LEAVING THE HERBERT--RAVENSWOOD.
I had again no particular idea as to where I would go, further than that
I wanted to regain my health. But oh, for the sweetness of liberty and
money! I needed not to say anything about money to my old travelling
companions in the boat; they knew I must have a good cheque, and their
attentions were in proportion! Perhaps I wrong them. Perhaps they would
have been just as careful to my wants if they had known me to be
penniless. At any rate, a sort of bed was made for me in the stern of
the boat, and offers to procure for me anything I wanted from the stores
on the plantations were profuse. But I wanted for nothing more than to
lie as easily as I might, because I really was very sick. There had been
a public-house built somewhere a mile from the river-bank since I had
passed that way before, and when we came to the place where a track led
from the water up to it, my two oarsmen proposed to go up to have some
refreshment, and promised to be back directly. Of course I could not go
with them. When they were gone some time a little pig which they had in
a bag in the boat began to find its way out. I thought it a pity to
allow it to escape, and yet I had not strength to get up, but without
calculating the consequences I rolled myself over until I lay on the top
of it. Never shall I forget the howling of that pig in my ears, for I
believe over an hour, until the men came back. The bag had somehow got
mixed in my clothing, and I could not either free myself or the pig,
else I would gladly have let it go. At last the men came back and got us
separated.
When I came to Cardwell I thoroughly enjoyed, although I was sick, the
luxury of lying in a clean bed with white sheets, and mosquito curtains
all around me, and to have one of the servants at the hotel coming to my
door all day long asking if she could do anything for me. There was
neither doctor nor chemist in the place, but one of the storekeepers
came and looked at me, and sold me some medicine which in a short time
drove the fearful "shakings" I had away. Meanwhile, as there was no
other communication with the outer world than "the schooner," which ran
between Cardwell and Townsville, I had inquired when the schooner would
be in as I had decided to go to Townsville again. On the same day that
the ague had for the first time left me, I was told that the schooner
would be ready to run out at eleven o'clock at night. I was then so
careless of myself, or so foolish, that I, at that hour of the night,
for the first time in a fortnight, got out of my bed and went on board
the craft. It was only a sort of fishing smack, rowed by two men, who
had a small enclosure somewhere on board where they could be dry. For
passengers there was no accommodation whatever. In the hold, which was
open, was nothing but some old sails, rusty chains, empty boxes, and the
like. Two or three more passengers came on board, who at once secured
the best places in the hold, while I, who for the first time for many
weeks felt remarkably well, sat up on the deck enjoying the strong
breeze, and even tried to smoke a pipe. But any North Queenslander will
tell you that when one has had fever he has to be extra careful of not
catching cold. I did not know that just then, but in a very short time I
did. I got a fearful toothache. My enervated system did not feel able to
hold up against this new affliction, and so I threw myself down among
the ropes and boxes in the hold. There I lay, while the pain gradually
increased. The wind was against us, and it took eight or nine days
before we reached Townsville. During that time my agony grew more acute
every day. I had neither strength nor energy enough to stand on my feet.
My head swelled up to a fearful extent. My mouth was in such a state
that I could not swallow, and I gradually lost power to open my mouth or
to speak. When we had been two days out I raised myself on my elbow to
try to drink some tea and eat some mashed bananas, which some one gave
me in a pint pot. I could not swallow, so I laid myself down again and
did not after that touch food. I heard them speak about me on deck, and
say that they ought to have found out my name, because I should scarcely
last out unless the wind changed. I heard this distinctly, and laughed
to myself, because I knew I was not going to die just yet. Still to all
their inquiries I could not reply. One day I heard a Dane speaking in my
ear; where he came from, or where he went to, I do not know, but he
asked me, "Are you a Dane?" I grunted. Then he said, "What is your
name?" I tried to stutter it out from between my teeth time after time,
but he could not understand, and kept on, "Say it again." At last he
gave it up. Then he asked me if there was anything he could do for me?
what ship I had come out in, and so on. But I was so disgusted with my
own inability to use my tongue, that otherwise so ready a friend of
mine, that I made no further attempt to speak, and my countryman
disappeared again. There was now only one thought that possessed my
mind, viz., to get to Townsville, and when there to have all my teeth
pulled out. Of course it was more a relapse from the fever that was
wrong with me than toothache, but I did not know it. I lay in a daze day
after day, every time the boat gave a lurch my head would strike against
something, and the agony I suffered cannot be described. At last the
skipper took hold of me and cried, "Well, stranger, here we are in
Townsville; where shall we take you to?"
