ARRIVAL AT MR. WRIGHT'S STATION.
A love of excitement was the key to Mr. Wright's secret for remaining on
his farm and cultivating it, while danger attended him at every step
that he took, unless surrounded by a body guard of laborers. Yet he
neglected no precaution to insure his safety, and those under his
charge; and for this purpose he had two natives of Australia attached to
his farm, and their duty consisted in watching for the footsteps of
strangers, and following their trail until satisfied that no wrong was
intended; or, if danger threatened, the occupants of the farm could be
prepared to meet it from the timely warning of the industrious blacks. I
think that I have before spoken of the ability of the Australian to
follow a trail with the fidelity of a bloodhound--no matter how light
the step or what kind of ground is passed over, the native is never at
fault, or thrown off the scent; and even if a dozen men attempt to
deceive him, he picks out the footsteps of the person he is in pursuit
of, and knows an enemy from a friend.
Their tact and knowledge in this respect is marvellous, and is only
equalled by their skill at throwing the boomerang,--a curved piece of
wood, measuring from twenty inches to three feet in length.
As I listened to Day's description of the farmer of the Lodden, and his
means of repelling attacks, and precaution against surprise, I no longer
regretted the dangers of the excursion and its hardships. I longed to
see a farmer of Australia, and learn his method of planting, and what
kind of tools he used, and all the information which I hoped would be
interesting to my agricultural friends in this country. I forgot that I
was not clothed in exactly the kind of costume that would insure me a
warm reception, and I forgot that the farmers of Victoria, as a general
thing, are as aristocratic in feeling as the gentlemanly farmers of
England.
I could have wished for a white shirt and a decent riding costume; but
as I was destitute of those luxuries, I determined to appear like an
American gentleman, even if I didn't look like one.
As for Mr. Brown, he manifested the most profound contempt for clothing
when I hinted the matter to him, and concluded by expressing a hope that
if Mr. Wright didn't like our personal appearance he wouldn't look at
us, which I considered only just and reasonable, although, as a general
thing, I prefer open hostility to quiet contempt.
In about two hours time we gained the banks of the Loddon, and quenched
our thirst with its pure water, and then followed the stream along for a
number of miles until we began to approach signs of cultivation, when we
struck a very good road that apparently had been used for the carting of
water to the farm house. In a short time we came in view of an immense
field of wheat, ripe and ready for reaping, but without a fence or hedge
to guard it against the depredations of animals, although, as far as I
could judge, the grain had not suffered in that respect.
Still, we met with no one connected with the farm; a circumstance that
gave Day some uneasiness, for he was continually urging us to be
cautious how we moved along, and to check our horses the instant a word
was addressed to us.
"It's all very well for you coveys to pretend that you don't care, but
if a few bullets should happen to fly this way and knock you off your
horses, what satisfaction would there be in letting the coveys know that
they had made a mistake. Recollect, you don't look over genteel."
We calmed the shepherd with assurances that we would be extremely
careful, and continued onward, and when we least expected it, a sudden
rounding of the road freed us from the trees which grew upon the banks
of the Loddon, and we emerged upon an open space containing about sixty
acres, and in the middle of the vast square was the farm house belonging
to Mr. Wright. It was quite a respectable building, two stories high,
with flat roof, and constructed entirely of rough logs, yet fitted
together with considerable pretensions to skill and nicety.
On the roof, to keep out the rain, and to prevent the bushrangers or
natives from setting fire with burning arrows, was dirt about a foot
deep, and sodded over with turf. The body of the building, we could see,
was full of loopholes, and commanded every approach, and there was no
tree or outhouse sufficiently near to interfere with this arrangement,
or any unequal ground which a foe could take advantage of.
At some distance to the left of the castle, as Mr. Brown facetiously
called it, were three immense pens, one filled with sheep, and the
others with horses and other animals, and I judged there were as many
dogs on the outside of the pens as there were rams on the inside, for
the instant we appeared in sight we were greeted with such frightfully
discordant yelling and barking that I began to fancy we must indeed
present a woeful spectacle, or we never should be saluted by such
vindictive sounds. Still, not a shadow of a human being did we discover,
and I began to think that the bushrangers had made a descent, murdered
those connected with the farm, and then escaped, when I was suddenly
convinced of my error by hearing the report of a musket, and an ounce
ball whizzed by my head and struck the ground about ten rods in the rear
of us.
"That says, stop where you are, plain enough," remarked Day, checking
his horse; an example which we were not slow in following.
"But if we remain here we shall get no supper," I remarked.
"That is the truest word that you ever uttered," cried Mr. Brown, with a
grin, at our predicament.
"Will you go forward, Day, and let Mr. Wright know that we are friends?"
