Broad Outlines of long years in Australia

Preface

. This is a sketch of real experience during many years of my life in the Bush. It does not pretend to be a novel, but is told as a story at the suggestion of many who pictured the life as nothing but a scene of hardships and banishment from civilization. CONTENTS. CHAP. PAGE I. THE OLD HOME . . . . .1 II. THE BACKWOODSMAN . . . .11 m. THE PROPOSAL . . . . .20 TV. UNCERTAINTY . . . . .25 V. THE VOYAGE . . . . .36 VI. MELBOURNE . . . . .46 VII. FIRST IMPRESSIONS . . . .61 VIII. THROUGH THE FORESTS . . . .84 IX. THE BLACKS ..... 104 X. THE STRANGE LIGHT .... 126 XI. THE RACES ..... 132 XII. THE CORROBOREE . . . .137 XIII. A WINTER JOURNEY .... 149 XTV. THE RIVEB ..... 165 XV. VISITS AND VISITORS .... 181 XVI. A lubra's death .... 192 xvn. THE BUCK JUMPER .... CONTENTS. CHAP. PAGE xvni. SHADOWS . . . . .211 XIX.

HOMEWARD BOUND .... 220 XX. GATHERING CLOUDS .... 229 XXI. A HORRID MAN ..... 2.38 XXII. THE DARKEST HOUR .... 249 XXIII. GREY DAYS ..... 255 XXIV. NEVER TRAVEL ALONE .... LONG YEABS IN AUSTRALIA.

Chapter I. The Old Home

There is in the county of Limeshire an old Elizabethan mansion, which for curiosity and beauty is surpassed, I believe, by only one other in England. It is built almost entirely of wood and stucco, with many gables and tapering pinnacles, latticed windows. and ancient porch with oak seats, and massive door studded with huge old nails. There are two wings, and attached to one an exquisite little chapel — a perfect gem of its kind. Approached by a long straight avenue, little is seen of the house until you come close upon it, when at a glance the mind wanders far back to the middle ages, pictures the old baron surrounded by his retainers, standing in that porch either to welcome with lordly hospitality some cherished friend, or stirrup cup in hand to speed the parting guest ; or maybe preparing for hawking or the chase, the ladies with their maidens gathering round, leaving their tapestry or household cares to bid them good luck.

It stands not very far back from the road, embosomed in trees and surrounded by luxuriant meadows. Going past the little chapel, you enter the garden from the stoned courtyard, through a gate in LONG YEAES IN AUSTRALIA. a high iron screen, to the bright old-fashioned flower beds, stiffly bordered with low box edgings, standing in gravel paths, with quaint old apple trees throwing their shade over flowers of more modern date. Prim rows of hedges screened the hotbeds and vegetables from the view, and following the pathway by the hedge to the other side, you came upon an old postern gate in the high brick wall which surrounded these grounds, which led out into the fields beyond, and under the old limes which grew in stately rows by the terrace walk, the walls and buttresses of which were covered with ivy and luxuriant blush roses.

Here was the old sundial, with1 the date 1572 upon it; seats to lounge on in hot summer evenings, or a dry walk always when rain fell or the snow lay thick upon the ground. The old stone steps were worn by time and the feet of many generations who had paced up and down, from the toddling darlings scramb ling up to seek their mother's fond caress, fond lovers listening to each other's vows and that sweet old story which yet is ever new, or by the pale moonlight with broken accents parting never to meet again, to the aged pair who come to sun themselves upon its sheltered path and crone together of by gone days, compared to which the present time was not to be mentioned: all things had changed, and for the worse, and so had they ; theirs was the day, theirs the time to have lived in, not in these degenerate days.

And in the time of which I write truly the glory had departed from the old hall, and in its stead reigned ruin and decay. Grass grew in the neglected avenue, up the old stone steps and terraced walk ; and in the once trim courtyard below, where in the palmy days guest after guest had ever found the warmest welcome, silence reigned comparatively : for still the voices of the young might be heard, which saved the grand old hall from utter desolation. The squire still lived there, happier in clinging to his old ancestral walls than seeking a home in foreign lands, still loved and sympathised with by all ; for though few visitors now ever came to call, think not that it was because the inmates were no longer rich. No, some of the world's false friends may act in this wise ; not so the staunch and true : if they kept away 'twas from the kindly thoughtful sense of not intruding in the saddening change.

