indispensable functionary, cooked -for both shepherds. £30 a year with rations was the wage for the -shepherds; £25 for the hut-keeper. - -Then there was a frontage of, perhaps, a mile and a half to the southern -end of Lake Boga. This noble fresh-water lake, having shelving, sandy -shores, is filled by the rising of the Murray. On the bluff, to the -right of the road to Swan Hill, was a curious non-Australian cottage, -built by Moravian missionaries, and situated upon a reserve granted to -them by the Government of Victoria. These worthy personages, becoming -discouraged at the slow conversion of the heathen, or deeming the -_locale_ unsuitable, sold their right and interest to Messrs. Ebden and -Keene. I decided to place the head station close by, and there, I -suppose, it is at the present day. - -A picturesque spot enough. Northward the eye ranged over the broad, -clear waters of the lake, now calm in the bright sunshine, now lashed -into quite respectable waves by a gale. Eastward, over a wide expanse of -reed-bed, dead level and brightly green, you traced the winding course -of the great river by the huge eucalypti which lined its banks. Around -was the unending plain, on which the salt-bushes grew to an unusual -size, while across the main road to Melbourne, fenced off by the -horse-paddock of the future, was a cape of pine-scrub, affording -pleasing contrast to the wide, bare landscape. - -We returned to Reedy Lake that evening, and before I slept was the -contract signed, accepting price and terms; signed in high hope, and -apparently with a fair prospect of doubling the capital invested, as had -done many another. Had I but known that this particular indenture, -freely translated, _should have run thus_:— - - * * * * * - -'I hereby bind myself to take the Murrabit Run and stock at the price -agreed, and to lose in consequence every farthing I have ever made, -within five years from this date. - - '(Signed) R. BOLDREWOOD.' - - * * * * * - -Why can't one perceive such results and consequences now and then? Why -are so many of the important contracts and irrevocable promises of life -entered into during one's most sanguine, least reflective period? Will -these questions ever be answered, and where? Still, were the veil -lifted, what dread apparitions might we not behold! 'Tis more mercifully -arranged, be sure. - -Thus we entered with a light heart into this Sedan business, much -undervaluing our Prussians. After visiting Melbourne, it was arranged -that delivery of stock and station should be taken within a specified -time. - -I didn't know much about sheep then; what a grim jest it reads like -_now_! I had leisure for reflection on the subject in the aftertime. I -judged it well to leave the apportioning of the flocks to my host and -entertainer. He did far better for me than I could have done myself. I -had every reason to be satisfied with the quality of the sixteen -thousand instruments of my ruin. There was a noble flock of fat wethers, -three thousand strong; for the rest, 'dry' ewes, breeders, weaners, -two-tooths, were all good of their sort. After engaging one of the -overseers, a shrewd, practical personage, I considered the establishment -of my reputation as a successful wool-grower to be merely a question of -time. - -The Fiend is believed to back gamblers at an early stage of their -career. It looked as if His Eminence gave my dice a good shake _pour -commencer_. The first sale was brilliant: the whole cast of fat sheep to -one buyer (at the rate of £1 each for wethers, and 15s. for ewes)—over -six thousand in all. They were drafted, paid for, and on their way to -Melbourne in the afternoon of the day on which the buyer arrived. The -lambing was good; the wool sold at a paying price, considering the -primitive style of washing. Next year, of course, all this would be -altered. Meanwhile I surveyed the imprint 'R.B.' over Murrabit on the -wool-bales with great satisfaction. - -'But surely,' says the practical reader, 'things were going well; -season, prices, increase satisfactory. How did the fellow manage to make -a mull of it?' There _were_ reasons. The cost of a run bought 'bare' is -unavoidably great. Huts, yards, woolshed, homestead, paddock, -brushyards, lambers, washers, shearers, all cost money—are necessary, -but expensive. The cheque stream was always flowing with a steady -current, it seemed to me. Fat stock, too, the great source of profit in -that district, gradually declined in price. Interest and commission, -which amounted to 12½ per cent or more, in one way and another, -gradually told up. In 1861 an unprecedented fall took place in cattle, -such as had not been felt 'since the gold.' Beeves fell to the price of -stores. Buyers could not meet their engagements. The purchaser of my -cattle-station in Western Victoria was among these. He was compelled to -return it upon my hands after losing his cash deposit. Thus seriously -hampered, the finale was that I 'came out' without either station or a -shilling in the world. What was worse, having caused others to suffer -through my indebtedness. - -The Murrabit was then sold, well improved, though not fenced, with -twenty thousand good sheep on it, at £1: 5s. per head—£25,000—nearly the -same price at which I had purchased; but with four thousand more sheep, -and costly improvements added, including a woolshed which had cost £500. -The new purchaser paid £10,000 down, and I was sorry to hear afterwards -lost everything in about the time it had taken me to perform the same -feat. But he had, I believe, the expense of fencing—an economical luxury -then so impossible for a squatter to deny himself. In addition to this, -that terrible synonym of ruin, sheep-scab, broke out in the district, -and in time among the Murrabit sheep. This, of course, necessitated -endless expenditure in labour, dressing-yards, dips, and what not. No -further explanation is needed by the experienced as to why my equally -unlucky successor went under. - -Talking of scab—now a tradition in Australia—it was then plentiful in -Victoria, with the exception of certain favoured districts, among which -the trans-Loddon country was numbered. Now in the days when Theophilus -was king, foreseeing the ruin of the district (or chiefly, perhaps, to -Ebden and Keene) which would ensue should the disease get a footing, he -fought against its introduction, either by carelessness or greed, with -all the vigilant energy of his nature. - -There are men of contemplation, of science, of culture, of action. My -experience has been that these qualities are but rarely united in the -same individual. This may be the reason why 'Government by Talk' often -breaks down disastrously—the man who can talk best being helpless and -distracted when responsible action is imminent. This by the way, -however. Mr. Keene did not dissipate his intelligence in the -consideration of abstract theories. He never, probably, in his life saw -three courses open to him. But in war time he struck hard and promptly. -In most cases there was no need to strike twice. - -Touching the scab pestilence, this is how he 'saved his country.' -Primarily he put pressure upon his neighbours, until they formed -themselves into a league, offensive and defensive. They did not trust to -the Government official, presumably at times overworked, but they paid a -private Inspector £200 a year, furnishing him also with serviceable -horses and free quarters. - -This gentleman—Mr. Smith, let us call him—an active young Australian, -kept the sharpest look-out on all sheep approaching the borders of the -'Keene country.' He summoned the persons in charge if they made the -least infraction of the Act, examined the flock most carefully for -appearances of disease, and generally made life so unpleasant, not to -say dangerous, for the persons in charge, that they took the first -chance of altering their route. If there was the faintest room for -doubt, down came Keene, breathing threats and slaughter. And only after -the most rigid, prolonged inspection were they allowed to pass muster. -Why persons selfishly desired to carry disease into a clean district may -be thus explained. Store sheep—especially if doubtful as to perfect -cleanliness—were low in price in Western Victoria. Near to or across the -New South Wales border they were always high. If, therefore, they could -be driven to the Murray, the profits were considerable. No doubt such -were made, at the risk of those proprietors through whose stations they -passed. A _single sheep_ left behind from such a flock, after weeks -likely to 'break out' with the dire disease, might infect a district. -Mr. Keene had fully determined that 'these accursed gains' should not be -made at _his_ expense. - -One day he received notice from Mr. Smith that a lot of five thousand -sheep of suspicious antecedents was approaching his kingdom. They were -owned by a dealing squatter, who, having country both clean and -doubtful, made it a pretext for travelling sheep, picked up in small -numbers. 'From information received' just ere they had entered the clean -country, Mr. Keene appeared with a strong force, with which he took -possession of them under a warrant, obtained on oath that they were -presumably scabby, had them examined by the Government official, who -found the fatal acarus, obtained the necessary authority, _cut their -throats, and burned the five thousand to the last sheep_. - -After this holocaust, remembered to this day, it became unfashionable to -travel sheep near the Reedy Lake country. He 'who bare rule over all -that land' rested temporarily from his labours. They were not light -either, as may be inferred from a statement of one of his overseers to -me that about that time, from ceaseless work in the saddle, anxiety, and -worry, he had reduced himself to an absolute skeleton, and from -emaciation could hardly sit on his horse. Nothing, perhaps, but such -unrelenting watch and ward could have saved the district from infection. -But he won the fight, and for years after, not, indeed, until Theophilus -I. was safe in another hemisphere, did marauders of the class he so -harried and vexed dare to cross the Loddon northwards. As soon as the -normal state of carelessness and 'nobody's business' set in (Mr. Smith -having been discontinued), the event foreseen by him took place. The -district became infected, and Reedy Lake itself, Murrabit, and other -runs, all suffered untold loss and injury. Rabbits came in to complete -the desolation. What with Pental Island being advertised to be let by -tender in farms, dingoes abounding in the mallee, free selectors -swarming from Lake Charm to the Murray, irrigation even being practised -near Kerang, if Mr. Keene could return to the country where once he -could ride for forty miles on end requiring any man he met to state what -he was doing there, he would find himself a stranger in a strange land. -Without doubt he would take the first steamer back to England, hastening -to lose sight and memory of a land so altered and be-devilled since the -reign of the shepherd kings. Of this dynasty I hold 'Theophilus the -First' to have been a more puissant potentate during his illustrious -reign than many of the occupants of old-world thrones. - - - - - A FORGOTTEN TRAGEDY - - -It is difficult for the inhabitants of settled districts in Australia, -where the villages, surrounded by farms or grazing estates, are now as -well ordered as in rural England, to realise the nature of outrages -which, in earlier colonial days, not infrequently affrighted these -sylvan shades. It is well, however, occasionally to recall the sterner -conditions under which our pioneers lived. The half-explored wilds saw -strange things, when _émeutes_ with murder and robbery thrown in -compelled decisive action. In the year 1836 immense areas in the -interior, described officially as 'Waste Lands of the Crown,' were -occupied by graziers under pastoral licenses. Caution was exercised in -the granting of these desirable privileges. It was required by the -Government of the day that only persons of approved good character -should receive them. Being merely permissive, they were liable to be -withdrawn from the holders for immoral or dishonest conduct. When it is -considered that the men employed in guarding the flocks and herds in -these limitless solitudes were, in the great majority of cases, -prisoners of the Crown, or 'ticket-of-leave' men, whose -partially-expired sentences entitled them to quasi-freedom, it is not -surprising that horse-and cattle-stealing, highway robbery, -ill-treatment of aboriginals, and even darker crimes were rife. - -The labourers of the day were composed of three classes, officially -described as free, bond, and 'free by servitude.' This last designation, -obscure only to the newly-arrived colonist, meant that the individual -thus privileged had served his full term of imprisonment, or such -proportion of it as entitled him to freedom under certain restrictions. -He was permitted to come and go, to work for any master who chose to -employ him (and most valuable servants many of them were), to accept the -wages of the period, and generally to comport himself as a 'free man.' -But he was restricted to a specified district, compelled at fixed -periods to report himself to the police authorities, and he went in fear -lest at any time through misconduct or evil report his 'ticket-of-leave' -might be withdrawn, in which case he was sent back to penal servitude. -The alternative was terrible. The man who the week before had been -riding a mettled stock-horse amid the plains and forests of the -interior, or peacefully following his flocks, with food, lodging, and -social privileges, found himself virtually a slave in a chain-gang, -dragging his heavy fetters to and fro in hard, distasteful labour. This -deposition from partial comfort and social equality, though possibly -caused by his own misconduct, occasionally resulted from the report of a -vindictive overseer, or betrayal by a comrade. It may be imagined, -therefore, what vows of vengeance were registered by the sullen convict, -what bloody expiation was often exacted. - -Taking into consideration the ludicrous disproportion of the police -furnished by the Government of the day to the area 'protected'—say a -couple of troopers for a thinly-populated district about the size of -Scotland—it seems truly astonishing that malefactors should have been -brought to justice at all. Even more so that armed and desperate felons -should have been followed up and arrested within comparatively short -distances of the scene of their misdeeds. - -It says much for the alertness and discipline of the mounted police -force of the day that in by far the greater number of these outrages the -criminals were tracked and secured; more, indeed, for the active -co-operation and public spirit of the country gentlemen of the land, who -were invariably ready to render aid in carrying out the law at the risk -of their lives, and, occasionally, to the manifest injury of their -property. - -Circumstances have placed in my hands the record of a murder which, in -careful premeditation, as well as in the satanic malignity with which -the details were carried out, seems pre-eminent amid the dark chronicles -of guilt. - -More than sixty years ago Mr. Thursby, a well-known magistrate and -proprietor, residing upon his station, which was distant two hundred and -fifty miles from Sydney, was awakened before daylight, when a note to -this effect from the constable in charge at the nearest police-station -was delivered to him:— - -'Last night the lock-up was entered by armed men, and two prisoners -removed. One man knocked at the door, stating that he was a constable -with a prisoner in charge. I opened it; when two men rushed in, one of -whom, presenting a pistol at me, ordered me into a corner, and covered -my head with a blanket. I heard the door unlocked. When I freed myself -the cell was empty.' - -Upon receipt of this information, Mr. Thursby despatched a report to the -Officer in charge of Police at Murphy's Plains, distant eighty-five -miles. Taking with him the manager of a neighbouring station, and the -special constable quartered there (a custom of the day), Mr. Thursby -started in pursuit of the outlaws. Their tracks were not hard to follow -in the dew of early morn, but near Major Hewitt's station, seven miles -distant, they became indistinct. After losing much time the station was -reached, and here a black boy was fortunately procured. With his aid the -trail was regained, and followed over rough, mountainous country. Mr. -Jones, the manager who had accompanied the party, informed Mr. Thursby -that five of the convict servants assigned to the owner had run away -previously—'taken to the bush.' They had committed depredations, and had -been unsuccessfully followed by the mounted police, whose horses, after -coming more than eighty miles, were fagged. However, two of them -surrendered themselves next day. One man (Driscoll) was suspected of -having spoken incautiously of the leader's doings (a man named Gore), -who had vowed vengeance accordingly. Driscoll had been placed in the -lock-up, along with Woods, a suspicious character, who said he was a -native of Windsor, New South Wales. Gore and the other men were still at -large. - -After leading the party for some distance through the ranges, the black -boy halted, and pointing to a thin thread of smoke, barely perceptible, -said, 'There 'moke!' When they came to the fire from which it proceeded, -what a spectacle presented itself! On the smouldering embers was a human -body, bound and _partially roasted_. It lay on its back, with legs and -arms drawn up. The middle portion of the body was burned to a cinder, -leaving the upper and lower extremities perfect. Mr. Thursby recognised -the features of the man called Woods, who had been imprisoned the day -before. The black boy was so horrified that he became useless as a -tracker, and as the day was far advanced, Mr. Thursby had the body -removed to Engleroi, a station not more than a mile distant. - -Here fresh information was furnished. The tragedy deepened. Before -daylight on the previous morning, Driscoll had knocked at the door of -the shepherd's hut, breathless and half insane with terror, imploring -them for the love of God to admit him as 'he was a murdered man.' -Nothing more could be elicited from the shepherds, though it since -appeared that they could have named one of the murderers. Fear of the -'Vehmgericht' of the day doubtless restrained them—fear of that terrible -secret tribunal, administered by the convicts as a body, which in -defiance of the law's severest penalties tried, sentenced, and in many -cases _executed_, the objects of their resentment. The party decided -later on to proceed to Mr. FitzGorman's head station, and on the way -arrested and took with them the hut-keeper of the out-station. They did -not know at the time (as was since proved) that he was one of the -murderers. - -On leaving the lock-up, the men had stolen the constable's blue cloth -suit, and being informed at Tongah that a man in blue clothes had been -met with, a few miles down the Taramba River, Mr. Thursby rode forward -with the black boy, leaving the hut-keeper secured, to await his return. -Some time was lost, as the tracks were not picked up at once, but on -reaching Mr. FitzGorman's station, forty miles distant, at midnight, the -man in blue clothes was discovered, housed for the night. He was at once -secured. On being questioned, he said his name was Burns, and that he -was looking for work. He produced a certificate, which did not impose -upon his captor, who knew it to belong to the constable, who, being a -ticket-of-leave man, required to hold such a document. In his bundle, -when searched, several articles taken from the lock-up were found. Gore -the bushranger and murderer stood confessed. - -Mr. Thursby was at that time ignorant that the second murderer was -already in his hands, but determined to follow up the pursuit, caused -Gore to be mounted on one of the station horses, and rode back with as -much speed as might be to Tongah. Suspecting the hut-keeper (whose name -was Walker) of being in some way an accomplice of Gore, Mr. Thursby had -both men lodged in the lock-up. Still unrelaxing in pursuit, and -believing that the second murderer might be one of the three runaways -from Major Hewitt's station, Mr. Thursby raised the country-side, and -took such energetic measures that on the following day they were -apprehended. - -By this time the shepherds, gaining confidence from the capture of the -outlaws, of whose vengeance they went in fear, commenced to make -disclosures. The constable identified the hut-keeper (Walker) as the man -who, at the point of the pistol, ordered him to stand in the lock-up. -Driscoll knew him and Gore as the two men who removed him and Woods from -the lock-up. He then went on to state that, after being hurried along -for several miles after leaving the lock-up, they halted in a lonely -place, where Gore ordered them to make a fire. When it was kindled to a -blaze, Gore tied them back to back and blindfolded them. At this time -Walker held the pistol. Driscoll heard a shot, when Woods dropped on the -fire, dragging him with him. The bandage falling from his eyes, Walker -struck him twice on the head with his pistol. In his agony, getting his -hands free he ran for his life. He was followed for a considerable -distance, but eventually escaped to Engleroi. Half an hour afterwards, -Gore came up in search of him. What must have been the feelings of the -hunted wretch, so lately a bound victim on his self-made funeral pile, -when the armed desperado, who made so little of human life, reappeared? -However, he contented himself with compelling Driscoll and the -shepherds, among whom he was, to swear under tremendous penalties not to -disclose the fact of his presence there. - -Gore and Walker were brought before the nearest Bench of Magistrates and -committed for trial at the next ensuing Assize Court. - -There was not sufficient evidence, though a strong presumption, that the -other runaways were implicated in the cold-blooded murder. It appeared -to have been chiefly arranged by Gore and Walker—the former in order to -be revenged on Driscoll, and the latter to get rid of Woods, who had -threatened to give evidence against him for robbery and other misdeeds. -No doubt their intention was to murder both men, destroying all evidence -by burning their bodies. Driscoll had the good fortune to escape, and -was thus enabled to give the necessary evidence at their trial. But -though not directly implicated in the graver crime, the remaining three -bushrangers—for such they were—lay under the charge of being associated -with Gore in committing depredations which had alarmed the neighbourhood -for the last six or seven weeks. They had not wandered far from the -scene of their freebooting, and after eluding the police on several -occasions, remained to be delivered up to justice by a party of -civilians—headed, it is true, by an experienced and determined -personage, exceptionally well mounted from one of the most famous studs -in New South Wales. In that day the bushranger, desperate and ruthless -though he may have been, was at a disadvantage compared to his modern -imitator. He was mostly on foot. Horses were scarce and valuable. There -were few stopping-places, except the stations of the squatters, where an -armed, suspicious-looking stranger was either questioned or arrested. -'Shanties' had hardly commenced to plant centres of contagion in the -'lone Chorasmian waste.' The 'Shadow of Death Hotel' was in the -future—fortunately for all sorts and conditions of men. - -It is a curious coincidence, showing at once the just view taken of the -circumstances of the locality and the means proper to lead to the -extinction of 'gang robbery' (as the East India Company's servants -termed the industry), that Mr. Thursby had just forwarded to the -Legislative Council an estimate of the cost of a proposed Court of Petty -Sessions at Wassalis. He also 'most respectfully begged to submit for -the consideration of His Excellency the Governor a suggestion that a -mounted police force would be advantageously stationed there, as well -for the protection of the district as for the purpose of connecting the -detachments of police at Murphy's Plains and Curban.' - -'Many a year is in its grave' since the incidents here recorded -affrighted the dwellers in the lonely bush. - -It is satisfactory to note that Wassalis was promoted to be a place -where a Court of Petty Sessions is holden. - -Walker and Gore, being found guilty, were sentenced to death, doubtless -by Sir Francis Forbes, the Chief Justice of the day—indeed the first -Chief Justice of Australia. They confessed their guilt in gaol, and were -duly hanged—let us hope repenting of their crimes. The brother of the -magistrate whose courage and energy led to their arrest, frequently -visited them in gaol, where they confessed everything. The constable, on -recommendation, was promoted. The police station at Wassalis is now -organised and equipped with good horses, smart men, revolver at belt and -carbine on thigh. Telegraphs in every direction are available for giving -or receiving information; but it is doubtful whether armed and desperate -felons, red-handed with the blood of their fellow-men, were ever more -closely followed up, more quickly brought to justice, than the murderers -of Woods. - - - - - THE HORSE YOU DON'T SEE NOW - - -Many years ago I was summoned to attend the couch of a dear relative -believed to be _in extremis_. The messenger arrived at my club with a -buggy, drawn by a dark bay horse. The distance to be driven to Toorak -was under four miles—the road good. I have a dislike to being driven. -Those who have handled the reins much in their time will understand the -feeling. Taking them mechanically from the man, I drew the whip across -the bay horse. The light touch sent him down Collins Street East, over -Prince's Bridge, and through the toll-bar gate at an exceptionally rapid -pace. This I did not remark at the time, being absorbed in sorrowful -anticipation. - -During the anxious week which followed I drove about the turn-out—a -hired one—daily; now for this or that doctor, anon for nurse or -attendant. Then the beloved sufferer commenced to amend, to recover; so -that, without impropriety, my thoughts became imperceptibly disengaged -from her, to concentrate themselves upon the dark bay horse. For that he -was no ordinary livery-stable hack was evident to a judge. _Imprimis_, -very fast. Had I not passed everything on the road, except a -professional trotter, that had not, indeed, so much the best of it? -Quiet, too. He would stand unwatched, though naturally impatient. He -never tripped, never seemed to 'give' on the hard, blue metal; was -staunch up-hill and steady down. Needed no whip, yet took it kindly, -neither switching his tail angrily nor making as if ready to smash all -and sundry, like ill-mannered horses. Utterly faultless did he seem. But -experience in matters equine leads to distrust. Hired out per day from a -livery-stable keeper, I could hardly believe _that_ to be the case. - -All the same I felt strongly moved to buy him on the chance of his -belonging to the select tribe of exceptional performers, not to be -passed over by so dear a lover of horseflesh as myself. Moreover, I -possessed, curious to relate, a 'dead match' for him—another bay horse -of equally lavish action, high courage, and recent accidental -introduction. The temptation was great. - -'I will buy him,' said I to myself, 'if he is for sale, and also if——' -here I pulled up, got down in the road, and carefully looked him over -from head to tail. He stepped quietly. I can see him now, moving his -impatient head gently back and forward like a horse 'weaving'—a trick he -had under all circumstances. Years afterwards he performed similarly to -the astonishment of a bushranger in Riverina, whose revolver was pointed -at the writer's head the while, less anxious indeed for his personal -safety than that old Steamer—such was his appropriate name—should march -on, and, having a nervous running mate, smash the buggy. - -To return, however. This was the result of my inspection. Item, one -broken knee; item, seven years old—within mark decidedly; legs sound and -clean, but just beginning to 'knuckle' above the pasterns. - -There was a conflict of opinions. Says Prudence, 'What! buy a screw? -Brilliant, of course, but sure to crack soon. Been had that way before. -I'm ashamed of you.' - -Said Hope, 'I don't know so much about that. Knee probably an accident: -dark night—heap of stones—anything. Goes like a bird. Grand shoulder. -_Can't_ fall. Legs come right with rest. Barely seven—quite a babe. -Cheap at anything under fifty. Chance him.' - -'I'll buy him—d—dashed if I don't.' I got in again, and drove -thoughtfully to the stables of Mr. Washington, a large-sized gentleman -of colour, hailing from the States. - -'He's de favouritest animile in my stable, boss,' he made answer to me -as I guardedly introduced the subject of purchase. 'All de young women's -dead sot on him—donow's I cud do athout him, noways.' - -Every word of this was true, as it turned out; but how was I to know? -The world of currycombs and dandy-brushes is full of insincerities. -_Caveat emptor!_ I continued airily, 'You won't charge extra for this -broken knee? What's the figure?' Here I touched the too yielding -ankle-joint with my boot. - -That may have decided him—much hung in the balance. Many a year of -splendid service—a child's life saved—a grand night-exploit in a flooded -river, with distressed damsels nearly overborne by a raging torrent,—all -these lay in the future. - -'You gimme thirty pound, boss,' he gulped out. 'You'll never be sorry -for it.' - -'Lend me a saddle,' quoth I. 'I'll write the cheque now. Take him out; I -can ride him away.' - -I did so. Never did I—never did another man—make a better bargain. - -I had partly purchased and wholly christened him to match another bay -celebrity named Railway, of whom I had become possessed after this -fashion. Wanting a harness horse at short notice a few months before, I -betook myself to the coach depôt of Cobb and Co. situated in Lonsdale -Street. Mr. Beck was then the manager, and to him I addressed myself. He -ordered out several likely animals—from his point of view—for my -inspection. But I was not satisfied with any of them. At length, 'Bring -out the Railway horse,' said the man in authority. And out came, as I -thought, rather a 'peacocky' bay, with head and tail up. A great -shoulder certainly, but rather light-waisted—hem—possessed of four -capital legs. Very fine in the skin—yes; still I mistrusted him as a -'Sunday horse.' Never was there a greater mistake. - -'Like to see him go?' I nodded assent. In a minute and a half we were -spinning up Lonsdale Street in an Abbot buggy, across William and down -Collins Street, then pretty crowded, at the rate of fourteen miles an -hour; Mr. Beck holding a broad red rein in either hand, and threading -the ranks of vehicles with graceful ease. - -'He can go,' I observed. - -'He's a tarnation fine traveller, I tell you,' was the answer—a -statement which I found, by after-experience, to be strictly in -accordance with fact. - -The price required was forty pounds. The which promptly paying (this was -in 1860), I drove my new purchase out to Heidelberg that night. One of -those horses that required of one nothing but to sit still and hold him; -fast, game, wiry and enduring. - -When I became possessed of Steamer, I had such a pair as few people were -privileged to sit behind. For four years I enjoyed as much happiness as -can be absorbed by mortal horse-owner in connection with an -unsurpassable pair of harness horses. They were simply perfect as to -style, speed, and action. I never was passed, never even challenged, on -the road by any other pair. Railway, the slower horse of the two, had -done, by measurement, eight miles in half an hour. So at their best, -both horses at speed, it may be guessed how they made a buggy spin -behind them. Then they were a true match; one a little darker than the -other, but so much alike in form, colour, and courage, that strangers -never knew them apart. They became attached readily, and would leave -other horses and feed about together, when turned into a paddock or the -bush. - -A check, however, was given to exultation during the first days of my -proprietorship. Both horses when bought were low in flesh—in hard -condition, certainly, but showing a good deal of bone. A month's -stabling and gentle exercise caused them to look very different. The new -buggy came home—the new harness. They were put together for the first -time. Full of joyful anticipation I mounted the driving seat, and told -the groom to let go their heads. Horror of horrors! 'The divil a stir,' -as he remarked, could be got out of them. Collar-proud from ease and -good living, they declined to tighten the traces. An indiscreet touch or -two with the whip caused one horse to plunge, the other to hold back. In -half-and-half condition I had seen both draw like working bullocks. Now -'they wouldn't pull the hat off your head,' my Australian Mickey Free -affirmed. - -By patience and persuasion I prevailed upon them at length to move off. -Then it _was_ a luxury of a very high order to sit behind them. How they -caused the strong but light-running trap to whirl and spin!—an express -train with the steam omitted. Mile after mile might one sit when roads -were good, careful only to keep the pace at twelve miles an hour; by no -means to alter the pull on the reins lest they should translate it into -an order for full speed. With heads held high at the same angle, with -legs rising from the ground at the same second of time, alike their -extravagant action, their eager courage. As mile after mile was cast -behind, the exclamation of 'Perfection, absolute perfection!' rose -involuntarily to one's lips. - -In this 'Wale,' where deceitful dealers and plausible horses abound, how -rare to experience so full-flavoured a satisfaction! None of us, -however, are perfect all round. Flawless might be their action, but both -Steamer and his friend Railway had 'a little temper,' the differing -expressions of which took me years to circumvent. Curiously, neither -exhibited the least forwardness in _single_ harness. - -Railway was by temperament dignified, undemonstrative, proud. If touched -sharply with the whip he turned his head and gazed at you. He did not -offer to kick or stop; such vulgar tricks were beneath him. But he -calmly gave you to understand that he would not accelerate his -movements, or start when unwilling, if you flogged him to death. No whip -did he need, I trow. The most constant horse in the world, he kept going -through the longest day with the tireless regularity of an engine. - -They never became quite free from certain peculiarities at starting, -after a spell or when in high condition. Years passed in experiments -before I wrote myself conqueror. I tried the whip more than once—I -record it contritely—with signal ill-success. It was truly wonderful why -they declined to start on the first day of a journey. Once off they -would pull staunchly wherever horses could stand. Never was the day too -long, the pace too fast, the road too deep. What, then, was the hidden -cause, the _premier pas_, which cost so much trouble to achieve? - -Nervous excitability seemed to be the drawback. The fact of being -attached to a trap in _double_ harness appeared to overexcite their -sensitive, highly-strung organisations. Was it not worth while, then, to -take thought and care for a pair which could travel fifty or sixty miles -a day—in front of a family vehicle filled with children and luggage—for -a week together, that didn't cost a shilling a year for whip-cord, and -that had _never_ been passed by a pair on the road since I had possessed -them? Were they not worth a little extra trouble? - -Many trials and experiments demonstrated that there was but one -solution. Success meant patience, with a dash of forethought. A little -saddle-exercise for a day or two before the start. Then to begin early -on the morning of the eventful day; to have everything packed—passengers -and all—in the buggy—coach fashion—before any hint of putting to. Both -horses to be fed and watered at least an hour before. Then at the last -moment to bring them out of the stable, heedfully and respectfully, -avoiding 'rude speech or jesting rough.' Railway especially resented -being 'lugged' awkwardly by the rein. If all things were done decently -and in order, this would be the usual programme. - -Steamer, more excitable but more amiable, would be entrusted to a groom. -Silently and quickly they would be poled up, the reins buckled, and -Railway's traces attached. All concerned had been drilled, down to the -youngest child, to be discreetly silent. It was forbidden, on pain of -death, to offer suggestion, much less to 't-c-h-i-c-k.' The reins were -taken in one hand by paterfamilias, who with the other drew back -Steamer's traces, oppressed with an awful sense of responsibility, as of -one igniting a fuse or connecting a torpedo wire, and as the outer trace -was attached, stepped lightly on to the front seat. The groom and helper -stole backward like shadows. Steamer made a plunging snatch at his -collar; Railway followed up with a steady rush; and we were off—off for -good and all—for one hundred, two hundred, five hundred miles. Distance -made no difference to _them_. The last stage was even as the first. They -only wanted holding. Not that they pulled disagreeably, or unreasonably -either. I lost my whip once, and drove without one for six months. It -was only on the first day of a journey that the theatrical performance -was produced. - -But this chronicle would be incomplete without reference to the sad -alternative when the start did _not_ come off at first intention. On -these inauspicious occasions, possibly from an east wind or oats below -sample, everything went wrong. Steamer sidled and pulled prematurely -before the traces were 'hitched,' while Railway's reserved expression -deepened—a sure sign that he wasn't going to pull at all. The other -varied his vexatious plungings by backing on to the whippletree, or -bending outwards, by way of testing the elasticity of the pole. - -Nothing could now be done. Persuasion, intimidation, deception, had all -been tried previously in vain. The recipe of paterfamilias, as to horse -management, was to sit perfectly still with the reins firmly held but -moveless, buttoning his gloves with an elaborate pretence of never -minding. All known expedients have come to nought long ago. Pushing the -wheels, even down hill, is regarded with contempt; leading (except by a -lady) scornfully refused. The whip is out of the question. 'Patience is -a virtue'—indeed _the_ virtue, the only one which will serve our turn. -Meanwhile, when people are fairly on the warpath, this dead refusal to -budge an inch is a little, just a little, exasperating. Paterfamilias -computes, however, that ten minutes' delay can be made up with such -steppers. He smiles benignantly as he pulls out a newspaper and asks his -wife if she has brought her book. Two minutes, four, five, or is it half -an hour? The time seems long. 'Trois cent milles diables!' the natural -man feels inclined to ejaculate. He knows that he is sinking fast in the -estimation of newly-arrived station hands and chance spectators. Eight -minutes—Railway makes no sign; years might roll on before _he_ would -start with an unwilling mate. Nine minutes—Steamer, whose impatient soul -abhors inaction, begins to paw. The student is absorbed in his leading -article. Ten minutes!—Steamer opens his mouth and carries the whole -equipage off with one rush. Railway is up and away; half a second later -the proprietor folds up his journal and takes them firmly in hand. The -children begin to laugh and chatter; the lady to converse; and the -journey, long or short, wet or dry, may be considered, as far as -horseflesh is concerned, to be _un fait accompli_. - -At the end of four years of unclouded happiness (as novelists write of -wedded life), this state of literal conjugal bliss was doomed to end. An -epidemic of lung disease, such as at intervals sweeps over the land, -occurred in Victoria. Railway fell a victim, being found dead in his -paddock. Up to this time he had never been 'sick or sorry,' lame, tired, -or unfit to go. His iron legs, with feet to match, showed no sign of -work. In single harness he was miraculous, going mile after mile with -the regularity of a steam-engine, apparently incapable of fatigue. I was -lucky enough to have a fast, clever grandson of Cornborough to put in -his place. He lasted ten years. A half-brother three years more. The old -horse was using up his _fourth_ running mate, and entering upon his -twentieth year _in my service_, when King Death put on the brake. - -Not the least noticeable among Steamer's many good qualities was his -kindly, generous temper. His was the Arab's docile gentleness with -children. The large mild eye, 'on which you could hang your hat,' as the -stable idiom goes, was a true indication of character. I was a bachelor -when I first became his master. As time passed on, Mrs. Boldrewood and -the elder girls used to drive him to the country town in New South -Wales, near which we afterwards dwelt. The boys rode him as soon as they -could straddle a horse. They hung by his tail, walked between his legs, -and did all kinds of confidential circus performances for the benefit of -their young friends. He was never known to bite, kick, or in any way -offer harm; and, speedy to the last, with age he never lost pace or -courage. 'All spirit and no vice' was a compendium of his character. By -flood and field, in summer's heat or winter's cold, he failed us never; -was credited, besides, with having saved the lives of two of the -children by his docility and intelligence. He was twice loose with the -buggy at his heels at night—once without winkers, which he had rubbed -off. On the last occasion, after walking down to the gate of the -paddock, and finding it shut—nearly a mile—he turned round without -locking the wheels, and came galloping up to the door of the house (it -was a ball night, and he had got tired of waiting). When I ran out, pale -with apprehension, I discovered the headstall hanging below his chest. -His extreme docility with children I attribute to his being for many -years strictly a family horse, exclusively fed, harnessed, and driven by -ourselves. It is needless to say he was petted a good deal: indeed he -thought nothing of walking through the kitchen, a brick-floored edifice, -when he thought corn should be forthcoming. Horses are generally -peaceable with children but not invariably, as I have known of limbs -broken and more than one lamentable death occasioned by kicks, when the -poor things went too near unwittingly. But the old horse _couldn't_ -kick. 'I reckon he didn't know how.' And when he died, gloom and grief -fell upon the whole family, who mourned as for the death of a dear -friend. - - - - - HOW I BEGAN TO WRITE - - -For publication I mean. Having the pen of a ready writer by inheritance, -I had dashed off occasional onslaughts in the journals of the day, -chiefly in defence of the divine rights of kings (pastoral ones). I had -assailed incoherent democrats, who perversely denied that Australia was -created chiefly for the sustenance of sheep and cattle and the -aggrandisement of those heroic individuals who first explored and then -exploited the 'Waste Lands of the Crown.' The school of political belief -to which I then belonged derided agriculture, and was subsequently -committed to a scheme for the formation of the Riverina into a separate -pastoral kingdom or colony. A petition embodying a statement to this -effect, wholly unfitted as it was for the sustenance of a population -dependent upon agriculture, was forwarded to the Secretary for the -Colonies, who very properly disregarded it. The petitioners could not -then foresee the stacking of 20,000 bags of wheat, holding four bushels -each, awaiting railway transport at one of the farming centres of this -barren region in the year 1897. Allied facts caused me to reconsider my -very pronounced opinions, and, perhaps, led others to question the -accuracy of theirs. My deliverances in the journals of the period -occurred in the forties and fifties of the century, and gradually -subsided. - -I was battling with the season of 1865 on a station on the Murrumbidgee -River, at no great distance from the flourishing town of Narandera, then -consisting of two hotels, a small store, and a large graveyard, when an -uncertain-tempered young horse kicked me just above the ankle with such -force and accuracy that I thought the bone was broken. I was to have -ridden at daylight to count a flock of sheep, and could scarcely crawl -back to the huts from the stock-yard without assistance, so great was -the agony. I sat down on the frosted ground and pulled off my boot, -knowing that the leg would swell. Cold as it was, the thirst of the -wounded soldier immediately attacked me. My room in the slab hut, -preceding the brick cottage, then in course of erection, was, to use Mr. -Swiveller's description, 'an airy and well-ventilated apartment.' It -contained, in addition to joint stools, a solid table, upon which my -simple meals of chops, damper, and tea were displayed three times a day -by a shepherd's wife, an elderly personage of varied and sensational -experiences. - -I may mention that the great Riverina region was as yet in its unfenced, -more or less Arcadian stage, the flocks being 'shepherded' (expressive -Australian verb, since enlarged as to meaning) and duly folded or camped -at night. Something of Mrs. Regan's advanced tone of thought may be -gathered from the following dialogue, which I overheard:— - -Shady township individual—'Your man shot my dorg t'other night. What -d'yer do that fer?' - -Mrs. Regan—''Cause we caught him among the sheep; and we'd 'a shot -_you_, if you'd bin in the same place.' - -Township individual—'You seem rather hot coffee, missus! I've 'arf a -mind to pull your boss next Court day for the valley of the dorg.' - -Mrs. Regan—'You'd better clear out and do it, then. The P.M.'s a-comin' -from Wagga on Friday, and he'll give yer three months' "hard," like as -not. Ask the pleece for yer character.' - -Township individual—'D—n you and the pleece too! A pore man gets no show -between the traps and squatters in this bloomin' country. Wish I'd never -seen it!' - -This was by the way of interlude, serving to relieve the monotony of the -situation. I could eat, drink, smoke, and sleep, but the injured -leg—worse than broken—I could not put to the ground. Nor had I company -of any kind, save that of old Jack and Mrs. Regan, for a whole month. -So, casting about for occupation, I bethought myself that I might write -something for an English magazine. The subject pitched upon was a -kangaroo drive or battue, then common in Western Victoria, which I had -lately quitted. The kangaroo had become so numerous that they were -eating the squatters out of house and home. Something had to be done; so -they were driven into yards in great numbers and killed. This severe -mode of dealing with the too prolific marsupial, in whole battalions, I -judged correctly, would be among the 'things not generally known' to the -British public. - -I sat down and wrote a twelve-page article, describing a grand muster -for the purpose at a station about twenty miles from Port Fairy, and -seven miles from my own place, Squattlesea Mere. - -The first time I went to Melbourne I posted it, with the aid of my good -friend, the late Mr. Mullen, to the editor of the _Cornhill Magazine_, -and thought no more about the matter. A few days after the adventure, my -neighbour, Adam M'Neill, of North Yanko, hearing of my invalid state, -rode over and carried me off to his hospitable home. I had to be lifted -on my horse, but after a month's rest and recreation was well enough to -return to pastoral duties. I was lame, however, for quite a year -afterwards, and narrowly escaped injuring the other ankle, which began -to show signs of over-work. About the time of my full recovery, I -received a new _Cornhill Magazine_, and a note from Messrs. Smith and -Elder, forwarding a draft, which, added to the honour and glory of -seeing my article flourishing in a first-class London magazine, afforded -me much joy and satisfaction. The English review notices were also -cheering. I thereupon dashed off a second sketch, entitled 'Shearing in -Riverina,' which I despatched to the same address. The striking -presentment of seventy shearers, all going their hardest, was a novelty -also to the British public. - - The constant clash that the shear-blades make - When the fastest shearers are making play - -(as Mr. 'Banjo' Paterson has it, in 'The Two Devines,' more than twenty -years later), could not but challenge attention. This also was accepted. -I received a cheque in due course, which came at a time when such -remittances commenced to have more interest for me than had been the -case for some years past. - -The station was sold in the adverse pastoral period of '68-'69, through -drought, debt, financial 'dismalness of sorts'; but 'that is another -story.' Christmas time found me in Sydney, where it straightway began to -rain with unreasonable persistency (as I thought), now it could do me no -good; never left off (more or less) for five years. The which, in -plenteousness of pasture and high prices for wool and stock, were the -most fortunate seasons for squatters since the 'fifties,' with their -accompanying goldfields prosperity. - -The last station having been sold, there was no chance of repairing hard -fortune by pastoral investment. 'Finis Poloniæ.' During my temporary -sojourn in Sydney I fell across a friend to whom in other days I had -rendered a service. He suggested that I might turn to profitable use a -facile pen and some gift of observation. My friend, who had filled -various parts in the drama of life, some of them not undistinguished, -was now a professional journalist. He introduced me to his chief, the -late Mr. Samuel Bennett, proprietor of the _Sydney Town and Country -Journal_. That gentleman, whom I remember gratefully for his kind and -sensible advice, gave me a commission for certain sketches of bush -life—a series of which appeared from time to time. For him I wrote my -first tale, _The Fencing of Wanderoona_, succeeding which, _The -Squatter's Dream_, and others, since published in England, appeared in -the weekly paper referred to. - -Thus launched upon the 'wide, the fresh, the ever free' ocean of -fiction, I continued to make voyages and excursions thereon—mostly -profitable, as it turned out. A varied colonial experience, the area of -which became enlarged when I was appointed a police magistrate and -goldfields commissioner in 1871, supplied types and incidents. This -position I held for nearly twenty-five years. - -Although I had, particularly in the early days of my goldfields duties, -a sufficiency of hard and anxious work, entailing serious -responsibility, I never relinquished the habit of daily writing and -story-weaving. That I did not on that account neglect my duties I can -fearlessly aver. The constant official journeying, riding and driving, -over a wide district, agreed with my open-air habitudes. The method of -composition which I employed, though regular, was not fatiguing, and -suited a somewhat desultory turn of mind. I arranged for a serial tale -by sending the first two or three chapters to the editor, and mentioning -that it would last a twelvemonth, more or less. If accepted, the matter -was settled. I had but to post the weekly packet, and my mind was at -ease. I was rarely more than one or two chapters ahead of the printer; -yet in twenty years I was only once late with my instalment, which had -to go by sea from another colony. Every author has his own way of -writing; this was mine. I never but once completed a story before it was -published; and on that occasion it was—sad to say—declined by the -editor. Not in New South Wales, however; and as it has since appeared in -England, it did not greatly signify. - -In this fashion _Robbery Under Arms_ was written for the _Sydney Mail_ -after having been refused by other editors. It has been successful -beyond expectation; and, though I say it, there is no country where the -English language is spoken in which it has not been read. - -I was satisfied with the honorarium which my stories yielded. It made a -distinct addition to my income, every shilling of which, as a -paterfamilias, was needed. I looked forward, however, to making a hit -some day, and with the publication of _Robbery Under Arms_, in England, -that day arrived. Other books followed, which have had a gratifying -measure of acceptance by the English-speaking public, at home and -abroad. - -As a prophet I have not been 'without honour in mine own country.' My -Australian countrymen have supported me nobly, which I take as an -especial compliment, and an expression of confidence, to the effect -that, as to colonial matters, I knew what I was writing about. - -In my relations with editors, I am free to confess that I have always -been treated honourably. I have had few discouragements to complain of, -or disappointments, though not without occasional rubs and remonstrances -from reviewers for carelessness, to which, to a certain extent, I plead -guilty. In extenuation, I may state that I have rarely had the -opportunity of correcting proofs. As to the attainment of literary -success, as to which I often receive inquiries, as also how to secure a -publisher, I have always given one answer: Try the Australian weekly -papers, if you have any gift of expression, till one of them takes you -up. After that the path is more easy. Perseverance and practice will -ordinarily discover the method which leads to success. - -A natural turn for writing is necessary, perhaps indispensable. Practice -does much, but the novelist, like the poet, is chiefly 'born, not made.' -Even in the case of hunters and steeplechasers, the expression 'a -natural jumper' is common among trainers. A habit of noting, almost -unconsciously, manner, bearing, dialect, tricks of expression, among all -sorts and conditions of men, provides 'situations.' Experience, too, of -varied scenes and societies is a great aid. Imagination does much to -enlarge and embellish the lay figure, to deepen the shades and heighten -the colours of the picture; but it will not do everything. There should -be some experience of that most ancient conflict between the powers of -Good and Evil, before the battle of life can be pictorially described. I -am proud to note among my Australian brothers and sisters, of a newer -generation, many promising, even brilliant, performances in prose and -verse. They have my sincerest sympathy, and I feel no doubt as to their -gaining in the future a large measure of acknowledged success. - -As to my time method, it was tolerably regular. As early as five or six -o'clock in the morning in the summer, and as soon as I could see in -winter, I was at my desk, proper or provisional, until the hour arrived -for bath and breakfast. If at a friend's house, I wrote in my bedroom -and corrected in the afternoon, when my official duties were over. At -home or on the road, as I had much travelling to do, I wrote after -dinner till bedtime, making up generally five or six hours a day. Many a -good evening's work have I done in the clean, quiet, if unpretending -roadside inns, common enough in New South Wales. In winter, with a log -fire and the inn parlour all to myself, or with a sensible companion, I -could write until bedtime with ease and comfort. My day's ride or drive -might be long, cold enough in winter or hot in summer, but carrying -paper, pens, and ink I rarely missed the night's work. I never felt too -tired to set to after a wholesome if simple meal. Fatigue has rarely -assailed me, I am thankful to say, and in my twenty-five years of -official service I was never a day absent from duty on account of -illness, with one notable exception, when I was knocked over by fever, -which necessitated sick-leave. It has been my experience that in early -morning the brain is clearer, the hand steadier, the general mental tone -more satisfactory, than at any other time of day. - - - - - A MOUNTAIN FOREST - - -Excepting perhaps the ocean, nothing in Nature is more deceitful than a -mountain forest. Last time we crossed through snow, enveloped in mist -and drenched with pitiless rain. Now, no one could think evil hap could -chance to the wayfarer here—so dry the forest paths, so blue the sky, so -bright the scene, so soft the whispering breeze. The shadows of the -great trees fall on the emerald sward, tempering the ardent sun-rays. -Flickers of light dance in the thickets, and laugh at the stern -solemnity of the endless groves. Bird-calls are frequent and joyous. We -might be roaming in the Forest of Arden, and meet a 'stag of ten' in the -glade, for any hint to the contrary. Forest memories come into our heads -as we stride merrily along the winding track. Robin Hood and his merry -men, Friar Tuck and Little John! Oh, fountain of chivalry! How -indissolubly a forest life in the glad summer days seems bound up with -deeds of high emprise; how linked with the season of love and joy, hope -and pride, with a sparkle of the cup of that divinest life-essence, -youthful pleasure. - - 'Here shall he fear no enemy, - But winter and rough weather.' - -As we thus carol somewhat loudly, we are aware of a man standing -motionless, regarding us, not far from a gate, humorously supposed to -restrain the stock in these somewhat careless-ordered enclosures. Ha! -what if he be a robber? We have been 'stuck up' ere now, and mislike the -operation. He has something in his hand too. May it be a -'shooting-iron,' as the American idiom runs? - -We continue to sing, however, - - 'Viator vacuus coram latronem.' - -Our treasury consists of half-a-sovereign and an old watch, a new hat -and a clean shirt—what matter if he levy on these? He has a dog, -however,—that is a good sign. Bushrangers rarely travel with dogs. And -the weapon is a stick. Ha! it is well. Only an official connected with -the railway line, awaiting the mailman. We interchange courtesies, and -are invited to the camp with proffer of hospitality. We feel compelled -to decline. We may not halt by any wayside arbour. - -We reach St. Bago Hospice at Laurel Hill before lunch time. Sixteen -miles over a road not too smooth. Really, we have performed the stage -with ridiculous ease. We are half tempted to go on to Tumut; but -twenty-eight miles seems a longish step. Let us not be imprudently -enthusiastic. We decide to remain. The hospice has put on a summer garb, -and is wholly devoid of snowballs or other wintry emblems. The great -laurel, the noble elm, the hawthorn, are in full leaf and flower. The -orchard trees are greenly budding. At the spring well in the creek five -crimson lories are drinking. They stand on a tray, so to speak, of -softest emerald moss, walking delicately; all things tell of summer. - -During the afternoon, so fresh did we feel that we took a stroll of five -miles, and visited the nearest farmer. As we stepped along the -red-soiled path, amid the immense timber, we realised the surroundings -of the earlier American settlers. Hawk-eye might have issued from the -ti-tree thicket by the creek and chuckled in his noiseless manner, while -he rested _la longue carabine_ on a fallen log. Uncas and Chingachgook -would, of course, have turned up shortly afterwards. - -The tiny creek speeds swiftly onward over ancient gold-washings and -abandoned sluice channels. Tracks of that queer animal the wombat -(_Phascolomys_) near his burrows and galleries are frequent. His habitat -is often near the sea, but here is proof that he can accommodate himself -to circumstances. Easily-excavated soil like this red loam is necessary -for his comfort apparently. Ferns are not objected to. Our host at Bago -informed us that one dull winter's evening he observed two animals -coming towards him through the bush. He took them to be pigs, until, -shooting with both right and left barrels, they turned out to be -wombats. He had happened to be near their burrow, to which they always -make if disturbed. In confirmation of this statement he presented me -with a skin—dark brown in colour—with long coarse hair, something -between that of a dog and a kangaroo. The thick hide covers the body in -loose folds. The dogs become aware by experience that, on account of its -thickness and slippery looseness, it is vain to attempt capture of a -wombat. Retreating to his burrow, he scratches earth briskly into his -opponent's mouth and eyes until he desists. One peculiarity of this -underground animal is, that the eyes are apparently protected by a -movable eyebrow, which, in the form of a small flap of skin, shuts over -the indispensable organ. - -We are politely received at the selector's house. A few cattle are kept; -pigs and poultry abound. The father and son 'work in the creek' for -gold, when the water is low, and thus supplement the family earnings. -Clearing is too expensive as yet to be entered into on a large scale. -Want of roads must militate for a while against farming profits in rough -and elevated country. A flower-garden and orchard bear testimony to the -richness of the soil. But looking forward to the value of the timber, -the certainty of annual crops, the gradual covering of the pasture with -clover and exotic grasses, the day is not distant in our opinion when -the agriculture of this region will stand upon a safe and solvent basis. -It is hard to overestimate the value of a moist, temperate climate, and -this the inhabitants of the vicinity possess beyond all dispute. - -The sun is showing above the tall tree-tops as we sit at breakfast next -morning. The air is keen. We need the fire which glows in the cavernous -chimney. In ten minutes we are off—ready to do or die—to accomplish the -voluntary march or perish by the wayside. - -How pleasant is it as we swing along in the fresh morning air. If we had -had a mate—one who read the same books, thought the same thoughts, had -the same tastes, and in a general way was congenial and sympathetic—our -happiness would be complete. But in this desperately busy, workaday -land, properly-graduated companionship is difficult to procure. - -Still, to those who do not let their minds remain entirely fallow, there -is choice companionship in these wooded highlands—that of the nobles and -monarchs of literature is always at hand; ceases not the murmuring talk -of half-forgotten friends, acquaintances, lovers, what not, of the -spirit-world of letters; 'songs without words,' wit and laughter, tears -and sighs, pæans of praise, sadly humorous subtleties, recall and repeat -themselves. So we are not entirely alone, even were there not the -whispering leaves, the frowning tree-trunks, the tremulous ferns and -delicate grasses, the smiling flowerets, each with its own legend to -keep us company. The sun mounts higher in the heavens; still it is not -too hot. The green gloom of the great woodland lies between us, a shade -against the fiercest sun-rays. So we fare on joyously. Three hours' fair -walking brings us to the end of the forest proper. We take one look, as -we stand on a clear hill-top—while on either side great glens are -hollowed out like demoniac punch-bowls (the Australian native idiom)—at -the mountains, at the oceans of frondage. - -We are on the 'down grade.' At our feet lies the Middle Adelong, with -deserted gold-workings, sluices, and all the debris of water-mining; a -roomy homestead, with orchard pertaining, once an inn doubtless; now no -longer, as I can testify. - -It is high noon and hot withal. The sun, no longer fended off by -o'erarching boughs, becomes aggressive. We have gained the valley and -lost the cooling breeze. We request a glass of water, which is handed to -us by the good-wife. We drink, and, seating ourselves upon a log on the -hillside, commence upon a crust of bread—unwonted foresight this—with -considerable relish. As we happen to have Carl Vosmaer's _Amazon_ in our -hand (every step of the way did we carry her), we tackle an æsthetic -chapter with enthusiasm. - -In twenty minutes we breast the hill, a trifle stiffer for the rest, -and, it may be fancy, our left boot-sole has developed an inequality not -previously sensitive. We swing along, however, in all the pride of -'second wind,' and fix our thoughts upon the next stage, eight miles -farther on. We have come about sixteen. - -We pass another hill, a plateau, and then a long declivitous grade. By -and by we enter upon the fertile valley which leads to Tumut. The green -valley of river-encircled sward on either side is one mat of clover and -rye-grass. We display an increasing preference for the turf as -distinguished from the roadway. The sun is becoming hotter. The clouds -have retired. There is a hint of storm. The heavy air is charged with -electricity. We put on the pace a little. One may as well have this sort -of thing over in a condensed form. - -Here we stop to look at a man ploughing for maize. Our brow is wet with -'honest——,' whatsy name? We must weigh pounds less than this morning. -How far to the Gilmore Inn? 'Four miles!' Thermometer over a hundred in -the shade. We set our teeth and march on. We are acquiring the regular -slouching swing of the 'sundowner,' it appears to us. There is nothing -like similar experience for producing sympathy. We can almost fancy -ourselves accosting the overseer with the customary, 'Got any work, sir, -for a man to do?' and subsiding to the traveller's hut, with the -regulation junk of meat and pannikin of flour. Can partly gauge the -feelings of the honest son of toil, weary, athirst, somewhat sore-footed -(surely there must be a nail?), when said overseer, being in bad temper, -tells him to go to the deuce, that he knows he won't take work if it's -offered, and that he has no rations to spare for useless loafers. - -It is more than an hour later—we think it more than an hour hotter—as we -sight the Gilmore Inn, near rushing stream, hidden by enormous willows. -We have abstained from drinking of the trickling rill, hot and dusty as -we are. Thoughts of 'that poor creature, small beer,' obtrude, if the -local optionists have not abolished him. - -In the parlour of this snug roadside inn we put down our 'swag,' and -order a large glass of home-brewed and a crust of bread. We certainly -agree with Mr. Swiveller, 'Beer can't be tasted in a sip,' especially -after a twenty-mile trudge. When we put down the 'long-sleever' there is -but a modicum left. - -We give ourselves about half an hour here, by which time we are cooled -and refreshed, as is apparently the day. Sol is lower and more -reasonable. We sling on, by no means done—rather improving pace than -otherwise—till overtaken by a friend and his family in a buggy. He -kindly proffers to drive us in; but we have made it a point of honour to -walk every yard, so we decline. He will leave the valise at our -hotel—which kindness we accept. The rest is easy going. We lounge into -the 'Commercial' as if we had just dismounted, and order a warm bath and -dinner, with the _mens conscia recti_ in a high state of preservation. - - - - - THE FREE SELECTOR - A COMEDIETTA - - - ACT I - - _Enter THE HONOURABLE RUFUS POLYBLOCK, Member of Upper House, and - immensely rich squatter—his Overseer, MR. GAYTERS (imperfectly - educated)._ - -THE HON. RUFUS. Well, Gayters, how's everything gettin' on? I mean the -sheep, of course. Splendid season, ain't it? Grand lambing, tremendous -heavy clip, eh? Why, you look dubersome? - -GAYTERS. Marked 92 per cent of lambs all round. The clip'll be heavier -than it was last year—that means money off a hundred and fifty thousand -sheep, but—— - -HON. RUFUS. Sheep right; lambs too; shearing all to the good; why, what -_can_ be wrong? (_Walks up and down._) Must be them infernal, -underminding free selectors. Rot 'em! if they ain't worse than -blackfellows or dingoes—and you can't shoot 'em or poison 'em legally; -not yet, that is—_not yet_! - -GAYTERS. You've about hit it, sir. I'd hardly the face to tell you, one -of 'em's taken up the main camp, opposite the big water-hole—a -half-section, too! [320 acres.] - -HON. RUFUS. What! Our main camp! Good Gad! Why, the country's goin' to -destruction! The best water-hole on the creek, too. Why, _I_ thought -that had been secured. Wasn't Sam Appinson to take it up last Thursday? - -GAYTERS. Yes, sir; cert'nly, sir; but his mother went and died the day -afore, and he had to go down the country. Didn't think it would matter -for a week; when this young chap pops in, all on a sudden like, and -collars it. It's turned out quite contrairy, ain't it, sir? - -HON. RUFUS. Contrairy! It's ruination, that's what it is! It'll play h—l -and Tommy with the sheep in the Ban Ban Paddock. What's to keep 'em off -his pre-lease? And he can pound 'em any day he likes. He'll do me -thousands of pounds' worth of harm with his beggarly half-section. Have -to buy him out and give him two prices—the old story. - -GAYTERS. I hardly think he'll agree to that, sir! I heard him yesterday -say, says he, 'I'm a-going to settle down for good, and make a home in -this wilderness; this here land is so fertile,' says he—— - -HON. RUFUS. Wilderness indeed! On a flat like that! Fert'le, -fert'le—what's that? Good corn land? D—n his impudence; what's it to -him, I'd like to know? Is he going to _cultivate_ for a living in a dry -country? Bah! I've seen them kind of coves afore. I give him two years -to lose everything, to his shirt! What sort of a chap is he, Gayters? - -GAYTERS. Well, a civil-spoken young man enough, sir. Talks very nice, -and seems to know himself. I should take him to be a gentleman. - -HON. RUFUS. A gentleman! Bosh! How the devil _can_ he be a gentleman and -a free selector, eh? A feller that robs people of their land. He's next -door to a cattle duffer. He'd turn bushranger, only he ain't got pluck -enough. - -GAYTERS. Very true, sir; cert'nly, sir; but he says it's not agin the -law. - -HON. RUFUS. The law! _Hang_ the law! What's that got to do with it? A -parcel of fellers that never owned a run or a foot of ground get into -this Lower 'Ouse and makes laws to bind people that could buy 'em out -over and over again. D'ye call that honest? I call it daylight robbery; -and I'm not a-goin' to keep laws made that way if I can find a way to -drive through 'em; yes, _through_ 'em, with a coach and four! - -GAYTERS. Yes, sir; but what are we to do? He'll have his nine hundred -and sixty acres of pre-lease, and our sheep can't be kept off it nohow. - -HON. RUFUS. Put a man on to free select right agin his frontage, take up -two flocks, and shepherd all round him. I'll feed him out; I'll make him -keep to his blasted half-section. Curse him! I'll ruin him! Damme! I'll -have him in gaol afore I've done with him. I'll—— - - _Enter MISS DULCIE POLYBLOCK in her riding-habit, also - MISS ALICE MERTON (a friend)._ - -MISS DULCIE. Why, dad, what's all this about? Who's to be hanged, drawn, -and quartered, whatever that means? We used to have it in our history -lesson. Oh, I want to tell you something! Whom do you think we met? - -HON. RUFUS. Don't know, I'm sure. Was it Lord Arthur Howard or young -Goldsmith? I know they came up to Deem Deem the other day. - -MISS DULCIE. Well, he was _such_ a handsome young man, father; and so -polite and gentlemanlike. Alice's horse shied at a hawker's cart, and -Sultan, like an old goose, began to rear. Alice dropped her whip, so he -picked it up and gave it to her with such a bow! He said he was coming -to be a neighbour of ours, so perhaps it _was_ Lord Arthur. Oh, I nearly -forgot! He gave me a card, and said he hoped he might be permitted to -call. Here it is. - -HON. RUFUS. H'm, ha! Likely it was his lordship, or one of them swells -that I heard were coming up to learn experience at Deem Deem. Old -Maclaren's a regular brick for hospitality! Well, I'll ask him over, -Dulcie. He won't see a prettier girl anywheres, nor a better one, tho' I -say it. We must have him over to dinner on Sunday. What did you say his -name was? - -MISS DULCIE (_reads from card_). Mr. Cecil Egremont. Isn't it a pretty -one? - -HON. RUFUS. Eggermont, Eggermont, eh? Hand me over that paper there; -it's a copy of a Application. Why, confound and smother all -land-stealin' villains, if that ain't the very man that's took up my -main camp! He a gentleman! He's an impostor, a swindler. He's tryin' to -rob your poor old father. He's a _free selector_! - -BOTH GIRLS (_horrified_). A free selector! Oh!! (_Scream loudly and run -out of room._) - - END OF FIRST ACT - - - ACT II - - _Enter MR. CECIL EGREMONT, dressed in blue Crimean shirt, - moleskin trousers, knee-boots, straw hat._ - -EGREMONT. And so I'm farming in Australia. A thing I've longed for all -my days. Such a free, independent, pleasant life. No one to bother you; -no one to interfere with you. Such a splendid large piece of land I've -secured too—three hundred and twenty acres, with three times as much for -grazing. Grazing right, that's the expression—a pre-lease, ha! (_Looks -in book._) I believe my fortune's made. Who's this? Some neighbour -probably. Good-day, sir; very glad to see you. - -GAYTERS. It's more'n I am to see _you_ here. D'ye know where you are? - -EGREMONT. On the Crown Lands of Her Majesty the Queen of England in the -first place, and on the farm conditionally purchased (_refers to Land -Regulations_) by Cecil Egremont, gentleman farmer, late of Bideford, -Devon. - -GAYTERS. What's the good of all this rubbish? You're on our _main camp_. - -EGREMONT. Camp? camp?—I see no traces of an encampment. In what -historical period, may I ask? - -GAYTERS. Can't yer see this? (_Kicks bone aside._) It's our cattle camp. -I don't mean a soldier's camp or any of that rot. It's been our—the -Hon'ble Rufus Polyblock's—Bundabah Run, this twenty year and more. - -EGREMONT. Has this land been sold before? Then that land agent has -deceived me! And yet he looked respectable. I paid him eighty pounds -deposit. Have his receipt. - -GAYTERS. I don't mean sold exactly—not but that Mr. Polyblock would have -bought it fast enough if Government had let him. But we had a lease of -it and always had stock running on it. - -EGREMONT. Oh, a lease!—for a special object I presume, or perhaps a -pastoral lease? (_Consults book._) Perhaps it was a Run—Run—oh, I have -it here!