"What dire offence from amorous causes springs,
What mighty contests rise from trivial things."
POPE.
We last left John Ferguson returning to Fern Vale after his interview
with Mr. Rainsfield; and he had reached his home, and had actually
dismounted from his horse, before the merry laugh of his sister roused
him from his reverie. When Kate and the rest of the party had reached
the house, they were surprised to find John absent; the more so as they
were informed he had ridden over in the morning to Strawberry Hill. They
certainly had not passed him on the road, and they thought there was no
probability of his having been diverted from his purpose; they
therefore could not understand where he had got to, though they agreed
the best thing they could do was to await his return.
William had taken them all over the place, and through the house that
was only waiting the arrival of the furniture, to claim its pretty
little visitor as its mistress; and the party were just emerging from
the building, when Kate spied her brother John approaching, apparently
absorbed in deep thought, and perfectly deaf to the sound of the voices
of herself and her friends. When she, however, saw him alight from his
horse, at the huts a short distance off, and perceived that he was
perfectly abstracted, she could restrain her spirits no longer, and ran
laughingly to throw herself in his arms. It was at this moment, that
John Ferguson was made alive to the fact that his home had been honoured
by the visit of his friends; and he advanced to meet his sister, and
greeted her with a fond inosculation, as a token of fraternal affection.
We do not approve of the constant eduction of scenes of affectionate
union, where the thoughts, contemplations, and utterances, the
spontaneous ebullitions of love, are dragged before the gaze of all. We
deem them at all times too sacred to be made subject to the comments and
criticism of uninterested parties; and therefore, in the case of Kate's
meeting with her brother, would beg to draw a veil over the scene, and
wait, in the resumption of our apologue, until they join their friends.
The various greetings and congratulations were soon ended; and Tom
Rainsfield commenced the general conversation by asking of his friend:
"What on earth became of you, John? When we arrived here we were told
you had gone over to our place; but you had not been there before we
left, and if you had gone by the track we should have met. I suppose you
were emulated with a desire for discovery, and attempted to find a short
cut through the bush, eh?"
"No indeed," replied John, "I kept to the road; but, I imagine, I must
have been at Strawberry Hill just before you started, for, as I was
coming up to the house, I saw saddled horses at the door. I was called
in by Mr. Billing as I was passing his cottage, as he said he desired a
little conversation with me; so I presume that, owing to that
circumstance, I missed you."
"What could have induced that inordinate old humbug," continued Tom, "to
have drawn you into his den? I suppose to tell you all about his family
affairs."
"Yes," replied John, "he certainly did treat me to a long dissertation
on his misfortunes in life; the greatest of which was his coming to the
colony, and which appears, _prima facie_, to be the head and front of
his offending."
"But didn't you ask for us?" enquired Tom; "or did you see my brother?
and did he not tell you that we had gone over to your place?"
"I did see Mr. Rainsfield," said John, "but to tell you the truth, I did
not go up to the house."
"And you didn't even ask for me?" enquired Mrs. Rainsfield. "I could
hardly have believed in such thoughtlessness in any of my friends, and
especially in you. Pray, sir, will you make some explanation? I am
almost inclined to be angry with you. But, as we intend to retain
possession of your sister for some time, we shall demand of you, as
penance; a constant attendance upon us at 'The Hill.'"
"I fear, my dear Mrs. Rainsfield," replied John, "I must decline to
enlighten you on my remissness; and I am afraid also I shall prove a
refractory penitent; for, in the first place, I think it highly
improbable that I shall have the pleasure of visiting Strawberry Hill
again; at least for a time. And I must take an early opportunity of
relieving you of the protection of Kate."
"What does the man mean?" exclaimed his good-natured lady visitor, in
mock astonishment. "Am I to understand that you not only refuse to come
and see us, but that you are churlish enough to desire to seclude your
sister with yourself in mutual confinement? You are really becoming
perfectly mysterious, John Ferguson. I do not understand all this, and
must insist upon a solution. Tell me, now," continued she, as she went
smilingly up to him, "what is it that makes you estrange yourself from
us, and studiously avoid our society? I think I can read you better than
to ascribe it to that little fracas at our pic-nic."
"I do not wish to pain you, my dear madam," replied Ferguson, "by making
an explanation that I am confident will be extremely disagreeable to
you; rather let me remain as I am, and retain your esteemed friendship,
and believe me I have good cause for absenting myself from your house."
