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MISSING FRIENDS
[Illustration: A SWAGSMAN.]
_"Adventures are to the adventurous."_
BEACONSFIELD.
[Illustration: THE ADVENTURE SERIES.]
[Illustration]
* * * * *
THE ADVENTURE SERIES.
Illustrated. Crown 8vo, 5s.
=1.=
Adventures of a Younger Son. By E. J. TRELAWNY. _With an
Introduction by Edward Garnett_. Second Edition.
=2.=
Robert Drury's Journal in Madagascar. _Edited by Captain S. P.
Oliver._
=3.=
Memoirs of the Extraordinary Military Career of John Shipp. _With
an Introduction by H. Manners Chichester._
=4.=
The Adventures of Thomas Pellow, of Penryn, Mariner. _Edited by
Dr. Robert Brown._
=5.=
The Buccaneers and Marooners of America. Being an Account of the
Notorious Freebooters of the Spanish Main. _Edited by Howard
Pyle._
=6.=
The Log of a Jack Tar; or, The Life of James Choyce. With
O'Brien's Captivity in France. _Edited by V. Lovett Cameron, R.N._
=7.=
The Voyages and Adventures of Ferdinand Mendez Pinto. _With an
Introduction by Arminius Vambery._
=8.=
The Story of the Filibusters. By JAMES JEFFREY ROCHE. To which is
added the Life of Colonel David Crockett.
=9.=
A Master Mariner. Being the Life and Adventures of Captain Robert
William Eastwick. _Edited by Herbert Compton._
=10.=
Kolokotrones, Klepht and Warrior. _Edited by Mrs. Edmonds.
Introduction by M. Gennadius._
=11.=
Hard Life in the Colonies. _Compiled from Private Letters by C.
Carlyon Fenkins._
=(_OTHERS IN THE PRESS_.)=
* * * * *
MISSING FRIENDS
Being the Adventures of a Danish Emigrant in Queensland (1871-1880)
Illustrated
London: T. Fisher Unwin,
Paternoster Square. Mdcccxcii
INTRODUCTORY.
I was born in Copenhagen in the year 1850. My father was a builder there
in moderately good circumstances. I was the second son of a large
family, and it was my parents' great ambition that we all should receive
a good education. My eldest brother was intended for a profession, and I
was to be, like my father, a builder, and to take up his business when
old enough to do so.
My father ruled us with an iron hand. I am sure he had as much love for
us all as most fathers have for their children, but it was considered
necessary when I was twenty years old to treat me as boys of ten are
ordinarily treated. During the time I learned my trade in my father's
shop I never knew the pleasure of owning a sixpence. After I had learned
my trade, it was just the same. I worked for my father and received my
food, clothes, and lodging as before, but I never dared to absent myself
for a quarter of an hour even without asking permission, and that
permission was as often refused as granted. A rebellious feeling kept
growing up in me; but I dared not ask my father to relax a little and
give me more liberty. To assert my independence before him seemed just
as impossible, and yet my position had become to me unbearable. There
was but one thing to do, viz., to run away, and I had scarcely conceived
this idea before I carried it into execution.
I was now twenty-one years old. One evening, after saying good-night to
my parents in the usual orthodox fashion, I went to my room, and when
all was still, crept downstairs again and left the house. I had a bundle
of clothes with me and a watch, which I pawned next morning. I forget
the exact amount I received for it, but to the best of my recollection
it was the first money I ever possessed, and it seemed to me a vast sum
to do with just as I liked. I dared not to stay in Copenhagen for fear
of meeting my father, or somebody who knew me, so I bought a through
ticket for Hamburg the same day, and although the purchase of this
ticket nearly exhausted my funds, it was with a feeling of glorious
freedom that I left Copenhagen. On arriving in Hamburg I obtained work
at my trade without difficulty, and soon saved a little money, so that a
few months after I found myself on board an emigrant ship bound for
Queensland, where I have been ever since; but for fourteen years I never
wrote home. After that interval I sent a short letter to my eldest
brother, telling him that I was in Queensland, married, in good health,
my own master, but that I had not made my fortune; however I owed
nobody anything, and was satisfied, &c., and asked only for news.
