Mr Ramsay was joined in his pursuit of the blacks by a party of native
police, who are just as ready to take up their countrymen as are the
whites. As the whole party were well mounted, they soon came up with
the runaways. As soon as the blacks saw their pursuers, they set off
again, but were quickly overtaken. Several of them, including two of
their chief men, were made prisoners. One of the police reported that
he had seen a white man galloping away through the woods--that the
stranger was very well mounted, and that he could not overtake him.
This confirmed Mr Ramsay's suspicions that the blacks had been set on
to attack the station by some white man, though as yet he had no idea
who that person could be. The black prisoners were brought before him,
and he examined them by means of the sergeant of the black police. It
was a long business, for it was not always easy to understand the
sergeant himself. However, at length Mr Ramsay came to the conclusion
that the culprit was a stockman or shepherd living in the neighbourhood.
While the prisoners were carried to the station, Mr Ramsay went round
to call at the huts of the stockmen. The first he reached was that of
Peach. Neither he nor his mate were within. A kettle was on the hearth
boiling, and a damper baking below. The provision casks were open, and
pork and meal had evidently been taken from them in a hurry. Their guns
and ammunition had also been carried off. There were other signs that
the occupants of the hut had escaped in a hurry.
"We need not search farther," said Mr Ramsay with a sigh. "I thought
that Peach was an honest man, but things are much against him at
present."
Several of the men now spoke out, and said that they had no doubt that
Peach was a rogue, that they had long thought him one, and that they
were always surprised that the master trusted him.
"It would have been doing me a service if you had spoken before," said
Mr Ramsay; "I might then have prevented Peach from committing an act
for which he will be transported, if he escapes hanging."
It is to be hoped that they saw their error. Servants, by not giving
warning of the misdeeds of others, often injure their employers and
themselves, and do harm rather than good to those they wish to serve.
It was a happy day for Joseph Rudge and his wife when their children
were restored to them as strong and well as ever; and truly grateful
were they to Heaven for the mercy which had been shown them. Rough old
Mat shed tears of joy when he took little Mary in his arms.
"To think that this little tiny creature should have gone on so many
days without eating or drinking, when I have known strong men, who have
lost their way, die in less time," he exclaimed as he kissed her again
and again.
"But God watches over the young and innocent. He watches over us all,
mate, and we old ones should know more of His love and care if we could
but become like the young and pure," remarked Joseph. "We are told that
we must become like little children, that is, in our trust in God's love
and our obedience and faith."
"Ah yes, but that is a hard matter for the old and hardened," sighed
Mat.
"Yes, but it is a blessed thought that God's grace is sufficient for
even such, if they will but seek it," observed Rudge.
Nothing very particular happened at the station for some time. The
children, as may be supposed, did not wander out by themselves any more.
Joseph and the rest of the men, however, had a great deal more to do in
consequence of the flight of Peach and his mate. They also had to help
in getting back the cattle he had carried off. Mr Ramsay was very much
pleased with the way Joseph had acted, and increased his wages by ten
pounds a year, while to Sam and Bob he gave five pounds more each.
After this there was a marked change in Mr Ramsay. He was always
looked on as a worthy, upright man, but he had been inclined to stand
somewhat aloof from his neighbours, Mr Harlow and his sisters, because
they were known to be religious. Not a week passed, however, that he
did not pay a visit to Upland, Mr Harlow's station, and sometimes he
went twice a week, and was often seen riding out with the Misses Harlow.
It then became known that he had united with Mr Harlow to send for a
missionary minister, who would go about among the out-stations and
preach and hold school as best he could. Mr Bolton was his name. He
lost no time in coming. His plan was to preach, and then to set lessons
to all the learners, many of them grown-up people, and to help those who
required it, and then to hear them when next he came that way. When Mr
Bolton came to the head station, Mr Ramsay always attended, and after a
time formed a class, and taught himself. It was said that he was going
to marry one of the Miss Harlows. A word spoken in season may do good;
and there can be little doubt that the good example set by Joseph Rudge
had a great effect in bringing about an important change in the
character of his master.
While many of those who went to the gold diggings came back as poor as
they started, and with loss of health, Joseph and his family, by
remaining at their posts and doing their duty to their employer,
prospered, and were well and happy.
One afternoon Sarah and Sally and Nancy were at work in the hut. Nancy
was able now to do almost as much as Sally. Joseph and his boys were
out with the cattle or sheep. Bill was also able to go shepherding.
Little Mary was playing in front of the door; she had not learned to do
much yet. Her sisters heard her cry, "Man coming, man coming!" They
looked out. A man on horseback, with tattered clothes, patched with
skins, rode up. His eyes were sunken, his cheeks thin.