Follow me through the old porch into the hall paved with flags, wainscoted in blackest oak and hung with portraits of generations gone before, banners of shrievalties, javelins, and hauberks. Large dogs stand in the deep fire-place; a table of solid oak is in the centre, twenty-three feet long, and bears the date 1581, the heart in the middle which divided the retainers from the family and guests ; high backed chairs stand in stately rows round the walls, and at one side is a small raised dais. Come up the grand old staircase, black with time, to what we called the upper drawing-room, panelled like all the rest of the house with oak, and leading down a few steps to the gallery of the little chapel, where we always sat on Sunday evenings, while my uncle read prayers below. This chapel was a gem in its way, lined with carved oak.

Oliver Cromwell's soldiers are said to' have stabled their horses here, and desecrated its sacred precincts, where in bygone days the solemn services of the Church and holy chant and psalm had been heard. In the dim light cast by its painted windows and darkened walls, a quiet hush came over one's life, when stealing away for thought and calm, you closed the panelled door, and none knew you were there save One. There was a slip panel in this drawing-room, and behind it a large cupboard or recess, which had no doubt in former years held many a cavalier in hiding from' his foes. We often thought, if those old walls could speak, what strange romantic stories they could tell, and all the old surroundings of the place filled our girlish hearts with even more romance than is common at that age. It was more cheerful than the lower rooms, although its heavy carved oak furniture gave it a sombre look, relieved however by modern ornaments, books, work, paintings, and the thousand nick-nacks lying about, which prove a place in daily use.

In an arm-chair drawn close up to the fire — for it is winter, and snow lying thick upon the ground — sits a lady in middle life, tall, pale, and thin to painful ness. Her deeply set, large, dark blue eyes, the lines on her lofty forehead, and a compressed set look about the mouth, prove that sorrow and much care have been her portion. Wealth and high position once were hers, children surrounded her, and all was sun shine ; now the first has taken unto itself wings, never to return ; the second she can never lose, and bears with a quiet dignity and unchanged pride her altered state : and yet, as she turns to speak, her cordial manner and kindly smile tell not of the hidden load within. And thus it is with many ; for often those who appear the lightest hearted have the deepest cares, but deem it selfish to burthen others with them.

I think we scarcely realize enough how much a genial kindly smile and word may change the gloomy current of another's thoughts, and send them on their way with lighter hearts. " Mamma, mamma, some visitors ! " cried a bright eyed, rosy cheeked girl about fifteen, as she burst noisily into the room. " Well, my child, I am at home. Perhaps they will stay to luncheon — see that we have enough. If your father is in, tell him. I rather expected these gentle men, though being a hunting day, I wasn't sure that they would come." A ring at the hall door-bell made Mary escape with rapid steps, and as the men were shown upstairs, she disappeared along the gallery, and down to the other wing, where sat two other girls, one about her own age, one older. " Dears," she exclaimed, " two visitors ! — Captain Swift and a perfect stranger.

Mamma said they might stay to luncheon, so I'm away to tell the cook." " No, Mary, stay a minute, and tell us what he's like." " I couldn't really, dears, I only caught a passing glimpse as he walked up the avenue. He is tall and dark and stout, I think ; but if they stay you'll see for yourselves. Mamma said she half expected them. I wonder who he is." In the seclusion to which I have before alluded, the advent of any one was a great event. " He has come at last," laughed Ethel, " and without an accident ; " — for in the great monotony they had often wished that some young gentleman would be good enough to be thrown from his horse at the avenue gate, carried in with a broken limb, which would necessitate his staying for some time, and give the young nurses — as each would then become — em ployment, and food for thought and fun, if not for deeper feelings.

Luncheon was served. One by one they all assembled, and in walked the stranger, with Mrs. Delmore on his arm. " My daughter, Mr. Williams, — my nieces. Mary, is your father out ? " " I think he rode down to the farm, mamma, and may not be in for some time, but at any rate he never takes luncheon. Captain Swift, will you sit here ? In papa's absence, I will take his place." "Do you make a long stay in England, Mr. Williams ? " asked Mrs. Delmore. " About two years, I hope," was the reply. " After so long an absence I may allow myself a lengthened holiday, and intend to travel when the hunting and shooting seasons are over." " Have you much sport in Australia ? We know so little of that country, — indeed until the last few years we scarcely heard of it." Once started on this wide topic, Mi-.

Williams and Mrs. Delmore engrossed the whole conversation, and the girls left Captain Swift to discuss his cold beef and home brewed ale, whilst they listened with great interest to the accounts of the wild life and distant lands from whence this stranger came. He told of the wildest rides over wide grassy plains after cattle or hunting kangaroo, of balmy nights with moonlight so intense that to read was easy, of the silence broken only by the bittern in the swamp, the lonely curlew's cry or wild dog's howl, of his flocks and herds that roamed over miles of trackless forests, where the black man still was lord of his hunting grounds, and watched with jealous, wondering, savage gaze the approach of the white beings they had never seen before ; in short painted a life so full of romance and daring exploits, that no wonder the girls forgot his cousin, Captain Swift, who had walked over with him, and were lost in the interest of the new existence he depicted in such glowing colours.

