“I, the sport of Fortune.”—_Duke Charles of Orleans._
Jack, “ragged and tanned,” half-starved, and a “footman” (as a person
not in possession of a horse is termed in Australian provincial
circles), was not for the moment regarded with special favour by the
landlord of the Royal Pioneer.
However, the first few words led to immediate “class legislation.” The
landlords of Australian inns, I may observe, are tolerably good judges
of “who’s who,” and, to their honour, are more regardful of
gentlemanlike bearing than of money and good clothes.
So Jack was inducted into the front parlour, and invited to repair the
inroads upon his outward man in a bedroom of comparative grandeur. He
first of all arranged for the purchase of an entirely new rig-out from
the affiliated store, also in possession of the landlord, and a bath.
After indulgence in the latter luxury, he made up the whole of his
former wearing apparel in a package, and desired that they might be
given to the poor, or otherwise disposed of. He then decided that he
would transact the imposing ceremony of dinner, and afterwards draw up
his tenders for twenty five-mile blocks on the River Marion, and be
ready for a start to the metropolis next morning.
Entering the parlour in a suit of rough tweed, he felt much more like a
shepherd king of the future than the death-doomed pioneer—half hunter,
half savage—of the preceding few days. As he came in, a well-dressed,
strongly-jewelled personage arose from the sofa on which he had been
sitting, and greeted Jack with much cordiality.
“Mr. Redgrave, I believe, I have the honour of addressing. I’ve heard of
your heroic feats, sir. I hope you will give me the pleasure of your
company at dinner. Took the liberty of ordering it the moment I heard of
your arrival. No denial, sir, if _you_ please. You are Frank Forestall’s
guest to-night, whatever happens.”
There was no resisting the dash and pertinacity of his entertainer, so
Jack quietly subsided into the position, and permitted the strange
gentleman to make himself happy in his own way. The dinner, after a
rather unreasonable delay, arrived, by no means so indifferent as to
cuisine as might have been imagined. Mr. Forestall insisted on “Piper,
No. 2,” and pressed Jack to do him justice in huge glasses, which he
seemed to have magical powers of emptying.
It must be remembered that Jack had been many months without the taste
of spirits, much less of decent wine. His recent experiences, the total
change of scene, the hope of a happy sequel, now near and tangible, to
the volume of his life, all these things tended to produce a general
feeling of exhilaration, tending, as the evening wore on, to entire loss
of caution and self-control. Mr. Forestall described himself as an
extensive mail-contractor, who visited the far interior from time to
time with a view to comprehensive contracts, in which he intended, at no
distant period, to rival, if not to overshadow, the foreign element, as
represented by the potentate Cobb. He artfully led the conversation to
explorations, privations, and the adventures of Jack and his hapless
comrade, mingling sympathetic flattery with acute inquiries, until,
after successive beakers of “hot stopping” and pipes of negrohead, Jack
was in no humour to conceal any portion of his intentions and
discoveries. How and when he had retired for the night John Redgrave
was, next morning, unable to remember; but awaking, long after sunrise,
with a splitting headache and a disordered system, he had a confused
recollection of having imparted much information which he had never
intended to reveal except in the sealed tenders of Redgrave and Waldron,
passing in due course through the Department of Lands.
Dressing and shaking himself together with no inconsiderable effort, he
found by inquiring of the landlord that the mail had come and gone, and
that his genial host of the preceding evening had departed with it.
Wroth with himself for the loss of even one day, he adhered sternly to
the drawing out of the tenders in proper form.
After a subdued and decorous meal, he retired early, and at the
appointed hour deposited himself, Doorival, and Help in the unpretending
conveyance which bore the toilers of the midmost plateaux to the
breeze-swept cities of the “kingdom by the sea.”
Here, in due time, he was deposited as one who re-enters Paradise, after
rejoicing in the as yet unforgiven outer world, amid the rayless toil of
ungrateful labour, amid the briars and thorns of Earth—accursed and
unreclaimed.
He lost not an hour after his arrival in despatching the inestimable
“Tenders for (20) twenty five-mile blocks, situated on the River Marion,
west of Daar Creek, and bearing south-west from the Camp No. XL. of Mr.
Surveyor Kennedy.”
