Struggle between blacks and whites—116° F. heat—Cool
nights—Troubles—Bush-life—How the bushman spends his
money—Inundations—Back again to Gracemere—A greedy snake—Courtship
in the bush.
[Illustration:
STOCK-MAN’S WHIP.
]
After staying eight days at the barracks, I felt so well that I was able
to ride back to Elderslie. But on the way I became ill again, and
repeatedly had to dismount from my horse and lie down on the ground to
rest.
It was my original intention to go farther west and nearer the Gulf of
Carpentaria, but my miserable condition made it impossible for me to
proceed. I did not see how I was to get back to the coast, for I grew
worse and worse every day. After being ill for about a month, I was at
length able to start on my way back. I now laid my route _viâ_
Bledensbourne, chiefly for the purpose of getting possession of a large,
white, fruit-eating bat, but I did not succeed, although I searched
several caves which these animals were said to frequent. The large
lizards, commonly called iguana, here attain so great a size that they
possibly may be a new species.
In the vicinity of Bledensbourne I was shown a large number of skulls of
natives who had been shot by the black police in the following
circumstances:—A couple of teams with provisions for the far west,
conducted by two white men, had encamped near the blacks. The latter
were lying in ambush, and meant to make an assault, as two black women
had been ravished by the white men. Instead of defending themselves with
their weapons, the white men were cowardly enough to take flight,
leaving all their provisions, oxen, tent, and all their other things in
the hands of the blacks. The fugitives reported to the police that they
had been attacked, and so the “criminals” a few weeks afterwards were
pursued far into a narrow valley and shot. I visited the spot in company
with the manager of Bledensbourne station, and saw seven or eight of the
skulls. According to the statement made by several persons, nearly the
whole tribe was killed, as there was no opportunity of flight.
This is one of the many cruelties perpetrated by the native police
against the natives, and the most thrilling stories could be told of
their conduct. Their cruelties constitute the black page in the annals
of Australian colonisation. This police force has become more and more
unpopular, and voices have been raised for its entire abolition. The
police inspector often left it to his men to do the murdering, “to
disperse the blacks,” as it is called, at their own risk. He thus
shirked the responsibility and retained his post; for he does not dare
kill the blacks openly, at least not at the present time.
It is not strange that such an institution is hated by the blacks, or
that they take every opportunity of revenge. During my sojourn here an
inspector was killed by a spear hurled by the blacks, while he was
treating with the savages, and a year later they killed another
inspector in his own camp at night.
[Illustration:
REST UNDER A BOTTLE-TREE (_Sterculia_).
]
The summer heat had now set in, as it was already late in November. The
sun was at its zenith, and poured down its scorching rays day by day,
unrelieved by a cooling breath of air or by any refreshing lake or
prattling brook—only mocking _fata morgana_. There was no animal life to
be seen; all living things sought refuge from the burning heat of the
sun. 104° to 105° F. in the shade was the average heat. The highest
temperature I observed was 116° F., and the heat was then so great that
it seemed oppressive even to sit still. The wind that blew was as hot as
if it came from an oven, and the thermometer rose and fell with the
wind. Still, the climate was more tolerable here than on the banks of
the Diamantina river, where the thermometer rose to 126° F. in three
consecutive days, a perfectly exceptional heat, even in tropical
Australia. The trees which are to be found furnish but little protection
against the beams of the sun, for their foliage generally hangs
vertically from the branches, and consequently gives but little shade.
When I rested at noon, I could find shade nowhere except under the
horse. As a rule I do not suffer from heat, and am able to ride all day
long beneath the perpendicular rays of the sun; but at this time I was
weak from my illness, and the hot weather was too much for me. Many
times in a day I had to lie down in the burning rays of the sun and rest
my weary limbs.
The coolness of the night, however, makes the people in general feel
comfortable. As soon as the sun sets the air is cooled, as it is not
moist enough to retain much of the heat. The thermometer would sink 40°
F., so that I needed a woollen blanket to keep myself warm during the
night. To my other troubles was added the annoyance of the flies, which
at some stations were so bad that it was necessary to eat under
mosquito-nets. These nuisances are especially troublesome to the eyes,
which when bitten by the flies first smart and then swell up, so that
they sometimes cannot be opened for several hours. To keep the flies
away from the eyes, we wore nets over our faces, and even the horses
were protected in this manner.
“Life in Western Queensland during the summer is simply a struggle with
the flies”; “When I am about to sign a draft, I must have a man to fan
the flies away and watch the inkstand,” are expressions which I still
remember to have heard in that country.