—page 38. But surely that gives you no legal right to hold it -against the _bona-fide_ conditional purchaser? - -GAYTERS. Well, I expect we've no _legal_ claim if it comes to that. But -no gentleman in this country goes to select on another gentleman's run. -It ain't the thing, you know. - -EGREMONT. Oh, 'it ain't the thing'? Something like poaching or shooting -without a license; but how was I to know? The law says, 25 Vict. No. 1, -Section 13 (_opens copy of Crown Lands Alienation Act_), 'On and from -the first day of January 1862——' - -GAYTERS. Oh, hang the law! The Act's all very well for them as knows no -better, or as wants to take advantage-like of a squatter, but it ain't -the square deal if you mean to act honest—what I call between man and -man. Good-morning, sir. - - [_Exit GAYTERS._ - -EGREMONT (_soliloquising_). What an extraordinary country! When I -quarrelled with my uncle, who wanted me to go into the Church, and came -out to Australia to carve out a fortune in a new world where land was -plentiful and caste unknown, I never expected to meet with class -distinctions. Instead of being able to live my own life in peace, I am -met with obstacles at every turn. I might as well have remained in North -Devon, for all I can see. Well! courage—I'll go and finish my work, and -cut this splendid log into lengths for fencing slabs. (_Begins to chop -log._) Why, here comes the young lady whose horse was frightened -yesterday. How handsome she is, and such a figure too! What a soft voice -she had. I had no idea the girls out here were anything like this! -(_Goes on chopping; his dogs rush out._) Down, Ponto! Down, Clumber! -Come to heel! (_Throws down axe and calls off dogs._) Pray don't be -frightened—a—I haven't the pleasure of knowing your name—I hope you have -quite recovered yesterday's accident. - -MISS DULCIE P. I am not in the least frightened, thank you. What -beautiful dogs! I am sure they are too well-bred to hurt a lady. Oh, my -name! (_slight confusion_)—my name is Dulcie Polyblock. I feel much -obliged by your kindness last evening. - -EGREMONT. (_Aside_—Polyblock! Polyblock! Why, that's the name of the -owner of the station, the overseer told me. Probably a nice person. I'll -go and explain matters to him.) (_Speaks._) Really I'm delighted to have -been of the slightest service. I hope, as I am settled in this part of -the world, that I may have the privilege of meeting you occasionally. - -MISS DULCIE (_confused_). I don't know—I can't say—just at present, -but—— (_Aside_—How distinguished-looking he is, but what queer clothes!) - -EGREMONT. Does your father, Mr. Polyblock (_aside_—Droll name, but that -doesn't matter), live in this neighbourhood? - -MISS DULCIE. _Live_ here! Why, he owns the Run you're on. Our -home-station, Bundabah, is about five miles off. - -EGREMONT. Oh, indeed, what a long way! I had thought we might be near -neighbours. I had intended to call and inquire if you had quite -recovered from your fright. - -MISS DULCIE P. I wasn't frightened, pray don't suppose _that_, but I -might have been hurt if you had not come up. Are you going to stay here -long? - -EGREMONT (_proudly_). Till I make a fortune. [DULCIE (_aside_)—Oh!] I -have resolved to turn this waste into a productive farm—a—it will be the -work of years. - -MISS DULCIE. I should think it would. (_Aside_—Waste, indeed!) It's the -best part of Bundabah Run. - -EGREMONT. So I was quite right to purchase it from the Crown. - -MISS DULCIE. Oh no. Quite _wrong_. It's never done, except by—by low -sort of people. - -EGREMONT. Indeed! Then perhaps I'm mistaken about the law. Just oblige -me by looking at this section of the Land Act. (_Hands book to her—she -stoops from her horse—their heads come close together—she -reads_—'Section 13, Crown lands other than town lands,' etc.) Well, it -really seems as if you had the right to do it, or anybody else, but -father's in the Upper House, and all that. He says it's a perfect -robbery to free-select on his Run. It's very confusing, don't you think? -But I must say good-bye. - -EGREMONT. Good-bye, Miss Polyblock. (_Shakes hands warmly._) You have -really comforted me very much. If you had time to explain this Act to me -I really think I should get over all my difficulties; as it is, I -despair. - -MISS DULCIE P. (_Aside_—Poor fellow! It's very hard for him; and how -white his hands are—such expressive eyes too. I oughtn't to have come, I -know, but still—I might bring about an understanding between him and -father.) Well, perhaps I _might_ be riding this way on Saturday, near -that water-hole where the willows are. Good-bye. Now then you naughty -Sultan (_canters off_). - -EGREMONT (_sitting down on log_). She has gone! disappeared like a -beautiful dream. What a kind face it is too—anxious to be friendly, and -yet, with maidenly diffidence, doubting the propriety. Polyblock! -Dulcie! a sweet name. Dulce Domum—ha! shall I ever have a home in this -wilderness? So she's the daughter of this old party who owns the Run—the -Run—ha! ha! What an idea! This elderly fossil in aboriginal times fed -his flocks and herds here. He doesn't know the difference between lease -and freehold evidently. What ignorant people these Australians are! But -the daughter—how could she have acquired that air of _fierté_, that -aplomb, that intonation? I must consider my course. (_Puts his head -between his hands and seems lost in thought for some minutes._) I have -resolved (_rises and walks proudly erect_) I will visit the old -gentleman in his own house. I will convince him of his error. I will -argue the point with him. I will show him this Act of Parliament—these -Regulations (_slaps book_). I will appeal to him as an Englishman bound -to respect the law. We shall then be on good terms. Perhaps I may even -catch a sight of _her_. But I must finish. (_Recommences chopping—sees a -horseman approaching, and sits down on log. MR. GAYTERS rides up._) - -GAYTERS. Good day—good day, Mr. Whatsisname! So you've sat down here -permanent, it seems? - -EGREMONT. My name is Egremont, if you will please to remember; yours I -believe to be Gayters. I don't quite follow you about sitting down -(_rises_); I get up occasionally, I assure you. But I have settled here -permanently, as far as that goes. - -GAYTERS. Oh yes, cert'nly, cert'nly, of course! We know all that. Heard -it afore. But perhaps you'll hear reason (they mostly does). I'm here to -make you an offer—so much on your bargain. - -EGREMONT. I don't quite understand? - -GAYTERS. Well (_sits down_), let's argue it out between man and man. - -EGREMONT. I'm ready; which section do you refer to? (_Takes up copy of -Act._) - -GAYTERS. Oh, blow the Act! What's it got to do with it? (_EGREMONT makes -gesture of surprise._) See here; of course you're here to make money? - -EGREMONT. Honestly—legally—certainly I am. - -GAYTERS. Dash the honesty! the legal part's all right of course—else it -wouldn't _wash_, you know. Now you know, this being our main camp, it -ain't the good you can do yourself, but the harm you can do him—the -boss—the Hon'ble Rufus—that's what you're looking at, naturally. - -EGREMONT (_appears puzzled_). Can't understand you. - -GAYTERS. Perhaps you'll understand _this_ (_takes out cheque_). Mr. -Polyblock says, 'Gayters,' says he, 'we've not been half sharp this -time; this here land ought to have been secured. But the young chap's -been and got the pull, and we can't afford to lose our main camp. Of -course he'll go pounding our stock night and day; so you take him this -five 'undred pound—five 'undred! and give it him _on conditions_ as he -does the residence for twelve months and then conveys the s'lection over -to me, all legal and ship-shape,' says he—and here it is. (_Hands out -cheque._) Ha! ha! I expect you understand me now. - -EGREMONT (_rising slowly_). I believe I do. - -GAYTERS (_rising quickly_). Just you sign this, then. - -EGREMONT (_with lofty anger_). Confound your cheque, sir! Take it back, -and with it my scorn and contempt, which you can present to your master, -telling him from me, at the same time, that you are a pair of -scoundrels! - -GAYTERS. Scoundrels! What d'ye mean? Are yer off yer chump? A free -selector to call the Hon'ble Mr. Polyblock of Bundabah and his super a -pair of scoundrels! Take care what you're about, young man. A camp's a -public place, or close up. 'Words calculated to cause a breach of the -peace——' - -EGREMONT (_deliberately_). Yes, scoundrels! First of all to insult a -gentleman by treating him as a rascally blackmailer; secondly, by -offering an honest man money to break the law of the land—to violate -every principle of honour and integrity. And now, if you don't quit my -land at once, I'll kick you from here into the brook! - -GAYTERS (_hastily mounting_). You take care what you're about, young -man—two can play at that game. (_Aside_—Most extraordinary chap! Rummest -free selector _I_ ever seen.) - - _Later—Bundabah House—THE HON'BLE MR. POLYBLOCK in his morning room, - pacing up and down, disturbed in mind. Enter GAYTERS._ - -MR. POLYBLOCK. Well, what is it? He's got the money of course—I'm always -_had_, seems to me. D'ye want any more cheques? If you'd been half sharp -enough he'd never have been there. - -GAYTERS. You won't want no more cheques, unless you're drove to dummying -all round him. - -MR. POLYBLOCK. _Dummy_, sir! Damme! What d'ye mean by that expression? -Are you aware that I'm a member of the Hupper 'Ouse, Mr. Gayters? - -GAYTERS. Beg pardon, sir. I meant perhaps other parties might desire to -select on his pre-lease and might want a bit of assistance, like. - -MR. POLYBLOCK. That's another matter! I always make a point of advancing -money to the struggling free selector—as long as I get a proper mortgage -on the land—Bonus Allround sees to that. But about this young chap? - -GAYTERS. He won't take the cheque; all but threw it at me. - -MR. POLYBLOCK (_much astonished_). Won't take the cheque! and won't go -out? - -GAYTERS. Not he; won't hear of it. Called you and—well his language was -horful! - -MR. POLYBLOCK. What did he call me—_me_? - -GAYTERS. Said we was a pair of damned scoundrels! and he'd kick me off -his ground. - -MR. POLYBLOCK (_solemnly_). This is what the country's a-comin' to! What -with universal sufferage, bushranging, and free selection—as is land -robbery by Act of Parliament—pore old Australia ain't a country for a -gentleman to live in. Are you sure he called _me_, the Hon'ble Rufus -Polyblock, a scoundrel, or was it only _you_? - -GAYTERS. Both of us, sure as I'm alive. 'Take this to your master,' says -he, 'with my scorn and contempt.' He talked like a chap I see at that -circus last shearin'. He looked grand, I tell you, sir. - -HON'BLE RUFUS (_gloomily_). He won't look so grand when I've done with -him. He's got no stock yet? - -GAYTERS. Not so much as a horse. He's building his cottage at present, -he says—ha! ha! - -HON'BLE RUFUS (_grimly_). Wait till he gets his stock on, that's all. -And you watch him—watch him night and day. If he puts a foot on my -ground, pull him for trespass; if he touches a head of stock, have him -up for stealin' 'em. It's what he's layin' himself out for, of course, -and we may as well fit him first as last. - - [_Exit GAYTERS._ - - END OF SECOND ACT - - - ACT III - -MR. EGREMONT (_discovered nailing up slabs, in order to complete -dwelling_). Well, this is a most enjoyable life; that is, it will be -enjoyable when I have completed my cottage (_hits finger with hammer, -and examines same_), but at present I seem rather hurried. I have had to -help the ploughman in order to get the crop in. I have quite ten acres -of wheat nicely sown and harrowed. I intend to plant potatoes after the -cottage is up, and I must manage to have some turnips; they're always -useful for the stock. A good deal of money seems to be going out; it is -equally certain that none is coming in. No man can have worked harder -either in an old or new country. But the worst of it is (_sits down on -round post and considers_), I am not fully convinced that I am working -to the best purpose. I may be doing all this for nothing! Miss -Polyblock—somehow I'm always thinking of that girl!—implied as much the -last time I saw her. By all the saints and angels, here she comes! How -gloriously handsome she always looks, and how well her habit becomes -her! Strange, what a gulf there seems to be between us! - -DULCIE. So you're working away as usual, Mr. Egremont? You certainly are -a pattern young man. How hot it must make you this terrible weather? - -EGREMONT. I thought everybody worked hard in this country. - -DULCIE. That's a popular error, as you'll find out by and by. They work -in some ways, but not usually with their hands, except when pioneering -or exploring. - -EGREMONT. Well, am I not pioneering? - -DULCIE (_bursting out laughing_). What! upon three hundred and twenty -acres of land! Excuse my rudeness in laughing. - -EGREMONT (_rather nettled_). _We_ think it a decent-sized piece of land -in England. - -DULCIE. Oh, do you, really? I beg your pardon, but father did all the -pioneering work here years and years ago. Fought the blacks when he took -up the country, and was speared by them when I was a little girl. So -there isn't much pioneering left for _you_ to do, is there? - -EGREMONT. I wish there was. - -DULCIE. Oh, do you? Then why don't you go outside? - -EGREMONT. Outside—outside—where's that? I thought I was pretty well -outside here; I haven't slept under a roof these two months. - -DULCIE (_laughing again_). Oh, indeed, I didn't mean that. Of course -you're outside now; I wish you were not. I'm afraid you'll get a -dreadful cold, the weather is so changeable; but I mean _real outside -country_, beyond the settled districts, in Queensland, Western -Australia, Kimberley—anywhere. - -EGREMONT. But how far off is that? - -DULCIE. Oh, a couple of thousand miles; but it doesn't matter _how far -it is_; it's the way to make money, and position, and a name. Here no -one can do anything but potter about, live miserably, and—and vegetate. - -EGREMONT. But I thought everybody _farmed_ in Australia? - -DULCIE. Farmed! farmed! (_with amazement_). Why, _nobody_ does; no -_gentleman_ farms, I assure you. But English people never seem to -understand things for the first year or two. - -EGREMONT (_with air of astonishment_). Oh, then I shall only _begin_ to -understand the country in another year? At present I am supposed to be -blissfully ignorant of the real meaning of matters Colonial. I may have -all my work to undo; is that what _you_ think? - -DULCIE. Well, very nearly. It's rude, of course, to say so, but you'd -rather be told the truth, wouldn't you? (_He bows._) I've heard young -Englishmen say over and over again that if they'd done nothing for the -first two years they would have learned a great deal and saved all their -money. - -EGREMONT. But surely there is nothing so hard to understand about the -country after all? Any one can see the sense of these regulations, for -instance. (_Produces book, Land Act Amendment._) - -DULCIE. Oh, don't show me that horrid book! It's about free selection -and all that, and dad says it's done no end of harm. Oh, I wish I could -advise you properly! - -EGREMONT. If you only would undertake the task! (_Takes her hand and -looks at her tenderly._) - -DULCIE (_hastily_). Oh, really, I have no time now; I shall be late for -lunch as it is. Good-morning. - - MR. POLYBLOCK'S DRAWING-ROOM. - -MR. POLYBLOCK (_looks at wrong card_). Mr. Stanley—Hubert Stanley—oh, -one of the swells that came up with the governor! Show him in. - - _Enter MR. EGREMONT, neatly and cleanly attired in - bush-fashion—Crimean shirt, moleskin trousers, no coat._ - -MR. P. (_surprised and irritated_). Hulloa! who the devil are you? Oh, I -see, swell out of luck! Want employment or else, perhaps, I wouldn't -mind advancing twenty pound till your remittance came out. Is that the -game? - -EGREMONT (_haughtily_). No, sir; I am perfectly able to pay my way, and -trust to be so for the future. We have not met before, but no doubt you -will know who I am when I tell you that my name is Cecil Egremont. - -MR. P. Eggermont? Eggermont? We've not met afore, as you say; but, by -George, I'll meet _you_ some day! You're the chap as took up my main -camp. Then what the devil do you want at my private house, eh? Mind, I -won't sell you a pound of beef or mutton either, if you want it ever so -bad. I ain't to be had that way. - -EGREMONT (_proudly_). You're over-hasty in your conclusions, sir. I have -no pressing need for butcher's meat. But you are right in surmising that -I _do_ want something from you—something of value also. - -MR. P. (_much surprised_). Good Gad! (_Aside_—What can he want? Don't -want money nor beef; perhaps it's wheat or 'taters. Never knew a free -selector yet that didn't want one of 'em.) What is it, man, speak out? - -EGREMONT. The fact is, Mr. Polyblock, your daughter; that is, I have -long cherished an admiration—— - -MR. P. (_wrathfully_). Admiration be hanged! You said my daughter—_my_ -daughter! God bless my soul and body! You don't mean to say she'd ever -say a word to the likes of you? - -EGREMONT. I fear, sir, that without the least intention of gaining her -affections clandestinely, I have been so imprudent as to receive counsel -respecting my course of action in a strange land, which Miss Polyblock -was too generous to refuse. This harmless intercourse has ripened into -intimacy—into, I may boldly say, mutual affection. As a man of honour I -feel it my duty to acquaint you with the fact, and to respectfully -demand her hand. I—— - -MR. P. (_deeply shocked and violently affected_). Stop! not another -word! Man of honour! Ha! ha! how the devil _can_ a free selector be a -man of honour? So you think my daughter, as has been eddicated equal to -the first lady in the land, is to go into a hut, and—and—— (_Breaks into -uncontrollable rage._) You—you—robber—murderer—_free selector_! Leave -this room—get off my place, or by —— I'll set the dogs on ye! (_Advances -threateningly._) - -EGREMONT (_slowly receding_). I can afford to smile at your vehemence, -to laugh at your threats. There are reasons which prevent me from -resenting your ignorant, ungentlemanly conduct. - -MR. P. (_in boxing attitude_). Come on, if that's what you want. Put up -your 'ands. I may be a member of the Hupper 'Ouse, and not so young as I -was, but I can take the conceit out of a chap like you yet. (_Advances -with hands up._) - -DULCIE (_coming from behind, pulls him by the coat-tail_). Oh, father, -father! don't touch him. - -MR. P. Let me go, girl! - -DULCIE. Oh, Cecil, _Cecil_! why don't you go away? (_Throws her arms -round Mr. P. and drags him back; EGREMONT slowly retreating, Mr. -POLYBLOCK struggling and menacing him._) - - [_Curtain falls._ - - END OF THIRD ACT - - - ACT IV - - _About a year afterwards—MR. POLYBLOCK in library, - also MR. GAYTERS._ - -MR. P. (_walks up and down_). Well, I feel regularly stumped and dried -out. Haven't felt so bad since the '68 drought. I don't know what's -comin' over the country. This young Colonial experiencer stands up agin' -me like a bulldog ant in front of a team of bullocks! My gal, Dulcie, as -I've spent thousands on—and where's there a gal like her, high or -low?—is turned that stupid and ungrateful that she's crying her eyes -out; and who for? Why, a low feller with only a half-section of land to -his name—worse than a boundary-rider, I call him! Damme! I'll dummy all -round him—eat him up that close that he won't have grass for a -bandicoot. I'm that miserable as I could go and drownd myself in that -creek afore the door. Blast that infernal Land Act and them as made it! -It'll ruin the country and every man of property in it. Well (_turns -angrily to GAYTERS_), what do _you_ want? - -GAYTERS (_hesitatingly_). Mr. Overdew has just sent his reporter for ten -thousand sheep, sir; wants to know if you'll let him take them through -the Run, along the back track. - -MR. P. (_with concentrated wrath_). Tell him if he dares to go one yard -off his half-mile from the main-frontage road I'll pound every hoof of -his grass-stealin', hungry, loafin' sheep, as is the dead image of their -owner—if he _does_ own 'em, and not the bank. Tell him _that_, and mind -you shepherd him slap through the boundary gate. - -GAYTERS. Of course, sir; cert'nly, sir. Anything else, sir? - -MR. P. (_with sudden fury_). Only, you stand gapin' there another minute -and I'll knock yer through my study winder! - -GAYTERS. Cert'nly, sir; of course, sir. - - [_Exit hastily._ - - _MR. CECIL EGREMONT on his selection, discovered chopping - down a tree_. - -(_Speaks._) I am more than ever confirmed in my opinion that this is -_the_ most extraordinary, puzzling, topsy-turvy country in the whole -world. I might just as well have remained in North Devon for all the -good I am likely to do. I could have taken a farm there, -and—well—probably have managed to pay the rent. I _have_ bought a farm -here, become a free-holder—that most enviable position, at least in -England—and now when I've got it I don't know what to do with it. Old -Polyblock's sheep eat right up to my boundary, and beyond it too. I -gather there's not much to be done with three hundred and twenty acres -in a dry season. My wheat is prematurely yellow; my potatoes won't come -up! I must fence my farm in; that will cost—at six shillings a rod—let -me see—how much? (_Sits down on log and begins to cipher in -pocket-book._) - -DULCIE (_who has ridden closely up in the meantime, and is watching him, -coughs slightly_). Don't let me interrupt you, but you seem absorbed in -thought. Is it about the value of the tree, or some other abstruse -calculation? - -EGREMONT (_jumps up hastily_). Oh, my dearest Dulcie! neither, that is, -both—really I hardly know what I am about at present. I was working to -distract my mind. I suppose it's always right to cut down a tree? - -DULCIE. Nonsense! About the worst thing you could do. Sinful waste of -time. Do you suppose father made his money in that way? The pencil and -pocket-book look more like it. We say in Australia that a man's head -ought to be good enough to save his hands. Are your birth, breeding, and -education only equal to a pound a week? Because you can buy a man's work -for that—all the year round. - -EGREMONT. But I thought all the early colonists worked with their hands, -tended their sheep, drove bullocks and all that—the books say so. - -DULCIE. Nonsense! The people who know, don't write books—very seldom at -least. The people who write books, don't know. That's the English of it. -But I came through the township and I've brought your post. Here's a -letter and a newspaper. - -EGREMONT. Heaven be thanked and my Guardian Angel! That's _you_, my -dearest Dulcie. Oh, that I had you always to be near me—to protect me -from the ways of this wicked Australian world! - -DULCIE. H—m! _You want some one_, I do believe. I might consider over -the contract, but my tender—ahem!—wouldn't be accepted at present. -Father's going on like an old 'rager' bullock, all by himself in the -strangers' yard. But hadn't you better open your letter? - -EGREMONT. Then you _do_ take an interest in me? After this I fear -nothing. Why will you not consent to trust your future welfare to my -guidance? - -DULCIE (_scornfully_). A likely thing! Trust a free selector! Not if I -know it!!! Why, what would become of us? Perhaps you'd like to see me -lifting the top off a camp-oven—on a fire, under that black stump -there—whilst you were—chopping—down—a—tree! ha! ha! No! (_surveying her -well-fitting riding-habit—her thoroughbred horse, and stroking her -gloves_) I seem to like this sort of thing better. I must drag on for a -while with my allowance from poor old dad. - -EGREMONT (_with lofty resolve_). You are heartless, Dulcie—devoid of -natural affection. You laugh at my inexperience, you sneer at my -poverty—let us part for ever. Go back to your father's mansion and leave -me to my fate. I feel that I shall succeed, perhaps make a fortune, in -the end. - -DULCIE (_Aside_—It will be a precious long time first! What a dear, -noble fellow he is—I hate to bully him!) _Aloud_—Come, Cecil -(_winningly_), you mustn't be cross. I am only a poor simple girl -brought up in the bush (I wonder what _he_ is then?), but of course I -know more about stock and land than you do. If we are not to be married -(you see I love you a little) till you make enough to buy the ring out -of this calf-paddock of yours, we may wait till we're grey! But why -don't you open the letter? It might contain something of importance. - -EGREMONT (_partly mollified_). I'm afraid not; merely an entreaty to -return from this wild country, where there are no people fit for me to -associate with, where I may starve, or be killed by blacks or wild -beasts—that's the general tone of my letters of late. Ha! What is this? -(_Reads_—Your poor Uncle Humphrey died last week; he was on bad terms -with our side of the house, and has not spoken to your father for forty -years; but he has left you £20,000, for which you will receive a -bank-draft by this mail. Of course you will come home at once!) Of -course, of course! Oh! eh! Dulcie dear? Now I shall build a house here, -plant a garden, make a lakelet, sow artificial grasses, fence and -subdivide,—in fact, make a paradise of these desolate, bare acres. -Eventually it will be highly remunerative. But when my house is -completed and furnished in accordance with modern art, _you_ will come -there to be my queen and its most brilliant ornament? (_looks -entreatingly at her_). - -DULCIE (_with expression of horror_). What! improve a selection? Spend -thousands of pounds on it? Build a really good house and ask me to live -_there_! Did you ever hear of Tarban Creek? - -EGREMONT. Not that I can recall—an aboriginal name, I presume. I have -caught the name of Curbin, I think. Is that a similar watercourse? - -DULCIE (_restraining herself_). It's hardly worth explaining—a little -joke of mine. But to come to business. Suppose _I_ show you a way to -invest your money—to get twenty per cent for it in a few years, at the -same time to make father think you a clever, rising man—an opinion -which, ahem! he does _not_ hold at present—and lastly, to cause him to -give his consent to our marriage, (_coaxingly_) what should you say -then? Would you be willing to do what I told you? - -EGREMONT. I always thought you as clever as you were beautiful, my own -dearest Dulcie! Take me with all that is mine and do what you will. - -DULCIE. Very nice—indeed flattering! How long will it last, I wonder? -'Now you lisdens do me' (as our German gardener used to say) and you -will hear something to your advantage. But first promise to do what I -ask—you _will_ promise? (_looking entreatingly and archly at him_). - -EGREMONT. On my honour; on the cross of my ancestor's sword—he was a -Crusader. - -DULCIE. The first is enough; I am afraid you are inclined to be a -Crusader too, as far as romantic enthusiasm goes—still it's a fault on -the right side, and will be cured by colonial and other experience. -Firstly, you must sell this selection. - -EGREMONT. _What!_ sell my farm—my home—my first venture in this new -world? - -DULCIE. Stuff and nonsense! It's poor dad's Run, to begin with, and you -ought never to have touched it! You wouldn't, either, if you'd known how -hard he worked for it before I was born. - -EGREMONT (_meditatively_). How could it be _his_; or, if so, how did the -Government sell it to _me_? (_Placing his hand to his forehead_) I never -_shall_ understand the Land Act of this country. But don't ask me to -sell my—my—birthright! - -DULCIE (_decisively_). You've promised me, and you _must_ sell it. Of -course if you prefer living here by yourself as a 'hatter'—for _I'll_ -never come into it—you may keep it. - -EGREMONT. (_Aside_—A hatter!—is that a legal term in this most -perplexing Act? What can she mean? However, I surrender -unconditionally.) To whom shall I sell it? - -DULCIE. That's a good boy and he shall be rewarded. Go into the township -and ask for the office of Mr. Bonus Allround, the lawyer; offer it to -him, and he'll give you a cheque for it. How much has it cost you? -Thousands by this time, I suppose. - -EGREMONT. Really more than any one would suppose. Firstly, the deposit, -five shillings per acre—and seed wheat—and other things. - -DULCIE. Oh, of course, I forgot! Well, value all your improvements, loss -of time, etc. You have lost plenty of time, you know, talking to me. We -won't say yet whether you mightn't have done worse. But put it all down, -every shilling; add your own time at a pound a week—you're not _quite_ -worth that, but he'll pass it to get the land. He'll pay you the money -sharp, and all you have to do is to sign a transfer. - -EGREMONT. Seems simple enough—only turn myself out of house and home. -Well, after that little step? - -DULCIE. Go to Sydney as soon as you can. I see Banda Plains Run is in -the market, with only a few head of cattle—two thousand, I think. I've -heard father talk about the place by the hour; he thinks no end of -it—says he never saw better fattening country. - -EGREMONT (_doubtingly_). Am I to go to him? - -DULCIE. Not yet, goose! When you're in Sydney, call on Messrs. Drawwell -and Backer—get Banda Plains as cheap as you can, but _buy_ at all risks. -Give them their price at last; then come back and tell dad what you've -done. He can't eat you. - -EGREMONT. He looked as if he _would_ last time, without salt! But I will -go straight to Sydney and do your bidding. Drawwell and Backer, Stock -Agents, Pitt Street, Sydney, that's the address (_notes in -pocket-book_). - -DULCIE. You're getting quite a man of business. If you're so much -improved in an hour, what will you be in a year? Really, I'm quite proud -of my handiwork. And oh, one thing, dearest! don't forget—it's most -important (_impressively_)—have your hair cut by Adger! You see it is a -little long (_touches his hair_)—thinking of your woes, I suppose? But -we respect the fashions in Australia, though you mightn't think it. -You'd better not be eccentric. - -EGREMONT (_laughs_). Anything else, Miss Polyblock? I see the -foreshadowing of an oligarchy. But it will be a benevolent despotism, I -trust? - -DULCIE. Bless me! how late it is! The sun is quite low. I shall have to -ride fast. Don't _you_ lose a moment either. - -EGREMONT. Trust me; but—one minute—as a reward for my unquestioning -obedience, don't you think—— - - [_Comes close as if to whisper—kisses her, and exit._ - - ACT V - -MR. POLYBLOCK (_discovered walking up and down the library_). Well, I -don't know as ever I spent a more miserable month. Dulcie don't take no -interest in the things as used to amuse her. I don't know what's come to -the gal. If I could see my way at all, and thought this young chap was -steady and sensible—likely to get on—I might push him; but—a free -selector—a half-section, crawling duffer as won't have grass for a -milker nor credit for a bag of flour in another year—No! I couldn't -think of it. It's enough to make a man turn agin his own flesh and -blood. (_Knocking heard._) Who's that? - -MAID. A gentleman wants to see you, sir. - -MR. POLYBLOCK. Who is it? That chap as was going to buy the Weejoglag -store-cattle, p'raps? - - _Enter CECIL EGREMONT, dressed in tweeds._ - -MR. POLYBLOCK. Oh, it's you, Mr. Eggermont! (_Aside_—How well the feller -looks! Holds up his head too! Dashed if he ain't a fine, upstanding, -good-looking chap when he's turned out decent! He looked more like a -shearer when I seen him last.) Well, sir! what can I do for you? Sheep -been trespassing, I suppose? - -EGREMONT. No, Mr. Polyblock, such is not the case. Nor will it matter to -me in future. I have sold my land. - -MR. POLYBLOCK. Sold the s'lection! You don't say so! Who to? who to? Mr. -Eggermont, why didn't you come to me, if you wanted to part with it? I'd -have given you anything in reason. - -EGREMONT. You must pardon me for reminding you, Mr. Polyblock, that your -manner was not reassuring at our last interview. - -MR. POLYBLOCK. Perhaps not—rather hasty, I know. Mustn't mind an old -man; but who's got the s'lection? - -EGREMONT. I disposed of it to Mr. Allround in the township, from whom I -received a cheque, paying me in full for all improvements and loss of -time. - -MR. POLYBLOCK. Bonus Allround! Good shot! It's all right—you've sold to -_me_ through him—he's my agent. I should have been sold, my word! if any -other buyer had come in there. And now what are you a-goin' to do? -You're a man of capital now, you know! - -EGREMONT. I was fortunate enough to have a moderate legacy left me by an -uncle just before I went to Sydney. While there, under advice, I -invested eight thousand pounds in a run called Banda Plains, on the -Queensland border. They tell me it's a good purchase. There are two -thousand cattle, besides horses. - -MR. POLYBLOCK. Good purchase, sir! It's the best thing in the market. -Banda Plains, with only two thousand head of cattle—it's a gift—a -reg'lar gift! Your fortune's made. - -EGREMONT. It gratifies me to hear you say so, Mr. Polyblock—most deeply, -I assure you. And now, sir, perhaps you will reconsider your rather -strongly-expressed refusal to me of your daughter's hand? - -DULCIE (_who has opened the door softly and stolen into the room_). Oh, -dad, you don't want to break your poor Dulcie's heart! I _do_ love him -so! - -MR. POLYBLOCK (_clearing his throat and speaking in a parliamentary tone -of voice_). Ahem! I am not aware, Mr. President, that there's anything -in the Land Act or Regulations against the daughter of a M.L.C. marryin' -a squatter—a squatter, you observe, Mr. Eggermont. Had the party been a -selector; but I won't dwell on a subject too painful to a parent's -feelin's. Take her, my boy! And a better gal, tho' I say it—good, game, -and good-lookin'—she's all that and more—never——' - -DULCIE (_moving up to EGREMONT and placing her hand on his shoulder_). -Never gave advice to a struggling free selector. Is that what you were -going to say, daddy? Never mind—he had sense enough to take it. Hadn't -you, Cecil dear? - -MR. POLYBLOCK. Seems to me he's free selected on a pastoral holding to -some purpose, you monkey. Is there any clause about that in the new -Land Act, I wonder, as they're makin' such a bother about? Anyway, I'm -the happiest lessee in the unsettled districts, now this little -matter's settled satisfactory. And tell you what, Dulcie (_GAYTERS -comes in here—looks rather blank_), I'll send Gayters out to Banda -Plains to take delivery and wire into the bullockin' for a bit. It'll -do him good—he's been takin' it too easy lately; and as it happens to -be Christmas time, we'll get the transfer business put through by the -Rev. Mr. Robinson at the township, and, Cecil, my boy! give us your -hand (_puts DULCIE'S into it_). There now, you can take up this -additional conditional selection. It won't want improvin', that's one -thing. Ha! ha! I'm that full of happiness that I can get a joke out of -the Land Act—Rum-ty-idity—fol-de-rol (_dances round the room_). - - _CECIL puts his arm round DULCIE; they look tenderly into - each other's faces._ - - CURTAIN FALLS - - - - - BUSH HOSPITALITY - - -In the pioneer period of the pastoral industry, which has since known -such phenomenal development and, alas! no less phenomenal declension, -the hospitality of the dwellers in the wilderness was proverbially free -and unchallenged. But even then there were 'metes and bounds.' Like -Colonial society—though apparently 'a free and a fetterless thing'—there -were lines of demarcation. These, though unsubstantial and shadowy to -superficial observers, were nevertheless discovered by experiment to be -strangely hard and fast. - -In those Arcadian days the stranger, on arriving at the homestead of a -man whom he had never seen, and whose name possibly he had scarcely -heard, was warranted by custom, on riding up to the door, in proposing -to stay all night. It was the rule of the period. If there was no inn -within a dozen miles, it became an unquestioned right. - -The owner or manager of the station, if at home, welcomed the stranger -with more or less courtesy, according to his disposition, assisting the -guest, whom Allah had sent him, to take off his saddle and place it in -the verandah of the cottage, to turn out his horse in the paddock, or, -in default of that "improvement," to hobble or tether the trusty steed -on good pasture. - -If the personages referred to were absent, the traveller, unless he -happened to be abnormally diffident, informed the cook, hut-keeper, or -any station hand whom he might chance to encounter, that he had come to -stay all night, turned his horse out, and entering the plainly-furnished -abode, made himself as comfortable as circumstances would admit of. - -If his host delayed his coming, supper was served. The stranger foraged -about among the books and newspapers, and with the aid of tobacco, -managed to spend the evening, retiring to rest in the apartment -indicated, with perfect cheerfulness and self-possession. - -If, as chiefly happened, the hard-worked colonist returned from the -quest of lost sheep or strayed cattle before bedtime, he usually -expressed himself much gratified by the unexpected companionship, and -after a cheery confab about the latest news, politics, prospects -(pastoral), and a parting smoke, both retired to the couches where -unbroken slumbers were the rule. It was a mutual benefit. The monotonous -life of the squatter was cheered by the advent of a fresh face, fresh -news and ideas. The weary traveller found frank entertainment for man -and beast, company and a guide, possibly, for the morrow's journey. - -In these strictly equestrian days (for gentlefolk) no man could carry -more than a limited change of apparel in the leather valise strapped to -the fore-part of the saddle. Saddlebags were occasionally used, but they -were held to be cumbrous. The journeys were rough and protracted. Clean -linen has ever been unwillingly dispensed with by the Briton. In that -barbaric epoch, Crimean shirts could not be, the quarrel with the Sultan -about the mythical keys not having arisen. Paper collars, much more -celluloids, were in the future. The only recognised departure from the -full-dress white raiment, the 'biled shirt' of the American humorist to -come, was the check or 'regatta' shirt. - -Now this was a garment of compromise, not disreputably soiled after a -couple of days' use. Still its existence as a respectable article of -apparel had a limit. When that was reached, the stranger was permitted -to levy on the host's wardrobe, if a bachelor, to the extent of one -coloured shirt, leaving his own in lieu. This was held to be fair -exchange—the alien vestment, when washed, being, if of ordinary texture -and age, of equal average value to the one taken; the host doing -likewise when on _his_ travels. The chief and perhaps only undesirable -result was, that every proprietor on a frequented line of road had a -collection of the most varied and cosmopolitan autographs in marking -ink, on his shirts, probably ever noticed in one gentleman's wardrobe. - -Now this was all very well in the days when Mr. Jones and Mr. Smith were -in the free and independent condition of bachelors. They could smoke -their pipe unconcernedly with Jackson the cattle-dealer, or Tomkins the -working overseer from an out-station, or Binks, who was nobody in -particular, or Jinks, who was a cheeky sort of a fellow, but with no -harm in him. But all this was changed when Jones or Smith took unto -himself a wife. He then desired to have his evenings to himself; and -though a gentleman or an agreeable stranger was always welcome, he by no -means cared about entertaining half-and-half people, or being bothered -with making talk for uncongenial persons all the evening. Yet he did not -quite like to send all wayfarers whom he did not know or care about to -the 'men's hut.' Some of them doubtless were more at home there, or -managed to pass the evening without complaint; still, mistakes were -occasionally made. Therefore some kind of intermediate arrangement came -to be needed. - -When an inn was within a mile or two, the difficulty was removed. No -stranger could desire to be entertained at the house of a man he did not -know, merely because it was cheaper. If he were mean enough to make the -attempt, he received a rebuff—possibly no more than his due. Still, in -some instances, the squatter, even if unmarried, dreaded the hotel as -the nucleus of a township, and bore the enforced intrusion rather than -risk the invasion of his Run. - -It became thus one of the unwritten laws of Bushland that, though a -bachelor station was fair game, and introductions might be dispensed -with, more circumspection must be exercised in the case of the homestead -which contained a lady. Even if the hospitality was unrestricted as of -yore, the restraint was felt by the more homely of the wayfarers, and a -sensible lowering of the average of visitors took place. - -And even when there was no such adequate reason, the resident proprietor -was occasionally, by nature or on principle, opposed to the -indiscriminate entertainment of chance-comers, and cast about for some -method of ensuring privacy. The late Mr. Charles Ebden discovered that -'Carlsruhe,' named after a continental reminiscence of travel, was by no -means likely to be the 'Charles' Rest' which the name promised. So he -made a bold innovation, the fame of which went through the length and -breadth of the land: he established a 'visitors' hut.' - -There appeared to be no great harm in this—merely a comfortable cottage, -wherein the visitor was supplied with an evening meal, bed, and -breakfast, all comfortably arranged. His horse would of course be cared -for, paddocked, and brought up in the morning. One would fancy this -gratuitous entertainment would have been voted sufficient. But the -roving pastoralists were dissatisfied. They did not want merely meat and -drink—they wanted a welcome: to have speech also with the master of the -house. He was suspected of considering himself too good for his -surroundings. And so 'Carlsruhe' was gradually avoided—not that the -perhaps too fastidious 'Count' Ebden cared a jot. - -An amusing _contretemps_ with respect to this novel disposal of guests -was that related of the late Sir James Hawthorn. The good old gentleman -arrived late one evening at 'Carlsruhe,' naturally concluding that he -would receive special consideration. It did not so chance, however, -whether from non-recognition—he was not a knight then, but a doctor—or -some other cause. Before leaving the visitors' hut in the morning, he -left a formal note of thanks for his night's lodging, and enclosed a -cheque for a guinea as payment. - -But the Colonial Treasurer of the future was equal to the occasion. He -made answer by post, in a carefully-worded epistle, acknowledging 'a -most extraordinary communication, containing a cheque, for which he was -totally unable to conceive any reasonable explanation, and had forwarded -to Secretary of the Lunatic Asylum.' - -After the changes which turned the homesteads of the larger stations -into small villages, the 'big house,' as it came to be called, was no -longer expected to accommodate the proprietor, the overseer, and the -young gentleman learning Colonial experience, in addition to every -wanderer that turned up. The overseer generally had a commodious if, -perhaps, plainly-furnished cottage allotted to him. This came to be -known as the 'barracks,' and to be used as a convenient abode for -strangers and pilgrims, as well as for the storekeeper, the working -overseers, and the young gentlemen. Here, in summer, they could sleep on -the verandah, smoke and yarn on the same, or, in winter, around the -cheerful fire, without danger of disturbing the squatter's domestic -arrangements. This of course without prejudice to personal friends or -strangers of distinction. - -As to the pilgrims, they might be described as 'human warious.' There -was first the squatter proper, young, middle-aged, or elderly, on his -way from one station to the other, returning from new country or from a -journey with fat cattle or sheep. He was of course welcome, being, -presumably, ready and willing to repay the accommodation in kind. Then -there were overseers and managers, cattle and sheep buyers, agents and -drovers. These were pastoral personages, and, of course, to be -considered. The dealers, even when roughish in manner, were a power in -the land, capable too of drawing cheques to an amount which secured -respect. They could not in any case be sent to the men's hut. Tourists, -_bona-fide_ travellers, and globe-trotters, having business of some -sort, others without any particular aim or destination,—these gentry in -the 'barracks' were evidently the 'right men in the right place.' - -It must be surmised also that adventurers travelled about among the -stations as a pleasant way of seeing the country and spending a few -months at free quarters. A man of prepossessing appearance and agreeable -manners, 'who wanted to buy a station—a real first-class property, you -know,' made his appearance in a certain district just 'after the gold.' -He was courteously treated, and shown a variety of stations. He passed a -whole summer in the leisurely inspection of sheep and cattle properties, -none of which quite suited his taste. He became quite a well-known -inhabitant. Many people believed at last that he had so invested, and -accepted him as a recognised identity. But he never _did_ buy a station -or any stock—eventually contenting himself with a Government billet of a -moderate description, under circumstances which proved the presumption -of his being a capitalist to have been erroneous. - -As a general rule it may be stated that the farther back, the more -distant the station, the more liberal and invariable the hospitality. -When men went seldom to town, when books and newspapers were scarce, the -lonely squatter was well disposed towards any kind of stranger guest -above the level of shepherd or stock-rider. He was a change, an animated -evening newspaper, and as such intrinsically valuable. His visit, -besides, was of a transitory or fleeting nature, so that only his good -qualities were apparent. - -Even this form of enjoyment was subject to abatement. There was the -pilgrim now and then who declined to proceed on his pilgrimage, -especially when he fell upon a comfortable bachelor abode, with -_cuisine_, library, and liquor reasonably up to date. Not infrequently -the pilgrim's steed would stray, which the owner would search for in -such a perfunctory manner that it seemed as if years might roll on -before he was run in. One really most agreeable and gifted person——he -afterwards became Premier in a neighbouring colony—was celebrated as -protracting his visits by this device. One morning there appeared in a -provincial paper the startling announcement, 'Mr. Blank's horse is -found.' It was the making of him. The laughter was so general that he -left that colony, and attained in another to political eminence and -material prosperity. - -Not always, however, was even the _bona-fide_ squatter on his travels -made welcome. A friend of mine arrived at a station late in the evening. -'I am Mr. Blake,' he said, 'of Kilrush'—a name well known throughout his -own and other districts for generous, unstinted hospitality. The -proprietor stood at his door, but offered no welcome. - -'How far is it to the next place?' inquired the traveller. - -'Sixteen miles; you can't miss the road.' - -'Thanks; much obliged.' So he put spurs to his weary steed—he had come -far since sunrise—and departed, reaching the station, so obligingly -referred to, long after dark on a cold night. - -In the following year the same squatter arrived at Kilrush. He was -cordially received—invited to stay a day and rest his horse. 'I killed -him with kindness,' were my friend's words—relating the affair to me -years afterwards—'and when he rode away, did everything possible, short -of holding his stirrup for him. - -'"Mr. Blake," said he, "you've behaved to me like a gentleman! I am -afraid I didn't give you that idea when you called at Bareacres. I feel -ashamed of myself, I assure you." - -'"So you ought to be," I said, looking him straight in the face. He -muttered something and rode away.' - - - - - LAPSED GENTLEFOLK - - -Ah me! who has not known and pitied them in this Australian land of -ours? The workman's Paradise! yet all too well adapted for converting -the gently-nurtured waif into the resigned labourer, the homeless -vagrant. The gradations through which slowly, invisibly, but none the -less surely, drifts to lower levels the luckless gentleman adventurer, -are fraught with a melancholy interest. How sad it seems to realise that -of the hundreds of well-dressed, well-educated, high-hearted youngsters, -fresh from pleasant British homes, who every season land on our shores, -a certain proportion will, in a few years of Colonial Experience (save -the mark!), be transformed into misanthropic shepherds, ragged tramps, -or reckless rouseabouts. - -One always sees a few in the men's hut at shearing time, owning no -higher aspirations than the ordinary station hand, living the rough life -of the bush-labourer, relishing coarse tobacco and the coarser jests -when the day's work is done, hardly distinguishable in dress, tone, and -manner from their ruder comrades. Like them, alas! too prone to end each -term's unrelieved labour by an aimless, ruinous drinking-bout. - -It is not that the daily toil, the plain fare, and rude companionship -would be in any sense degrading, were they used as means to an end. Did -the cadet resolve to save all but the cash absolutely required for -clothing and other needs, a small capital might easily be acquired, with -reasonable credit in proportion, for which a profitable outlet is always -to be found. And a knowledge of the rougher side of Australian life is -always valuable wherever his lot might be cast. - -The real social deterioration accrues when the well-born or -well-educated man becomes fatally contented with his humble -surroundings; when hope has faded out, when ambition is dead, when -repeated trials have landed him in deeper failure; when the conviction -is only too well founded that for him no higher position is attainable -in this world. Nay, that even if attained, he is no longer fitted to -occupy it. - -Persons imperfectly acquainted with our social system may say, 'Oh, once -a gentleman, always a gentleman!' and so on. From whatever rude -environment, he will come forth true to his training, and assume his -earlier habitudes as easily as the well-fitting garments which his -altered circumstances render necessary. - -It is not so, unfortunately. Granted that the exceptional individual -emerges from the wreck of his youthful aspirations safe and uninjured, -more numerous are they tenfold who reach the shore bleeding and -disabled, never to be again but the simulacra of their former -selves—hopeless of ever attaining the fair heaven-crowned heights, so -near, so tempting of ascent in boyhood; heedless but of the lower pains -and pleasures to which they have all unresistingly yielded their future -lives. - -Much of course depends on the mental fibre of the youngster. If happily -constituted, he may defy the most inauspicious surroundings to alter his -habits of thought or change his settled purpose in life. One boy, at the -roughest station in the 'back blocks,' will save his money and do his -work in a cheerfully observant spirit; he will utilise the spare time, -of which he has so large a supply, in reading and improving his mind; he -will find out all he can about the working of the station, with a view -to future operations when he is promoted to partnership or management. -To this he resolutely looks forward. He preserves the manners and the -principles which he brought from home untarnished; an easy enough -matter, since even in the farthest wilds, among the roughest working men -in Australia, a true gentleman's mien and tone are always held in -respect, which no man loses save by his own act. - -Say that he has a few years of hard work and privation, he is sure to -rise in life, and eventually, by dint of perseverance and attention to -detail, to become the owner of or partner in a station. His character -for steadiness, efficiency, and industry becomes known from one end of -the district to the other. And if those with whom he is temporarily -connected do not advance him, be sure that some neighbouring proprietor -in need of an active lieutenant will not lose the opportunity. - -The young man of less robust self-denial takes station life after a very -different fashion. His fixed idea has been from the first that galloping -about on horseback, smoking, shooting, and drinking are the recognised -pastoral industries by which fortunes in Australia are made. He does not -bother his head about the science of sheep-breeding, or the management -of that capricious but profitable animal the merino. He forgets -messages. He overrides the station horses. He smokes diligently, talks -familiarly and plays cards with the men, from whom he learns to swear -profanely and acquires no useful knowledge—on the contrary, much that is -evil. On his visits to the village or post-town he learns to drink -spirits, and thus lays the foundation of a dangerous habit, which, if -not checked, may destroy his after-life. At the end of his two years' -experience he is regarded as about on a level with the ordinary -rouseabout—hardly as good, certainly no better. On making up his mind to -leave for other employment, he is told that he is heartily welcome to -please himself. - -Occasionally the unsuccessful gentleman, emigrant or colonial, is not -distinctly to blame for his fall in social position. He has adopted a -bush life, trusting vaguely to be able to get on in one of the numerous -ways of which he has heard tell. He tries hard at first for situations -suited to his former position in life, finding, however, that no one is -in pressing need of an inexperienced youth not brought up to work. -Still, if strong and willing, he can earn ordinary wages as a station -hand. He learns how to manage the routine work nearly as well as his -comrades in the men's hut, and by degrees, not being mentally -persistent, he adopts the tone and manner of the men who are his -companions—not at once, and not altogether, but after a year or two—to a -much greater extent than any one would think possible. In a work of -fiction some kindly squatter would free the poor fellow from his rough, -or let us say uneducated comrades, but in real life no one would risk -the experiment. He may have been deceived before. He would argue that -though the waif might be a gentleman by birth, it must have been his own -fault in some way that he was in his present position—most likely drank, -gambled, or had done something shady; and this would be true in nine -cases out of ten. If he introduced Mr. Waif to his family, or took him -into his house if a bachelor, he might, of course, behave well for a -time, but one fine day, unable to withstand the temptation of an open -sideboard, would be found dead drunk or madly intoxicated on his -employer's return. - -Gradually the unsuccessful one, after a year or two of nomadic life, -tramping it from one end of a colony to another, begins to abandon the -punctilious habits of his early life. His speech shows signs of -degeneration. He talks of people indifferently as 'coves' or 'cards'; -_causerie_ with him is 'pitching'; he refrains with difficulty from -expletives, and so on. His reading has not been kept up, though, had he -cared, it might have been. He is scented unpleasantly with coarse -tobacco, occasionally, alas! with the too frequent 'nip' of alcohol. If -he by any chance re-enters civilised life, he shows in a dozen ways that -he is no longer in touch with it. He makes things uncomfortable for his -friends or companions, and is thoroughly convinced that he is out of -place himself. - -A youngster of this type came to a squatter's station one evening, -carrying his 'swag' like any other tramp. The owner knew that he was or -had been a gentleman, but apologised, as he had guests, for not asking -him into the house. He was too dirty to be quite exact, and neither in -raiment nor in other matters was he then fitted for the society of -ladies. So he had his supper and bed in the men's hut, smoked his pipe -over the fire with the man-cook, and turned in, quite contented with his -accommodation. - -Sometimes, if fairly industrious and steady, the ex-tramp makes his way -to a managership, or even a share in a station, where he recovers a -portion of his earlier form. But he is apt to be rough and careless to -the end, which his English friends attribute to the necessarily -deteriorating influences of colonial life. - -Perhaps the saddest sight of all is the broken-down 'swell' of maturer -years, carrying his 'swag' along the road, sometimes a solitary -'traveller'—a name that has its own significance in Australia—sometimes -in company with other 'sundowners.' He is free of the guild now, -unluckily. They neither resent his companionship, nor feel flattered by -it; in no way do they alter their mode of speech or action in -consequence. It is known that he has 'seen better days,' as the phrase -runs. If so, it is nobody's business but his own. A certain amount of -reticence characterises Australian bushmen, which is not noticeable -among their British comrades. The nomadic habit, and the goldfields' -experience—for nearly every able-bodied man in Australia has graduated -there—may be held accountable for this trait. Travel is the true -civiliser, and in many respects supplies the place of the higher -education, teaching reserve, undemonstrativeness, and the patient -endurance of privations and dangers which cannot be evaded. - -So, though it is generally believed that Jack Somers or Bill Brown _was_ -a gentleman (nothing, alas! will ever make or keep him one again), he is -treated by the master who employs him, and the station hands or farm -labourers who work with him, exactly as the others—neither better nor -worse. Generally a smart, intelligent worker, whether a shearer, -rouseabout, boundary rider, road hand, what not, during the often -protracted periods when he is compulsorily sober. This is secured by -giving him no money (the more obvious necessaries can be procured from -the station store), until his term of work be completed or his contract -finished. Then he gets his cheque, and short work he makes of it. For -the nearest bush public-house is to him a barrier fixed and impassable, -while there is a pound in his purse. - -After all, Australia is perhaps the best country for the fallen swell. A -reasonable share of honest work is always open to him, which, from the -custom of the country, is not held to be degrading, as it would be in -Europe. He could not work in the field in Britain, tend sheep, drive a -team, break stones. All these things he can do in Australia with but -temporary loss of prestige or social rank. He would find it next to -impossible to gain a living in the old country in any form of day -labour. Were he even to succeed in doing so, he would be gazed and -wondered at by the whole country-side. A man of good family requested me -to officially certify his identity for the security of his people at -home, who were remitting money to his credit. Roughly dressed was he—had -evidently been 'on the wallaby' recently. After telling me his name and -birth, he must have thought I looked doubtful, for he said, 'I am the -man I say; I'm not the Claimant.' That great personage was then -supplying England and Australia with food for conversation. A book lay -near me with a Latin quotation on the frontispiece. This I slightly -indicated; he at once took the hint and translated it correctly. - -'What have you been doing lately?' I inquired. His hands, roughened and -gnarled, with no make-believe manual labour, assured me that he had been -pretty continuously at work of some sort. - -'Well, station work mostly,' he returned answer. 'My last job was -cooking for a survey camp.' - -'Was it for this that you graduated at Trinity College, Dublin?' was my -unspoken thought. That he drank hard between times, poor fellow, was -apparent to my experienced eye. He received his money duly, which was, -of course, 'blued' like all previous remittances. I exchanged letters -with the friends who had written after him. I advised, if they were -really anxious for his return, that he should be placed on board ship, -but no money given to him till safe on blue water. What historiettes of -lapsed gentlefolk in the colonies might be written! The Honourable Blank -Blank, long past even the middle passage of station work, who loafs -about country towns, taking work as ostler, or even 'boots' at the -hotels, ready to drink with any rough, and feebly subsisting upon the -reflection of former greatness, until he becomes too useless for even -such a position, is locked up for repeated drunkenness, and finally dies -in a gutter. - -The 'cranky' long-bearded shepherd vegetates on a back-block station, -amid desert regions now becoming traditionary, where wire fences are all -unknown, or by dingoes rendered ineffectual. - -A row of books adorns his solitary hut, a weekly paper, perhaps his -sponge and ivory-backed brushes, curious-appearing souvenirs of old -days. He talks pleasantly enough to the rare-appearing stranger, who is -also a gentleman. The British tourist, if a new arrival, rides off with -pity in his heart, possibly with some idea of aiding the hermit to -return to his friends in England. If a colonist, he knows better; knows -that the old man has his half-yearly or annual 'break-out'; that he can -no more inhabit the same dwelling as ardent spirits without utter -debasement than fly; that such will be his life, without change or -amendment, until he ends it in a Benevolent Asylum, or, more probably, -is found dead in his hut. Then from his papers it will be discovered -that 'Old Jack' or 'Jindabyne Joe' was, once upon a time, Lieutenant -Harry Willoughby Howard of the—th Fusiliers, one of the smartest -subalterns in that distinguished and tolerably fast regiment. What -brought him here? How fared he so ill in Australia, where blue blood -always counts for something, the Radical press notwithstanding? Heigho! -These and other questions may be answered some day, or they may never -be. The nearest magistrate holds an inquiry, sitting on a bench outside -of the lonely hut on the sandhill. The overseer counts out his flock to -a fresh hand, and the ex-Fusilier, younger brother of one of the -magnates of Blankshire, is carted into the head station and decently -buried, with the collie dog as chief mourner, _his_ grief being real and -unaffected, and his lamentations for the next few days touchingly -audible. - -Having a favourite horse to put in harness in the early goldfield days, -I betook me to an establishment in Melbourne where a brake was kept. Of -course I mounted the box to watch and perhaps assist in the interesting -performance. When the brakesman got up—a good-looking middle-aged man -with grey whiskers—if he was not a gentleman, and an ex-swell at that, I -had never seen one. From his cravat to his well-polished boots—a neat -foot, too—from his hat to his accurate dogskin gloves, he was 'good -form.' He might have walked straight out of one of Whyte Melville's -novels. - -His 'hands,' in stable language, were perfection, and as he and the -brake-horse between them, with practised adroitness, conducted the drag -and my Zohrab, a slashing grey son of Donald Caird, out of the yard and -up Lonsdale Street, I felt a measureless pity for the dear old man, who, -doubtless failing to score at Bendigo or Sandhurst, had come down to -this for a livelihood. Charmed with his conversation and manners, I am -afraid I prolonged the lesson unduly, for when we returned my -aristocratic friend was urgently required to school other young ones at -a guinea per lesson. The proprietor, a vulgar person, expressed his -disapproval in language unfit for publication. I remonstrated hotly, but -the dependent _emigré_ said no word. I departed sadly, and never saw him -more. Melbourne was full of such derelicts in 'the fifties.' - - - - - SHEARING IN RIVERINA, NEW SOUTH WALES - - -'Shearing begins to-morrow!' These apparently simple words were spoken -by Hugh Gordon, the manager of Anabanco Station, in the district of -Riverina, in the colony of New South Wales, one Monday morning in the -month of August. The utterance had its significance to every member of a -rather extensive _corps dramatique_, awaiting the industrial drama about -to be performed. - -A low sandhill, a few years since, had looked out over a sea of grey -plains, covered partly with grass, partly with salsiferous bushes and -herbs. Three huts built of the trunks of the pine and roofed with the -bark of the box-tree, and a skeleton-looking cattle-yard with its high -'gallows' (a rude timber arrangement whereon to hang slaughtered -cattle), alone broke the monotony of the plain-ocean. A comparatively -small herd of cattle, numbering two or three thousand, found more than -sufficient pasturage during the short winter and spring, but were often -compelled to migrate to mountain pastures when the precarious -water-stores of the 'Run' were dried up. But, at most, half-a-dozen -stock-riders and station hands were ever needed for the purpose of -managing the herd, so inadequate in number and profitable occupation to -this vast area of grazing country. - -But a little later, one of the chiefs of the pastoral interest—a -shepherd king, so to speak—of shrewdness, energy, and capital—had seen, -approved of, and purchased the Crown lease of this waste kingdom. As if -by magic, the scene changed. Gangs of navvies appeared, wending their -way across the silent plain. Dams were made, wells were dug. Tons of -fencing-wire were dropped on the sand by long lines of teams which never -ceased arriving. Sheep by thousands and tens of thousands came grazing -and cropping up to the erstwhile lonely sandhill—now swarming with -blacksmiths, carpenters, engineers, fencers, shepherds, -bullock-drivers—till the place looked like a fair on the borders of -Tartary. - -Meanwhile everything was moving with calculated force and cost, under -the 'reign of law.' The seeming expense illustrated the economic truth -of doing all necessary work at once, rather than by instalments. One -hundred men for one day, rather than one man for a hundred days. Results -began to demonstrate themselves. Within twelve months the dams were -full, the wells sending up their far-fetched, priceless water, the -wire-fences completed, the shepherds gone, and a hundred and seventy -thousand sheep were cropping the herbage of Anabanco. Tuesday was the -day fixed for the actual commencement of the momentous, almost solemn -transaction—the pastoral Hegira, so to speak, as the time of most -station events is calculated with reference to it, as happening before -or after shearing. But before the first shot is fired which tells of the -battle begun, what raids and skirmishes, what reconnoitring and vedette -duty must take place! - -First arrives the cook-in-chief to the shearers, with two assistants, to -lay in a few provisions for the week's consumption of seventy -able-bodied men. Now the cook of a large shearing shed is a highly paid -and irresponsible official. He is chosen and provided by the shearers -themselves. Payment is generally arranged on the scale of half-a-crown a -head weekly from each shearer. For this sum he contracts to provide -punctual and effective cooking, paying out of his own pocket as many -_marmitons_ as may be needful for that end, and must satisfy the taste -of his exacting and fastidious employers. - -In the present case he confers with the storekeeper, Mr. de Vere, a -young gentleman of aristocratic connections, who is thus gaining an -excellent practical knowledge of the working of a large station; and to -this end has the store-keeping department entrusted to him during -shearing. - -He is not, perhaps, quite fit for a croquet party as he stands now, with -a flour-scoop in one hand and a pound of tobacco in the other. But he -looks like a man at work, also like a gentleman, as he is. 'Jack the -Cook' thus addresses him: - -'Now, Mr. de Vere, I hope there's not going to be any humbugging about -my rations and things. The men are all up in their quarters, and as -hungry as free selectors. They've been a-payin' for their rations for -ever so long, and of course, now shearin's on, they're good for a little -extra.' - -'All right, Jack,' returns De Vere good-humouredly; 'your order was -weighed out and sent away before breakfast. You must have missed the -cart. Here's the list. I'll read it out to you—three bags flour, half a -bullock, two bags sugar, a chest of tea, four dozen of pickles, four -dozen of jam, two gallons of vinegar, five lbs. pepper, a bag of salt, -plates, knives, forks, ovens, frying-pans, saucepans, iron pots, and -about a hundred other things. You're to return all the cooking things -safe, or _pay for them_, mind that! You don't want anything more, do -you? Got enough for a regiment of cavalry, I should think.' - -'Well, I don't know, sir. There won't be much left in a week if the -weather holds good,' makes answer the chief, as one who thought nothing -too stupendous to be accomplished by shearers; 'but I knew I'd forgot -something. As I'm here, I'll take a few dozen boxes of sardines, and a -case of pickled salmon. The boys likes 'em, and, murder alive! haven't -we forgot the plums and currants; a hundredweight of each, Mr. de Vere. -They'll be crying out for plum-duff and currant-buns for the afternoon, -and bullying the life out of me if I haven't a few trifles like. It's a -hard life, surely, a shearers' cook. Well, good-day, sir, you have 'em -all down in the book.' - -Lest the reader should imagine that the rule of Mr. Gordon at Anabanco -was a reign of luxury and that waste which tendeth to penury, let him be -aware that shearers in Riverina are paid at a certain rate, usually that -of one pound per hundred sheep shorn. They agree, on the other hand, to -pay for all supplies consumed by them, at certain prices fixed before -the shearing agreement is signed. Hence it is entirely their own affair -whether their mess bills are extravagant or economical. They can have -everything within the rather wide range of the station store—_pâtés de -foie gras_, ortolans, roast ostrich, novels, top-boots, double-barrelled -guns, _if they like to pay for them_; with one exception—no wine, no -spirits! Neither are they permitted to bring these stimulants 'on to the -ground' for their private use. Grog at shearing? Matches in a -powder-mill! It's very sad and bad; but our Anglo-Saxon industrial -champion cannot be trusted with the fire-water. Navvies, men-of-war's -men, soldiers, _and_ shearers—fine fellows all. But though the younger -men might only drink in moderation, the majority of the elders are -utterly without self-control, once in the front of temptation. And wars, -'wounds without cause,' hot heads, shaking hands, delay, and bad -shearing, would be the inevitable result of spirits, _à la discrétion_. -So much is this a matter of certainty from experience, that a clause is -inserted and cheerfully signed in most shearing agreements, 'that any -man getting drunk or bringing spirits on to the station during shearing, -loses _the whole of the money_ earned by him.' The men know that the -restriction is for their benefit, as well as for the interest of the -master, and join in the prohibition heartily. - -Let us give a glance at the small army of working-men assembled at -Anabanco—one out of hundreds of stations in the colony of New South -Wales, ranging from 100,000 sheep downwards. There are seventy shearers; -about fifty washers, including the men connected with the steam-engine, -boilers, bricklayers, etc.; ten or twelve boundary riders, whose duty it -is to ride round the large paddocks, seeing that the fences are intact, -and keeping a general look-out over the condition of the sheep; three or -four overseers; half-a-dozen young gentlemen acquiring a practical -knowledge of sheep-farming, or, as it is generally phrased, 'colonial -experience,' a comprehensive expression enough; a score or so of -teamsters, with a couple of hundred horses or bullocks waiting for the -high-piled wool-bales, which are loaded up and sent away almost as soon -as shorn; wool-sorters, pickers-up, pressers, yardsmen, extra shepherds. -It may easily be gathered from this outline what an 'army with banners' -is arrayed at Anabanco. While statistically inclined, it may be added -that the cash due for the shearing alone (less the mess-bill) amounts to -£17,000; for the washing (roughly), £400, exclusive of provisions -consumed, hutting, wood, water, cooking, etc. Carriage of wool, £1500. -Other hands from £30 to £40 per week. All of which disbursements take -place within eight to twelve weeks after the shears are in the first -sheep. - -Tuesday arrives, 'big with fate.' As the sun tinges the far sky-line the -shearers are taking a slight refection of coffee and currant-buns, to -enable them to withstand the exhausting interval between six A.M. and -eight o'clock, when serious breakfast occurs. Shearers diet themselves -on the principle that the more they eat the stronger they must be. -Digestion, as preliminary to muscular development, is left to take its -chance. They certainly do get through a tremendous amount of work. The -whole frame is at its utmost tension, early and late. But the -preservation of health is due to natural strength of constitution rather -than to their profuse and unscientific diet. Half an hour after sunrise -Mr. Gordon walks quietly into the vast building which contains the sheep -and their shearers—called 'the shed,' _par excellence_. Everything is in -perfect cleanliness and order. The floor swept and smooth, with its -carefully planed boards of pale yellow aromatic pine. Small tramways, -with baskets for the fleeces, run the wool up to the wool-tables, -superseding the more general plan of handpicking. At each side of the -shed-floor are certain small areas, four or five feet square, such space -being found by experience to be sufficient for the postures and -gymnastics practised during the shearing of a sheep. Opposite each -square is an aperture, communicating with a long, narrow, paled yard, -outside of the shed. Through this each man pops his sheep when shorn, -where he remains in company with the others shorn by the same hand, -until counted out. This being done by the overseer or manager, supplies -a check upon hasty, unskilful work. The body of the woolshed, floored -with battens placed half an inch apart, is filled with the woolly -victims. This enclosure is subdivided into minor pens, of which each -fronts the place of two shearers, who catch from it till the pen is -empty. When this takes place, a man detailed for the purpose refills it. -As there are local advantages, an equal distribution of places is made -by lot. - -On every subdivision stands a shearer, as Mr. Gordon walks, with an air -of calm authority, down the long aisle. Seventy men, chiefly in their -prime, the flower of the working-men of the colony, they are variously -gathered. England, Ireland, and Scotland are represented in the -proportion of one-third of the number; the balance is composed of -native-born Australians. - -Among these last—of pure Anglo-Saxon or Anglo-Celtic descent—are to be -seen some of the finest men, physically considered, the race is capable -of producing. Taller than their British-born brethren, with softer -voices and more regular features, they inherit the powerful frames and -unequalled muscular development of the breed. Leading lives chiefly -devoted to agriculture, they enjoy larger intervals of leisure than are -permissible to the labouring classes of Europe. The climate is mild and -favourable to health. They have been accustomed from childhood to -abundance of the best food; opportunities of intercolonial travel are -common. Hence the Anglo-Australian labourer, without, on the one hand, -the sharpened eagerness which marks his Transatlantic cousin, has yet an -air of independence and intelligence, combined with a natural grace of -movement, unknown to the peasantry of Britain. - -An idea is prevalent that the Australians are, as a race, physically -inferior to the British. It is asserted that they grow too fast, tend to -height and slenderness, and do not possess adequate stamina and muscle. -This idea is erroneous. The men reared in the cities on the sea-boards, -living sedentary lives in shops or counting-houses, are often pallid and -slight of form. Such are they who live under similar conditions all over -the world. But those youngsters who have followed the plough on the -upland farms, or lived a wilder life on the stations of the far -interior; who have had their fill of wheaten bread, chops, and steaks -since they could walk, and sniffed up the free bush breezes from -infancy, they are _men_— - - Stout of heart and ready of hand, - As e'er drove prey from Cumberland - -—a business, I may remark, at which many of them would have -distinguished themselves. - -Take Abraham Lawson, as he stands there in a natural and unstudied -attitude, six feet four in his stockings, wide-chested, stalwart, with a -face like that of a Greek statue. Take Billy May, fair-haired, mild, -insouciant, almost languid, till you see him at work. Then, again, Jack -Windsor, handsome, saucy, and wiry as a bull-terrier; like him, with a -strong natural inclination for the combat; good for any man of his -weight or a trifle over, with the gloves or without. - -It is curious to note how the old English practice of settling disputes -with nature's weapons has taken root in Australia. It would 'gladden the -sullen souls of defunct gladiators' to watch two lads, whose fathers had -never trodden Britain's soil, pull off their jackets, and go to work -'hammer and tongs' with the savage silence of the true island type. - -It is now seven o'clock. Mr. Gordon moves forward. As he does so, every -man leans towards the open door of the pen, in front of which he stands. -The bell sounds. With the first stroke each one of the seventy men has -sprung upon a sheep; has drawn it out, placed its head across his knee, -and is working his shears, as if the 'last man out' was to be flogged. -Four minutes—James Steadman, who learned last year, has shorn down one -side of his sheep; Jack Holmes and Gundagai Bill are well down the other -side of theirs; when Billy May raises himself with a jerking sigh, and -releases his sheep, perfectly clean—shorn from the nose to the heels, -through the aperture of his separate enclosure. With the same effort -apparently he calls out 'Wool!' and darts upon another sheep. Drawing -this second victim across his knee, he buries his shear-point in the -long wool of its neck. A moment later (a lithe, eager boy having -gathered up fleece number one and tossed it into the tram-basket) he is -half-way down its side, the wool hanging in one fleece like a great -glossy mat, before you have done wondering whether he did really shear -the first sheep, or whether he had not a ready-shorn one in his coat -sleeve, like a conjurer. By this time Lawson and Windsor, Jack Holmes -and Gundagai Bill are 'out,' or finished, and the cry of 'Wool! wool!' -seems to run continuously up and down the long aisles of the shed, like -a single note upon some rude instrument. Now and then the refrain is -varied by 'Tar!' being shouted instead, when a piece of skin is snipped -off as well as the wool. Great healing properties are attributed to this -extract in the shed. And if a shearer slice off a piece of flesh from -his own person, as occasionally happens, he gravely anoints it with the -universal remedy, and considers that the onus then lies with Providence, -there being no more that man can do. Though little time is lost, the men -are by no means up to the speed which they will attain in a few days, -when in full practice and training. Their nerve and muscle will be then, -so to speak, at concert-pitch, while sheep after sheep will be shorn -with a precision and celerity almost magical to the unprofessional -observer. - -The reader may here be informed that speed and completeness of -denudation are the grand desiderata in shearing. The employer thinks -principally of the latter, the shearer of the former. To adjust the -proportion equitably is one of the incomplete aspirations which torment -humanity. Hence the contest—old as human society—between labour and -capital. - -This is the first day. According to old-established custom, a kind of -truce obtains. It is before the battle—the _salut_, when no hasty word -or too demonstrative action can be suffered by the canons of good taste. -Red Bill, Flash Jack, Jem the Scooper, and other roaring blades, more -famous for expedition than faithful manipulation, are shearing to-day -with a painstaking precision, as of men to whom character is everything. -Mr. Gordon marches softly up and down, regarding the shearers with a -paternal and gratified expression, occasionally hinting at slight -improvements of style, or expressing unqualified approval, as a sheep is -turned out shaven rather than shorn. All goes on well. Nothing is heard -but expressions of goodwill and enthusiasm for the general welfare. It -is a triumph of the dignity of labour. - -One o'clock. Mr. Gordon moved to the bell and sounded it. At the first -stroke several men on their way to the pens stopped abruptly, and began -to put on their coats. One fellow of an alert nature had just finished -his sheep and was sharpening his shears, when his eye caught Mr. -Gordon's form in close proximity to the final bell. With a bound like a -wild-cat, he reached the pen and drew out his sheep a bare second before -the first stroke, amidst the laughter and congratulations of his -comrades. Another man had his hand on the pen-gate at the same instant, -but by the Median law was compelled to return sheepless. He was cheered, -but ironically. Those whose sheep were in an unfinished stage quietly -completed them, the others moving off to the dinner, where the board -literally smoked with abundance. An hour passed. The meal was concluded; -the smoke was over; and the more careful men were back in the shed -sharpening their shears by two o'clock. Punctually at that hour the bell -repeated its summons _da capo_. The warm afternoon gradually lengthened -its shadows; the shears clicked in tireless monotone; the pens filled -and became empty. The wool-presses yawned for the mountain of fleeces -which filled the bins in front of them, divided into various grades of -excellence, and continuously disgorged them, neatly, cubically packed -and branded. - -At six o'clock the bell brought the day's work to a close. The sheep of -each man were counted in his presence, and noted down with scrupulous -care, the record being written in full and hung up for public inspection -in the shed next day. This important ceremony over, master and men, -manager, labourers, and supernumeraries betook themselves to their -separate abodes, with such avoidance of delay that in five minutes not a -soul was left in or near the great building lately so busy and populous, -except the boys who were sweeping up the floor. The silence of ages -seems to fall and settle upon it. - -Next morning at a rather earlier hour every man is at his post. Business -is meant decidedly. Now commences the delicate and difficult part of the -superintendence which keeps Mr. Gordon at his post in the shed nearly -from daylight to dark for from eight to ten weeks. During the first day -he has formed a sort of gauge of each man's temper and workmanship. For -now and henceforth the natural bias of each shearer will appear. Some -try to shear too fast, and in their haste shear badly. Some are rough -and savage with the sheep, which do occasionally kick and become unquiet -at critical times, and, it must be confessed, are provoking enough. Some -shear fairly and handsomely to a superficial eye, but commit the -unpardonable offence of 'leaving wool on.' Some are deceitful, shearing -carefully when overlooked, but 'racing' and otherwise misbehaving -directly the eye of authority is diverted. These and many other tricks -and defects require to be noted and abated, quietly but firmly, by the -manager of the shed—firmly, because evil would develop and spread -ruinously if not checked; quietly, because immense loss might be -incurred by a strike. Shearing differs from other work in this wise—it -is work _against time_, more especially in Riverina. If the wool be not -off the backs of the sheep before November, all sorts of drawbacks and -destructions supervene. The spear-shaped grass seeds, specially formed -as if in special collusion with the evil one, hasten to bury themselves -in the wool and even in the flesh of the tender victims. Dust rises in -red clouds from the unmoistened, betrampled meadows, so lately verdurous -and flower-spangled. From snowy white to an unlovely bistre turn the -carefully-washed fleeces, causing anathemas from overseers and -depreciation from brokers. All these losses of temper, trouble, and -money become inevitable if shearing be protracted, it may be, beyond a -given week. - -Hence, as in harvest with a short allowance of fair weather, discipline -must be tempered with diplomacy. Lose your temper, and be over -particular; off go Billy May, Abraham Lawson, and half-a-dozen of your -best men, making a weekly difference of two or three thousand sheep for -the remainder of the shearing. Can you not replace them? Not so! Every -shed in Riverina will be hard at work during this present month of -September and for every hour of October. Till that time not a shearer -will come to your gate, except, perhaps, one or two useless, -characterless men. Are you to tolerate bad workmanship? Not that either. -But try all other means with your men before you resort to harshness; -and be _quite_ certain that your sentence is just, and that you can -afford the defection. - -So our friend Mr. Gordon, wise from tens of thousands of shorn sheep -that have been counted out past his steady eye, criticises temperately -but watchfully. He reproves sufficiently, but no more, any glaring -fault; makes his calculation as to who are really bad shearers, and can -be discharged without loss to the commonwealth; or who shear fairly and -can be coached up to a decent average. One division, slow, and good only -when slow, have to be watched lest they emulate 'the talent,' and so -come to grief. Then 'the talent' has to be mildly admonished from time -to time lest they force the pace, set a bad example, and lure the other -men on to 'racing.' This last leads to slovenly shearing, ill-usage of -the sheep, and general dissatisfaction. - -Tact, temper, patience, and firmness are each and all necessary -attributes in that captain of industry who has the delicate and -responsible task of superintending a large woolshed. Hugh Gordon had -shown all in such proportion as would have made him a distinguished -person anywhere, had fortune not adjusted for him this particular -profession. Calm with the consciousness of strength, he was considerate -in manner as in nature, until provoked by glaring dishonesty or -incivility. Then the lion part of his nature awoke, so that it commonly -went ill with the aggressor. As this was matter of public report, he had -little occasion to spoil the repose of his bearing. Day succeeds day, -and for a fortnight the machinery goes on smoothly and successfully. The -sheep arrive at an appointed hour by detachments and regiments at the -wash-pen. They depart thence, like good boys on Saturday night, redolent -of soap and water, and clean to a fault—entering the shed white and -flossy as newly-combed poodles, to emerge on the way back to their -pasturage, slim, delicate, agile, with a bright black =A= legibly -branded with tar on their paper-white skins. - -The Anabanco world—stiffish but undaunted—is turning out of bed one -morning. Ha! what sounds are these? and why does the room look so dark? -Rain, as I'm alive! 