"Nay, I will not be satisfied with that," replied Mrs. Rainsfield, "you
are only intensifying my curiosity by endeavouring to evade my demand;
something has occurred, I am sure, to make you so determined in your
avoidance of us; and I must know what it is. If you decline
enlightening me on the subject I must seek information from Mr.
Rainsfield, or Eleanor; so you had better make a virtue of necessity,
and tell me at once."
"I had much rather the subject had not been broached," said John; "but,
as you are determined to know the cause of my elimination, I suppose I
must communicate what I would sooner have buried in oblivion. It appears
that your husband has formed some prejudice against me, the cause of
which I am unable to account for. I accidentally learnt from my black
boys that some espionage, in connexion with your station, was meditated
by the Nungar tribe; and I took an early opportunity of going over to
Strawberry Hill to apprise Mr. Rainsfield of the fact. He received me
with marked coolness, for what reason I am at a loss to conjecture; and
actually accused me of exercising an incentive influence over the tribe
to his detriment. I would willingly believe that he has formed some
misconception of my actions; but to impute such a motive to me is
simply ridiculous. He loaded me with invective, and wound up his
inflammatory tirade by requesting that I would discontinue my visits to
his house; and before I recovered from my surprise I found myself alone;
though, even if he had remained, I question if I should have succeeded
in disabusing his mind, for he seemed in no disposition to listen to
reason. I have no doubt but that he will very soon discover his error;
but until then, you will perceive, Mrs. Rainsfield, it is utterly
impossible that I can pay my respects to you at 'The Hill;' and it would
also, under the circumstances, be highly inconsistent in Kate stopping
longer with you than can be helped."
"I am truly grieved," replied the lady, "to hear of your rupture with my
husband, Mr. Ferguson; it gives me great pain, I can assure you. I can't
think he can be prejudiced against you, for he always entertained the
highest esteem for you. It is possible he may have formed some
erroneous impression with regard to those horrid blacks; but, whatever
is the cause of the ill feeling, I will endeavour to dispel it; and have
your friendship reestablished upon the old footing. But, in the
meantime, it is impossible that you can take Kate away from us; you
can't put her into an empty house, and you certainly would not have the
cruelty to lodge her in those huts of yours. You must leave her with us,
at least until you have made a comfortable home for her; and even then,
I don't think the poor girl will have a very enviable life, living in
seclusion, without a female near her."
"I have already thought of that," replied John, "and have hired a man
and his wife; the latter, who is a professed cook, will be entirely
under Kate's direction. Besides, our little black fellow, Joey, whom we
brought from New England with us, is as useful, if not more so, as half
the female servants in the country. So I think, on that score, we will
be able to make our sister perfectly comfortable."
"At all events," said Mrs. Rainsfield, "it is understood you leave her
with us until your furniture arrives."
"Very well," replied John, "I suppose it must be so. I need not beg of
you to refrain from mentioning to any one in your house, not even to
Kate, that any unpleasantness exists between our families; your own good
judgment will convince you of the non-necessity. But suppose we join our
friends, for we appear to have wandered quite away from them during our
conversation;" and John Ferguson, and Mrs. Rainsfield, returned to the
spot where the rest of the party stood.
"Well, it is to be hoped you two are satisfied with your 'confidential,'"
remarked Tom, as the parties thus addressed joined the _menage_. "We
were beginning to think you were meditating an elopement, and were just
proposing giving you chase. We are agitating the question of return.
Miss Ferguson says she does not like this dreadful wilderness of yours,
John, and is anxious to get back to Strawberry Hill, and within the
bounds of civilisation."
"Oh, what a dreadful falsehood!" cried Kate, "you know I never said such
a thing; for that I am half disposed to stop here at once, and if I
thought it would be any punishment to you, I would. I am sure my brother
would make room for me if I desired it."
"I offer an abject apology, my dear Miss Ferguson," exclaimed the
culprit; "we could not dream of losing you now; so I will make any
reparation necessary to appease you."
"Well, then behave yourself, sir, and adhere to the truth," said Kate.
"I think, my dear," said Mrs. Rainsfield, "we really had better return,
or it will be dark before we get home; so if Tom did not read your
thoughts, his fib suggested an expediency." Kate now took leave of her
brother; and Mrs. Rainsfield, she, and Tom mounted their horses, and
departed; the latter turning in his saddle as he left the station,
called out to John, "I'll be over in the morning;" and the party were
speedily lost to sight.