"I want food. Here, girls, bring me some damper, and tea, and mutton,
if you have it, a glass of milk and rum. Quick! I am starving," he
said in a hollow voice.
His looks showed that he spoke the truth.
"Won't you come in and rest?"
"No, no; I'm not to be caught so," answered the man, looking about
suspiciously. "But quick, girl, with the food."
Sally went in and took him out some damper and a slice of mutton, while
Nancy was getting some tea. He ate the food like a starving man and
then tossed off a large basin of tea. When Sarah saw him first from the
window she thought she knew him. His way of speaking made her sure.
"Now girls, just bring me out your father's powder-flask and shot belt,
and any canister of powder there is in the hut. My flask is empty, and
I must have it filled."
On hearing these words, Sarah emptied the flask into a jar, which she
hid away, and with it the canister of powder, and then sent out Nancy
with the empty flask. The man swore fiercely when he found that there
was no powder in the flask.
"At all events, get me some more food. I don't know when I may be able
to find another meal, and if there had been time you should have given
me a hot one."
"That is Tony Peach," said Sarah, as her daughter came in to get more
food. "He has taken to the bush, and that is what his life has brought
him to."
The girls took out as much food as Peach could eat, but he wanted more,
and told them that he must have enough to fill both his saddle-bags.
They brought him out all the food they had cooked in the hut. As he was
stowing away the food in his bags, he happened to look up, and saw two
or three horsemen coming towards the hut. Letting the remainder of the
damper and cheese and meat drop, he gathered up his reins and galloped
off as hard as he could go. The horsemen were Joseph and Tom and Sam.
They rode direct to the hut. When they heard who the stranger was, Tom
and Sam were for giving chase.
"No," said Joseph, "we have no authority to take him up. Leave him in
God's hands. He is welcome to the food the girls gave him."
It might have been better if Peach had been seized at that time, for,
soon after this, several robberies were committed in different parts of
the colony, and always by two men supposed to be Peach and his mate.
Travellers from the gold diggings were attacked; huts were entered, and
even farm-houses, and arms and ammunition and food and any valuables the
thieves could lay hands on were carried off.
Another trying time for sheep and cattle owners as well as farmers, now
arrived. There had been less rain than usual, and as the summer
advanced the heat increased, and the creeks and water-holes dried up.
In many spots where there had been for years a pool of pure water, there
was nothing now but a bed of hard, cracked mud. Some stations were
altogether deserted, and shepherds had often to drive their flocks long
distances to water. Joseph Rudge had lately been made overseer, and it
was his duty to ride round the country in all directions to search for
water-holes. It was sad to watch the water get less and less in a hole,
and to know that in a few days it would dry up and that another must be
found or that the sheep or cattle would die. Before that time Joseph
generally managed by an active search, to secure a fresh water-hole.
While other owners were losing their sheep and cattle by thousands, Mr
Ramsay found that only a few hundreds of his had died owing to being
driven of necessity very fast to fresh water-holes.
One day as Joseph was on his way from a distant station, he saw smoke
rising out of a wood.
While he was looking towards the spot, the smoke grew thicker and
thicker, and presently flames burst out. Now they ran up the trees, now
along the tall lank grass dried by the heat. They darted from tree to
tree--the bush (as the forest is called) was on fire. The flames spread
with fearful quickness.
He galloped on into the open country where there was thinner grass. The
bush reached all the way to his house. As he watched the rapid manner
in which the fire extended, he saw that no time was to be lost. Fast as
his horse galloped, the flames went faster, leaping as it were from tree
to tree with a loud roar and crackle, the thick smoke forming a black
cloud overhead, while kangaroos and other animals rushed out of the bush
to find safety in the open country. Had Joseph been able to venture
through the forest he would soon have reached his hut, but he had to
make a long round to avoid it.
He galloped on still hoping to get there before the flames reached it.
Their property would certainly be destroyed, but he prayed that his
family might make their escape to a place of safety. He seemed to be
getting ahead of the fire, but as he looked every now and then over his
shoulder, he saw it extending as far as the eye could reach, a wall of
leaping flames with a roof of dark smoke. In some places it ran along
the ground out from the forest where the grass was long enough to feed
it, while in others it soon went out for want of fuel. Numbers of the
animals and birds must have perished, and many animals rushed past with
their hair singed, and several birds fell down dead before him. The
ground was uneven and stony, but nothing stopped him, and at last his
hut came in sight. The fire was still nearly a mile from it, but it was
coming on quickly. He found Sarah and the children standing at the
door, much frightened, with the few things of value they had in their
hands.