'Hurrah!' says Master Jack Bowles, one of the young -gentlemen. He is learning (more or less) practical sheep-farming, -preparatory to having (one of these days) an Anabanco of his own. 'Well, -this is a change, and I'm not sorry, for one,' quoth Mr. Jack. 'I'm -stiff all over. No one can stand such work long. Won't the shearers -growl? No shearing to-day, and perhaps none to-morrow either.' Truth to -tell, Mr. Bowles' sentiments are not confined to his ingenuous bosom. -Some of the shearers grumble at being stopped, 'just as a man was -earning a few shillings.' Those who are in top pace and condition don't -like it. But to many of the rank and file—working up to and a little -beyond their strength—with whom swelled wrists and other protests of -nature are becoming apparent, it is a relief. They are glad of the -respite. At dinner-time all the sheep in the sheds, put in overnight in -anticipation of such a contingency, are reported shorn. All hands then -are idle for the rest of the day. The shearers dress and avail -themselves of various resources. Some go to look at their horses, now in -clover or its equivalent, in the Riverina graminetum. Some play cards, -others wash or mend their clothes. A large proportion of the -Australians, having armed themselves with paper, envelopes, and a -shilling's worth of stamps from the store, bethink themselves of -neglected or desirable correspondents. Many a letter for Mrs. Leftalone, -Wallaroo Creek, or Miss Jane Sweetapple, Honeysuckle Flat, as the case -may be, will find its way into the post-bag to-morrow. A pair of the -youngsters are having a round or two with the gloves; while to complete -the variety of recreations compatible with life at a woolshed, a -selected troupe are busy in the comparative solitude of that building, -at a rehearsal of a tragedy and a farce, with which they intend, the -very next rainy day, to astonish the population of Anabanco. - -At the home station a truce to labour's 'alarms' is proclaimed, except -in the case and person of Mr. De Vere. So far is he from participation -in the general holiday, that he finds the store thronged with shearers, -washers, and 'knockabout men,' who, being let loose, think it would be -nice to go and buy something. He therefore grumbles slightly at having -no rest like other people. - -'That's all very fine,' says Mr. Jack Bowles, who, seated on a case, is -smoking a large meerschaum and mildly regarding all things; 'but what -have you got to do when we're all _hard at work_ at the shed?' with an -air of great importance and responsibility. - -'That's right, Mr. Bowles,' chimes in one of the shearers; 'stand up for -the shed. I never see a young gentleman work as hard as you do.' - -'Bosh!' growls De Vere; 'as if anybody couldn't gallop about from the -shed to the wash-pen, and carry messages, and give half of them wrong! -Why, Mr. Gordon said the other day he should have to take you off and -put on a Chinaman—that he couldn't make more mistakes.' - -'All envy and malice and t'other thing, De Vere, because you think I'm -rising in the profession,' returns the good-natured Bowles. 'Mr. -Gordon's going to send 20,000 sheep, after shearing, to the Lik Lak -paddock, and he said I should go in charge.' - -'Charge be hanged!' laughs De Vere (with two very bright-patterned -Crimean shirts, one in each hand, which he offers to a tall young -shearer for inspection). 'There's a well there, and whenever either of -the two men, of whom you'll have _charge_, gets sick or runs away, -you'll have to work the whim in his place, till another man's sent out, -if it's a month.' - -This appalling view of station promotion rather startles Mr. Bowles, who -applies himself to his meerschaum, amid the ironical comments of the -shearers. However, not easily daunted, or 'shut up,' according to the -more familiar station phrase, he rejoins, after a brief interval of -contemplation, that 'accidents will happen, you know, De Vere, my -boy—_apropos_ of which moral sentiment, I'll come and help you in your -dry-goods business; and then, look here, if _you_ get ill or run away, -I'll have a profession to fall back upon.' This is held to be a Roland -of sufficient pungency for De Vere's Oliver. Every one laughed. And the -two youngsters betook themselves to a humorous puffing of the -miscellaneous contents of the store: tulip beds of gorgeous Crimean -shirts, boots, books, tobacco, canvas slippers, pocket-knives, Epsom -salts, pipes, pickles, pain-killer, pocket-handkerchiefs, and pills, -sardines, saddles, shears, and sauces; in fact, everything which every -kind of man might want, and which apparently every man did want, for -large and various were the purchases, and great the flow of -conversation. Finally, after everything had been severely and accurately -debited to the purchasers, the store was cleared and locked up. A store -is a necessity of a large station; not by any means because of the -profit upon goods sold, but it obviously would be bad economy for old -Bill the shepherd, or Barney the bullock-driver, to visit the next -township, from ten to twenty miles distant, as the case may be, every -time the former wanted a pound of tobacco, or the latter a pair of -boots. They might possibly obtain these necessary articles as good in -quality, as cheap in price. But there are wolves in that wood, oh, my -weak brothers! In every town dwells one of the 'sons of the giant'—the -Giant Grog—red-eyed, with steel muscles and iron claws; once in these, -which have held many and better men to the death, Barney nor Bill -emerges not, save pale, fevered, nerveless, and impecunious. So arose -the station store. Barney befits himself with boots without losing his -feet; Bill fills his pockets with match-boxes and smokes the pipe of -sobriety, virtuous perforce till his carnival, _after_ shearing. - -The next day was wet, and threatened broken weather. Matters were not -too placid with the shearers. A day or two for rest is all very well, -but continuous wet weather means compulsory idleness, and gloom succeeds -repose; for not only are all hands losing time and earning no money, but -they are, to use the language of the stable, 'eating their heads off' -the while. The rather profuse mess and general expenditure, which caused -little reflection when they were earning at the rate of two or three -hundred a year, became unpleasantly suggestive now that all was going -out and nothing coming in. Hence loud and deep rose the anathemas, as -the discontented men gazed sadly or wrathfully at the misty sky. - -A few days' showery weather having well-nigh driven our shearers to -desperation, out comes the sun in all his glory. He is never far away or -very faint in Riverina. - -All the pens are filled for the morrow; very soon after the earliest -sunbeams, the bell sounds its welcome summons, and the whole force -tackles to the work with an ardour proportioned to the delay, every man -working as if for the ransom of his family from slavery. These men work, -spurred on by the double excitement of acquiring social reputation and -making money rapidly. Not an instant is lost; not a nerve, limb, or -muscle doing less than the hardest taskmaster could flog out of a slave. -Occasionally you see a shearer, after finishing his sheep, walk quietly -out, and not appearing for a couple of hours, or perhaps not again -during the day. Do not put him down as a sluggard; be assured that he -has tasked Nature dangerously hard, and has only just given in before -she does. Look at that silent, slight youngster, with a bandage round -his swollen wrist. Every 'blow' of the shears is agony to him, yet he -disdains to give in, and has been working 'in distress' for hours. The -pain is great, as you can see by the flush which surges across his brown -face, yet he goes on manfully to the last sheep, and endures to the very -verge of fainting. - -A change in the manner and tone of the shed is apparent towards the end -of the day. It is now the ding-dong of the desperate fray, when the -blood of the fierce animal man is up, when mortal blows are exchanged, -and curses float upwards with the smoke and dust. The ceaseless clicking -of the shears—the stern earnestness of the men, toiling with feverish, -tireless energy—the constant succession of sheep shorn and let go, -caught and commenced—the occasional savage oath or passionate gesture, -as a sheep kicked and struggled with perverse, delaying obstinacy—the -cuts and stabs, with attendant effusion of blood, both of sheep and -shearers—the brief decided tones of Mr. Gordon, in repression or -command—all told the spectator that tragic action was introduced into -the performance; indeed, one of the minor excitements of shearing was -then and there transacted. Mr. Gordon had more than once warned a dark, -sullen-looking man that he did not approve of his style of shearing. He -was temporarily absent, and on his return found the same man about to -let go a sheep, whose appearance, as a shorn wool-bearing quadruped, was -painful and discreditable in the extreme. - -'Let your sheep go, my man,' said he, in a tone which arrested the -attention of the shearers; 'but don't trouble yourself to catch -another.' - -'Why not?' said the delinquent sulkily. - -'You know very well why not!' said Gordon, walking closely up to him, -and looking straight at him with eyes that began to glitter. 'You've had -fair warning; you've not chosen to take it. Now you can go!' - -'I suppose you'll pay a man for the sheep he's shorn?' growled out the -ruffian. - -'Not one shilling until after shearing. You can come then, if you like,' -answered Mr. Gordon with perfect distinctness. - -The bully looks savage; but the tall, powerful frame and steady eye were -not inviting for personal arbitration of the matter in hand. He puts up -his two pairs of shears, takes up his coat, and walks out of the shed. -The time was past when Red Bill or Terrible Dick (ruffians whom a sparse -labour market rendered necessary evils) would have flung down his shears -on the floor and told the manager that if he didn't like that shearing -he could shear his —— sheep himself and be hanged to him; or, on refusal -of instant payment, would have proposed to bury his shears in the -intestines of his employer, by way of adjusting the balance between -Capital and Labour. Wild tales are told of woolshed rows. One squatter -at least was stabbed mortally with that fatal and too convenient weapon, -a shear-blade. - -The man thus summarily dealt with could, like most of his companions, -shear very well if he took pains. Keeping to a moderate number of sheep, -his workmanship could be good; but he must needs try and keep up with -Billy May or Abraham Lawson, who can shear from a hundred to a hundred -and thirty sheep per day, and do them beautifully. So in 'racing' he -works hastily and badly, cuts the skin of his luckless sheep, and leaves -wool here and there on them, grievous and exasperating to behold. So -sentence of expulsion goes forth fully against him. Having arrayed -himself for the road, he makes one more effort for a settlement and some -money wherewith to pay for board and lodgings on the road. Only to have -a mad carouse at the nearest township, however; after which he will tell -a plausible story of his leaving the shed on account of Mr. Gordon's -temper, and avail himself of the usual free hospitality of the bush to -reach another shed. He addresses Mr. Gordon with an attempt at -conciliation and deference: - -'It seems very 'ard, sir, as a man can't get the trifle of money coming -to him, which I've worked 'ard for.' - -'It's very hard you won't try and shear decently,' retorts Mr. Gordon, -by no means conciliated. 'Leave the shed!' - -Ill-conditioned rascal as he is, he has a mate or travelling-companion -in whose breast exists some rough ideas of fidelity. He now takes up the -dialogue. - -'I suppose if Jim's shearing don't suit, mine won't either.' - -'I did not speak to you,' answered Mr. Gordon, as calmly as if he had -expected the speech; 'but of course you can go too.' He said this with -an air of studied unconcern, as if he would rather like a dozen more men -to knock off work. The two men walk out; but the epidemic does not -spread; and several take the lesson home and mend their ways -accordingly. - -The weather is now splendid. Not a cloud specks the bright blue sky. The -shearers continue to work at the same express-train pace; fifty bales of -wool roll every day from the wool-presses; as fast as they reach that -number they are loaded upon one of the numerous drays and waggons which -have been waiting for weeks. Tall brown men have been recklessly cutting -up hides for the last fortnight, wherewith to lash the bales securely. -It is considered safer practice to load wool as soon as may be; fifty -bales represent about a thousand pounds sterling. In a building, however -secure, should a fire break out, a few hundred bales are easily burned; -but once on the dray, this much-dreaded _edax rerum_ in a dry country -has little chance. The driver, responsible to the extent of his freight, -generally sleeps under his dray; hence both watchman and insulation are -provided. - -The unrelaxing energy with which work is pushed at this stage is -exciting and contagious. At or before daylight every soul in the great -establishment is up. The boundary riders are always starting off for a -twenty or thirty mile ride, and bringing tens of thousands of sheep to -the wash-pen; at that huge lavatory, there is splashing and soaking all -day with an army of washers; not a moment is lost from daylight till -dark, or used for any purpose save the all-engrossing work and needful -food. At nine o'clock P.M. luxurious dreamless sleep obtains, given only -to those whose physical powers have been taxed to the utmost, and who -can bear without injury the daily tension. - -Everything and everybody is in splendid working order, nothing is out of -gear. Rapid and regular as a steam-engine the great host of toilers -moves onward daily, with a march promising an early completion. Mr. -Gordon is not in high spirits, for so cautious and far-seeing a captain -rarely feels himself so independent of circumstances as to indulge in -that reckless mood, but much satisfied with the prospect. Whew! the -afternoon darkens, and the night is given over to waterspouts and -hurricanes, as it appears. Next day is raw, gusty, with chill heavy -showers, drains to be cut, roofs to be seen to, shorn sheep shivering, -washers all playing pitch-and-toss, shearers sulky; everybody but the -young gentlemen wearing an injured expression of countenance. 'Looks as -if it would rain for a month,' says Long Jack. 'If we hadn't been -delayed, might have had the shearing over by this.' Reminded that there -are 50,000 sheep yet remaining to be shorn, and that by no possibility -could they have been finished; answers, 'He supposes so, always the -same, everything sure to go agin the pore man.' The weather does not -clear up. Winter seems to have taken thought, and determined to assert -his rights even in this land of eternal summer. The shed is filled, and -before the sheep so kept dry are shorn, down comes the rain again. Not a -full day's shearing for ten days. Then the clouds disappear as if the -curtain of a stage had been rolled up, and lo! the golden sun, fervid -and impatient to obliterate the track of winter. - -On the first day after the recommencement, matters go much as usual. -Steady work and little talk; every one is apparently anxious to make up -for lost time. But on the second morning after breakfast, when the bell -sounds, instead of the usual cheerful dash at the sheep, every man -stands silent and motionless in his place. Some one uttered the words -'Roll up!' Then the seventy men converge, and slowly, but with one -impulse, walk to the end of the shed, where stands Mr. Gordon. - -The concerted action of any large body of men bears with it an element -of power which commands respect. The weapons of force and number are -theirs; at their option to wield with or without mercy. At one period of -Australian colonisation a superintendent in Mr. Gordon's position might -have had good ground for uneasiness. Mr. Jack Bowles sees in it an -_émeute_ of a democratic and sanguinary nature; regrets deeply his -absent revolver, but draws up to his leader, prepared to die by his -side. That calm centurion feels no such serious misgivings. He knows -there had been dire grumbling among the shearers, in consequence of the -weather. He knows of malcontents among them. He is prepared for some -sort of demand on their part, and has concluded to make moderate -concessions. So, looking cheerfully at the men, he quietly awaits the -deputation. As they near him there is some hesitation; then three -delegates come to the front. These are old Ben, Abraham Lawson, and -Billy May. Ben Thornton had been selected from his age and long -experience of the rights and laws of the craft. A weather-beaten, wiry -old Englishman, his face and accent, darkened as the former is by the -Australian summers of half a century, still retain the trace of his -native Devonshire. It is his boast that he had shorn for forty years, -and as regularly 'knocked down' (or spent in a single debauch) his -shearing money. Lawson represents the small free-holders, being a -steady, shrewd fellow, and one of the fastest shearers. Billy May stands -for the fashion and 'talent,' being the 'Ringer,' or fastest shearer of -the whole assembly, and as such truly admirable and distinguished. - -'Well now, men,' quoth Mr. Gordon, cheerily meeting matters half-way, -'what's it all about?' The younger delegates look at old Ben, who, now -that it was 'demanded of him to speak the truth,' or such dilution -thereof as might seem most favourable to the interests of the shed, -found a difficulty, like many wiser men, about his exordium. - -'Well, Muster Gordon, look'ee here, sir. The weather's been summat -awful, and clean agin' shearin'. We've not been earning our grub, and——' - -'So it has,' answered the manager, 'so it has; but can I help the -weather? I'm as anxious as you are to have the shearing over quickly. -We're both of us of one mind about that, eh?' - -'That's right enough, sir,' strikes in Abraham Lawson, feeling that Ben -was getting the worst of the argument, and was moreover far less fluent -than usual, probably from being deprived of the aid of the customary -expletives; 'but we're come to say this, sir, that the season's turned -out very wet indeed; we've had a deal of broken time, and the men feel -it hard to be paying for a lot of rations, and hardly earning anything. -We're shearing the sheep very close and clean. You won't have 'em done -no otherways. Not like some sheds where a man can "run" a bit and make -up for lost time. Now, we've all come to think this, sir, that if we're -to go on shearing the sheep well, and stick to them, so as to get them -done before the dust and grass-seed come in, you ought to make us some -allowance. We know we've agreed for so much a hundred, and all that. -Still, the season's turned out so out-and-out bad, and we hope you'll -consider it and make it up to us somehow.' - -'Never knew a worse year,' corroborated Billy May, who thought it -indispensable to say something; 'haven't made enough, myself, to pay the -cook.' - -This was not strictly true, at any rate, as to Master Billy's own -earnings; he being such a remarkably fast shearer (and good withal), -that he had always a respectable sum credited to him for his day's work, -even when many of the slower men came off short enough. However, enough -had been said to make Mr. Gordon fully comprehend the case. The men were -dissatisfied. They had come in a roundabout way to the conclusion that -some concession, not mentioned in their bond, should come from the side -of Capital to that of Labour. Whether wages, interest of capital, share -of profits or reserved fund, they knew not, nor cared. This was their -stand. And being Englishmen they intended to abide by it. - -The manager had considered the situation before it actually arose. He -now rapidly took in the remaining points of debate. The shearers had -signed a specific agreement for a stipulated rate of payment, -irrespective of the weather. By the letter of the law they had no case. -Whether they made little or much profit was not his affair. But he was a -just and kindly man, as well as reasonably politic. They had shorn well, -and the weather had been discouraging. He knew, too, that an abrupt -denial might cause a passive mutiny, if not a strike. If they set -themselves to thwart him, it was in their power to shear badly, to shear -slowly, and to force him to discharge many of them. He might have them -fined, perhaps imprisoned by the police court. Meanwhile how could -shearing go on? Dust and grass-seeds would soon be upon them. He -resolved on a compromise, and spoke out at once in a decided tone, as -the men gathered yet more closely around him. - -'Look here, all of you! You know well that I'm not bound to find you in -good shearing weather. Still, I'm aware that the season has been against -you; you have shorn pretty well, so far, though I've had to make -examples, and am quite ready to make more. What I am willing to do is -this: to every man who works on till the finish, and shears to my -satisfaction, I will make a fair allowance in the ration account. That -is, I will make no charge for the beef. Does that suit you? There was a -chorus of 'All right, sir, we're satisfied.' 'Mr. Gordon always does the -fair thing,' etc. And work was immediately resumed with alacrity. - -The clerk of the weather, too gracious even in these regions, as far as -the absence of rain is concerned, became steadily propitious. - -Cloudless skies and a gradually ascending thermometer were the signs -that spring was changing into summer. The splendid herbage ripened and -dried; patches of bare earth began to be discernible amid the late -thick-swarded pastures, dust to rise, and cloud-pillars of sand to float -and eddy—the desert genii of the Arab. But the work went on at a high -rate of speed, outpacing the fast-coming summer; and before any serious -disaster arose, the last flock was 'on the battens,' and amid ironical -congratulations the 'cobbler' (or last sheep) was seized, and stripped -of his dense and difficult fleece. In ten minutes the vast woolshed, -lately echoing with the ceaseless click of the shears, the jests, the -songs, the oaths of the rude congregation, was silent and deserted. The -floors were swept, the pens closed, the sheep on their way to a distant -paddock. Not a soul remains about the building but the pressers, who -stay to work at the rapidly lessening piles of fleece in the bins, or a -meditative teamster who sits musing on a wool-bale, absorbed in a -calculation as to when his load will be made up. - -It is sundown, a rather later time of closing than usual, but rendered -necessary by the possibility of the grand finale. The younger men troop -over to the hut, larking like schoolboys. Abraham Lawson throws a poncho -over his broad shoulders, lights his pipe, and strides along, towering -above the rest, erect and stately as a guardsman. Considerably more than -you or I, reader, would have been, had we shorn a hundred and -thirty-four sheep, as he has done to-day. Billy May has shorn a hundred -and forty-two, and he puts his hand on the four-foot paling fence of the -yard and vaults over it like a deer, preparatory to a swim in the creek. -At dinner you will see them all, with fresh Crimeans and jerseys, clean, -comfortable, and in grand spirits. Next morning is settling day. The -book-keeping department at Anabanco being severely correct, all is in -readiness. Each man's tally, or number of sheep shorn, has been entered -daily to his credit. His private and personal investments at the store -have been as duly debited. The shearers, as a corporation, have been -charged with the multifarious items of their rather copious mess-bill. -This sum-total is divided by the number of the shearers, the extract -being the amount for which each man is liable. This sum varies in its -weekly proportion, at different sheds. With an extravagant cook, or -cooks, the weekly bill is often alarming. When the men and their -functionary study economy, it may be kept reasonably low. - -The men have been sitting or standing about the office for half an hour, -when Mr. Jack Bowles rushes out and shouts, 'William May.' That young -person, excessively clean, attired in a quiet tweed suit, with his hair -cut correctly short, advances with an air of calm intrepidity, and faces -Mr. Gordon, now seated at a long table, wearing a judicial expression of -countenance. - -'Well, May! here's your account:— - - So many sheep at £1 per 100 £ - Cook, so many weeks £ - Shearing store account - Private store account - ——— - ——— - Total £ - ====== - -Is the tally of your sheep right?' - -'Oh, I daresay it's all right, Mr. Gordon. I made it so and so; about -ten less.' - -'Well, well; ours is correct, no doubt. Now, I want to make up a good -subscription for the hospital this year. How much will you give? You've -done pretty well, I think.' - -'Put me down a pound, sir.' - -'Very well, that's fair enough. If every one gives what they can afford, -you men will always have a place to go to when you're hurt or laid up. -See, I put your name down, and you'll see it in the published list. Now, -about the shearing, May. I consider that you have done your work -excellently well, and behaved well all through. You're a fast shearer, -but you shear closely, and don't knock your sheep about. I therefore do -not charge you for any part of your meat bill, and I pay you at the rate -of half-a-crown a hundred for all your sheep, _over and above_ your -agreement. Will that do?' - -'Very well indeed, and I'm much obliged to you, Mr. Gordon.' - -'Well, good-bye, May. Always call when you're passing, and if any work -is going on you'll get your share. Here's your cheque. Send in Lawson.' -Exit May in high spirits, having cleared about three pounds per week -during the whole time of shearing, and having lived a far from -unpleasant life, indeed akin to that of a fighting cock, from the -commencement to the end of that period. - -Lawson's interview may be described as having similar results. He also -was a first-class shearer, though not so artistic as the gifted Billy. -Jack Windsor's saucy blue eyes twinkled merrily as he returned to his -companions, and incontinently leaped into the saddle on his wild-eyed -colt. After these worthies came a shearer named Jackson. He belonged to -quite a different class; he could shear well if he pleased, but had a -rooted disbelief that honesty was the best policy, and a fixed -determination to shear as many sheep as he could get the manager to -pass. By dint of close watching, constant reprimand, and occasional -'raddling' (marking badly shorn sheep and refusing to count them), Mr. -Gordon had managed to tone him down to average respectability of -execution; still he was always uneasily aware that whenever his eye was -not upon him, Jackson was doing what he ought not to do, with might and -main. He had indeed kept him on from sheer necessity, but he intended -none the less to mark his opinion of him. - -'Come in, Jackson. Your tally is so and so. Is that right?' - -_Jackson._—'I suppose so.' - -'Cook and store account, so much; shearing account so much.' - -_Jackson._—'And a good deal too.' - -'That is your affair,' said Mr. Gordon, sternly enough. 'Now, look here, -you're in my opinion a bad shearer and a bad man. You have given me a -great deal of trouble, and I should have kicked you out of the shed -weeks ago, if I had not been short of men. I shall make a difference -between you and those who have tried to do their best; I make you no -allowance of any sort; I pay you by the strict agreement; there's your -cheque. Now, go!' - -Jackson goes out with a very black countenance. He mutters, with an -oath, that, if he'd known how he was going to be served 'he'd 'a -"blocked" 'em a little more.' He is believed to have been served right, -and he secures no sympathy whatever. Working-men of all classes in -Australia are shrewd and fair judges generally. If an employer does his -best to mete out justice, he is always appreciated and supported by the -majority. These few instances will serve as a description of the whole -process of settling with the shearers. The horses have been got in. -Great catching and saddling-up has taken place all the morning. By the -afternoon the whole party are dispersed to the four winds: some, like -Abraham Lawson and his friends, to sheds 'higher up,' in a colder -climate, where shearing necessarily commences later. From these they -will pass to others, until the last flocks in the 'mountain runs' are -shorn. Those who have not farms of their own then betake themselves to -reaping. Billy May and Jack Windsor are quite as ready to back -themselves against time in the wheat-field as on the shearing-floor. -Harvest over, they find their pockets inconveniently full, so they -commence to visit their friends and repay themselves for their toils by -a liberal allowance of rest and recreation. - -Old Ben and a few other specimens of the olden time get no further than -the nearest public-house. Their cheques are handed to the landlord, and -a 'sdubendous and derrible spree' sets in. At the end of a week or ten -days, that worthy informs them that they have received liquor to the -amount of their cheques—something over a hundred pounds—save the mark! -They meekly acquiesce, as is their custom. The landlord generously -presents them with a glass of grog each, and they take the road for the -next shed. - -The shearers being despatched, the sheep-washers, a smaller and less -regarded force, file up. They number some forty men. Nothing more than -fair bodily strength, willingness, and obedience being required in their -case, they are more easy to get and replace than shearers. They are a -varied and motley lot. That powerful and rather handsome man is a New -Yorker, of Irish parentage. Next to him is a slight, neat, quiet -individual. He had been a lieutenant in a line regiment. The lad in the -rear was a Sandhurst cadet. Then came two navvies and a New Zealander, -five Chinamen, a Frenchman, two Germans, Tin Pot, Jerry, and -Wallaby—three aboriginal blacks. There are no invidious distinctions as -to caste, colour, or nationality. Every one is a man and a brother at -sheep-washing. Wage, one pound per week; wood, water, tents, and food -provided. Their accounts are simple: so many weeks, so many pounds; -store accounts, so much. Hospital? Well, five shillings. Cheque; -good-morning. - -The wool-pressers, the fleece-rollers, the fleece-pickers, the yardsmen, -the washers' cooks, the hut cooks, the spare shepherds—all these and -other supernumeraries, inevitable at shearing-time, having been paid -off, the snowstorm of cheques which has been fluttering all day comes to -an end. Mr. Gordon and the remaining _sous-officiers_ go to rest that -night with much of the mental strain removed, which has been telling on -every waking moment for the last two months. - -The long train of drays and waggons, with loads varying from twenty to -forty-five bales, has been moving off in detachments since the -commencement. In a day or two the last of them will have rolled heavily -away. The 1400 bales, averaging three and a half hundredweight, are -distributed, slow journeying, along the road, which they mark from afar, -or standing huge and columnar, like guide tumuli, from Anabanco to the -waters of the Murray. Between the two points, a hundred and fifty miles, -there is neither a hill nor a stone. All is one vast monotonous sea of -plain—at this season a prairie-meadow exuberant of vegetation; in the -late summer, or in the occasional and dreaded phenomenon of a _dry -winter_, dusty and herbless as a brickfield, for hundreds of miles. - -Silence falls on the plains and waters of Anabanco for the next six -months. The woolshed, the wash-pen, and all the huts connected with them -are lone and voiceless as caravanserais in a city of the plague. - - - - - ANCIENT SYDNEY - - -Our good barque anchored in Launceston harbour in 1831—about the same -year, by the way, in which Marcus Clarke's dream-ship, the _Malabar_, -ended her eventful voyage to the same port. The writer's father owned -and commanded the vessel. Our steerage passengers were of the same class -as those of the _Malabar_, being a draft of convicts, in process of -deportation to the strange South land, there to undergo experimental -discipline, which to some meant probationary industry—the path to a -prospective fortune; to others, a slave's dread life, a felon's shameful -death. - -Ruffians doubtless cursed and caballed among the two hundred prisoners -which crowded the lower deck, but they were in a minority. A herd of -luckless peasants constituted the main body; found guilty of -rick-burning and machine-breaking only—crimes common enough in England, -before the repeal of the corn-laws. - -Their offences had been but the ignorant, instinctive protest of Labour -against Capital; less dangerous far than the organised communism of the -present day. Poachers and petty larcenists, with other humble criminals, -completed the list. For the most part they were a timid and obedient -company, cowed and unresisting, incapable of planning mutiny or revenge. -Our family party consisted of two tiny sisters and myself, my mother, -and our nursemaid—a resolute, sterling Englishwoman, destined in days to -come to be the best friend our childhood could have found in the new -world or the old. The ordinary military guard, so many rank and file, -with their officers, together with the Surgeon-Superintendent, had been -detailed for the duty of ensuring discipline and the safety of the ship. - -It may well have been that among the band of exiles were some unjustly -sentenced, mixed up accidentally with a crowd of excited rustics engaged -in unlawful deeds—wondering spectators rather than actors. Such a victim -was probably the unhappy Annetts, a vacant-faced farm labourer, from -Essex or Dorset, whose wife, accompanied by their two children, came -daily to see him before the ship sailed. - -I seem to remember the wretched group, though most probably it was my -good nurse's description that imprinted it indelibly on my memory. - -There would they sit, hour after hour, bathed in tears—he, with the -irons on his limbs and the ugly prison garb; she almost a girl, with -traces of rustic beauty, as he was hardly more than a boy—holding each -other's hands and weeping silently for hours; then, sobbing in paroxysms -of lamentation, both repeatedly declaring his innocence, the children -wondering gravely at the strange surroundings, at times mingling their -tears with those of their parents. It was a sight to touch the heart of -the sternest. Then the last agonised parting, when the fainting woman -was carried on shore, when the hopeless outcast watched his native land -recede, instinctively aware that he gazed on it for the last time. - -Is there such a physiological process as a broken heart? It would seem -so, even in this world of lightly-borne sorrows and forgotten joys. He, -at least, was not thus fashioned, stolid peasant as he seemed to outward -view, untaught, uncared-for, born to the plough and the monotonous -labour of the farm animals, which in his undeveloped intelligence he so -closely resembled. But their fidelity to the heart's deepest feelings -was rooted in his being. He never raised his head afterwards, as the -phrase goes. He moved and spoke, went through the ordinary motions of -humanity, as in a dream. Day by day he pined and wasted; in little more -than a month, from no particular ailment, he died and found burial in -that mysterious main which before his sentence he had never seen. - -The only other death on board was that of the second mate, a fine young -seaman named Keeling. Strange to say, he had a presentiment that -drowning would be the manner of his end. He would say as much, on one -occasion telling us that he was one of three brothers. Two had been lost -at sea. He _knew_ the same fate was in store for him. He even put his -head in a bucket of water once, and held it there, 'to see how it felt.' -He was strong, active, temperate, and a smart officer. One day, in calm -weather, when spearing fish from the dolphin-striker, he lost his -balance and fell overboard. The ship had way on, though the breeze was -light. He was a good swimmer; a boat was instantly lowered. I believe -that my recollection of seeing him rise and fall upon the waves, far -astern of the vessel, is accurate. The boat rapidly nears him—swimming -strongly and easily supporting himself. It turns for a moment, shutting -him out from sight. A man leans over to grasp him. Why do they commence -to pull round in circles? Why can we not see the rescued man taken into -the boat? After an interval which appears terribly long, the boat comes -back to the ship _without him_. At the very moment of rescue a wave -drove the boat stem on. The keel struck him on the head. He sank like a -stone, never being visible to the boat's crew afterwards. Thus was his -doom accomplished. - -Though our passengers did not resemble those of the _Malabar_, we -boasted a similar military force. The Surgeon-Superintendent was a -much-travelled, cultured man. The Major and Subalterns in charge of the -detachment were agreeable personages; fortunately they were not required -to act in any military capacity beyond causing guards to be strictly -kept. Had the prisoners even been other than they were, their chance in -rising would have been small, having to deal with one of the most -watchful, prompt, and determined men, in the captain of the vessel, that -ever trod a plank. It was happily ordered otherwise. The voyage was -successful and devoid of adventure. There were neither storms, mutinies, -fevers, nor other disasters. And somewhere about the month of August (as -we left England in April 1831) we delivered our passengers to the -authorities in Launceston, in good order and condition. Our military -friends quitted us after our arrival in Sydney, our final destination. -My father had visited the port when an officer in the East India -Company's service as far back as the year 1820, had been struck with the -land's capabilities, and augured well of its future. He resolved to -settle therein in the aftertime, did events shape themselves that way. -By that voyage our destinies as a family were decided. - -The Paris of the South was then a seaside town, numbering not more than -thirty or forty thousand inhabitants. Described in station parlance, it -was well grassed and lightly stocked. As a matter of fact there was a -good deal of grass in the streets, and between Macquarie Place, which -was our first location, and the Domain, the little Alderney cow, which -had accompanied us on the ship, was able to pick up a good living. She -and other vagrom milch kine often eluded the vigilance of the sentry, at -the entrance to the Domain, where they revelled in the thick -couch-grass; to be turned out at the point of the bayonet when -discovered. Much of the city is changed; but much remains unchanged. Our -first abode was a moderate-sized house in Macquarie Place. It possessed -a second story and a garden, standing next to a tall, narrow building, -occupied by Mr. Harrington, an eminent civil servant of the -pre-parliamentary régime, later on Griffiths Fanning's office. Messrs. -Montefiore, Breillat, and Co. possessed the corner house with its walled -enclosure, taking in the angle of Bent Street, with a frontage also to -O'Connell Street. The wall, the house, and the store _still_ stand, -unaltered in half a century. Mr. Dalgety, then himself a junior clerk, -might be seen walking to and fro from the wharves, inspecting cargo, -note-book in hand. Think of that, young gentlemen in like positions, and -ponder upon the mercantile monarchies which have been (and may still be) -reached by perseverance, financial talent, and prudent ambition! - -Chief-Justice and Mrs. Forbes, with their family, inhabited a large -stone house on the opposite side of the street, also surrounded by a -wall. It now forms a portion of the Lands Office buildings. Archdeacon -Cowper lived on the other side, now New Pitt Street, a grass plot with -two large cedars being in front of the house. - -Sydney must have been then not unlike in appearance to one of the larger -country towns, Bathurst or Goulburn, save and excepting always its -possession of the unrivalled harbour and that fragment of Eden the -Botanic Garden. There we children walked in the mornings of our first -summer in Sydney. The grateful freshness of the air, the beauty of the -overhanging trees, the vision of blue water and white-winged skiffs seen -through flower thickets, still remains among my childhood's fairest -memories. - -At the back of our garden rose a stone wall, which supported the higher -level of the allotments fronting O'Connell Street. In a balconied -mansion opposite lived Mr. Raymond, the Postmaster-General, with his -numerous family of sons and daughters. - -How few survive of that merry band of youths and maidens, whom I -remember so well! After our debarkation no time was lost in sending me -to school. A lady who lived conveniently close, in O'Connell Street, -first directed the pothooks and hangers, which, further developed, have -since covered so many a printed page. Mr. Walter Lamb and the late -Colonel Peel Raymond were among my schoolfellows. At the ripe age of -seven, being according to the maternal partiality too far advanced for a -dame school, I was promoted to Mr. Cape's Sydney Academy, in King -Street, opposite to St. James's Church. Seventy boys more or less were -there, not a few of whom have since distinguished themselves 'in arms, -in arts, in song.' William Forster, Walter Lamb, Whistler Smith, and -Allan Macpherson were among my older comrades. I well remember on the -day of my arrival how Forster, actuated by the hatred of injustice which -characterised his after-life, fought a sanguinary battle with another -oldster who had been oppressing a smaller boy. Sir James Martin was -there then, or came soon afterwards. At any rate he was one of the -scholars when Mr. Cape, then newly appointed Headmaster of the Sydney -College, moved over and took possession of that institution upon its -opening day. The Nortons, James and John, were among the pupils, with -many others whom I could perhaps recall, but whose names are at present -fading in the mists of the past. The Dowlings, Mitchells, David Forbes, -Sir John Robertson, Mr. Dalley, with many another, were among the pupils -of that most conscientious and earnest teacher. They will always -acknowledge, doubtless, their indebtedness to him for a sound classical -training, the groundwork of their higher education. - -The late Mr. James Laidley was one of the smaller boys at that time. Our -fathers had been friends in other lands. I saw Commissary-General -Laidley's funeral—a military one—and Dick Webb, the family coachman, -leading the dead officer's favourite chestnut mare in the procession. - -On the day of my introduction came also a new boy, about the same age. -His name was Hugh Ranclaud. We were placed in a class in order to test -our reading, and, as the last comers, at the bottom of the class. The -lesson commenced; the others went through their allotted portion -haltingly, after the fashion of the small boy of the period. When it -came to Ranclaud's turn, he commenced in a clear, distinct, -properly-punctuated manner, much as if he had been in the habit of -performing at penny readings, or acting as curate on occasion. I see (as -if it were yesterday) Mr. Cape, who paused to listen, take him by the -arm and march him to the head of the class. I was promoted, too, and we -soon quitted that class for a higher place in the Division, from that -day to be close friends and confidants in literary matters. Eager, -voracious readers we both were. He was a poet as well. We used to walk -about arm in arm and recite bits out of Walter Scott and Byron. Until we -left school and settled in different colonies our friendship remained -unbroken. - -The first thing I remember after the ceremony of installation was the -adjournment to the new cricket-ground granted for our use in that part -of Hyde Park then known as the Racecourse, which was opposite to the -College, now the Grammar School. Percy and Hamilton Stephen were at the -wickets. They, with their cousins James and Frank, Alfred, Consett, and -Matthew Henry were among the schoolboys of that period; Prosper and -André de Mestre, with, later on, Etty (Etienne), then a little chap, -like myself. - -We of the old school were much gratified at the superior advantages we -now enjoyed in the way of playgrounds. The free use of Hyde Park, then -merely fenced and not planted, was granted to us. Below the school -building was a large area, divided by a wall from the present labyrinth -of terraces built on the Riley Estate, then a furze-covered paddock of -pathless wilds, in which we were free to wander. - -A chain-gang was at that time employed, under armed warders, in -levelling the line of road which leads towards Waverley. One of the -prisoners tried to escape and was shot by a warder. We boys went over. -There he lay dead in his prison garb, with a red stain across his chest, -'well out of the scrape of being alive and poor,'—only paupers were -unknown then, and prisoners, of course, plentiful. - -We were near enough to the Domain for the boarders to walk to 'The -Fig-tree,' that well-known spot in Wooloomooloo Bay, where so many -generations of Sydney boys have learned to swim. The old tree (a wild -one) was there long years after, and from the stone wharf, with steps -considerately made in Governor Macquarie's time, how many a 'header' has -been taken, how many a trembling youngster pitched in by ruthless -schoolmates! There was no danger, of course, and among rough-and-ready -methods of teaching a useful accomplishment, it is perhaps one of the -best. Mr. Cape was a good swimmer, and on the mornings when he -accompanied us, these little diversions were not indulged in. - -My recollections of him as a headmaster, and, indeed, in every other -capacity, is uniformly favourable. He was a strict, occasionally severe, -but invariably just ruler. Discriminating too, always ready to assist -real workers such as Forster, Martin, George Rowley, and other -exceptional performers. But for us of the rank and file, whose -scholastic ambition lagged consistently behind our powers, he had -neither mercy nor toleration. A thorough disciplinarian, prompt, -punctual, unsparing, we knew what we had to expect. The consequence was -that a standard of acquirement was reached at a comparatively early age -by his scholars which with a less resolute instructor would never have -been gained. - -The constitution of the school was professedly in accordance with the -Church of England denomination, but it was wisely ordered by the -founders that no religious disability should exist. The fees were low, -particularly for the day scholars. All ranks and denominations were -equally represented, equally welcome. Mr. Cape himself, though -inflexibly orthodox as an Anglican Churchman, was liberal and -comprehensive in his views. The school was commenced (I think)—certainly -ended—with a prayer from the Liturgy. The boys who belonged to Jewish, -Roman Catholic, or Nonconformist denominations were permitted at -pleasure to absent themselves from this observance. Very few troubled -themselves to do so. Among the boys themselves I never remember the -religious question being raised. We remained united and peaceable as a -family (resorting, of course, to the British ordeal of single combat on -occasions), but all took rank in the school chiefly in accordance with -their prowess in the classes or the cricket-field. We had no other -standards of merit. - -Talking of cricket, the 'stars' of my day were Mr. William Roberts, -senior, who with his brothers Dan and Jack were my contemporaries, and -Mr. William Still. Roberts was a distinguished bat, renowned for the -finer strokes and artistic 'cuts.' Still was a deadly bowler, a -first-class field, and unerring catch. - -In those days the old barrack-square was in existence, taking up many -thousand feet of priceless frontage, at present value, in George Street. -The military reviews and evolutions performed therein afforded unfailing -interest to the schoolboy and nursery-maid of the period. Colonel -Despard was the military commander of the day. His carriage and pair of -chestnut horses, George and Charger, both nearly thoroughbreds, passed -into our hands at the sale of his effects previous to his departure from -the colony for New Zealand. - -Racing matters, which have received of late years such astonishing -development, were then in an infantile condition, it may be believed. -Hyde Park was probably the first race-course. The next arena (literally) -was the Old Sandy Course near Botany. To this unimproved tract I -remember trudging with school comrades in 1836, when we witnessed a -closely contested race, in heats too, between Traveller and Chester, the -former winning. Frank Stephen rode a mule that day, who kicked all the -way there and back. Lady Godiva and Lady Cordelia were the heroines of -that meeting. Charles Smith and Charles Roberts were the principal -supporters of the turf. This was near the proclamation of Her Gracious -Majesty's accession to the throne at the age of eighteen years. Hugh -Ranclaud and I attended the ceremony, and heard the proclamation read -among the oak trees not far from the Lands Office. - -The late Colonel Gibbes was a friend of the family. Edmund Gibbes was a -schoolfellow, and many holiday visits were paid to Point Piper, their -lovely residence. It was my ideal of perfection as a haven of bliss for -boys, far removed from lessons and other drawbacks of youth. Many a -happy day I spent there, though nearly coming to premature grief in the -fair (and false) harbour. A large, well-ordered mansion, sufficiently -removed from town to have country privileges, Point Piper contained all -the requirements for youthful enjoyment. The kindest hostess, the nicest -girls, a picturesque old-fashioned garden with fruit and flowers in -profusion, fishing, bathing, boating to any extent, books, and -music,—all the refinements and elegancies then procurable in Australia. -As to the course of everyday life, it did not differ noticeably, as I -can aver from after-experience, from that of country-house life in -England. The stables were well ordered, grooms and coachman being -assigned servants of course. Perhaps a stricter supervision was -necessary for some reasons. At a stated hour one of the sons of the -house was expected to walk down to the stables, which were half a mile -distant, to perform the regulation inspection, to see the evening corn -given, the horses bedded down for the night. - -We boys (Edmund, his younger brother Gussie, and myself) used to fish -and bathe nearly all day long, continuing indeed the latter recreation -in the summer afternoons till the sun scorched our backs. Then, after a -joyous evening, how sweet to fall asleep, lulled by the surges, which -ever, even in calmest weather, made mournful music on rock or -silver-sanded shore the long night through! - -About this time a certain adventure befell our party, which might have -ended tragically. One fine morning Gussie and I, with a kinsman about -the same age, went fishing in the bay. Our 'kellick' was down, and the -sport had been good. The provisional anchor was lifted at length, as the -wind, having shifted, began to blow off the land. We had delayed too -long, and found it hard work to make headway against it. Pulling with -unusual determination, one oar snapped. The blade floated away. The gale -was rising fast. Moving broadside on meant being blown out to sea. An -interval of uncertainty ensued. Gussie, who was a little fellow, began -to cry as we rapidly receded from the Point and the waves rose higher. - -I took the command—my first salt-water commission. It was no use letting -matters (and the boat) drift. To this day I wonder at the inventiveness -which the emergency developed. Taking off Gussie's pinafore, a brown -holland garment of sufficient length, I caused him to stand up and hold -it like a sail. Wallace, the other boy, was to act as look-out man. I -took the tiller and steered towards Shark Island, which lay between -Point Piper and the Heads. Our spread of canvas was just sufficient to -keep steerage way on. The wind was right aft. And in a comparatively -short time we jammed the boat's bow between two rocks, where there was -just beach enough to haul her up safe on our desert island. - -We knew, of course, that they would see us from the house, and judging -that we were cast away, send for us. Soon we discerned a boat coming to -our rescue manned by the groom and the gardener—both fair oarsmen. The -wind was a good capful by this time, and it took two hours' hard pulling -to land us at the Point Piper jetty. 'Oh, you naughty boys!' I can hear -the mild châtelaine saying in simulated wrath as we marched up, -extremely glad to be so well out of it; and as they were very glad too, -no serious consequences tending to moral improvement ensued. - -At the Sydney College half-yearly examination Archbishop Polding was -always among the examiners—a gentle, if dignified, old man, whom all of -us revered. Our own Bishop and clergy attended on these occasions, but I -have a more distinct impression of the Prelate first mentioned than of -any other clergyman of the day. St. Mary's Cathedral was building -then—it is building now—a monument of the persistent progress of the -Church of Rome. What she begins she always ends, rarely relinquishing an -undertaking or a stronghold. My reason for mentioning the religious -aspect of the question is that, save for the morning and evening prayer -and Mr. Cape's regular church-going, our school, though strictly -denominational in theory, was virtually national and secular; chiefly, -as I said before, because we of the different sects and persuasions -agreed to respect each other's religious opinions and beliefs. - -Whether this practical Christianity made us the worse churchmen in -after-life I leave others to judge. When my father deserted salt water -for the land permanently, he did not fix on one of the charming nooks -embosomed in sea-woods which lay so temptingly between Hyde Park and the -South Head road. Like most sailors, he had had enough of 'the sad sea -waves,' whether in play or in earnest, and was relieved to be out of -sound of them. Glenrock was, I believe, offered to him at a temptingly -low rate, but he preferred to buy a tract of wild land at Newtown, as -the suburban hamlet was then called, there to build and improve. - -Beginning in good earnest, the walls of a large two-storeyed house soon -arose—something between a bungalow and a section of a terrace. One -Indian feature of the place was a verandah fully a hundred feet in -length, and twelve feet in breadth, running across the façade and -turning the ends of the house. This was flagged with the cream-coloured -Sydney sandstone. Well do I remember its refreshing coolness of touch -and appearance in our first summer. The house being built, the garden -planted, and the whole purchase substantially fenced, the property was -christened 'Enmore,' the name borne by the suburb into which it has -grown to this day. East Saxon originally, it may be quoted as an -instance of the evolution even of names. From one of the eastern -counties of England it emigrated to Barbadoes, where it served to -distinguish the plantation of an intimate friend of my father, the late -James Cavan, a wealthy mercantile celebrity of Barbadoes in the good old -days—the days of slavery and splendour, of princely magnificence and -gorgeous profits, whereof the author of _Tom Cringle's Log_ has left -such picturesque descriptions. Hence to an Australian suburb, and going -further afield, still following the course of colonisation, the homely -name has travelled into the far interior. There are now the Enmore -Blocks, an Enmore sheep station, and possibly in the future there will -arise an Enmore inland town, with railway terminus, town hall, and -municipality complete. - -In the years between 1836 and 1840, when we lived at Enmore, we had, -like all other householders of the day, assigned servants. The only -exceptions at that time were our confidential nurse, and Copeland the -coachman, an ex-50th man. Most fortunate was it for us young people that -such a woman had attached herself to the family; of exceptional energy -and intelligence, deeply religious, with an earnest and unswerving -faith—'a slave of the ought,' like Miss Feely. As she abode with us from -1828 to 1858, it may be imagined what an influence for good she exerted -upon us children when almost wholly under her control. - -As for the poor convicts, they were really much the same as other -people. Some were good, none of them particularly bad. Their master, -though with a natural leaning to quarterdeck discipline, was not severe. -When they got 'into trouble,' as they expressed it, it was through their -own irregularities. A man would apply for a 'pass' (a permit in -writing), granting leave to go to town and return by, say, eight o'clock -P.M.; instead of which (like the ingrate who stole geese off a common) -he would get drunk, be locked up by the police, and be brought up before -Captain Wilson or other Police Magistrate of the day, charged with -intoxication and being out after hours, whereupon he received -twenty-five or fifty lashes, and was carefully returned to our service. -The first intimation we received was the sight of Jack or Bill, as the -case might be, coming up the carriage-drive in charge of a constable; -his blood-stained shirt tied over his shoulders by the sleeves, instead -of being worn as usual. - -The flogging wasn't child's play, as may be believed. I have seen the -weals and torn flesh; but the men did not seem to care so much about it, -nor did it tend to brutalise them, as asserted. They admitted that it -was their own fault, for running against that stone wall, the law. We -had nothing to do with it, but indeed suffered loss of work thereby. In -a day or two they were all right and cheerful again, well behaved of -course, until that fatal 'next time.' Whether the men were of tougher -fibre in those days, I can't say; but fancy a latter-day larrikin -getting fifty or a hundred lashes, as these men did occasionally, -without wincing, too! Compared to the modern product, the 'larrikin,' -with his higher wages, better food, and more of the comforts of life -than are good for him, they were angels of light. - -The groom was a prisoner; so also the gardener, the butler, the -housemaid, the laundress, the cook. The women were, no doubt, more -difficult to manage. If they got to the sideboard when there was a -bottle of wine open, trouble ensued. Hard working and well behaved -generally, none of them could withstand the temptation of drink. This -may have occurred more than once, but the ultimatum of which they stood -in dread was, after repeated misbehaviour, to be sent to the Factory at -Parramatta—the Bridewell of the colony. Their hair was cut short in that -house of correction. They were supposed to work at hard and monotonous -tasks. The work the unfortunates did not mind so much, but the -short-cropped hair—all ignorant of the turn fashion was to take in -after-years—they detested unutterably. - -Two of these _engagés_ (as French colonial officials called them) played -us a pretty trick, for which, though it caused temporary inconvenience -to the household, I have always felt inclined to pardon them. - -The butler was a smartish young Dublin man, not more than a year out. He -behaved well—was steady and willing. The laundress—Catherine Maloney, -let us say—a quiet, hard-working young woman, was a valuable servant, -worth about fifteen shillings a week, as wages go now. Fancy the -privilege of keeping a capable servant, say, for four or five years -certain! 'Please to suit yourself, ma'am,' and the later domestic -tyrannies were then unknown. However, Patrick and Kate nourished deep -designs—made it up to get married; wicked, ungrateful creatures! One -fine morning they were missing, and, what was really exceptional in -those man-hunting days, were never discovered—never indeed found from -that day to this! 'These lovers fled away into the storm.' It would be -in 1839, just about the 'breaking out' of Port Phillip. They probably -got there undetected. Who knows? One wonders what became of them. Did -Patrick grow rich, prosperous—even politically eminent? It was on the -cards. They had my good wishes, in any case. - -When we migrated to Port Phillip in 1840, a special permit was obtained -from the Governor in Council to take down our servants—eight men and two -women. The men went overland with the stock, and of course remained till -their tickets-of-leave were due. But the women, our fellow-passengers by -sea, married soon after they got to Melbourne. It was a 'rush,' in the -latter-day goldfields' idiom, and women were at a premium. We might have -refused our royal permission to this, but were not hard-hearted enough -to do so. We were thus left desolate and servantless, a condition in -life much less common in those days than it is now, I grieve to say, -speaking as a householder. The men on the whole behaved well. George -Stevenson, a clever mechanic and gardener from the north of Ireland, was -drowned while crossing the Yarra at Heidelberg by night—a shanty being -the fatal temptation. The groom died in the Benevolent Asylum at -Melbourne, after many a year of faithful service to us and others. All -our men but one got their tickets-of-leave, and drifted away out of ken. -But while on the question, I may here record my opinion, that these men -and their class generally did an immense deal of indispensable work in -the earlier decades of the colony. They were, on the whole, when fairly -treated, well behaved. They rarely shirked their work, were often -touchingly attached to the families wherein they had done their enforced -servitude, and after their virtual freedom was gained, mostly led -industrious and reputable lives. - - - - - AFTER LONG YEARS - - -'This is the place; stand still, my steed, let me review the scene!' -Quite correct, this is the place, though so changed that I hardly -recognise the homestead which I built when I 'took up the Run' still -known as 'Squattlesea Mere,' so many a year ago. Can it be possible that -half a century should have passed—fleeted by like a dream—as a tale that -is told—and that I should again stand here, looking at the work of my -hands in that old time, whereof the memory is so fresh? The huts, the -stock-yards, the cottage wherein we dwelt in peaceful contentment, -nearly all are there, though much decayed and showing manifest signs of -old Time—_edax rerum_—with his slow but sure attrition. The fruit trees -in the garden, planted with my own hands, are of great age and size, and -still bearing abundantly in a soil and climate so favourable to their -growth. I find it almost impossible to realise that in June 1844, being -then a stripling of eighteen, I should have established this 'lodge in -the wilderness,' now developed into a fair-sized freehold, besides -supporting a number of families in comfort and respectability on the -selected portions. - -Well do I remember the dark night when I reached this very spot, on a -tired horse, having ridden from Grasmere on the Merrai that day, nearly -fifty miles, without food for man or beast. The black marauders of the -period held revel on a cape of the lava-bestrewn land which jutted out -upon the marsh, near the Native Dog's Well. I had stumbled on to their -camp, not seeing it until I was amid their dimly-burning fires. -Relations were strained between us, and as they were then engaged in -banqueting upon one of my milch cows (name Matilda), there is no saying -what might have happened to the chronicler if my colt, a great-grandson -of Skeleton (own brother to Drone), had not responded to the spur. - -The overseer and I, arming ourselves, rode to the scene of the -entertainment next morning, which presented an appearance much -resembling the locality in Robinson Crusoe's island after the savages -had finished their repast. Portions of the murdered milker were visible, -also her orphaned calf, lowing in lament after his kind. But our sable -neighbours had vanished. - - * * * * * - -I drove over the identical spot last week. How different its aspect! -Drained and fenced—the black soil of the fen showing by depth and colour -what crops it is destined to grow—a wire fence, a dog-leg ditto, all -sorts of queer enclosures. Only the volcanic trap ridges remain -unchanged, and the 'Blue Alsatian Mountains,' as typified by Mount Eeles -and Mount Napier, which seem to 'watch and wait alway.' - -Yes. The landscape has an altered appearance. What we used to call 'the -smooth side' of the Eumeralla—as differentiated from the 'stones' of -Mount Eeles, then, as now, rough enough in all conscience—has since our -day been almost wholly denuded of timber. The handsome, umbrageous, -blackwood trees (_Acacia melanoxylon_), which marked and shaded the -'islands' in the great mere, are dead and gone. - -The marsh lands, then divided into islands, flats, and reed-beds, now -present one apparently dead level, less picturesque, but more -profitable, as fields of oats and barley are now to be seen where the -'wild drake quacked and the bittern boomed.' - -Yon broad arterial drain is responsible for this transformation. More -complete reticulation will in time turn the ancient fen, I doubt not, -into one of the most productive agricultural areas in the Port Fairy -district. - -Still, with the increase of population and the onward march of -civilisation, one natural enemy of the grazier comes forward as another -is displaced. The dingo and kangaroo, with our poor relations, the -aborigines, have mostly disappeared. But the rabbit in countless -multitudes has arrived and come to stay; while the hero of our nursery -tales and I wot not of what mediæval legends, Master Reynard, the fox, -has found the climate suit his constitution. He raids the good-wife's -turkeys, not wholly neglecting lambs, much as he might have done in the -midland counties of England. Charles Kingsley's father (he tells us) -took him into the garden one night to hear a fox bark, believing that -the breed would soon be extinct in England; but he has held his own so -far in the old country, and as I was told of a vixen with six cubs -discovered in a log at Snaky Creek last week, I doubt whether we should -not be able to re-export him, like the hares and rabbits, if a demand -sprang up for the Australian Reynard. - -Squattlesea Mere was certainly a good place for game. Snipe were -plentiful, and might be shot, so to speak, from the parlour window. Wild -ducks, geese, turkeys, quail, and the beautiful bronze-wing pigeon also. -The kangaroo was then in the land, and helped our larder (notably with -his tail, which made excellent soup), and an occasional dish of steak or -hashed wallaby. The flesh tasted something between lean beef and veal, -not at all a bad substitute for salt junk, when well cooked. A couple of -hundred rabbits at least must have crossed the road, running eastward, -in two or three miles, as we drove along this morning. - -How such a sight would have astonished us formerly! Hares, too, from -time to time. Our kangaroo dogs were then nearly as fast as the pure -greyhounds now so plentiful on every estate, and what good sport we -should have had! Driving by coach between the towns of Hamilton and -Macarthur, I observed with satisfaction that the old stations survived -in the form of respectable, though not overgrown, freehold estates. And -although the owners are no longer the same, they still bear their old -names, and are thus distinguished from the smaller-sized arable and -grazing farms which have occupied the remaining areas. - -'Monivae' (the first in order along the Macarthur road), from which I -have more than once seen Acheson Ffrench driving his four-in-hand, now -boasts a mansion and excellent fencing. The old cottage, however, yet -stands, surrounded by the station buildings, where the merry girls and -boys grew up, and where we used to be glad to be asked to stop for a -night in the 'dear dead days beyond recall.' Werongurt too, where John -Cox held sway, where the first orchard was planted, where the choice -Herefords roamed at will, where The Caliph and The Don were located, may -still be recognised. There the rye-grass and clover—in after-years -destined to overspread the land—were introduced; and more wonderful -still, where the first swing-gate for drafting cattle was put up in 1842 -or 1843 (_pace_ Mr. Lockhart Morton). At the thriving township of -Macarthur I had the pleasure of renewing my acquaintance with my old -friend Mr. Joe Twist, formerly the crack stock-rider of the Port Fairy -district. - -At a little distance on the old Port Fairy road to Hamilton, now left -untouched by the present railway, is Lyne, once the station of Messrs. -Lang and Elms. At Macarthur, where I again beheld the deep, unruffled -waters of the Eumeralla, still exists a compact freehold, running back -to Mount Eeles and the volcanic country, which is now, I am afraid, an -extensive rabbit preserve. This is known as Eumeralla West, at present -in the occupation of Mr. John Learmonth, in whose hands it presents a -thriving well-managed appearance. On the other side of the river is -Eumeralla East, cut off from the original run by an authoritative -decision of Mr. Commissioner Fyans, and now in the possession of Mr. -Staughton. - -Dunmore alone—once a show station for the quality of its sheep, cattle, -and horses—has suffered a melancholy change. The last of the three -partners, Messrs. Campbell, Macknight, and Irvine, strong in youthful -hope and sanguine trust in fortune when I first knew the district, died -but a few months since. - -'Tis a saddening task to run over the list of the companions of one's -youth and to note how the summons of death, the warning, the unsparing -hand of time, has thinned or menaced their ranks. - -Poor dear old Dunmore! How many a jolly muster have we shared in there! -How many a loving 'look through' the stud—how many a race had we talked -over with the first owners! It was taken up only a year or two before -Squattlesea Mere. What dances and picnics, rides and drives, had we -there joined in! What musters of well-bred bullocks, fat and -high-priced, had we escorted from Paradise Camp when 'Long John Mooney' -reigned as king of the cattle-dealers! And now, to think of all this -greatness departed! The pity of it! No herd of cattle, no stud—Traveller -and Clifton, The Premier, Tramp, Triton and Trackdeer, St. George, The -Margravine, Lord of Clyde, Mormon—all dead and gone! Equine shadows and -phantoms of the 'brave days of old.' - -Hospitably received by the present proprietor of Squattlesea Mere, with -whom I had much in common, as we had shared the changing seasons and -varying profits of the Riverina in the sixties, I stayed a day at the -old place. Once more I slept in the old chamber, sat at the table in the -parlour where so many a cheerful evening had been passed by the young -people who then formed our family circle, and for whom for a decade it -was so safe and healthy a shelter. Again I heard the roll of the surges, -as they beat in days of old on the shore. Again I felt as I rose at -sunrise the fresh, pure air of early morn, and wondered if I should have -the horses run into the stock-yard to pick out those wanted for the -day's work. - -_Tempora mutantur_, indeed. Where are now the overseer, the groom, the -stock-rider, who, well mounted, and high-mettled as their steeds, were -wont to fare forth with me for a long day's muster of 'the lower end of -the run'? Where, indeed? Frank, the groom, most patient and -cool-couraged of rough-riders—good alike on camp or road—is dead. The -trusty overseer, who could ride all day and night at a pinch, or stride -through the Mount Eeles rocks for hours at a time, now walks with a -stick and is restricted to a buggy with a quiet horse for locomotion. -And the gay Irish stock-rider, who took so kindly to the trade, though -not to 'the manner born,' would, I fear me, distinctly decline to sit in -the saddle for ten hours of a winter's day, wet to the waist and -splashed to the eyes, as many a time and oft was our custom. - -There is no doubt we are Rip Van Winkle. All the intervening life which -has passed like a dream and left so few traces, must be in the nature of -a magic slumber. - -We could think so, were it not for certain changes we wot of. - -The knight has been to the wars, and though shrewdly wounded, has -escaped with life, and once more beholds the walls of the old keep. It -sadly recalls the ballad— - - Hawk, hound and steed roam masterless, - His serving-men grow grey, - His roofs are mossed—'tis thirty years - Since the warrior went away. - -My next stage was past Orford, on the Shaw River, locally known in that -olden time 'before the gold' as the 'Crossing Place,' now a township -with inhabitants. The brothers Horan, my faithful servitors, were the -principal business men there, after the Free Selector's Act of Sir Gavan -Duffy altered the pastoral proprietary so materially. - -One kept the hotel, The Horse and Jockey, built and first opened by the -Dunmore stud-groom, Baker. He trained Triton, Tramp, Trackdeer, and -other Tr-named descendants of Traveller. A good jock and finished -horseman in his day, but grown too heavy for the trade, he took to the -general stud business, and subsided into hotel-keeping. Death, the -inexorable, had claimed Mr. Michael Horan, but his widow still holds the -license, with a goodly number of young people, mostly settled in life, -to uphold the family name and fame. - -Mr. Patrick Horan owns the general store which supplies the wants of the -township, but the hardships of bush life have told on the once active -and athletic frame, and though the dark blue eyes are still bright and -clear, the white beard and faded lineaments might well accompany an -older man. However, men can't live for ever, even in the cool and -temperate clime of Port Fairy. - -Pat and I are still in the land of the living. For that, and the -moderate enjoyment of life, let us be duly thankful; and though neither -of us, I venture to say, will ride buck-jumpers any more, or follow the -fast-receding herd through the forest thickets, some reasonable -recreation may yet be meted out to us in our 'declining days.' - -Melancholy-sounding phrase! But _triste_ or otherwise the reality has -arrived. And we must make the best of it. - - - - - IN THE DROVING DAYS - - -It is midwinter. The season has been severe, the rainfall heavy and -continuous, almost without parallel. The floods are out and the whole -country is generally spoken of as being 'under water.' We are on the -road from Goulburn, New South Wales, to Gippsland with a thousand head -of store cattle. We have crossed the high bare downs of the historical -district of Monaro, rich in tales of wonderful feats of stock-riding, -performed by 'the old hands,' and repeated by one generation of -stock-riders after another. The Snowy River, rushing savagely over -granite boulders, is in sight, and we hail that turbulent stream as a -midway stage in our long, tedious, and adventurous journey. - -Now there is cattle-droving and cattle-droving. When loitering in early -summer-time over rich or level country the expedition is an idyll. The -cattle follow one another without pressing, feeding as they go. The -horses lounge along or are driven among the cattle, some of the men -always preferring to be on foot. The dogs are easy in their minds, the -whips are at rest. Around the camp-fires at night are heard sounds of -careless merriment; the air seems charged with exhilaration, and all is -_couleur de rose_. This sort of business is occasionally the rule for -weeks, causing the unreflecting newcomer to exclaim, 'Is this the -overlanding of which we have heard so much? Why, any fellow could do -this.' - -Quite another style of travelling was that which we had experienced for -weeks and which was even now becoming intensified. When the country -travelled through is rough, thickly timbered, or mountainous; when -ceaseless rain floods the rivers and soaks the baggage; when the horses -and cattle are enfeebled and therefore prone to straggle, ordinary -difficulties are increased fourfold. Everybody is required to be at the -fullest stretch of exertion, with both head and hand, from daylight till -dark—occasionally for all night as well. Horses become lame or die; -losses occur among the cattle; the person in charge has a tendency to -become gruff, even abusive; hard work, anxiety, and perhaps short -commons are frequently inscribed on this, the reverse side of the -shield. Such is the prospect which we shrewdly suspect lies before us as -we halt the drove nearly a mile from the formidable ice-fed stream, -'rolling red from brae to brae,' and prepare for a swim over. - -Our party consists of eight mounted men, exclusive of a cook or -tent-keeper, and a boy, hardy, knowing, and, it might be added, impudent -beyond his years. The leader is Mr. Harold Lodbroke, an Australian of -English descent; he has managed cattle from his youth up, and these are -not the first thousand head that he has personally conducted from one -side of the country to the other. - -Mr. Elms, the second in command, is an Englishman who has plainly, by -some peculiar arrangement of circumstances, been 'born out of his native -country.' In speech, in manner, in the fifteen stone which he walks, in -the square-built, clever cob which he rides, he is as conspicuously -English as his name 'John Meadows Elms' would lead you to suppose. -Nevertheless he is a 'Campbelltown native'—(why were so many of the -early Australians born in that curious old-fashioned village in New -South Wales?)