By return of mail came two letters, one from my father and the other
from my brother. My brother wrote that our father was now getting to be
an old man, and that his one sorrow these many years had been what had
become of me, coupled with the fear that I did not remember him as a
loving father; that he had always acted as he thought best for us, and
that the greatest joy the earth could offer him would be if he might see
me again. My father wrote in the same strain, adding that if I could not
come home I must write, and that nothing I had done would seem trivial
or uninteresting for him to read about.
When I had read these letters my conscience smote me. Not that I had
ever felt indifferent to my parents. I had thought of them often. I do
not think ever a day went over my head during those fourteen years in
which I did not remember them. Yet I had never written. But I was now a
married man, had children of my own, and I could fully realize how it is
that the parents' love for their children is so inconceivably greater
than children's love for their parents. Would it not be a hard day for
me if ever I should have to bid good-bye to any of my sons, even if they
went out of the front door, so to speak, with my blessing? Would the
least they could do be to write to me circumstantially and often what
they thought, what they did, how they fared? And here was I who never
to that moment had been conscious of having done my parents any wrong!
Yes; I would write. I began the same evening, and kept writing on about
all my wanderings from the day I had left home up to the time of
writing, and as I wrote, many things which I thought I had forgotten
came clearly to my mind; and so I grew interested in it myself. I had my
writing copied. All this took time; but at last the manuscript was
posted to my father with a large photograph of myself enclosed. It
arrived the day after his death, but before the funeral. They buried the
manuscript and photograph with him.
These are matters far too sacred to write much about, even anonymously.
I only touch upon them to show the origin of the following narrative.
The copy I had taken has been lying in my desk now for some years, and
when I took it out the other day it occurred to me that as it gives a
faithful picture of life that thousands of people lead here in
Queensland, it might be of general interest. I doubt if ever a book was
written with more regard to truth. I have added nothing to the original
manuscript, but I have erased such private matters as, of course, would
be out of place in a publication, and I have also considerably shortened
the description of the voyage out, as a voyage across the sea is a more
than twice-told tale to most Australian people. I have also altered the
names of persons and places mentioned wherever I have thought it
necessary. It is now several years since the events recorded happened.
The incidents themselves are sometimes trifling and always harmless.
Should any one who may read this book think they recognize themselves in
any part of my descriptions, I must beg them to accept my apology. They
will most likely then also recognize the substantial truth of my
description and my endeavour not to be too personal.
Although it will be seen by the reader that I have often acted foolishly
and seldom excelled in wisdom, yet I do not wish it to be understood
that I consider my life altogether misspent. As I look back, I think of
myself as being always cheerful. It is the privilege of youth to be
happy under almost any circumstances, and I was young when these things
I here set down happened. If the tale has a moral, I think it will be
found sufficiently obvious. Queensland is full of missing friends. Some
come to the colony in the hope of making a speedy fortune, that they may
go home again and bless the old folks with their good fortune. Others
come out with the hope of making a good home, and to bring the old
people thither. The successful man is generally a dutiful son too,
insomuch, at least, that he lets everybody know of his success; but the
man who fails, either from lack of perseverance or from untoward
circumstances, too often becomes a "missing friend." It is generally
true that a man is valued according to the cut of his coat, but it is
not true between parent and son. So! write home, you lonely swagsman on
the dusty track of the far interior. Do not think yourself forgotten. If
you have parents alive you have friends too, who think of you night and
day. If you will only let them know that you yet have a thought left for
them, they will bless you.
I have nothing else to add to this introduction, except that possibly
the book might have been more interesting if it contained more thrilling
adventures, but in my opinion the only merit which it may possess lies
in the strict regard paid to truth and the avoidance of all exaggeration
from beginning to end.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
INTRODUCTORY v
CHAP.
