A Bride's Experiment. A story of Australian bush life

Front matter

A STORY OF AUSTRALIAN BUSH LIFE BY CHARLES J. MANSFORD AUTHOR OF "SHAFTS FROM AN EASTERN QUIVER," ETC. and JOHN A. INGLEBRIGHT LONDON BELLAIRS & CO. CHAPTEE I THE ARRIVAL OF THE BRIDE In spite of the teat, which registered a hundred degrees Fahrenheit in the shade, Dingo Creek was able to feel the excitement of what was coming, and the whole population, numbering about three hundred souls, exclusive of aboriginals, turned out. Higgins, the owner of Dingo Creek Hotel, which was by far the most important building in the township, stood in earnest conversation with MacArthur, the owner of the stores that bore his name. Together they sauntered across to the small railway station to interview Johnson, the man in charge. " Got everything ready, Johnson ? " asked Higgins. " Very nearly ; I expect there'll be a mighty crowd to meet them," Johnson replied.

" Crowd ! well, rather, I should say there would be a crowd ; and if Harry Gardiner and the ladies don't get a royal welcome, I shall be very much surprised." " It's a risky thing to do, in my opinion," said MacArthur thoughtfully, as he filled his pipe. A "What, to give them a reception?" asked Johnson. " No, taking two young women direct from a severe winter in England to a place like Woonboweena Downs." " Well, yes, there's something in that, Mac ; but there's one thing certain, it can't give this place much of a start." So did Higgins answer. " You're right, old chap, for God knows this is bad enough. Yet what's a man to do? My wife says she'll stay here as long as I do, and I'm hanged if I can get away." " That's just what my wife says, and for the matter of that I'm jolly glad she does," chuckled Higgins.

"I'll swear my wife shall never see Dingo Creek," chimed in Johnson. " You've got to get one first, my boy," suggested MacArthur. "Perhaps," replied Johnson shortly, as he turned away. Just then Hall, the bank manager, and Noble, the postmaster, catching sight of Higgins, came up and joined the party. The conversation then became general, until Noble suggested an adjournment to the hotel, which was agreed to without dissent. Dingo Creek was certainly not a place in which one would reside from choice, the majority of its residents being compelled to do so by business or other reasons. Situated in the centre of a mighty, barren plain, it resembled a ship adrift on a surging ocean. The name it bore was taken from a shallow stream that flowed only when the country was saturated with heavy rains, after which it was content to form a chain of lagoons or pools.

Chapter II The Two Daughters

When it became known that Colonel Wilson had died suddenly, considerable excitement was roused among both his friends and relatives. All were ready to con dole and to offer advice to his two daughters, and many were the callers at Ivy Lodge. The lodge itself was an old-fashioned building, sur rounded by high walls covered with ivy. It stood on the outskirts of Bayswater, and was entered by an old-fashioned gate, which seemed to expostulate each time it was moved on its rusty, creaking hinges. Colonel Wilson had belonged to a good English family, and had seen much active service abroad. In the early days when he was a young Sub he had set his heart on a lady well able to return his affections, but her relatives, who were purse-proud and vulgar, did not understand what position good breeding gave a man who was not overburdened with this world's riches.

They therefore strenuously opposed the match, with the result that the two lovers agreed that it was better to part than to begin life by Wilson's un welcome intrusion into a family which he despised because of the sordid slave-market view which was put upon the daughters' prospects. So Wilson went abroad and bore his trouble as only a brave man could. Years after he returned, and, feeling the utter loneliness of his life, he married a woman many years younger than himself, to whom he proved an exem plary husband. Five years later the wife died, leaving two daughters for her bereaved husband to care for, and he accepted the charge in memory of the wife who had, in spite of his first experience, crept into his heart. While the Colonel brought up his children in the fear of God, he took care that they should not become bigoted or biassed.