—and he knows, I feel persuaded, not only what any cow or -bullock would do under given circumstances, but what they would _think_. - -James Dickson (otherwise Monaro Jim) and his mate, whom he introduced at -their hiring as 'a young man from the big Tindaree,' are stock-riders of -the ordinary run of Australian bush natives. They are given to long -hair, tight breeches, tobacco, and profane swearing; it is possible they -may be 'everything that is bad,' but bad riders—their worst enemy could -find no fault in that respect. They require to be kept well in hand, but -as they will receive no payment until the completion of the journey, it -is probable they will do their work well. - -Mr. Jones (of England) is a young gentleman recently arrived, who has -joined the partly mainly for the sport and to add to his colonial -experience—of this last commodity he is likely to gain on this -expedition perhaps a little more than accords with amusement; but he is -plucky and energetic, so he will most likely come well through, with a -fair allowance of grumbling, as befits his nation. - -Some preparation for the wilderness is now progressing, this being the -last outpost of civilisation. Whips are looked to, and 'crackers' are at -a premium; every horse has his shoes examined in anticipation of rocky -passes and absence of blacksmiths. 'You won't find no shoes on the Black -Mountain,' says Monaro Jim to Mr. Jones, 'and you'd look well leading -that chestnut mare fifty mile.' At this cheerful way of putting things, -Mr. Jones has a close overhaul of his charger's feet and makes at once -for the smithy. Flour and beef are laid in, spare boots, and, above all, -full supplies of tobacco are secured by the men, and lastly the -pack-saddles, provisions, tent, and general property are ferried across -the river in a rough sort of punt. It is now mid-day, dinner is ready, -and after due observance of that ceremony, every one mounts and real -work begins. - -Harold Lodbroke on The Dromedary, a long brown horse, not far from -thoroughbred, plain enough, but with legs of iron and a constitution to -match, slides in among the cattle, followed by Monaro Jim and his mate. -They bring on separately, or as they would say 'cut off,' three or four -hundred of the vanguard; the rest of the party close up behind these and -they are brought briskly towards the river. There is a steep but sandy -bank, below which is the river shore. The cattle see this and hesitate; -at a shout from the leader, every whip and every voice is raised -simultaneously; the half-wild, half-fierce bullocks dash forward like a -herd of deer. Down the bank they go, dropping over and breaking down the -overhanging bank as they are forced on by the maddened animals in the -rear. Harold jumps The Dromedary over the crumbling ledge, and, making a -drop leap of three or four feet, lands right among their undecided lead. -Swinging his twelve-foot stockwhip and yelling like a Sioux Indian, he -forces half-a-dozen bullocks into the foaming water. The next moment -they are struggling with the deep, violent stream, heading straight for -the further shore and followed by all the rest. Other detachments are -brought down, which readily follow their comrades, and in little more -than an hour the whole expedition is safe on the right side of the -treacherous Snowy River. We do not purpose to camp after the usual -fashion to-night; no watching is thought necessary, we can see for some -ten miles in every direction, the cattle are not likely to re-swim that -pleasant rivulet, so the order goes forth, 'Let 'em rip.' They graze -peacefully in the gathering darkness, a fire is made of drift-wood, the -tent is pitched, and that day at least is successfully over. I have -often thought that a nearer approach to perfect contentment, and -therefore to happiness, is more frequently realised 'on the road' than -under any other circumstances of life's travel. Everything conduces to -those 'short views' which Sydney Smith recommended. The hours spent in -the saddle or at the watch-fire tend to a pleasant weariness of mind and -body. Health and spirits are at a high register, owing to a freshness of -the atmosphere and the regularity of muscular action. A certain amount -of anxiety is felt for the success of the daily enterprise, and when -that is reached in the crossing of a dangerous river, or by the -attainment of a favourable camp, the needs of our nature seem fully if -temporarily gratified. Let the morrow provide for itself. The abstract -incompleteness appears to diminish, almost to disappear in the -illimitable distance, and we smoke our meerschaum by the watch-fire, or -sink into well-earned repose, in the luxurious enjoyment of that -unbroken slumber which is born of toil and toil alone. - -So, one by one, we lie down to rest with the lulling sound in our ears -of the turbulent, rock-strewn river. The _réveillé_ is sounded at 5.30; -there is no possibility of daylight for more than an hour, but breakfast -can be cooked and eaten before dawn, whereas horses cannot be profitably -searched for without some manner of daylight. The day breaks, cold and -discouraging. The rain, which had poured steadily during the latter part -of the night, causes us to congratulate ourselves that we are on the -right bank of old Snowy, now rising fast. The faintly chiming bells, -which every other horse of the twenty-three composing our 'caballada' -wore, warn us of their whereabouts. We see, as the mist lifts, long -lines of the cattle at various distances, but within easy reach of the -camp. The horses, now driven in by the boy, Sydney Ben, and the 'young -man from the Tindaree,' arrive. The cattle are soon put together. It -seems improbable that any stragglers had left the main body. Mr. Elms, -after looking through them, gives it as his deliberate opinion that he -didn't miss any of the 'walk-about mob.' We take the trail that faces -the dark woods and frowning ranges of the south, and the grand array -moves on. It would be hard to find a more bitter day, except on a -Russian steppe in a snowstorm. The unsheltered, stony downs over which -we pass seem to invite the whirlwinds of sleet which ever and anon sweep -over them. The cattle refuse to face their course from time to time, -only to be forced on as regularly in the very teeth of the blast. The -stage is comparatively long, so we toil on, drenched to the skin and -cold to the very marrow, in spite of oilskins and wraps. Still 'the day -drags on, though storms keep out the sun,' and nightfall find us at the -appointed halting-place. We do not propose to 'chance' the cattle -to-night, so a camp is made. First of all the drove is permitted to -graze peaceably to the particular spot selected. This is either a dry -knoll or the angle of a creek, fence, or whatever boundary may help to -confine the cattle at night and lessen the labour of watching. This -being accomplished, they are gradually driven up into such a compass as -gives room for comfort without undue extension of line. Fires are as -quickly as possible lighted around them. The horses are unsaddled, -hobbled, 'belled,' and turned loose. For all night purposes cattle can -be managed on foot, always excepting when they have been recently -brought from their native pastures, in which case a relay of fresh -'night horses' is always kept ready for a rush or other emergency. -Regular watches now are allotted to the different members of the party, -changing, of course, every night. On this occasion Mr. Jones, who is on -the first watch, is informed by the cook that his tea is ready, a piece -of information which he receives with the keenest gratification. He -seats himself between the tent and the camp-fire upon his rolled up -gutta-percha ground-sheet and bedding, and thinks he never enjoyed -anything so much in his life as the boiled corned beef, fresh damper, -and quart-pot tea. Monaro Jim, who is his companion on watch, is also -partaking after a deliberate and satisfying fashion, volunteering from -time to time his impressions about the weather, the road, and the state -of the cattle. - -Mr. Lodbroke and the rest of the party are at this time fully engaged in -lighting fires, and 'steadying the cattle.' Their turn for luxury, tea, -and improving conversation will come at a later period. - -'Terrible hard they seem to camp to-night,' quoth Jim, taking off a -wedge of beef with his clasp-knife, and looking approvingly at Mr. Elms, -who is rushing frantically after an old cow with a fire-stick in his -hand. 'One comfort is, some of it'll be out of 'em by the time we're on -watch.' - -'Surely we two won't be able to keep them on the camp?' queries Mr. -Jones, alarmed at the responsibility about to devolve upon him and his -companion, and picturing cattle escaping into the darkness in all -directions. - -'Dessay we'll do well enough, after a bit,' said that experienced person -reassuringly. 'Just you keep walking round 'em till you come to me. I'll -be t'other side. If two or three sneaks out, rush at 'em and keep a -fire-stick handy to throw. If a string makes for goin', holler for me. -But they ain't fond of leavin' one another, nor yet travellin' in the -dark. We'd as well go on now.' - -Supper having been concluded without unnecessary hurry on his part, -Monaro Jim walks forth, filling his pipe as he goes. He explains to Mr. -Jones the position of the fires he is to guard, and departs to his post. -As they advance, the rest of the party make for the main camp-fire with -considerable alacrity, leaving Mr. Jones nervous but sternly determined. -For the first half-hour he paces rapidly from fire to fire, anxiously -peering into the darkness and driving back straggling animals. Rather to -his surprise they rush back to their companions in the herd directly -they see him or hear his voice, in preference to what he supposed to be -their obvious course, viz. to disappear in the darkness and elude -pursuit. - -Finding that Jim did not think the same activity necessary, and -observing that the cattle, with few exceptions, remained stationary, -even commenced to lie down, Mr. Jones moderates his energy and lights -his pipe. He finds time to smoke in peace by the middle fire. As the -night wears on he employs himself in replenishing the fires on his side, -and occasionally carrying or dragging heavy logs of wood. Happening to -look at his watch after doing all this, he finds to his astonishment -that half his vigil is over. He feels refreshed by his late -heartily-eaten meal. He warms himself from time to time by the blazing -fires which he has piled up. Once every half-hour he walks round his -watch and ward. The night is calm and starlit. The cattle have mostly -lain down, and are apparently not disposed to stir. When another hour -has passed, Mr. Jones begins to realise a treacherous inclination for -slumber. - -He has been up early, has worked hard all day, and after the third hour -of watching begins to feel as if he would give all the world for a good, -careless sleep. However, he combats the feeling, and it passes off. -Great comfort comes from the thought that when his watch is over at ten -o'clock, he can have unbroken rest till breakfast-time. - -The last hour dies hard, but comes to its end in due time, and then Mr. -Jones, with secret joy, veiled under a careless manner, shakes the feet -of the pair who are to relieve him and his mate, telling them to keep -moving as the cattle are troublesome on the far side. Having seen them -drowsily dressing and finally on their way to his outside fire, Mr. -Jones betakes himself to his cork mattress, ground-sheet, and blankets, -where under five minutes he is sleeping that sleep which comes to the -just and the unjust alike if only they be sufficiently tired. - -At half-past five A.M. Dan, the cook, is roaring out unfeelingly, 'All -aboard!' It seems but a few minutes to our tired hero, but on reference -to his watch the fact is fully borne out. So ends his first night's -watching. - -Another day, with its difficulties to be surmounted and its dangers to -be risked. We have said farewell to the cold uplands of Monaro proper, -and are entering a mountain land, amid deep ravines and narrow gorges, -sunless glens, dense forests, and precipitous ranges. We become aware -that our droving difficulties are commencing. The subsoil, saturated -with the rains of the most severe season known for thirty years, gives -under the heavy trampling of the leading bullocks. In the vain struggle -to pass quickly many of the stronger cattle only succeed in getting -deeper and deeper into the treacherous hillsides. - -It is even difficult to ride, and Mr. Jones more than once finds himself -confronted by a bullock of forbidding aspect, who, unable to advance or -retire, glares as if too happy to have the chance of 'skewering' him, -and keeps, with the defiance of despair, turning his horns instead of -his heels towards Mr. Jones' person. - -However, by patience and strategy, these difficulties are disposed of -and the camp is reached, in the darkest and most gloomy of forests. No -more easy days, no more 'lazy-ally' for us. We have entered the 'big -timber,' _crede_ Monaro Jim, and it will be all hard work and 'slogging' -till we sight the parks and meadows of Gippsland. So we fare on, -gradually ascending the forest hills which are to bring us to the -celebrated pass by which we shall surmount the grand alpine chain. -Sometimes we pass through darksome forests, where the scanty vegetation -tantalises the hungry drove; now we stand upon the brow of rocky -pinnacles and see stretching before us a cloud-world of mountain peaks -and glaciers, rosy in the flush of dawn. We dine by the side of clear, -cold, alpine streams, which ripple and gurgle through long summer days, -full-fed as now. By such a brook, it chances one day, as we round a -rugged promontory, that the unwonted appearance of a settler's hut -startles us; an inhabited dwelling too, with smoke issuing from the -chimney, a real woman, and (ever so many) children. Shy and wondering, -they stand gazing at us as if we were Red Indians, while their mother -civilly offers milk and potatoes—luxuries both. - -'Her husband was away,' she explained in answer to our inquiries. 'He -was nearly always out on the run, and sometimes away for weeks at a -time, mustering.' - -'Was she not afraid?' - -'Oh no; who would harm her? And there was not much to steal.' - -'Wasn't she awfully dull?' (This from Mr. Jones.) - -'Well, it was rather quiet, but there—the children, and the cows, and -the garden,—she always had something to do.' - -'Her husband was handy if he made that water-wheel, eh?' - -'Oh no. Yankee Jack, the digger, made that one summer he was prospecting -about here.' - -'However did they manage to get the dray here?' - -'Well' (rather proudly), 'it was the only dray for many a mile round; -her father gave it to them—and Joe, he packed it on the old horse, up -the range, bit by bit.' - -'Did she think the mountains fine?' - -'Oh yes. They were very well, but she wished they wouldn't rise just out -of their back-door like.' - -We said farewell to the kindly, simple dame and her sturdy brood of -Anglo-Saxons—blue-eyed and rosy-faced as if they had come out of Kent or -Devonshire—true types of a race which claims the waste places of the -earth for a heritage and which creates thereof New Englands and Greater -Britains. - -We wander slowly on with our sauntering, grazing herd, this rarely mild, -calm winter day. We look back as the cottage grows dim in the -distance—the little garden, the water-wheel, the patient wife listening -ever for the hoof-tramps of her husband's horse, fade in the darkening -eve. But we do not forget the little home picture, this floweret of -tender bloom beneath the melancholy alp. - -'We'll have to look out pretty sharp to-morrow, Mr. Jones,' says Monaro -Jim. 'We've got rather bad country before us.' - -'Bad country? Why, what do you call this?' hastily returns that -gentleman. - -'We're only just a-comin' to it,' calmly explains the saturnine -stock-rider. 'You'll see what the sidelings is like; why, this here's a -plain to it—cattle slipping and perhaps killing theirselves, big rocks -falling fit to knock yer brains out; there ain't hardly a yard fit for a -horse to carry you. Them boots of your'n won't look very fresh to-morrow -night.' Here Jim took a soothing draw at his pipe, and glanced pityingly -at Mr. Jones' neat elastic-sided boots, apparently absorbed in pleasing -thoughts of evil which the morrow night will bring forth. - -'Is there much more "sideling," as you call it?' inquired Mr. Jones, -rather overcome by this terrific description, and almost prepared to -arrive in Gippsland like a barefooted friar, if indeed he ever reached -that far and, as he is beginning to believe, fabulous country. - -'Not more'n a week of the wust of it,' answered the hard-hearted Jim. 'I -wish we was well over it. I've known a-many accidents in the sidelings -in my time.' - -The dawn is still grey as we ascend a green peak, at the summit of which -commences the first of the dreaded sidelings. The peculiarity of the -track here is, that while on the upper side the mountains through which -the Snowy River cleaves its rugged path rear themselves heavenwards with -a gradient of about one foot in three, on the lower side there is not an -inch of level ground between the track and the foaming waters of the -river. Where the river shore should have been is a mass of granite crags -and boulders. The trails of the many herds which have preceded us are -deeply-worn ruts, along which it is just possible for men to walk in -single file; if slippery with recent rains, or if any confusion occurs, -they are all but impassable. If the cattle, as was their constant -endeavour, manage to climb upwards, it is difficult and dangerous to -force them down. If they slip or fall downwards towards the river, it is -a forlorn hope to get them up. - - - - - THE AUSTRALIAN NATIVE-BORN TYPE - - -Numberless speculations, dogmatisms, and prophecies have found -utterance, in and out of Australia, touching the characteristics and -destiny of the Children of the Soil. Colonial critics sitting in -judgment upon their own and other people's offspring have chiefly felt -moved to deliver a verdict of inferiority to the sacred British type. -Not noticeably diverse has been that of the untravelled European -philosopher or social student. In nearly all cases, the mildest judgment -indicated some degree of physical or mental differentiation; another -term, for degeneration. If in the former greater height and length of -limb were conceded, to be neutralised by lack of muscle and vitality. -Worse again, if in the latter category a savage precocity and perceptive -intelligence were admitted, it was rarely if ever supported by -persistency, application, or broad mental grasp. - -In the very early days of New South Wales, which I am old enough, alas! -to remember, my boyish experience familiarised me with various products, -animate and inanimate, of the Cape of Good Hope, then a handy storehouse -of necessaries, for this far and oft-forgotten continent. The mention of -'Cape' geese, 'Cape' wine, 'Cape' horses, 'Cape' gooseberries, was -unceasing. Indeed I once heard the pied peewit—a bird familiar to all -observing youth—referred to as a Cape 'magpie.' This was, of course, -natural enough. But the logical outcome of this simple nomenclature, -which puzzled me at the time, was that 'Cape,' used in that sense, was -another name for almost any article resembling but _inferior_ to a -prized original. Thus the Cape wine was what we still, perhaps -erroneously, consider that inspiriting but less delicate beverage to be; -the Cape geese were smaller and marketably less valuable than their -thick-necked solemn English cousins; the Cape gooseberries were sweet -with a mawkish sweetness, how far below the rough richness of the -English fruit! The Cape horses, not devoid of pace, were weedy and -low-caste; while the Cape pigeon was not a pigeon at all, but a gull; -and even the Cape magpie was held to be a species of lark, dressed up in -the parti-coloured plumes of his august relative, the herald of the -dawn. - -Can my readers recall a period in which the adjectives 'colonial' or -'native' were not held to express very similar ideas as contrasted with -'European' or 'imported'? Along with the 'Cape' associations, I -acquired, from many sources, a fixed idea that an indefinable, climatic -process was somehow at work in Australia, preventing like from producing -like. It applied equally to men and women, horses and cattle, sheep and -goats, plants and flowers, qualities and manners. Over this anomaly, -dooming the unconscious 'currency lads and lasses' to perpetual 'Cape' -creolism, I marvelled greatly. My sympathies, meantime, were loyally -enlisted with the 'native' party. - -Years rolled on. I visited other colonies and roamed over tracts of -broad Australia, far from my boyhood's home. Yet I never lost sight of -the question which so troubled my youth. I neglected no opportunity of -making observations, recording facts, or instituting comparisons -connected with this mysterious subtle Australian degeneration theory. - -I even enjoyed the privilege—of which I desire to speak reverently and -gratefully—of visiting the dear old land, whence came the ancestors of -all Australians, the land of the real, veritable 'old masters,' before -any like-seeming but disappointing 'Cape' copies of the glorious -originals were thought of. I enjoyed thus certain opportunities, of -which I did not fail to make reasonable use. - -I mention personal facts merely to show that, having early in life -apprehended the magnitude of the question, I set myself, not without -certain facilities for generalisation, or reasonable time devoted to the -inquiry (about fifty years—ah me!), to do battle with the error, now as -then, possessing vitality and power of propagation. - -The first primary fact which appealed to my reasoning powers as -subversive of the 'Cape' or degeneration doctrine was that of the high -and increasing value of the fleece of the Australian merino sheep. This -astonishing animal, bred from individuals of selected _cabanas_ of the -highest Spanish lineage, was landed in New South Wales in the early -years of settlement, and tenderly cherished by the Macarthurs, Rileys, -Coxes, and other leading colonists, more enthusiastic for the welfare of -the land than their own aggrandisement. Kept free from 'improvement'(?) -by heterogeneous imported blood, it was actually declared by Shaw of -Victoria and other clear-visioned pastoral prophets to be equal, nay -_superior_, to the best imported sheep. It was contended for him that -the calumniated climate and pastures of Australia had in the -acclimatised merino produced a fleece delicately soft, free, lustrous; -withal, so highly adapted for the finer fabrics that nothing European -could compare with it. That from the type, now securely fixed, and -capable of reproducing itself illimitably, had been evolved the most -valuable fleece-producing animal, reared in the open air and under -natural conditions, _in the whole world_. That so far from the infusion -of the best Spanish and Gascon blood improving the Camden merino, as it -commenced to be called, marked deterioration followed. Horror of -horrors! _imported blood_ injurious—what heresy was this? Yet, -incontestably, the prices of the Havilah, Mount Hope, Larra, and -Ercildoune clips would seem to have triumphantly established Mr. Shaw's -daring proposition. - -As to horses, slowly and yet surely it began to be asserted, if not -believed, that any stud-master in possession of a family of Australian -thoroughbreds, originally imported and bred uncrossed for generations -beneath the bright Australian sky, reared on the crisp Australian -pastures, had probably better pause before he introduced English blood, -_unless he knew_ it to be absolutely superior and likely to assimilate -successfully. Later on men were found to say that, given pure pedigree, -speed, and soundness on the part of sire and dam, Australian -blood-horses, though reared for generations under the _fibre-relaxing -climatic influences_ of the Great South Land, were as grandly grown, as -speedy, as sound in wind and limb, as full of vigour and vitality, as -any of the 'terribly high-bred cattle' which at Newmarket represent the -_ne plus ultra_ of equine perfection. - -To this latter-day heresy, speculations as to what might have come to -the reputation of the race-courses of the land if evil hap had chanced -to the son of Cap-à-pie and Paraguay, lent considerable force. - -Gradually, also, uprose a bucolic, protesting party, who denied that the -unqualified supremacy of the British-bred shorthorn was to last for all -time. Second Hubback cows and bulls of the blood of Belvidere and -Mussulman, Favourite and Comet, had landed here before the rival names -of Bates and Booth were household words, from the Hawkesbury to the -Sylvester. Careful breeders, enthusiasts for pedigree, had jealously -kept the blood pure. Size and beauty, hair, colour and handling, -constitution and flesh-amassing power were equalled or even exceeded in -their descendants. Though sorely trammelled by the 'Cape' orthodoxy, -these even at length ventured to raise their flag and proclaim a -revolutionary epic of fullest colonial brotherhood, other things being -equal. Following them came the champions of Devon and Hereford cattle. -Lastly, the Suez mail brought news that certain Bates' Duchesses, born -and bred in America, in the United States, where the 'Cape' theory as -regarding man and beast to this day doth flourish luxuriantly, were -re-exported and sold in England for dream-prices before an idolatrous -audience. 'So mote it be,' argued the bolder reasoner—'even yet in -Australia preserve we but our pure tribes inviolate!' - -It irks one to recall how rigidly comprehensive was the elastic network -of the 'Cape' theory. By no means would the bulldog fight, nor die in -battle the close-trimmed cock, nor sing the bird, nor flower perfume the -breeze in Australia, as did their prototypes in 'Merrie England.' Long -years since this prejudicial indictment has been laid to rest amid the -limbo of forgotten absurdities. Man, the most highly-organised animal, -suffered of course the most injurious disparagement; he has but slowly -been able to clear himself from these damaging aspersions. - -Yet, methinks, old Time, his 'whirligigs and revenges,' is even now -uplifting the personal character of the Southern Briton, no longer -forced to resent the damaging accusation. In the lower forms of the -great School of Effort our champions have arisen and done battle with -many a dux of the Old World. They have abundantly demonstrated that they -could 'make the pace' and yet exhibit the 'staying power,' which is the -great heritage of the breed. Lofty of stature and lithe of limb as they -may be—though all are not so—they have shown that they inherited the -stark sinews, the unyielding muscles, the indomitable, dogged energy of -those 'terrible beef-fed islanders' from whom we are all descended. In -the boat, on the cricket-field, at the rifle-targets, and in the saddle, -the Australian has shown that he can hold his own with his European -relatives. - -It remains to be seen whether in the more æsthetic departments he has -exhibited the same power of competing on equal terms with his Northern -kinsmen. I now venture to assert, considering the limited number of -families relatively from which choice could be made, that a very large -proportion of Australian-born persons, of both sexes, have exhibited a -high degree of talent, and, in some cases, unquestioned genius in the -literary, forensic, or scientific arena. That small and distant -English-speaking population, which in a single generation produced such -men as Wentworth, Robertson, Martin, Dalley, Stephen, Forster, Halloran, -Deniehy, Kendall, and Harper—Australians by birth or rearing—may fairly -lay claim to the highest intellectual proclivities, to a moral -atmosphere favourable to mental development. It is inexpedient to -mention names in a limited community, but I may assert, without laying -myself open to that accusation of boasting for which a colonial synonym -has been adopted, that in the learned professions Australians may be -found, if not at the acknowledged pinnacle, so near as to be worthily -striving for pre-eminence. Among the fair daughters of the land we know -that there are numbered singers, painters, musicians, histrionic -artists, and writers, of an eminence which fits them worthily to compete -with European celebrities. - -Pledged to observing, with deep interest, the native Australian type, so -far as it has been presented to me, I have rarely missed an opportunity -of testing not only the general characteristics of the individuals -examined,—I have even pushed my inquiries almost to the verge of -rudeness as to the nationality of parents and grandparents; from the -Parramatta River to the Clarence, from the Moyne to the Murrumbidgee, -from the Yarra to the Mataura, I have noticed 'natives' of all ranks, -ages, and sexes. The eager ethnological reader will naturally require my -conclusive opinion—a prosaic, possibly a disappointing one. -Australian-born persons, with trifling exceptions, are very like -everybody else, born of British blood, anywhere. So far from all being -run into one mould, as it pleases strangers to believe, they present as -many instances of individual divergence from the ordinary Anglo-Saxon or -Anglo-Celtic types—mentally and physically—as are to be found in Europe -or elsewhere. Then the heat, the constant eating of meat, the -locomotive, speculative habit of the land—do these not produce a -variation of type? How _can_ they be like people born in the green -Motherland? is eagerly asked. My answer is—that 'race is everything.' A -little heat more or less, a little extra wayfaring, the prevalence of -the orange and banana, of abundant food—these things do not suffice to -relax the fibre and lower the stamina of the bold sea-roving breed which -has never counted the cost of the deadliest climate or the wildest sea -where honour was to be satisfied, thirst for adventure to be slaked, or -even that lower but essential desideratum, a full purse to be secured. -If the air be hot, there sighs the ocean breeze to temper it withal. On -the great interior plateaux, the pure, dry atmosphere, which invigorates -the invalid, rears up uninjured the hardy broods of the farmer, the -stock-rider, and the shepherd. Stalwart men and wholesome, stirring -lasses do they make. The profusely-used beef and mutton diet, due to our -countless flocks and herds, though it does not tend to produce grossness -of habit, is a muscle-producing food, best fitted for those who are -compelled to travel far and fast. The ordinary bush-labourer, reared on -a farm or a station, is generally a tall, rather graceful personage. He -may be comparatively slight-looking, but if you test or measure him, you -will find that the spareness is more apparent than real. His limbs are -muscular and sinewy; his chest is broad; his shoulders well spread; he -is extremely active, and, either on foot or horseback, can hold his own -with any nationality. Wiry and athletic, he is much stronger than he -looks. He will generally do manual labour after a fashion and at a pace -that would astonish a Kent or Sussex yokel. If he have not the -abnormally broad frame of the English navvy or farm-labourer, neither -has he the bowed frame, the bent back, the shorter limbs of the European -hind. With all his faults he is much more as Nature made him, unwarped -by ceaseless compulsory labour, and more capable of the rational -enjoyment of life. - -With regard to mental characteristics. It has been the fashion to assert -that a certain want of thoroughness is observable in the native -Australian youths. 'They will not fag at their books to the same extent -as a Britisher. They are superficial, light-minded, unstable, what not.' - -I well believe this to be an unfounded charge. When will people cease to -talk of 'Australians' doing this and that, or permit colonists to differ -among themselves from birth, as elsewhere? Here, under the Southern -Cross as under Ursa Major, are born the imaginative and the practical, -the energetic, the dreamy, the slow and the brilliant, the cautious and -the rash, the persevering and the fickle. As the inscrutable human unit -enters the world, so must he or she remain, I hold, but partially -modified by human agency, until the day of death. Change of abode or -circumstance will not perceptibly alter the mysteriously-persistent -entity. The eager British or other critic sums up the inhabitants living -in five hundred different ways as typical colonists. 'The Australian' -(saith he) 'does this, or looks like that, dislikes formality, or abhors -uniformity. He is quick, but not persevering; he is not so profound, so -long enduring, so "thorough" as the Englishman.' Such reasoners surely -assume that all Australians 'to the manner born' were hewn out of one -primeval eucalyptus log, instead of, as I had the honour to remark -before, possessing in full abundance the endless differentiations and -divergences from the parent type, and from each other, so noticeable in -Great Britain. - -Know, O friendly generaliser, that there be tall Australians and short -Australians, lean Australians, and those to whom the increase of adipose -tissue is a sore trial. There be fair-haired and dark-haired, brown-and -auburn-haired youths and maidens, and ever, as the outward man or woman -ripens diverse under the same sun, do the invisible forces of the mind -wax faint or fierce, feeble-clinging or deathless-strong. There are -speculative, rash Australians; also cautious, _very wary_ Australians. -Some to whom gold is but dross, peculiarly difficult to 'pocket' in -life's billiard-table, and woefully given to the losing hazard; others -to whom pence and half-pence are dear as the rarest coins of the -collector, prone to fight for or hoard them with desperate tenacity. -'Natives' who are ready to accept the gravest charge without a grain of -self-distrust; 'natives' to whom responsibility is a misery and a -burden. Some there are who from childhood to old age scarcely glance at -any literary product except a newspaper. Born on the same stream, or -tending the same herds, shall be those whose every waking thought is -more or less connected with books; to whom the unvisited regions of the -Old World, through such glorious guides, are rendered common and -familiar. There is _no_ generic native Australian definition, such as we -carelessly apply to Englishmen, Americans, Frenchmen, or Germans, when -we call the first practical, the second 'go-ahead,' the third gay, the -fourth solid. The Australian, perhaps, more nearly resembles the Briton, -from whom he has chiefly sprung, than any other sub-variety of mankind. - -There may be a slight but noticeable tendency to variation, but it -smacks of progressive development rather than of retrogression. Let it -be remembered that the inhabitants of the principal subdivisions of -Britain have mingled and intermarried in Australia to a greater degree -than is possible in the mother-country. Doubtless English and Scotch, -Scotch and Irish, and so on, continuously form alliances in Britain; but -there scarcely can have been such a thorough sifting up together, such -intermixture of blood there, as where the three divisions, having been -imported in rateably even quantities, have intermarried, for nearly a -century. The thorough welding of Celt and Saxon, Dane and Norseman, -Ancient Briton, Scoto-Celt, and Hiberno-Saxon strains, is hardly -possible except in a colony. Hence Australia may eventually produce a -type of the highest physical and mental vigour possible to the race. It -has been conceded that borderers—presumably mixed—have always excelled -in stature and mental calibre the pure races. As much may be asserted in -days to come of Australians. As it is, instances are not wanting of a -type of manhood combining harmoniously those qualities of which English, -Irish, and Scotch have from time immemorial been accustomed to boast. - -I conclude this outline of a deeply-important question by recording my -deliberate conviction, that in the essentials of character, the Southern -British race truly resembles and in none falls short of the parent -stock. Apparent physical peculiarities may be explained, as the results -of a higher average standard of living, a less stationary habit, and the -unshared freshness of a glorious atmosphere. - -The Great South Land, in extent and variety of climate and soil, offers -a more fruitful field for the development of the root-qualities of the -race than did any former abiding-place of the great Aryan stock. And -though the average stature be exceeded, and the rugged lineaments, no -longer ocean-striving, but fanned by softer airs, approximate more -closely to the chiselled features of the Greek, ever and for ever more -will Australia 'keep unchanged the strong heart of her sons'; for ages -yet to come jealously claiming the proud title of 'Britons of the -South,' and as such, when the world's war-dogs bay around the sacred -standard of the Empire, eagerly emulous to be enrolled among the -'Soldiers of the Queen.' - - - - - MY SCHOOL DAYS - - -It savours of the improbable to assert that the life-careers of my -school-comrades have proved to be mainly in development of their boyish -traits of character; yet in the majority of instances such has been the -case. - -Sir James Martin, late Chief Justice of New South Wales, was always -_facile princeps_ among us—in every class, in every subject. He may not -have posed as a too industrious worker, but, whatever his method, he -mastered every department of knowledge which he essayed with unvarying -success. That he, in common with most of the 'old boys,' wrote with ease -and effectiveness was due, perhaps, to the care bestowed upon the study -of English composition. It was a speciality of the school. Hugh Ranclaud -once produced an essay so polished and scholarly that suspicion of -plagiarism was aroused. A subject was given to him, 'Marauders by land -or sea,' to work out under supervision. He emerged triumphantly from the -ordeal. The first numbers of _Pickwick_ appearing about that time, in -green covers, if I mistake not, Martin commenced a tale, embodying a -similar style of incident. I forget the title now, but some numbers were -printed. It was a boy's audacious imitation, but even at this distance -of time I recall the undoubted ability of his performance. Part of the -action was laid in London, a city, strangely enough (though he knew more -of its history and topography than many a dweller within sound of Bow -Bells), that he was never destined to behold. - -William Forster was much the same kind of boy as he was a man: -obstinately honest, uncompromising, detesting the expedient; clever at -classics and mathematics, yet with a strong leaning to poetry. He left -us to go to the King's School at Parramatta, then in charge of the Rev. -Mr. Forrest, Hovenden. Hely, Whistler and Eustace Smith, Moule, the -Rossi Brothers, Walter Lamb, and a large contingent of Stephens were -contemporaries. Alfred of that ilk and I were great chums. He was a -steady worker, as were most of that branch of his family. Consett -(Connie) was then a handsome, clever boy, who could learn anything when -he liked, but was not over-fond of work. Matthew Henry (now a Supreme -Court judge), on the other hand, was an insatiable acquirer of -knowledge, and bore off a bagful of prizes, so to speak, at every -examination. Frank, his cousin, was not over-eager about draughts from -the Pierian spring, which led to misunderstandings between him and our -worthy master; but he was famous for tenacity of purpose and indomitable -resolution, qualities which served him well in after-life. Among the -boys who came comparatively late was George Rowley. He must have been -fourteen, at least, and by no means forward. In two years he was not far -from the head of the school. The Brennans—John, the late sheriff, and -his brother Joseph—David Moore, a Minister of the Crown in Victoria in -days to come, David Forbes, the present judge, and George Lord were the -Spofforths, Bannermans, and Massies of that long-past day—old fashioned, -perhaps, in a cricketing sense, but prophetic of triumphs to come. - -There were fights now and then, and 'what for no?' But these necessary -conflicts were conducted with all proper decorum at the bottom of the -playground. Mr. Cape, very properly, did not discourage them as long as -there was no unfairness. I reminded Mr. William Crane, stipendiary -magistrate, years since, of an obstinate engagement between us, in which -his superior science gained the victory. I 'knocked back' or put out a -knuckle of my right hand (as our schoolboy phrase was) in that or some -other desperate fray. Dr. Parsons, a medical friend whom I met in the -street, reduced the swelling for me. The worthy stipendiary showed a -similar displacement, attributable to the same cause, as we compared -notes. - -Ronald Cameron was one of our leading champions, being ready to fight -anything or anybody at short notice. He challenged to the combat Cyrus -Doyle, a long-limbed native, big enough to eat him, with the assurance -of a gamecock defying an emu. He lost the fight, of course; but no other -boy of his size in the school would have thought of commencing it. He -had been at sea for a year, and was thereby enabled to tell us wonderful -tales of his adventures among the South Sea Islands—much after the -fashion of 'Jack Harkaway,' who, however, like gas in the time of Guy -Fawkes, 'wasn't then inwented.' In after-years a report was current -among us that he was lost at sea. Whether true or not I am unable to -say. He certainly was, with the exception of Carden Collins, the most -utterly fearless boy I ever saw. - -Of course, with so large a school, under masters were required. These -gentlemen were excellent teachers and conscientious disciplinarians. -First came Mr. Murray, the English and arithmetical master; then Mr. -O'Brien, writing master and teacher of mathematics. He had a way of -saying, when arrived at the Q.E.D. of a problem in Euclid, 'And the -thing is done.' How well I remember his desk and the pen he was always -mending! No steel pens in those days. We had to learn to mend our own -quill pens and keep them in good order. If the pens were bad and the -writing suffered thereby, we suffered in person. This led to the careful -preparation of the obsolete goose-quill—now a figure of speech, a thing -of the past. - -The Rev. Mr. Woolls was for a year or more classical master. He -afterwards went to Parramatta and established himself independently. A -fair-haired, ruddy-faced, Kingsley-looking young Englishman was he when -he first came to Sydney College. He was the ideal tutor, and most -popular with us all: strict in school, but full of life and gaiety when -lessons were over. - -The late Reverend David Boyd, afterwards of East Maitland, a graduate of -Trinity College, Dublin, succeeded him. He was an accomplished person if -you like: a first-rate classical scholar, with a fair knowledge of -French, German, and Italian—possibly Hebrew, for he knew pretty well -everything, from astronomy to single-stick, fencing to comparative -philology. He rode, drove, shot, fished, painted, was musical, -mathematical—a mesmerist doubtless. 'Omnibus rebus et quibusdem aliis' -ought to have been his motto. We boys looked upon him as a successor of -the Admirable Crichton, and revered him accordingly. I was very glad -when he 'followed the rush' to Port Phillip in 1842, and gave the -Hammonds, Howards, myself, and a few other ex-Sydney College boys our -last year's teaching. We ought to have made the most of it, for, as none -of us got any more, we had to rely upon those early years of -conscientious grounding for the foundation of any edifice of learning we -should elect to place thereon. It has proved extremely useful to all of -us, and it was no one's fault but our own if we did not imbibe every -form of useful knowledge short of what university training alone could -have supplied. - -Besides these gentlemen we had drawing and French masters. Mr. Rodius -was a German artist, a painter in watercolours and a limner of -likenesses in crayon. Many of the early celebrities will owe whatever -immortality they may secure, to his industrious pencil. Still linger in -old colonial mansions a few portraits, not obtruded perhaps, but too -life-like to be lost sight of, bearing the signature 'C. Rodius.' In our -family scrap-album several water-colour sketches are to be seen, showing -perhaps more than the portraits—which were necessary 'pot-boilers' in -that material age—the true artistic touch. He used to scold us, his -pupils, for our indifference and inattention: 'Ven I was yong I did rone -a whole mile every day so as to be in dime vor my bainding lezzon; I -belief you would all rone a mile do esgabe it.' I don't know that he -succeeded in forming artists of that generation, but possibly we may -have been rendered more appreciative of the paintings which most of us -were to behold in the Galleries of Europe. Mr. Stanley, our French -master, knew his Paris intimately, I doubt not. He had the Parisian -accent, too, very different in quality from the provincial French which, -when spoken fluently, enables so many professors of the language to pass -muster. He was a man of distinguished bearing and 'club' form, -resembling curiously in appearance, and in some other ways, a late -fashionable celebrity. Why he had come to live in a colony and teach -French at a boarding-school we might wonder, but had no means of -ascertaining. His life, doubtless, contained one of the romances of -which Australia was at that time full. He was generous to all his -pupils. No unkind word was ever said regarding him. He imparted to us a -thorough comprehension of the genius of the language; and if we never -fully probed the subtle distinctions of irregular verbs, it was no fault -of his. Long afterwards, when at the Grand Hôtel de Louvre, or the -'Trois Frères Provencaux,' I was able to make my wants known, surrounded -by British and American capitalists, sitting mute as fishes, I recalled -with gratitude Mr. Stanley's faithful monitions. - -One of our school games was, of course, that of 'fives.' We played -against one of the high gables of the college building, where the ground -had been partially levelled; but it was rather rough still. A road-party -was doing something to the present College Street when a master -suggested that I should ask my friend Mr. Felton Mathew, then -Surveyor-General and Chief Road-superintendent, to allow the men to -complete our 'fives' court. Mr. Mathew was our neighbour at Enmore; he -bought the ground from my father on which he built Penselwood. My -request was granted, and a party of men under an overseer soon made -another place of it. - -A tragical incident connected with the game occurred about this time. -Some of the boys were playing in Sydney against a high wall in a court -built for the purpose. It was not properly supported, for it fell -suddenly, killing poor Billy Jones, who was one of the players. I don't -think I remember any other accident. There was an epidemic of influenza, -precisely like the 'fog fever' of recent years in symptom, cause, and -effect. It was universal, severe, and troublesome, but we all recovered -in due time. Even 'fog fever,' therefore, is no new thing. A certain -school of weather prophets is convinced that, as they state their -proposition, 'the seasons have changed; since the old colonial days they -have become drier or cooler, even hotter, sometimes.' After a pretty -clear recollection of most of the seasons since the 'three years' -drought' of 1836-7-8, I am opposed to that belief. What has been will be -again. People were justified in surmising about the time of last autumn -that it had forgotten how to rain in New South Wales and part of -Queensland. In this year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and -eighty-seven that theory may be said to have exploded. - -What was a really exceptional, even phenomenal, form of weather, -however, did take place in and near Sydney in one of the dry years -mentioned, which was a fall of snow. We made snowballs at Enmore and -enjoyed the usual schoolboy amusements connected therewith. It must have -been nearly as cold a day as last Monday week. There was snow on all the -hills around Albury, but I did not hear of any snowballing quite so near -Sydney as I refer to. If the Messrs. Chaffey Brothers succeed in their -irrigation scheme, and make the Mildura salt-bush wilderness to bloom as -the rose, we may attain partial security from droughts at least. -Nevertheless let us pray to be delivered from the legendary visitations -which grey-headed aboriginals have described to pioneer settlers. Such -an one, unbroken for _seven years_, is now laying waste Queensland. - -The sons of Sir Thomas Mitchell—Livingstone, Roderick, and Murray—were -among the denizens of that old enclosure of learning, where, as Hood so -truly sings— - - Ay! there's the playground—there's the lime, - Beneath whose shade in summer's prime - So wildly I have read! - Who sits there now and skims the cream - Of young romance and weaves a dream - Of love and cottage bread? - -Who, indeed! and how few are left of all that joyous crew that ran and -leaped, shouted and whooped with the delight of abounding animal -spirits? Besides the Mitchells were the sons of Colonel Snodgrass; the -Dowlings, the present worthy judge and his brother Vincent; the -Ritchies; the Nortons, James and John; George Wigram Allen; the -Mannings, Arthur and Henry. These with others might be considered the -aristocratic section, but there were no divisions founded upon social -inequalities. We learned and fed, played and lived generally, in -generous and hearty fellowship. - -William Wentworth the younger, who afterwards distinguished himself at -Cambridge, but died early, was intellectually a loss to his native land -of no trifling extent. - -John Lang, whose name to this day is well remembered in the Madras -Presidency, was a Sydney College boy. Known to be clever, no one was -surprised to hear that he distinguished himself at Cambridge, and passed -as a barrister with credit. He made a short visit to Sydney afterwards, -where, politically, he followed the banner of Mr. Wentworth. But he -preferred to quit Australia for the exciting life and larger fees with -which Indian barristers are credited. There, thanks to an unusual -facility for acquiring languages, he acquired legal celebrity and a -brilliant forensic reputation. He gained the historic case of Jootie -Persaud, a native contractor, against the Government, which involved -half a million of money. His fee, it was said, paid by the grateful -plaintiff, was the royal one of a _lakh of rupees_ (£10,000). A -brilliant companion, a more than popular society man, whose promising -career was cut short by an early death, he found time to write several -Anglo-Indian and an Australian novelette or two. _Will He Marry Her?_, -_The Forger's Wife_, _York; you're wanted_, are still in constant -demand, judging from the number of cheap editions issued. But to my mind -_Wanderings in India_ is one of the best of the lighter descriptions of -Eastern life ever published. The mingled realism and pathos of the style -have been rarely excelled. - -Our worthy master was fully aware that moral suasion was by no means -wholly to be relied upon for the steady stimulation of his troop along -the high-road of knowledge. Yet did he make from time to time appeals to -the higher nature, attributed to boys in improving works of fiction. - -'Bear in mind,' he would say on these occasions, 'that you are to be the -future leaders and guides of society in this new country, which is -destined to develop into such a great and important one. Out of your -ranks, from among those who stand before me in this hall this day, will -be chosen the judges, the magistrates of the land, the clergymen, the -lawyers, the legislators and civil servants. These high positions and -responsible offices must be filled by you, or boys of like age and -training, when grown to be men. Should you not, therefore, strive -earnestly, resolutely, to fit yourselves to discharge the duties to -which in the course of nature you are to be called, intelligently, -efficiently, honourably? And is there any probability that such will be -the case unless you apply yourselves lovingly, perseveringly, to the -tasks set you by me, your teacher and your friend, for which purpose and -no other you are placed here by your worthy parents? Master Jones will -now commence the Latin lesson of the day—the second ode of Horace, if I -mistake not, etc.' - -Portions of this wise, thoughtful advice were probably retained -mechanically, as an exercise of memory, though not seriously reflected -upon. Much passed 'in at one ear and out of the other,' unheeded and -soon forgotten, with the incredible heedlessness of early youth. Yet how -strangely accurate has been the fulfilment of these long-past warnings. -Among us then stood in embryo a Chief Justice, since eminent among high -legal authorities, dying in proved possession of a massive intellect, a -wide-reaching grasp of principles, a rapid faculty of generalisation -which will ever cause his memory to be revered and his decisions to be -quoted; three puisne judges, all of whom have earned the respect of men -for legal attainment and unswerving impartiality; a Right Honourable -Privy Councillor of our Gracious Sovereign, whose Jubilee (now that half -a century has rolled by since Hugh Ranclaud and I, arms crony-like about -each other's necks, heard the Proclamation of her majority read under -the oaks of Macquarie Place) received a world-wide celebration. A Privy -Councillor, moreover, whose privilege it was, by one act of -statesmanlike inspiration, to nationalise Australia and to immortalise -himself. - -Alfred Stephen became a clergyman, always a hard-working, conscientious -parish priest, beloved by his parishioners. He died in harness. Poor -Connie, when I saw him many a year after his schoolboy days, was no -longer handsome and careless, but as an eminent solicitor, and thus -chained to the Bench, a galley-slave of the law, comparatively war-worn -of visage. And pray what are we all in middle life but the bond-slaves, -scarcely disguised, of some form of ownership which we dignify with the -name of Circumstance? He and his brother Matthew Henry were in the House -of Assembly at one time, thus justifying the prophecy as to the school -being the nursery of future legislators. - -Sir James Martin was Her Majesty's Attorney-General, and afterwards -Chief-Justice William Forster was in more than one Ministry. Allan -Macpherson was for many years regularly returned to Parliament. Sir -George Wigram Allen, the steadiest of workers at school, again kept -close to Hood's humorous declaration— - - Each little boy at Enfield School - Became an 'Enfield's Speaker. - -He, with the Honourable James Norton, his neighbour and class-fellow, -but continued unchanged the steadfastness and success of his school -record. With one's schoolfellows the physical proportion seems to alter -strangely and, in a sense, unnaturally in the aftertime. The big boys, -the eldsters of one's early days, when met with in other years, appear -unaccountably shrunken; while the 'little boys' of the same period seem -to have developed abnormally and assumed the gigantic. For instance, a -small orphan creature was brought to the school very young. He seemed -unable to face the strangeness of his surroundings. When, years -afterwards, I met at the race-ground of another colony an athletic -six-foot manager of a cattle-station, mounted on a fiery steed, and by -repute the show stock-rider of the district, I could not reconcile it to -credibility that he should be the 'Bluey' (such was his sobriquet) of -our school days. He was, nevertheless. - -The Broughtons of Tumut, Archer and Robert—now no more—were among the -elders of the Sydney College. During the last two years I have visited -their homes in that romantic corner of New South Wales. All this time I -had a curiosity to explore their ancient town of Tumut under the shadow -of the Australian Alps, with its rushing river, green valleys, and -romantic scenery. I shall always feel thankful that my desire has been -gratified. - -We were not permitted to go boating in the harbour unless in charge of -relatives. And very properly. But we were allowed to bathe in the summer -afternoons, after applying for formal leave. - -Our greatest treat was, on the Saturday half-holiday, the picnic to -Double Bay. We chose this as being a quasi-romantic spot. Some one had -commenced a mansion there and had not completed it. There was a deserted -vineyard, which looked like an amphitheatre; an artificial fish-pond -too—an object of deep interest. In those golden summer eves we gathered -bagfuls of the native currant—a small fruit capable of being converted -into jam in spite of a startling acidity of flavour—and having eaten our -lunch, 'sub Jove,' used to fish, bathe, and scamper about the beach till -it was time to return. Still runs the tiny creek into which we used to -dash 'like troutlets in a pool'; still ebb and flow the tides of the -little bay; but the neighbourhood is crowded with buildings, incongruous -to the scene, and the glory of youthful adventure, which then pervaded -all things, like the _genius loci_, has, with the long-past years, fled -for ever. - - - - - SYDNEY FIFTY YEARS AGO - - -Soon after we went to live at Enmore, I being then nine or ten years -old, my first pony was presented to me by my father. A tiny Timor mare -was little Bet; Dick Webb, the well-known horse-dealer and livery-stable -keeper, being the intermediary. Cargoes of these small Eastern horses, -degenerate in size only, from scant feeding and crowded pastures, were -then imported from the islands of Timor and Lombok. Disrespectful -remarks have been written touching the quality of these early Australian -hackneys. They were accused of spoiling the breed of our horses. -Spoiling, forsooth! Nothing better ever trod on turf than these -miniature Barbs, for such they undoubtedly were. Clean-legged, -long-pasterned, bright-eyed, lean-headed, mostly with well-placed -shoulders and well-bent hocks, each with pluck enough for a troop of -horse—where could one get a better cross than these wonderful little -'tats,' with legs and feet of iron, and though only ranging from ten to -twelve hands high, able to carry a heavy man a long day's journey? - -The Shetland pony, grand little chap as he may be, is a degenerate -cart-horse, nothing more; he can trot, walk, and carry a burly -gamekeeper up a steep hillside, but he has no pace. The Timor ponies, on -the contrary, with light-weights, could make very fair racing time, were -high-couraged and untiring, in or out of condition, bequeathing to their -offspring the fire and speed of the Eastern horse, with a quality of -legs and feet difficult to find nowadays. My little mare was a trotter, -a jumper, a clever all-round hack. A colt of my next Timor mare I used -to ride when I was a man grown, nearly twelve stone in weight, the which -impost he could carry like a bird, and even bolt with occasionally. - -More than one fashionably bred racehorse of the present day has the -blood of a Timor ancestress in his veins, and though the fact is not -obtruded, doubtless owes the staying power and undeniable legs and feet -to that infusion. In those early days whole cargoes of them were brought -through the streets of Sydney by the sailors, the manner being -thus—half-a-dozen were tied neck to neck with strong short ropes, a -halter attached to the one on the near side of the string, the which a -couple of stalwart sailors tugged manfully, another encouraging the line -from the rear. They were half-covered with hieroglyphs in the shape of -brands. Prices ranged from five pounds to ten, according to quality. The -sons of well-to-do people were to be seen mounted upon them. When fed -and groomed they were as showy and fast hackneys as a light-weight would -desire. - -While dwelling upon these incidents of an earlier day, the hours and -limits of school deserve notice. At the Sydney College we were expected -to attend at nine o'clock in the morning. At mid-day an hour's recess -was granted. In that interval the boarders dined; the day-scholars -having disposed of their lunches hurriedly, went in for as much play as -the time would admit. From 1 o'clock till 3 P.M. was occupied by -afternoon school; the day-scholars departing then whithersoever they -listed. The boarders dispersed to play cricket, went for a walk or into -town—after applying for leave in the latter cases. On Saturday we worked -from nine till twelve, when the half-holiday set in. There was no whole -holiday in my day. And three morning hours, multiplied by the weeks in a -year, should account for a fair measure of work. - -After the country had become fairly prosperous and it was seen that tens -of thousands of men could find work and room for their energy in the -virgin waste of the interior, immigration was encouraged by the -Government of the day. A bounty was paid to each emigrant or to the -agent who recommended or persuaded him to come to the far, unknown land. - -It was curious, even then, to find a class which held that they had a -vested labour interest in the colony—which disapproved strongly of -assisted, unrestricted immigration. They complained that other persons -should come out at the expense of the State to compete, as they alleged, -with them and lower the price of labour. - -'It was the prisoners' colony,' asserted the demagogues who formulated -this view. 'Free men had no right to come here, subsisted and helped by -the Government.' - -Enmore, being about three miles from the Sydney College, was rather far -for a daily walk before the advent of little Bet, but with the aid of a -drive now and then (of course there were no omnibuses) I managed it -pretty well at first. The only house at all near us was tenanted by Mrs. -Erskine, with whose sons I used to beguile the tedium of the road. Once -we asked a wood-carter for a lift, whom not acceding to our request, we -pelted with stones. He complained to the authorities, and we suffered in -person accordingly. Then an adventure befell which led to grief and -anxiety. It might well have been serious. I had started on the -home-track in the afternoon, when one of the tropical storms not unknown -in Sydney to this day commenced. The rain came down as if to repeat the -deluge, an inch apparently falling every ten minutes. The low lands near -the Haymarket were flooded. I was drenched. Streams and torrents coursed -down every channel. The drains burst up. Things looked bad for a long -walk with creeks to cross. At this juncture a tidy-looking old woman -(she sold milk) invited me to enter her dwelling. I did so, and found -myself in a neat and cleanly cottage. The rain not abating, she invited -me to stay for tea, exhibiting most excellent bread and butter. Finally, -discovering that I had so far to go and the waters being still 'out,' -she prevailed upon me, nothing loth, to remain all night. - -Unluckily, as it turned out, my father was in town, and had called at -the school to take me home. He was told that I had left shortly before. -Driving rapidly, being eager to overtake me, he reached home to find -that I had not turned up. After an anxious interval, during which fears -obtruded themselves that I had fallen into a creek or water-hole and so -got drowned, he rode back into town, searching vainly of course for my -extremely naughty self, then calmly reading by the light of a tallow -candle, my aged hostess meanwhile knitting. When he again visited the -College on the off-chance of my having concluded to return, and was told -to the contrary, he gave me up for lost. Mr. Cape, however, stated his -belief that R. B., though of tender years, was a boy exceptionally -capable of taking care of himself, and probably would be found even now -in a place of safety. - -This, however, was accepted by my anxious parent merely as an amiable -attempt at consolation, whereupon he rode home again through mud and -mire in despairing mood. A restless early riser by habit, he was in the -saddle before dawn, with a view to having the creeks and hollows -searched, when happening to pass my old woman's cottage, I recognised -the horses first (Australian fashion), my stern Governor and the groom -next. I called out. He turned and saw me. Anger would have been natural -and deserved. But he was too overjoyed at my return from the dead, as he -doubtless considered it. 'God forgive you, my boy, for what you have -caused us to suffer,' was all that he said. I rode home behind the -groom, and was received, I need not say, with what transports of -delight. Ah me, how ungrateful are we all for the care and tenderness -lavished upon us in childhood! - -'All's well that ends well' is a comforting and satisfactory proverb. -The good old dame was duly thanked and rewarded. Matters soon returned -to their former footing. But one mischance, directly proceeding from the -demoralisation of the household on that night, was of a serious and -melancholy nature. Our inestimable Alderney cow took advantage of the -open door of the feed-room to assimilate part of a truss of Lucerne hay; -then, 'acting with no more judgment than to take a drink,' died from -excessive inflation. An irreparable loss, and one remembered against me -at intervals long afterwards. - -Promoted to the Timor mare, I used to make pretty good time down -Brickfield Hill and so round Black Wattle Swamp and Mr. Shepherd's -garden. She was a good trotter, and I have owned a performer in that -line—fast, extra, or only moderate, but always a trotter—from that time -to this. A trotter is generally a good animal otherwise. I have seen few -exceptions. - -Mr. A. B. Spark, a mercantile magnate of the day, was our neighbour at -Cook's River. I was sent with a letter early one spring morning to -Tempé. There I found the good old gentleman in his garden. 'Can you eat -strawberries, my boy?' was his prompt inquiry. It is unnecessary to -repeat my answer. 'Then set to, and we'll have breakfast afterwards.' -That is the way to talk to a boy! I could have died for him; I respect -his memory now. At breakfast he told me that the pretty freestone, -white-columned house had been built on the model of a Greek temple in -the Vale of Tempé. Hence its classical name, which it still retains. The -fresh eggs, laid by pure Spanish hens, were the largest I had ever seen. -When he showed me some lop-eared rabbits after breakfast and promised me -a pair, my heart was almost too full. I rode back the happiest boy in -the land, and never forgot the old gentleman's amazing kindness. - -It may be that kindly memory, eliding the darker shadows of the past, -presents the colonial period which I am recalling, from 1831 to 1840, as -almost Arcadian in peaceful simplicity, in steadfast industry, in -freedom from atrocious crime, compared with later developments. And yet -New South Wales was then to all intents and purposes a convict colony. -Shiploads of prisoners arrived from time to time. Expirees from Tasmania -no doubt made their way to a land where wages were comparatively high, -and where new country offered a refuge from close official inspection. -Whether the old-fashioned rule—strict, vigilant, unrelaxing—was better -suited to the natural man, free or bond, than the present -mercy-mongering management, may partly be judged by results. - -'The bush'—a vast and trackless wilderness—was gradually being occupied -and reclaimed by that strange lover of the waste places of the earth, -the wilful, wicked, wandering Anglo-Saxon. Tragedies from time to time -doubtless occurred. Bushrangers were not unknown, but what were they to -the Kellys, the Halls and Gilbert, the Clarks and Morgans? Aboriginal -blacks were shot occasionally; more than one cruel murder was brought -home to the perpetrators, for which they justly atoned. At the same time -a lonely hut-keeper or shepherd was often found prone and motionless, -speared or clubbed as the case might be; many a stock-rider's horse came -home without him. Yet, in a general way, life and property were far more -secure under the modified martial law of the period than they have been -known to be under a constitutional Government and quasi-democratic rule. -When it is considered that for half a century the worst criminals of the -old country, as well as the more ordinary rogues, had been sent to -Australia, it says much for the management or for the material that so -orderly and improvable a society was evolved. - -If there were occasional crimes of deepest dye, who could feel surprise? -The wonder was that they were so few in comparison to the population. -Captain Knatchbull, ex-post-captain R.N., knocks out the brains of a -poor washerwoman for the sake of eight pounds sterling, ending on the -gallows a life of curiously varied villainy, which had included -attempted poisoning, mutiny, and betrayal of comrades. There was the -memorable 'Fisher's Ghost' tragedy, in which a supernatural agent was -alleged to have led to the discovery of a deed of blood. There were -crimes, doubtless, that cried aloud to heaven for vengeance, but which -never will be fully known till the Great Day. But discovery, -arraignment, and trial followed close on the heels of wrongdoers. In a -general way—I assert it unhesitatingly—Sydney was as quiet, as peaceful -and orderly in appearance as any town in Britain, save in the purlieus -of that half-recognised Alsatia, 'The Rocks'; more decent, sober, and -outwardly well-behaved than George Street and Pitt Street in 1887. - -It may truly be suggested that one of the great dangers of modern -civilisation—certainly of Australian national life—would appear to be -the crowding of an unreasonable proportion of the inhabitants into the -cities and larger towns. - -An increasingly dangerous class is there encouraged to grow and -multiply, averse to the honest and well-paid toil of the country, -preferring to it a precarious employment in a city, with the -accompaniment of the baser pleasures; clamouring at every interval of -employment for relief works, subsisting but for _panem et circenses_, -like the profligate populace of old Rome, the pandering to which -eventually sapped the grandeur and glory of the Mistress of the World. -_Absit omen!