" Come up to the drawing-room again, Mary," said Ethel ; " I am really quite interested in this new man, and want to hear all he says to your mother about this curious country where I have always longed to go ever since I was a child and read about Port Jack son and Botany Bay in the Missionary Magazine." " Sophy, do you hear what Ethel says ? she seems greatly taken with Mr. Williams. For my part, although his stories are very amusing, I don't care much about him — the backwoods have no charms for me." " I'll go with you, Ethel," said Sophy, " and talk to poor Captain Swift, who is playing second fiddle to-day if he never did so before, and you can listen to your heart's content to the Australian." So up they went, and found Mr. Williams discussing rather dry topics, but Mrs. Delmore was naturally anxious to gain all the information she could for her son.

" I shall be very happy to give your son an intro duction to my brother, who will give him an insight into station Use before he enters upon it for himself." " That will be most kind of you," replied Mrs. Del more, " and is what I could scarcely have expected on so short an acquaintance. My son will have a small sum — about three thousand pounds," she continued, becoming wondrously confidential to this stranger. "His father is naturally anxious that it should be invested securely, or at any rate fairly well, as no doubt in these new countries risks must be run." " If your son has the money you mention I should advise him to find a partner with an equal sum, which would make six thousand ; with this money they could go out, take a station (paying down the amount in hard cash), worth £18,000, and arrange to pay oft' the rest in three, four, or five years, according to the agree ment between the man from whom they took it and themselves."

" Yes, that sounds very good ; still I don't under stand how they will pay the rest." "With the first sum they purchase, say 15,000 sheep ; this Avill include all the improvements at the home station and on the run generally, and the first clip of wool will enable them, unless drought or any very unforeseen occurrence takes place, to pay off the instalment. It will of course give them very little to live upon, and nothing to spend on luxuries or amuse ments ; but as getting out of debt will be their great object, that will be of the last consideration." " Well, and how long now do you think it would take to become clear of all debt ? " asked Mrs. Delmore. "That would depend first on themselves, and secondly, as I said just now, on lucky years, free from drought and disease, with the wool market tolerably high.

There are many and great expenses in working a large station ; — the overseer, for of course at first your son would do wisely to engage an experienced working man, unless he had the good luck to join as partner with one who thoroughly understood squatting, and this would of course save a great deal at the very commencement ; when shear ing the men are paid from fourteen to fifteen shillings a hundred, are fed and housed ; packing the wool in bales, carting, which, if he were as we are hundreds of miles from town, in itself costs a great deal, to say nothing of the men required for repairing and attend ing to the boundaries. — But I should apologise (bowing to Mrs. Delmore and Ethel, who was Iistening attentively) " for these details, which I could scarcely expect you to understand," said Mr. Williams.

" But we thank you so much. I only wish my son Edward had been at home ; unfortunately he has gone out with the hounds, but I hope you will come over again and be introduced to him. As you hunt, why not send your horse here for the meet, which will I think be at Halston next week, and arrange to stay with us a day or two? It will give us great pleasure, although I fear my motives may seem interested," said Mrs. Delmore, as Mr. Williams and his cousin rose to leave. " I shall be very happy to do so indeed." And as he spoke he cast an admiring glance on Ethel. " John," said Williams, as they walked down the avenue, " I'll marry that girl if she'll have me." " Which girl ? " " The fair one, the smallest and the quietest ; I'll have her if I can." " Papa has come back, Sophy," said Mary, looking into the drawing-room ; " let us leave Ethel to her reverie, in which she seems lost, picturing feasts on black swans, rides on kangaroos and other absurdities.

He is down in the study smoking, and I am longing to have a chat with him, dear old Fatty, so come away." The study was a rare old haunt, well known to all the benedicts and bachelors in the county ; here they smoked the pipes of peace or fragrant cigars, and drawing round the splendid wood fire after a long day in the turnips or after the fox, stretched their somewhat weary limbs and discussed a magnum of port, of a vintage few could rival. Panelled like the lost of the building, with well lined bookcases, writing tables, luxurious sofas and chairs, pictures of old favourite hunters and dogs hanging on the walls, and old arms piled in corners, it was the snuggest spot in the house ; and there sat the old man in his great arm-chair, his legs stretched out, a dog on either side. How handsome he looks, the very picture of the real country squire, who only wanted ten thousand a year to make him perfect.