His elder sister, a stern, old fashioned soul, who still bore her maiden name, reluctantly consented to help him with his young charges, a nurse relieving her of all actual duties connected therewith. The nurse grew fond of the children, but the aunt was so strict that the Colonel and she parted. " They will grow up to be a disgrace to you," said Helena, his sister, as she bade the Colonel good-bye. " I think not ; they will resemble their mother ; and if that be so, I shall never have cause to complain." Helen — who was now twenty-three years old, and by two years the elder of the girls — when she had reached womanhood, was of medium height, slight and graceful in appearance, with a rather reflective forehead ; her hair was plainly arranged, while her keen grey eyes and thin and somewhat compressed lips seemed to express that determination of character which her rather squared chin and face conveyed to a critical observer.

Mabel, or Mabs, as she was usually called, was one of those bright, lovable creatures that take strangers by storm. She was light-hearted to an extreme, scarcely ever realising the responsibilities of life, and always ready to laugh trouble away. Her large blue eyes danced with fun and threatened mischief; her face was round rather than oval, with cheeks and lips that were as scarlet berries, bonny — so bonny ; hair that resisted all its mistress's endeavours to keep it under restraint, hung and curled and toyed about her neck and shoulders with the sheen of gold upon it. A week after the Colonel's death several friends and relatives assembled at Ivy Lodge, on the day when the interment had taken place, to hear the will read. Mr. Braithwaite, the solicitor, who had been to school with the deceased, and had kept up a strong friendship ever since, had brought the necessary papers with him, and was earnestly conversing with the vicar of the church which the girls attended.

They were joined by Miss Wilson, the maiden aunt, and her sister, a Mrs. Thorpe, who was well received in fashionable society. " Helen doesn't seem to fret much; she has soon got over the loss of our poor brother and her father," said Miss Wilson, with a sigh. " While poor Mabs is breaking her little heart," added Mrs. Thorpe. " She must be cared for ; she must be roused and her attention drawn from the subject of her grief. It shall be my care." " Mine, sister," interposed Miss Wilson ; " the girl wants the quiet and retirement of a refined home away from the world, and " " She wants the attractions of society : it is pure nonsense for a beautiful girl like Mabs to live with a maiden aunt and do nothing better than keep cats." "You don't understand Helen," Mr. Watts, the vicar, interposed, to draw attention from Mabel and her prospects.

" Dear vicar, do you ? " asked the maiden aunt, with a dash of sarcasm in her tones. Just then Mabel came into the room, with tears in her eyes, and looking as if she had been crying bitterly. " Mabs, my poor child," said Mrs. Thorpe, rising. " Sweety Mabs," said the maiden aunt, swooping down upon her ; " come and let me cheer you, darling." " You mustn't cry, really, Mabs," said Mrs. Thorpe, who got as near to her as the maiden aunt would allow. " Good gracious me, you will ruin your complexion ! " Helen and Mrs. Richards, her dearest friend, then entered the room. The will was simple enough when read. It left Ivy Lodge and a couple of thousand pounds to the two girls, to be equally divided, the house to be their joint residence or sold, as they might mutually determine. " And now, my dear, what about your future ?

" Mrs. Thorpe asked Helen. " For the present we shall both stay here." " Yes, dear, of course, but what do you intend to do ? " " Isn't it a little premature to discuss the question ? " asked Mr. Braithewaite, interposing. " I have written to Mr. Gardiner, to Australia," said Helen ; " as I am engaged to marry him, I think his views should have precedence." It was a quiet speech, but it showed Helen's hand. " You are quite right, Helen, exactly right," said Mrs. Richards, who rose to go. When she had de parted, Mrs. Thorpe took the opportunity to observe — " What a meddlesome woman ! What did she want here ? It is most unseemly for an acquaintance to thrust herself upon us at such an unsuitable time." "Mrs. Richards came at my special request," replied Helen. " She is the best friend I have."