_ - -At the corner of Elizabeth and King Streets might have been seen a -provisional lock-up, used for the temporary detention of criminals about -to be tried at the adjoining courts. A rudely-hewn pillar of sandstone -had been deposited there, and served as a seat for wayfarers or persons -more immediately concerned. We schoolboys were chiefly interested in the -stocks, that old-fashioned detainer in which drunken and disorderly -persons were securely placed for such periods—a portion of a day—as the -magistrates might consider expedient. In such fashion was Hudibras fast -imprisoned when the lady and her steward coming by gazed on him bowed to -the earth with shame. In this ancient engine of distraint upon the human -property, in default of other, did the malcontents of the day sit, -stolid and defiant, upon a more or less uncomfortable seat, 'fast bound -in misery and iron.' One doubts whether it would not be more effectual -now than the short sentence served in a comfortable, secluded -establishment, which the modern offender boasts that 'he can do on his -head.' - -During the whole period of the time embraced in my reminiscence, I -cannot recall a week while we lived in Sydney or near to it, that the -Domain and Botanical Gardens were not a joy, a solace, a luxury to us -and to the society with which we were acquainted. What a priceless boon -was thus bestowed upon the inhabitants of Sydney then and for all time -by the dedication of this lovely natural park to the public! What -walks—what drives—what merry bathing parties—what lingering in summer -eves—what early morning saunters has not this precious primeval -fragment, this art-adorned yet beauteous wilderness, witnessed? The -pleasure then enjoyed by the toil-worn citizen, the stranger, or the -invalid was more exquisite and intense, from an assured freedom from -that modern pest, the larrikin. All who were met with in the gardens -were courteous and well-mannered persons for the most part; for -whomsoever conducted themselves otherwise there was a short shrift, and -if not a ready gallows, an effectively deterrent punishment. - -The early formation of William Street, now the great arterial highway to -Darlinghurst and the aristocratic suburbs, was then progressing. In its -straight course it carved away a few acres of the Rosebank suburban -property then owned by Mr. Laidley. On the triangular portion so excised -were three white cedars, the most graceful of our shade trees. No doubt -the proprietor was compensated for the severance and resumption, though -not at the prices ruling in favour of latter-day claimants. - -What fortunes might have been made by judicious, or even injudicious, -purchasers of suburban land in those days! No one foresaw that any -notable rise in value would take place in less than a century or two. -That land purchased by the acre would sell for such prices in the life -of the buyer, by _the foot_, entered not into the mind of man. Wharves, -street frontages, building sites, allotments all passed under the hammer -of the Government auctioneer of the day at curiously low prices. Who was -to foresee that gold, silver, copper, iron, lead, and tin were all to -make their appearance in peaceful, pastoral New South Wales and her -erstwhile appanage the Port Phillip District, afterwards the Colony of -Victoria? - -The great public schools of that day were our College, the King's School -at Parramatta, and the Normal Institution, this last organised by Dr. -Lang—that eminent colonising clergyman. The Reverend Robert Forrest was -the Principal of the King's School. He was understood to have been a -strict disciplinarian, as indeed he needed to be. We of the Sydney -College thought ourselves superior in scholarship; but doubtless good -work was done then as now at the Parramatta school. - -Mr. Carmichael—Scottish, of course—presided at the Normal Institution, -which was situated on the northern side of the Racecourse, or Hyde Park -as at present named. We were near enough to play cricket together -sometimes; also to fight, indeed, as occasions of strife will arise -among schoolboys. Roland Cameron, a boy by nature warlike in the earlier -stages of life, had then his celebrated combat, having challenged an -oldster of the Normal, a head taller than himself. He didn't come off -victorious, but he walked forth with an apparently calm consciousness -that he couldn't be really conquered, which I have rarely seen -paralleled among later and more tragic experiences. - - - - - OLD TIME THOROUGHBREDS - - -When the sons of Woden are admitted into Valhalla, it will be an -incomplete Elysium for some of us, maugre the perennial flow of ale and -the æsthetic fancy of the goblets, unless the good steed Hengst, whom we -have so loved on earth, be permitted resurrection. Alick and Jimmy -Hunter would miss Romeo. Could Cornborough be excluded from any realm of -bliss which contained 'Dolly' Goldsmith? How superior were those grand -horses, not to mention The Premier and Rory O'More, in all their -attributes to the average human individual, about whose title to such -noble immortality there is no question. I cannot believe that they are -doomed to extinction, to eternal oblivion. They are dead and gone, -doubtless. But lest any reader of these memories should lack future -opportunity of feasting his eyes upon those wondrous equine shapes, I -essay faintly to recall their leading characteristics. - -Romeo, son of Sir Hercules and Pasta, was a golden chestnut, with a -narrow blaze and white hind legs. Originally imported to Tasmania from -England, he was in 1842 located at Miamamaluke Station on the 'Devil's -River' in Victoria, then the property of the Messrs. Hunter. He died in -my possession some years later, and, as I used to look at him for at -least half an hour every day for the first few months of ownership, I -may, without presumption, attempt a pen-and-ink portrait. - -Not a large horse—he might almost be classified as small, indeed, -compared with modern fashionable families, but of superb symmetry and -superfine quality. 'A head light and lean,' though scarcely equal to The -Premier's, his neck was of moderate length, with a delicately-marked -crest. But his shoulder! Never have I seen mortal horse with such -another. It was a study. So oblique was it; so graceful and elastic was -the fore-action in consequence, that you wondered how horses of less -perfect mechanism got on at all. His back was short, his croup high. The -finely formed, silken-haired tail, which after his death hung in my -room, was set on like that of an Arab. He might easily have been ridden -without a girth to the saddle. Though his back appeared to be hardly the -length of one, he stood over more ground than horses that looked bigger -in every way. His barrel was rounded and well ribbed up. Below the knee -and hock the legs were admirably clean and flat-boned, with pasterns -just long enough to give the elastic motion which so peculiarly -distinguishes the thoroughbred. - -In those days (I was young, to be sure) I occasionally relieved my -pent-up feelings by the perpetration of verse. In an old scrap-book are -traced certain 'Lines to a Thoroughbred' which must have been inspired -by Romeo. They commence— - - Is he not glorious, in the high beauty proud, - Which from his desert-spurning Arab sires - To him was given? Mark the frontlet broad! - The delicate, pointed ear, and silken mane, - Scarce coarser than the locks which Delia boasts, - Attest his stainless race, etc. - -Allusion was also made, if I mistake not, to a problematic ancestor, the -well-ridden steed of the poets, who after - - Children's voices greet the rescued sire, - -became 'a cherished playmate, loving and beloved.' Though high-tempered -enough, Romeo was a good-humoured horse in the main, but the -companionship of grooms and stable-boys had partly rubbed off the -inherited _gentillesse_ of the desert. Notably in one particular. - -Whether he had been in some way teased or troubled, or that some -mischievous groom had been at the pains to teach him the specific trick, -I cannot say; but the fact was notorious that if any one—in or near the -stable—made a noise with the mouth, like the drawing of a cork, the old -horse fell into a paroxysm of rage and went open-mouthed at all and -sundry being within reach at the time. - -The knowledge of this peculiarity was turned to account more than once -as a practical joke, sometimes with results more or less unpleasant to -the unsuspecting bystander. But the joke occasionally recoiled. I happen -to know of one instance. A well-known veterinary surgeon of those days, -one Mr. Robertson—afterwards drowned in the Goulburn, poor -fellow!—happened to be paying a visit of inspection, when a thoughtless -friend made the cork-drawing signal. It was Romeo _versus_ Robertson, -with a vengeance. Like a wild horse of the prairies, he charged the -astonished vet, a resolute active man, who had all he could do to -protect himself with a heavy, cutting whip which he fortunately carried -at the time. He got out of the box unharmed, but seriously ruffled and -demoralised. - -The first thing which occurred to him, however, on banging the door of -the loose-box behind him, was to lay his whip with hearty goodwill and -emphasis across the shoulders of the humourist. Robertson was a burly -Scot of more than average physique. His blood was up, and I do not -recall the fact of the author of this unusually keen jest making -effective resistance. He probably was cured of that particular form of -joking, and learned practically that horseplay is one of the games in -which two can engage. I never knew the old horse to commit unprovoked -assaults, and think that some unusual experience must have led to the -tendency described. - -Though ordinarily well-behaved, it will be noted that there was a savour -of dangerous dealing when aroused, and, as might be expected, a few of -his progeny were not famous for the mildness of their tempers. They -were, however, handsome and distinguished-looking, good in every -relation of equine life. They supplied for many years a regular -contingent to all the races in Victoria, and, indeed, within a widely -extended radius round Kalangadoo and beyond the South Australian border. -Few indeed were the meets, metropolitan or provincial, in which a Romeo -colt or filly did not figure in the first flight. Latterly he became the -property of Mr. Hector Norman Simson, from whose stud the celebrated -Flying Doe and other cracks were evolved. - -Young Romeo, Baroness, Countess, and Clinker had all won reputations on -the Flemington race-course—which then presented a somewhat different -appearance—before 1842. Young Romeo, a handsome, upstanding, dark -chestnut horse, then the property of Captain Brunswick Smyth of the 50th -Regiment, was raffled, in 1843, I think for a hundred and fifty guineas. -We took a five-guinea ticket, but my drawing, innocently young as I then -was, did not carry the proverbial gambler's luck. Oberon, a sweet little -white-faced chestnut that Dr. David Thomas used to drive somewhat -unprofessionally as tandem leader about Melbourne in 1851, was one of -the later offspring. The worthy doctor, ever ready for a lark, delighted -in getting Oberon's head over the shoulders of stout old gentlemen in -the street before they were aware of him or his chariot. - -It was somewhere near the end of the 'forties,' those pioneering years -paving the way to the golden era which set in for Australia shortly -after their decease. I happened to be in Melbourne upon a cattle -speculation. At Kirk's Bazaar after breakfast I saw my ideal steed in a -loose-box, apparently for sale. After feasting my eyes upon him for a -reasonable period, I interviewed Mr. Dalmahoy Campbell, and sought -particulars. - -The old horse by this time had grown hollow-backed, and was evidently on -his last legs. Still at a moderate price he would not be unprofitable, -and the value of his blood distributed amid my stud could hardly, I -thought, be over-estimated. The main thing to be considered by a prudent -young pastoralist (I really was one in those days) was the price. This -turned out to be under £50. Money was not abundant in that particular -year. Stock were ludicrously cheap. For some reason his owners had -decided to sell the dear old horse. His age and growing infirmities were -against him. Still here was a chance I might never get again. I had just -made a largish offer for the store cattle referred to. There was no use -talking, however. I felt like a man who had been offered the Godolphin -Arabian by a sheik hard-pushed for a ransom. I _must_ have the horse; -that was all about it. - -There was another slight difficulty. I had not ten £5 notes in my -pocket. Far otherwise. I stated facts in the office. I can see old -'Dal's' kind face as he said, 'We'll take your bill at three months, my -boy; that will give you time to turn round.' I gratefully assented, and -Romeo—intoxicating thought—was mine. That was my first bill. Never -before did I write 'Rolf Boldrewood' across the face or back or below -any of those insidious substitutes for ready money. Would that the -negotiable instrument had been my last. Well impressed on my mind was -the look of the worthy gentleman who managed the financial department of -the firm which had the privilege of 'keeping my account' when I -exultingly informed him of my transaction. He had grown grey in -commerce, not altogether successfully. Doubtless memory carried him back -for a moment over years of high hope, guarded enterprise, succeeded by -wearing anxiety and dull despair. Looking into my youthful, sanguine -countenance, he said, 'Take my advice, and never sign another. I wish -_I_ had never seen one.' - -I did _not_ take his advice, it is hardly necessary to say. It was many -a year before the application came in. Such is the general course of -events. But if every future acceptance had been as anxiously considered, -as punctually paid, and as profitably contracted as Number One -aforesaid, no great harm would have been done. - -I rode proudly out of Melbourne next day, leading my valued purchase, -duly muzzled and sheeted, along the western road. Travelling by easy -stages, only varied by a swim across the Leigh River, 'where ford there -was none,' I got on well. It was an anxious moment for me, though, when -the strong current swept my precious steed round in midstream; but he -fought gallantly for a landing, which we finally gained. A slip, a -stagger, and we were safely over. At Dunmore he received the admiration -which was his due, while I was congratulated on my enterprise and good -fortune. - -When I reached home the illustrious stranger was treated with deserved -attention. A roomy loose-box was specially dedicated to his use. Boiled -food, ground corn, every delicacy of the season was lavished upon him. A -revival of constitution apparently took place. But he only lived a year, -leaving behind him, however, at Dunmore the beautiful, graceful Pasta, -half-sister to St. George, and also to The Margravine and Track-Deer; -and at Squattlesea Mere, Bonnie Dundee, Ben Bolt, Fairy, and a few other -notable nags. 'He owed me nothing,' as his groom said when I sorrowfully -attended his burial in the capacity of chief mourner. He lies under a -blackwood tree on an 'island' in the mere, where the close-spreading -clover blossoms climb and struggle amid the tussock grass of the -marshes. He was accorded respectful interment, and my grief was more -sincere than that which accompanies more ostentatious funerals. He had -not perhaps the opportunity which another year would have furnished of -leaving an illustrious progeny in the Port Fairy district, but some of -his offspring made their mark. - -Dundee, being my principal hackney and stock horse, was a wonderful -performer. An admixture of Clifton blood gave him height and 'scope.' He -had the sloped Romeo shoulder, with propelling machinery of unusual -power. He was fortunately just short of racing speed. But he was a grand -'camp horse'; could be ridden without flinching right into the shoulder -of the worst outlaw of the herd, carrying a fourteen-stone weight over -any three-railed fence, and stay for a week. He lived to make a -trans-Murray reputation, and still the wild riders of the mallee -remember the powerful chestnut that was so well to the front with -Sylvester Browne and the brothers Beveridge in more than one -'moonlighting' foray. - -Ben Bolt, his half-brother, was a bright chestnut, with four white legs, -a broad blaze, and a considerable quantity of white in the corners of -his eyes, with which he had an uncanny way of regarding his rider. He -was truly illustrious in more ways than one. There is no record of any -white man (or black one either) having seen him tired. At the end of the -longest day, or the most terrific 'cutting-out' work, Ben's head was up, -his clear eyes watchful, his uneasy tail, switching slowly from side to -side, like a leopard not fully agitated. He had been known to leave -Melbourne after a trip with fat cattle (his rider had a young wife on -the station certainly), and late on the second day the marshes of the -Eumeralla were in sight. A hundred and eighty miles—winter weather too! -I can state from personal experience that as a hackney he was -deliciously easy, fast, and free. But the luxurious sensation of being -so charmingly carried was modified by the ever-present thought that he -could 'buck you into a tree-top' whenever it so pleased him; and at what -minute the fit might take him no one had ever been able to foretell. - -Sprung from a daughter of the Traveller line, Ben inherited the dire -resolution of that potent blood, with a fervent intensity peculiar to -the descendants of Romeo. The 'nick' was therefore only a partial -success. If one had required, as do certain Indian rajahs, a horse -warranted to distinguish himself in combat with a tiger, Ben Bolt was -the very animal. Once let him get his heels into position and no living -tiger would have had a show. He might as well spring at a mitrailleuse. -But under saddle he was distinctly unreliable. - -I used to break my own colts in those days, and in the course of events -Ben was duly haltered and enticed into the stable. Though sensitive -certainly, he was not overtly rebellious until the third day, when he -kicked at me in what I held to be an unfair and treacherous manner. I -gave him a tap in requital with the butt-end of a hay-fork, upon which -he deliberately kicked down the partition between his and the next -loose-box. He hardly left a slab standing, and generally conducted -himself as if he was not sure whether he would not smash the whole -building while he was about it. - -I avoided contention after this, and in every way applied myself to calm -his fears and inspire confidence. It was all in vain. When approached he -would contract every muscle till his flesh felt like a board, glaring -the while at you with his strangely bright, white-rimmed eyes, in a -blood-curdling homicidal way. However, at the end of a week I backed -him, looking to every strap and girth, and picking a good soft spot to -fall on. He was led, as was the fashion then, along by the side of -another horse, and, to every one's surprise, walked away like an old -stager. No irregularity took place the next day or the one following. -His mouth was good; he held his head up. I was charmed, and rode him -proudly about by myself. Next morning he was queer and sullen, and in -the middle of the day, for no earthly reason apparently, reared, -plunged, bolted, and commenced to buck like a demon. I 'stuck to him' -until he gradually got way on, and being apparently temporarily insane, -ran into a paling fence, against which he fell down. I came off, of -course, but remounted, when he did nothing further. - -I rode him daily afterwards, until he passed into the second stage of -breaking, being comparatively handy and pleasanter than many older -horses, but we never seemed to get nearer to confidential relations. He -took me unawares again ('underhand,' as Mr. Paterson's native young man -hath it) while out on the run, and kicked savagely at me while falling. -I began to think—having certain responsibilities—that it was hardly -worth while to run such risk of life and limb only for the sake, too, of -twenty or thirty pounds, and the strictly local reputation of 'being -able to ride anything.' - -So I relinquished the task of Ben's education to Frank Lawrence, my stud -groom, than whom no better rough-rider ever sat in saddle. Plucky, -patient, and a fine horseman generally, he gradually brought the rebel -round. The reformation was apparently complete. Kept in regular work, he -ceased to be fractious, and acquired a decent character in the -neighbourhood. He even carried the black boy without protest. - -Months passed. The stock-riders were mustering up for the morning's -work—neighbours and station hands. Frank was sitting carelessly on Ben -Bolt, now regularly 'made' and recognised as a stock-horse. Suddenly, -without a moment's warning he 'exploded'—there is no other word for it. -Before any one could offer a remark, Frank was catapulted on to the -crown of his head, and Ben was tearing down the paddock, kicking at his -bridle-reins and trying to send the saddle after the man. Frank arose -slowly, and after a careful examination of his neck had convinced him -that it was not really broken, as might have been surmised, said, 'I -believe Ben means to finish me yet.' - -'I would shoot him now if I thought that, Frank,' I answered; 'the -treacherous brute. Better take another horse to-day.' - -Frank, of course, would not hear of this, and remounted the ungrateful -one, led up as he was in a few minutes, with eyes like burning coals and -nostrils quivering in anything but a reassuring manner. He made no sign, -however, and came in, after about fourteen hours' galloping and camp -work, as fresh as a daisy. - -When the station changed hands I passed our mutual friend over to Frank, -who sold him at a profit. Our paths lay thenceforward apart. Years -afterwards, my brother and I walked into the stables of Cobb and Co. at -Hamilton, by candlelight, while awaiting a start in the mail. The team -which interested us stood harnessed and ready. - -'Did you ever see that chestnut leader before?' I queried. - -'Great Jove! there he stands—white legs and all—the dear old tiger. To -think that we should ever come _to sit behind Ben Bolt!_' - -'Looks like it.' - -'Nice horse that chestnut with the white hind legs, ostler.' - -'Pretty fair, sir. Depends on 'ow 'e's 'andled, in a manner of -speakin'.' - -'So I should think. How did you get him?' - -'Well, he chucked Mr. Jones sky-high; broke his back-ribs, like; so he -took and swapped him to the Company.' - -'How does he go?' - -'Well, he _goes_ right enough when you get him in, but we drives him a -double stage every day, just to stiddy him. He's been a year on this -piece, and we don't care how soon we get shut on 'im.' - -As the day broke, the cry of 'all aboard' was sounded; the passengers -took their seats in the coach as the horses were led out. The leaders -were not 'hitched' till the last moment; Ben Bolt having a second helper -told off to him as he came out with head up and waving tail, the old -fashion. _Very_ quickly and noiselessly was he attached, and as the -driver drew his reins tight the coach moved on, without a word or -whip-touch, Ben demonstrating by the way in which he went into his -collar that he was ready and willing to undertake the whole contract. At -the end of our stage of twenty-two miles, done in quick time, three -horses only were taken out. Ben Bolt, after having run true and level -for every yard of the distance, and never once having slackened his -pace, was treated to another twenty miles in the company of the fresh -team. - -'Good horse, that near-side leader,' I remarked to the driver -tentatively. - -'He's the devil on four legs, if you want to know,' gruffly answered -that official; 'takes me all my time to watch him. He'll smash some of -us yet, if he don't kill himself first.' - -I returned a year after to find the prediction verified. Ben Bolt was no -more. True to his name and reputation, he had broken away from the -helper while being put to, and after a headlong gallop was discovered to -have injured himself beyond hope of recovery. He died a soldier's death. -But for the 'accidents and offences' resulting from his demoniac temper, -I shall always hold his maternal ancestor, Traveller, mainly -responsible. - - - - - THE FIRST PORT FAIRY HUNT - - -The cattle were pretty well broken to their new run at Squattlesea Mere. -Little more was necessary than to go round them daily and discourage -explorers. The heathen were temporarily at rest, brooding (like the -Boers) over fresh ambuscades. A suspicion of monotone pervaded the -'eucalyptine cloisterdom,' when, neither by telegram nor newspaper—our -Arcadia knew neither brain-disturber in 1844—word came orally, -personally transmitted, that the Mount Rouse Hounds were to throw off at -Port Fairy, with races to follow, the whole to wind up with a ball. - -These astonishing tidings so affected me that I became unable to settle -down to daily details. A meet with _real_ fox-hounds, races, -and—temptation overwhelming—a ball! I have resisted things in my day, -have exhibited Spartan virtue in sorrowful altruism, economies, -mortifications of the flesh, what not. But this special attraction was -complicated, ingenious, subtly alluring 'in the brave days when we were -twenty-one.' I lacked a year or so of that romantic period, and -consequently was more prudent, more intolerant, and more abstemious than -in the aftertime. People may talk as they like, but youth is the time -for wisdom. That riper years bring prudence, steadfastness, -circumspection, indeed any improvement of mind or body, is a widespread -error. It is a fable of the wary ancient. The real sage, the true -philosopher, the consistent disciple, is the ingenuous youth. The Greeks -knew this. Contrast Telemachus with that old humbug Ulysses, -far-travelled, much experienced in war; council, battle, and peace alike -familiar to him. How reprehensible was his conduct, flirting with -Calypso and other beguilers, poor lonely 'Griselda Penelope' doing her -worsted work and tatting from year to year, the excellent Telemachus -meanwhile looking after the 'selection' at Ithaca. However, this is -miles away from the scent. 'Get in there, Fancy.' - -In the solitude of my slab-hut this announcement stirred my blood. I -considered the pecuniary aspect of the question, and was nearly not -going at all. Coin was scarce in the forties, credit shy and difficult. -More prudent by far it seemed to remain quietly at home. And yet it -_was_ hard. A glimpse of Paradise to be had scarce thirty miles away. A -brilliant idea flashed, meteor-like, through my brain. The expense would -not amount to more than a bullock. One bullock! The herd was increasing. -And I could work so much harder afterwards. My conscience was salved. I -made the modest preparations befitting that pioneer period. The valise -was packed, the black mare was run in, and proudly mounting that fast, -clever hackney, I took the track to the crossing-place of the Shaw -River, singing aloud for pure joyousness of heart, like a mavis in -springtime. - -When I arrived in Port Fairy, and took up my quarters at the Merrijig -Hotel (the southern aboriginal predicate signifying 'good,' and thus -equivalent to the 'Budgeree' of the Kamilaroi), what news and marvels -were afloat! The town was full. Everybody was there or coming; also -everybody's favourite horse. All the world and his wife were 'on the -march for Rome.' Mr. James Lord had arrived from Tasmania with a draft -of hounds for John Cox of Werongurt; had also brought with him The -Caliph as a present to the same gentleman from his old friend Sir -Richard Dry. The Caliph was a hunting celebrity; I was naturally anxious -to see him. The Dunmore people were not down, but were coming of course, -with Neil Kennedy and Bob Craufurd, Fred Burchett, the Aplins, Captain -and Mrs. Baxter, the Hunters (Alick and Jimmy), George Youl, and the -Kemps, Claud Farie, and his partner Rodger—in fact, everybody, as I said -before. Old Tom, the stock-rider, had managed to trap a fine dingo. -To-morrow the hounds would throw off near Archie M'Neill's farm, across -the Moyne. There were to be races the day after, including a -steeplechase, for which Richard Rutledge was going to ride Freedom, a -well-known blood hackney. Mr. Rodger had bought the grey racing pony -Skipjack, a winner on the Melbourne turf. The ball was to be in the big -room of the Merrijig Hotel. Could imagination have devised anything more -ecstatically delightful? - -The _table d'hôte_ dinner that night was a thing to remember—a score or -two of men, none of whom had passed 'the golden prime,' while the -greater proportion had but lately entered manhood. One or two might have -been described by a cynic as beardless boys. I was the youngest squatter -in the district. I then exhibited more discretion than has always -characterised the mature individual. However, _nemo omnibus_. We had few -misgivings about the future in those days. We said to the present 'Stay, -for thou art fair,' disturbing not ourselves about autumnal tints. - -Such laughter, such jests—keen and incisive enough in all conscience! -Such horse-talk—when every man was an owner, a breeder, a connoisseur -more or less, of the noble animal; moreover, always possessed a -favourite hackney, which he held to be a combination of all the equine -virtues. The flowing bowl of the period was not disregarded—claret and -champagne were the weaknesses of the day; Dalwood and Cawarra, Yering -and Tahbilk, were all to come; even whisky had not made good its footing -in society. But for the preponderance of the 'kindly Scot' in Victoria, -the 'real Donald' would have been traditionary. However, then as now, -the clans mustered strong in the rich pastures west of Geelong. Our -host, Archie M'Neill, a stalwart, sinewy Highlander, was a horse-breeder -too, Archie's colt being a promising sapling Traveller. The old -hereditary feelings had by no means died out. A neighbour of his was -wont, when 'the maut gat abune the meal,' to formulate thus his tribal -antipathies: 'I'm Macdonald frae Glencoe! D—n the bloody Campbells of -Glenlyon!' - -Although there were necessarily differences of opinion—as will arise -even among friends on such topics at such times—we enjoyed ourselves in -all proper moderation. There was far more talking, laughing, and indeed -singing, than steady drinking. In those days it was wonderful how -musically inclined were all honest revellers. Just before the finale a -messenger came to say that 'Old Tom' had made the usual miscalculation, -and was then lodged in the Port Fairy lock-up. It was not to be endured -that the purveyor of the quarry which was to furnish our entertainment -for the morrow, should languish in a dungeon. We arose and in a body -marched to the watch-house, where any amount of bail was proffered to -the astonished constable. The cell-door being opened, the veteran came -forth, bent and humbled, looking not unlike an old dog-fox himself, as -he sought his couch unobtrusively, vowing supernatural sobriety for the -morrow. - - The morning broke—a lovely sight; - The sun flashed down on armour bright, - -wrote Hugh Ranclaud in his Marmion period. Slightly altered, this -description might have suited our array, which, owing to circumstances, -exhibited more variety and good intention than uniformity. A pink or -two, a good many black cut-aways, with a green riding-coat worn by John -Cox, the uniform of a Tasmanian hunt club. His tall figure as he reined -The Caliph, a grand half-Arab grey sixteen-hander, up to any weight over -any country, looked workman-like. Cords and tops were tolerably -plentiful, though 'butcher boots,' such as most of us affected for -ordinary stock-riding, were in the ascendant. - -One frolicsome youngster, indeed, in default of a pink, resolved to -conform as nearly as possible to the fashion of his forefathers. To this -end he possessed himself of a bright red serge shirt, such as was -occasionally donned by all sorts and conditions of men in those days of -sincere effort. This he persuaded the village tailor to fashion into the -form of a coatee, and thus arrayed, he rode proudly amid the -front-rankers, congratulating himself, with perfect correctness, upon -having added a fresh sensation to the entertainment. Fred Burchett had -two chestnut hackneys, one a neat cob named Friendship. This day he rode -the other, which he had christened Love, being, as he explained, 'very -like friendship, only nicer.' Bob Cox (Robert Clerk's brother-in-law—not -related to the Clarendon family) might have been there on Bessborough. I -am not certain whether he did not join our band of heroes later on. But, -if so, the hunt missed that day a joyous comrade, a handsome face with -bright dark eyes, never unwelcome in hall or bower; one of the boldest -yet most artistic horsemen that ever sat in saddle. Poor old Bob! I used -often to think how I should have enjoyed mounting him 'regardless,' and -pitting him against the best men with the Quorn, the Pytchley, or -wherever the unrivalled English sport in the ancestral isle still holds -sway. What nice things a Monte Cristo might do—in that and a few other -ways! - -The hounds were to throw off on the Warrnambool side of the Moyne, where -a broad flat was bounded by farms and the line of sand-dunes, which ran -parallel to the sea. A variety of jumping was ensured by this choice of -country, the farm fences being of every shade of height, breadth, and -solidity. Sound and springy was the turf. If the dingo, when turned -down, took the cross country line towards Tower Hill, he was likely to -lead us a dance, unless he found refuge in one of the wombat holes with -which the ferny slopes, breast high in bracken, abounded. - -It must have been ten o'clock or thereabouts when Mr. Lord, arrayed in -the well-worn pink, cords, tops, and hunting-cap complete, conducted the -spotted beauties across the ford of the Moyne. Within an hour all the -Port Fairy world—among which half-a-dozen riding-habits showed that the -ladies were not willing to be left out of the excitement—was gathered -around. The Australian Reynard, all-ignorant that his imported compeer -was, in after-years, to be a prize for scalp-hunters, had been liberated -previously, with a due allowance of law, and on a line which involved a -reasonable share of fencing. After a preliminary cast or two, the -leading hounds hit off the scent, and with a burst of melody which -caused more than one of us to anticipate the sensations of Mr. Jorrocks, -away went the flower of the horsemen of the western district, riding -rather jealous, it must be admitted, but not to be stopped by anything -under a six-foot stock-yard fence. - -It was a scene to be remembered. The blue sky, the green sward, sound -and springy as a cricket-ground, the limitless ocean plain, the long -resounding surge, the eager hounds, the medley of horsemen now slightly -tailing off, as the pack raced with a breast-high scent towards the -volcanic crest of Tower Hill. - -Many were the falls, various the fortunes, of those who followed hounds -that day. Every man rode as if the honour, firstly, of his station, of -the district afterwards, were centred in him personally. It was before -the Traveller days, so that the Dunmore triumvirate were mounted on -steeds that, though good of their kind and well-bred (for they always -went in for blood), were not quite up to the form of St. George and -Trackdeer, Triton or Jupiter. William Campbell rode a roan, Houndsfoot, -five years old; and Macknight, I believe, his grand old mare Die -Vernon—one of those brilliant all-round goers that you couldn't put -wrong. - -I rode my favourite black mare Tanny, the dam of Hope, Clifton, Red -Deer, and Comanchee—the first three winners in the aftertime either on -the flat or 'over the sticks.' She could both jump and gallop, as I must -show when I have time. - -I regret that I cannot supply details anent this almost prehistoric run. -I recall The Caliph sailing over everything and taking all manner of -fences, from 'chock and log' to stiff three-railers, in his stride. -Freedom would probably be running away as usual, being a horse that no -mortal man could hold for the first mile. Alick Hunter and his brother, -doubtless, were there or thereabouts; and Robert Clerk of Mummumberrich -(the M.F.H. in time to come) was forward enough with Rocket in spite of -weight over the average. It was pretty straight going. We were used to -risks by flood and field. Ordinary stock-riding was hardly safer than -this or any other run with hounds. Matters were prosperous, and -everybody was looking forward to a first-class run, when 'the devil or -some untoward saint' put it into our quarry's head to double back as -nearly as possible along the line upon which he had come. - -We had the satisfaction of taking nearly the same jumps over again, -when, lo and behold! dingo, apparently bent on self-destruction, made -across the hummocks, and charging the Pacific Ocean as if he meant to -cross over to Tasmania, swam gaily out to sea. As he reached the surf -the desperate pack raced down to the beach, where they sniffed and -circled in unwonted doubt and desperation. Eventually Reynard found the -enterprise disproportionate to his powers, and, swimming back, reached -the beach in a state of exhaustion. The hounds were whipped off, -however, and Old Tom and his bag being again called into requisition, -the sheep-killer was reserved for another and perhaps a straighter run. - -The day but half done. We had therefore leisure as we rode homeward for -a considerable amount of general chaff and criticism, which resulted, as -usual, in wagers and a match or two. - -Now my friend James Irvine of Dunmore had been riding the racing pony -Skipjack, a very perfectly-shaped grey with a square tail, such being -the mistaken fashion of that day and, I grieve to say, of the later one. -He was an acknowledged flier, and having won races at Flemington (or the -Melbourne Course as it was then called) was thought too good for -anything in the provinces. I had always considered my black mare to be -fast, but as she was wholly untried it might have been only the fond -fancy which a man has for his favourite. Still I believed in her. It -ended in my challenging the redoubtable Skipjack for a mile spin on the -following day, present riders up. - -The odds were against me, inasmuch as the mare was off grass and, -excepting on this occasion, had not seen oats for months. She was not -even shod, whereas her antagonist was, if not in training, in hard -stable condition. Like many of the best hacks of those days he had been -bred in Tasmania. He showed Arab blood, and probably owed his speed and -strength to that ancient race. Tanny, on the other hand, was a -Sydney-sider by extraction, her dam being brought over in 'Howie's mob,' -one of the earliest lots of horses driven overland. I saw them sold in a -cattle-yard, then standing at the corner of Bourke and Swanston Streets. -Mr. Purves senior afterwards occupied the cottage built there, for I -remember him showing me Banker in the stable. Dr. Campbell lived there -afterwards. A similar sale in the same spot would excite astonishment -now in any given forenoon. - -So it was an intercolonial contest. More than this, it was all Eumeralla -against the Hopkins, inasmuch as Mr. Rodger abode at Merang, while the -Dunmores and I rode home towards the setting sun from Port Fairy. Old -Tom, a veteran in the pig-skin and a judge of pace, told his friends -that 'Tanny was the divil's own mare to pull, but if the masther could -hould her the first half mile, she'd give Skipjack his work to do at the -finish.' A trifle of speculation resulted, the odds being tempting. -James Irvine was a well-known workman on the flat and a light weight. -Bets were taken accordingly, and a book or two made in a small way. When -on the morrow the entire population of the district turned out to see -the races, and when, ours being the first, we did the customary -pipe-opener, the leading artists at Goodwood or Ascot felt less pride, -possibly less desperate determination. - -Down went the flag and off went we. With much ado mastering the mare's -wild impulse to bolt, as she had done many a time before in company, I -lay well up to my friend, but allowed him to make the pace. He made it a -cracker accordingly, hoping to run me out—his obvious line with a slower -or untrained horse. But I bided my time. The mare knew me well and -gradually steadied down to the work, and when a safe distance from home -I made my effort and landed the good, game animal a winner by a neck, I -felt, amid cheers, congratulations, and smiles, as if earth had no -higher glories to offer, life no brighter joys. 'Bedad, she's a great -mare intirely,' said Old Tom as he led her away. 'I wouldn't say but -she'd win the Maiden Plate if we thrained her. There's an iligant course -at the Native Dog-Hole.' This suggestion was not followed up. Though -passionately fond of horses, I was a practical person in those days, -eschewing all connection with public racing on principle. - -There were other races, a Hack Scurry among them, then a -highly-enjoyable picnic lunch, after which the principal event of the -day, the steeplechase, was to come off. A fair hunting line had been -marked, including among others a solid 'dead-wood' fence. For this race -there were a dozen starters more or less, and great was the excitement. -The black mare and I were among them, I know—the morning's exercise not -being considered of sufficient importance to keep us out of it. - -The Caliph was thought too good for the company, and was therefore not -entered by his owner. Macknight and Bob Craufurd, Fred Burchett and I, -Neil Kennedy and Dick Rutledge, with some others of the old set, were -duly marshalled in line and started. It was on that occasion, during -some preparatory schooling, that Neil made his famous reply to Norman -M'Leod, who, himself a fine horseman and steeplechase jock, scandalised -at Neil's loose riding, thus expostulated— - -'Look here, Kennedy, why don't you lift your horse at his fence?' - -'Lift be d—d,' returned Neil in desperation; 'I've quite enough to do -_to hold on_.' - -Neil was utterly fearless, a sort of Berserker horseman, ready to ride -any sort of horse at any manner of leap, of any height, breadth, or -stiffness; but he was not famous for adherence to the pig-skin. Falls, -many or few, made no difference in his willingness to try his luck -again. If he did not break his neck, practice would make him perfect in -time. So, accordingly, Neil faced the starter on a hard puller, full of -faith in his star, and confident in future triumphs. - -The first fence was wide and high, composed of brush-timber and more or -less negotiable, so we sailed over in line in a gallant and satisfactory -way. The next was reasonable. Then came our rasper, the dead-wood fence, -a kind of wooden wall, raised to nearly five feet, and composed of logs, -stumps, and roots of trees, piled horizontally after a compact and -unyielding fashion. - -Freedom, with Dick Rutledge up, leading by a dozen lengths, flew it -without altering stride. Bob Craufurd was over next. Neil Kennedy and I -racing for a place charged it, when his horse, hitting it hard, -performed a complete somersault, balancing himself for a moment on the -broad of his back, and sending Neil flying so far ahead that there was -as little danger of his being crushed as likelihood of his being in the -race afterwards. - -The majority were fairly up at the finish: three made a creditable -struggle for second place; but Freedom, a fast two-miler, won the race -from end to end, and taking all his leaps without baulk or mistake was -never challenged. - -So ended the second day's sport. Sport indeed, was it not? How little -the faint copies of recreation, misnamed pleasure, resemble it nowadays! -As we went home the tide was in, the ford deep, with a fair swim in the -midstream, which was the reason I chose to take the short cut I suppose, -thus letting off the exuberance of youthful spirits as well as directing -certain bright eyes towards myself and the mare as we breasted the broad -water. - -The remainder of the day but sufficed to see all the horses properly -looked to, after their exciting day, in the loose-boxes or improvised -stabling which 'The Merrijig,' when put on its metal, was enabled to -supply; afterwards a dinner, which, if the cooking was not quite equal -to that of the 'Trois Frères Provencaux' or the Café Riche, was more -thoroughly enjoyed. Lastly came the needful preparation for the ball. -The ladies who had come into town specially for the affair were -accommodated at Mr. Rutledge's hospitable mansion or other private -houses. This was just as well, as the modified communism which extended -to shirt collars, ties, boots and shoes, indeed to all wearing apparel -whatever, involved so much rushing in and out of rooms that awkward -_contretemps_ must inevitably have occurred. - -The music was that of a piano—a really good one—lent for the occasion, -and the new dining-hall of the hotel, then constructed by way of -addition, properly draped and lighted, made a commodious and effective -ballroom. - -Would that I could have photographed the costumes displayed that -evening—among us men of course. Ladies always manage to be becomingly -arrayed under whatever contradictory circumstances. It was not so easy -in our stage of civilisation—recently emerged from the pioneer epoch—to -provide irreproachable raiment. Few possessed the accredited articles; -fewer still bore them about when travelling. - -I can hear the waltz now, and see the lady who played, as with one rapt -glance I took in the situation on entering the room, for I had my -toilette troubles to overcome, and was a trifle late. What did we dance -in those days, more than fifty years agone? The _trois temps_ and hop -waltzes, the galop, quadrilles, lancers; I think there must have been -reels, Scots being in the majority. But no polka, no _deux temps_ or -'military' waltz, no Highland or other schottische, certainly no -Washington Post. That sounds a tame programme, doesn't it? Still we -danced and talked, nay, even flirted, very much as people do nowadays, -and enjoyed ourselves generally, more, far more, than the comparatively -languid moderns. It must have looked something like a hunt ball, though -a slightly unconventional one, inasmuch as those who were conscious of -correct riding toggery elected to sport it. Every variety of rig, in -coats, shirts, collars and ties, boots and shoes, from tops to feminine -stuff-boots (and not bad things on a pinch), adorned the main body. The -supper was welcomed as the crowning glory of the evening. Healths were -proposed, speeches were made, dancing was resumed with additional -spirit, and daylight found us still unsated—ready, indeed, to begin the -programme _da capo_. Prudence and the counsels of the aged, as -represented by the infrequent paterfamilias, however prevailed, and the -patriotic melody having sounded, there was an end to joy unconfined for -the present. Everything had been a triumphant success. No awkwardness of -any sort had occurred, if we may except an impromptu _tableau vivant_—a -pretty housemaid fleeing Ariadne-like into the ladies' dressing-room, -closely pursued by an enterprising youngster, who did not discover, -until too late, the awful presence which he had invaded. A wrathful -senior declined to see the classic appositeness of the incident, and -muttered threats of vengeance dire; but upon Bacchus being adroitly -suggested to be in fault, as of old, he was gradually appeased. And so -with laugh and jest, and many a pleasant memory to cherish, we fared -homewards next day from the First Port Fairy Hunt. - - - - - BENDEMEER - - - That bower and its music I never forget, - But oft when alone, in the bloom of the year, - I think—Is the nightingale singing there yet? - Do the roses still bloom by the calm Bendemeer? - -The æsthetic pioneer who bestowed this romantic name upon the New -England village between Tamworth and Uralla probably realised a hazy -similarity. Yet roses must have been few and far between, eminently -suitable as are soil and climate; and the nightingale awaits the -millennium of acclimatisers. The sparrow—wastrel of Europe that he -is—doth first appear. The clear stream of the Macdonald, winding through -the green hill-encircled valley, renders the comparison faintly -apposite. On the whole, the name of Bendemeer will sound as well to our -federal successors as Curra-wohbo-lah or Murra-munga-myne; and if it -sets young Australia to reading _Lalla Rookh_, it may act as a -counterpoise to overmuch devotion to wool and horse-racing—may even tend -to the cult which _emollit mores_. - -These slight incongruities notwithstanding, I would counsel any -Australian Beckford, in want of a site for the antipodean Fonthill, to -realise the poet's dream in the vale of Bendemeer (Great Northern -Railway line, New South Wales), and so immortalise himself in the minds -of generations of grateful compatriots. - -As I stand in front of the little hostelry in the sweet moonrise of this -summer night and gaze around, my heart sympathises with the unknown -sentimental sponsor. I feel constrained to admit that he had the true -poetic insight, piercing the measureless spaces of the future— - - Far as human eye can see. - -It is the last month of the year, in the hour for a 'midsummer night's -dream' (antipodean); the fervent noonday glare has given place to the -fresh, delicious temperature which in this elevated region succeeds -sunset; the heavens are cloudless. As the moon's orb is slowly lifted, -the grand mountain-chain which lies beyond the head waters of the river -shows clearly defined in majestic gloom and ebon shades. - -On the hills which enclose this fair green valley, each tree-stem, -bough, and frond is traced with pre-Raphaelite distinctness. Fronting -the inn, on the river-terrace, hang the pendent branches of an aged -willow-tree, the umbrageous spread of which has caused its utilisation -as a shade for the horses of customers and wayfarers. A round dozen of -these have just been released from durance, as their owners, warned of -the closing hour, ride off into the night. The equestrian habit -principally differentiates the tavern of the new country from that of -the old. Otherwise, in the matter of civility, cleanliness, and -quietude, this particular inn and some others I affect in my rambles -closely resemble the snug roadside retreats of Old England. - -As I pace slowly over the thick green sward which carpets the -river-meadow, the thought pursues me of what changes the future Lord -of Bendemeer would find requisite. Aided by the Genius of Capital, -they could not be wholly impracticable. And what a delicious Palace of -Summer Delights, a charmed refuge from the world's woe and the -clamorous chatter of society, might he rear amidst these cloistered -shades! Important alterations, not in accordance with latter-day -legislation, would be first effected. The acquisition of the freehold -for leagues around, the disestablishment of stores, telegraph-and -post-offices—pernicious contrivances these last for bringing unrest -into remotest solitudes; the closing of schools and churches; the -abrogation of the utilities; the suppression of trade; the exile of -industry; I include with regret the old-fashioned, reposeful hostelry. -Happy thought! It would probably be spared until the army of workmen -required for the erection of the palace had been disbanded; as also, -for similar reasons, the police-barrack which dominates the district, -whence issues the man-at-arms of the period, 'native and to the manner -born,' but soldierly and erect of bearing—a sleuth-hound in pursuit of -horse-thieves and highwaymen, mounted and accoutred proper upon the -good steed which he alone can rein. - -The railway-line has been averted by good genii or through the _laissez -aller_ tone of thought which characterises the inhabitants of the vale. -It clangs and thunders through a gorge on the head waters of the river, -thus avoiding desecration by scrambling tourists and irreverent sons of -commerce; but a huge, white, staring wooden bridge, the financial goal -and triumph of the local tradesfolk, disfigures the rippling moonlit -water. At a wave of the magic wand it disappears. A fairy-like structure -arises in its place, delicate with marble tracery of pillars and arches, -where the elves may flit love-whispering through the long sweet nights, -may beckon to the Lorelei as she combs her tresses and warbles the -fateful song on the rock which guards the midstream above the shimmering -whirlpool. - -The passes are guarded; the river-course on either side securely -barricaded against the conditional purchaser and the drover—sole -survivors they of the raider and moss-trooper, which a too considerate -civilisation permits. Deer alone are permitted to crop the herbage of -the park-like slopes; under the heavy shadows of the mountain, the -leaping trout and lordly salmon, the ancient carp with silver-gleaming -sides, would flash through stream and pool (this last no visionary -image) as the shadows lengthened and the twilight stole tremulously -forward. When the day was done, on such a full-orbed night as this, 'the -harp, the lute, the viol's cry' should awaken the echoes as a most fair -company (for would not all gallant knights and _gracieuses_, dames and -damsels—whether summoned from afar or dwelling near at hand—with -attendant poets and troubadours, be free of right to the enchanted -vale?) flee the hours with song and dance till bright Cynthia paled at -the approaching dawn, or, wandering through cedarn alleys and -rose-thickets, listen to the nightingale's song as it blended with the -murmur of silver-plashing fountains. The gnomes that dwell in the -mountain passes, where they pile undreamed-of heaps of ore, steal forth -to watch the enchanted revels. The river elves and fays float through -mazy measures in fairy rings, or recline, 'neath starry fragrant -blossoms, on rose-leaf couches. Even the unseen genius of the Austral -wild—no malign, amorphous terror, but a benignant sylvan deity—might -peer through the forest leaves and smile wonderingly at the fantasies of -the 'coming race.' - -Hark! Is that the grey owl? With strange, unmelodious cry he stirs the -stillness. I turn to watch him, as he swims the night air with moveless -wing—dropping, like the emissary of an evil witch, on the willow branch -between me and the moon. Bird of ill omen, thou hast shattered my dream! -The Palace has disappeared, the lutes are silent, the fair company -dispersed; the nightingale, that sang of 'love, and love's sharp woe,' -is mute for another century. Only the faint plash of the river, rippling -over its sand-bars; only the mountain shadows beneath the waning, -gibbous moon; only the unbroken silence of the Austral woodland, -brooding, majestic, as of one watching through the eternities for the -birth of a nation. 'The light that never was on sea or land' fades -rapidly, and with the sigh that greets the evanishing of the undersoul's -fair fantasies I seek my couch. - - * * * * * - -An early _réveillé_ comes Duty, with reason-compelling Circumstance; a -deputation demanding answers to questions, of which due notice has been -given. 'Enterprises of great pith and moment are imminent.' We must to -horse and away, not betaking ourselves to pilgrim's staff, as is -customary with us; time permits not. What bard—was it the sweet singer -of a Brisbane Reverie, 'The Complaint of the Doves,' the laureate of -Royalty (black), the minstrel of the desert steed, that in a lighter -hour proclaimed— - - For I am bound to Stanthorpe town, - And time with me is tin? - -We are not journeying quite so far as the stanniferous stronghold; yet -is our errand not unconnected with the metal that the Silures and -Phœnicians delved for in Cornwall long before Julius Cæsar, without -reference to the susceptibilities of king, kaiser, or chancellor, -established his protectorate of Britain. - -The stern Roman, the world's master, has vanished from among the tribes -of men. His descendant, an ignoble _fainéant_, a stolid peasant, or a -hired model, sells the right to mould the heroic form which has survived -the heroic soul. The wide-ranging, sea-roving Anglo-Saxon, descendant of -the fiercer races, has succeeded to his heritage of universal empire. - -But can it be that the mother of nations is sinking into senile -decrepitude, with selfish querulousness evading responsibility, only to -lapse into deserved decay of power, and well-merited insignificance in -the council halls of the world? - - Oh for one hour of Wallace wight, - Or well-skilled Bruce to rule the fight! - -sang Scotland's bard, in the lament for the fortunes of the field which -sealed his country's fate. May not the modern Briton make the -application, and in mingled wrath and despair regret the lost leader, -who trod firmly, if warily, who drifted not, irresolutely weak, from -peril to disasters, and delayed not the call to arms until the foe was -at the gate of the citadel?[2] - -Footnote 2: - - Written in 1884. - -But this savours of the digressive. Where are we? Whither is this -plaguey, many-sided, chiefly unnecessary, or wholly superfluous, mental -apparatus, as some hold (being rarely serviceable in the muck-rake or -money-storing business), leading us? To fairyland but yesternight; anon -to Albion, Germany, Rome, amid Liberal Ministers even, to their Austral -countrymen all too illiberal, stepfatherly, stern, repressive. Prose and -the present to the rescue! So we fare on, the trooper and I, along the -course of the Macdonald, in the fresh purity of this New England summer -morn. How blithe and gladsome are all things! Hard is it to believe that -disease, death, and unforeseen disaster can exist in so fair a world! -The river ripples merrily onward, or sleeps in deep pools under -o'erhanging oaks, whence the shy wild-duck floats out with dusky brood, -or the heron rises from the reedy marge and sweeps along the winding -stream. Masses of granite overhang the water. The everlasting hills rear -themselves, scarped and terraced, at dizzy altitudes on either side. The -late rains have lent a velvet, emerald tinge to the thick-growing matted -sward. Marguerites, dandelions, white and yellow immortelles, the -crimson bunches of hakea, fringed violets, with bright purple masses of -swainsonia, diversify mead and upland. Tiny rills and springheads show a -well-watered country—'a land that drinks the rain of Heaven at will.' -Ever and anon the willow, with foliage of vivid tender green, contrasts -with the sombre filaments of the river oak. - -My companion is an active, intelligent young fellow—a native-born -Australian, whose fair hair and steadfast grey-blue eyes show that the -Anglo-Saxon type is not likely to alter materially in Southern Britain. - -He and his horse are well suited—the latter a well-bred bay, fast at a -finish, and ready to stay for ever. He has done a hundred miles on end -before now, and been ridden twenty hours out of the twenty-four. In more -than one skirmish, when revolvers were out, he has proved steady under -fire, and is the very model, in appearance, in condition, and pace, of -what a charger should be in a troop of Irregular Horse. As he stretches -along with smooth, fast, easy stride, he looks as quiet as a lamb, and -what superficial critics call 'properly broken in.' None the less will -he refuse to let a stranger bridle, much less ride him; he would in such -case snort and plunge like an unbacked colt. - -I have had no experience of the metropolitan police, against whom it is -occasionally the wont of a section of the press to say hard things. -These may be true or false, for what I know, though I am disposed to -believe the latter. But for the last twenty years I have had much -knowledge of the mounted portion of the New South Wales force in the -towns and districts of the interior, and I willingly record my -testimony—not being in official relations with them at present—that a -more efficient, well-disciplined, well-behaved body of men—smart, -serviceable, and self-respecting—does not exist in any part of the -world. In old days they were sometimes at a disadvantage against -outlaws, who could ride and track like Comanchee Indians, the police -being chiefly of British birth and rearing. But the mounted troopers are -now largely recruited from natives of the colony, or men who have lived -here from their youth. In one of these, as in my guide of to-day, the -cattle-thief or other criminal has a pursuer to contend with as well -mounted as himself, and fully his match in all the arcana of bushcraft. - -But good as the white Australian may be at following a track, his sable -compatriot is a degree better. A tamed preadamite, either borrowed for -the occasion from a squatter, or attached by pay and cast-off uniform to -a police-barrack, makes a matchless sleuth-hound. Such a one, I am told, -helped to run down a notorious party of horse-thieves in these very -mountains, following with astonishing accuracy the marauders, who -travelled _only by night_, using every artifice as well to blind tracks -and divert pursuers. - -We cross the river once more, and note an island, upon which in -floodtime a leading pastoral proprietor was washed down and nearly -drowned. Another mile discovers a picturesquely-situated homestead, -overlooking the river, where, winding round a granite promontory, it -turns westward on its way to the great plain beyond the 'divide.' The -roses proclaim their vicinity to the famed Bendemeer, the decomposed -granite having a special chemical affinity; while the violets, large of -leaf and profuse of bloom, seem as if prepared to found a new variety, -so widely do they differ from the ordinary floweret. - -For half a century or more has the venerable pioneer dwelt hard by the -river-brim, where now, handsomely lodged, garden-surrounded, he -dispenses hospitality, with all the concomitants of successful pastoral -life around him, save and excepting only the wife and bairns, the -stalwart sons and bright-eyed daughters, with which so worthy and -energetic a colonist should have strengthened the State. But 'non cuivis -contingit adire Corinthum'; it is not every man's lot thus to wind up -life's tale. And it may be conceded that he who at an advanced age, -retaining every faculty unimpaired, is permitted to view the work of his -hands, conducted from the stage of the untamed wild to smiling -prosperity, who can look forward cheerfully to end his days among a -population entirely composed of friends and well-wishers, has secured a -large proportion of the good which is permissible to mortal man. - -Onward, still onward, ride we, for many a mile must be passed ere -sunset. Onward through rugged defiles and rock-strewn passes, over which -the sure-footed steeds are constrained to clamber like chamois. Indeed -we are nearly blocked in consequence of adopting one very tempting -'cut,'—by the way, in bush parlance, the old English predicate has been -eliminated, and with reason; one does not speak of a 'long cut,'—for we -find ourselves in the centre of a rock labyrinth locally termed a -'gaol.' The path, however, amid the huge boulders eventually conducts us -to a grand granite-floored terrace, apparently constructed by one of the -Kings of Bashan. Here we have a wide, extended view of the varied -landscape, 'valley and mountain and woodland,' but it does not otherwise -serve our purpose. - -Speedily recovering lost ground, we strike the creek and the tin mines -thereon located, which had been the cause of the exploration. The -sanguine, undaunted prospectors are as usual delving and ditching, -felling the forest, constructing dams, and generally committing assault -and robbery upon patient mother Hertha. - -We see the stream tin being washed out everywhere, like dark-coloured -pebbly gravel. We note where the same rivulet has been formerly ravaged -by the wandering mining hordes. We thread the gorges which lead into a -rock-walled alpine valley, not inaptly named the 'Giant's Den,' and -there meet with tin—more tin—_toujours_ tin. For this fastness of the -Titans has been turned into the Grand United Sluicing Company—no -liability, let us say—and for the ten thousandth time, more or less, we -admire the indomitable pluck and sanguine confidence of the miner -proper. Here steam engines, pumping machinery, iron piping by the mile, -dams, houses, men and material, are all found, in different stages of -adaptation to an end. Evidently the shareholders, some of whom are -practical men of transcolonial experience, have faith in the venture. -The energetic Victorian captain beguiles us into a long, hot, pedestrian -tour of inspection. He, always in advance, shovel on shoulder, prospects -from time to time, and 'pans out,' with invariable success, the -stanniferous gravel. Sooth to say, we have reached at length the mystic -region where there is no 'want of tin.' It occurs everywhere in -abundance—in new ground, in old workings, in mullock, in trenches, in -each and every conceivable place. At the end of our bit of training, -which mentally places us on a footing with Weston and other 'peds' of -fame, we express our opinion that, with a steady supply of water for -ground-sluicing, the Company should pay handsome dividends for years to -come. The energetic captain, 'bred and born in a briar patch,' that is, -on a goldfield, so that he is a 'legitimate miner' in every sense of the -word, smiles appreciatively. We thankfully resume the saddle, and bid -farewell to the 'Giant's Den.' 'It may be for years; it may be for -ever.' - - - - - SPORT IN AUSTRALIA - - -Very early in a land peopled by the roving Englishman did sport of one -kind or another begin to put forth those shoots which have since so -grown and burgeoned. For some years there must have been so few horses, -that racing contests were difficult if not impossible. The first cattle -were herded without horses, some of the pedestrian stockmen acquiring -thereby extraordinary speed of foot. It was customary for early -Australians to make longish journeys on foot, and legends are yet rife -in colonial families as to the distances performed then by the -seniors—tales which strike with astonishment their descendants, who -rarely walk, much less run. - -We doubt not, however, that as soon as the colts and fillies began to -grow up, their young riders, with or without leave, commenced to -ascertain their relative speed. - -Parramatta has, it is said, the honour of holding the first race meeting -in 1810, the example being followed by the officers of the 73rd -Regiment, then in Sydney, who utilised the reserve now known as Hyde -Park for the purpose. From that time annual races commenced to be held -there. The country towns, as they arose, were only too eager to follow -the example of the metropolis. Favourites of the turf acquired fame -which was trumpeted abroad through the restricted sporting circles of -the day. - -Sir John Jamison's Bennelong—named after a well-known aboriginal—was one -of the early racing celebrities. He ran against Mr. Lawson's Spring Gun -in 1829 for a heavy wager as they went then; and the old-world system of -heats finishing up Spring Gun, he won easily. He carried off the -principal turf events in Parramatta in 1832. In the same year Mr. H. -Bayley's imported colt, Whisker, won the great races at the Hawkesbury -meeting. Trotting was not entirely overlooked. It appears that a Mr. -Potter's horse trotted twelve miles within the hour for a bet of £30, -winning by fifteen seconds. - -In May 1834 the Sydney Subscription Races were held on the New Course, -Botany Road, for the first time. This course was new as compared with -Hyde Park, but came to be called 'the old Sandy Course,' in relation to -Homebush, the next established convincing-ground. At this meeting, Mr. -C. Smith's Chester, a son of Bay Camerton, won the Cup; Whisker the -Ladies' Purse. This grand horse won the Town Plate of £50; also the -Ladies' Purse, £25, again beating Chester. Whisker, for whom £1400 had -been offered three days previously, died within the week. I was present -at that same old Sandy Course in the autumn of 1835, when Chester beat -his half-brother Traveller—the latter fated to belong to my old friend -and neighbour, Charles Macknight, at Dunmore, Victoria, in years to -come. The well-known Emigrant mare, Lady Godiva, ran at the same -meeting, and won her race for the Ladies' Purse, containing the modest -sum of £30. The Town Plate was £50. - -The celebrated horse Jorrocks, 'clarum et venerabile nomen' in turf -annals, belonged to that period. A son of Whisker from Lady Emily -(imported), he inherited some of the best racing-blood in the world; the -dry air and nutritive pasturage of his native land did the rest. A horse -of astonishing speed, stoutness, and courage, his record covers a longer -list of victories than that of any other Australian racehorse. In those -days of three-mile heats, he might not win the first, but rarely lost -the succeeding ones. It used to be said that when the 'native' lads -began to cheer, Jorrocks seemed to comprehend the situation, and would -win on the post or die in the attempt. I saw him once, a retired -veteran, and can never forget his shape, almost symmetrically perfect. A -long forehand, with light, game head and full eye, grand sloping -shoulders, cask-like back-rib, muscular quarter and Arab croupe, legs -like iron, as indeed they needed to have been; a long, low horse, -scarcely exceeding fifteen hands, I should say, in height—such was -Jorrocks. - -Intercolonial races began in 1849. Without railways there was a -difficulty in transporting horses; but it was overcome. Petrel, the -property of Mr. Colin Campbell, a popular Victorian squatter, ran a -great race on the Melbourne Course with Mr. Austin's Bessie Bedlam, a -beautiful daughter of Cornborough. - - Dark brown, with tan muzzle. - -Gordon's description might have been written for her. She was, to my -thinking, the handsomest mare ever stripped on an Australian course. -Petrel won, and Mr. Campbell gave a ball at the Prince of Wales' Hotel -in Melbourne on the strength of his winnings, at which I was a guest—and -a very good ball it was. The same year saw Emerald and Tally-ho (from -New South Wales), Coronet and Hollyoake (of Tasmania), beaten by the -Victorian horse Bunyip, a big powerful bay. He won the Town Plate, -Publicans' Purse, and Ladies' Purse at the same meeting; and starting -for fourteen principal races that season, won them all—a truly -phenomenal animal. - -By this time the gold 'boom of booms' had occurred. There were no more -£50 Town Plates. In 1856 Alice Hawthorn won £1000 for Mr. Chirnside, -beating Mr. Warby's Cardinal Wiseman; in her turn losing the three-mile -race with Veno—an intercolonial duel—for £2000. In 1859 I saw Flying -Buck win the Champion Melbourne Sweepstakes for £1000, eighteen -starters, and may have heard the late Mr. Goldsborough offer a thousand -to thirty against him after the start, and Roger Kelsall call out -'taken.' - -The pageant of Flemington on Cup day was yet a visionary forecast. Mr. -Bagot had not appeared above the horizon. First King, Briseis, Archer, -and Glencoe—much less Carbine and Trenton—were in the dimmest futurity. -I was to see Adam Lindsay Gordon win the steeplechase of '69 upon -Viking, with Babbler half a length behind. Glencoe the same year bore -the coveted Cup trophy to New South Wales. - -What a wondrous change had taken place in a few short years between the -primitive racing and rude surroundings of the old Botany Course and the -shaven lawns, the flower-beds, the asphalt walks, the immense -grand-stands, the order, comfort, and perfect organisation of Randwick -and Flemington—exceeding indeed, in these respects, the race-courses of -the old country! What a difference in the size and quality of the fields -of running horses, in the amount of money wagered, in the multitude that -attends, in the facilities of rail and road by which the tens of -thousands of spectators are safely, comfortably disposed of in transit! - -In these and other astounding developments of the era we cannot but mark -the transition stage from a colony to a nation, from a collection of -humble towns and hamlets to a cluster of cities commencing to take rank -with the world's important centres. An Anglo-Saxon dominion unmatched, -for the period of its existence, in wealth and culture, population and -trade, in progress in all that constitutes true, steadfast, abiding -civilisation. - -With respect to sport other than horse-racing, the men who had left -'Merrie England' so far away across the Southern main, conscious that in -many cases they had looked their last upon that earthly paradise of the -angler, the huntsman, the fowler, and the deer-stalker, began to cast -about for substitutes and compromises. Hares and rabbits there were none -(did we catch a cheer, or was it a groan?); but the active marsupials -which then overspread the land afforded reasonable coursing, and led to -the formation of a breed of greyhounds, stronger, fiercer, in some -instances hardly less fleet, than those of the old country. Reynard was -still absent, but Brer Dingo was fast across the open, and a good -stayer, while his insatiable appetite for mutton and poultry rendered -him beyond a doubt the fox's natural successor. Even as a 'bagman' he -was fairly serviceable. - -Thus at an early date in Tasmania, a land of farms and small enclosures, -and later on in Sydney, the old-world rural recreation, with pinks and -tops, horn and hound, huntsman and whipper-in, 'accoutred proper,' was -welcomed and supported. In Victoria there are now home-grown foxes in -abundance, with hares, and, alas, rabbits in still greater proportion -for them to subsist upon; while as to the fields, no straighter goers -are to be found in Christendom—_moi qui parle_—than our young -Australians, men and maidens, married or single—let the stiff -three-railers of Petersham and Ballarat, Geelong and Rooty-hill testify; -no better horses—fast, well-bred, clever, and up to weight. It seems -hard that distance, expense, and long voyage should stand in the way of -members of Australian hunt clubs trying their own and their steeds' -mettle in 'the Shires.' - -Now for the gun. Wild-fowling has obtained always on the inland lakes -and rivers, on marsh and lagoons, with quail and snipe, more or less, -still extant; yet it must be confessed that it has chiefly partaken of -the nature of 'pot-hunting.' In marshy localities snipe are abundant in -the season—I have known a bag made of twenty-five couple in Squattlesea -Mere in old days; but the quail, the brown variety of which more nearly -resembles the partridge, has a way of disappearing from haunts too much -disturbed. Unlike the partridge, it will not return to the same -cornfields year after year. The native pheasant is a shy bird, for the -most part inhabiting the thickets of the interior and the forests of the -main range—localities where sport can hardly be carried out under proper -conditions. The wild turkey is a grand bird, both as to size and -flavour, but wary and a dweller on plains. He is only to be approached -by stratagem. - -In New South Wales, Victoria, and Tasmania, the partridge and pheasant, -though often imported—my old friend Mr. Yaldwyn brought out both to his -station near Macedon early in the 'forties'—have never thriven in the -bush proper. Edible seeds and berries are scarce, while natural enemies -are plentiful. In New Zealand, a virgin Britannia of the South, the -converse obtains. There are in that priceless possession, obtained by -pluck and luck (before we got into the habit of advertising for the -colonisation of our territory by foreigners), no eagles, no crows, no -dingoes or dasyures. Partridges or pheasants turned loose in the woods -of the North Island multiply apace, and a tremendous bag of the former -was made to my knowledge by a Sydney proprietor on a visit there, -walking in breast-high fern, but a few years since. As to introduced -game, a herd of red deer, led by a 'stag of ten,' may be seen on the -grassy slopes of Laverton, within easy reach of Melbourne, and near -enough for an occasional hunt, while fallow deer are plentiful, both -there and in other Australian localities. Among the farms they have -grown to be somewhat of a nuisance indeed; hence a trifle of justifiable -poaching no doubt occasionally takes place. In a general way no great -harm has been done by the introduction of European game. Hares have -increased amazingly, while greyhounds of stainless pedigree, with -coursing matches to suit all comers, are plentiful in every country -district. - -But the 'werry important and particlar' exception to this comfortable -doctrine has been the rabbit. Alack! and alack! What evil genius, -hostile to the good South Land, prompted the importation of that fiend -in a fur-jacket? 'Brer Rabbit' has amply revenged upon us the sufferings -of his kind in bygone ages, and left a balance yet unpaid. What have we -spent on him? What tens of thousands of pounds sterling are yet to be -disbursed by suffering squatters, o'erburdened tax-payers, even by the -humble 'retrenched' civil servant, against whom appears to be the hand -of every man in the hour of financial need! - -But the subject is too painful. Far removed from any description of -sport. Sport? Ha! ha! Death, indeed, is the closer designation. However -we may have been deceived as to certain results 'on this behalf,' let us -not forget that our enemy is, like most of his congeners, excellent -eating—good alike on the table of the poor man and the rich. In time, as -population advances and smaller enclosures become necessary, his doom of -extermination will be fulfilled, while the more harmless ministers of -sport will be protected and encouraged. - -About cricket it seems unnecessary to dilate. It has been taught -sedulously to the Australian boy, by precept and example. No -denominational bias has hindered _that_ lesson being learned -thoroughly—a fair argument, by the way, supposing the national -reputation and existence to depend solely upon cricket, in favour of the -secular system. How all our boys love it! Did I not see a youngster, of -say seven or eight, yesterday, leading two small brothers, with one cry -of 'Cricket match!' dash up to the engraving of the Gentlemen of England -and 'Our Boys' in London, on the cricket-ground, now on view in a -bookseller's window in George Street? How they gloated over it! - -Many a good match have I seen in the old Hyde Park, when the Sydney -College boys had a right of occupation there for a special purpose. His -Honour Judge Forbes, then a crack bowler at one wicket, with Mr. William -Roberts senior performing the part of the historic veteran of Dingley -Dell with the bat. William Still looking out for a catch, George Hill or -Geoffrey Eager, or Moule or Hovenden Hely, alert at cover-point or slip, -mid-wicket or long-stop. - -Ah me! those days have gone, and how many of those who then ran and -shouted in all the glee of youthful spirits and health! Those who remain -are growing old, if not in the 'serious and yellow' stage, and the young -ones are coming on, doubtless to fill their places, 'in arms, in arts, -in song.' When Hugh Hamon Massie made that 206 score for the Australian -team against Oxford, our British cousins were probably of the same -opinion. His triumph on that occasion was by no means a solitary one, -and successive teams have demonstrated that in Australians our kin -beyond sea will always find foemen worthy of their steel. Long may the -friendly rivalry last; and in the deadlier contests to come—as surely -they _must_ come—may they always stand, like Highlanders, 'shouther to -shouther.'