I asked; but the shepherd shook his head, and declined, and manifested a
willingness to retreat from the neighborhood of the house, although I
will do him the justice of stating that he showed no signs of fear.
"Look at the cowards at the windows of the house," cried Mr. Brown; and
sure enough, the inmates of the building had thrown open the iron
shutters, and were gazing at us with some curiosity, although I noticed
that each man held a musket in his hand for fear of surprise.
"I wouldn't refuse to speak with all the bushrangers in Australia, if I
had a fortress like that to retreat into," muttered Mr. Brown, with a
smile of contempt.
"Let us cross the Lodden, and find the Hawkswood station," suggested
Day, "I'll warrant that we shall get something to eat, and perhaps a
drink of rum there. I've had a taste of the hospitality of that place
more than once."
I was almost resolved to follow the advice, but a look at the heavens
convinced me that we should have rain before many hours, owing,
probably, to the fire which was raging at a distance, as fiercely as
ever, and night was nearly upon us. Besides, I began to feel really
exhausted for the want of food and rest, and I was fearful that if Day
should miss the trail we might wander about until daylight, and still be
some distance from the place we were in search of.
With these opinions I combated both Mr. Brown and Day, and made an
impression, for the former exclaimed pettishly, that if I was desirous
of remaining, I might devise some way of giving Mr. Wright and his
numerous proteges intelligence of our honesty. The task was a difficult
one, but I scorned to be at a loss for expedients.
In the bosom of my shirt I had a handkerchief, made of India silk, and
of a yellow color, but at a short distance it appeared white, and I
thought it would answer for a flag of truce. Therefore, before my
companions were aware of my intention, I flourished the handkerchief
over my head, and galloped at a moderate pace towards the house,
expecting every moment that I should get a shot for my recklessness, but
I intended, if there was any firing, to wait until the farmers were
satisfied that I meant honestly, provided, of course, I escaped getting
hit, of which I was in some fear, I must confess.
Luckily for my safety, Mr. Brown and Day remained where I left them, and
were watching my movements with some curiosity, and considerable
anxiety. Had they advanced towards the house at the same moment as
myself, we should all have bitten the dust, and rich pickings the
stockmen would have had emptying our pockets, and boasting of their
exploits in shooting three men with but a single effective revolver to
defend themselves.
On I galloped, waving my handkerchief in token of friendship, and
exciting dismal howls from the canine brutes, whom I expected every
moment would desert their flocks and attack me, but I afterwards
understood that the dogs were so well trained that no amount of
temptation could induce them from their charges. Had it been otherwise,
my gallant horse would have had to put his speed to good account, tired
as he was.
When within three rods of the house, I halted, and prepared for a parley
with the garrison, and I was the more ready to commence it, from the
simple circumstance of seeing about a dozen old muskets pointed at me,
and the holders of the same glancing along the barrels, as though
meaning mischief.
"Can you give me and my friends supper and lodgings to-night?" I asked,
addressing the crowd, seeing no one that I supposed was in authority.
"Go away wid ye, ye thaves and murderers," cried a voice, "rich with
brogue," and I could not help laughing in the fellow's face at the
answer.
"We will pay you well for our entertainment," I continued, after I had
sufficiently recovered my composure.
"Will ye lave, yer blackguard?" demanded the first speaker, shaking his
old gun at me, and motioning for me to depart as soon as possible.
"We have been without food all day," I continued, "and, after escaping
the dangers of the burning plains, it seems hard to be driven away from
a Christian's door like dogs."
"It's a pity, so it is, that ye wasn't consumed in that same fire. Away
wid ye, and don't bother honest people like us. Ye can't come in here,
and that's flat."
"I suppose that you imagine we are bushrangers," I said; "in that you
are mistaken. We have just escaped from a gang."
"Thin ye had better 'scape back agin, as fast as yer two legs will carry
ye," cried the Irishman.
"It's the first time that I ever knew a native of the Emerald Isle to
refuse a stranger a crust of bread or a drop of water," I continued,
resolved to try what virtue there was in flattery.
"Will yer save yer blarney?" demanded the fellow, again levelling his
gun in my direction, a proceeding that I did not thank him for, although
I did not manifest alarm.
"Go to the devil!" I cried, thoroughly out of patience, "and send your
master to me."
"O, holy St. Patrick! only hear him! He calls me master the devil, and
thinks I won't resent the insult. Look out for yer eye, for by the piper
that played before Moses, I'll bore yer through and through!"
I believe the fellow would have kept his word, and I was just about to
show them my horse's heels, when I heard a man speak in a tone of
authority,--
"Up with your guns, and don't make fools of yourselves by shooting an
unarmed man."
In obedience to the order the guns were lowered, and a number of the men
fell back from the window, and allowed me to get a glimpse of the person
whom I supposed to be Mr. Wright. He was a tall, well-built man, with
broad shoulders, and a face entirely English, covered with sandy
whiskers.