Mr. Wigton and the brothers turned into the hut, and were soon engaged
in a conversation, which, though interesting to themselves, it is
unnecessary for us to follow. Towards the close of the evening as they
sat before their hut, the brothers enjoying their pipes over the fire
that was boiling the water for the infusion of the temperate beverage
that graced their board at the evening meal; and while Joey, who
officiated in the culinary department, was preparing the repast in the
interior of the domicile, the dray that we have met already on the road
from Alma, was seen to wind slowly off the face of the ridge and down
the vale to the creek that ran through it. Here it stopped, while the
driver seemed to hold an altercation with his companions, and appeared
to be undecided as to some course they were meditating.
"Who are those people, William?" said his brother. "Where on earth can
they be going? Just step down and see; for they must surely have gone
out of their way, and find themselves now at a stand still."
William walked down to the spot where the dray had halted; and returned
in a few minutes with the information, that the travellers were on their
way to take possession of a "run" one of the party had bought, on the
river below their own place, from Bob Smithers; and stated that he had
told the fellow that he might camp where he was, and go over and form
his station on the following day; he had also invited him to come up to
the hut in the evening and smoke his pipe, which the man had promised to
do. His name, William said, was Sawyer; and he appeared to be an
individual who had not been blessed with either much cultivation or
education. "He is," said William, "a regular specimen of an old hand,
and I expect has seen much service."
In the course of the evening Mr. Sawyer made his appearance with his
"old woman," as he familiarly designated his wife, and daughter. The
family was unaltered in appearance since we last introduced it to the
reader; and while the females took their seats on two stools, provided
for them by the Fergusons, in a stiff and formal manner which they
intended for a distinguishing mark of good breeding, the old man threw
himself down on the grass before the fire. After collecting a few
sticks, and throwing them on himself, he lit his pipe with a "fire
stick," and commenced the following conversation; which he continued
between the intervals of his smokey eructations.
"I suppose you ain't been here long, mate," said he, addressing John;
"you look as if you had newly settled, and the country here can't have
been long taken up."
"It is true," replied John, "we have not been resident here very long,
not yet twelve months. My brother tells me you have purchased the block
of country below us; may I ask if you are about to stock it?"
"Well, I ain't agoing to do nothing else. You see I have got my dray
down there with my rations, and traps; and I am now going over to fix
upon a place for my station, and put up some huts and yards. We have
bought our stock on the 'Downs,' and my other son is there now, waiting
for me to go back, to be there while the sheep are drafted. We must get
a place up first to put the old woman and the girl in, and then we will
look after the stock."
"But," said William, "you surely are not going to leave your wife and
daughter alone, while you go back to the Downs for your flocks? It can't
be your intention to leave them unprotected, in this part of the bush?
Are you aware of the freedom of the blacks here?"
"No," replied Sawyer, "I don't know much about the blacks in these
parts; 'cos I ain't seen much of them yet; but I know just exactly what
they were on the Hunter twenty years ago; and I be sure they arn't
worse here than they were there; and my old woman has had as much to do
with them as me. Do you think I am afraid to leave her by herself? Lord
bless you, sir; my word! she is 'all there' to take care of herself; and
in her own house I'll back her against any dozen white men and any fifty
blacks."
"You are quite at liberty," said John, "if you like, after you have
built your huts, to leave your wife and daughter and your stores and
things here to await your own return."
"I am obliged to you, young man," exclaimed old Sawyer; "but I'd rather
leave them at our own station, and I reckon they would rather stop there
themselves; besides if I built my huts, and then left them, the
blackguardly blacks would most likely burn them."
"Well, Mr. Sawyer, you can please yourself," replied John, "but you are
quite welcome to make use of our place if you like."
"All right, sir," replied he addressed, "I've no doubt; but you see
I've no fear of my old woman being alone, so I shall just leave her to
bide until I come back. Howsomdever we shan't be long away, and I don't
think I shall be so lucky as to find, when I do come back, that anybody
has run away with her."
"I trust, Mr. Sawyer," continued John, "you may have no cause to
reprehend yourself for your confidence in your wife's ability to protect
herself and her daughter; and, if we can be of any service to them, I
trust you will make no scruple in commanding us; for we desire to live
on terms of amity with our neighbours, and it is essential to be
mutually obliging at times."
"In course, young fellow; you are a brick, so give me your hand," cried
the head of the Sawyer family, as he started to his feet, "we must have
a nobbler on the strength of that;" saying which he abstracted a bottle
from the breastine recesses of his garments, and handed it to John, who
called to Joey to bring some pannikins and water.