" She is an excellent woman, I don't doubt, but we ought to discuss your future and not " " I would rather you did not. As to our future, I would rather map it out myself." So spoke Helen, with a slight flush of annoyance upon her face. " What do you mean, girl ? " asked Miss Wilson. " What is to become of Mabs ? " asked the other aunt, Mrs. Thorpe. " I shall go with Nell, wherever she goes," replied Mabel. " But, Mabs, dear, I want you to come and live with me as if you were my daughter. I will introduce you to the best of society, and you shall be presented to the Queen," said Mrs. Thorpe appealingly. " Are you going into society, Nell ? " Mabel asked. No ; I have no wish whatever to do so." Then followed an awkward silence, which Mr. Braith waite broke by talking about the weather. B " As our advice is not considered worth having, I for one intend to say no more," remarked Miss Wilson tartly.

" Quite right, my dear sister," said Mrs. Thorpe. " I'm very sorry, my dear aunts. I meant nothing disrespectful to either of you ; but I am at an age to know what is best for myself and Mabs, who will abide by my decision." " That settles it. You are an ungrateful hussy ! " cried Miss AVilson, forgetting everything except that she had been thwarted in her desire to have Mabel to live with her, for which she thought Helen should have been grateful. " Come, sister ; we are not wanted here." Without any further comment, the two rose and left the house as hurriedly as possible. " I don't think I can be of further use at present," the solicitor said, as he gathered up his papers. " If there is anything you wish to consult me about, you will doubtless let me know." Helen, who seemed to think some explanation was due to both Mr. Braithwaite and the vicar, rose to intercept them as they made a movement to depart.

" Stay ; I wish to speak to you — to consult you now. Mabs will leave us a little while." The latter rose and left the room, thinking that her sister had good reason, no doubt, for the request. As soon as the younger sister was gone, Helen asked : " Don't you understand ? Don't you know why Mrs. Thorpe is so eager to get possession of her, and to separate her from me ? " " Surely she is actuated solely by generous and kind motives," said the vicar. " Yes, you probably think so ; but I will tell you why, and then you may judge. Mabs is beautiful; she is admired wherever she goes. Once, at Aunt Thorpe's, Mr. Houghton, a wealthy man well known in society, made advances to her, which Aunt Thorpe strongly supported. Months before my father's death Aunt Thorpe tried to induce him to use his influence in Mr. Houghton's favour.

I was consulted, and I begged my father to do nothing of the kind ; my aunt did not ask me to use my influence, for she knew me better. My wishes have long been paramount, and, at my earnest entreaty, my father returned a distinct negative to what he was asked to do. Whoever Mabs may marry, I fervently hope it will not be Mr. Houghton." " But, my dear girl, Mr. Houghton, to my know ledge, is a gentleman, both by position and wealth," Mr. Braithwaite answered. " I have an objection to his character. A man's position, birth, and even prospects are all little things. What the man himself is, is the crucial question ; and I say, as I have said elsewhere, Mr. Houghton is no fit match for my sister." " Come, be reasonable, or we shall think you are jealous of Mabs," said the vicar good-humouredly.

"I am engaged to be married, so that can hardly be the reason; no, it is something far different. I say what I think, and, as a woman, I claim equal A Bride ' s Experiment 20 rights with you men on this score. Hear me, then. The story is short and to the point. I have a district in the parish which I visit. Among my poor is a child ; his mother was unmarried, and she died of a broken heart. Mr. Houghton, who would honour my sister with his alliance, brought disgrace on mother and child. Shall he marry my sister, my pure sister ? No ; I swear he shall not ! " Helen stood before the two men with her face dyed scarlet at the declaration she had felt forced to make, awaiting their comments. " I'm sorry to hear the story," said Mr. Braithwaite, " but that is not so very uncommon an occurrence. We must forget and forgive, you know.