Sitting down beside him, Mary takes his hand, and strokes it caressingly. " Are you tired, papa ? What a night it is ! the snow is falling thickly. I wonder Bess didn't stumble with you up the hill." " Not tired at all. What news, eh, my dear ? " " Well, we had two men to luncheon, Captain Swift and a cousin from Australia. I'll just tell you what he is like. Tall, dark, with grey hair and black mous tache, cut just like a brush ; a good figure, only too stout for me and too old, — I should say he was past forty ; he has small, keen, hazel eyes, which look out from under such bushy eyebrows, and a mouth and chin which seem very large and heavy. He looks a very determined man. I was a little frightened of him, Fatty, though he was most agreeable and full of fun. Ethel never took her eyes off him."

"Just give me that footstool, I feel a twinge of the gout. Has Ned come home ? He had a long ride to cover this morning. How the wind howls ! I hope the chimneys will stand. Draw round the fire, girls, and let us be jolly ; you don't mind a pipe, I know."

Chapter II. The Backwoodsman

Shall we take a look at Ethel, as she sits by the fire at the farthest end of that long large room, staring into the flames and deep in thought ? She is very fair, with hair which in the sunlight is a sheet of gold ; small well cut features, full of expression, approaching at times to melancholy, and yet which changed with every varying emotion of her heart and mind ; and a slight and well proportioned form. You couldn't call her pretty, but would become interested in her at once : there are many such, who from their very childhood seem to set one wondering what their fate will be. There was a knock at the door, and there entered two young men, the one Edward Delmore, tall, dark, and very slight, the other Dick Carr, Ethel's brother, fair, and very erect, Avith a visible patch at the side of his head just above the temple, the remains of a wound from a shell splinter which had laid him senseless on the open space that led up to the Redan.

He had only returned a few weeks from the Crimea, and was being made much of. " Dear boys, come in by all means. We will diaw that old arm-chair up. Here is a pillow, for your head, Dick, and you, Ned, take the sofa. Shall I ring for some tea ? there is an hour or more to dinner." " No tea, thanks, I don't want to spoil my dinner as you women do," said Dick. " I saw Williams drive up just now with a pair of slashing tandem horses and pretty dog-cart — awfully neat turn out. He evidently knows how to take care of himself, for he was enveloped in furs — fur coat, fur rug, fur hat for aught I know : looks as rich as Crœsus." " Hush, Dick ! " cried Sophy, who joined them as he was speaking. " Ethel is rather dreamy about him since he was here to luncheon one day before you came, and talked most beautifully about Australian wilds."

" Ha ! ha ! Ethel gone on the backwoodsman, eh ? All the better for us. You cultivate his acquaintance : a rich brother-in-law is by no means a bad connection." " I don't know that he could ever do you much good, but" (turning to Ned) " he has offered to help you. I heard him giving aunt a great many useful hints, and I advise you to have a long chat with him, since you really mean to go out, Ned." " I believe it will end in your going too, — not with me, dear Ethel, for I couldn't take care of you, but with Williams." " He is old enough to be my father," said Ethel. " Certainly I am very tired of the humdrum every day life we all lead, I should like to see a little of the world ; but it does seem such an immense distance to go with a man you know nothing of." " Of course just now he is only a stranger to us all, but something tells me you are booked for the Bush, as they call it," said Ned, " and that we shall meet there yet."

" One is almost afraid to think of marrying," said Ethel : " for one that is happy I am sure there are nine the reverse." " Oh, come," said both the young men at once, " we won't have that; there isn't a woman who doesn't wish to be married, and imagines she will be the happiest of her sex. There is the dressing bell, — time for you girls to rig out. Come along, Dick, I see old Joe has lighted up the gallery and all down the great staircase as in days gone by ; he is a regular old Caleb Balderstone, determined to keep up the honour of the house." It was quite a bright family party that met in the drawing-room before dinner. Reginald Carr, the father of Ethel, Sophy, and Dick, had arrived by a late train, and there was a buzz of welcomes as he entered, every one asking questions at the same time, and scarcely waiting for answers.

He was a very gentlemanly man of middle height, spare frame, lofty brow and classic features ; he looked so young, that no one gave him credit for being the father of the grown up children who surrounded him. Mr. Williams took Mrs. Delmore down, and sat opposite to Ethel, which Lord Byron says is the next best thing to sitting next the person who interests you. Joe had indeed been at work, and the fine old room looked perfection. The fire glowed brightly, reflected in the glossy tiles, the deep red curtains contrasting so well with the dark oak wainscoting; the ceiling, where Neptune sitting in his car, drawn by dolphins and attended by sea gods, stood out in bold relief, the Turkey carpet and polished floor, made altogether a fine setting for this old English family party, which will rarely be seen elsewhere.