"I must apologize," said he, "for not offering you a glass of grog
myself before this; but, to tell you the truth, we have not got any on
the station, and here we don't usually drink it; but to keep you
company, I don't mind taking a small drop."
The bottle was handed to Mr. Wigton, William, and the women in
succession; the two former of whom declined, and the latter partook;
while the dispenser himself filled out a jorum for his personal
libation, and drank success to himself, and the world generally, in that
comprehensive aphorism which seemed to him to answer for all occasions;
viz., "here's luck." He felt disappointed, however, when, upon a second
presentation of the "homiletical stimulator," he found no one to join
him, and he remarked with an apparent degree of truth:
"Why, I never did see fellers like you refuse good liquor. I can't think
how you can do it; for my part, I'm blow'd if I ever do: it's a sin."
"Don't you think, my good man," said Mr. Wigton, "it's rather a sin to
indulge too freely in its use? If you do not think so, I can assure you
that it is; to say nothing of the moral degradation of the drunkard, the
lavish squandering of your means, and the injury to your health."
"Lor' bless you, sir," replied Sawyer, "I never felt the worse of my
liquor. I might ha' been a bit drunk now and then, but what's the odds
of that? I get all right again in a giffey; I wouldn't give a snuff for
a fellow that couldn't take his grog, and get drunk now and then like
other men. When I was an overseer on the Hunter some years ago, a mate
of mine and me got two gallons of rum up to my hut, to have a spree one
night. One of my fellows, who was an assigned 'un, was a decent cove,
though he never spoke to the other men, 'cos he thought hisself a real
gent. Well I pitied this coon; and seeing him that evening, I asked him
if he'd come up to my hut, and have 'a ball' or two with us; but bless
you, he flew into a pelter, and called us all sorts of names, because,
he said, we wanted to make beasts of ourselves; just as if having a bit
of a spree, was making of beasts of ourselves, and as if we hadn't a
right to drink our own grog. Well, thinks I, you are a chicken; but I
lets him 'ave his own way; and what do you think, sir? He took to
bush-ranging and was hanged. Now, do you think he was better than me,
for not getting drunk that time?"
"In his refusal, he certainly showed an appreciation of right, whatever
his previous or after career may have been," replied Mr. Wigton. "But,
Mr. Sawyer, you must really permit me to impress upon you the absolute
uselessness of drinking to excess; its sinfulness I will be able to
convince you of afterwards. In the outset of your spree, as you call it,
you provide a stock of spirits, which you lay yourself out to drink,
uninterruptedly, until it is finished. After the first hour you become
quite unconscious of everything around you, while you continue to drink
mechanically, without actually knowing you are doing so, and certainly
without your palate experiencing any gratification. So that the greater
portion of the spirits you have drank has been consumed without
affording you any satisfaction; in fact, wasted; and your money thrown
away. Now, consider, what are the effects of this spree? If you are of a
good constitution, and escape _delirium tremens_, are not your
sufferings still very acute? far more so than to be commensurate to the
wild excitement of the debauch? You are sick, your head seems every
moment ready to split; you are for days absolutely wretched and ill; and
not until your constitution works off the ill effects of your
dissipation do you recover your wonted health; whereas, if you had
confined yourself to drinking your grog in moderation, you would have
enjoyed it for a lengthened period, escaped all the unpleasant symptoms
I have mentioned, and not injured your health; so you will perceive
that drunkenness is useless. I am well aware that it is difficult to
convince men such as you, who like their grog, to such a belief; but if
you could only be induced to try abstinence I have no doubt you would
readily agree with me, with regard to its sinfulness."
"Oh, never mind that," cried Sawyer, "I don't want to have no sermon; if
I like to buy grog, and drink it all at once, it don't hurt nobody but
me; and if I choose to do it, why, it is my look out, and don't matter
to anybody else. But come along, old woman," he continued, addressing
his wife, "we must be going down to our camp;" and turning round to
John, he said, "we left our boy down with the dray, and he will be
thinking the time long without us."
"I'll come over to you in the morning," said William, "I may be of some
assistance to you, as I have no doubt you will want to get up a covering
for the females as soon as possible."
"All right, young man, we will be glad to see you," replied Sawyer;
saying which, and uttering a general "good night," that was echoed by
his accompanying helpmate and progeny, he bent his steps towards the
light of his own fire; and was speedily lost in the gloom.