[3] - -Footnote 3: - - Written in 1885. A prophecy fulfilled in February 1900. - -Next to the outside of a horse—even, perhaps, as regards the coast -towns, before that instinctively natural position—your true Australian -is most at home in a boat. Those who watch the appearance of Sydney -Harbour on a holiday must come to the conclusion that as a nursery for -seamen it is excelled by few sea-boards in the world. Gay is the -sea-lake with every kind of sailing craft, from the fifty-ton yacht, -brand new and not launched under a cost of £2000 or £3000, to the canvas -dingy flying along, bows under, with a big sail, and the youthful crew -perched like seagulls on the weather gunwale. When a capsize occurs, -which with these craft is a matter 'quite frequent,' they dive like a -brood of wild-ducks, as they right their frail craft, and are soon -bowling along as reckless as ever. - -With such aquatic habits, small wonder if we have bred or trained the -men who have beaten with the sculls not only old England but the -world—ay, the world!—at this particular sport. Not only is it now -demonstrated that we possess equal skill in all the manlier -exercises—the boast of the island Briton, and at which he was long held -to be unrivalled—but that in strength, stature, and the desperate -courage which prolongs the contest to the last dangerous degree of -exhaustion and afterwards, our men, Australian-born or reared, are equal -to the best Briton that ever trod a plank, or to the best transatlantic -colonist, himself superior in that special section of sport to his -British kinsmen. - -All Sydney boys, of whatever degree, take naturally to the boat. And -when I saw a young friend but the other day, in a Masaniello rig, expand -his broad chest and glide into stroke with one stretch of his bronzed -muscular arms, I hummed instinctively as I watched the retreating skiff, -'Rule Britannia, Britannia rules the waves.' - -The 'incomplete angler' necessarily commenced by deep-line fishing in -Botany Bay, where he discovered the highly-edible schnapper, that -moderately-boned fish of comfortable size and toothsome flavour. To him -all honour therefor. Also the rock and other cod-fish, whiting, bream, -mullet, trumpeter, flounder, sole, and many others (not forgetting -yellow-tail for bait)—all these for sea-fish are not to be surpassed. It -was some years before the lordly Murray Cod was handled with the help of -rod and line, by reason of the Murray, our Australian Mississippi, not -being then discovered. - -Since then we have made piscatorial advance, and doubtless shall make -more. If we have not finally settled the question as to the -acclimatisation of _Salmo ferox_ in Tasmania, we have the best of all -evidences of the existence of trout of exceptional size in Australian -waters. Fly-fishing is still in its infancy, though the _thymallus_ of -the Yarra Falls rises eagerly, and gives good sport. Trout and herring -furnish many an hour's enjoyment to the disciple of Izaak Walton in -Tasmania. Huge lake-trout are to be found in the erstwhile eel-tenanted -deeps of New Zealand. A salmo-appearing fish, weight 27 lbs., was killed -in Tasmania in 1893. - -In time—only give us time—and rest assured, my Australian brethren and -English kinsfolk, that we shall have such sport in the South Land -generally as shall do no discredit to our race—the best all-round -sportsmen in the world. And so, fully aware that this is a bald and -incomplete sketch of the rise and progress of sport in Australia, but -promising to do better (if spared) at the next Centennial, and wishing -us all good fun and fortune at this, one Australian hunter's horn must -cease 'blowing' and sound the recall. - - - - - OLD STOCK-RIDERS - - -So poor old 'Flash Jack' is dead, says the _Port Fairy Gazette_, drowned -in a creek—a stock-rider's not unfitting end. We remember him, young, -_debonair_, tall, sinewy and active, with longish, curling brown locks -of which he was rather proud, as also of the cabbage-tree hat of the -period. But every one seems to be old nowadays except a crowd of juniors -so painfully young that one wonders they are permitted to take life -seriously. His sobriquet was acquired more through the ebullitions of a -harmless vanity than from any of the offensive qualities which the -well-worn colonial adjective is wont to imply. There was a certain -amount of 'blow' about Jack, doubtless, but never in undue proportion to -his attainments, which, as a stock-rider, horse-breaker, and mailman, -were admitted to be creditable. His introduction to the Port Fairy -district was through the Messrs. Carmichael, while before taking service -with them he had reached Melbourne from England in the _Eagle_, Captain -Buckley—both ship and commander favourably known in the early days. - -A rumour prevailed that Jack was the scion of a good family; had been -sent to sea as a midshipman, possibly to cure the malady of 'wildness,' -for which a voyage to or residence in Australia is (erroneously) held to -be a specific. It did not answer in Jack's case, for he quitted his -ship, 'taking to the bush' (in a restricted sense), and never afterwards -abandoning it. Uncommunicative about such matters generally, he threw -out hints from time to time that he was not in the position for which -his early associations had prepared him. - -'My name's not Crickmere, Mas'r Rolf,' he said to me once, as we were -riding through the Eumeralla marshes. (He always adopted the fiction -that he was an old retainer of our family.) '_Far from it._' But after -this dark saying he relapsed into his usual reserve on the subject and -enlightened me no further. One trait of character which was in keeping -with his presumed social past he was well known to possess. - -'You seem mighty independent, my man,' said an employer to him on one -occasion. - -'Yes,' replied Jack proudly, 'and I can uphold it.' - -He was in my service before and after 'the gold' as stock-rider, -horse-breaker, and road-hand, both at Port Fairy and Lake Boga. Not the -man to save his wages; unlike many of his contemporaries, who are now -men of substance, Jack varied but little in his non-possession of the -world's goods. But there were many homesteads in his old district where -he was always sure of a welcome, a glass of grog, and a week's lodgings, -so that when out of employment he was never in any great straits. - -With one influential class of the community he was especially -acceptable, and a favourite to the last. He had a natural 'Hans the -boatman' faculty for amusing children, whom he delighted by making -miniature stockwhips and other bush requisites, while they never tired -of listening to his wondrous tales of flood and field. - -In the matter of stockwhip-making he was a second 'Nangus Jack,' and, -moreover, an extraordinary performer with that weapon in the saddle. I -have seen him cantering along with a steady stock-horse, standing in the -saddle and cracking a brace of stockwhips, one in either hand—a feat -which any young gentleman is free to try if he wishes to ascertain if it -be easy or otherwise. He had been through the rougher experiences of -bush life, and mentioned casually, once, having been speared by blacks -in Gippsland. The company being disposed to treat the statement as -'Jack's yarn,' he gave ocular proof by exhibiting a cicatrice, far from -trifling in dimensions, where the jagged spear-point had been cut out -above his hip-bone. - -He was a reliable horse-breaker, for several reasons. Being long and -loose of frame, he rode a good deal 'all over his horse'—unlike some -breakers, who are so still and noiseless in their method that any -unwonted cheerfulness of manner is apt to startle their pupils into -'propping,' But as Jack on his excursions was always singing, shouting, -and whistling; leaning half out of his saddle to greet a friend, or -leaving his colts tied up at a public-house; by the time he had done -with them they were safe for anybody, and would be difficult to alarm or -astonish on account of these varied experiences. - -As a road-hand Jack was quite in his element, and a decided acquisition -to any overlanding party. He would have been invaluable in South Africa. -Always in good humour, he kept every one alive during the monotonous -days of driving and dreary nights of watching with his songs and -stories, his 'quips and quiddities.' He was also of signal service to -the commissariat, making frequent _reconnaissances_ where the country -was inhabited, and returning with new-laid eggs, butter, and other -delicacies, out of which he had wheedled the farmers' wives or -daughters. - -At one time or other Jack had been in the employment of all the -principal stockholders in the Port Fairy district, including Mr. John -Cox of Werongurt, the Messrs. Rutledge, Campbell, and Macknight, -Kennedy, Carmichael, and others. His never staying very long in one -place was less due to any fault of his own than to an inherent -restlessness and love of change. A born roamer, with strong Bohemian -proclivities, Jack had wandered over a considerable portion of the -colony. With commendable taste he latterly elected to make Western -Victoria his habitual residence; and, strangely enough, he was fated to -finish a roving life as nearly as possible at the place where he first -took service, more than forty years since, on his first arrival in the -district. - -A fellow-worker and in a sense a companion of my youth, he 'was a part -of those fresh days to me.' Many a day we rode together in the heaths -and marshes, the forests and volcanic trap-ridges which lie between the -lower Eumeralla and the sea. At many a muster have I heard Jack's cheery -shout, and enjoyed with others his drolleries at camp and drafting-yard. -Now poor Jack's whip is silent; his songs and jests are hushed for -evermore. A man with few faults and no vices. 'Born for a protest' (as -Mrs. Stowe says somewhere) 'against the excessive industrialism of the -age.' Many a dweller in the Port Fairy district must have felt sincerely -grieved at the news of poor old Jack's ending, and deemed that 'they -could have better spared a better man.' - -Peter Kearney, who came to Port Fairy first with Mr. Frank Cobham from -Monaro (a good specimen of the old race of stock-riders), was one of -Jack's earlier contemporaries. With Tom Glendinning, generally known in -the district as 'Old Tom,' he was employed for a time on the Eumeralla -station. Irish by birth and 'Sydney-siders' by residence, these last had -served apprenticeship to every grade of colonial experience. The naming, -indeed, of the Eumeralla station and river was due to 'Old Tom' and his -mates, who brought from New South Wales the J.T.H. cattle (formerly the -brand of John Terry Hughes), with which the station was first 'taken up' -by Mr. Hunter. From some fancied resemblance to the Umaralla (spelt -differently, by the way), one of the streams which mingle their waters -with the Snowy River near the Bredbo, the men christened the new -watercourse after the old one. There is no special resemblance, rather -the reverse, inasmuch as the Port Fairy river, if such it be, runs -mostly underground, percolating through marshes and trap dykes, and -generally pursues an erratic course, while the Umaralla of New South -Wales is a merry, purling, snow-fed stream, which nearly attained -celebrity by drowning Mr. Tyson, who crossed it ahead of our cattle in -1870, unobtrusively travelling, as was his wont, on horseback to -Gippsland. - -While on the subject of stock-riders, it is noticeable how many -different nationalities and sub-varieties there were among them. Peter -and Old Tom were, as I said before, Irishmen, both light weights, -first-rate riders, and extremely good hands at 'breaking-in cattle to -the run'—that lost or almost unnecessary art, except 'down the Cooper, -where the Western drovers go,' or thereabouts. I may stop here to state -that 'Clancy of the Overflow,' quoted by a writer who signs himself -'Banjo,' which appeared lately, was, in my opinion, the best bush-ballad -since Lindsay Gordon. It has the true ring of spur and snaffle combined -with poetic treatment—a conjunction not so easy of attainment as might -be supposed. When charged with the responsible duty of breaking-in store -cattle freshly turned out, Old Tom was ever mounted and away by -daylight. He disregarded breakfast, knowing that the early morn is the -time for getting on the tracks of wandering cattle. Carrying his -quart-pot with him, a wedge of damper and a similar segment of cold -corned-beef, after he had gone round his cattle and satisfied himself -that none of the leaders were away, then, and not till then, he lighted -a fire, made his tea, and settled to his breakfast with a good appetite -and a clear conscience. He came with me from Campbell's farm, in order -to point out Squattlesea Mere, then unoccupied, somewhere about May -1843. We stayed at Dunmore for lunch. The members of the firm were -absent, but good, kind Mrs. Teviot provided me with such a meal of -corned-beef, home-baked bread, fresh butter, short-cake and cream, that, -as I told my guide, I was provisioned for twenty-four hours if needful. -As it happened, by some mischance, we _were_ very nearly that precise -time before we had the next meal. - -'Jemmy' White, Mr. John Cox's stock-rider at Werongurt, and Joe Twist, -his assistant, a native-born Tasmanian, had both followed Mr. Cox's -fortunes from Clarendon in the lovely island. 'Jemmy' was a solid, -elderly man of considerable experience, and under his management the -Werongurt Herefords were kept in admirable order. He, like his -fellow-servant Buckley, was assisted by Mr. Cox in the purchase of a run -adjoining his master's station, where, with a flock of sheep to start -with, he became independent and comparatively rich. After marrying and -settling down, he built himself a comfortable brick house at Louth, and -died the possessor of beeves and pastures, horses and sheep, in -patriarchal plenty. - -Joe Twist—now, doubtless, 'old Mr. Twist,' and a substantial burgess of -Macarthur—was a boy when I first came to the district, but growing up in -the fulness of time, was promoted to be head stock-rider, _vice_ White -retired. He had by that time developed into one of the smartest hands in -a yard that ever handled drafting-stick, as well as a superb horseman in -connection with cattle-work. He would stand in a stock-yard among the -excited, angry cattle (and those that came out of the Mount Napier lava -country were playful enough) as if horns were so many reeds, even -waiting until the charging beast was almost upon him before stepping out -of the way, with the cool precision of a Spanish toreador. - -With all due respect for the ancestral Briton, whom every good -Australian should reverence, I hold that the native-born artist, while -equal in staying power, far surpasses him in dexterity. What Britisher -could ever shear as many sheep—ay, and shear them well—as the 'big blow' -men of the Riverina sheds? Natives they of Goulburn, Bathurst, the -Hawkesbury, Campbelltown—all the earlier Sydney settlements. Can any -imported 'homo' even now pilot twenty bullocks, with the wool of a small -sheep-station on the iron-bark waggon, along the roads the teamster -safely travels? And similarly for 'scrub-riding,' drafting, and -camp-work, though many of the old hands, grown men before they ever -touched Australian shores, became excellent, all-round bushmen, yet the -talent, to my mind, lies with their sons and grandsons, who are as -superior when it comes to pace and general efficiency as Searle and Kemp -to the Thames watermen. - -Well remembered yet is the first typical Australian stock-rider I ever -set eyes on—a schoolboy then out for a holiday. I was riding to -Darlington, our Mount Macedon Run, early in the 'forties,' with a -relative. From Howie's station a young man, detailed to show us a short -cut, rode up, furnishing to my delighted vision the romantic presentment -of a real stock-rider of the wild, such as I had longed to see. Tall, -slight, neatly dressed, with spur and stockwhip, strapped trousers and -cabbage-tree hat, 'accoutred proper,' he joined us, mounted upon a -handsome three-parts bred mare, in top condition. She shied and plunged -playfully as she came up. - -'Now, Miss Bungate,' he said, with mock severity of tone, 'what are you -up to?' - -This was one of the mental photographs, little heeded at the time, which -were of use in days to come. Tom or Jack, 'Howie's Joe' or 'Ebden's -Bill'—the rider's name cannot be guaranteed by me, but that bay mare I -never can forget. 'Wincing she went, as doth a wanton colt.' The summer -leaves may fall, and that dreary season, the winter of age, come on -apace, but Miss Bungate will be enshrined among the latest memories -which Time permits this brain to register and recall. - -The stock-riders of the past were a class of men to whom the earlier -pastoralists were much indebted. Placed in positions of great trust and -responsibility, they were, in the main, true to their salt and loyal to -their employers. If they occasionally erred in the wild confusion of -strayed cattle and unbranded yearlings, presumably the property of the -Government (was there not a celebrity thus claiming all estrays -humorously designated 'Unbranded Kelly'?), their temptations were great. -Without their aid, living lonely lives on the remoter inland stations, -the cattle herds, often menaced or decimated by the blacks, and roaming -over vast areas of natural pasture, would never have enabled their -owners to amass fortunes and create estates. They were, as a rule, -fearless sons of the wilderness, having some of the vices but many of -the virtues which have always honourably distinguished pioneers. - - - - - MOUNT MACEDON - - -In the later days of 1842 I paid my first visit to Macedon, beyond which -mountain our sheep-station, Darlington, had been formed in 1838. The -overseer, on a business visit to Melbourne, whether in recognition of -personal merit, or as desiring to do the polite thing to his employer's -son, invited me to return with him. I jumped at the proposal. The -paternal permission being granted, the following day saw me mounted upon -a clever cob named Budgeree, a survivor of the overland party from -Sydney to Port Phillip in 1838, fully accoutred for my first journey -into Bushland—the land of mystery, romance, and adventure, which I have -well explored since that day—that Eldorado whence the once-eager -traveller has returned war-worn and pecuniarily on a level with the -majority of pilgrims and knights-errant. - - And o'er his heart a shadow - Fell as he found - No spot on ground - That looked like Eldorado. - -We reached Howie's Flat, spending the night at the solitary -stock-rider's hut near Woodend. I still recall the keenness of the -frost, which came through the open slabs and interrupted my repose. -Macedon was the first mountain I had encountered in real life, familiar -as I was with his compeers in books. I regarded his shaggy sides, his -towering summit, with wonder and admiration, as we rode along the -straggling dray-track of the period. - -Walls of dark-stemmed eucalypti bounded the narrow road; shallow runlets -trickled across the rock ledges; while the breeze, strangely chill even -at mid-day, but rippled the ocean of leafage. Gloomy alike seemed the -endless forest ways, the twilight defiles, the rough declivities. At one -such place my companion remarked, 'This blinded gully is where Joe Burge -capsized the wool dray last shearing.' I thought it would be a nice -place for robbers. German stories of the _Bandit of the Black Forest_ -and such-like thrilling romances, which ended in the travellers being -carried off into caverns or tied up to trees, began to come into my -head. I was glad when we sighted the open country again. - -We arrived at Darlington next day, not without adventures, in that we -lost one horse. He slipped his head out of the tether rope, so we had to -double-bank old Budgeree, who proved himself a weight-carrier, equal to -the emergency. - -What a change has passed over the land since then! Mr. Ebden was at -Carlsruhe; Mr. Jeffreys close by; the Messrs. Mollison at Pyalong; and -Coliban, Riddell, and Hamilton at Gisborne. Hardly any one else in the -direct line of road. What waving prairies of grass! what a land of -promise! what a veritable Australia Felix, was the greater portion of -the country we rode over! - - * * * * * - -A decade has almost rolled by. What motley band is this which faces -outward, from Melbourne, along the selfsame road on which old Macedon -looks grimly down, as they ramble, straggling past under his very -throne? They are gold miners, actual or presumptive. - - Both worlds, all nations, every land - Had sent their conscripts forth to stand - In the gold-seeker's ranks. - -Mother Hertha has for once hidden her treasures so carelessly that the -most unscientific scratching shall suffice to win them. A hundred -deeply-rutted tracks now cross or run parallel with the once sole -roadway. Wild oaths in strange tongues awaken the long-silent echoes. -All ranks and orders of men are mingled as in the old crusades. -Different they, alas, in purpose as in symbol! Watch-fires gleam on all -sides. Night and day seem alike toilsome, troubled, vulgarised by noise -and disorder, strangely incongruous with the solemn mountain shadows and -the old stern solitude. - - * * * * * - -Again the years have passed. The lurid, early goldfields are no more. -Order reigns where crime and lawless violence once were rife. Handsome -towns have succeeded to the crowded, squalid encampments where dwelt the -fierce toilers for gold, the harpies, the camp-followers, the victims. I -am seated in a commodious stage coach, which behind a well-bred team -bowls along at a creditable pace over a well-kept, macadamised road. We -are _en route_ to Sandhurst, now a model town, with trees overshadowing -the streets, a mayor and a corporation, gaols and hospitals, libraries -and churches. Yet, as we pass Macedon, tales are told of mysterious -disappearances of home-returning diggers, which recall my early -association of brigands with the dark woods and lonely ravines. - - * * * * * - -'Tempora mutantur et nos mutamur in illis.' Shade of Mr. Cape, is the -quotation correct, or are we doing dishonour to that great man's -memory,—'building better than he knew,'—and the careful heed of -quantities, inculcated by personal application to our feelings, in the -days of heedless boyhood? Times have changed with a vengeance. Again in -Melbourne! It is changed, I trow. Great, famous, rich, one of the known -and quoted cities of the earth. _We_ have helped to produce this -triumph. But at what a price? Our youth has gone in the process. When we -look at all the fine things that fill one's vision by day, by night, -within its lofty halls, amid its crowded streets, we feel like the man -in the old story, who for power and wealth sold himself to the Fiend. -'All that's very fine, my friend,' an unkind sprite whispers to us. 'You -may or may not enjoy a part of this splendour, but you are not so young -as you were. I won't mention the D—— in polite society, but the demon of -Old Age will leave his card on you before long.' - -Yes, we are still extant, not wholly invalided, in this year of grace -1884. Instead of sitting on the box of Cobb's coach in Bourke Street at -6 A.M., while the punctual Yankee driver is waiting for the Post-office -clock to strike, my old friend and I, _en route_ for his well-known -hospitable home on the spurs of Macedon, enter a comfortable railway -carriage at mid-day. As we are whirled luxuriously through the grassy, -undulating downs and wide-stretching plains which surround Melbourne on -the north-east, we have ample leisure to enjoy the view. Macedon is -visible from the outset, dimly shadowed, kingly as of old, raising his -empurpled bulk athwart the summer sky. Passing the towers of -Rupertswood, the thriving towns of Gisborne and Riddell's Creek—did I -not know them in their earliest 'slab' or 'wattle-and-daub' infancy?—in -two hours of extremely easy travelling, relieved by conversation and -light literature, we see 'Macedon' on the board of the railway station, -and find ourselves at the village so named, built on the actual mountain -slope. Piles of timber of every variety, size, and shape, which can be -reft from the _Eucalyptus obliqua_ or _amygdalina_, show that the -ancient trade of the mountain foresters has not diminished. The chief -difference I suppose to be that the splitters and sawyers are no longer -compelled to lead a lonely, half-savage life, bringing the timber -laboriously to Melbourne by bullock dray, and, one may well believe, -indulging in a 'sdupendous and derrible shpree' after so rare a feat. -They now forward their lumber by rail, live like Christians, go to -church on Sundays, and read _The Argus_ daily for literary solace. - -We relinquish here the aid of steam, and trust to less scientific means -of locomotion. We are in the country in the sweet, true sense of the -word—component portions of a company of wisely-judging town-dwellers, -who by their choice of this elevated habitat have secured a weekly -supply of purest mountain air, unfettered rural life, and transcendent -scenery. Various vehicles are awaiting the home-returning contingent. -Buggies and sociables, dog-carts, pony-carriages, and phaetons with -handsome, well-matched pairs—the reins of the prize equipage in the -latter division being artistically handled by a lady. Our party and -luggage are swiftly deposited, a start is made along the rather steep -incline—the lady with the brown horses giving us all the go-by after a -while. Half an hour brings us to our destination. We leave the winding, -gravelly road; turning westwards, a lodge gate admits us through the -thick-ranked screen of forest trees. Conversation has somehow flagged. -What is this? We have all in a moment quitted the outer world, with its -still, rude furnishing—tree stumps, road metal, wood piles, and bullock -teams—and entered into—shall I say it straight out?—an earthly paradise! - -Prudence here nudges me. 'Come now, don't overdo it; you're really too -imaginative.' Well, there may be just the least _soupçon_ of idealism, -Prudence dear. I never was there, or if in a former state of existence, -have forgotten details; but if aught mundane can furnish a partial -presentment of Eve's favourite nook in that lost glory of our race, -surely it is the dream-garden which now opens before our wondering -vision. - -On the lip of the forest hollow, taking studied advantage of every point -of natural conformation, has been created a many-acred, garden -landscape, absolutely perfect in growth, harmony, and sustained beauty -of composition. The natural advantages, it must be admitted, are great, -perhaps unequalled. 'The dark wall of the forest,' but partially -invaded, forms a highly effective background to the cultured loveliness -and delicate floral brilliancy which it overshadows. On either side, the -sheltering primeval groves make effectual barrier against the withering -north wind of summer, the winter's southern sea-blasts. - -Cooler air and a lowered heat-register are consequent upon the altitude, -when on the plain below, plant and animal nature alike suffer from the -unpitying sun. Here rarely frost is seen or rude gales blow. Proudly and -secure may the dwellers on Darraweit Heights look from their mountain -home, across the unbroken stretch of plain and grassy down, relieved but -by copses, around farm-steadings and cornfields, where the harvest -sheaves are now standing in thick rows. In the dim distance are the -gleaming waters of the Bay. That cluster of far-seen lights, when the -shades of night have fallen, denotes the position of the metropolis. Can -that misty, pale-blue apparition be a mountain-range—the austere outline -of the Australian Alps? Westward lie the broad plains which stretch in -unbroken level, well-nigh to the coast, two hundred miles from -Melbourne. Around are companion heights and forest peaks. Still regal as -of yore, though his woods have been rifled and his solitudes invaded, -Macedon rears his majestic summit. The house—roomy, broad verandahed, -luxuriously comfortable, more commodious than many a pretentious -mansion—overlooks the 'pleasaunce,' to use the old Norman-French -nomenclature, here so curiously appropriate. Grounds of pleasure they, -in every sense of the word. More spacious than a garden, less extensive -than a chase, the reclaimed wild is unique in form and design as in -floral loveliness. It combines the colour-glories of the garden proper -with the freedom, the 'fine, fresh, careless rapture,' of a mountain -park. - -Now for a closer description. We confess to have hung off, -involuntarily, in despair of giving even a fairly accurate sketch of -this adorable creation. What then does it comprise? Nearly all things -that man has lacked since the primal fall. A collection of longed-for -luxuries, for which the o'ertaxed heart of world-wise, world-wearied man -so often sighs in vain. An abode of rest where, from morn till dewy eve, -the eye lights on nought but 'things of beauty,' which are 'a joy for -ever'; the ear is invaded by no sound but those of Nature's harmonies. -Here, if anywhere on earth, may the soul be attuned to heavenly -thoughts; here may this fallen nature of ours be purged from all save -ennobling ideas, so truly Eden-like are the surroundings. Rare flowering -shrubs developed by soil and irrigation into forest trees; masses of -choice flowers, exhibiting in this our fiercest summer month a freshness -and purity of bloom as astonishing as exquisitely beautiful. - -The natural features of the locale have doubtless been exhaustively -considered. Yet few horticultural artists would have seized so -unerringly upon the difficult compromise between Art and Nature which -has here been achieved. The winding walks through the mimic forests are -lonely and sequestered as those of an enchanted wood. The sultry heat of -the day's last lingering hour is effectually banished. The musical -trickle and splash of the tiny waterfalls is in your ear as, book in -hand, or lost in the rare luxury of an undisturbed day-dream, you -saunter on. Half-hidden recesses appear, where great fronds of foreign -ferns show strangely in the 'dim religious light'—'beautiful silence all -around, save wood bird to wood bird calling.' Out of the sad, sordid, -struggling world, far from its maddening discords and despair-tragedies, -your soul seems to recognise a purer, more sublimated mental atmosphere, -nearer in every sense to the empyrean, and freed from the lower needs of -this house of clay. A half-sigh of regret tells of fair visions fled, -even though you emerge on the lower, wider lawns gay with ribbon-borders -and yet brighter flower-fantasies in newer unfolding beauty. - -For lo! in this region of glamour and the long-lost kingdom of the -sorcerer, the wandering knight has fallen upon a fresh enchantment. -Proudest of all the engineering triumphs, the prize must be accorded to -the lakelet which glitters in the lower grounds. How the calm water -sleeps beneath the heavy foliage of the farther shore! How the shadows -reflect the tracery of the willow tresses, the feathery shafts of the -bamboo clump! How freshly green the bordering turf! There is even an -island and a wooded promontory. More than all—or do my eyes deceive -me?—a shallop, light as that in which - - The maiden paused as if again - She thought to catch the distant strain; - With head upraised and look intent, - And eye and ear attentive bent. - -By my halidome! stands she not therein—the 'Ladye of the Lake' -herself,—fair as her prototype, though modernly arrayed, gracefully -poising her light oar. With a smile that might lure an archangel she -beckons us to embark with her on this magical mirrored water, under the -charmed shadows of the golden summer eve. - -Surely all this is a dream. It cannot be but illusion. We shall wake on -the morrow, or next week at the farthest, to feel again the hot -dust-blast as we ride across the desert plain at midnight, to mark the -red moon glaring wrathfully upon the pale-hued, ghostly myall tree, that -sighs despair amid the death-stricken waste. - -Even so. Yet let us dream on and be happy, if but for a little space. -Glide smoothly, O bark; shine tenderly, O stars, soft glimmering through -the o'erhanging, rustling leafage; fan this sun-bronzed cheek, O -whispering breeze, this careworn brow, till each fevered pulse be -cooled. Short is our mortal span at most. How weary distant the -ever-lengthening goal! But wherever Fate may guide, however stern the -fray, how faint soe'er our footsteps in the onward march, this fair -remembrance shall have power to refresh and reanimate our soul. - -Yet another joy ere the evening, bright with songs and music, with -cheerful converse and pleasant reminiscence, comes to an end. We sit -amid the happy household group on the broad verandah-balcony, inhaling -the cool night air, and watching the wondrous effects of light and shade -produced by the late arisen moon. Masses of shrubbery stand -picturesquely gloomed against the moonlit lawns; odours of invisible -flowers pervade the still, pure atmosphere. Opaque as to their lower -bulk, the turreted tree-tops stand in clearest illumination to their -most delicate leafage against the cloudless firmament. There is no wind -or any faintest breeze to stir the tenderest leaflet. All nature is so -still that the tinkling murmur of the tiny rivulets, which thread the -lawns and flower-beds, falls distinctly on the ear. In faint but -rhythmic cadence they drip and ripple, gurgle and splash, the summer -night through. The flowers in the near foreground alone border on -individuality. Rose clusters and a few lily spikes are recognisable. -Unlike their human kalotypes, they await the dawn to recommence their -fascination. And then, in calmest contemplation, or enjoyment of -low-toned interchange of thought, ends the restful, happy day. On the -lower levels, in the country towns and around the metropolis, as we were -subsequently assured, it was felt to be sultry and oppressively heated, -while on these happy heights of Darraweit—the Simla of Victoria—the air -was at once cool and fragrant, subtly exhilarating as the magic draught -which renews the joys of youth. - - - - - WALKS ABROAD - - -Only a month to midsummer—A.D. 1883—when on this verge of the great -north-western plain-ocean we fall across a section of the railway to -Bourke in course of construction. Nature is here hard beset by Art. What -a mighty avenue has the contractor's army cut through the primeval -forest! The close-ranked trees taper, apparently, to nothingness until -the horizon is reached. In the twelve miles that your sight reaches, -there is not the smallest curve—no departure from the mathematically -straight line. If you could see a hundred and twenty miles, you would -find none greater than is visible now; for this avenue is something over -that length, and is said by railway men to be one of the longest 'pieces -of straight' in the world. - -The still incompleted work is even now being ministered to with the -strong, skilled hands of hundreds of men. All the same, the inspecting -overseer is a necessary personage in the interests of the State. He it -is who descries 'a bit of slumming,' however minute; who arrests -progress, lest bolts be driven instead of screwed; who compels 'packing' -and other minute but important details upon which the safety of the -travelling public depends. - -How efficiently is man aided by his humbler fellow-creatures, whom, for -all that, he does by no means adequately respect or pity. See those two -noble horses on their way to be hooked-on to a line of trucks! They are -grand specimens of the Australian Clydesdale—immense creatures, highly -fed, well groomed, and, it would appear, well trained. - -They have no blinkers, and from the easy way in which, unled, they step -along the edge of the embankment, where there is but a foot-wide path, -lounging through the navvies without pausing or knocking against -anybody, they seem fully to comprehend the peculiarities of railway -life. They are attached by chains hooked to the axles of two of the six -trucks, weighing some fifty or sixty tons, which require to be moved. -Once in motion, of course, the draught is light, but the incline is -against them, and the dead pull required to start the great weight is no -joke. At the word they go into their collars with a will, the near -horse, a magnificent dark bay, almost on his knees, and making the earth -and metal fly at the side of the rails in his tremendous struggle to -move the load. He strains every muscle in his powerful frame gallantly, -unflinchingly, as if his life depended upon the task being performed and -all at a word; he is neither touched nor guided. - - He knew his duty a dead sure thing, - And went for it then and there. - -His comrade lacks apparently the same high tone of feeling, for his -efforts are stimulated by an unjustifiable expression on the part of the -driver, and a bang on the ribs with a stout wattle. The line of trucks -moves, however; then glides easily along the rails. When the end of the -'tip' is reached both horses stop, are released, walk forward a few -paces, and stand ready for the next feat of strength and handiness. This -happens to be pay-day on the line, which agreeable performance takes -place monthly. The manner of personal remuneration I observe to be this: -the paymaster and his assistant, with portentous, ruled pay-sheets, take -their seats in a trench. The executive official carries a black leather -bag, out of which he produces a number of sealed envelopes variously -endorsed. - -Different sections are visited, and the men are called up one by one. -Small delay is there in handing over the indispensable cash. 91. William -Jones, £9: 12s.; 90. Thomas Robinson, £9: 4s., one day; 89. John Smith, -£8: 16s., two days. Smith acquiesces with a nod, signifying that he is -aware that the two days during which he was, let us say, indisposed -after the last pay-day have been recorded against him, and the wage -deducted. There is no question apparently as to accuracy of account. The -envelopes are stuffed into trouser-pockets, mostly without being opened. -A few only inspect their contents, and gaze for a second upon the crisp -bank-notes and handful of silver. Some of the sums thus paid are not -small—gangers and other minor officials receiving as much as twelve and -thirteen shillings a day; the ordinary pick and shovel men, eight. -Overtime is paid for extra, which swells the amount received. One -payment for fencing subcontractors exceeded eighty pounds. Sixteen -hundred pounds, all in cash, came out of the superintendent's wallet -that day. - -I noticed the men for the most part to be under thirty, many of them -almost boyish in appearance. They were cleanly in person, well dressed -and neat for the work they have to do, well fed, and not uncomfortably -lodged considering the mildness of the climate. One and all they show -grand 'condition,' as is evidenced by the spread of shoulder, the -development of muscle, with the lightness of flank observable in all. As -to nationality they are pretty evenly divided; the majority are British, -but an increasing proportion of native-born Australians is observable, I -am told. With regard to pre-eminence in strength and staying power the -home-bred English navvy chiefly bears the palm, though I also hear that -the 'ringer' in the pick and shovel brigade is a Hawkesbury man, of -Cornish parents, a total abstainer, and an exemplary workman. - -With such a monthly outflow of hard cash over a restricted area, it may -be imagined what a trade is driven by boarding-house keepers and owners -of small stores. The single men take their meals at these rude -restaurants, paying from 18s. to £1 per week. The married men live in -tents or roughly-constructed huts in the 'camps' nearest to their work. - -I fear me that on the day following pay-day, and perhaps some others, -there is gambling and often hard drinking. The money earned by strenuous -labour and strict self-denial during the month is often dissipated in -forty-eight hours. The boarding-house keepers are popularly accused, -rightly or wrongly, of illegally selling spirits. Doubtless in many -instances they do so, to the injury of public morals and the -impoverishment of the families of those who are unable to resist the -temptation. A heavy penalty is always enforced when proof is afforded to -the satisfaction of justice; but reliable evidence of this peculiar -infraction of the law is difficult to obtain, the men generally -combining to shield the culprits and outswear the informer. - -A few miles rearward is the terminus of this iron road that is -stretching so swiftly across the 'lone Chorasmian waste.' Here converge -caravans from the inmost deserts. Hence depart waggon-trains bearing -merchandise in many different directions. What a medley of all the -necessaries, luxuries, and superfluities of that unresting, insatiable -toiler, man! They lie strewed upon the platform, or heaped in huge -mounds and pyramids under the lofty goods sheds. Tea and sugar, flour -and grain, hay and corn, chaff and bran, machines of a dark and doubtful -character connected with dam-making and well-sinking; coils of wire, -cans of nails, hogsheads of spirits, casks of wine, tar, paint, oil, -clothing, books, rope, tools, windlasses, drums of winding gear, -waggons, carts, and buggies all new and redolent of paint and varnish; -also timber and woolpacks, and, as the auctioneer says, hundreds of -articles too numerous to mention. What a good customer Mr. Squatter is, -to be sure, while there is even the hope of grass, for to him are most -of these miscellaneous values consigned, and by him or through him will -they be paid for. - -We are now outside of agriculture. The farmer, as such, has no -abiding-place here. That broad, dusty trail leads, among other -destinations, to the 'Never Never' country, where ploughs are not, and -the husbandman is as impossible as the dodo. - -Perhaps we are a little hasty in assuming that everything we see at the -compendious depôt is pastorally requisitioned. That waggon that creaks -wailingly as it slowly approaches, with ten horses, heavy laden though -apparently empty, proclaims yet another important industry. Look into -the bottom and you will see it covered with dark red bricks, a little -different in shape from the ordinary article. On a closer view they have -a metallic tinge. They are _ingots of copper_, of which some hundreds of -tons come weekly from the three mines which send their output here. As -for pastoral products, the line of high-piled, wool-loaded waggons is -almost continuous. As they arrive they are swiftly unloaded into trucks, -and sent along a special side-line reserved for their use. Flocks of fat -sheep and droves of beeves, wildly staring and paralysed by the first -blast of the steam-whistle, arrive, weary and wayworn. At break of day -they are beguiled into trucks, and within six-and-thirty hours have -their first (and last) sight of the metropolis. - -In the meantime herds of team-horses, bell-adorned, make ceaseless, not -inharmonious jangling; sunburnt, bearded teamsters, drovers, shepherds, -mingled with navvies, travellers, trim officials, tradesfolk, and the -usual horde of camp-followers, male and female, give one the idea of an -annual fair held upon the border of an ancient kingdom before -civilisation had rubbed the edges from humanity's coinage, and -obliterated so much that was characteristic in the process. - -I stood on the spot an hour before daybreak on the following morn. -Hushed and voiceless was the great industrial host. Around and afar -stretched the waste, broadly open to the moonbeams, which softened the -harsh outline of forest thicket and arid plain. The stars, that -mysterious array of the greater and the lesser lights of heaven, burned -in the cloudless azure—each planet flashing and scintillating, each tiny -point of light 'a patine of pure gold.' The low croon of the wild-fowl, -as they swam and splashed in the river-reach, was the only sound that -caught the ear. Glimmering watch-fires illumined the scattered -encampment. For the moment one felt regretful that the grandeur of Night -and Silence should be invaded by the vulgar turmoil of the coming day. - -One of the aids to picturesque effect, though not generally regarded as -artistic treatment, is the clearing and formation of roads through a -highland district. Such a region is occasionally reached by me, and -never traversed without admiration. The ways are surrounded by wooded -hills, some of considerable altitude, on the sides and summits of which -are high piled - - rocks, confusedly hurled, - The fragments of an earlier world. - -But here the road-clearing, rarely supplemented by engineering -disfigurement, produces the effect of a winding, thickly-grown avenue. -On either side stand in close order the frenelas, casuarinas, and -eucalypts of the forest primeval, with an occasional kurrajong or a -red-foliaged, drought-slain callitris, 'like to a copper beech among the -greens.' The floor of this forest-way is greenly carpeted with the -thick-growing spring verdure, a stray tiny streamlet perhaps crossing at -intervals, while leaflets of the severed saplings are bursting through -in pink or dark-red bunches. In the far distance rises a dark-blue -range, towering over the dim green ocean of forest, and marking the -contrast sharply between the land of hill and dale and the monotonous -levels of the lower country. - -With all the capriciousness of Australian seasons the springtime of this -year has shown a disposition to linger—waving back with grateful showers -and dew-cooled nights and mornings the too impatient summer. Still is -the grass brightly green of hue, the flower unfaded. The plague of dust -has been stayed again and again by the welcome rainfall. There has never -been more than one day when the winds have risen to a wintry bleakness. -But who recks of so trifling a discomfort from such a cause, and will -not King Sol be avenged upon us ere Christmastide be passed—ere the -short, breezeless nights of January are ended? - -What contrasts and discrepancies Dame Nature sanctions hereabouts in the -formation of her feathered families! That soaring eagle, so far above us -heavenward, in the blue empyrean, how true a monarch among birds is he! -Now he stoops, circling lower and yet lower still, with moveless -outstretched pinion and searching gaze that blenches not before the -sun's fiercest rays. The tiny blue-throated wren perches fearlessly -near, and hops with delicate feet from stone to stone amid the -sheltering ferns. That downy white-breasted diver, a ball of feathers in -the clear pool of the mountain streamlet, now with a ripple become -invisible—the devoted pelican, with sword-like beak and pouch of -portentous dimensions. Lo! there sits he with his fellows by the edge of -a shallowing anabranch, or revels with them in the evil days of drought -upon the dying fish which in hundreds are cast upon the shore. As I -tread the homeward path, the skylark springs upward from the waving -grass; trilling his simple lay, he mounts higher and yet higher, no -unworthy congener, though inferior as a songster to his British -namesake. In the adjacent leafless trees is a flight of gaunt, -dark-hued, sickle-beaked birds. Travellers and pilgrims they, relatives -of earth's oldest, most sacred bird races. Behold a company of the ibis -from far far wilds. Their presence here is ominous and boding. They are -popularly supposed to migrate coastwards only when the great lakes of -the interior begin to fail. This, however, is not an unfailing test of a -dry season, as in long-dead summers I have had occasion to note. They -are not too dignified, in despite of their quasi-sacred hierophantic -traditions, to eat grasshoppers. As these enemies alike of farmers and -squatters are now despoiling every green thing, let us hope that the -ibis contingent may have appetites proportioned to the length of their -bills and the duration of their journey. A white variety of the species -is occasionally noted, but he is rare in comparison with the darker -kind. - -By the creek bank, in the early morn, the well-remembered note of the -kingfisher, so closely associated with our youth, sounds close and -clear. Yonder he sits upon the dead limb of the overhanging -tree—greenish blue, purple-breasted as of yore. Stonelike he plunges -into the deep pool, reappearing with a small fish or allied -water-dweller. More beautiful is his relative the lesser kingfisher, -metallic in sheen, with crimson breast—flashing like a feathered gem -through the river shades, or burning like a flame spot against the -mouldering log on which he sits. Of palest fawn colour, with long black -filament at the back of his head, that graceful heron, the 'nankeen -bird' of the colonist, is also of the company; the white-necked, -dark-blue crane, and that black-robed river pirate the cormorant. While -on the bird question, surely none are more delicately bright, more -exquisitely neat of plumage and flawless of tone, than the Columba -tribe. Ancient of birth are they as 'the doves from the rocks,' and -principally for their conjugal fidelity have been honoured, by the -choice of Mr. Darwin, as exemplars in working out experiments connected -with the origin of species. In western wanderings I find five varieties -of the pigeon proper. The beautiful bronze-wing, the squatter, and the -crested pigeon. Besides these, two varieties of the dove are among the -most exquisitely lovely of feathered creatures. Both are very small—one -scarcely larger than a sparrow. The 'bronze-wing' is too well known to -need description. The 'squatter pigeon' is a plainer likeness, with a -spot of white on either cheek, and, as its name implies, is unwilling to -fly up, being struck down occasionally with the whip or a short throwing -stick in the act of rising. The crested pigeon, the most graceful and -attractive of the family, is from its tameness and extreme cleanliness -of habit most suitable for the aviary. In colouring, the breast is a -delicate slate-grey tinged with faintest pink as it rises towards the -wing muscles, the front wings barred with dark, pencilled cross-lines, -the larger feathers of the extremities a burnished green, and the last -row having feathers of a vivid dark pink or crimson. A crest and -elongated pointed tail give character and piquancy to the whole -appearance. As they fly up, a whirring noise, not unlike that of the -partridge, is heard. When the male bird swells his chest and lowers his -wings in defiance or ostentation, he produces a sound not unlike that of -his long-civilised congener. They will lay and hatch in captivity, and I -observed in an aviary one of the females sitting on her eggs -complacently in a herring tin. - - - FROM TUMUT TO TUMBERUMBA - -It was rather too far to walk this time; besides, the days are -shortening. From Tumut to Tumberumba is forty-five miles all out, and a -bad road. At breakfast-time we had no earthly idea of how or where to -get a horse. A friend in need tided over that difficulty. So, mounted -upon a clever mountain-bred hackney, we cleared the town about 9.30 -A.M., and headed for the Khyber Pass (in a small way), up which the road -winds south-easterly. The time was short, but we meant going steadily, -if not fast, all through, and trusted, as we have done 'with a squeeze' -full many a time and oft before, to 'save the light.' - -Buggies are comfortable vehicles when roads are good and horses fresh. -You can carry your 'things' with you, and, in cases of entertainments, -come out with more grandeur and effect than if on horseback. But give me -the saddle, 'haud juventutis immemor.' It brings back old times; and -certainly for people whose appearance is in danger of being compromised -by a tendency to increased weight, riding is the more healthful -exercise. Besides, one always feels as if adventures were possible to -cavaliers. Wheels circumscribe one too narrowly. You must start early. -You had better not drive late. Your stopping-places must be marked and -labelled as it were. You are _affiché_, for good or evil. - -Now, once started on a fine morning, on a good horse, a 'lazy ally' -feeling seems to pervade the surroundings and the landscape. If you meet -wayside flowers, you may linger to gather them. You may avail yourself -of chance invitations, secure that you can 'pull up time' late or early. -As you sail away, if your horse walks well and canters easily (as does -this one), you insensibly think of 'A day's ride, a life's romance.' Is -that romance yet over? It may be. We are 'old enough to know better.' -But still we were quite sure when we started that we should meet with an -adventure or two. - -First of all, we saw two young people in a buggy, driving towards the -mountain land which lay eastward in a cloud-world. There was something -in the expression of their backs as they passed us which suggested an -early stage of the Great Experiment. The bride was fair, with, of -course, a delicate complexion—that goes without saying in this part of -the world. The bridegroom was stalwart and manly looking. Presently we -were overtaken by another young lady of prepossessing appearance, with -two attendant cavaliers, well mounted and evidently belonging to the -same party. Bound for some miles along the same lonely but picturesque -road, we asked permission to join the party, and fared on amicably. -Together we breasted the 'Six-Mile Hill,' and at length emerged upon the -alpine plateau, which for many miles lies between the towns before -mentioned. - -Here the scene changed—the climate, the soil, the timber, the -atmosphere. Eastward lay the darkly-brooding Titans of Kiandra, -snow-capped and dazzling, the peaks contrasting with their darksome -rugged sides, the blue and cloudless sky. Beneath our feet, beside and -around us, lay the partially-thawed snow of Saturday's fall, in -quantities which would have delighted the hearts of certain children of -our acquaintance. - -Snow in the abstract, 'beautiful snow,' is a lovely nature-wonder, -concerning which many things have been sweetly sung and said. But in the -concrete, after a forty-eight hours' thaw, it is injurious to roads, in -that it causes them to be 'sloppy' and in a sense dangerous to horse and -rider. Given a red, soapy soil, somewhat stony, sticky, and irregularly -saturated, it must be a very clever steed, the ascents, descents, and -sidelings being continuous, that doesn't make a mistake or two. All the -same, the girl on the well-bred chestnut horse kept sailing away, up -hill, down hill, and along sidelings steep as the roof of a house; the -whole thing (to quote Whyte-Melville) 'done with the graceful ease of a -person who is playing upon a favourite instrument while seated in an -armchair.' We kept in sight the second detachment, coming up in time to -bid farewell as they turned off to the residence of the bride's family, -where there was to be a dance in celebration of the auspicious event. We -separated with my unspoken benison upon so promising a pair. - -The wedding guests having departed, we paced on for half-a-dozen miles -until a break in the solemn forest, like a Canadian clearing, disclosed -the welcome outline of the half-way hostelry. Here were there distinct -traces of the austerity of the patriarch Winter, so mild of mien on the -lower levels. Half a foot of snow lay on the roofs of barn and stable, -while the remnant of a gigantic snow-image, reduced to the appearance of -a quartz boulder, lay in front of the house. - -A bare half-hour for refection was all that could be spared here, and as -our steed ate his corn with apparently the same zest that characterised -our consumption of lunch, it was time well spent. Boot and saddle again. - -'But first, good mine host, what is the exact distance? The sun is low; -the road indifferent rough; the night unfriendly for camping out.' - -'Fifteen mile if you take the "cut"; eighteen by the road, every yard of -it.' - -'We mistrust short "cuts,"' say we, consulting the watch, which -indicates 3.30 P.M.; 'they have lured us into difficulties ere now. But -three miles make a tempting deduction from the weary end of the journey. -We cannot miss it. Thanks; of that I am aware. Turn to the left, -opposite the second house, cross the creek, turn to the right, and -follow straight on.' - -Of course. Just so. The old formula. How many a time have we cursed it -and the well-intentioned giver, by all our gods, when stumbling, hours -after, trackless, over an unknown country in darkness and despair. -Reflected that by merely following the high road we should have been -warmly housed, cheered, and fed long before. However, unusual enterprise -or the mountain air induces us to try the short cut aforesaid; only this -time, of course, we turn to the left, and immediately perceive ('facilis -descensus Averni') that the path leads into a tremendous glen, with -sides like the roof of a house. We dismount, as should all prudent -riders not after cattle, and lead down our active steed. At the foot of -the cañon is a hurrying, yellow-stained mountain stream. Dark-red -bluffs, undermined and washed to the gravel, exposed in all directions. -'Worked and abandoned' is plainly visible to the eye of the initiated -upon the greater portion of the locality; but still lingering last are -miners' cottages and a garden here and there. Children, of course. Ruddy -of hue and sturdy, they abound like the fruits of a colder clime in -these sequestered vales. - -'What is the name of this—place?' say we guardedly to a blue-eyed boy, -good-humouredly nursing a fractious baby. - -'Upper Tumberumba,' he returns answer proudly. - -'And the road to the town?' - -'Cross the creek and follow down for six mile, and there you are.' - -The road on the far side of the violent little creek follows that -watercourse, and is fairly made. Bridges are the main consideration, for -there seem to be _trois cent milles_ water-races, some too deep to fall -into scathless; and 'beauty born of murmuring sound' must be plentiful, -judging from the rushing, gushing, leaping, and tumbling waters before -and around us. - -This is a land of sluices, of head-races and tail-races, evidently, -where 'first water' and 'second,' dam sites, and creek claims, with all -the unintelligible phraseology of 'water diverted from its natural -course for gold-mining purposes,' were once in high fashion and -acceptance. As the short winter day darkens without warning, we trust -that the bridges are sound, more especially as we have just cantered -over one with a hole in it as big as a frying-pan. - -One advantage secured by our adoption of the 'cut' is patently that of -drier footing, the which causes our steed to amble with cheerfulness and -alacrity. The night comes on apace, but there is still sufficient light -to distinguish the roadway from obstacles and pitfalls. When the -well-known sound of the water-mill breaks the stillness, light and -voices betray the proximity of a township, and Tumberumba proper is -reached. - -When we quit Tumberumba in the early morn for the return journey to -Tumut, the air is charged with vapour, the mists lie heavily upon the -hills. The low grey sky, the drizzle and the damp which pervade all -nature, suggest 'The Lewis' or other Hebridean region. One can fully -realise the sort of weather chiefly prevailing when the King of Bora -uttered his pathetic farewell 'to his little Sheilah,' returning to his -desolate dwelling alone, to distract himself as best he might with the -company of the simple (but not vulgar) fishermen and a reasonable -consumption of alcohol. - -This opens up to the contemplative mind the whole vast 'Grief Question, -and how people bear it.' What volumes might be written about the sorrows -of the bereaved, the forsaken men or women!—'all the dull, deep sorrow, -the constant anguish of patience.' How the slow torture drags on, varied -only by pangs of acute mental pain—the throbs, the rackings, the utterly -unendurable torment—what time the agonised spirit elects to quit its -earthly tenement and face the dread unknown, rather than longer suffer -the too dreadful present! So the soldier, captured by Indians, shoots -himself to escape the inevitable torture. Also in this connection -regarding anodynes, distractions, solaces, and medicaments, the which -can be used harmlessly by one class of patients, but in no wise by -others. - -'An early start makes easy stages,' saith the seer. So it comes to pass -that soon after mid-day we find ourselves at the Bago Cabaret, after -which we incontinently dismount, fully minded to bait, after four or -five hours' battling with the stony, sticky, slippery sidelings of the -track. The good horse well deserves a feed. Also, thanks to the keenness -of the atmosphere, we experience a steady prompting towards luncheon. - -The horse is led away, and in the parlour we find a fire, a welcome, and -agreeable society. We learn that the wedding dance duly took place, well -attended, and a great success—our fair informants having been there and -danced till daylight, after which they walked home a trifle of five -miles, which, with snow still on the ground, showed, in our opinion, -praiseworthy pluck and determination; a convincing proof, were any -needed, that the Anglo-Saxon race has not degenerated in this part of -the world. 'The reverse if anything,' as the irascible old gentleman in -the hunting-field made answer after a fall, when it was politely -inquired of him 'whether he was hurt.' - - But pleasures are like poppies spread— - -fair yet fleeting in the very constitution of them; so an hour having -quickly passed, much refreshed in sense and spirit, we tackle the -twenty-six very long miles, in our estimation, which divide us from the -fair Tumut Valley. Still lowers the day. The mists shut out the -snow-crowned peaks. The forest is saturated with moisture, which ever -and anon drops down like a shower-bath when the breeze stirs the leaves -briskly. It is not a gala day, exactly. But oh, how good for the -country! - -What beneficent phenomena are the early and the latter rain! As we look -downwards we can see thousands of tiny clover leaflets, none of your -_Medicago sativa_, with its yellow flower and deadly burr, but the true, -sweet-scented English meadow plant, fragrant in spring, harmless, -fattening, and sustaining to a wonderful degree, whenever it can command -the moisture which is its fundamental necessity of growth. In days to -come, every yard of this grand primeval woodland will be matted with it -and the best English grasses, not forgetting that prime exotic the -prairie grass (_Bromus unioloides_). - -We are not aware whether there has been an extensive forest reserve -proclaimed hereabouts, but in the interests of the State there should -be. These grand, pillar-like timber trees, straight as gun-barrels, a -hundred feet to the lowest branch, the growth of centuries, should not -be abandoned to the bark-stripper, the ring-barker, the indiscriminate -feller of good and bad timber alike. There is material here—gum, -messmate, mountain ash, every variety of eucalyptus—to serve for the -sawpits, the railway bridges, and sleepers of centuries to come, if -properly guarded and supervised. And it behoves the elected guardians of -the public rights to permit no private monopoly or forestalling; to see -to the matter in time. For many an unremembered year have these glorious -groves been slowly maturing. The carelessness of a comparatively short -period may permit their destruction. - -The eucalypts, as a family, have been subjected to undeserved contumely -and scorn as trees which produce leaves but do not furnish shade, which -are 'withered and wild in their attire' as regards umbrageous covering. -All depends upon the locality, the altitude, the consequent rainfall. -Here the frondage is thick yet delicate in the older trees, while among -the younger growth the habit is almost as dense and drooping as that of -the _Acmena pendula_, which many of them resemble in the mass of -pink-grey leafage. I notice, too, the beautiful blackwood or hickory of -the colonists (_Acacia melanoxylon_), though not in great abundance nor -of unusual size. Nothing, for instance, like the specimens near Colac, -Western Victoria, or between Port Fairy and Portland. And scrutinising -closely the different genera, we discovered a tree which bore a curious -resemblance to a hybrid between the eucalyptus and the said blackwood. -The leaves were thick, blunt-edged, and singularly like the blackwood. -The bark was like that of the mimosa on the stem and branches, but -roughened towards the butt. The blossom—for it was just out—was -unmistakably that of the eucalyptus tribe. We had never met with the -specimen before and it puzzled us. It is locally known as the 'water -gum.' The true mimosa and the wild cherry (_Exocarpus cupressiformis_) -were common—this last of no great size; the wild hop occasionally. The -English briar was not absent—as to which we foresee, for this rich soil, -trouble in the future. - -Lonely and hushed—in a sense awful—is this elevated region. The solitude -becomes oppressive as one rides mile after mile along the silent -highway, nor sees nor hears a sign of life save the note of the -infrequent wood-thrush or the cry of the soaring eagle. But lo! the -ruins of an ancient stock-yard! Easily recognised as belonging to the -hoar antiquity of a purely pastoral _régime_. The selector-farmers do -not put up such massive corner posts or cyclopean gateways. Not for them -and their slight enclosures is the rush of a hundred wild six-year-old -bullocks, with a due complement of 'ragers,' given every now and again -to carry a whole side of the yard away. This was the station stock-yard, -doubtless, what time 'Bago Jemmy' and other stock-riders of the period -acquired a colony-wide reputation for desperate riding (and equally hard -drinking) amid these break-neck gullies and hillsides. They are gone; -the wild riders, the wild cattle. Even the rails of the stock-yard have -been utilised for purposes wide of their original intention. 'Their -memorial is perished with them,' all save the huge corner and -gate-posts, which, embedded four feet in the ground, are regarded as -difficult and expensive to remove, and of no particular use, ornament, -or value when uprooted. So they remain, possibly to puzzle future -antiquarians, like the round towers of the Green Isle. - - - IN THE THROES OF A DROUGHT - -This is my last ramble for a while through the plains and forests of the -North-West; would that it had been made under more pleasing -circumstances. 'How shall I endure to behold the destruction of my -kindred?' The quotation is apposite. All pastoralists are akin to me by -reason of old memories; and if Rain comes not in this month of March, or -even in April, their destruction, financially, seems imminent. - -What a weary time it is in the 'plains dry country,' whither my -wandering steps have strayed at present. Far as eye can see, there is no -herb nor grass nor living plant amid the death-stricken waste; not even -the hard-visaged shrub—the attenuated, closely-pruned twigs of the -salsolaceous plant. Earlier in the season a large proportion of the -stock were removed, and were agisted at a high cost. The remainder were -left to live or die as the season may turn out. The station-holders have -at length become reckless, and have ceased to take trouble about the -matter. - -How hard it seems! For years the energetic, sanguine pastoralist shall -invest every pound he has made, and more besides, in stud animals of -high value, in judicious improvements, from which he is reasonably -certain in a few years to receive splendid interest for the capital -invested. When his plans are matured, when the improvement of his stock -is demonstrated, will not his fame redound to the furthest limits of -Australia? Eventually he will be able to revisit or for the first time -behold Europe. All imaginable triumphs will be his. Rich, fortunate, -envied, he will be amply repaid for the toils, the sacrifices, the -privations of his earlier years. - -'Then comes a frost, a killing frost.' Well, not exactly that, though -frosts of considerable severity do occur, hot as is the climate; but it -'sets in dry.' No rain comes after spring; none during summer; none in -autumn; curious to remark, none even in winter—except, of course, -insignificant or partial showers. That seems strange, does it not? -Instead of from sixteen to twenty-six inches of rain in twelve months, -there fall but six—even less perhaps. What is the consequence of all -this? The creeks, the dams, the rivers dry up; the grass perishes; what -little pasturage there may be, is eaten up by the famishing flocks. - -During the summer it does not appear that the evil will be of such -magnitude. The stock look pretty well. There is water; and the diet of -dust, leaves, and sticks, with unlimited range, and no shepherds to -bother, does not seem to disagree with them. Then the autumn comes, with -shorter days; longer, colder nights. Still no rain! The sheep, the -cattle, even the wild horses, begin now to feel the cruel pinch of -famine. The weakest perish; the strong become weak; day by day numbers -of the enfeebled victims are unable to rise after the weakening -influences of the chilly night. The water-holes become muddy; defiled -and poisoned with the carcases of animals which have had barely strength -to drag themselves to the tempting water, over many a weary mile, have -drunk their fill, and then lacked power to ascend the steep bank or -extricate themselves from the clinging mud. - -What a time of misery and despair is this for the luckless proprietor! -He sees before his eyes the thousands and tens of thousands of -delicately woolled sheep, in whose breeding and multiplication he has -taken so much pains,—on behalf of which he has studied treatises, and -gone into all the history of the merino family since the days of ancient -Spanish Cabanas, Infantados, Escurials, what not,—converted into a crowd -of feeble skeletons, perishing in thousands before his eyes without hope -or remedy, save in the advent of rain, which, as far as appearances go, -may come next year or the year after that. - -Is it possible to imagine a condition more melancholy, more hopeless, -more calculated to drive to suicide the hapless victim of circumstances, -beyond his—beyond any man's control? It has had the effect ere now. The -torturing doubt, the hope deferred, _has_ resulted in the dread, -irrevocable step. And who can find it in his heart to condemn? - -In a season like this, every one can realise the benefit of railways. -How would these inland wastes be supplied were it not for the -all-powerful steam-king? The dwellers hereabouts would scarcely have -bread to eat; the necessaries of life would be enhanced in price; forage -would be unattainable, except at prices which would resemble feeding -them upon half-crowns. Talking to a teamster the other day about the -signs of the times, I remarked that he and his comrades were compelled -to carry quantities of forage with which to support their horses, while -delivering loading. - -'We'll have to carry a tank soon,' replied the tall, sun-bronzed -Australian, 'if the season holds on this way. The water-holes are -getting that low and choked up with dead stock as they're neither fit -for man or beast to drink; and we lose horses too.' - -'How is that?' - -'Well, the heat, or the dust, or the rubbish in the chaff kills 'em. I -can't rightly tell what it is; but these three teams lost five horses in -one day—dropped down dead on that terrible hot Sunday.' - -I did not wonder. There were the upstanding, well-conditioned -Clydesdales walking along with their loads, gamely enough, but in a -perfect cloud of dust. Above them the burning sun; around, the sandy, -herbless waste. Different surroundings from those of the misty Northern -Isles, from which their ancestors, near or remote, had come! Ponderous, -heavy of hoof and hair, it seemed wonderful that they can do the work -and travel the immense distances they do, under conditions so alien to -their natural state. I inquired of their driver, himself an example of -gradual adaptation to foreign habitude, whether the medium-sized, -lighter-boned draught horses did not stand the eternal sun and drought -better than their larger brethren. He thought they did. 'Wanted less -food, and not so liable to inflammation or leg weariness.' I should be -disposed to think that the Percheron horse, of which valuable breed -several sires have lately been imported to Melbourne from Normandy, -would be suitable for the long, hot, waggon journeys of the interior—a -clean-limbed, active, spirited horse, immensely powerful for his size, -easily kept, and more likely 'to come again' after exceptional fatigue. -But I know from experience that the Australian horse in _every class_, -from the Shetland pony to the Shire, is the strongest, most active, and -most enduring animal that the world can show. And I hesitate in the -assertion that by any other horse can he be profitably superseded. - -As one traverses the arid waste, from time to time a whirlwind starts up -within sight; a sand-pillar raises itself, contrasting strangely with -the clear blue ether. Darkly smoke-coloured, furiously plunging about -the base, it gradually fines off into the upper sky if you follow it -sufficiently long. - -'People doubt,' said the Eastern traveller to his guide, 'what produces -those sand-pillars which so suddenly appear before us.' - -'There is _no doubt_ about the matter, praise be to Allah!' quoth the -Bedouin. 'It is perfectly well known, say our holy men, that they are -(_Djinns_) evil spirits.' - -Is it so? and do they come to dance exultingly amid the stricken waste, -over ruined hopes, dying herds and flocks—to mock at the vain adventurer -who deemed that he could alter natural conditions and wrest fame and -fortune from the ungenial wilds? Who may tell? They can scarcely afford -a good omen. The unimaginative boundary-rider regards them as a 'sign of -a dry season.' More likely, one would say, they are its result. In a -long-continued drought the production of dust must needs be favourable -to the action of whirlwinds. - -The oppressiveness of the summer is more felt in March, perhaps, than in -any other month of the year. The hot weather has tired out the bodily -power of resistance. One yearns and pines for a change; if it comes not, -an intolerable weariness, a painful languor, renders life for all not in -robust health hard indeed to bear. Gradually relief arrives in the added -length and coolness of the nights. Rain does not come, but the -mosquitoes disappear. The dawn is almost chilly; the system is refreshed -and invigorated. With the first heavy fall of rain a decided change of -temperature takes place. In those happier sections of the continent, -where this is the first cool month, the weather is all that can be -wished. 