It came on me so unexpectedly that it seemed again to send the
life-blood through me. I stared around me and saw that we were lying
close to the wharf.
Up I jumped, to the great surprise of the skipper, and leaving my swag
behind me, and holding on with both hands to my head, I staggered
ashore. It was about eight o'clock in the morning when I landed. I knew
it because I heard all the breakfast bells ringing from the hotels, and
although I did not feel hungry, yet it reminded me that I had eaten
nothing for two weeks. On I staggered like a drunken man. People seemed
to look surprised at me, and to go out of their way for me. I came to a
chemist's shop. He also looked at me in a disgusted sort of way. I took
up a pen and wrote to him that I wanted all my teeth pulled out. He felt
my pulse. "My friend," said he, "I think you had better go to a doctor."
I gave him to understand that I was tired, and did not know where the
doctor lived.
"Wait," cried he, "I will get a man to go with you."
Then he went out of the shop. As I turned round I saw a very large
mirror, in which I beheld my own image from head to foot. At first I did
not realize it was myself as I stared at it. Would my own mother have
known the picture? I hope not. Unkempt, unwashed for nearly a fortnight,
my hair hung in matted knots about my face. My whole head was swollen
to such an extent that to describe it as I saw it would seem
exaggeration. Add to this a graveyard complexion in the face, and an
emaciated form, dressed in an old crimean shirt, dirty moleskin trousers
and blucher boots, and you have the picture I beheld of myself as I
stood looking. I felt my knees giving way under me, made a grab at the
counter and fell. The next thing I remember was that I was lying on a
nice bed, in a room which proved to be in the adjoining hotel, and that
a doctor was there. With consciousness my agony returned, and I again
preferred my request in writing that he should pull all my teeth out.
"Yes, that is all very well," said he, "but we must first try to break
your mouth open. You must go to the hospital. I will give you a ticket.
What is your name? Have you no money?"
I took out all I had got, my one hundred pounds' cheque and some change,
and laid it on the table. At the same time I wrote to him on a paper and
asked him to take charge of it and give me the balance when I asked for
it. I also asked him to order anything I wanted and to spare no expense.
Then the doctor suggested to call in a colleague that they might
consult, and when the next doctor arrived they agreed to give me
chloroform, but after great preparations had been made and a sponge held
to my nose for a minute or two without having any effect on me, they
again decided that I was too weak for chloroform, but as I, half
crying, beckoned to them to do in my case what had to be done, one of
them, with his knee on my chest, put an instrument between my teeth
while the other held my head back and somebody else sat behind my chair
and held my arms. My mouth came open. I will not unnecessarily prolong
the agony, only to state that I felt relieved shortly after and that
somebody with the utmost tenderness was bathing my head. I had now
nothing to do but to allow people to wait on me. I stayed in the hotel
for two days, when the doctor's own buggy came for me and I was driven
to the hospital. So that the reader may not be under the impression that
I wear false teeth, I would like to say that not a tooth was pulled or
any other surgical operation performed. I now got better rapidly. It
seemed impossible to feel sick in that hospital. I had a large private
room and broad verandahs outside. From my bed I could lie and watch the
ocean all day and try to count the islands. My friend, the doctor, came
also every day, and any extra comfort I wanted was quickly procured. As
I grew better I would sit and bask in the sun down among the rocks by
the shore in that half-unconscious but blissful condition which I
believe is common to all convalescents, or a couple of hours before
meal-time I would lie on my bed watching the sun and its shadows on the
floor so that I might be prepared and lose no time the moment the man
came with the dinner. Oh, for the ravenous hunger with which I could
eat! Although I had double the ordinary allowance, yet after a month's
stay in the hospital, I had to leave it for very hunger's sake. I then
settled my bill with the doctor, who charged me very moderately, and
went to live in a hotel in town. When I was perfectly cured and myself
again I could easily have obtained work in town at my trade for four
pounds per week, but I had a sort of dislike to the place, which decided
me to go up to the gold-diggings and try my luck there. The nearest
diggings were at Ravenswood, some hundred and thirty miles inland. Other
diggings were scattered behind that place, but to reach them I
understood I had to go to Ravenswood first, and that it was as good a
place as any. I bought two horses, with all necessary appendages, such
as saddle, pack-saddle, bridles, &c. They cost me about thirty pounds. I
put thirty pounds more into the bank as a sort of reserve fund in case
of accident, and after paying my way so far, and buying a few necessary
clothes, I had only some nine or ten pounds left. So one morning I
packed the one horse with my swag, containing clothes and blanket, in
the large saddle-bags. I had small bags containing flour, tea, sugar,
and other necessary things for a journey through the bush, because,
although the road I had now to travel was a beaten track, yet it is a
Queensland custom on all occasions to be as independent as possible.