"Who are you?" he asked, with the bluffness and arrogance of a native of
Great Britain.
"A man," I replied.
"I have your word for that, but I require better evidence."
"What better evidence do you require?" I demanded.
He did not notice the remark, but continued,--
"I see many people every week, and although they have the form of men,
they are villains."
"The more reason why you should treat honest people with courtesy when
chance brings them this way," I replied.
"Hear the feller's blarney," muttered the Irishman.
"Silence," said Mr. Wright, and the command was obeyed.
"We have to be extremely cautious whom we admit within these walls," Mr.
Wright continued, "for a gang of bushrangers has been prowling around
the farm for a week or more, and are endeavoring to destroy my flocks.
How shall I know that you don't belong to the gang?"
He waved his hand in a significant manner, and I could not have been
more surprised had an earthquake shaken me from my horse.
"My deeds have always been squared in accordance with the great
principles of the fraternity," I replied, and it was pleasing to see
what a change took place in the demeanor of the farmer.
"Down with your guns," he shouted, "and unbolt and unbar the door. See
to the gentleman's horse, and let us have for supper the best that the
station affords."
The heads disappeared from the windows as if by magic, and in a few
seconds' time the heavy outer door was thrown open, and forth issued Mr.
Wright at the head of his employees. I signalized to Mr. Brown and Day
to advance, and then dismounted and met the strong grip of the farmer's
hand with one equally as hearty.
"I ask ten thousand pardons," he said, "for my questions, but I am
obliged to keep a strict guard over my property, or I should be
surprised by the forest rovers, who would amply repay the numerous
checks which they have received at my hands, were they able to do so."
"Make no apologies," I replied, "for I don't blame you for classing me
with suspicious characters; but the fact is, we have passed through a
cordon of flames, and I think our clothing is somewhat damaged, and our
personal appearance not very prepossessing. We should not have troubled
you had not necessity compelled us."
"No trouble, no trouble," he exclaimed, with all the heartiness of an
Englishman who is disposed to be friendly; "I am always glad to see
company, provided, of course, it's the right kind."
By this time Mr. Brown and Day had joined us, and were waiting to
receive the same welcome that had been bestowed upon me. I introduced
them in due form, and gave Mr. Brown his ex-title, which pleased him
excessively.
"I know you," Mr. Wright said, addressing Mr. Brown. "Haven't we met
before?"
"I should say that we had," replied my friend, scanning the farmer's
face keenly.
"You were stationed at one time in Melbourne?" Mr. Wright inquired.
"For a number of years."
"And of course you remember that I landed at that city ten years since,
with one hundred pounds in my pocket?"
"Large numbers of emigrants arrived with more money than that," replied
the ex-inspector.
"But my case was a peculiar one, for the first night that I stopped on
shore my hundred pounds were stolen," continued Mr. Wright.
"Quite a common case," my friend said; "women are fair to look upon
after a long sea voyage."
"D---- it, you have 'hit the nail on its head," cried the Englishman,
hastily. "I lost all my money."
"I knew you would say that, if you told all. Go on."
"I complained to the police, and you investigated the circumstances, and
found my hundred pounds after some trouble," he continued. "Be thankful
that I was young and inexperienced at that period," cried the
ex-inspector, with a laugh.
"More--you refused to accept of a reward that I offered for the recovery
of the money."
"I must have been dreaming. I am glad to think that there is one
circumstance in my life that I can refer to and not blush," cried my
friend, jocosely.
"Bah!" cried the farmer, who didn't believe that Mr. Brown was speaking
what he felt. "You gave me good advice, and from it I trace all my
property."
"I am glad to think that I have given one person good advice in my
lifetime. I wish that I had taken some of it myself."
"I followed your directions and bought stock with my hundred pounds, and
now look around and see my flocks. I count my cattle by the thousands,"
continued Mr. Wright, pointing to his immense pens.
"I remember you," my friend said, "and knew you the instant you spoke,
but I preferred to let you recall reminiscences of by-gone days, to see
if there is any gratitude in the world."
"Gratitude?" echoed Mr. Wright; "darn it, man, when you are tired of
stopping with me I'll give you a hundred head of cattle."
"Don't do it, for mercy's sake. I prefer that you should give us
something to eat now. Show your liberality that way, for we are
famishing."
"Eat, man! you shall have the best that I can get. Here, Mike, Pat,
Peter, where am you all? Take charge of the gentlemen's horses, and give
them a feed of grain and a thorough rubbing down. Put supper on the
table instantly, and brew us a bowl of punch that will make us sing like
nightingales, and sleep like honest men. This way, gentlemen, there is
my house--rough and uncouth, but better than the shelter of a tree
during a rainy night. You are welcome to my hospitality."