'Ces jours cristals d'automne,' so much beloved by Madame de -Sevigné at Petits Rochets, are reproduced. The friendly fireside—emblem -of domestic happiness—awaits but the first week of April to be once more -kindled. The plough is seen again upon the fallow fields. The birds -chirp, as if with fresh hope, from the reviving woodlands. Nothing is -needed but a rainfall for the full happiness of man and his humbler -fellow-creatures. May His mercy, so often shown at sorest need, not fail -us now! - -From what road-reports come across me, I gather that typhoid fever is no -infrequent visitor when the water becomes scarce, when sources are -polluted, and the carcases of the rotting stock lie strewed over larger -areas. Medical men seem to be at odds about the generation of this dire -disease. Fever germs, bacilli, bacteria, water pollution, direct -contagion,—all seem to have their advocates. It seems probable that -towards the end of a drought the very air, uncleansed by shower and -storm, becomes charged with disease germs. As to water pollutions, -sometimes the disease is at its fiercest before a heavy fall of rain, to -disappear almost magically afterwards. At other times the rain seems to -intensify the epidemic. The dry air of the interior, however hot, has -always been thought to be antagonistic to the disease. It has not proved -so of late years. Occasionally there is an outbreak of exceptional -virulence in some particular locality; but nothing has hitherto been -elicited as to the special conditions tending to produce or to aggravate -the disease. - -At and around Bourke matters seem approaching a crisis. Much of the -'made' water on the back blocks has failed of late, and the stock have -been brought into the 'frontage,' there to drink their fill, doubtless, -but to be utterly deprived of food as represented by the ordinary -herbage. If rain does not come within a month, dire destruction, worse -and more extensive than in any previous drought, _must_ take place; and -yet since 1866 I have so often heard the same prediction, and it was -_never_ fulfilled. In the meantime man can do nought but hope and pray, -if faith be his in the Divine Disposer of events. In days to come, a -comprehensive system of water supply may alleviate much suffering and -prevent misfortune; but though water may be secured and stored, the -sparse herbage of the boundless plain, the red-soiled forest, cannot be -so treated. Unless the rainfall be timely in these far solitudes, no -human energy or forecast can avert disaster. - - - A SPRING SKETCH - -In the saddle once more, and away for a week's journeying o'er the wide -Australian Waste! The springtime is again with us. The clouds have -dispensed their priceless moisture, albeit not all too generously. The -level sun-rays shine clear over leagues of bright-hued turf and -greenwood free. The pale, dawn-streaked azure was cloudless; the morning -air keenly crisp. All nature is now jubilant. The voice of Spring, faint -in tone but wildly sweet, is audible to the lover of nature. The cry of -birds, the rustling leaves in the tall trees that shade the winding -river, and the green waste of dew-besprinkled herbage, awaken thoughts -of long-dead years—of the season of youth—of the lost Aïdenn of the -heart's freshness. - -That Paradise we shall regain nevermore, ah me! But we must do our -devoir as best we may in these days of the aftertime. Many a mile must -be passed before nightfall, and we are a little short of time as usual; -but our steed is fleet and free, the livelong day is before us, and the -experienced cavalier can cover a long long stretch of woodland and plain -before latest twilight without distressing the good horse either. - -So we follow the winding waggon-tracks at only a moderate pace; -observing as we go, in plant-and bird-life, floweret and herb, visible -signs of development since our last acquaintance with them. The -beautiful bronze-winged pigeon flits shyly through the thickets to her -nest with its two white eggs, not unlike those of the tame congener. In -the brook-ponds or marshy shallows the blue heron, the pied ibis, and -the white spoonbill are wading or lounging, with the listless elegance -of their tribe. The gigantic 'brolgan' or 'Native Companion,' tallest of -Australian cranes, is to be seen in companies, ever and anon mirthfully -conversing or 'dancing high and disposedly' before his ranked-up -comrades. - -For all manner of wild-fowl this is the 'close season.' Marauding -teamsters, and others who should know better, now and then disregard the -law; but on the whole the statute is enforced. A season of rest permits -the black duck and the wood-duck, that smallest and most elegant of -geese (for such is the _Anas boscha_ in scientific nomenclature), the -shoveller, the teal, the imposing mountain-duck, to rear their broods in -peace. - -While we are environed by that darksome eucalyptus, the sombre -'iron-bark' of the colonists, the mournful balāh, and the -cypress-seeming pine, no token of the advancing spring greets us. 'A -fringe of softer green' may brighten the pine wood, but as yet the touch -of the magician's wand is unheeded. But as we speed towards the noonday, -and the great plains of the North-West spread limitless before us, the -frondage changes. The monotony of the endless champaign is broken by -clumps and belts of timber. And amid these welcome oases of leafage -might a botanist hold revel and delight his inmost soul. There is a -sprinkling of casuarina and pine, but these copses are crowded with new -and strangely-beautiful shrubs. First in pride of place comes the -wilgah, or native willow, a brightly-green umbrageous tree, with a short -upright stem and drooping salicene festoons, evenly cropped at the -precise distance that the stock can reach from the ground. There are few -lawns or meadows in Britain that would not be improved by the -transplantation of the wilgah from these untended gardens of the wild. -The mogil (native orange) is a dense-growing shrub, not wholly unlike -the prince of fruit- and flower-bearers; to complete the resemblance, it -is possessed of a fruit resembling in appearance only, faintly perhaps -in perfume, the European original. The leopard-tree, with spotted bark, -has for a comrade the beef-wood, with blood-red timber, almost bleeding -to the remorseless axe. The glaucous-foliaged myall, 'intense and -soulful-eyed,' with its swaying arms and drooping habit, looks like a -tree out of its mind. It boasts, with its more sturdy cousin, the -yarran, a strangely-powerful violet perfume. These, with thorn acacias -and delicate fringed-leaved mimosas, seem ready to burst into flower -with the next calm tropical day. An early-blooming acacia has made a -commencement; a shower of fresh, golden sprays illumines its tender -greenery. - -Here our pretty, pink-legged, pink-eyed flock-pigeons, with their crests -raised, and their pointed tails elevated as they perch, rejoin us. The -grey and crimson galāh parrots are still numerous. They have surely -delegated their nursery duties. They must pair and multiply, but, like -fashionable parents, manage to enjoy the pleasures of society -notwithstanding. - -The day is still young. The great flocks of merino sheep, running loose -in paddocks enclosed only by wire fences, have not arisen to commence -their daily round of nibbling. About five thousand are encamped near the -corner of an intersecting gate. Near them are the remnants of a leading -aboriginal family, in the shape of twenty or thirty 'red forester' -kangaroos, popularly called 'soldiers.' These curiously-coloured -marsupials are so bright of hue that one wonders whether they gradually -acquired the colour (_pace_ Darwin) so as to assimilate with the red -earth of the plains over which they bound. They do not trouble -themselves to go far out of my way—they simply depart from the road; and -in calmly crossing a track one of the flying does 'takes off' a yard -before she comes to it, and clearing the whole breadth without an -effort, sends herself over about twenty feet without disturbing her -balance. - -Early as the season is, long trains of wool-waggons, drawn by bullocks -or horses, are slowly crossing the plains. They carry from thirty to -fifty bales each, much skill of its kind being required to secure the -high-piled loads in position. At one rude hostelry I counted not less -than twelve bullock-waggons so laden. The teams—at that moment unyoked, -and feeding in a bend of the creek, from fourteen to eighteen in -each—made up a drove of nearly two hundred head. Their bells sound like -the chimes of a dozen belfries, pealing in contest. On the waggons, -drawn up with shafts towards the railway terminus, were, say, four -hundred bales of wool, representing a value of not less than six -thousand pounds. Each bale bore in neat legend the brand of the station, -with the weight, number, and class thereon imprinted, as 'J.R., Swan -Creek—No. 1120—First combing.' - -The last month enjoyed at least one sufficing fall of rain, not less -than two inches by the rain-gauge. It is hard to cause these salsiferous -wastes 'to blossom like the rose'; but a result closely analogous -invariably follows rainfall. Along the watercourses, the alluvial flats -and horseshoe 'bends' are ankle high with wild trefoil and -quick-springing grasses. The cotton-bush and salt-bush, perennial fodder -plants often most 'wild and withered' of attire even when fairly -nutritious to the flocks, put forth shoots and spikelets of a tender -appearance. All Nature, strange as her vestments may be, under a -southern sky, is full of the beauty and tenderness of the earth's -jubilee, joyous Spring. - -But surely we are impinging on the domain of the giant Blunderbore, -falsely alleged to have been slain by the irreverent Jack, prototype of -the modern 'larrikin' in his turbulent denial of authority. Yea, and -yonder plain is his poultry-yard. Hither come his cochins and dark -brahmas to be fed on corn as large as bullets, with tenpenny nails by -way of tonic. They walk softly along, lowering their lofty heads to the -earth, running too, occasionally, like dame Partlet, after a -grasshopper, and diversifying their attitudes like Chanticleer. We count -them, twenty-six in all, gigantic fowls able to pick the hat from your -head. They are emus! See the quarry, and neither hound nor hunter! When, -lo! from out the further belt of timber rides forth a band of horsemen. -They are shearers, bound on a holiday excursion. The preceding day has -been wet, and the supply of sheep consequently short. All are well -mounted, and look picturesque as they burst into a sudden gallop, and -every horse does its best to overtake the (figuratively) flying troop, -now setting to for real work. The pace is too good for the majority; but -one light weight, mounted on a long-striding chestnut, that probably has -ere now carried off provincial prizes, is closing on the apteryx -contingent. Another quarter of a mile—yes—no—by George!—yes. He has -collared the leader; he crosses and recrosses the troop. Had he but a -stockwhip or lasso he could wind either round one of the long necks so -invitingly stretched. But he has proved the superior speed of his horse. -Such a trial was said in old days to have sent to the training-stable -one of Sydney's still quoted race-horses. There is no need to kill -aimlessly one of the inoffensive creatures; and he pays an unconscious -tribute to the modern doctrine of mercy by drawing off and rejoining his -comrades. - -Further still our roving commission has carried us; we have halted at -the homestead of a great pastoral estate. A cattle-station in the days -when small outlay in huts and yards was fitting and fashionable, now it -has been 'turned into sheep,' as the phrase goes. A proprietor of -advanced views has purchased the place, less for the stock than for the -broad acres, and the improvement Genie has worked his will upon the -erstwhile somnolent wilderness. - -The change has been sweeping and comprehensive. The vast area of nearly -half a million of acres has been enclosed and subdivided by the -all-pervading wire-fencing. A couple of hundred thousand merinos, with a -trifle of forty thousand half-grown lambs, now graze at large, without a -shepherd nearer than Queensland. A handsome, well-finished house stands -by the artificial sheet of water, formed by the big dam which spans the -once meagre 'cowall' or anabranch of the main stream. - -A windmill-pump irrigates the well-kept garden, where oranges are in -blossom and ripening their golden globes at the same time. Green peas -and cauliflowers, maturing early, appeal to a lower æstheticism. The -stables, the smithy, the store, the men's huts, the carpenter's shop, -form a village of themselves; not a small one either. - -A quarter of a mile northward, backed up by a dense clump of pines, -stands the woolshed, an immense building with apparently acres of -roofing and miles of battened floors, £5000 to £6000 representing the -cost. It is now in full blast. We walk over with the centurion to whom -that particularly delicate commission, the captaincy of 'the shed,' has -been entrusted. It is by no means an ordinary sight. We ascend a few -steps at the 'top' of the shed, and look down the centre aisle, where -sixty men are working best pace, as men will only do when the pay is -high, and each man receives all he can earn by superior skill or -strength. - -They are chiefly young men, though some are verging on middle age, and -an old man here and there is to be seen. Scarcely any but born -Australians are on the 'board,' as the section devoted to the actual -shearing operation is termed. Though an occasional Briton or foreigner -enters the lists, the son of the soil has long since demonstrated his -superior adaptation to this task, wherein skill and strength are so -curiously blended. - -Watch that tall shearer half-way down the line. A native-born -Australian, probably of the second or third generation, he stands six -feet and half an inch, good measurement, in his stockings. His brawny -fore-arm is bare to the elbow. Broad-shouldered, deep-chested, -light-flanked, he would have delighted the eye of Guy Livingstone. You -cannot find any man out of Australia who can shear a hundred and fifty -full-grown sheep in a day—as he can—closely, evenly, with wonderful -seeming ease and rapidity. Like his horsemanship—a marvel in its way—it -has been practised from boyhood, and, as with arts learned early in -life, a perfection almost instinctive has resulted. - -The shearers proper are all white men. The pickers-up and sorters of the -fleece are a trifle mixed, the former being chiefly aboriginal blacks, -some of the latter Chinamen. In the pressing demand for labour which -obtains when a thousand sheds are at work, or preparing to shear, in the -early spring months, over the length and breadth of the land, the -inferior races find their opportunity. - -A pound a week, lodging, and a liberal diet-scale, render the shearing -season a kind of carnival for the proletariat, from the first fierce -gleam of the desert sun in July, till the mountain snow-plains are -cleared in January and February. - -There are eight men at the wool-table—a broad, battened platform—on -which the fleeces are spread, skirted, rolled up, and self-tied by an -ingenious infolding knack, thrown into the wool-sorter's narrow pathway, -and by him transferred to the separate bins of first and second combing, -clothing, super, etc. The next stage carries them to the wool-presses, -which somewhat complicated machinery, aided by skilled and experienced -labourers, turns out daily fifty to sixty neatest, compactest bales. -Thence on trucks propelled to the dumping-press, an hydraulic ram-driven -monster, which reduces them to less than half their former size, and -hoops them with iron bands. - -Waggon teams are in attendance at the dumping-sheds, and before sundown -much of the wool that was on the sheep's backs at sunrise will be loaded -up, or on the road to the railway terminus. - -Even that bourne of the weary wayfarer by coach, and the dusty, bearded -teamster, is shifting its position nearer and nearer annually to the -great central wilderness. As I ride homeward, the tents of navvy gangs -appear suddenly through the darkening twilight, in the midst of -pine-wood and wilgah brakes. The muffled thunder of blasts is borne ever -and anon through the rarely-vexed atmosphere, as the sandstone hills are -riven. But the central plain once reached, no work but the shallow -trench and the low embankment will be required for hundreds of miles. - -In a few years the great pastoral estates will have their own railway -platforms, within easy distance of the 'shed,' when possibly a tramway -thence to the dumping-room will be a recognised and necessary -'improvement.' When that day comes, shearers and washers will arrive by -train from the coast-range, or the 'Never Never' country; King Cobb will -be deposed or exiled; 'Sundowners' will be abolished; and much of the -romance and adventure of pastoral life will have fled for ever. - - - NEW YEAR'S DAY 1886 - -In the list of rambles, possible in the event of certain undefined -conditions coming to pass, one fairly-original project has always -commended itself to me. An overland tramp from Sydney to Melbourne in -the garb and character of a swagman seemed to offer special inducements. -Inexpensive as to wearing apparel and including a position not difficult -to keep up, the idea suggested health, variety, and adventure. From such -a standpoint all grades of society might be observed in new and striking -lights. - -Circumstances prevented me, during the present holiday season, from -carrying out this plan in its entirety. Nevertheless I found myself, in -company with the usual midsummer contingent of strangers and pilgrims, -in the metropolis of the southern colony; like them in quest of the rare -anodyne which deadens care and allays regret. And what a blessed and -salutary change is this from the inner wastes, the sun-scorched deserts, -whence some of us have emerged but recently! I am not going to cry down -the Bush, the good land of spur and saddle, of manly endeavour and -steadfast endurance, which has done so much for many of us; but after a -long cruise it is conceded that every sailor-man, from foremost Jack to -the Captain bold, needs a 'run ashore.' His health demands it; his -morale is, in the long run, not deteriorated thereby. For analogous -reasons those of us who dwell afar from the green coast-fringe, having -perhaps more than our share of sunshine, require a sea change. Every -bushman, gentle or simple, should compass an annual holiday, which I -recommend him to pass, if possible, in the colony where he does _not_ -habitually reside. - -'Home-keeping youth have ever homely wit' is an aphorism which has been -variously garbed. I endorse the dictum, with limitations. For the -removal of that insidious mental fungus, provincial prejudice, there is -no remedy like a moderate dose of travel. - -Chief among the luxuries in the nature of Christmas gifts with which the -wayfarer is presented on arrival in Melbourne may be reckoned an almost -total immunity from the heat tyranny. The thermometer registers a scale -usually associated with personal discomfort, but oppressiveness is -neutralised by certain adjuncts of civilisation—lofty houses, cool -halls, and shady trees. The ever-sighing sea-breeze—fair Calypso of the -desert-worn Ulysses—invites to soft repose; while the prevalence of ice, -as applied to the manufacture of comforting beverages, transforms thirst -into a disguised blessing. The glare of the noonday sun, so harmful to -the precious gift of sight, even to reason's throne, is here 'blocked,' -to use the prevailing idiom of the week, by a hundred cunning devices. -The marvels of capitalised industry, the results of science, the -miracles of art, are daily displayed. Old friends, new books, -freshly-coined ideas, strange sights, wonder-signs of all shades and -hues, press closely the flying hours. The tired reveller sinks into -dreamless rest each night, only to enter upon a fresh course of -enjoyment and adventure with the opening morn. - -I find myself following a multitude on one of the first days after -arrival, not 'to do evil,' it may be humbly asserted, but to behold the -Inter-Colonial Cricket Match. We step out past the Treasury and enter a -side alley of Eden. The broad, asphalted walk leads through an avenue of -over-arching elms—a close, embowered shade over which our enemy, the -sun, has scant power. Anon we cross a winding streamlet, rippling -through a gloom of fern-trees and a miniature tropical forest. There the -thrush and blackbird flit unharmed, the moss velvet carpets the dark -mould, and but a slanting sun-ray flecks the shadows from the -close-ranked lofty exotics—'a place for pleading swain and whispering -lovers made.' But the order of the day for all sorts and conditions of -men and maids is plainly Richmond Park. Only a few deserters are seen -from the ranks of the holiday-seeking army as we thread the leafy -defiles. Presently we emerge upon the unshaded road which, through the -Jolimont estate—erstwhile a Viceregal residence—conducts us to the -Melbourne cricket-ground. - -Here, truly, is a sight for unaccustomed eyes. The great enclosure -encircled by ornamental iron railings, larrikin proof, as I am informed, -its level, close-shaved green a turf triumph and species of enlarged -billiard-table as applied to cricket purposes. It is girdled by a ring -of well-grown oaks and elms, through which the glossy-leaved Norfolk -Island fig-trees, pushing their more lavish and intense foliage, -communicate a southern tone. - -I stand invested with the privileges of the pavilion, an imposing -three-storeyed edifice, containing all necessary conveniences for the -comfort of the athletes of the contest, as well as of their friends and -well-wishers, who are in the proud position of members. The arrangements -are liberal and comprehensive. Refreshment bars and luncheon tables, -lavatories, dressing-rooms, billiards, and other palliatives are here -provided, while on the western side are asphalted grounds, defended by -wire netting, where the votaries of the racquet and tennis-ball display -their skill. From the graduated tiers of seats in the lower or upper -rooms, as well as from the roof itself, a perfect view of the game may -be obtained; while on either side of the lawn, under cover or otherwise, -full provision is made for the comfort of the gentler sex, always -liberal in patronage of these popular contests. Around the remaining -portions of the enclosure, and protected from the _profanum vulgus_ by a -high iron fence, accommodation is provided for the rank and file of the -spectators, who, at a small cost, are admitted. - -The hour is come and the man. Twelve o'clock has struck. New South Wales -has won the toss. From the pavilion gate the manly form of Murdoch is -seen to issue, cricket-armoured, with trusty bat in hand. He enters the -arena amid general plaudits, followed by Alec Bannerman. Then forth file -the eleven champions of Victoria, who spread themselves variously over -the field. Palmer gives the ball a preliminary spin; Blackham stretches -his limbs and stands ready and remorseless—a cricketer's fate—behind the -wicket. The first ball is catapulted—swift speeding, with dangerous -break. Murdoch 'pokes it to the off' or 'puts it to leg,' and the great -encounter has commenced. - -Wonderful and chiefly comprehensible must it be to the uninitiated or -the foreigner to mark the rapt attention with which the performance is -viewed by the thousands of all classes and ages who are now gathered -around. Ten thousand people watch every flight of ball or stroke of bat -with eager interest, with prompt, instructed criticism. Wonderful order, -indeed a curious silence, for the most part, prevails. It is too serious -a matter for light converse. The interchange of opinion is conveyed with -bated breath; a narrow escape, to be sure, is noted with a sigh of -relief; a hit with cheers and clapping of hands. When the fatal ball -scatters the stumps, or drops into the hands of the watchful adversary, -one unanimous burst of applause breaks from the vast assemblage. His -Lordship the Bishop of Melbourne, who sits in one of the front seats -watching the scene with an air compounded of interest and toleration, -doubtless wishes that he could secure a congregation on great occasions -so large, so deeply observant, so closely critical, so sincerely -aroused. Doubtless his Lordship, conceding, with the kindly wisdom that -distinguishes him, that the people must have their recreations, would -admit that from no other spectacle could so many persons of all ranks -and ages, and both sexes, derive so large an amount of innocent -gratification. - -The 'cricket is so good' that several days elapse before the perhaps -somewhat too-protracted match is over. Heavy scoring on both sides in -the first innings. An exciting finish on the fifth day wrests the -chaplet temporarily from New South Wales. Victoria wins with three -wickets to go down. But those who are willow-wise aver that if—ah me! -those ifs—Spofforth and Massie had been there, the latter with the -advantage of the matchless wicket, another tale might have been told— - - From Fate's dark book a leaf been torn, - And Flodden had been Bannockbourne. - - * * * * * - -The bells have chimed on that fateful midnight when died the old year; -the radiant stranger is a crowned king. In the forenoon we turn our -steps westwards, and enter another of the parks with which this city has -been generously endowed. A holiday-loving race, certes, are we -Australians. Had Victoria been a Roman province, her populace would have -been regally furnished with _panem et circenses_, or known the reason -why. With the eight hours' system, high wages, and frequent holidays, -the working-man of the period, compared with his European brother, is an -aristocrat. But here we are once more on the Flemington race-course, and -of it, as of the Melbourne cricket-ground, we feel inclined to assert -(_pace_ Trollope) that it must be, in its way, the best in the world. - -Much thoughtful care has been bestowed upon the grounds, the buildings, -the adjuncts; much money spent since the old days, when it differed -little from an ordinary cattle-paddock. And the results are bewildering. -Whence this lovely lawn 'with verdure clad,' where, amid flowers and -fountains, crowds of well-dressed people stroll and linger, protected as -in their own gardens from inconvenient sound or sight? this broad, -smooth terrace-promenade below the Stand? this immense edifice, where in -sheltered comfort every stride of the race can be seen? these perfect -arrangements for the protagonists—brute and human—in the Olympian games -we have come to witness? Is this the place where often amid heat and -dust, not infrequently under soaking showers, the same sports have been -witnessed by the much-enduring crowd? or has the Eastern enchanter of -our boyhood carried off the ancient race-course bodily, and replaced it -with this garden of Armida? - -If the surroundings are complete, and the concomitants exhilarating, the -weather is delicious. All things have combined to make this first-born -of the opening year a day of days. The unobtrusive sun is merely warm; -the bright, blue sky softly toned by fleeting clouds; the sea-breeze -whispers of the wave's cool marge and ocean caves. - -'On such a day it were a joy to die,' and as in the first race—the -'Hurdle'—one beholds Sparke's rider pulling desperately at the chain-bit -in his horse's mouth, as he fights madly for the lead, it appears but -too probable that he is destined for the sacrifice. The violent -chestnut, however, contrary to an established theory, does not run -himself out, or smash his jockey. He retains the lead gallantly, and, -with the exception of a perilous bang over the last hurdle, touches -nothing. He wins the race from end to end, confounding the backers of -Lady Hampden and Vanguard, the latter horse having carried a hurdle on -his hocks for some distance, and so lost his very good show in the race. - -Archie wins the Bagot Plate, confirming his friends in their previous -good opinion. Those, however, who backed him for 'the Standish' on the -strength of it, are doomed to furnish another example of the 'you never -can tell' theory, as he is therein beaten by Mr. Charles Lloyd's -Chuckster. The remaining races are well contested, and many a good horse -extends himself ere the Criterion Stakes, the last race on the -programme, are won; but, curious to relate, one feels more interested in -the people nowadays than in the horses. The pleasant walks and talks, -which are possible in this equine paradise, detract from the keen -interest with which formerly the possible winners were regarded. Even -the luncheon at a friend's table (one of a series provided by the -Management), with its accompaniments of smiles, champagne, and lightsome -converse, takes its place as a principal event. Afternoon tea, not less -pleasant in its way, succeeds; after which function the mass of -handsomely-appointed equipages in the carriage enclosure begins to -disintegrate, driving up singly to the side entrance. Whether the beer, -presumably imbibed by the coachman, has got into the horses' heads, I am -unable to state; but the latter prefer the use of their hind-legs -temporarily. This effervescence, however, soon subsides. The -four-in-hands depart. Carriage after carriage rolls away; their -daintily-attired occupants are whirled off safely. _Nous autres_ take -the Flemington road, or fight for a railway seat; and a day of pleasure, -marked with a white stone for some of us, comes cheerily to an end. - - - - - A DRY TIME - - - As I ride, as I ride, - With a full heart for my guide. - - BROWNING. - -The moon has waxed and waned, yet one may not, in 1883, recall with the -poet - - The lonesome October - Of a most immemorial year, - -inasmuch as that month in these Southern wilds is for the most part a -gleesome, companionable time, rich in flower-birth and fruit-promise. -None the less, if the windows of heaven be not the sooner opened, the -present year of our Lord will be aught but immemorial in the chronicles -of the land. - -Surely the blessed dews of heaven, the rain for which in these arid -wastes all Nature cries aloud, will not long be denied. How clearly can -we realise the force of the strong Saxon of the Vulgate, 'And the famine -was sore in the land.' - -Here now exists the same hopeless, long-protracted absence of all -moisture which drove the Patriarch to 'travel' with his flocks and -herds, viz. camels and she-asses, his sons and their families, from -dried-out Canaan to the rich 'frontage' of the Nile. Here, as then, in -that far historic dawn, is dust where grass grew and water ran. Strange -birds crowd the scanty pools, while among the great hordes of live -stock, reared in plenteous seasons, the strong are lean and sad-eyed, -the weak are perishing daily with increasing rapidity. - -The hand of man, which has done so much to reclaim these wondrous -wastes, is powerless against Nature's cruel fiat. None can do more than -wait and pray; for the end must come, when the days shorten and the -nights grow cold, even in this summer land; and utter, unredeemed ruin -is the goal towards which many of the proprietors have perforce turned -their eyes these many weary months past. - -The fair but fleeting promise of the bygone month has been unredeemed. -Only a few days of the threatening sun have sufficed to wither the -tender herbage, the springing plantlets which essayed to cover the baked -soil. The broad road seems that veritable way to Avernus, so bare, -sun-scorched, adust is it, for hundreds of leagues. Far away one may -note its swaying deflections, and hold a parallel course, guided solely -by the well-nigh continuous dust-line of the waggon-trains. - -Yet, maugre the terrors of the time, certain feathered inhabitants have -their provision secured to them. How else trip and flit from myall twig -to pine bough, bright-eyed and fearless, this pair of delicious tiny -doves? The most exquisitely formed and delicately lovely of all the -Columba family, they are, perhaps, the smallest—not larger than the -brown bush-quail. Not half the size of the crested pigeon, there is a -family resemblance in the fairy pink legs, the pointed tail, the bronze -bars of the wing-feathers, the tones of the soft, azure breast. By no -means a shy bird, as if conscious that few fowlers could be cruel to the -hurt of so delicate a thing of beauty, so rare a feathered gem, in these -stern solitudes. - -Not that all the tribes of the air can be described as beautiful and -harmless. Riding slowly through a belt of timber, musing, it may be, on -the undeserved sorrows of the lower animals, I am suddenly and violently -assaulted—'bonneted,' as the humorous youth of the period has it. I -clutch my hat just in time to save it from being knocked off. There are -two round holes near the brim, which I had not previously observed, and -a cock magpie is flying back to his station on a tree hard by, much -satisfied in his mind. It is a well-known habit of this bold, aggressive -bird in the breeding season. He keeps watch, apparently, the livelong -day, hard by the nest, and, pledged to drive away intruders, is no -respecter of persons. Long years since, the present writer was similarly -attacked; when essaying to lift his hat some hours afterwards, and -finding resistance, he discovered that the bird's beak had penetrated -the felt and inflicted a smart cut. Blood had actually been shed, and, -having dried, caused adhesion. The 'piping crow,' as ornithologically -the magpie of the colonies is designated, is not truly a magpie at all. -He is carnivorous and insectivorous. Withal a handsome bird, with glossy -raven breast and back, and most melodious, flute-like carol, at earliest -morn and eve. He is easily tamed, and in captivity learns to talk, to -whistle, and even to swear with clearness and accuracy—more particularly -the last accomplishment. As a member of the household, he exhibits great -powers of adaptation, has the strongest conviction as to his rank and -position, despises children, whose undefended legs he pecks, and will -engage in desperate combat with dog or cat, turkey or gamecock. An -Australian naturalist of eminence gives his testimony to the courage -with which a tame bird of the species relieved the tedium of a -homeward-bound voyage by its constant duels with such gamecocks as the -coops produced. - -Feeding in the open plain, and in a leisurely way inspecting the sparse -vegetation with an eye to grasshoppers, strolls a bustard with his mate. -This noble game-bird, the wild turkey of the colonists, is fully equal, -perhaps superior, in flavour to his tame congener. Longer in neck and -limb, crane-like of head, the plumage presents several points of -resemblance which justifies his title to the name. He has also the trick -of strutting with drooped wings and outspread tail before the female. -Shy and difficult of approach by the sportsman on foot, he is easily -circumvented by riding or driving around in circles, gradually -narrowing, when an easy shot is gained. - -A reminiscence arises here of the regal sport of hawking enjoyed in -connection with a bird of this species. Hard hit with double B, he found -it difficult to rise above the tall grass of the marshy plain where he -had been stalked, though gradually gaining strength. As he cleared the -reed-tops, a wedge-tailed eagle (the eagle-hawk of the colonists) -swooped down from airy heights and dashed at the huge bird like a merlin -at a thrush. Very nearly did the 'lammergeier' make prize of him, but -the long sweep of the bustard's wing kept him ahead. Presently he got -'way on,' assisted by a slight breeze. Down the wind went hawk and -quarry, neck and neck, so to speak, while the sportsman put his horse to -speed, going straight across country, with head up and eyes fixed on the -pair, as they gradually rose higher in the sky. Ever and anon the eagle -would make a dash at the wounded bird, but whether the temporary shock -had only staggered him, or that it was nature's last effort, the edible -one soared away far and fast, eventually disappearing from our gaze. - -While on the subject of hawking, there is little doubt that the 'aguila' -referred to might be trained to fly at the larger game—turkeys, geese, -kangaroo, and emu—while the smaller falcons, which are sufficiently -plentiful, might be equally effective in pursuit of the traditional -heron. The beautiful blue crane of the colonists (_Ardea Australis_) is -found in every streamlet and marsh, as also the spoonbill, the white -crane (snowy of hue, and with curious fringing wing-feathers), not -forgetting the bittern. - -Young Australia, gentle or simple, might find worse employment than -riding forth in the fresh morn of the early summer, with hawk on wrist, -inhaling even this faintest flavour of the romance of the great days of -chivalry. - -On the broad, still reaches of the river, or the wide sheets of water -artificially conserved, behold we the pelican, in no wise differing in -appearance from the traditional dweller in the wilderness. Whether the -Australian is unselfishly prodigal in the matter of heart's blood in -favour of her young is difficult of proof, forasmuch as no living man, -apparently, ever sets eyes on a youthful pelican. In the untrodden -deserts which surround the heart of the continent is popularly deemed to -lie the haunt of the brooding bird; and an Australian poetess has -mourned the fate of the gallant brothers—bold and practised -explorers—last seen on their way to the unknown, half-mystic region, -'where the pelican builds her nest.' - -As the hot breath of the fast-coming summer proves yet more deadly to -every green thing, the pelican flocks sail coastward in great numbers -from their failing streams and marshes. With them comes the beautiful -black swan—'rara avis in terra,' but here an everyday sight—graceful, -with scarlet beak, wreathed neck, and 'pure cold webs'; the wild, -musical note clanging from the soaring, swaying files cleaving the -empyrean. Rarely-seen waders and swimmers are of the contingent if the -'weather holds dry'—a wayworn, far-travelled host, priceless to the -naturalist could he but observe them. - -Let but the stern drought continue unbroken, all-heedless of man and his -great army of dependants, through the brief spring, the long summer—till -the days shorten and (even here) the nights grow cold—unprecedented -losses must occur in certain localities. Still, hope is not dead. The -dry zone is restricted in area. Outside and around it, what the -shepherds term 'fine storms' have refreshed the pastures. Even yet there -is corn in Egypt.[4] There is grass and to spare beyond the Queensland -border. Thither will many a sorely-oppressed proprietor send a section -of flock or herd, availing himself of the time-honoured institution of -'travelling for feed.' Such, neither more nor less, was the last resort -of those grand historic sheiks of the desert, even Abraham and Lot, when -'the land was not able to bear them'; and to such an alternative must -the latter-day, salt-bush sheik turn in his need, or see his live stock -perish before his eyes, in thousands and ten thousands. - -Footnote 4: - - There is no corn in Egypt now (as far as Queensland is referred to) it - must be admitted with deep regret. The famine in the land has reached - the biblical record of 'seven years of drouth.' - -He will improvise a nomadic establishment with dray and tent, shepherds -and cooks, stock-riders and bullock-drivers, horses and cattle, -everything save camels, needed in a patriarchal migration. Even these -last ungainly thirst-defiers are now bred in Australia. Hard by the -tropic he will pass into a land of grass prairies and flooded -streams—the promised land of the desert-worn hosts. He will here find -himself—'most ingenious paradox'—in a region where live stock are -high-priced, but where 'country' is cheap. He will rent, perhaps -purchase another run. The drought which drove him forth may so and in -such manner make his fortune yet. Let us hope so, in all sympathy and -good fellowship. There he will reach his haven of rest. He may sell out -again, or decide to cast in his fortunes with the newer colony, but in -any case he will remain there until, as far as King Sol is concerned, -'this tyranny be over-past.' - - - - - AUSTRALIAN COLLIES - - -In the stage of the early history of New South Wales, when her -increasing herds bid fair to overspread the waste, the dog, his ancient -and faithful servant, came to the aid of man. The Scotch collie, friend -of the lonely hill-shepherd in North Britain from time immemorial, was -unanimously elected to fill the responsible position—not, however, as -being the only available canine connected with stock management, for the -Smithfield drover's dog had also emigrated, that wonderful stump-tailed -animal, which managed to keep his master's cattle separate at the great -London mart, though thousands of beeves be around, unfenced and -unyarded. Matchless in his own department, he was gradually superseded -by the collie, which came to the front as a better all-round dog, more -intelligent, faithful, and companionable; when trained, equally suitable -for the 'working' of sheep or cattle. - -The breed, at first pure as imported, became crossed with other -varieties of the multiform genus _Canis_, and so suffered partial -deterioration. Still, such was the original potency of the collie -proper, that many of the mongrels, even the product of the ovicidal -'dingo,' were excellent workers, in some instances even superior to -their pure-bred comrades. The climate, too, appeared to be favourable to -the breed. The Australian offspring of the imported collies were -handsome, vigorous animals, with correct 'flag and feather,' yet -reproducing the traits of fidelity and human attachment concerning which -so many a tale was told, poem written, and picture painted in the old -land. The 'harder' or fiercer animals were chosen for cattle work, and -being bred for the qualities of 'heeling,' and even doing a mild -imitation of bull-baiting on occasions, became almost a distinct breed. -In the old-fashioned cattle districts, like Monaro and the Abercrombie -River, where in early days a sheep was never seen, the cattle dogs—true -collies in appearance and extraction—were very different in their -manners and customs from their sheep-guiding relatives of the settled -districts, whose 'bark was (so much) worse than their bite.' - -It was quite the other way with the cattle dogs. They were encouraged to -'heel' or bite the fetlocks of the stubborn, half-wild cattle, in a way -which bustled them along as crack or cut of stockwhip could never -effect. In the case of a breaking beast they would hang on to his tail, -and perhaps, when bringing back a wild yearling to the yard, assault -tail, heels, nose, and ears impartially, with dire results. They ran -their chance of being kicked or horned at this rough-and-tumble game, -but from practice became exceeding wary of these and other dangers. A -cattle dog has been seen to 'work' (or help drive) a drove of horses, -heeling when desired to do so most impartially, and yet managing to keep -clear of the dangerous kicks which the half-wild colts aimed at him. -Every man of experience with stock will bear testimony to the admirable -service which a good cattle dog will perform. Wearied and -low-conditioned droves they will 'move' in a way which no amount of whip -and shouting will effect. On the other hand, where caution and diplomacy -are required, their sagacity is astonishing. - -I once had occasion, 'in the forties,' to drive a small lot of fat -cattle some days' journey to a coast town in Western Victoria. They had -come to me in a deal, and I wished to turn them into cash. It was a good -way from home. The vendors simply 'cut them out' from the camp, -accompanied me to the Run boundary, and gave me their blessing. I had no -mate but an ancient cattle dog. It may be surmised by the experienced -how many times the home-bred cattle tried to break back. Again and again -I thought they would have beaten me. I kept one side, the dog Peter the -other, necessarily. Had either rashly caused a separation the game was -up. It was beautiful to see the old dog's generalship. If a beast -diverged on his side, he would walk solemnly out, keep wide and dodge -him in with the smallest expenditure of voice or emotion. By this time -some of the others would be looking back, preparatory to a dash -homeward. These he would hustle up promptly, just sufficiently and no -more. That I was watchful on my side needs no telling; an occasional tap -or whipcrack kept them going. Even fat cattle know when the stockwhip is -absent. We—I say it advisedly—yarded them safely that night, when a -well-managed hostelry consoled me for the frightful anxiety I had -undergone. Next day they travelled more resignedly, and the third night -saw them delivered to 'the man of flesh and blood' in Portland, and, -what was better still, paid for. - -In the Port Fairy district, then chiefly devoted to cattle, were many -famous cattle collies. Old Mr. Teviot at Dunmore had three I remember, -their peculiarity being that they understood nothing but Lowland Scotch, -in which dialect they had, though Australian by birth, been trained. -'Far yaud' (as Dandie Dinmont says), and other mysterious commands, -wholly unintelligible to us youngsters, they understood and obeyed -promptly. But it was amusing to watch the air of surprise or -indifference with which they regarded the stock-riders, who sometimes in -time of need suggested 'Fetch 'em along, boy!' or 'Go on outside.' Like -most people to whom dogs are wildly attached, Mr. Teviot was austere of -manner towards them, feeding regularly, but permitting no familiarity. -How they loved him in consequence! If returning from a trip to the -township after dark, they would listen for the footfall of his horse, -and long before human ear caught the far, faint sound, would rise up -solemnly and walk half a mile or more along the road to greet him. These -dogs were popularly credited with being able to do anything but talk, -and were renowned throughout the country-side for their obedience and -thorough comprehension of their owner's wishes. - -I once owned a cattle collie of great intelligence, by name Clara, the -daughter of a one-eyed female of the species, celebrated for her -'heeling' propensities. The mother was uncertain as to temper, and was -often soundly chastised by her owner for erratic work or short-comings. -After a good flogging she jumped up and fawned upon him with the fondest -affection, thus verifying the ancient adage. But Clara was a gentle and -kindly creature though a good driver, and in all respects strangely -intelligent, a handsome black and tan as to colour. In yard work she -showed out to the greatest advantage. Always keenly observant at such -times, and curiously eager to assist—leaving a very young family on one -occasion. One day in particular a panel of the stock-yard was broken; -there was no time for repairs. But Clara was on guard, and there she -stayed, never letting a beast through till the drafting was over. - -Poor Clara! she met with an early death. Coming back from a muster, she -was forgotten in the hurry and bustle. The weather was hot; the distance -greater than usual. It was supposed that she died of thirst, or was -killed by the dingoes, for she was never seen alive afterwards. - -Peter, a Sydney-side dog, brought down by his owner before 1840 or -thereabouts, with some of the early herds, was probably one of the -cleverest animals in his way that ever followed a beast. His owner was a -Sydney native of the 'flash gully-raking sort,' from whom probably Peter -had received his education in indifferent company. We judged this from -the cautious and unobtrusive way in which he went about his work. He was -a medium-sized, dark-coloured dog, wiry and active. He was not fond of -working for any one but his master, who could make him do all sorts of -queer things. When he came into the kitchen and the maidservants chaffed -him, he had only to whisper 'Heel 'em, Peter!' and the next minute the -girls would be screaming and scampering, with Peter's teeth very close -to their ankles. When tired—and they often travelled far and fast—he -would come to the horse's fore-leg and beg to be taken up. Pulled up to -the pommel of the saddle, he would sit upright, quite gravely, leaning -against his master until he was sufficiently rested; then, when dropped -to earth, he would go to work with amazing vigour. If any particular -beast kicked him, he would wait till there was a crush at a gate, and -'heel' that very animal to a certainty at a time when it was impossible -to retaliate. - -The collie, on the other hand, whom fate had destined to a less romantic -association with sheep, was trained and exercised differently. He was -expected to guide and intimidate his timorous, delicate, though often -frantic and obstinate charge chiefly by the sound of his voice and a -threatening manner. Biting was forbidden under severe penalties. -'Working wide'—that is, continually running beyond, ahead, outside of -the flock, which was therefore turned, stopped, or directed—was -inculcated in every possible way. It is to be noted that the fashion is -chiefly inherited, the untrained puppy of pure blood doing most of it as -naturally as the pointer puppy lifts his fore-leg. A slight nip now and -then in driving weary or obstinate sheep is permitted, but nothing -approaching injury to the easily-hurt flock. It is an interesting sight -to mark a trained collie walking back and forward in the rear of a large -flock, intimating to them as plainly as possible without speech that -they are to move along steadily in a given path, and, though permitted -to nibble as they go, by no means to straggle unduly. - -Then observe that shepherd with his flock of, say, two or three -thousand. If strong and in good order, the 'head' will string out fully -half a mile in advance of the 'body' and 'tail.' If left alone they will -soon be out of sight at the rear-guard. Then a division would follow, -and once away, after nightfall, wild dogs and dangers are on every side -of them. Nor could the shepherd on foot, as he is always, run round -ahead and turn them. By the time he reached the head, the tail would be -marching in a different direction. When he turned them, the head would -be gone again, etc. etc. - -But mark the dog! Despatched by a wave of the hand, he races off at full -speed. He flies round the scattered sheep, keeping wide, however, and so -consolidating them, until he reaches the leaders, which, directly they -see him, scurry back to the centre of the flock. Returning, he walks -dutifully behind, with the air of one who has fulfilled his mission. In -half an hour perhaps the same performance is repeated. In the middle of -the day, if warm, the flock indulges in a 'camp' by a water-hole or -other suitable locality. As it feeds home to the yard, very little of -the morning activity is observed. Our collie, while watchful and ready -for a lightning dash at a moment's notice, walks soberly behind, -evidently contented with the day's work. - -As the New Zealand shepherd, a man in his best years of strength and -activity, is a different man from the elderly and often feeble shepherd -of Australia, so the collie of Maoriland, having to climb rock-strewn -defiles, and search amid glacier plateaux and savage solitudes, for the -scattered, half-wild flocks, has an air of seriousness and -responsibility. There is but little frolic and gamesomeness about _him_. -The dogs of Ettrick and Yarrow, accustomed to snow and the blasts of an -iron winter, claim kinship with him. Compelled to act on his own -discretion, he tracks outliers, finds and collects his flock in all -weathers. - -'Sirrah, ma mon, they're awa!' says James Hogg to his wonderful collie, -the 'dark-grey puppy' that he bought for a pound, if I mistake not. The -dog, in the drear darkness of a snowstorm, goes forth, and hours -afterwards is found guarding the four hundred lost lambs, not one being -missing. - -So when muster-day comes, the New Zealand collie makes for the mountain -peaks: on the lonely plain far above the snow-line, where in severe -seasons a hundred sheep may be found dead and frozen, he beats and -quarters his country, till he finds and brings down to the appointed -place all the straggling lots that may have summered there. - -Independently of the qualities necessary for the successful mobilisation -of sheep, the collie is, perhaps, of all the sub-varieties of the canine -race, the most faithful and sympathetic. Time after time has one -observed the tramping shepherd or swagman and his dog. Poor and -despised, 'remote, unfriended, melancholy, slow,' the forlorn wayfarer -had one staunch friend—one faithful ally—that regarded not his poverty, -his lowly condition, his lack of self-denial. Who has not marked the -tramp asleep _sub Jove_ at daylight, with scant shelter or covering, his -watchful dog sitting near, prepared to show his teeth, or indeed do -something more, at the nearer approach of the stranger? The dog of the -imprisoned shepherd, immured by Sir Hugo de Pentonville for inebriety, -lies stretched disconsolately before the prison gate, howling at -intervals, apparently in deepest despair, betraying on the other hand -the most frantic joy at his release. The railway favourite goes heavily, -mourning as unmistakably as a Christian—more sincerely than some—in -abstracted gloom, melancholy gait, and aimless daily search for his -master, untimely slain by the remorseless Juggernaut. A hundred times -has one caught the watchful eye of affection with which the collie -regards his ragged owner, as if fearing to lose the least word or -gesture. - -And though the recipients of this unstinted devotion rarely appear to -appreciate the gift so lavishly bestowed, it must be recorded, for the -honour of human nature, that instances of the contrary _do_ occur. But -the other day, a lonely pilgrim, who had been ailing few weeks past, was -found by the good Samaritan, cold in death, with his arm _round his -dog's neck_. A shepherd will carry the young family of his (female) -collie, born during a journey, tied in a handkerchief, at much -expenditure of toil and trouble. In many an instance blood feuds, savage -conflicts ending in manslaughter—suicides even—have occurred, connected -with injustice, real or fancied, to the 'dawg.' 'Love me, love my dog,' -is an ancient adage by no means without force in Australia. But recently -a farmer deliberately shot a neighbour whom he accused, wrongfully or -otherwise, of killing his dog. Prior to that occurrence a shepherd, -noticed to be despondent for days past, telling one inquirer that some -one had poisoned his dog, _hanged himself_. - -Touching the price of a really good dog, it may range from two pounds to -twenty—an owner often declaring that he would not part with his dog for -the last-named sum. Within the present month, indeed, two legal -processes, to the writer's knowledge, have been put in force in the -collie interest. In one case £10 was sued for as being the value of a -cattle dog, alleged to have been illegally poisoned. The other was -nothing less than a 'Search-warrant for stolen goods and chattels,' -commanding the Sergeant of Police and all constables of Bundabah to make -diligent search, in the daytime, at the residence of the man referred -to, whose name is not known, but who can be identified, for the said -black collie slut, named in the information as 'feloniously stolen, -taken, and carried away as aforesaid, and if you find the same, that you -secure the said black collie slut, and bring the person in whose custody -you find the same before me, or some other justice of the -peace.—(Signed) JOHN JONES, J.P.' - -At the annual pastoral and agricultural shows, the trial of sheep dogs -has never-failing interest for the spectators. Most curious is it to -note the gravity with which each competing collie essays to drive three -wildish paddocked sheep into a very small fold of hurdles. - -The free exhibition of strychnine, rendered necessary by the incursions -of the dingo, and, 'sorrow it were and shame to tell,' by the increase -of foxes, has led to the death of many a valued collie. But good animals -are now carefully looked after. Greater attention is paid to breeding. -Dogs of the best strains are annually imported. And as the ranks of -Australian collies are thus recruited with pure blood and high-class -animals, it is not too much to assert, that as a stock dog, our -Australian collie is not inferior to his British ancestors, while he may -claim even a wider range of accomplishments and experience. - - - - - IN THE BLOOM OF THE YEAR - - -The first week of December! And seeing that we are in the realm of -Australia, in the district of Riverina, where the season has been wet, -which is 'dry country' English for triumphantly prosperous, also that -vegetable growth is at its acme, we regard our title as fully justified. - -All plant-life is now profusely, riotously luxuriant. A drenching -winter, following a wet autumn, preceded a late, showery spring; thus, -and because of which, the pastures and cornfields, the orchards and -gardens, are rich with verdure and promise to a degree unknown since the -proverbial year of 1870. - -Some few sultry days have we had, but the true Australian summer has -not, so far, appeared in its lurid, wasting splendour. Hardly a ripening -tinge is yet visible on the wide-waving prairies, the bespangled -meadows, the shaded forest lawns. Wild flowers of every shape and -hue—blue and scarlet, pink and orange, white and yellow, perfumed or -scentless—glorify the landscape. - -As we drive along, this balmy, breezy, sun-bright day, through the -champaign, which lies anear and around an inland country town, let us -(if haply it may tend to dispel some small portion of the ignorance of -our British friends as to the 'bush of Australia') put on record the -'scenes and sounds of a far clime' in this season of the year. - -The wheat crops, standing strong and level for leagues around, as high, -generally, as the rail fence which protects them, have not as yet been -assailed; but the reaper and binder has made many a foray into the -hayfields. Here we notice one of the results of machinery. In the -majority of instances the oats, though green of hue, are in sheaves and -stooks. The time-honoured spring romance of fragrant haycocks is -hastening to its doom, inasmuch as the greater portion of the oat-crop -saved is intended to be reduced into chaff, as being more portable or -saleable in that form. It is obviously better economy, by using the -reaper and string-binder, to have it arranged mechanically in sheaves -and hand-placed in stooks. It is then more convenient for loading, -stacking, and the final operation of the chaff-cutter. Most of these -sheaves are six feet and over in height. Heavy-headed, too, withal. We -were informed that four tons of chaff to the acre is not an uncommon -yield this year. The lambs, which are running with their mothers in the -great enclosures, wire-fenced and ring-barked as to timber, through -which the high road passes, are wonderfully well-grown and -healthy-looking. The percentage, averaging from eighty to ninety, is -exceptionally high, when it is considered that the expense of tendance -is nominal. From five to seven thousand ewes—even more sometimes—are -running in each paddock, unwatched and untended till marking-time, -thence to the shearing, which is also the weaning period. This year the -shepherd-kings have a right royal time of it, though not more than -sufficient to compensate them for the losses and crosses of the last -decade. Apropos of this woolly people, here approaches an aged shepherd. -He is mounted, so that he has received his cheque. Solvent and resolved, -he is journeying to the town, on pleasure bent, of a rational nature let -us hope. The flies of mid-day are troublesome, but he has a net-veil -round his weather-beaten face; so has the steady veteran steed. The -collie, following dutifully, is unprotected from flies, but accoutred -with a wire muzzle—not, as the young lady from the city supposed, to -prevent his biting the sheep, but lest he should swallow the -innocent-seeming morsel of meat by the wayside, intended for vagrom -canines, and containing the deadly crystals of strychnine. Certes, with -plenteousness the land runs o'er, this gracious year of our Lord 1887. -The cattle lounging about the roads—the roads, like the fields, -knee-deep in thick green grass—with their shining coats and plump -bodies, testify to the bounty of the season. The birds call and twitter. -The skylark, faint reflex as he is of his English compeer, yet mounts -skyward and sings his shorter lay rejoicingly. The wild-duck, gladsome -and unharmed, swims in the meres which here and there divide the river -meadows. The fat beeves in the paddock ruminate contemplatively, or -recline around some patriarchal tree. All nature is joyous; the animated -portion 'rich in spirits and health,' the vegetable contingent spreading -forth and burgeoning in unchecked development. As we pass Bungāwannāh, -one of the large estates, formerly squattages, which alternate with the -farms and smaller pastoral holdings, a fallow doe with her fawn starts -up from the long grass, gazing at us with startled but mildly-timid eye. -They are outliers from a herd of nearly a hundred, which have increased -from a few head placed there by a former proprietor. - -In this our Centennial year it must be conceded that Australia is a land -of varied products. We pass orchards where the apples are reddening -fast, where apricots are turning pink, and the green fig slowly filling -its luscious sphere. We note the vivid green of the many-acred -vineyards, now in long rows, giving an air of formal regularity to the -cultivated portion of the foreground. Then we descry the dark green and -gold of an orangery, hard by the river-bank—in this year a most -profitable possession to the proprietor. - -Amid this abundance we miss one figure sufficiently familiar to the -traveller in other lands, or the European resident, viz. 'the poor man.' -He may be somewhere about, but we do not encounter him. He does not -solicit alms, at any rate. His nearest counterpart is the swagman or -pedestrian labourer. He is differentiated from the shearer and the -'rouseabout' (the shearing-shed casual labourer), who travel, the former -invariably, the latter occasionally, on horseback. But the humble -dependant upon the aristocratic squatter or prosperous farmer is a -well-fed, fairly well-dressed personage, who affords himself an -unlimited allowance of tobacco. Say that he elects to journey afoot in -an equestrian country, he needs pity or charity from no man. - -When one thinks of England, with its three hundred souls to the square -mile, one cannot but be thankful, in spite of the ignorant, insolent -diatribes of the Ben Tillett agitator class, for the condition of the -labouring classes in this favoured country. They are at a premium, and -will be for years to come, while tens of thousands of acres of arable -land are awaiting the hands which shall clear and plant them. Meanwhile, -a small annual rent is obtained for the State by means of purely -pastoral possession—a form of occupation destined to be surely, if -slowly, superseded by agriculture, when demanded by the needs of a more -developed epoch and a denser population. - -This particular district has for many years been settled after a fashion -which permits of moderate-sized holdings. For a lengthened period, -therefore, have the exotic trees and shrubs, which even the humblest -farms boast, grown and flourished. The tall, columnar poplars, the wavy, -tremulous aspens, the umbrageous elms, are large of girth, stately of -height, and broad of shade. They are to be seen around the farm-house, -or near the mansion which peeps out amid wood and meadow. Here a row of -stately elms borders the roadside, affording a grateful shade to the -weary wayfarer. The season has been exceptionally humid, as when - - Low thunders bring the mellow rain - Which makes thee broad and deep. - -Yet the oak is not so common. Slow of growth, he does not seem to -assimilate himself to all soils, although in a few localities he may be -observed doing no discredit to his British comrades. The lime, the -Oriental plane, the ash, the willow, and the sycamore proclaim the -generous nature of the soil and climate which they have reached, so far -across the foam. Besides these are the noble _Paulownia imperialis_, -majestic with gigantic leaves and purple-scented flowers; the catalpa -and even the magnolia, beauteous and fragrant—a botanic miracle. The -olive grows rapidly, forgetting oft in eagerness to add branch to branch -to mature the fruit, which will one day furnish a valuable export. - -All these with others in this last season are spreading their green -pennants to the summer breeze—grateful in shade to the traveller wearied -and adust; beautiful to the eye of the lover of all plant-life; 'things -of beauty and of joy for ever,' even to those whose sense of harmonious -landscape-arrangement is rudimentary and undeveloped. - -We halt for an instant on the verdant level, hard by the little creek -whose waters, this gracious year, run yet with musical monotone, to -watch the drivers of these high-piled waggons, who are even now -unloosing their teams. There are five waggons, which, with wheels of the -adamantine iron-bark eucalyptus, are warranted to carry the heaviest -loads procurable; and heavy loads they are. Forty bales of wool in each, -or thereabouts. Sixty or seventy horses in the five teams, all 'grade' -Clydesdales or Suffolks, and averaging in value from £25 to £35 each. -The 200 bales of wool are worth, say at £20 each, £4000; £1500 for the -team horses; £300 for the waggons. A not inconsiderable total of values. -Stay! In haste we have forgotten the sixty sets of harness and the -tarpaulins,—£5000 or £6000 in all. A large property to be in the hands -of five young fellows hardly known to the proprietor of the freight. It -is fortunate that there are no robber barons at this time of day to -demand tribute, or land pirates and buccaneers, _except those who -collect the intercolonial protective duties_. - -The hare which runs across the road in front of us is an introduced, -imported animal, like the deer we saw a while back. He is becoming -numerous, but, unlike his cousin and comrade, 'Brer Rabbit,' has not -been disastrously destructive. The settlers eat him at present. 'Brer -Rabbit' in some districts has commenced to reverse the process. - -Among the manifold natural beauties of the season we must by no means -omit the hedgerows; in beauteous blossom these, and though, perhaps, -chiefly too wild and luxuriant, yet affording pleasing contrast to the -bare utilitarianism of rail and wire fence, and the monotony of the -barked, murdered woods. Various are they, ranging from the dark green of -the hawthorn, lovely with sweet souvenir bloom of long-past English -springs, to the pink flower-masses of the quince, the crimson showers of -the rose-hedges, and the yellow hair of the _Acacia armata_; while high, -towering, thorny, impervious, with brightest glittering greenery, grows -the Osage orange—a transatlantic importation, which in some respects is -the most effective green wall known, being a species of live barbed -wire, with an agreeable appearance of leafage, yet exuding a bitter -juice, which prevents its mutilation by live stock. All these, -interspersed occasionally with the sweetbriar, the scent and wild-rose -flower of which almost atone for its predatory habits, its illegal -occupation of Crown Lands. In one instance an economical or patriotic -farmer had permitted the fast-growing eucalyptus saplings to interlace -his 'drop' fence—an effective and not wholly unpicturesque road border. - -From time to time amid the larger enclosures we came across a -half-forlorn, half-picturesque patch 'where once a garden smiled.' A -roofless cottage, a score of elms and poplars, with straggling -rose-bushes abloom among the thistles, mark the abandoned homestead. In -the 'distressful country' these would be the signs of an eviction. Here, -when Michael or Patrick unhouses himself, he does so with a comfortable -cheque in his pocket and the wherewithal to 'take up' a larger holding, -perhaps six hundred and forty acres, or even in the central district, -two thousand five hundred, by the payment in cash to the Crown—of how -much does the reader unlearned in the New South Wales land laws believe? -Two shillings per acre! The remaining balance of eighteen shillings per -acre to be paid in twenty years, with interest at five per cent, or -_ninepence_ per acre annually! The neighbouring landholder has bought -out honest Pat or Donald, or François or Wilhelm, as the case may -be—several nationalities being here represented—giving him a handsome -profit in cash for his labour and outlay. The fences are then pulled -down, the roof falls in, the elms, the poplars, with a few peach-trees -and roses, alone remain to tell the tale of the deserted homestead. As -we pass one of these, a grand cloth-of-gold bush, six feet and more in -height, hanging over a fence, tempts us with its fragrant clusters. We -choose a lovely bud and an opening flower, with its curiously-blended -shades of gold and faintest pink, and, much moralising, go our way. - -In the good old days, when there was no salvation outside of vast -pastoral holdings, when small freeholds were considered not only -inexpedient but immoral, this was held to be a waterless region, unfit -for the habitation of man, away from the river frontage. Now near every -farm appears a dam or other successful method of conserving water. The -homesteads, too, are well built, and substantial for the most part, -standing in neatly-kept gardens and fruitful orchards. Milch kine graze -in the fields or stroll about the grassy roadways, sleek-skinned, -well-bred, and profitable-looking. - -No indications save those of comfortable living and easy-going rural -prosperity present themselves. Buggies or tax-carts with active horses, -driven mostly by farmers' wives or daughters, trot briskly along the -high-road to the town, going to or returning from their marketing. -Occasionally a girl on horseback canters by, sometimes escorted, often -without cavalier or attendant. The road-maintenance man jogs by in his -covered cart, filling up ruts with metal here and there, or clearing a -drain where the storm-water runs too impetuously. In all this savage -land which I have described in detail, there are no lions or tigers, no -bushrangers, no Indians. In fact, but for a few varieties of vegetation, -one might fancy oneself back again in rural England. - - - - - FALLEN AMONG THIEVES - - -In the spring of 1867 I had occasion to travel from my station, -Bundidgaree, near Narandera, on the Murrumbidgee River, to the historic -town of Wagga Wagga, the residence of Mr. Arthur Orton, whose claim to -the Tichborne title and estates was then agitating Britain and her -Colonies. An elderly nurse returning to her home was to accompany me in -an American buggy. The roads were good; the weather fine; the horse high -in condition, exceptional as to pace and courage. Yet was the situation -doubtful, even complicated. The road was risky, the head-station lonely -and unprotected. A gang of bushrangers, under a leader popularly known -as 'Blue-cap,' was at the time I mention within twenty or thirty miles -of Narandera. There was a strong probability that I should encounter -them, or that they would visit the station during my absence. Either hap -was disagreeable, not to say dangerous. I left home with mingled -feelings. But circumstances were obdurate. I had to go. The outlaws, -five in number, were 'back-block natives,' all young men with the -exception of a middle-aged personage known as 'The Doctor.' He was -credited with having 'done time,' that is, served a sentence of -imprisonment, which apparently had not led to reformation, as he was -looked upon as the most dangerous member of the band. Not as yet -committed to acts of bloodshed, they had exchanged shots with Mr. Waller -of Kooba—a station below Narandera—who had surprised them while encamped -upon his Run. He was a determined man and a well-known sportsman. The -story was that he nearly shot 'Blue-cap,' that gentleman having slipped -behind a stock-yard post, which received the breast-high bullet. The -honours of war remained with the squatter, however, whose party forced -the robbers to retreat across the river, leaving (like the Boers) -horses, saddles, and swags behind. It was not known when I started -whether they had gone up or down the river. Meanwhile, the pair of -police troopers who _protected_ the district of Narandera, a region -about a hundred miles square, were 'in pursuit.' - -The question of carrying arms had to be dealt with. I thought at first -of a double-barrelled gun and revolver. But the idea of an effective -defence against five well-mounted, well-armed men, the while embarrassed -with a frightened woman and two spirited horses, did not seem feasible. -I finally decided to trust to the probability of not meeting the -evil-doers at all, and to go unarmed rather than to carry arms which I -could not use effectively. The journey to Wagga, about fifty-five miles, -was accomplished safely. Making an early start next day, about -three-fourths of the return trip was over when I came opposite to -Berrembed, the homestead of my neighbour Mr. Lupton. I was walking the -horses over a curious formation of small mounds, provincially known as -'dead men's graves,' when I became aware of three horsemen coming along -the road towards me. - -My first thought was, 'Here they are-bushrangers!' my second, 'It cannot -be the gang—these are too young; and I don't see the "Doctor."' The -foremost rider, enveloped in a poncho, decided the question by throwing -it back and presenting a revolver, at the same time calling out in what -he meant to be a tone of intimidation, 'Bail up. Stop and get out. If -yer move to get a pistol I'll blow yer brains out.' By the time he had -come to the end of this unlawful demand, he had ridden close up, and -held the revolver, into the barrel of which I could see, and also that -it was on full cock, unpleasantly close to my head. He was a bush-bred -cub, hardly of age, who had but little practice, evidently, in the -highwayman line, for his hand trembled and his face was pale under the -sun-bronzed skin. - -Thus I felt (like Mickey Free's father) somewhat perturbed, as, if I -tried to bolt, he might shoot me on purpose, and if I stayed where I -was, he might shoot me by accident. Meanwhile, I secured the reins to -the lamp iron, and got down in a leisurely manner. 'I have no arms,' I -said, as I stood by the off-side horse—the celebrated Steamer; 'there's -no hurry. I can't well run away.' - -'Give up yer money,' he said gruffly. - -'I haven't any.' - -'That be hanged! A man like you don't travel without money.' - -'I generally have some, but I paid a bill at Martin's (naming an inn a -few miles nearer Wagga) and it cleaned me out.' - -'Hand out them watches, then!' - -He saw by the appearance of my waistcoat that I had more than one. I had -brought back a watch belonging to a relative from Wagga, where it had -been sent for repair. They were both gold watches of some value. - -As he sat on his horse, I being on foot, he kept his bridle-reins and -the levelled revolver in one hand, and reached down to me for the spoil. -As he did so, I looked him in the eye, thinking that a strong, active -man might have pulled him off his horse, grabbed the revolver, and shot -one if not both of his comrades. I had no intention of trying the double -event myself, but I know a man or two who would have chanced it with -such a youthful depredator. - -What I said was, 'You don't often get two gold watches from one man.' - -'No. I know we don't. Turn out that portmanteau.' - -'There's only a suit of clothes and my hair brushes. You don't want -them.' - -At this stage of the intercourse, old Steamer, an impatient though -singularly good-tempered animal, moved on, as of one proclaiming, 'This -foolery has lasted long enough.' I walked to his head and soothed him, -upon which one of the subordinates said civilly, 'I'll hold your horse, -Mr. Boldrewood.' - -I looked at him with surprise, and saw for the first time that he was -Mr. Lupton's stock-rider, and the other 'road agent' the son of that -gentleman. The mystery was explained. They were _pressed men_. We were -within sight of the home station. The rest of the gang were helping -themselves to the proprietor's best horses in the stock-yard when they -saw me coming along the road. So they had detailed this youth for my -capture, and ordered the two others to go with him to 'make a show' in -case of the traveller resisting. - -However, the interview was nearly at an end. The first robber dismissed -me with a brief 'You may go now.' I drove off slowly, not desiring to -show haste, in case the capricious devil which abides in this particular -breed might prompt him to call me back. He did so indeed, but it was -only to say, 'Show us yer pipe. You might have a good 'un.' I exhibited -an old briar-root, at which he waved his hand disdainfully, and going -off at a gallop, made for the homestead with his attendants on either -side, like the wicked Landgrave in Burger's ballad. - -I drove in leisurely fashion until they were out of sight, when I let my -horses out at their usual 'travelling' pace of twelve miles an hour, or -a trifle over, and was not long before I 'reached my cattle-gate.' - -While the 'momentous question' was in the stage of discussion I had been -anxious and troubled—so to speak, afraid. Not for my personal safety. I -did not think any bushranger in the district would slay me in cold -blood. We were popular in our neighbourhood, for though I was the -Chairman of the Narandera Bench when the Police Magistrate of Wagga, Mr. -Baylis, was absent, and as such officially a terror to evil-doers, my -wife had endeared herself to our humbler neighbours by acts of charity -and womanly sympathy in cases of sickness or other sore need. But what I -_was_ afraid of, tremulously indeed, was lest the outlaws should -'commandeer' one or both of my horses. Eumeralla, a fine upstanding -grey, bred at Squattlesea Mere, good in saddle and harness, and carried -a lady, was most valuable, while Steamer, who died after twenty years of -priceless service, was simply invaluable. I was only saved from this -disastrous loss by the fact that Mr. Lupton's stock-yard (he was absent -from home—perhaps fortunately) was full of good station hacks, and as -his stud was of high reputation in the district, his loss on that -occasion proved my salvation. What had happened at Berrembed was simply -this. The bushrangers, with Mr. 