Besides, when one sets out for a ramble, there is no saying where one is
going to pull up, and it seems so pleasant to know that one is
all-sufficient in his own resources, without requiring any aid from
wayside inns. So at least did I think as I rode out of the town; and as
this was my first experience of what we in Queensland call going on the
"wallaby track," I enjoyed it immensely.
The way a man acts when travelling like this, is just to please himself.
When a fair day's journey is done, one begins to look out for a likely
spot for grass and water, and having found that, you get off the horses
and hobble them out--that is, having freed them of their load, their
forefeet are tied together with a pair of strong leather straps in such
a way that they can only totter slowly about. Having done that a fire is
made, the billy is slung on for tea, and when supper is over, a smoke, a
yarn--if there is a mate--and then a roll in the blanket with a saddle
for a pillow.
There is often a lot of argument about what is a fair day's journey on
horseback. Of course it is a matter which never can be decided, because
so much depends upon the horses, the road, what the horses get to eat,
&c., but I do not believe many careful travellers will take their horses
more than twenty miles a day for a long journey, and then rest them
occasionally, but to hear some people talk one would think their horses
could go a hundred miles every day. In Queensland travellers have
sometimes to ride forty or fifty miles between watering-places. Most
horses can do it, if taken care of, but not every day. When travellers
meet on a Queensland road their first question after greeting is, "How
far is it to water?" and the distance between watering-places is
practically what decides a day's journey. In times of drought these
water-holes get scarce or dry up completely; rivers stop running; then
it behoves the traveller to look out where he goes. If misfortune
happens, or he has not calculated rightly the endurance of his horse, or
the water-hole on which he depends should be dried up when he arrives
there, then he is likely to perish! As for myself, I have on more than
one occasion arrived in a parched condition at a water-hole, only to
find a lot of dead cattle bogged in the soft mud, and still have been
compelled to drink the pint or two of putrefied water that might be
left. The reader will therefore see that travelling in the Queensland
bush is not exactly a perpetual picnic.
Nothing of importance happened to me on this road, unless I were to
mention that when I was about half-way I met a swag's-man, that is, one
who carries his swag on his own back and has no horses. This fellow
asked to let him put his burden on my horse, which I let him do. I then,
by talking to him as we went along, found out that he had neither money
nor rations, and as we were only a few miles from Hugton Hotel I
promised to pay for dinner at that place for us both. Arrived at the
hotel, I ordered a first-class dinner for two; it was five shillings.
The table was laid for us with a big roast of beef and a plum-pudding.
After we both had eaten what we wanted, my fellow-traveller put nearly
all the remaining food into his bags and decamped, in spite of my
protestations. I remember well how scandalized I felt! Otherwise the
road was not lonely; every day I passed waggons hauled by sixteen or
eighteen bullocks each and filled with merchandise for the diggings.
There were also other travellers, both on foot and on horseback, but I
did not go myself in company with any, and so at last, one forenoon, I
saw the township of Ravenswood lying before me. I stopped the horses to
have a good look.
At last I was on a gold-field. What a magic spell there seemed to me in
the words. All the old fallacious ideas connected with the word crowded
into my mind. Runaway nuns dressed in men's clothes, princes working
like labourers, and labourers living like princes--"looking for gold!"