"Why, Sarah, I should have thought you knew that flour and pork would be
more use to us than those things," he exclaimed with a laugh, which
somewhat took away her fear, "but we may save the hut yet. Bring out
those three reaping-hooks, and all the axes and knives, and all hands
must cut away the grass round the hut. Here come Tom Wells and Sam and
Ben and Bill." A large circle was cut, and the grass was cleared round
all the palings. It was then set on fire, and the flames went hissing
along the ground towards the already burning forest. In this way a
large space was cleared, and Joseph and his sons were able to keep watch
on his own and Mat's hut, and the out-buildings, and to knock out any
sparks as soon as they appeared. In this way, all the pens and other
property on the station was preserved.
This done, they again mounted their horses and galloped off to look
after the cattle which they had reason to fear might have been
frightened by the fire. Their search was long, but they found the whole
herd collected in a stony valley, where there was little grass, and
where the fire had not touched them.
Soon after this, Mr Ramsay arrived, fully expecting to hear of the loss
of sheep and cattle, if not of the huts and pens.
"A diligent servant takes heed of his master's property, and deserves to
be rewarded," he observed.
"I looked after my wife and children first, sir, though," said Joseph.
"I should not have praised you if you had not, and it is time that you
should have some cattle of your own, and sheep too, and in a few days I
will tell you what proportion of the increase of my flocks and herds I
can allow you."
Troloo was now more than ever at the station. He came in, while Mr
Ramsay was there, with the news that a large number of kangaroos were
assembled not far off, driven by the fire from their usual feeding
grounds. Hearing this, Mr Ramsay sent over to Mr Harlow, and a party
was made up to hunt them. It was well worth doing so, for though their
flesh is not as good as mutton, for each kangaroo killed, two sheep
would be saved. Both gentlemen had large dogs trained to hunt them. A
kangaroo is a curious animal, with short forelegs, and very long hind
ones, which it doubles up under itself. With these, and the help of a
long, heavy tail, it leaps over the ground almost as fast as a horse can
gallop. A female kangaroo has a sort of pouch in front, in which she
carries her young. On the approach of danger the young one jumps into
it, and off she goes. When very hard pressed, however, to save her own
life, she will take it out and drop it, and thus go faster over the
ground. Two or three other gentlemen and several stockmen from the
neighbouring stations joined the party. After they had ridden several
miles, Troloo gave notice that they were near the spot. The rifles were
got ready, and the party spread out so as to stop the mob from breaking
through. The feeding ground was in a large, open space, on the borders
of a part of the bush which had escaped the fire. As the horsemen drew
near, the creatures looked up, and seeing their enemies, started off.
The dogs were set on and the horsemen followed, firing as they had a
chance. Several of the animals were shot, and Sam and Bob boasted that
each of them had killed one. They also came upon two emus, to which
they gave chase. These are birds with long, thick legs and short wings,
which help them along when running before the wind. Their bodies are
about half the size of a small Australian sheep. They run at a great
rate, so that a horse has hard work to come up with them. Sam's horse
was already tired, and they were obliged to give up the chase. As they
rode back to join the rest of the party, they saw under the trees what
looked like a native hut. On getting nearer they found that a man was
inside leaning against the trunk of a tree. They called out, thinking
that he was asleep, but he did not answer.
Another look showed them that he was dead. The beard and hair were
long, and the face like that of a mummy. They turned away from the
horrid sight.
"Bob, do you know, I believe that the dead man is no other than Tony
Peach," said Sam. "We must tell Mr Ramsay, and he'll come and see.
The poor wretch has escaped being hung, which they say he would have
been if he had been caught."
They soon reached their friends, and Mr Ramsay and others came to look
at the dead man. They had no doubt who he was. A shallow grave was dug
by some of the party, while two others cut out a slab of wood, on which
they cut, with their knives, "Here lies Tony Peach, the bushranger."
What became of his misguided mate no one knew. Tony Peach had started
in life with far more advantages than Joseph Rudge, yet how different
was the fate of the two men. Joseph and all his family prospered, and
he is now, though connected with Mr Ramsay, the owner of a large flock
of sheep and a fine herd of cattle. Tom Wells, who married Sally, has a
farm of his own near him. He has bought land for Sam and Bob, on which
they both hope to settle before long; and they are looking out for the
arrival of a family of old friends from England, with several daughters,
from among whom they hope to find good wives for themselves. No more
need be said than this--that the honest, hard-working man who goes to
Australia with a family, though he may meet with many ups and downs, may
be pretty sure of doing well himself, and of settling his children
comfortably around him.