Having done this, Jack awaited impatiently the time when a reply might
reasonably be expected to arrive. He sought the agents of Guy Waldron,
and deposited with them the relics and the few lines in which the dying
man had traced the record of his last wishes. He found these gentlemen
kindly disposed, and grateful to him for the manifest sympathy which he
exhibited.
“How the old squire will bear it I can’t think,” said the senior
partner. “I am the son of a tenant on his estate, and I can remember him
since I was that big. He was a terrible man when he was crossed, and Mr.
Guy was always a wild youngster, but he was prouder of him, I used to
think, than of all the rest put together. It will be a comfort to them
all to see this lad here. I dare say he wrote about him; and as he saw
him at the very last, it may please them to hear of his last moments.”
So the heroic Doorival was despatched, accompanied by poor Guy’s big
outfit in a chest full of all his unused property, books, papers, &c.,
and arriving safely in Oxfordshire was installed as prime favourite, and
second in command to the butler. Let us hope that he behaved better than
one anglicised aboriginal, who was for some slight offence chastised by
the butler. That official was solemn and awe-inspiring of aspect. But
the wolf-cub had grown and strengthened; he turned fiercely to bay, and
smote suddenly and so shrewdly his superior officer that a coroner’s
inquest appeared imminent. Sentence of deportation went forth against
him, afterwards commuted. But the son of the waste was respected after
this outbreak, and in the servants’ hall was permitted to possess his
soul in peace.
There was a balance of something over £300 remaining in the hands of Guy
Waldron’s agents, and this sum, in the terms of his note, they paid over
to Jack, as representative of the firm of Redgrave and Waldron. He had
nothing now to look forward to but the acceptance of his tenders. He
found that with the weighty and responsible task before him he was
unable to interest himself in the ordinary frivolities of town life. He
was deeply anxious to get his first lot of store cattle on the way; and
to this end these tenders must be accepted and returned to him with but
little delay.
Day after day he haunted the Lands Office, and by dint of pertinacity
and daily application he managed to get his papers “put through” that
excellent and long-suffering department. It is hinted that from press of
work or other causes delay has become chronic in that much-maligned,
calm-judging branch of the public service. Whether they pitied his
manifest impatience, or whether the lives of certain officials were made
a burden to them during the passage of the papers, certain it is that
some weeks before the ordinary routine Jack had reason to believe that
an acknowledgment of his communication would reach him in advance of the
ordinary official period. Before the impatiently expected official
communication arrived, Jack had made several important arrangements
depending upon this contingency, so that no more time than was
absolutely necessary might be lost. He was feverishly anxious to be
again on the war-path.
He thought of joyous Guy Waldron lying beneath the solitary pine-tree,
on the far sand-hill, swept now in the advanced season by the burning
desert blast; and he pined for the moment when he could recommence his
labour, and make some progress in fulfilment of his pledge to his dead
comrade.
He thought of fair Maud Stangrove, lonely, weary with vigil and orison,
enduring her prosaic, unrelieved life at Juandah; and his heart stirred
with an unaccustomed throb as he pictured her wild joy upon receiving
his letter, telling of the acceptance of the tenders, and his departure
to stock the Wonder-land so dearly-bought, so hardly wrested from Nature
and from man. He had arranged with certain stock and station agents for
the placing of a certain number of the blocks in their hands for sale,
upon the receipt of which security they were willing to advance the cash
necessary for the purchase of a couple of thousand head of cattle.
In pursuance of these plans he had determined, after extracting a solemn
pledge from one of the higher officials that within a very short space
of time he should receive the necessary reply to his proposals, to
proceed at once to the station where the cattle were on approval. He
authorized the momentous despatch to be delivered to his agents, to be
by them forwarded to him at the cattle-station.
The cattle were mustered, counted, and approved of. The price was very
low, the quality reasonable—it was not necessary to be too fastidious
under the circumstances. The time Jack had calculated upon expending had
just expired, when lo! the expected despatch, “On Her Majesty’s
Service,” with her Majesty’s envelope and her Majesty’s
Lion-and-Unicorned seal, arrived.