Had I not better begin at once?
As I came nearer I saw what seemed to me wells on all sides and tents
near the wells. Then as I looked at the ground again I became fearfully
excited. Big nuggets of shining gold were lying all around on the road.
Was it possible? Surely I knew gold when I saw it. I got off the horse
and picked it up. Not pure gold, though. But surely half of it was gold.
It glittered all over. I picked pieces up as I went along and fairly
howled with joy as I filled my bags. Think of those fools coming behind
with their flour-bags and of all the empty waggons I had met going
down, while I was finding a fortune before I reached the diggings! At
the place where I had now come, they could have loaded all the waggons
quickly. I could not carry more as I went further, ruminating over the
matter. Now the whole ground right and left was glittering all the way
into town. I threw the stuff all away again. It could not be gold! Then,
with a voice shaking between hope and fear, I asked a man who came by,
what that was. He told me at once it was "rubbish." "Did you think it
was gold?" asked he.
"No; but I thought there might be gold in it."
"Yes," said he, "so there was, but it did not pay to extract it."
In this way somewhat sobered, I rode further and arrived in town, where
the next day I pitched a tent I had bought somewhere handy to the other
tents, put the horses in a paddock and looked about me.
I will not attempt a long description of this the first gold-field I was
ever on. There was an ordinary street composed of hotels,
boarding-houses, and stores, on both sides of the road. Behind the
street were tents in which the diggers principally lived. Everywhere
were earth-mounds where some one was or had been busy rooting the ground
about. The reefs were each surmounted by an ordinary windlass, where a
man would stand hauling up the quartz all day long. Such was the picture
presented at a superficial glance at Ravenswood, and I think the
description answers for all other Queensland gold-diggings. Nearly all
the people boarded in two boarding-houses kept by Chinamen, one on each
side of the street. I think there must have been two or three hundred
boarders in each. They were both alike, two large bark-houses, no floor,
only two immense tables with forms on each side. On these tables were at
meal-times every conceivable delicacy in season, and up and down between
the tables an army of Chinamen would run round waiting on their guests.
During my various fortunes in Queensland, I have often paid two or three
pounds per week for board in hotels, and I have paid half-a-guinea for a
ticket to a public feast, but it has always been my impression that
nowhere was such good or luxurious food served out as in these
boarding-houses. It would simply be impossible to compete with them. The
charge was one pound per week, payment beforehand, and those of their
customers who wanted sleeping accommodation might, without extra charge,
fix themselves up as they liked in some sheds behind. There were also
many hotels in town, but, as far as I could see from the outside, their
"takings" were more across the bar than otherwise, as the Chinamen
seemed to monopolize the boarding-house trade. All over Australia, but
especially in Queensland, there is a bitter feeling against Chinamen.
People say that they ought to be forbidden to come to the country,
because they work too hard and too cheaply, and eat too little at the
same time; consequently we shall all go to the dogs. How is this? Surely
"there is something rotten in the state of Denmark." A white man is
always praised if he is hard-working and frugal. It seems a
contradiction to abuse one for what is commended in another! This is an
awful world. Some people say we are poor because we work too much, and
run ourselves out of work. Others say we do not work half enough, and
that that is the reason. Some say that Protection is a panacea for
poverty, others swear by Free Trade. In Australia they want to turn out
the Chinamen because they work too much; in China they want to turn out
the whites, I suppose for the same reason. Of all countries, I believe,
Australia certainly included the greatest majority of the people living
in different degrees of poverty, and work is getting to be as scarce
here where the population does not count one to the square mile, as it
is in Denmark where there are four hundred inhabitants to the square
mile. Of late years one more theory has sprung up, and its disciples
aver that all our poverty, despite our hard work and frugal fare, is due
to the fact that the earth on which we live is sold in large or small
parcels in the open market like tea and sugar, and that the owners of
the earth can in the shape of rent extract the greatest part of our
earnings. I ask the reader's pardon for this little digression, but it
seems to me to be an interesting question, and it would at least be
desirable if we all could agree whether it is Chinamen, Free Trade, or
Protection, or what not, whom we really want, because there _is_
"something rotten in the state of Denmark."