I. MY FIRST EXPERIENCES ON LEAVING HOME 3
II. ON THE EMIGRANT SHIP--THE JOURNEY TO QUEENSLAND 19
III. MY ARRIVAL IN QUEENSLAND 43
IV. GAINING COLONIAL EXPERIENCE 73
V. TOWNSVILLE: MORE COLONIAL EXPERIENCES 101
VI. ON THE HERBERT RIVER 131
VII. LEAVING THE HERBERT--RAVENSWOOD 161
VIII. SHANTY-KEEPING, PROSPECTING, THORKILL'S DEATH 185
IX. GOING TO THE PALMER 211
X. RETURNING FROM THE PALMER 231
XI. A LOVE STORY 259
XII. BRISBANE--TRAVELS IN THE "NEVER NEVER" LAND 271
XIII. THE END 315
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
(1) A SWAGSMAN _Frontispiece_
(2) LANDING OF EMIGRANTS _To face page_ 55
(3) AN ALLIGATOR POOL " " 145
(4) THE BAKER'S CART " " 190
(5) BREAKFAST IN THE GOLD FIELDS " " 198
(6) ROCKHAMPTON " " 232
CHAPTER I.
MY FIRST EXPERIENCES ON LEAVING HOME.
Having left Copenhagen in the way just described and arrived in
Hamburg, my first care was to get work, which I fortunately obtained
the next day. The place I worked in was a large building or series of
buildings, four or five stories high, with cabinet-makers' shops from
the cellars to the loft. We had to be at work at six o'clock in the
morning, and to keep on till eight o'clock at night. Even on Sundays we
worked from six o'clock to dinner-time. Some would keep on till it was
dark on Sunday evening, and content themselves with knocking off early,
as they called it. And such work! Everybody would work as if the house
were on fire. It was all piecework. The man who stood next myself had
made veneered chests of drawers for thirty years, and never had made
anything else. He would turn out two veneered chests of drawers in a
week, and the work was faultless. These chests would, I am sure, sell
readily in Brisbane for from twelve to fifteen pounds each. He earned
about nine Prussian thalers per week. On the other side of me stood a
man who made German secretaires. There were nine or ten men in the shop.
The master was working too. He seemed just as poor as the men. Whenever
work was finished, some furniture dealer would come round and buy it.
The men seemed all more or less askew in their bodies with overwork. If
ever they had an ambition in their lives, it was to instil a proper
sense of respect into the two apprentices. I did pity these two boys.
They received their board and lodging from the master, but they could, I
am sure, easily have made one meal out of their four daily allowances.
They slept in a corner of the shop. They had, of course, to be at work
at six o'clock in the morning the same as the men, but while we had half
an hour for breakfast and "vesperkost," they were supposed to eat and
work at the same time. After work-hours at night they had to carry all
the shavings out of the shop to the loft above, from which they were
occasionally removed; then they had tea, and finally, if they liked,
they were allowed to work a couple of hours for themselves. They would
get odd pieces of veneer and wood and make a workbox. When it was
finished, they would one evening run round among the furnishers from
door to door to sell it. The dealer would know that the materials were
not paid for, and of course he did not pay them. A shilling or less is
the price a dealer in Hamburg pays for one of those beautiful workboxes
which are sold all over the world. I wonder how often the buyers of
these boxes think of the lean, ragged youth who has stood late in the
night and made it, most often perhaps to buy an extra morsel of bread
from the proceeds--because, as a matter of fact, that was what these two
boys used to do. The master was accustomed to beat them daily, and if he
was at any time thought too sparing with the rod, and thereby neglecting
their education, the men would themselves beat the lads. It was
winter-time, and daylight only about eight o'clock in the morning. But
in order to reach the shop at six o'clock, the men, who lived mostly in
the suburbs, had to be up at half-past four. I had rented a small room
from one of them, and he and I would generally arrive together. As we
scrambled our way up the dark staircase, he would caution me to walk
softly because, as he said, he wanted to catch these rascally boys in
bed. Poor fellows! If we were the first to arrive they would most often
lie in a heavy sleep. Then he would rush at them, tear the bed-clothes
off them, box their ears, and call them all sorts of _endearing_ names.