“Just as I calculated, to a day,” quoth Jack. “This reminds one of old
times, when I used to be rather proud of ‘fitting my connections’ in
business matters, as Americans phrase it. Now for the first Act of
Victory in Westminster Abbey!” He opened the missive hastily. How neat
and decided were the characters of this long-looked-for epistle! Jack
read it twice over, as his vision after one glance was temporarily
obscured.
This was the wording of the important document:—
“DEPARTMENT OF LANDS,
”_October 15, 186—_.
“SIR—I have the honour to acknowledge the receipt of tenders for
unoccupied Crown lands, as noted in the margin, bearing date September
10th _ultimo_, and to inform you that tenders on the part of F.
Forestall and Co. and others, which would appear to be for the same
blocks, were received at this office upon the 9th September _ultimo_.
“I have the honour to be, sir,
“Your obedient servant,
“J.M. INGRAM,
“Under Secretary.
“John Redgrave, Esq.,
“Care of Messrs. Thornbrook and Bayle,
“Stock and Station Agents.”
Jack read more than once the fatally clear and concise announcement,
with the blank, expressionless countenance of a man perusing his
death-warrant, unexpectedly received. Was it credible, possible, that an
overruling Providence could permit such hellish treachery? Now he
understood all the artful inquiries, the feigned _bonhomie_ and
hospitality, the sudden departure of the double-dyed traitor Forestall.
Was this to be the recompense for the deadly perils, the hunger, the
thirst, the blood of Guy Waldron, his own passage through the Valley of
the Shadow? It could not be! Again and again he showered wild curses
upon his own weakness, on the heartless villain who had taken advantage
of him, the feeble survivor of the desperate conflict waged with the
malign powers of the desert.
Again he assured himself that such monstrous injustice before high
Heaven could not be carried out. He would return at once to the
metropolis, and if such base theft, worse a thousand times than the
comparatively straight-forward and manly robbery under arms by the
wandering outlaw, who risked his life upon the hazard, were confirmed,
he would shoot Forestall in midday, in the public streets, before he
would submit to be mocked and plundered of the prize for which he and
his dead comrade had shed their blood. He felt compelled, to his deep
mortification, to explain to the owner of the partly-purchased herd that
unforeseen circumstances prevented his completing his bargain, and
necessitated his instant presence at head-quarters. Deeply disappointed,
and with a host of doubts bordering upon despair preying upon his very
vitals, he abjured rest and sleep, almost food, until he once more found
himself in the streets of——.
Without an instant’s delay he presented himself at the office of Messrs.
Thornbrook and Bayle, to whom, haggard and fierce of mien, he at once
presented the official letter.
“I see the whole thing,” said the senior partner, “and I feel as
indignant as yourself at the vile deception which has been practised
upon you. I know the scoundrel well, and it is far from his first crime
in the same direction. I will go with you to the Minister for Lands, and
we will see what we can do. But first have some breakfast, and calm down
your excitement a little. We may manage to arrange matters, surely.”
Jack took the well-meant advice, and before long they were in the
ante-chamber of the Minister for Lands, the arbiter of fate, he who
gives or withholds fortune, decreeing affluence or ruin, “according to
the Regulations under the Land Act.”
After waiting about an hour for the return of a glib gentleman who went
in just before them, with the assurance that his business could be
settled in ten minutes, they passed into the presence of the great man.
They found a quiet-looking personage seated before a very comfortable
writing-table, on which lay piles of official-looking papers in
envelopes of every gradation of size, some of them apparently
constructed to receive a quire or two of foolscap without inconvenience.
They were received with politeness, and Mr. Thornbrook introduced Jack,
who at once stated his grievance.
“Your tenders were sent to this department on or about the——?”
“The tenth of September,” said Jack. “I came down at once, after
returning from the new country applied for.”
The minister rang a bell, and a clerk appeared.
“Send up the tenders, signed John Redgrave for Redgrave and Waldron, for
unoccupied Crown lands, and any others for the same blocks.”
In a few minutes several large envelopes were laid upon the table, upon
one of which was marked “Redgrave and Waldron.—Tenders for Raak new
country.”
“I understand you to complain,” said the minister, blandly, but not
without a tone of sympathy, “that, whereas you and your partner—since
dead, I regret to hear—were the actual discoverers and explorers of this
Raak country, other persons have put in tenders for apparently the same
blocks.”