"I could have desired," said Mr. Wigton, as the Sawyers departed, "more
eligible neighbours for you than those people, and should recommend you,
at the outset, not to permit too much familiarity from them; nor to
cultivate a very close degree of acquaintanceship. It is as well to
preserve a good feeling as neighbours; but for Kate's and your own sakes
I would recommend that you let them understand at once, by your manner,
that you do not intend to admit them on an equality. The example they
would set to you all, especially to your sister, I consider highly
reprehensible; and it is better to avoid at once the possibility of
contamination than discard it when once the infection is made palpable."
"I think with you," said John, "that they are by no means desirable
neighbours; and I will certainly follow your advice. I did not like the
appearance of the people from the first; and the offer I made them to
remain here I could not in common civility avoid; however, I am happy
they did not accept it, and only regret that William should have
promised to go over to them."
"Oh," said William, "I only want to learn something of that man's
history. I know his life must have been an eventful one from the few
remarks he made while here. You may believe me, otherwise I have no
desire to devote much of my time to his or his family's society."
"You are quite right William," said Mr. Wigton; "but tell me," said he,
turning to John, "what arrangements have you made for the reception of
your sister? I see you have got a very nice little cottage, but it will
surely take you some time to put things in perfect order for her."
"I expect," said John, "a dray up every day with furniture, and the
necessity utensils for the commencement of our housekeeping. If
anything is amiss we must fall back on William, for he selected them.
When they arrive they shall be put in as good order as possible; I have
engaged a man and his wife, and with the assistance of the latter, I
think Kate will get on swimmingly. She will have very kind neighbours at
Strawberry Hill, who are extremely anxious to keep her with them; and I
am sure will be very attentive to her when she settles herself with us.
So I think, so far, everything appears auspicious; though I would
considerably have preferred having the house ready for her at once.
To-day I came to an open rupture with Rainsfield, and he forbade me his
house for the future; under which circumstance I think it is hardly
right for one member of our family to be partaking of his hospitality."
"I am grieved to hear of your quarrel," remarked Mr. Wigton; "how did it
occur? is it possible to heal the breach?"
"Why, for my own part," said John, "it were easy; but, judging from the
animus displayed by my opponent, I do not think it would be readily
accomplished. Mr. Rainsfield is under the strange hallucination that I
am influencing the blacks in their depredations on him; and when I
called upon him, to put him upon his guard against impending danger, he
attacked me with surprising virulence. I fear the quarrel is
irremediable, and I only now desire to get Kate away; I have got every
thing here comfortably arranged for her, and am only waiting for the
furniture to complete her home."
"I think you are perfectly right," replied the clergyman, "in your
desire to bring your sister under your own roof; though, I have no
doubt, she would desire to remain a short time longer with the kind
ladies whose friendship she has been fortunate enough to secure. But
it is only proper that she should join you when you complete your
arrangements, in which, I think you have certainly shown some judicious
management. I am sure Kate will reward you by settling into a
first-rate little house-wife. She is a good, kind-hearted, affectionate
girl; and, from what I have witnessed, I only think you will be speedily
called upon to part with her; for, you may depend, such a treasure as
she is will soon be discovered, even in this remote spot."
"I expect that will be the result of our training," said John,
laughingly; "but, if our sister's happiness will be furthered by the
severance, I will be truly happy to make the sacrifice; though I don't
think we have much fear of losing her for some time to come. But tell
us, my dear friend, about your own movements. I trust you intend
favouring us with your company for some lengthened period."
"I can remain with you for some little time," replied Mr. Wigton,
"perhaps a fortnight or more; but next month I am expected to be in
Brisbane, and will, therefore, have to leave you in time to reach town
before the middle of next month. I am particularly desirous of having
some interviews with the blacks of your neighbouring tribe, to
endeavour, if possible, to ameliorate their wretched condition; and, if
you have no objection, I will get you to pilot me to their camp."
"With all my heart," said John, "I am quite at your service whenever you
desire to go, and I am sure William will join us too; what do you say,
Will?"
"By all means," replied he, "I'll go over with you, if you like,
to-morrow afternoon, when I return from those people below us. You will
have a good opportunity of speaking to them, Mr. Wigton, as the greater
part of the tribe is assembled in the scrub just now."
After making the best arrangements they could for their visitor in their
limited accommodation, the brothers and their friend retired for the
night; and, on the following forenoon, William mounted his horse and
rode over to the Sawyers' run, to satisfy his curiosity with regard to
the Sawyer paterfamilias.