The master and the other men, with scarcely an exception, approved of
this. It was not breakfast-time before eight o'clock, and very often
when the apprentices had been hunted to work in this manner they would
get another correction before then for neglecting to wash themselves!
Poor fellows, they had no time. But, as is well known, the harder an
apprenticeship a boy has served, the more cruel does he in his turn
become after his time is out. The Prime Minister himself has not, I am
sure, half as serene a contempt for an apprentice, as a journeyman only
three months out of his apprenticeship.
This work in Hamburg certainly did not suit my ideas of liberty. My head
would swim of an evening when I came out of the shop. As already stated,
I had rented a small room from one of the men for a mere trifle, and I
boarded myself, and very frugal fare I had. This self-denial was because
I soon made up my mind that I would not stay in Hamburg; and so I saved
all that was possible, and it did not take long before I could commence
to count a few thalers in my pocket.
On Sunday evenings I used to go and sit in one of the public gardens,
and listen to the music and watch the faces of the people there.
Sometimes when there was a free show I would be there too, but I never
spent any money. With the din of the shop scarcely out of my ears, and
Monday morning looming only a few hours away, I almost fancied myself of
a different species from such happy, chattering crowds as would pass and
repass seemingly without a care in the world. There was not a soul to
speak to me. For one thing, I could scarcely make myself understood in
German; for another, the men in the shop, who were the only people I
knew, if I did go down the street with one of them, conversation had but
one subject for which was sure somehow to turn on the quality of the
glue we used. They all had a vast reverence for the furniture dealers,
and they were just the people I did not like. I was therefore quite
alone. I was also wonderfully homesick. Often and often did I wish that
I had never run away, but it seemed to me impossible to go home again,
and so I used to sit and speculate on what I had better do. I thought
when I had saved a little money I would go to Paris, or Vienna. They
were nice places I believed; but of one thing I was certain, and that
was that as yet I had not seen anybody I liked as well as myself, or any
place I liked so well as my own home!
One Sunday evening as I walked about the streets, I saw in a window a
large attractive placard on which was printed in red letters, "Free
Emigration to Queensland, Australia." I am certain I had never heard the
name of Queensland before, and my impression of Australia was that it
was the place to which criminals were sent; I had also read something
about gold-diggings in Australia, but it was in the form of a novel, and
I did not believe it. I called to mind what I had read in school in the
geography about Australia, and I remembered it well. It was only a short
paragraph. It ran thus: "Australia. Travellers who come from this
distant continent, bring us very conflicting statements. It seems to be
a land in which nature is reversed. The leaves are hanging downwards on
the trees instead of upwards. Rivers run from the ocean inland. The
interior seems to be one vast lake of salt water. It is the home of the
kangaroo and the black swan. Altogether but little is known about it.
Captain Cook discovered it in the year 1788. It belongs to England. The
Dutch have possessions in the North. It has been used as a penal
settlement by England, but this is now abolished. Of late years gold has
been found in considerable quantities and in several places. Wool,
tallow, and hides are exported. Towns, Sydney and Melbourne."
I can scarcely help laughing to myself now when recalling to mind this
piece of information about Australia. It was really an ignorant and
disgraceful morsel of information for one of the best schools in
Copenhagen to offer to its pupils, but it was all the knowledge I had or
could get, and it was not much assuredly to give one any idea what
Queensland was like. But somehow I determined to find out what I could
for myself. There was gold there that might be more easily got, perhaps,
than by making chests of drawers, so the next day I presented myself at
the office, and asked for information.
Yes, it was right. The ship would sail in a fortnight. "Did I want to
go? Two pounds sterling please. Only three or four tickets left."
