JOHN GILPIN IN THE BUSH.
THE crowning adventure of my tour in Australia came about in the
following manner. I was advertised to conduct Services at Narracoort on
Sabbath, and at a Station on the way on Saturday evening. But how to get
from Penola was a terrible perplexity. On Saturday morning, however, a
young lady offered me, out of gratitude for blessings received, the use
of her riding horse for the journey. "Garibaldi" was his name; and,
though bred for a race-horse, I was assured that if I kept him firmly in
hand, he would easily carry me over the two-and-twenty miles. He was to
be left at the journey's end, and the lady herself would fetch him back.
I shrank from the undertaking, knowing little of horses, and having
vague recollections of being dreadfully punished for more than a week
after my last and almost only ride. But every one in that country is
quite at ease on the back of a horse. They saw no risk; and, as there
appeared no other way of getting there to fulfil my engagements, I, for
my part, began to think that God had unexpectedly provided the means,
and that He would carry me safely through.
I accepted the lady's kind offer, and started on my pilgrimage. A friend
showed me the road, and gave me ample directions. In the bush, I was to
keep my eye on the notches in the trees, and follow them. He agreed
kindly to bring my luggage to the Station, and leave it there for me by
and by. After I had walked very quietly for some distance, three
gentlemen on horseback overtook me. We entered into conversation. They
inquired how far I was going, and advised me to sit a little "freer" in
the saddle, as it would be so much easier for me. They seemed greatly
amused at my awkward riding! Dark clouds were now gathering ahead, and
the atmosphere prophesied a severe storm; therefore they urged that I
should ride a little faster, as they, for a considerable distance, could
guide me on the right way. I explained to them my plight through
inexperience, said that I could only creep on slowly with safety, and
bade them Good-by. As the sky was getting darker every minute, they
consented, wishing me a safe journey, and started off at a smart pace.
I struggled to hold in my horse; but seizing the bit with his teeth,
laying back his ears, and stretching out his eager neck, he manifestly
felt that his honor was at stake; and in less time than I take to write
it, the three friends cleared a way for us, and he tore past them all at
an appalling speed. They tried for a time to keep within reach of us,
but that sound only put fire into his blood; and in an incredibly short
time I heard them not; nor, from the moment that he bore me swinging
past them, durst I turn my head by one inch to look for them again. In
vain I tried to hold him in; he tore on, with what appeared to me the
speed of the wind. Then the thunderstorm broke around us, with flash of
lightning and flood of rain, and at every fresh peal my "Garibaldi"
dashed more wildly onward.
To me, it was a vast surprise to discover that I could sit more easily
on this wild flying thing than when at a canter or a trot. At every turn
I expected that he would dash himself and me against the great forest
trees; but instinct rather than my hand guided him miraculously.
Sometimes I had a glimpse of the road, but as for the "notches," I never
saw one of them; we passed them with lightning speed. Indeed, I durst
not lift my eyes for one moment from watching the horse's head and the
trees on our track. My high-crowned hat was now drenched, and battered
out of shape; for whenever we came to a rather clear space, I seized the
chance and gave it another knock down over my head. I was spattered and
covered with mud and mire.
Crash, crash, went the thunder, and on, on, went "Garibaldi" through the
gloom of the forest, emerging at length upon a clearer ground with a
more visible pathway. Reaching the top of the slope, a large house stood
out far in front of us to the left; and the horse had apparently
determined to make straight for that, as if it were his home. He skirted
along the hill, and took the track as his own familiar ground, all my
effort to hold him in or guide him having no more effect than that of a
child. By this time, I suspect, I really had lost all power. "Garibaldi"
had been at that house, probably frequently before; he knew those
stables; and my fate seemed to be instant death against door or wall.
Some members of the family, on the outlook for the Missionary, saw us
come tearing along as if mad or drunk; and now all rushed to the
veranda, expecting some dread catastrophe. A tall and stout young groom,
amazed at our wild career, throwing wide open the gate, seized the
bridle at great risk to himself, and ran full speed, yet holding back
with all his might, and shouting to me to do the same. We
succeeded--"Garibaldi" having probably attained his purpose--in bringing
him to a halt within a few paces of the door. Staring at me with open
mouth, the man exclaimed, "I have saved your life. What madness to ride
like that!" Thanking him, though I could scarcely by this time
articulate a word, I told him that the horse had run away, and that I
had lost all control.
Truly I was in a sorry plight, drenched, covered with mud, and my hat
battered down over my eyes; little wonder they thought me drunk or mad!
Finally, as if to confirm every suspicion, and amuse them all,--for
master, mistress, governess, and children now looked on from the
veranda,--when I was helped off the horse, I could not stand on my feet!
My head still went rushing on in the race; I staggered, and down I
tumbled into the mud, feeling chagrin and mortification; yet there I had
to sit for some time, before I recovered myself, so as either to rise or
to speak a word. When I did get to my feet, I had to stand holding by
the veranda for some time, my head still rushing on in the race. At
length the master said, "Will you not come in?"
I knew that he was treating me for a drunken man; and the giddiness was
so dreadful still, that my attempts at speech seemed more drunken than
even my gait.
As soon as I could stand, I went into the house, and drew near to an
excellent fire in my dripping clothes. The squatter sat opposite me in
silence, reading the newspapers, and taking a look at me now and again
over his spectacles. By and by he remarked, "Wouldn't it be worth while
to change your clothes?"
Speech was now returning to me. I replied, "Yes, but my bag is coming on
in the cart, and may not be here to-night."
He began to relent. He took me into a room, and laid out for me a suit
of his own. I being then very slender, and he a big-framed farmer, my
new dress, though greatly adding to my comfort, enhanced the singularity
of my appearance!
Returning to him, washed and dressed, I inquired if he had arranged for
a meeting? My tongue, I fear, was still unsteady, for the squatter
looked at me rather reproachfully, and said, "Do you really consider
yourself fit to appear before a meeting to-night?"
I assured him he was quite wrong in his suspicions, that I was a
life-long Abstainer, and that my nerves had been so unhinged by the
terrible ride and runaway horse. He smiled rather suggestively, and said
we would see how I felt after tea.
We went to the table. All that had occurred was now consummated by my
appearing in the lusty farmer's clothes; and the lady and other friends
had infinite difficulty in keeping their amusement within decent bounds.
I again took speech in hand, but I suspect my words had still the
thickness of the tippler's utterance, for they seemed not to carry much
conviction, "Dear friends, I quite understand your feelings; appearances
are so strangely against me. But I am not drunken, as ye suppose. I have
tasted no intoxicating drink, I am a life-long Total Abstainer!"
This fairly broke down their reserve. They laughed aloud, looking at
each other and at me, as if to say, "Man, you're drunk at this very
moment."
Before tea was over they appeared, however, to begin to entertain the
idea that I _might_ address the meeting; and so I was informed of the
arrangements that had been made. At the meeting, my incredulous friends
became very deeply interested. Manifestly their better thoughts were
gaining the ascendency. And they heaped thereafter every kindness upon
me, as if to make amends for harder suspicions.
Next morning the master drove me about ten miles farther on to the
Church. A groom rode the racehorse, who took no scathe from his
thundering gallop of the day before. It left deeper traces upon me. I
got through the Services, however, and with good returns for the
Mission. Twice since, on my Mission tours, I have found myself at that
same memorable house; and on each occasion, a large company of friends
were regaled by the good lady there with very comical descriptions of my
first arrival at her door.