The young man has, I dare say, deeply regretted his sin ; shall he not have pardon ? " " Do you justify that, that which is the sin of all sins against my sex ? " Helen asked, as she rested her arm on the mantelpiece. " I think the evil that is done should be atoned for. If it cannot be so, then I know not what can be done but to forget it." " And let the man marry some pure girl that he may break another heart ! He had his chance of making the woman full reparation. He refused ; his family would have cut him, so he drove a trustino woman to her death. Out upon such libels of man hood ! If it ever came to my case, and I married a man who had concealed such a sin from me, and I found it out " " You would let your love for the man beat stronger in your heart than your hatred of the deception he had practised upon you," suggested Mr. Braithwaite dryly.

" We shall see — if ever that occur, which, in my case, cannot," said Helen, as she bowed her two con fidants out. " Mabs, Mabs, my darling Mabs ! " cried Helen, as her sister came into the room again, and put her arms about Helen's neck. " You will never part from me ; you will always stay with your Nell ? Say that you will," she cried passionately. " Nell, dear, what is the matter ? I'll never leave you, my dear Nell, so please don't cry," Mabel replied, endeavouring to soothe her sister, although she was crying herself. When Mr. Watts told the aunts that they did not understand their niece Helen, he spoke words that he might have applied even to himself, although he had known the two sisters from their childhood. The same evening on which the will was read, Helen wrote another letter to Harry Gardiner.

Helen's fiance' was the nephew of a man who had acted as guardian to him since he was an orphan. The uncle had lived near Ivy Lodge, and Colonel Wilson, having taken a liking to the bright young fellow, had invited him to the Lodge, so that he became a play mate of the two girls, his friendship with Helen result ing eventually in an engagement. The uncle of Harry Gardiner wished him to adopt a profession, but the lad longed for an active out-of-door life ; he revelled in adventures, and was the best athlete at the college he attended. After much persuasion, the uncle, finding that he could do nothing with his nephew at home, and believing that the young man had really some grit in his character, gave him the thousand pounds which he held in trust for him, and allowed him to take a passage to Australia.

The departure of Gardiner for Australia was a sad one for all concerned. " When I've made my fortune and have a suitable home to offer you, I'll come back and marry you, Nell," he said, his face aglow with the hope of youth ; " and then we'll go back with Mabs and the dear old Colonel to Australia, and they shall pay us a long visit." Helen shyly kissed her lover again and again, while the Colonel and Mabel hovered in the rear, and felt their eyes very watery. " Right you are, my boy," were the Colonel's words, as he nearly wrung the young man's arm off at parting, " and I'll certainly come ; as to Mabs, she will ride every horse you have, bare-backed, and put in the rest of her time hunting kangaroos." Six years passed away. Letters came frequently from Harry, who was now in his twenty-ninth year, to Helen ; sometimes one for the Colonel and Mabs was enclosed.

All this time the young man was making his way steadily and determinedly onward and forward. Then came Helen's letter, telling of the sisters' bereavement ; and, as soon as the mails would permit, Gardiner's answer came. It was a long letter, the letter that a man writes whose heart is in the words he puts to paper. In it Gardiner told every thing of the hardships ofthe life he led— he minimised nothing, he glossed nothing over. He finished by asking her to go out to him. He wanted her love, her society, her assistance, clay by day, in the struggle for life and the struggle against temptation. He invited Mabel to go too, and he waited for Helen to cable the answer. " Do let us go, Nell — it will be such glorious fun," said Mabel, as she listened while Helen read to her a part of the letter.

Helen did not reply. She carried the precious missive to her room and read it over many times. " He is in a part of Australia where he has scarcely a soul to speak to except black people ; he has no one there to love him ; if he is sick no woman's hand is there to smooth his pillow and to bring him back to health. He says the climate is dangerous for our health, and that he thinks no other man would dare to hope that a white woman would spend her life with him in such a forlorn, forsaken spot. Yet he has to bear his lot there, and he loves me and I love him — is that not enough ? Besides, I can be of use to others, even there : I could teach God's Word to the uncivilised Blacks ; above all it will be the means of keeping my sister safe until she can look upon life more seri ously than she does.