"Well--I would like a little information." "Information, yes, we have
every information. What is it you want to know? You get, to begin with,
all your food, and splendid food I can tell you is provided for you on
the whole journey. You also get bed-clothes, and your own knife, spoon,
and fork. This will all become your own property on arrival in
Queensland. Here is the bill of fare."
I hesitated. "When you have arrived in Queensland," cried my informant,
"the Government of that country further engages to board you in a
first-class hotel for two or three weeks, free of all cost, while you
make up your mind what occupation to engage in, and--here it is in the
prospectus, look at this!--they further guarantee to find work for you
making roads, for at least two years after." "Do you yourself know
anything much about Queensland?" I ventured to ask; "I suppose you never
were there?" "I, no, I never was there--I wish I had been, I should not
have to stand here to-day. But we have every information. They have
found gold-diggings again. Here are the statistics of exports; I will
read them for you:--
Marks. Marks.
Hides, 100,000,000,000,000. Horns, 1,000,000,000,000.
Wool, 10,000,000,000,000. Tallow, 10,000,000,000.
Cattle, 1,000,000,000,000. Horses, 100,000,000,000,000.
Gold, 100,000,000,000. Silver, 1,000,000,000,000.
Copper, 1,000,000,000,000,000. Tin, 1,000,000,000,000.
What do you think of that now?"
What I thought was that it was all Latin to me. I did not know why they
exported all this wealth, or why they did not keep it at home. No more
did the man in the office, I am sure. I asked, did he think it probable
that I should obtain work as a carpenter and joiner, and did he know
what wages were going? To that he replied that, of course, I could get
work as a carpenter and joiner, and that wages were at least one pound
per day, but that if I wanted to go he would have to enlist me as an
agricultural labourer, because a whole cargo of carpenters was already
engaged, but that undoubtedly it would pay me better to dig for gold
myself. I concluded that Queensland was a sort of vast gold-field. I
asked what was the cost of living. He said, "If you like to live in an
hotel and be waited on hand and foot, of course you can have it at all
prices; but if you like to cook your own food, it will cost you nothing.
Why man! don't I keep telling you that the cattle are running wild; if
you are wise enough to buy a gun before you go, your meat supply is
secured when you get there, and all sorts of game are in equal
abundance--kangaroos, parrots, and all sorts." I inquired how much, or
rather how little, money did he think it indispensable for me to have
when I landed. He said as for that, no doubt the less I had, the less
chance there was of my being robbed. It would, in his opinion, take some
little time for any one to get alongside the people over there, but,
once having taken their measure, there was no mistake about the
resources of the country. Then, as an afterthought, he added, "In case
on your arrival in the country you should decide to establish yourself
as a farmer the Government makes you a present of"--I think it
was--"eighty acres of land. This land is the best and richest
agricultural land in the colony, and you can pick it out yourself
wherever you like best in Queensland. I will give you the order which
entitles you to your deeds."
I felt very undecided. I did not buy any ticket, nor did I go to work
again that day. I kept roaming about the streets, thinking of Queensland
and the information I had received. Wages a pound sterling per day! if I
would only work for it--the price of food scarcely anything--cattle
running wild--large gold-fields! How was it, then, that there were
hotels where people would wait on the immigrants, "hand and foot." What
silly fellows those publicans must be; would it not pay them better to
work at a trade, or look out for gold? Truly the order of things seemed
to be reversed in that country. And eighty acres of their best land
would they give me if only I would go! Perhaps horses were running wild
as well as cattle. I might be able to catch some and break them in to
plough the land. But what about the plough? Surely nobody made ploughs
there; I should have to bring that with me. Perhaps there were saddlers.
No doubt it would be a good country for a saddler to go to, as it seemed
they had so many hides over there that they had to export them. Probably
if a saddler wanted materials, all he had to do was to flay a bullock
and carry its hide away. But were there bricklayers to build houses?