'Blue-cap' in command, arrived in the -early afternoon unexpectedly. There were few men about the place. The -overseer and Mr. Lupton were away. Mrs. Lupton, the governess and the -children, with the eldest son, a boy of sixteen, and the stock-rider, -were at home. The master of the house had firmly expressed his intention -to defend his home, and to that end had sent to Melbourne for a -magazine-rifle, capable (it was said) of discharging sixteen cartridges -in quick-firing time. The gang, hearing of this preparation, had sworn -to pay him out for it at an early visit. In his absence they behaved -well, assuring the lady of the house that 'she need not be apprehensive; -they only wanted horses and the new repeating-rifle,' which last they -demanded at once. She was not frightened—a native-born Australian, come -of a Border family, she was not timorous, and had presence of mind -enough to deny knowledge of the rifle. The leader was better informed. -'That won't do, Mrs. Lupton. Master Johnnie shot a bullock with it last -Saturday. Better give it up. These chaps might turn rusty. They're quiet -enough now.' The lady yielded to _force majeure_. The governess was sent -to bring the rifle from the shower-bath, where it had been placed, and -the bushrangers rode off. One of the men, after roaming through the -house, appeared with the baby in his arms, which he had taken from the -nurse, alleging that 'it reminded him of his happy home.' This was -intended as a joke, and no harm came to the infant, who did not seem to -object to a change of nurses. No pillage took place other than that of -the rifle and a remount all round. Besides losing their horses and -saddles at Kooba, and being reduced to an infantry force, having to -cross the river ignominiously upon a sheep-wash temporary bridge, they -had another mischance. They called at Brookong Station on Mr. Cuthbert -Fetherstonhaugh. Here they treated themselves to grog, in which they -vainly tried to make Mr. Fetherstonhaugh join them, and finally went off -across country. Near the Urangeline Creek they were startled by the -galloping of a body of horsemen in pursuit (as they thought), and racing -desperately away, rode into the Urangeline, then in half flood. The -others got out, but the 'Doctor,' parting company with his horse, was -unfortunately drowned, thus cheating the hangman, and not improbably -preventing the commission of bloodshed, into which his evil influence -might have led his less-hardened comrades. They were next heard of near -Narandera, as to which my wife had a sensational visit from a person in -the confidence of the police. - -On the morning of my departure she was told by the maidservant that a -man outside wished to speak to her. He would not come in, or dismount -from his horse. Rather surprised, but being, like our neighbour Mrs. -Lupton, Australian born, and not afraid of men or horses or anything in -a general way, she walked up to the horseman, who sat in his saddle in -the middle of the courtyard, formed by a dining-room and kitchen on one -side and store on the other. He was not anxious to be overheard, as he -leaned forward and in an agitated voice said that he had been sent by -the Senior Constable of Police at Narandera to inform her that the -bushrangers had recrossed the river, and might be expected to visit the -station on that or the following day. If there were arms in the house -she was advised to conceal them for fear of irritating the bushrangers; -that the police could not come themselves, as they were following up the -tracks in another direction. - -This was not cheering news. But action was taken promptly. The armoury -consisted of a two-grooved rifle, carrying a bullet of such size that, -unlike the 'Mauser,' there was no fear of its penetrating a vital organ -without causing instant death. I used to make good practice from an -upper chamber at any mark within a hundred and twenty or thirty yards' -distance. There was also an effective double-barrel, with a couple of -revolvers. A young relative of the family lived with us and helped with -the management. We could have made a decent defence probably after -warning given. But in nineteen out of twenty cases no warning is given, -or, as in this case, too late to be of service. - -It so happened that a wool-bale had been suspended in an outer room, -into which broken fleece, pieces picked up on the Run, was placed from -time to time. Under the wool, therefore, the guns were hidden for the -present. - -When I returned from Wagga after my adventure I was naturally anxious to -hear if the bushrangers had called in my absence. My first words to the -châtelaine were, 'Have you seen the bushrangers?' - -Answer—'No. Have you?' - -'Well—ahem—I—have!' - -Then the story was told in full. - -This band, compared with the career and exploits of other gentlemen of -the road, hardly rose above the amateur level. They were taken by a -sergeant of police and his troopers on the Lachlan. He came unexpectedly -one morning, and marching towards them with a determined air, called -upon them in the Queen's name to surrender. 'Blue-cap' levelled his -rifle. 'What!' roared the sergeant in a voice of thunder. He had known -of him when he was a stock-rider, indifferently honest. 'You d—d -scoundrel! Would you shoot _me_?' - -Whether the idea of the awful crime in the provincial mind, implied in -resisting much less attempting the life of such a magnate, overbore the -remains of his courage (they were pretty sick of the outlaw business), -or that he shrank from deliberate murder, cannot be told; at any rate, -they were disarmed, handcuffed, and conducted to the nearest -lock-up—magazine-rifle and all. Brought in due course before a bench of -magistrates, they were committed to take their trial at the next ensuing -Court of Assize, to be holden at Wagga Wagga. - -I had occasion to visit the 'Place of Crows' (aboriginal name of Wagga -Wagga) some weeks after. The Assizes were coming on, and armed with the -police magistrate's order, I interviewed the captives. - -When the cell door was opened, and my friend of the poncho and revolver -stood revealed, 'quanto mutatus ab illo Hectore!'—'the plume, the helm, -the charger gone'—we looked on each other with very different -expressions. - -'Well, young man,' said I with careless raillery. - -He grinned, as who should say 'Met afore.' - -'Better have stuck to the mail-driving,' I continued. - -'It's too late to think of that now,' he made answer; 'but I wish I'd -broken my leg the day I started this bloomin' racket. It was all through -the "Doctor" as they called him. He led us chaps into it, simple, with -those yarns of his. Anyway, he's dead and gone now. Serve him dashed -well right—and me too for being a fool! I was earning good money, and -had no call to turn out. And this is what it's done for me. What d'yer -think we're goin' to get? They won't hang us?' - -'No,' said I; 'you'll get a dozen years' gaol. Luckily you didn't kill -any one, so the chief can let you off light. If you behave yourselves -you'll be all out again before the end of your sentence.' - -'I'll behave all right—no fear!' he replied. 'I'm full up of this -"cross" work.' - -With the leader, 'Captain Blue-cap,' I had a more lengthened interview. -Not a bad-looking young fellow, of the stock-rider type, it seemed -inexplicable that he should have preferred the life of a hunted outlaw -to that of the well-paid, well-fed, easy-going life of a stock-rider. A -gentleman's life, so to speak: independent, with change and variety in -fair proportion, three or four good horses always at command, and -receiving an amount of consideration far above that of any other -_employé_ under the rank of overseer; to whose orders, if the proprietor -of the station was resident, he did not always hold himself bound to -attend. And now—here he was, a fettered captive in the dungeon of the -period, awaiting trial, certain of ten years' penal servitude, and not -without fear of five years additional, before he walked out a free man -again. - -We had an amicable conversation, there being 'no animosity' on either -side, apparently. It has always struck me as a favourable trait in human -nature, that criminals in a general way rarely harbour revengeful -feeling against magistrates and others, who are, officially, their -natural enemies. Nothing is more common than to hear them say, of the -police or higher officials, 'Oh, they're paid for it; it's all in the -day's work. I don't blame 'em for doin' their duty.' But the amateur -they _do_ hate with an exceeding bitter hatred, as having 'gone out of -his way' to do them injury. For which interference with the natural -order of affairs they are ready to exact, and have before now exacted, -memorable revenge. - -However that may be, we chatted away, without the introduction of moral -axioms on my side or anarchical references on his. It was a lovely, -early summer day, without a solitary cloud in the bright blue sky, and -he _may_, as he watched the sunlight fleck the elm-tree within sight of -the barred window of his cell, have had a spasm of regret. For this is -what he said, gloomily: 'They call it a short life and a merry one. I -didn't see nothen jolly about it.' - -'Many a man's found that out, but you're a young man. If you give no -trouble in gaol you'll not have to serve all your time. Face it, and -look forward to coming out again.' - -'God knows!' he said. 'I might be dead before then; but it's the only -thing to do, I suppose.' - -'Did you ever get hit,' I said, 'in a scrimmage with the police?' - -'That near done for me,' he explained, pulling back his singlet and -showing a large, ragged cicatrice over the region of the heart. 'I wish -to God it had. But it wasn't the police.' - -'How then?' - -'Goin' up to a hut at night; the feller waited for me. Them marks are -slugs.' - -'Wonder it didn't kill you,' I said. 'Must have been a good handful of -them.' - -'Well, I crawled off, and some chaps I knowed nursed me till I got -round. But it was a near thing. "Born to be hanged," they say, "save you -a lot." But it won't run to _that_, d'ye think, sir, when we haven't -killed any one?' - -'Not quite,' I said, 'though you fired at Mr. Waller and his men with -intent, as the Act says, to do serious bodily harm. You'll get a term of -imprisonment of course.' - -'A long "stretch," I expect,' he said. 'Well; it's no use cryin'. -Good-bye, sir, and thanks very much.' - -Then we parted. He went on his way and I saw him no more; circumstances -prevented that. I never met him or his companions again. They were -sentenced to twelve years' imprisonment, and as all this happened thirty -odd years ago, they must be out years and years since. Let us hope that -they reformed. It is on the cards, also, that they may have 'struck it -rich' on a Queensland or West Australian goldfield. - -After this capture and disposal of our highwaymen, the land had rest for -a season. One of the consequences of the outbreak might have had an -ending calculated to surprise the European wool-buyer. Just before the -bale of broken fleece referred to was filled up and put into the press, -Mrs. Boldrewood recollected that she had never seen the box of -ammunition since the day they were huddled into the wool-bale. It was -hastily examined and the explosives hauled out, just as the press was -being put down; great was the laughter in the shed, as the men thought -of the faces of the wool-brokers in a London saleroom when the 'mixed -pieces' were turned out for inspection. - -I never got my watch back, though my cousin recovered his. The police -heard that the bushrangers had, holding out a hatful of watches, invited -the stock-rider to choose one, for his noble conduct and 'moral support' -in my affair. He chose my young friend's, which he afterwards returned -to him. But mine I saw never again, having to content me with a silver -one of small value for the next decade. - - - - - A TRANSFORMATION SCENE - - -'Look alive, boys,' said Hugh Tressider; 'we must slog on for the next -hour or two. Pitch dark, and going to be a wet night; but if we don't -lose the road we shall pull Barallan before bedtime. There we're sure of -a yard and a welcome. A night's sleep won't do us any harm.' - -'A night's sleep? Dashed if I've had any for a week,' growled the head -stock-rider. 'I'm fit to drop off my bloomin' moke this minute; and he's -just the size to kick me for falling. Them blessed B.R. cattle's like a -mob of kangaroos for breaking and rushin' if so much as a 'possum -squeals or a stick breaks. But I know Mr. Bayard's is a regular stunning -place to stop at. Gentle or simple, it's all one to him. He's a -gentleman as _is_ a gentleman; and every workin' man in the district 'll -say the same.' - -'All right, Joe; then stir up those lads and the blackfellow a bit; -don't let the tail cattle struggle, whatever you do. I'll go on with the -lead; my old horse will keep the track.' - -'What a thundering wild night it's going to be,' said the drover to -himself as he threaded his way through the thick-growing timber, -skirting the half-seen wildish herd, which, but a week from the pastures -where they had been bred, were still troublesome and prone to break back -at the smallest opportunity. The rain, which had held off during the -gusty, stormy day, now came down in driving sleety showers, ice-cold, -and wetting to the skin the dogged, silent horsemen, who, by the nature -of things, were incompletely clothed for resisting so serious a -downfall. The cattle, beginning to low with discomfort and uneasiness, -were with difficulty restrained from facing towards the opposite point -of the compass, away from the blinding storm, which now drove full in -their teeth. To those unacquainted with the skill, acquired by long -experience in this particular occupation, it would have seemed little -short of a miracle that four men and a black boy, who had also the -special care of a pack-horse, could guide six hundred head of unwilling, -half-wild cattle through a thickly-timbered country on so dark a night, -with rain and storm to complicate matters withal. - -But it _was_ possible. It was done well and effectively. The leader's -horse, an Arab-looking grey, visible from time to time, denoted each -turn and direction of the road. The quick eyes of the stock-riders were -seldom at fault, and detecting each straggling animal, they were instant -to urge a wheel before separation from the main body took place. The -gregarious habit of cattle was in their favour, as also their -indisposition to straggle overmuch in the darkness. When they were -doubtful, the piercing organ of the man of the woods was called into -play. His decision was prompt and unerring. - -It was, 'Me see 'um two fellows cow and that one red bullock yan along a -gully, likit picaninny way. You hold 'em, this one pack-horse, me fetch -'um.' And back they came accordingly. One hour, then another, had slowly -passed. The rain had ceased, but the heavens were ebon black and murky. -Still rode the man, who had first spoken, at the head of the great -drove, which, lowing from time to time, kept plodding monotonously -forward, at other times silent and all but soundless as a procession of -ghostly beeves, escorted by a company of spectre horsemen. - -Wet and weary, chilled to the bone, too dispirited to speak—indeed -conversation would have been difficult under the circumstances of -compulsory separation—the jaded stock-riders moved on; the rain-drops -showering from the leaves as they brushed from time to time under the -low-growing shrubs and sapling eucalyptus, the horses' feet sinking -deeply in the clay and decomposed gravel of the forest; or splashing -shoulder-deep through the mountain streams that crossed their track; -their watchful outlook strained and concentrated to the fullest, each -man at his allotted station. It was a phase of Australian backwoods life -not always credited to the much-enduring bushman. - -'By George! this is a hard life,' soliloquised the weary pioneer, for -such he had been in more than one colony, as he sat, stiff, sore, and -aching in every limb, upon his game but over-tired horse. 'Hold up, old -man, you haven't had the saddle off your back nor I my clothes for the -last six-and-thirty hours; but another half-hour will see you in a good -paddock and me in Barallan parlour, with the cattle safe inside of post -and rails, if we haven't taken a wrong track. Only for Bandah we should -have followed the old Bundoorah road, a mile back, and found ourselves -in the middle of a howling scrub, with a strong chance of losing these -confounded B.R. cattle, the worst herd to drive in the district, and no -more likelihood of bed or supper than if we were afloat on a raft.' - -And here the travel-worn bushman, sodden and soaked, splashed and sleepy -as he was, laughed aloud at the absurdity of the conceit. - -Managing to light his pipe again by sheltering the match with his shut -hand against the night-wind, in a manner peculiar to backwoods -Australians, he was silent for a while. Then recommenced: 'Yes, a hard -life, this of mine; work and anxiety by day and by night, wet and dry, -hot or cold, burnt up and scorched in the summer, half drowned and -starved with cold in the winter, and all for what? Just for a decent -living, with little enough chance of putting by anything for a rainy -day—I mean for a dry season,' he added, with another laugh. 'Well, -though it is a hard life, I wouldn't exchange it for everyday work in a -merchant's office, in a bank, or a Government department. These may be -very well for some people, but they wouldn't suit Hugh Tressider at all. -Give me the open air for it! And then, hard as the occasional rubs are, -you have the benefit of contrast, and enjoy it all the more, as I shall -a good supper and a good bed, which I'm morally certain to drop in for -to-night. What a trump that Arnold Bayard is! If all squatters were like -him, travelling would be a luxury and a privilege. Besides, I have the -comfort of thinking—and it does keep me from being a peg too low at -times—that all my hard work has not been for my own advantage, and that -I have benefited others. Bless all their hearts! How I wish I could do -more for them. Was that a dog's bark? Yes, by Jove! and there's the -Barallan paddock fence on the left; it makes a wing to the stock-yard. -Right you are, old man' (to his horse); 'we can't go wrong now; we'll go -back, and help a bit with the tail.' - -Making back to the next horseman, Tressider shook up the leg-weary but -still game and willing hackney, and finding his way to the rear, -informed all hands of the change in their immediate prospects, with the -certainty of a speedy entrance into a haven of rest and refection. The -intelligence had a distinctly stimulating effect. The pace of the drove -was perceptibly quickened. Men, dogs, and horses seemed to have acquired -new life and spirit. In less than half an hour the cattle were safely -bestowed in a capacious stock-yard, the gates carefully secured, and the -whole party dismounted before the outbuildings of Barallan Station. - -Though it had been dark for four hours by the watches of the night, it -was not more than half-past ten by the clock. Lights were still visible -in the principal building, and a glowing fire in the men's kitchen -showed that the cook was all alive, or had very lately retired. - -A tall man with an abundant beard now advanced, and looked earnestly in -the face of Tressider as he advanced to meet him. 'Oh, it's you, old -man!' he said, in a voice every intonation of which bespoke kindly, -unequivocal welcome. 'I expected you yesterday. What a drenching you -must have had this miserable day. Mrs. Bayard has gone to bed, but -there's nothing to prevent you and me from being comfortable for another -hour. Of course the cattle are in the yard?' - -'Yes.' - -'Well, look here, you fellows, put your horses through that wicket-gate. -Capital feed inside, and not too big a paddock. Joe hasn't turned in -yet. He'll soon have supper ready for you. And, hold on, when you've -turned out your horses, come up to the back door of the house. A glass -of grog all round won't hurt any of you this cold night.' - -'Thank you, Mr. Bayard,' was the reply from the oldest stock-rider. - -In fifteen minutes at the outside Hugh Tressider was enabled to realise -the justice of his proposition, that from the great contrasts of -existence the essence of pleasure is extracted. His waterproof valise -had furnished a complete change of dry garments, arrayed in which he was -seated before a blazing fire, subsequent to the absorption of a glass of -hot grog. A substantial meal was imminent, and as he watched the -neat-handed Phyllis deftly covering that hospitable board, he was -confirmed in the opinion that life had but few avenues of higher -enjoyment open to him. - -Arnold Bayard, the owner of the station, a wealthy and much-respected -magnate in the land, had a particular fancy for this young fellow, whom -he watched enjoying himself after his day, or indeed days, of toil and -travail, with paternal benevolence. - -'A deuced hard-working, honourable, well-principled young fellow,' he -was wont to say. 'Every one ought to do him a good turn. I wish all the -young ones were like him. His father, Captain Tressider, an old Waterloo -veteran, bought that farm of theirs, on the Upper Hunter, instead of a -station in the old days, and ruined himself trying to grow oranges and -olives, and all that rot, instead of sheep and cattle. When he died, -Hugh was left with his mother and the little brothers and sisters to -look after. Quite a boy himself, too. He buckled to it then, and it has -been all against collar with him ever since. Working like a nigger, and -living like one, too, sometimes, but he has managed to keep them going, -and pay for their education, though he came off rather short himself. -Never mind that; I say he is as true a gentleman as ever stepped, and -some day he must come out right. The Tressiders are high enough in point -of birth. There's a title, too, in the family, I'm told, if the next -heir at home were cleared off, but of course Hugh's too practical a -fellow ever to bother his head about that.' - -Thus far, Mr. Bayard. But this was only to strangers. Most of the people -in the district knew so much, and honoured Hugh Tressider accordingly. -Nobody could be poorer; no one could work harder. But curious as it may -seem to those people who persist in manufacturing a stage Australia for -themselves,—which is as like the country as the English milord of the -Porte St. Martin, with his _boule-dogue_, his top-coat, and the -ever-present 'god-dam,' to the real aristocrat,—there are few places -where gentle birth and the manners which chiefly accompany that -accidental circumstance are more truly honoured. So it will not be -considered as anything very wonderful by Australians that Hugh -Tressider, though only a drover by occupation, who received a certain -sum per head for the conveying of large lots of cattle from one part of -the colonies to another, known to be the son of a retired military -officer, to be proverbially just, true, and self-respecting in all his -dealings, was held in high estimation accordingly, and took rank -socially with the best people, many of whom could have counted a -thousand pounds to his every ten. - -Hugh slept the sleep of the just that night, it may be confidently -stated—the delicious, dreamless, utter repose of the fatigued worker; a -luxury which the dwellers in high places of the earth very seldom taste. -The dawn of a winter's morning had, however, but faintly commenced to -tinge the lowering sky when he instinctively arose, and dressing with -expedition proceeded to stir up his men and make preparations for an -early start. The hut cook, an official whose position rarely permits of -morning slumbers, was already up, and had the fire lighted which was to -boil the huge breakfast-kettle. A restricted toilette suffices for -road-hands in winter time. In half an hour the horses were saddled, a -breakfast of beefsteak, damper, and hot tea disposed of, the packer -fully accoutred, and all was ready for the road. - -'Now boys,' says Tressider, 'I'll count the cattle out of the yard. -There won't be another chance for a while. We've had a good night of it, -thanks to Mr. Bayard. Let them feed for an hour or two, as soon as they -steady to the road, and I'll overtake you somewhere about the Burnt Hut -Flat.' - -Having counted out his herd, which he was gratified to find turned out -the correct number of six hundred and twenty-three—a matter which might -well have otherwise resulted after the darkling difficulties of the -previous night—and seen them straggle out over the wet green grass, the -young man betook himself with a light heart back to the 'big house,' -which he reached just in time for the family breakfast. - -Here were assembled all the olive branches—from Melanie, aged sixteen, -and giving promise of general captivation, to a roly-poly three-year-old -boy, who ruled the household despotically, and sat on Hugh's knee, with -wide wondering eyes scanning his features, as if seriously considering -whether they had met in a former state of existence. - -'Very glad to see you, Mr. Tressider,' said the lady of the house, a -handsome, hospitable matron, as became the châtelaine of Barallan and -the wife of Arnold Bayard; she couldn't well have been otherwise. 'We -were afraid that you were going to be one of the mysterious guests who -come after every one is in bed, and go away before they get up.' - -'Like the avenger of blood in _Anne of Geierstein_, mother,' put in -Melanie, with her hand on her parent's arm. 'There is something so weird -about cattle-men. They always seem to be doing their work at unearthly -hours, or beside watch-fires, like the people in the German legends.' - -'And don't they have to light fires when they travel with sheep?' asked -Jack, aged fourteen. 'Girls don't know anything about stock, do they, -father?' - -'They know as much as some boys who forget to fasten gates, and let the -weaners "box" after a day's hard drafting,' returned Mr. Bayard with -mildly reproachful emphasis. Here Mr. Jack subsided, while a certain -tremulous movement of the lip showed the effect of the reminder. - -'Never mind, poor old man! he'll remember next time. I'm sure he was as -sorry as any one,' said the tender mother, giving a squeeze to the boy's -hand. 'And now, breakfast is quite ready. You had better sit here, Mr. -Tressider, and you can tell me how they all were at Rimandah, and who -won the tennis match.' - -'By the way,' said the Master, seating himself in a contemplative way -before a noble round of beef, 'there is an English newspaper and a -letter for you in the smoking-room; came yesterday. We were so busy -yarning over the fire last night that I forgot to tell you.' - -'They'll keep till after breakfast,' said Hugh calmly. 'There isn't a -soul out of Australia that I care two straws about. I suppose some one -has sent me a _Times_ with nothing in it that can possibly concern me. -Thanks; I will take some chicken-pie. I can fall back upon corned beef -on the road, though one never seems to tire of it.' - -'How are they all on the Allyn?' said Mr. Bayard. 'Have you heard from -home lately?' - -'Oh, doing quite splendidly,' said the young man, his face lighting up -with an expression of tenderness which transfigured the weather-beaten -features and imparted a pathetic lustre to his dark-grey eyes. 'Elinor -was improving in her drawing—going to be quite an artist. Fairy was -taking lessons in singing; she always had a wonderful voice. Bob was -head of his class at school, and was safe for a scholarship if he kept -up the pace. Mother was stronger than she had been for years. I shall -get back there at Christmas time if I've luck on this journey, and we're -going to be no end jolly. The Armordens are coming over from Braidwood, -and we shall be as happy as kings—much happier, indeed, by late -accounts.' - -'I'm sure you deserve it,' said Mrs. Bayard half-unconsciously to -herself. 'But what a terrible day you must have had of it yesterday. It -never ceased raining here. It is perishing weather even now. However you -can endure your life in such a season as this, astonishes me.' - -'We get used to it, Mrs. Bayard, like the eels, you know. Somebody must -do it, or who would buy the Barallan cattle, and get them to market?' - -'Yes, I see; but I can't bear to think of nice people—of one's friends, -you know—sitting in the saddle through these long, dismal, bitter -nights, or watching by fires in the forest, like demons or ghosts.' - -'That's the pleasantest part of it, I assure you. When the virtuous -drover has eaten his supper, made up his fire, and lighted his pipe, he -feels—well, nearly as comfortable as Mr. Bayard here when he has locked -up the house and put out the lamp for the night. It doesn't always rain, -either.' - -'Here are your letters and paper, Mr. Tressider,' said Melanie, who had -quietly arisen from the breakfast-table; 'I was afraid dad would forget -them again. Hadn't you better open them? I would if I had letters from -England.' - -'You have my permission,' said the lady of the house. 'Some people are -dreadfully cold-blooded about letters. Fancy a woman leaving her letters -unread all this time!' - -'Theirs are pleasanter than ours,' murmured the recipient. 'That is, -generally speaking. Ha! This seems a different hand from the last -correspondent. I thought I knew the old fellow's writing well.' - -With the sleepless curiosity of youth, Melanie and Jack had kept their -eyes fixed upon their friend's face. To their great and unaffected -surprise they observed him to flush all over, bronzed cheek and -forehead, and afterwards to turn deadly pale. The letter slipped from -his nerveless hand, and his eyes assumed such a fixed and strange -expression, that the young people were alarmed. Mr. and Mrs. Bayard, -with averted heads, were discussing matters of family interest, and so -had escaped the bit of melodrama. - -Mr. Bayard was recalled by Melanie's eager tones— - -'Oh, father! Mr. Tressider's taken ill. He's had some bad news in his -letter.' - -'Why, old fellow, what is it?' inquired Bayard, turning to him with a -face of sincere concern. 'Anything gone wrong at home? I didn't know you -heard from relatives in the old country.' - -Hugh Tressider stood up and looked at his good friend with a staid and -serious expression, not by any means habitual. 'All is well; better than -well, my dear Mr. Bayard. I know it will rejoice your kind heart. But it -_was_ rather sudden, and as unexpected as an order to become -Governor-General. I'm Lord Trewartha, that's all; and there's Trewartha -Castle, with not much of an income yet, but a fair sum in cash at my -credit to support the dignity. More will fall in when another relative -dies. It rather knocked me over at first. The thought of all I could do -for the girls and Bob, and the poor Mother who has slaved her soul out -all these years for us, was too much for me—my heart struck work for a -minute or so. I nearly fainted. There's the letter.' - -'And you're a lord?—Lord Trewartha—a real live lord!' said Melanie and -Jack, each taking hold of a hand, and jumping up and down with wild -excitement and the exuberant, unselfish joy of youth. 'Oh, what fun! -Isn't it splendid? And will people have to say, "Yes, my lord," and "No, -my lord," and "If your lordship please"? Of course you will send these -crawling B.R. cattle to Jericho.' This last was Master Jack's -suggestion. - -'I shall carry out my engagements, even if I were made a marquis,' said -Hugh, recovering his spirits, 'which I read somewhere is ever so much -higher than a baron. And you are all to call me Hugh, without Mr. or -anything. That is all the difference. Otherwise I shall leave you -nothing in my will. And now I must go and have a smoke with your father, -or I shall have a fit.' - -It was all true. Is true. For the matter of that, something very like it -happened only the other day under nearly similar circumstances. Hugh -Tressider will never more need to undertake to drive cattle from Kiandra -(let us say) to the Paroo, or from Mount Cornish to Adelaide, at per -head. Elinor and Fairy will have _such_ private lessons and masters and -general embellishment that they will do more than pass muster among -their European kinsfolk. Bob will graduate at Oxford or Cambridge, and -if ever he revisits Australia—as being a younger brother he probably -will—it will be impossible to tell him, at first sight, from the -imported Anglo-Saxon aristocrat. - -And Hugh Tressider, what of him? As he smokes his pipe that evening by -the camp-fire—one of the last of the series he is likely to warm himself -by—what avenues of enjoyment, hitherto undreamed of, seem lengthening -out into vast and endless grandeur, like the Sphinx-guarded paths of -Egyptian cities, all ending in wondrous palaces, purple-draped and -gold-illumined! The hard and homely present nearly faded out of sight; -only by an effort could he recall himself to the rude primeval -surroundings he was so soon to quit for ever. A peer of England! A man -of fortune! The heir of an ancient name! Free to meet and mingle with -the world's best and fairest, bravest and most exalted, on terms of -freedom and equality. His foot slipped into a pool of ice-cold water -amid the tussocks of frosted grass as he thought of all this, and with a -light laugh at the incongruity of his situation and prospects, he -resumed his walk around the recumbent drove. - -At no distant date the Tressider family sailed for England, when -doubtless most of the good things in keeping with their altered fortunes -were duly dispensed to and appreciated by them. - - - - - IN BUSHRANGING DAYS - - -The practice of 'intromitting with the lieges travelling on their lawful -business'—as Captain Dugald Dalgetty (sometime of Marischal College, -Aberdeen) hath it—is an ancient and fascinating, if irregular mode of -financial reconstruction. It has always commended itself as a -combination of business and pleasure to those bolder spirits who chafe -at the restriction of an over-timorous social system. - -From the days of the mad Prince and Poins there were those 'for sport -sake content to do the profession some grace.' Risks of death and -dishonour were thus taken in countries boasting a high civilisation—a -short shrift and a high gallows constituting the accepted termination of -a period of riot and revelry; and though the strong hand of the law -rarely failed to bring the bold outlaw to his doom, certain alleviations -always served to cast a glamour around the pleasant and profitable, if -perilous career of the highwayman. - -Brigand or bandit, pirate or smuggler, bushranger or buccaneer, as might -be, he rarely failed to enlist the feminine sympathy, which has flowed -forth in all ages towards the doer of bold deeds—the scorner of gold -save for revel and gift—the fearless withstander of the law. - -The feats of these heroes of Alsatia have been sung and their valour -vaunted in the ballads of all lands and ages; indeed they have formed no -inconsiderable portion of the material. 'Yo Soy Contrabandista' never -fails to evoke a storm of applause from every Spanish audience. - -They have flourished alike under the rule of kings and the co-operative -coercion of democracy. Monarchies fail to extirpate, republics to -suppress them. They apparently owe their existence to some unexplained -ordinance of Dame Nature, whose _enfans gatés_ they are. Her forest -children they. Lords of the Waste, roamers through wood and wold, -formulating thus a world-old protest against the dulness of -respectability, the greed of industrialism, the selfishness of property. - -Products as well of the careless ordering of new countries as of the -stern discipline of older communities, small wonder that they should -have arisen in this brand-new, scarce century-old Austral land of ours, -hugging the South Pole and dissevered from many of the formalities of -civilisation. Small wonder, I say, that amid our pathless woods and -sea-like plains, with every natural advantage and conceivable aid from -the habits of a migratory, restless, centaur-like population, these -unlicensed tax-gatherers should have appeared. Thus the profession and -practice of what is now called 'Bushranging' occurred at a very early -period of Australian history. The term easily grew out of the natural -desire of the escaped felon, desperate from harsh treatment, or perhaps -merely averse to toil, to hide himself in the woods which then -surrounded the settlements. - -The old English words 'wood' and 'forest,' 'copse' and 'thicket,' had -been superseded by the comprehensive colonial term 'bush,' doubtless -suggested by the close approximation to 'scrub' or 'jungle,' which the -interminable eucalyptus wilderness then presented to the first emigrant -Britons. 'The bush' came next, as more fully comprehensive and -explanatory, signifying something analogous to the Dutch-African -'veldt,' not necessarily woodland, but the waste lands of the Crown -generally. This nomenclature must have mystified later arrivals -considerably, much of the so-called 'bush' being composed of plains -nearly, and in some cases altogether, without timber of any description. - -The wandering robber, necessarily 'a burgher of that desert city,' came -then, by general consent, to be described as a 'bushranger.' The term -was even Latinised, as the philologist may discover by reading the -description in St. James's Church, Sydney, on the tablet placed there to -commemorate the death of Dr. Wardell, of 'Wardell's Bush,' Petersham, -slain in the early thirties, 'latrone vagante' (_sic_). The first -robbers were in all cases convicts. For the small proportion of free men -employed as guards and warders, overseers and head workmen, there was -obviously no temptation to leave recognised positions, to ramble through -the terrible foodless wastes, with a price on their heads, as was the -stern usage of the period. - -But in the case of the reckless felon the conditions were different. He -had been flogged—he was worked in irons for bad conduct. If returned by -his employer to the authorities as useless or stubborn, no prospect lay -before him but that of ending a wretched life in the severer penal -settlements, where incorrigibles were doomed to chains and slavery. He -declared for the open sky, the free forest. The toll levied on the drays -of the squatter, the homestead of the farmer, or the wayfarer on the -high-road, was necessarily the chief, almost the only support of -outlaws. For a time they lived and flourished. Having secured arms—the -fowling-piece, musket, or pistol of the period—they entrapped or -intimidated the unwary traveller. They made stubborn defence against the -minions of the law, unless the odds were too great. In some instances, -having discovered retreats known only to the aboriginal tribes or -outlying shepherds, mostly sympathisers, their evasion of justice was -prolonged for years. The end, however, was but delayed. Tracked down, -betrayed, slain in fair fight with police, with soldiers, with settlers -combining for self-defence, the same fate awaited all. - -Found with arms in their hands, they were hanged as a matter of course. -No sentence of imprisonment afforded them hope of escape, with further -possibilities of crime. They had played the great hazard, and the -forfeit was duly paid. - -Living in this condition of continual warfare—their hand against all -men, and, with rare exceptions, all men against them, the gallows or the -bullet their certain doom—it is not to be wondered at that crimes of -violence shocked and aroused the community. 'As well be hung for a sheep -as a lamb,' was the familiar proverb quoted in reference to deeds of -blood and rapine. With fancied wrongs and years of oppression to avenge, -they showed no mercy. They had received none. Fighting with the rope -round their necks, they were reckless and ruthless. And when the last -act of the grim tragedy was played, with the hangman for stage manager -and a quasi-criminal crowd for audience, the leading actor had more than -once boasted of a score of murders and kindred outrages. - -At the first outbreaks the highwaymen of the period had neither horses -nor arms worthy of the name. Revolvers were unknown; pistols were far -from being 'arms of precision.' Rifles even were rare; only the -fowling-piece and the Tower musket were in common use. Horses, too, were -scarce. So that the colonial summons of 'Bail up,' or even the -old-fashioned British demand, 'Your money or your life,' came mostly -from a ragged Robinson Crusoe-like individual behind a tree, with a -rusty gun-barrel protruding therefrom. - - * * * * * - -Of course after the 'breaking out' of Port Phillip—as the earliest -colonisation of Victoria was disrespectfully termed—in 1837, persons of -darksome record hasted to the new settlement to hide from the law or -prey on the public. Among them were three escaped Tasmanian felons, -named Williams, Jepps, and Fogarty. - -This worthy triumvirate raided the wilds of the Upper Plenty, robbing -and holding to ransom the lieges, terrorising a line of farm-houses. -They took prisoners my good friend Charles Ryan and the late Mr. Alick -Hunter, adding insult to injury by eating the breakfast prepared for the -latter gentleman and his friends. What the fashionables of the day -wanted on the banks of the Plenty Rivulet I never could make out. But it -was considered 'the thing' apparently to have a farm in that locality; -it was even surmised that these aristocratic amateurs might make money -by the practice of agriculture—a delusion long dispelled. What the solid -fact amounted to _re_ Jepps and Co. was that, like the footpads in _Don -Juan_, their first accost was 'D—— your eyes, your money or life.' So -much for the 'first robbers' in Victoria. - -To them enter four gentlemen—volunteers, squatters of the period and -overlanders at that—Mr. Henry Fowler, of Fowler's Flat, near Albury; Mr. -Peter Snodgrass, M.L.A., son of the Colonel and Lieutenant-Governor of -that name, historically known as commanding the 13th Portuguese -Regiment, when on August 31, 1813, he mounted the 'imminent deadly -breach' at the siege of St. Sebastian; Lieutenant Robert Chamberlain, a -retired military man; and Mr. Gourlay, squatter. Arming in haste, they -followed hard on the tracks of the spoilers, and, as they crossed the -creek flat, discovered the bushrangers entrenched in a slab hut, fully -prepared for battle. The outlaws had the best of the position, having -cover, behind which they could fire through windows and other openings. -The attacking force did not stop to weigh probabilities, but charged up -to the fortress, the besieged returning fire with effect. Mr. -Chamberlain was slightly wounded; Mr. Fowler was shot through the jaw. -But 'blood will tell.' The volunteers were cool and determined. One of -the robbers was shot dead, and the others captured before the smoke had -well cleared from the tiny battle scene, which compared favourably as to -killed and wounded with more pretentious engagements. The prisoners were -conveyed to Melbourne, there to await trial, sentence, and execution. -Their captives, I may mention, finding themselves neglected, promptly -quitted the field, their position between two fires being eminently -unsafe. - -It were tedious to follow the calendar of crime more or less connected -with the highway in old colonial days. In many instances the records -testify not less to the unflinching courage of the settlers than to the -recklessness of the robbers. - -Among memorable incidents that of Mr. Charles Fisher Shepherd, of -Monaro, deserves to be recorded. On the 14th of December 1835, being -attacked by bushrangers at night, also deserted or betrayed by other -inmates of the station, he shot one robber dead and kept up a fight -against odds in the most gallant manner, until, being wounded in the -head and half-a-dozen other places, he was left for dead. He recovered, -however, as if by a miracle, and gave evidence at the trial and -conviction of the chief criminal and his abettors. - -As far back as 1830 this evil, so far from being stamped out by -chain-gang and gallows, assumed alarming proportions, as may be judged -by a newspaper extract containing a letter from Mr. George Suttor to Mr. -E. B. Suttor, of Baulkam Hills. On the 27th of October in that year, a -meeting of the magistrates and inhabitants of Bathurst was called at the -Court-house to consider what steps should be taken as to a band of -bushrangers. They were led by a desperate convict, said to have been -flogged unjustly; and numbering at times from twenty to thirty, kept the -district in a state of alarm. Murder, as well as serious depredations, -was laid to their charge. A body of volunteers numbering twelve, well -armed and mounted, was at once formed, Mr. W. H. Suttor being nominated -commander by Major Macpherson. - -They started at five o'clock P.M., after hearing of a fresh robbery -committed at the house of one Arkell. Mr. Suttor, always a friend of the -aboriginal race, met two aboriginal natives who knew him, and enlisted -them as guides. They ran the tracks until the robbers were descried in a -rocky glen near the Warragamba River, about an hour before sunset. The -volunteers dismounted and prepared to take them by a _coup de main_, but -a stone falling, alarmed the gang. They instantly took to the trees for -cover, and kept up an incessant fire. The volunteers stood their ground -and returned the fire. While Mr. Suttor was on the rock giving orders, a -bullet passed through his hat. The firing was kept up for about an hour. -Two bushrangers were wounded and fell, but were got to the rear. Mr. -Suttor made a feint to charge, which caused the robbers to run from -their position, though he had but an empty carbine to threaten with. He -then effected a retreat, none of his men being wounded. Mr. Charles -Suttor was the last to leave the glen. All remounted their horses, which -they had left in charge of the two blacks and a lad they had taken from -the bushrangers. - -The night after the skirmish was stormy, and Mr. Suttor was vexed to -find that most of the horses had strayed; while seeking them the mounted -police were met with, eager to overtake the bushrangers. Had they but -come up sooner, their united force would have been sufficient to take or -shoot the whole gang. In the encounter which took place, two of the -troopers were shot and five of the horses lost. Lieutenant Brown did all -that a brave officer could, even carrying off the wounded men on the -back of his own horse. - -The number of the robber band was between fourteen and twenty. They -escaped at that time, but were pursued by Captain Walpole and Lieutenant -Moore with separate detachments, to whom they surrendered. 'Major -Macpherson was much pleased with the brothers Suttor for going forward -in the prompt manner they did' (_sic_). - -There was talk of a 'rising' at Mudgee, which did not come off; and -doubtless all the 'banditti,' by which term they are referred to in this -interesting letter signed G. Suttor, under date October 27, 1830, were -shot or taken in usual course. Let us trust that our country may never -fall short of sons of the soil ready to act with the courage and loyalty -of the Messrs. Suttor and the other Australian volunteers in the -'battle' described. - - * * * * * - -Although gold-mining on a large scale practically commenced in New South -Wales in the month of May 1851, when Mr. John Richard Hardy was -appointed the first Goldfields Commissioner, and, with a body of mounted -police, commenced to issue licenses and to administer the law at Ophir, -where a large number of diggers had already collected, and where an -eighteen-ounce nugget was found a day or two after their arrival, no -robberies of consequence were committed. Still, tent thefts were -frequent. Mysterious disappearances from time to time took place, while -drunken brawls, horse-stealing, unlicensed liquor selling, and -such-like, kept the police fully employed. - -But no organised road robbery on a large scale occurred until 1862. Then -all Australia was thrilled by an announcement of the gold escort robbery -by Gardiner's gang, near Forbes in New South Wales. A peculiar -significance attached to this daring crime, from the fact of the -perpetrators being chiefly native-born Australians. It shook the general -belief, long held, that the sons of the soil were free from the reproach -attached to their progenitors. The New South Wales natives were -proverbially sober. Not prone to the graver crimes, reared amid -favourable surroundings, the type had developed few of the faults of -former generations. Much might be expected of the coming race. This -optimistic opinion was now unrooted. The details of the crime left but -little hope for the philanthropist, while it confirmed the cynic's -mockery of his kind. - -On the 15th of June 1862, the gold escort coach from Forbes was stopped -and robbed by Gardiner's gang, eight or ten men in all, with blackened -faces, and wearing red shirts. Bullock drays had been placed across the -narrow road, and a rude breastwork constructed, at a place locally known -as 'Eugowra Rocks.' Behind this an armed band suddenly appeared. No -challenge was given, but at the word 'Fire' from the leader, a volley -was poured into the coach, on which sat the police in charge of the -gold. The sergeant and the trooper were hit. The sergeant fell, wounded -in the side. The police, taken by surprise, made no effectual defence. -The horses, left to themselves, bolted and overturned the coach. The -robbers then took possession of the escort gold and notes, packed in -four iron boxes, amounting to about fourteen thousand pounds in value. -It is in evidence that a division was made, which gave about twenty-two -pounds weight of gold to each man besides his share of the -notes—roughly, one thousand pounds or more each—a tempting booty enough -even in those days of universal plenty and comparative wealth, enjoyed -by all sorts and conditions of men throughout Australia—those colonies -which had not as yet produced gold, sharing almost equally in enhanced -profits and heightened wages with those which had. - -Very soon after the robbers had packed their ill-gotten gold upon the -coach leaders and ridden hard for the gullies of the Weddin -mountainland, which had many a time and oft sheltered fugitives from -justice, the police, with that indispensable sleuth-hound the black -tracker, were on their trail. - -So hot was the pursuit, that on the Thursday following, Superintendent -Saunderson's division came up with part of the gang, in one of the -fastnesses of 'the Weddin'—discovered their camp and the scales with -which the gold had been weighed and divided. They caught sight of the -outlaws, but, on their tired horses, failed to overtake them, splendidly -mounted as they appeared to be. However, they were forced to abandon a -pack-horse, which the police found to be richly laden, having in four -bags, secured to the saddle, about fifteen hundred ounces of gold. - -Sir Frederick Pottinger, Mr. Mitchell, C.P.S., and Detective Lyons also -arrested two men near Narandera, one of whom had with him two hundred -and thirteen ounces of gold and one hundred and fifty pounds in notes. -These were doubtless accessories or confederates. A reward per head was -offered by the Government for information leading to capture of any of -the gang. Thus ran the proclamation:— - - * * * * * - - 'MAIL AND ESCORT ROBBERY - - '_£1000 Reward, and Pardon to an Accomplice_ - -'Whereas it has been represented to the Government that on the afternoon -of the 15th inst. the gold escort from the Lachlan was attacked on the -road between Forbes and Orange by a band of armed men, said to be ten in -number, and described as dressed in red shirts and caps, with their -faces blackened, who fired on and wounded the police forming the guard, -opened the mail-bags and letters, and carried off a large amount of gold -dust and money: Notice is hereby given that a reward of one thousand -pounds will be given by Government for such information as shall lead to -the apprehension and conviction, within six months from this date, of -each of the guilty parties; and a pardon will also be granted to any -accomplice in the above outrage who shall first give such information. - - CHARLES COWPER. - - 'COLONIAL SECRETARY'S OFFICE, SYDNEY, _June 17, 1862_.' - - * * * * * - -The great gold robbery having been accomplished, the actors in which -were for a time uncaptured and unpunished, other enterprises of the same -nature disturbed the land. - - * * * * * - -More than one gang had apparently been formed, whose doings were heard -of, sometimes in one direction, sometimes in another. - -Well armed and admirably mounted, they were not easily overtaken or -overpowered by the police force of the day, then recently organised on -the centralising system, which has since proved so efficacious. Before -the advent of Captain Mayne, Captain M'Lerie, and Inspector-General -Fosbery, the police in New South Wales were under the control of the -magistrates of the district, much as obtained formerly in the rural -parts of England. The system did not work well: one police magistrate -might be alert and courageous, likely to keep his men in good order; -another might be easy-going, slack of discipline—mentally even in near -resemblance to Justice Shallow. It was evident that there would be -little _esprit de corps_, each division working for its own hand. - -But when the new régime came into force all was changed. The force -became at once semi-military in discipline, in prestige, in general -organisation. The officers, each in graduated rank, responsible for a -district, maintained a high standard of efficiency, while the -inspector-general at headquarters enjoyed much the same power and rank -as the military commandant of a colony. From that time forth the bush -outlaws were more easily traced, more often captured, and more -invariably punished than had been the case in former years. - -Still, the circumstances of the country were so much in favour of this -particular class of offender, that from time to time society waxed -impatient at the protracted immunity of known criminals fresh from the -scene of notorious outrage. Outlying stations were attacked, and more -than one household had reason to rejoice at their narrow escape from -capture and ill-treatment. Perhaps one of the most daring outrages of -Hall and Gilbert's gang was the attack on the house of Mr. David -Campbell, of Goimbla. The story of the siege and of his memorable -defence I had from his own lips in the summer of 1869. He was then -living at Cunningham Plains, where I visited him _en route_ from -Narandera to Goulburn. - -Mr. Campbell was Scottish by descent, though born in India. A keen -sportsman, a high-couraged, chivalrous gentleman, he was justly -indignant that he should be menaced by the lawless men who were then -terrorising the country. In expectation of an attack, he made more than -usual provision in the way of arms; a double supply of which were at -hand in places of concealment. - -Thus his story ran:— - -It was the time of the evening meal. Mrs. Campbell was a refined, -delicately-nurtured woman, but none the less fearless in time of trial, -as the event proved. Hearing a noise, Mr. Campbell went out into a -passage, at the end of which he saw an armed man, who at once fired at -him. He returned fire without effect, retiring upon his base of -operations. A volley from the front of the house crashed through the -windows. The siege had begun. - -Mr. Campbell returned fire so accurately and repeatedly, having several -rifles and fowling-pieces, that the robbers believed more than one man -to be behind the defences. Mrs. Campbell carried ammunition and helped -to load. On one occasion, when crossing the line of fire, a bullet -grazed her neck. All this time the firing was kept up briskly, though -more than once a proposal came to harm nothing if the garrison -surrendered, but with ruffianly threats if the defence was continued. -One only reply was made, 'Come and take us.' - -After half an hour's incessant fusillade, a new idea struck the -attacking party. The outbuildings were composed of 'pisé,' a preparation -of rammed earth, as its name implies, much favoured by Mr. Campbell, and -singularly adapted for dwellings in an arid land. Now came a lull with -fresh disposition of forces. - -The stable immediately in the rear of the cottage was discovered to be -in flames. A favourite horse of Mr. Campbell's, unable to escape, was -burnt alive. As the screams of the tortured animal pierced the night -air, his owner (he confessed) felt uncommonly wolfish. 'I will have one -of you for poor Highflyer,' said he, as he ground his teeth. The burning -stable would have caused the roof of the cottage to catch fire, as there -was a dray loaded with hay standing between it and the back of the -house, had not Mrs. Campbell and the servant maid courageously covered -the hay with a tarpaulin. - -During the pause in the firing which took place, after the flames -lighted up the scene, Mrs. Campbell made an important reconnaissance. -Stealing to the corner of the verandah, she examined a high paling -fence, from behind which the assailants had commenced the attack. 'I -saw,' she told her husband on returning, 'a man jumping up from time to -time, and looking over towards the house.' - -Mr. Campbell awaited the next appearance, and, taking a snap-shot, sent -a bullet through the outlaw's throat. A final volley was fired and -returned. Then silence ensued. Half an hour afterwards the 'besieged -resident' walked down to the men's hut and brought up the station-hands, -who had preserved a strict neutrality during the engagement. They found -O'Malley lying dead under a tree, whither he had been dragged by his -companions through the standing oats. The siege of Goimbla had been -raised. - - * * * * * - -Mr. Keightley's experiences as a 'besieged resident' were not dissimilar -from those of Mr. Campbell. A Goldfields Commissioner, a sportsman, and -a determined man, he was attacked in his own house at Dunn's Plains, -near Bathurst, while the robbers of the escort were still at large. - -Like Mr. Campbell, he was prepared, was a dead shot, and killed one of -his assailants. I may mention that I knew Mr. Keightley well for many -years, and had the account of the affair from himself. The gang -surrounded the house at mid-day, and finding such cover as they might, -commenced firing, after calling upon the garrison to surrender. Mr. -Keightley, on his part, kept up a brisk fire from time to time, and -dislodged several of the besiegers from their hiding-places. He himself -narrowly escaped being hit on several occasions, as his position was not -completely protected. Bourke had been the most daring and aggressive of -the party, and in gaining a nearer position, he partially exposed -himself and was laid low by a snap-shot. - -Up to this stage of the affair the conditions were not unlike those of -the Goimbla siege. The robbers lost a man in each case. But here the -circumstances varied materially. The attack on Mr. Keightley's household -was during daylight—the one on Mr. Campbell's after nightfall. On the -death of O'Malley, the robbers decided upon a retreat; but soon after -Bourke fell, a discovery was made that Mr. Keightley's ammunition had -been expended. He was therefore at their mercy, and had no alternative -but to yield. - -The four persons then in the house—Mr. and Mrs. Keightley, Dr. Pechey, a -relative of the lady of the house, and a servant woman—surrendered -themselves to the bushrangers, who announced their intention of shooting -Mr. Keightley in requital for their comrade's death. To this end he was -marched to some distance by two of the bushrangers, while the others -were holding a colloquy with Mrs. Keightley and the servant, who -passionately implored them to spare Mr. Keightley's life. - -They retorted that he had not spared Bourke's, and also that 'he had -boasted that he would have the reward which the Government had offered -for their capture.' - -Mrs. Keightley replied that he had never dreamed of a reward: he was the -last man to take blood-money; if he had shot Bourke it was in defence of -his home, which any man would do. Furthermore, if they would allow her -to ride to Bathurst, she would undertake to bring them five hundred -pounds in notes on the following day. - -'How could you get that?' asked Ben Hall. - -'From my father. You know that he is a wealthy man, and would gladly -give it to me for such a purpose. Surely you will not kill my husband in -cold blood before my face?' - -The lady was young and beautiful. Her tears and entreaties in this dread -position were such as to have moved the sternest heart. She was a -native-born Australian, like themselves. - -They had shed blood, but it had been in fair fight. They had never been -accused of inhumanity otherwise. They relented, finally agreeing to take -the five hundred pounds if brought to a certain tree, visible for a -considerable distance, by a specified hour on the next day. The -messenger was to come alone. They would hold her husband as a hostage -for the performance of the bond. - -The two men told off as executioners had by this time called upon their -prisoner to turn his back towards them for the fatal shot. - -'I have never done that to any man living, and will not now,' returned -he; 'fire away!' - -As he folded his arms and looked his captors in the face, a voice was -heard from below— - -'Hold on! There's to be no shooting; we've agreed to take the money.' - -Mrs. Keightley was then suffered to depart in company with Dr. Pechey -for Bathurst, while her husband remained in the custody of the gang, -pending the arrival of the ransom. It may be imagined that his feelings -were of a mingled nature. He was assured of the safety of his wife. -Still, he could not be free from anxiety as to his own, in case of -default of payment or pursuit by the police. - -But the brave woman well performed her part. As the appointed hour on -the next day drew perilously near, a horseman was seen from afar to -approach the track to the well-known fire-scathed tree. He reached it, -and throwing down a package, returned as he came. It was speedily taken -possession of, and found to contain one hundred five-pound notes. - -Then Mr. Keightley was released. - -Many years have elapsed since these events took place. Few of the actors -are now living. The hand of time and the Nemesis of the law have thinned -the ranks of the combatants. Their deeds and adventures are passing into -the domain of legend and tradition. In a few decades they may take rank -with Dick Turpin and Claude Duval, while the feats of Gardiner's -'Darkie' may be quoted by the 'coming race' as in rivalry with those of -Black Bess of sainted memory. - - - - - THE END - - - - - _Printed by_ R. & R. CLARK, LIMITED, _Edinburgh_ - - - - - THE NOVELS OF ROLF BOLDREWOOD. - - - _Crown 8vo. 6s. each._ - -=IN BAD COMPANY=, and other Stories. - -=BABES IN THE BUSH.= - - _OUTLOOK._—"A lively and picturesque story." - - _DAILY TELEGRAPH._—"Bristles with thrilling incident." - -=WAR TO THE KNIFE; or, Tangata Maori.= - - _ACADEMY._—"A stirring romance." - -=A ROMANCE OF CANVAS TOWN=, and other Stories. - - _ATHENÆUM._—"The book is interesting for its obvious insight into - life in the Australian bush." - - _Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d. each._ - -=ROBBERY UNDER ARMS.= - - A STORY OF LIFE AND ADVENTURE IN THE BUSH AND IN THE - GOLD-FIELDS OF AUSTRALIA. - - _GUARDIAN._—"A singularly spirited and stirring tale of Australian - life, chiefly in the remoter settlements." - -=A MODERN BUCCANEER.= - - _DAILY CHRONICLE._—"We do not forget _Robbery under Arms_, or any of - its various successors, when we say that Rolf Boldrewood has never - done anything so good as _A Modern Buccaneer_. It is good, too, in a - manner which is for the author a new one." - -=THE MINER'S RIGHT.= - - A TALE OF THE AUSTRALIAN GOLD-FIELDS. - - _WORLD._—"Full of good passages, passages abounding in vivacity, in - the colour and play of life.... The pith of the book lies in its - singularly fresh and vivid pictures of the humours of the - goldfields—tragic humours enough they are, too, here and again." - -=THE SQUATTER'S DREAM.= - - _FIELD._—"The details are filled in by a hand evidently well - conversant with his subject, and everything is _ben trovato_, if not - actually true. A perusal of these cheerfully-written pages will - probably give a better idea of realities of Australian life than - could be obtained from many more pretentious works." - -=A SYDNEY-SIDE SAXON.= - - _GLASGOW HERALD._—"The interest never flags, and altogether A - _Sydney-Side Saxon_ is a really refreshing book." - -=A COLONIAL REFORMER.= - - _ATHENÆUM._—"A series of natural and entertaining pictures of - Australian life, which are, above all things, readable." - -=NEVERMORE.= - - _OBSERVER._—"An exciting story of Ballarat in the fifties. Its hero, - Lance Trevanion, is a character which for force of delineation has - no equal in Rolf Boldrewood's previous novels." - -=PLAIN LIVING.= A Bush Idyll. - - _ACADEMY._—"A hearty story, deriving charm from the odours of the - bush and the bleating of incalculable sheep." - -=MY RUN HOME.= - - _ATHENÆUM._—"Rolf Boldrewood's last story is a racy volume. It has - many of the best qualities of Whyte-Melville, the breezy freshness - and vigour of Frank Smedley, with the dash and something of the - abandon of Lever.... His last volume is one of his best." - -=THE SEALSKIN CLOAK.= - - _TIMES._—"A well-written story." - -=THE CROOKED STICK; or, Pollie's Probation.= - - _ACADEMY._—"A charming picture of Australian station life." - -=OLD MELBOURNE MEMORIES.= - - _NATIONAL OBSERVER._—"His book deserves to be read in England with - as much appreciation as it has already gained in the country of its - birth." - - _Fcap. 8vo. 2s._ - -=THE SPHINX OF EAGLEHAWK.= - - A TALE OF OLD BENDIGO. - - [_Macmillan's Pocket Novels._ - - _QUEEN._—"There is the usual mystery, the usual admirable - goldfields' local colour, which we expect from our favourite Rolf - Boldrewood." - - - - - MACMILLAN'S - - RECENT SUCCESSFUL NOVELS, - - - OF WHICH - - One Million and Fifty-seven Thousand Copies - have been sold. - - 365th Thousand. =RICHARD CARVEL.= - - By WINSTON CHURCHILL. - - 213th Thousand. =THE CHOIR INVISIBLE.= - - By JAMES LANE ALLEN. - - 120th Thousand. =THE INCREASING PURPOSE.= - - By JAMES LANE ALLEN. - - 100th Thousand. =IN THE PALACE OF THE KING.= - - By F. MARION CRAWFORD. - - 75th Thousand. =VIA CRUCIS.= - - By F. MARION CRAWFORD. - - 70th Thousand. =THE FOREST LOVERS.= - - By MAURICE HEWLETT. - - 47th Thousand. =THE PRIDE OF JENNICO.= - - By AGNES and EGERTON CASTLE. - - 44th Thousand. =YOUNG APRIL.= - - By EGERTON CASTLE. - - 23rd Thousand. =RICHARD YEA-AND-NAY.= - - By MAURICE HEWLETT. - - - - - MACMILLAN'S THREE-AND-SIX-PENNY - LIBRARY OF BOOKS BY - POPULAR AUTHORS - - - Crown 8vo. Cloth extra. 3s. 6d. each - - Containing works by - - =CHARLES DICKENS= - =W. M. THACKERAY= - =F. MARION CRAWFORD= - =ROSA N. CAREY= - =ROLF BOLDREWOOD= - =EGERTON CASTLE= - =HUGH CONWAY= - =MRS. CRAIK= - =SIR H. CUNNINGHAM= - =DEAN FARRAR= - =ARCHIBALD FORBES= - =W. WARDE FOWLER= - =BRET HARTE= - =THOMAS HUGHES= - =HENRY JAMES= - =SIR WALTER SCOTT= - =THOMAS HARDY= - =CHARLES KINGSLEY= - =CHARLOTTE M. YONGE= - =ANNIE KEARY= - =A. E. W. MASON= - =MAARTEN MAARTENS= - =F. D. MAURICE= - =D. CHRISTIE MURRAY= - =W. E. NORRIS= - =MRS. OLIPHANT= - =MRS. PARR= - =W. CLARK RUSSELL= - =J. H. SHORTHOUSE= - =JOHN TIMBS= - =E. WERNER= - =MONTAGU WILLIAMS= - - and other Writers - - - - - THREE-AND-SIXPENNY LIBRARY - - - _By ROLF BOLDREWOOD_ - - Robbery under Arms - The Miner's Right - The Squatter's Dream - A Sydney-side Saxon - A Colonial Reformer - Nevermore - A Modern Buccaneer - The Sealskin Cloak - Plain Living - The Crooked Stick - My Run Home - Old Melbourne Memories - War to the Knife - Romance of Canvas Town - Babes in the Bush - In Bad Company and other Stories - - _By ROSA NOUCHETTE CAREY_ - - Nellie's Memories - Wee Wifie - Barbara Heathcote's Trial - Robert Ord's Atonement - Wooed and Married - Heriot's Choice - Queenie's Whim - Mary St. John - Not Like Other Girls - For Lilias - Uncle Max - Only the Governess - Lover or Friend? - Basil Lyndhurst - Sir Godfrey's Granddaughters - The Old, Old Story - Mistress of Brae Farm - Mrs. Romney, and But Men Must Work - Other People's Lives - Rue with a Difference - Herb of Grace - - _By EGERTON CASTLE_ - - Consequences - The Bath Comedy - The Pride of Jennico - The Light of Scarthey - La Bella, and others - "Young April" - - _By HUGH CONWAY_ - - A Family Affair - Living or Dead - - _By Mrs. CRAIK_ - - Olive - The Ogilvies - Agatha's Husband - The Head of the Family - Two Marriages - The Laurel Bush - My Mother and I - Miss Tommy - King Arthur: Not a Love Story - About Money, and other Things - Concerning Men, and other Papers - - _By F. MARION CRAWFORD_ - - Mr. Isaacs - Dr. Claudius - A Roman Singer - Zoroaster - A Tale of a Lonely Parish - Marzio's Crucifix - Paul Patoff - With the Immortals - Greifenstein - Sant' Ilario - Cigarette-Maker's Romance - Khaled - The Witch of Prague - The Three Fates - Marion Darche - Children of the King - Katharine Lauderdale - Pietro Ghisleri - Don Orsino - The Ralstons - Casa Braccio - Adam Johnstone's Son - A Rose of Yesterday - Taquisara - Corleone - Via Crucis. A Romance of the Second Crusade - In the Palace of the King - - _By Sir H. CUNNINGHAM_ - - The Heriots - Wheat and Tares - The Coeruleans - - _By CHARLES DICKENS_ - - Reprints of the First Editions, with the Illustrations; and - Biographical and Bibliographical Introductions - by Charles Dickens the Younger - - Pickwick Papers - Oliver Twist - Nicholas Nickleby - Martin Chuzzlewit - The Old Curiosity Shop - Barnaby Rudge - Dombey and Son - Christmas Books - Sketches by Boz - David Copperfield - American Notes - Letters of Charles Dickens - Bleak House - Little Dorrit - Tale of Two Cities - - _'ENGLISH MEN OF LETTERS,' 13 vols._ - - I. Chaucer, Spenser, Dryden - - II. Milton, Goldsmith, Cowper - - III. Byron, Shelley, Keats - - IV. Wordsworth, Southey, Landor - - V. Lamb, Addison, Swift - - VI. Scott, Burns, Coleridge - - VII. Hume, Locke, Burke - - VIII. Defoe, Sterne, Hawthorne - - IX. Fielding, Thackeray, Dickens - - X. Gibbon, Carlyle, Macaulay - - XI. Sydney, De Quincey, Sheridan - - XII. Pope, Johnson, Gray - - XIII. Bacon, Bunyan, Bentley - - _By DEAN FARRAR_ - - Seekers after God - Eternal Hope - The Fall of Man - Witness of History to Christ - Silence and Voices of God - In the Days of thy Youth - Saintly Workers - Ephphatha - Mercy and Judgment - Sermons in America - - _By ARCHIBALD FORBES_ - - Barracks, Bivouacs, and Battles - Souvenirs of Some Continents - - _By W. WARDE FOWLER_ - - A Year with the Birds - Tales of the Birds - More Tales of the Birds - Summer Studies of Birds and Books - - _By THOMAS HARDY_ - - Tess of the D'Urbervilles - Far from the Madding Crowd - The Mayor of Casterbridge - A Pair of Blue Eyes - Two on a Tower - The Return of the Native - The Woodlanders - Jude the Obscure - The Trumpet-Major - The Hand of Ethelberta - A Laodicean - Desperate Remedies - Wessex Tales - Life's Little Ironies - A Group of Noble Dames - Under the Greenwood Tree - The Well Beloved - Wessex Poems and other Verses - Poems of the Past and the Present - - _By BRET HARTE_ - - Cressy: A Novel - A First Family of Tasajara - The Heritage of Dedlow Marsh - - _By THOMAS HUGHES_ - - Tom Brown's Schooldays - Tom Brown at Oxford - Scouring of the White Horse - Alfred the Great - - _By HENRY JAMES_ - - A London Life - The Aspern Papers, etc. - The Tragic Muse - - _By ANNIE KEARY_ - - A York and a Lancaster Rose - Castle Daly - Janet's Home - Oldbury - A Doubting Heart - Nations around Israel - - _By CHARLES KINGSLEY_ - - Westward Ho! - Hypatia - Yeast - Alton Locke - Two Years Ago - Hereward the Wake - Poems - The Heroes - The Water Babies - Madam How and Lady Why - At Last - Prose Idylls - Plays and Puritans - The Roman and the Teuton - Sanitary and Social Lectures - Historical Lectures and Essays - Scientific Lectures and Essays - Literary and General Lectures - The Hermits - Glaucus - Village and Town and Country Sermons - The Water of Life, and other Sermons - Sermons on National Subjects - Sermons for the Times - Good News of God - The Gospel of the Pentateuch, etc. - Discipline, and other Sermons - Westminster Sermons - All Saints' Day, and other Sermons - - _By MAARTEN MAARTENS_ - - An Old Maid's Love - The Greater Glory - My Lady Nobody - God's Fool - The Sin of Joost Avelingh - Her Memory - - _By A. E. W. MASON_ - - The Courtship of Morrice - Buckler - The Philanderers - Miranda of the Balcony - - _By F. D. MAURICE_ - - Lincoln's Inn Sermons. Vol. I. - " " II. - " " III. - " " IV. - " " V. - " " VI. - Sermons Preached in Country Churches. - Christmas Day - Theological Essays - Prophets and Kings - Patriarchs and Lawgivers - Gospel of Kingdom of Heaven - Gospel of St. John - Epistles of St. John - Friendship of Books - Prayer Book and Lord's Prayer - Doctrine of Sacrifice - Acts of the Apostles - - _By D. CHRISTIE MURRAY_ - - Aunt Rachel - Schwartz - The Weaker Vessel - John Vale's Guardian - - _By W. E. NORRIS_ - - Thirlby Hall - Bachelor's Blunder - - _By Mrs. OLIPHANT_ - - Neighbours on the Green - Joyce - Kirsteen - A Beleaguered City - Hester - He that Will Not when He May - The Railway Man - Marriage of Elinor - Sir Tom - The Heir-Presumptive, etc. - A Country Gentleman - A Son of the Soil - The Second Son - The Wizard's Son - The Curate in Charge - Lady William - Young Musgrave - - _By Mrs. PARR_ - - Dorothy Fox - Adam and Eve - Loyalty George - Robin - - _By W. CLARK RUSSELL_ - - Marooned - A Strange Elopement - - _By Sir WALTER SCOTT_ - - The Large-type Illustrated Border Edition of THE WAVERLEY NOVELS - In 24 volumes - - Waverley - Guy Mannering - The Antiquary - Rob Roy - Old Mortality - The Heart of Midlothian - A Legend of Montrose, and the Black Dwarf - The Bride of Lammermoor - Ivanhoe - The Abbot - The Monastery - Kenilworth - The Pirate - The Fortunes of Nigel - Peveril of the Peak - Quentin Durward - St. Ronan's Well - Redgauntlet - The Betrothed, and The Talisman - Woodstock - The Fair Maid of Perth - Anne of Geierstein - Count Robert of Paris, and The Surgeon's Daughter - Castle Dangerous, Chronicles of the Canongate, etc. - - _By J. H. SHORTHOUSE_ - - John Inglesant - Sir Percival - Little Schoolmaster Mark - The Countess Eve - A Teacher of the Violin - Blanche, Lady Falaise - - _By W. M. THACKERAY_ - - Reprints of the First Editions, with all the Original Illustrations, - Facsimiles of Wrappers, etc. - - Vanity Fair - The History of Pendennis - The Newcomes - The Virginians - The History of Henry Esmond - Barry Lyndon and Catherine - Paris and Irish Sketch Books - Christmas Books - Burlesques, From Cornhill to Grand Cairo, and Juvenilia - Book of Snobs, Miss Tickletoby's Lectures, History of the next French - Revolution, A Little Dinner at Timmins', etc. - The Yellowplush Correspondence, Diary and Letters of James de la - Pluche, History of Samuel Titmarsh and the Great Hoggarty Diamond, - and Contributions to the Constitutional [and Public Ledger] - Critical Papers in Literature and Art - The Fitzboodle Papers, Men's Wives, The Second Funeral of Napoleon, and - other Sketches - Lovel the Widower, and other Stories - Lectures on the English Humorists of the Eighteenth Century, The Four - Georges, Charity and Humour, etc. - Sketches and Travels in London, Mrs. Brown's Letters to a Young Man - about Town, The Proser - Ballads and Verses, Miscellaneous Contributions to _Punch_ - - _Other Volumes to follow_ - - _By JOHN TIMBS_ - - Lives of Painters - Lives of Statesmen - Doctors and Patients - Wits and Humourists. 2 vols. - - _By E. WERNER_ - - Success, and How he won it - Fickle Fortune - - _By MONTAGU WILLIAMS_ - - Leaves of a Life - Later Leaves - Round London - - _By CHARLOTTE M. YONGE_ - - The Heir of Redclyffe - Heartsease - Hopes and Fears - Dynevor Terrace - The Daisy Chain - The Trial - Pillars of the House. Vol. I. - " " II. - The Young Stepmother - Clever Woman of the Family - The Three Brides - My Young Alcides - The Caged Lion - The Dove in the Eagle's Nest - The Chaplet of Pearls - Lady Hester, and Danvers Papers - Magnum Bonum - Love and Life - Unknown to History - Stray Pearls - The Armourer's 'Prentices - The Two Sides of the Shield - Nuttie's Father - Scenes and Characters - Chantry House - A Modern Telemachus - Bywords - Beechcroft at Rockstone - More Bywords - A Reputed Changeling - The Little Duke - The Lances of Lynwood - The Prince and the Page - Two Penniless Princesses - That Stick - An Old Woman's Outlook - Grisly Grisell - The Release - The Long Vacation - Ben Beriah - Henrietta's Wish - The Two Guardians - Countess Kate, and the Stokesley Secret - Modern Broods - - _By C. M. YONGE and C. R. COLERIDGE_ - - Strolling Players - - _By VARIOUS WRITERS_ - - Hogan, M.P. - Flitters, Tatters, and the Counsellor - The New Antigone - Tim - Memories of Father Healy - CUTCLIFFE HYNE.—The "Paradise" Coal-Boat - CANON ATKINSON.—The Last of the Giant Killers - R. H. BARHAM.—The Ingoldsby Legends - HAWLEY SMART.—Breezie Langton - ANTHONY TROLLOPE.—The Three Clerks - SIR H. LYTTON BULWER.—Historical Characters - RICHARD JEFFERIES.—The Dewy Morn - FRANK BUCKLAND.—Curiosities of Natural History. 4 vols. - MRS. HUMPHRY WARD.—Miss Bretherton - D. C. MURRAY and H. HERMAN.—He fell among Thieves - LUCAS MALET.—Mrs. Lorimer - LANOE FALCONER.—Cecilia de Noël - M. M'LENNAN.—MuckleJock, and other Stories - MAJOR GAMBIER PARRY.—The Story of Dick - S. R. LYSAGHT.—The Marplot - SIR H. M. DURAND.—Helen Treveryan - MARCHESA THEODOLI.—Under Pressure - W. C. RHOADES.—John Trevennick - E. C. PRICE—In the Lion's Mouth - BLENNERHASSET AND SLEEMAN.—Adventures in Mashonaland - W. FORBES-MITCHELL.—Reminiscences of the Great Mutiny - REV. J. GILMORE.—Storm Warriors - LORD REDESDALE.—Tales of Old Japan - SIR S. BAKER.—True Tales for my Grandsons - HENRY KINGSLEY.—Tales of Old Travel - W. P. FRITH, R.A.—My Autobiography - CAMILLE ROUSSET.—Recollections of Marshal Macdonald - CHARLES WHITEHEAD.—Richard Savage - F. A. MIGNET.—Mary Queen of Scots - F. GUIZOT.—Oliver Cromwell - M. R. MITFORD.—Literary Recollections - REV. R. H. D. BARHAM.—Life of R. H. Barham - —— Life of Theodore Hook - Biographies of Eminent Persons Vol. I. - " " II. - " " III. - " " IV. - " " V. - Annual Summaries. Vol. I. - " " II. - Masson's French Dictionary - Shakespeare's Works. Vol. I. - " " II. - " " III. - - MACMILLAN AND CO., LTD., LONDON - - - - - TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES - - - 1. Silently corrected simple spelling, grammar, and typographical - errors. - 2. Retained anachronistic and non-standard spellings as printed. - 3. Enclosed italics font in _underscores_. - 4. 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