I shall be free from the daily snubs and taunts of my relatives. Our father is dead : what claim has England upon us now ? I'll go, and Mabs shall go too. With the help of God all will go well with us, even in that desolate land, for our love will make it an ever blossoming garden." Such thoughts passed through Helen's mind. That night she told her sister of her resolve, and the next day a cablegram was despatched. It was short, but it told a whole world of fortune and happiness to the man who read it under a burning sky. " Coming." That was all the message, but it was sufficient. One word can cheer or break a human heart. Mrs. Thorpe, who had meanwhile been making elaborate plans to induce Mabel to live with her, was furious when she heard the news. The day of departure from England came, and many were the tears that the two sisters shed as they glanced at the disappearing shores of their native land as the vessel steamed onward on its voyage.

The usual amusements which are current on board ship helped them to while away the time of an uneventful sea pas sage. Everything was delightful to Mabel, who had a knack of finding pleasure where her sister failed. Helen, reserved and thoughtful, took but little interest in her surroundings. Adelaide was reached at last, and there, a tall hand some man, sunburnt and bearded, was awaiting their arrival. " I should never have known you, Harry," said Mabel, as the young man, turning from his greeting to Helen, gave the former a bear's hug of a welcome. But Helen knew her lover again, in spite of the change which the six years of parting had brought about ; and when Mabel discreetly left them for a few minutes, he told her how beautiful she was in his eyes, and how she was the same sweet Nell as of old, only that she was dearer, dearer, dearer than ever before.

At the hotel, the hostess took the two girls under her care, and soon the engaged couple were married. A few days of sightseeing elapsed, and then the three bade good-bye to Adelaide and their whiledom friends, and took train to Dingo Creek, which was to be the first stage of their journey.

Chapter III At Dingo Creek

Had Gardiner attended to his sister-in-law, Mabel, and given her the instructions necessary for comfort in a hotel situated in the bush, she might have enjoyed a better night's rest than she did. The room assigned to Mabel was fronted with French windows, leading on to a long balcony, and facing the small railway station. Mabel kept the windows shut in stead of open, consequently the room became close and sultry. Moreover, Gardiner had forgotten to explain to her to enclose the bed with the mosquito nets, and she, being tired out, pushed them aside and was soon asleep. Some few hours later the heat of the room and sundry smartings of her body woke Mabel, who found herself perspiring freely, and very thirsty. Unconscious of the reason of the itching sensation, she began to rub her arms and body, and as she lay awake, became aware of sweet music in her room, which sounded like the strains of a number of small zithers.

This music was interrupted occasionally by a little thud, followed by a smart stinging pain, as one ofthe musicians alighted on her face. Mabel, now thoroughly aroused, got up, and holding a lighted candle before her, surveyed herself in the mirror. She had been badly stung by mosquitoes. " You little brutes ! You horrible beasts ! I'll murder every one of you ! " she cried, as tears shone in her eyes and coursed down her cheeks, which latter were swollen and disfigured by the mosquito stings. " I wish I had never come ! " the girl exclaimed, as she darted about the room dealing indiscriminate death upon her tormentors whenever one settled so that she could see it. She threw open the windows and let in the breeze that was just springing up, and for the rest of the night Mabel sat on the balcony in her dressing gown, keeping up a vigorous attack upon her tormentors, accompanied by sundry uncomplimentary ejaculations.

At length the sun rose behind the railway station like a ball of flame, lighting up the desolate plains, which were bare of vegetation and trees other than salt bush, which latter is the grass of the desert. Hardly had the first rays of light appeared when Mabel became aware that she was not the only occupant of the balcony, for several gentlemen had slept there in preference to their rooms. Hastily Mabel beat a retreat, wondering if they had heard her abusing the mosquitoes. Business began early in the hotel, and footsteps could be heard, so Mabel, eager to have a survey of her surroundings, dressed, and a few minutes later, to the surprise of the early risers, walked out into the thorough fare that formed the chief street in Dingo Creek. Helen, like Mabel, slept only indifferently, while Gardiner, acclimatised to heat, slept peacefully on.