Certainly I could do the carpentry myself; on a pinch I could do the
bricklaying too. Everything seemed so satisfactory. Perhaps I should
even find gold enough while I was sinking the foundation for my house to
pay for the lot! It need not be such a large piece either. A couple of
nuggets, as large only as one brick each, would go a long way. Perhaps,
too, if I found them, it would be as well to go home again at once. Then
I began to wonder if the fellow in the office would not, if I had asked
him, have told me that houses, by careful cultivation, would grow out of
the ground themselves in that country. In a word, I gave it up. Perhaps
it was all one tissue of falsehood. Perhaps the diggers over there were
only trying to get slaves to work for them. That seemed to me more
reasonable. Why should the Government of the country make me a present
of a large estate? All bosh! But I would go, just to see the land in
which swans were black and rivers running from the ocean inland. If I
should be caught on my arrival, perhaps I might escape to the interior.
There would be no cabinet-maker's shops there, of that I felt certain.
The prospectus said that the Government would guarantee to every
intending emigrant work on the roads of the colony for two years, if he
desired it. I could not think it probable that I desired that, but
perhaps it was meant to pay our passage money. Anyhow, I promised myself
I should not fail for the want of firearms if I did go, and perhaps we
could slay any enemies we found altogether, because undoubtedly there
would be others on board ship who would fight for their liberty.
Liberty, delightful liberty! To be the captain of a gang of warriors,
half robbers, half gold-miners, roaming over the continent of Australia,
seemed a delightful prospect.
This is, I am sure, quite a faithful picture of my wild ideas of
Queensland after I had elicited all the information I could get.
The Government of Queensland spends yearly, I do not remember how large
a sum, in promoting free emigration. They prepared at great cost, and
with elaborate exactness, statistics to show the commercial position of
the country. Then they trust all this to the care of some office at
home, whose officials know little or nothing about Queensland. The
principal in such an office puts a clerk at the counter who has,
perhaps, no other qualification for the work than a facility for
talking. Fancy a home-bred peasant coming into such a place with the
care of a family on his shoulders, and a little money in the bank, and
think of the clerk talking to him about gold-fields and firearms and
statistics, all the time admitting he never was in the colony himself! I
think it is quite enough to prevent any one going out. And yet people of
that class are the only class of poor men who really can do well in
Queensland, and they are almost the only desirable sort of emigrants for
the country itself. The reason is that such a man can, after a very
short spell of colonial experience, go on to a piece of crown land, and
by residing there for five years, and making certain improvements
thereto, very soon get a living out of the soil, and while keeping his
children round him, be independent of everybody. But such people are at
a premium in Queensland. On the other hand, the towns out here are
crowded with men who seek for light work, and I have no hesitation in
asserting that for certain people, such as junior clerks without
influence, grocers' and drapers' assistants, second-class tradesmen,
&c., it is quite as difficult, if not more so, to obtain a living in
Queensland as in Copenhagen. The land order I obtained, and which
entitled me to eighty acres of land wherever I chose to take them, I did
not consider of any value--in fact I threw it away; so did all the other
emigrants on the ship: one might have bought a whole hatful for a dozen
biscuits!
But all this is digression. Still, it is a matter which excites
considerable interest in Queensland, and as I think of that time, these
thoughts come uppermost in my mind. No doubt if I, in the office, had
met a man who came from the colony, and who could have advised me and
spoken with confidence about the country itself, I should have made up
my mind to go in a far less reckless way, and probably I should never
have acquired, after my arrival in the country, that roving disposition
which I contracted, and which did not leave me for many years, if it has
even left me now. Well, I made up my mind to go. I also made up my mind
that it was unnecessary for me to work any more in Hamburg while
waiting for the ship, so I took a holiday and went about town every day,
spending my money to the last farthing. I had bought a revolver,
ammunition, and a long knife. I had bought my ticket too, and so the day
arrived when we were all mustered and put on board the ship.