“That is my complaint,” said Jack; “and not an unreasonable one either I
should fancy. My partner and I, at the risk of our lives, he, poor
fellow, did lose his, found and traversed this country, never seen or
heard of by white men, with the sole exception of the stockman who told
us. I came to town with hardly a day’s loss of time, put in formal
tenders, and now, to my utter astonishment, I find that tenders for the
same country are in before mine. I certainly did speak unguardedly about
the affair to a fellow named Forestall, and he, it appears, has planned
to rob me of my very hardly-earned right to the run.”
“It appears to be a very bad case,” answered the minister; “but you
will, I am sure, concede that the department can only deal with tenders
or applications for pastoral leases of unoccupied Crown lands as brought
before it, without reference to the characters or motives of applicants.
I may point out to you that these tenders (here he gathered up a sheaf
of the octavo envelopes) appear to have been put in on the ninth of
September, one day before yours. You and your friend can examine them.”
Jack and Mr. Thornbrook did look over them. There were a large number.
They were prepared evidently by skilled and experienced hands. Some were
in the name of Francis Forestall and Co., many in other names, of which
Jack had no knowledge. They offered a shade above the yearly rental and
premium which Jack had put down, never dreaming of a competitor. Then,
again, they were geographically most accurate. Close calculations
evidently had been made, charts studied, and the nearest possible
approximation as to latitude and longitude around it. Nor was this the
worst. Every square mile of the Raak country was of course included. But
the tenders in the strange names took in the whole available country
above, below, around that desirable oasis, so that there it was
hopeless, if the hostile tenders were accepted, to find even a
decent-sized run anywhere within a week’s ride of Mount Stangrove and
Lake Maud.
Jack turned from the accursed papers to the minister and demanded
whether the mere accident of priority was to override his unquestionable
claims as discoverer.
“Did the matter rest wholly with me,” he replied calmly—for hundreds of
difficult cases, passionate appeals, and wild entreaties had educated
his mind, during his term of office, to a judicial lucidity and
decision—“I have no hesitation in saying that I should at once direct
that your tenders be accepted; but I am compelled to decide all cases of
this nature entirely by certain regulations made under the Crown Lands
Occupation Act. One of these specifically states that the order of
priority, other things being equal, must rule the acceptance of tenders;
with no other fact or consideration can I deal. The tenders of
Forestall, Robinson, Andrews, Johnson, and Wade are apparently for the
identical and adjacent blocks. They were received in this department
twenty-four hours before yours.”
“Of course, of course, we allow that,” said Mr. Thornbrook. “But can
nothing be done for my friend here? It is the hardest of all hard cases.
It will ruin him. I speak advisedly: he has already entered into
engagements that I fear, if this matter goes adversely, he cannot meet.
My dear sir,” said Mr. Thornbrook, warming with his client’s wrongs,
“pray consider the matter; you must see the equity of the case is with
us; try and prevent such a palpable wrong-doing and perversion of
justice.”
“My dear sir,” said the minister, rising, “the matter shall have the
most serious and minute consideration of myself and my colleagues. There
will be a cabinet meeting on Thursday, at which the affair can be
appropriately brought up. I will order a letter, containing the final
decision of the Government, to be sent to Mr. Redgrave, whom I now beg
to assure of my deep sympathy. Good morning, gentlemen.”
In the course of ten days Jack received another official letter, in the
handwriting which he had come to know, and also to dread. He had passed
a wretched, anxious time, and now he was to know whether he was to be
lifted up afresh to the pinnacle of hope, or to be hurled down into an
_inferno_ of despair, lower than he had ever yet, dark as had been his
experiences, unmerciful his disasters, been doomed to endure. He read as
follows:—
“DEPARTMENT OF LANDS,
”_October_ 30, 186—.
“SIR—I have the honour to inform you, by direction of the Minister for
Lands, that, after the fullest consideration of your case, it has been
finally decided to accept the tenders of Messrs. Forestall and others
for the blocks noted in margin, as having been received prior to those
of Messrs. Redgrave and Waldron.
“I have the honour to be, sir,
“Your obedient servant,
“J.M. INGRAM,
“Under Secretary.
“John Redgrave, Esq.”