Watching his slumber, Helen thought of the welcome they had received the previous night. It had made a deep impression upon her, and increased her respect and love for him, strong and firm as it had always been. Gardiner had told his wife that every one was very kind and friendly to him, and would be to her, but she had not expected such a cordial reception. Although rough and ready, there was such a genuine ring about the reception that its heartiness and well-meaning could not be mistaken. As she dreamily closed her eyes, Helen saw again the struggling,seething crowd; she recalled vividly the faces of the chief citizens and their wives, clad in light garments — the copper-coloured Afghans with their turbans and Eastern dress, the black and nearly naked aboriginals, the almond-eyed Chinamen in native costume, the hairy and unclean bushmen, the stockmen and the drovers in their varicoloured shirts and breeches and leggings, all presenting a picturesque scene totally unlike anything she had witnessed elsewhere.

Every man seemed to be every one else's equal ; together they laughed, and chatted, and made repartees, paying little respect to persons or even race. All had given her a welcome ; all seemed to have joined in the ringing cheers that appeared still to echo in her ears ; all seemed to have welcomed her and Mabs as if they were two queens visiting their subjects, and not two simple girls from far-away Eng land. Was all this homage paid them because they were strangers ? Ah, no. She knew it could only be for one reason — and that for the sake of her husband. It was done for the sake of the man she had vowed to love, honour, and obey in all things, great and small ; and she clasped her hands upon her snow-white bosom, and prayed that the all-seeing God would help her to keep those promises, keep them in face of whatever trials might arise to test her love for him.

Just then, with a start and a groan, her husband rose from his pillow, glanced round the room eagerly, then catching sight of Helen, fell back again restfully. " What is the matter, HarryT, dear ? " He seemed nonplussed how to answer for a minute, then said — " I had a dream, dear. I dreamed that you and I had quarrelled and parted. You would never part from me, would you, never, under any circumstances?" Helen kissed the lips of the man, and so soothed him, giving no other answer to his question than by saying — " Darling, I am yours as long as life lasts. I only regret that I am not good enough for you." " Don't say that, Nell, don't, I beg you — you could not be better and purer than you are." Having dressed, Gardiner went for Mabel at Helen's request, but brought back word that she was already up and gone out.

He went again in search of her, and a cheery " good morning " awaited him as he passed the servants of the house, as he met the bushmen who had already begun to quench their thirst in the bar, and from the Blacks, who were just as ready and pleased to salute him. Gardiner directed his steps to a vacant piece of land which looked like a circus camp, to judge it from the vehicles and horses about, in the midst of which several tents had been erected, the denizens of which were already at their various occupations. Gardiner was certainly surprised when, from behind one of the vehicles, he saw Dick emerge — and with him Mabel. "Ah, Harry, here you are," said Mabel, running up to him. " What in the world are you doing here at such an hour, Mabs," he asked in surprise, as he looked at Dick, who had become absorbingly busy.

" I came out for a stroll before breakfast, and, seeing Dick here, came to inspect the camp." Gardiner did not exactly know what to make of this sudden acquaintance between the two. He certainly was not pleased, and yet what had he to be angry about ? he thought. "Nell wants you," he said, after a pause; and so, with a nod towards Dick and a smile at the black boy beside her, Mabel went quickly back to the hotel to her sister. " She asked me to show her the horses and the buggies," explained Dick apologetically, "and I couldn't very well refuse, seeing that she had already climbed into the seat of one." " You did quite right, my boy ; let her enjoy herself while she has the chance — she may want all her spirits later on," commented Gardiner, as he began to overhaul the stock forming his caravan.