I took my board, like everybody else, with the Chinamen and lived in my
tent not far away. I occupied myself in prospecting, or learning how to
prospect, but what little gold-dust I could find was not worth coming
all the way for. I soon got tired of that, and one day I went and asked
for a job of carpenter's work in a large Government building I saw going
up.
Before I proceed further I must explain that a certain fixed scale of
wages existed here for most occupations, and this scale was very
jealously guarded by the people. It was three pounds per week for miners
in dry claims, three pounds ten shillings in wet claims, bricklayers
sixteen shillings per day for eight hours, carpenters fifteen shillings,
&c. I had heard this but I had not believed it. I took it that those
figures represented what men would like to get rather than what they
actually got, and while I worked for a master I always preferred to put
my pride in earning what I got, rather than, perhaps, getting what I did
not earn. I understand the importance now of keeping up wages, but at
that time I did not, and when the carpenter said he would give me twelve
shillings a day and find tools not only did I think myself well paid,
but I had no idea or care whether others got more or less.
Beside myself there was an American negro employed as carpenter. He
seemed a very morose sort of individual, but I took no notice of him and
was hopping about all day, giving as I thought as much satisfaction to
others as to myself. I often heard the "boss" grumble at the negro, and
occasionally I would be set to put him right about what he was working
at. This happened one afternoon as the "boss" went away shortly before
five o'clock, and I was consequently explaining to him out of my wisdom,
when he suddenly asked what wages I was getting. I told him with great
pride I was getting _twelve_ shillings a day.
Squash came a stick down over my head, then he flew at my throat and
kicked and belaboured me in a terrible way. At last he flung me with
awful violence out on the verandah, got hold of me again and threw me
outside. He was two or three times as big a man as I, and I could not at
all defend myself against him, nor had I any idea why he had thus
maltreated me; but as there was no one to appeal to, I, in a terrible
rage, ran home to my tent for the gun. It stood there loaded, and I took
it up and started back again along the main street. The blood was
running down my face, and I howled to myself with rage as I ran. I meant
to shoot him as dead as a herring.
"Halloa!" cried the people, "there is a fellow running amuck," and soon
there was a whole crowd behind me, intent on watching the sport.
But I must now go back in time a little. There was at that period in
Ravenswood a Danish digger, whom I had met and who had been very
friendly to me, and both because he plays an important part in the next
few pages I have to write, and because I have entitled this book
"Missing Friends," I think he deserves mention, as he indeed had been,
and is no doubt yet, "a missing friend." He had been a farmer in
Denmark, what we in Danish call a yardsman, who owned his own freehold.
When the war with Germany in 1864 broke out, he was called on to serve
in the artillery. He was married then, had two children, and was, like
all Danish farmers, in extremely good circumstances. During the war he
was taken prisoner by the Germans, but was by some mistake reported dead
by the Danish authorities. He told me that he wrote home as soon as he
could, but the letter never reached his wife. Shortly after he tried to
escape from the Germans, and, being caught, defended himself
desperately. For this offence he was condemned to three years' hard
labour on the fortifications of some place in the south of Germany. For
one reason and another he did not write from there. Partly he was not
much of a writer, partly he objected to the enemy reading his efforts,
and as he knew his wife had plenty to live on, and that his neighbours
at home would help her to run the farm, he neglected writing, and as the
time went on pictured to himself in rosy colours the happy surprise he
would give his wife and them all at home when he _did_ return. At last
the time arrived when he was set free, and started for home. Meanwhile
his wife had bemoaned him as dead, and what little hope his friends
might have had for him died when he did not return at the end of the
war. It did not take long before one suitor after the other presented
themselves, and a couple of years later the wife got married again, with
the full consent and approval of all concerned.
One day, when sitting at dinner on the farm, the wife saw her first
husband coming in at the door. With a scream of joy and excitement, she
rushed towards him. (Tableau.) Husband No. 2 was as honourable a man as
husband No. 1. There was a second family. What was to be done? They made
a sad but friendly compact. My friend took the eldest child with him,
and went to Australia, after having got back a fair amount of his own
cash. This man now came from his work, and as I rushed down the street,
we met. I did not see him, but he saw me. "Hulloa, countryman, what is
the matter? Stop! where are you going?"