As they left the room to join the ladies upstairs Ned Delmore said to Mr. Williams, that if he would go with him into the study, over a pipe and bottle of wine after the rest had retired for the night, he would be glad to get some advice as to his future life in the colonies, and thanked him very much for his kind promise of introducing him to his family there ; so as nothing very interesting is going on beyond a few songs from the girls, and general conversation, we will go with Ned into the study as proposed, and hear what Mr. Williams has to say. " If you like," said he, " I'll just give you a little sketch of my life. My father was a wealthy man, but at his death it was found that he had left us all unprovided for, to begin the world afresh. I was then about eight-and-twenty, and determined on seek ing my fortune in the new world.

So after realizing the little which was still ours, my young brother and I started for the Antipodes. The voyage will not be worth describing. We were four months at sea, with none of the comforts which you will now find on board the vessels of the present day. " Leaving the ship at Sandridge, we were taken up the Yarra in a wretched contrivance by courtesy called a steamer, to Melbourne, which was then little better than a bog, for the winter had been severe, that is, rainy, and the streets were perfectly unmade, with the stumps of the trees still remaining. From these stumps the inhabitants were wont to chip fire-wood. so you may imagine the primitive state of things. We managed to get quarters at an inn situated where the market now stands, but as our finances did not allow us to remain there, we rented a skillion, or leanto hut, near Pentridge, furnished it with our belong ings, and commenced, as soon as we could look around us, to wash the linen used during the voyage, the charge for which was so high that we determined to try what we could do.

You may suppose that we managed to rub the skin fron/our knuckles much better than the dirt from the clothes ; still, by patience and perseverance Ave accomplished the task. We remained there six months, breaking-in two colts we purchased, of course looking out for something to do all the time, and at last purchased a thousand ewes for £750. We paid £500 down, and gave a bill for the remainder at tAvelve months. It was arranged that a piece of country should be given with the sheep, and that they should be kept for six months for us, as that which we were to have Avas destitute of everything ; in fact, it Avas a portion of the run that had never been used, and, consequently, did not even boast of an out station. We had no money to purchase a teem of bullocks, so engaged a dray and driver to take us up to the place, fifty miles from toAvn.

The man proved to be quite as inexperienced in driving as ourselves, so we had quite as much to do in that way as he had. The roads (every place where a dray has left a track is called a road in Australia), were of course as bad as could be, and when I tell you that we had to cross the ' Big Hill,' (you may see it some day ; it Avas known for many years after for the dangers and difficulties it presented to bullock drivers,) you can imagine how badly Ave fared. In the course of a week we drew near to what AAras to be out home for some few years, and the superintendent of the station piloted us through the Bush without any track at all, to our part of the run. It was a lonely spot, a sort of promontory Avith a creek some distance beneath, the view bounded by a magnificent outline of well-timbered ranges terminating in the ' Big Hill ' before mentioned.

Our driver turned the bullocks out for a few hours to feed, and then yoking them up again, turned their heads on to the track they had just made, and left us. But I weary you, perhaps," said Williams, turning to Ned. " On the contrary, I am much interested. Pray help yourself to wine, and I will put another log on the fire. Is it likely that I shall have the same things to encounter ? " "Oh, no, not quite so bad. This was in the very early days : we landed in October, 1842. Everything has made rapid strides since then, although of course now in the back blocks there isn't much civilization." " You must have felt lonely indeed ; it is impossible for us to realize it." " Lonely enough : not a road save the track we had just made, not a human being within miles ; our boxes, provisions, flour, tea, sugar, and salt beef lying before us, just as they had been tumbled out of the dray.

We Avere well supplied with tools, and as it was evident that if we intended to put our things in order, and protect them and ourselves from the rain, the sooner we commenced the better, we set to work. The plateau on which we were was very well timbered with the mimosa, many of them very straight, and we soon cut down sufficient to make a good frame over which to stretch our large tarpaulin. We now had a home, and here we managed to live until we got a hut built : to do this we had to go through many experiences. " In the first place Ave engaged three men — bushmen they were called — accustomed to build huts, etc. Two soon left us, so Lionel (my brother) and the third man, an old hand called 'White-headed Bob,' and myself, began the building. We were his slaves : we felled the trees and cut them up ; he doing the artistic work, such as splitting shingles, etc. ; and in course of time, after many a hard day's Avork, huts, paddocks, and a wool-shed grew up around us.