I tried to escape him, but he had hold of the gun. We struggled for
possession and the stock broke. When the gun broke my hope of revenge
fled as well, and in the relaxation which followed I sat down on some
steps and actually cried. I admit that it is sometimes as hard for me to
write about my weakness as about my folly, but I will ask the reader to
remember what I already have written here. The truth must be told. There
was now a large and sympathetic crowd around us, to whom I related how
the negro had maltreated me without any provocation, and while I spoke I
could see that the chances were that I would yet have revenge, because
all sorts of remarks would fly about, such as: "The poor fellow had
pluck, by Jove;" "Would you have shot him?" or, "Such a rascally negro
should not be allowed to strike and half kill a white man;" "I think I
can flog him;" "So can I, and I will;" "No Bill! you cannot!" "Let me,
you are not heavy enough!" "No," cried the Dane, and struck a crushing
blow in the wall of the house by which we stood; "he is my countryman,
and any one who strikes him, him I will strike. Where is that negro?
Only let me see him."
I went with a sort of pious joy in front of the whole crowd up to the
negro's tent. When he saw us all coming, he thought they were going to
mob him, and only asked for fair play. He would fight them all, man for
man, and as for me, he had only struck me in open fight because I was
running down wages, working for twelve shillings a day. I was surprised
how much sympathy this statement created, but my countryman cut it short
by saying he would fight first and argue after. "All right, I'm your
man," cried the negro; "only pull off your shirt. I am dying to
commence."
They both pulled off their shirts, and some willing assistants from the
crowd got behind each combatant to watch his interest in the coming
struggle. It was easily seen now that my countryman was a very strong
man. His arms, his shoulders, and his deeply curved back were swelling
with muscles. In his face sat a determination which boded his opponent
no good. Still, my heart sank as I looked at the negro, who was prancing
about as in irresistible joy over what he deemed his easy victory. He
seemed little short of a giant. They were just beginning to spar, when a
seedy-looking individual came forward and cried, "Hold on, gentlemen,
hold on, just one minute. It seems that we are going to see a splendid
piece of sport, and I think we ought to improve the occasion a little. I
will lay two to one on our coloured friend--two to one on Mr. Jones!"
Nobody took him up, when the negro said, "I don't mind if I lay a pound
or two on myself; any one on?" I looked at my countryman. He said, "Have
you got any money on you?" "Yes," said I, "I have got over ten pounds!"
"Lay it all," said he. "Oh, but if we should lose?" "Death and
destruction, we don't lose; lay it all." "Right you are! I lay ten
pounds to twenty against the nigger--ten to twenty--ten to twenty--who
will take me up?"
At last the amount was gathered, but the question arose in my mind
whether the first promoter of the "sweepstakes" might be trusted with
the stakes. I asked my friend in Danish, before I handed the money over;
he said, "Just give it to him; it is all right. If we lose, we have
nothing more to do with the money, but if he won't give up the stakes
to us after I have flogged the nigger, I will flog him too!"
Now began the terrible fight. The negro had both strength and science,
and for a long time it seemed as if my countryman was utterly done for.
It began to get dark and still they fought, but the longer it lasted the
more equal seemed the battle. At last it began to turn; at every round
my countryman would charge the negro with a loud hurrah; in another
quarter of an hour it was simply a matter of knocking him down as fast
as he got up; at last the negro was lying on the ground with his nose
downward, and could not get up again, while the Dane, stronger than
ever, was jumping all over the ring calling on him to get up. As he did
not get up, the Dane ran up to a man who held a riding-whip in his hand,
wrenched it from him, and belaboured the negro's head and back with it
until he quite lost consciousness. I admit if I had dared I would have
tried to prevent that part of the performance, but neither I nor anybody
else stirred. Of course I was not sorry when my friend and I went home
together, our ten pounds having swelled to thirty. Another advantage I
had over this matter was that I had to promise not to work under current
wages again, and when I came to work the next morning the "boss," who
had heard of the fight, at once agreed to pay me fifteen shillings a
day. As for the negro, he did not turn up and I have never seen him
since.