The specimens I had collected were kept in a number of pasteboard boxes,
which had to be loaded and unloaded every morning and evening. I had to
dismount many times a day to straighten them, for they soon became
disordered, and galled the back of the horse by not being evenly
balanced. Once I nearly lost all, as my active pack-horse got loose and
galloped away, kicking up all sorts of pranks and nearly getting the
whole load under his belly. Gradually my horses became so lean and poor
from the long journey that I scarcely believed they would live till I
reached my destination. In spite of every care taken, the back of my
pack-horse became galled, and this was another reason why I had to
travel slowly.
Both at Winton and at Thompson I found an old acquaintance from Europe,
the greenshank (_Totanus glottis_), but both times I saw but one bird,
and it was exceedingly shy. Animal life awakes and makes its appearance
only about sunset, and is observed chiefly near the water-holes. There
are many varieties of birds, but as a rule there are but few of each
kind; generally they are scattered over a large territory, though some
of them are strangely confined to a very limited territory. The
cockatoos and hawks are comparatively numerous, and the kites and the
beautiful black falcons (_Falco subniger_) are particularly noticeable.
After many difficulties I finally came to a hut, in which there lived a
boundary-rider. I now began to approach more densely-populated regions,
and the next day I arrived tired, with my exhausted horses, at Isis
Downs station, where I for several days enjoyed much-needed rest and
obtained milk, which is a great rarity in Western Queensland.
Christmas Eve I returned to Minnie Downs in terribly hot weather. It was
so hot that even under cover at the station we had to seek relief in wet
towels wound about the head. In such weather, when the air seems to
vibrate, we shrink from going out, just as much as we do at home in
Norway when it is bitterly cold. As a rule people in Australia pay no
attention to the heat. The work goes on regularly at the station, and
singularly enough, the heat is felt much less out of doors when one is
hard at work than when sitting still doing nothing in the house. Those
who drink to excess are most troubled by it. In Rockhampton, for
instance, nine drunkards died in one week. But, with all this, the
climate of Queensland is healthier than that of any other country in the
same degree of latitude. It is not necessary here, as in many other
tropical lands, to send the children to colder climes to be reared. They
grow strong, and are the pictures of health. Of course there is fever,
but almost exclusively in new-settled districts, where the soil is yet
uncultivated. Though sometimes fatal, it is generally of a far milder
type here than in other tropical lands. A man who had lived for two
years in a fever locality without perceiving any symptoms of the
disease, had his first attack after taking cold. As the soil gradually
becomes cultivated, the fever disappears.
Another illness which troubles the colonists is sandy blight, a very
severe disease of the eye, which sometimes ends in blindness. In Western
Queensland people are also subject to bad sores on the hand, called
_Barcoo-rot_; a traveller will be struck by the fact that nearly
everybody wears a bandage about his hands, because the most
insignificant scratch develops into a large sore which may last for
months. _Beliander_ is also a common disease in Queensland; without the
slightest apparent cause, a person is suddenly seized with vomiting, but
is relieved just as suddenly. These diseases doubtless have their origin
in the climatic conditions, and the colonists have therefore acquired
the habit of blaming the climate whenever they are ill.
[Illustration:
BUSHMEN.
]
It cannot but surprise us how people keep in tolerably good health who
take as little care of themselves as the bushman does. He gets up before
sunrise, eats, saddles his horse and rides to his work. As a rule, he is
out all day until sunset. He sleeps in rainy weather under the open sky;
he eats whenever it happens to be convenient, if he has the time—if not
he waits until he finds time; he lives on salt beef and damper every
day; he drinks muddy water or alcohol: such is the bushman’s mode of
life.
Externally there is no difference between the squatter and his workmen.
All are dressed alike, and do the same work; no kind of work is
dishonourable. I have seen young gentlemen beneath a scorching sun do
work that the common labourer in Norway would regard as below his
dignity. The long, short-handled whip, which the bushman uses for horses
and cattle, is his chief implement, and this he handles with great
dexterity.
[Illustration:
A SQUATTER’S HOMESTEAD.
]
When the day’s work is done, the squatter retires in the evening to the
main building, where he usually takes a bath previous to his dinner,
which is of a solid kind, frequently with vegetables, but without much
variety. At the same time the working man goes to his more modest hut,
where he drinks his tea with damper and salt beef. Jams are not uncommon
as articles of luxury, and are eaten with the bread.
Women are but seldom seen at the stations. The squatter is usually a
married man, at least in the most civilised districts, but the hands
rarely have wives. Hence the women who venture into this far west
country soon find their fortunes, for in Queensland there are 142 men to
every 100 women.
During my stay at Winton I had an opportunity of observing how quickly
the chains of matrimony are forged in Western Queensland. An Irish girl
who had recently arrived was standing over the wash-tub, and soon
attracted the attention of a bushman. He entered into conversation with
her, and after half an hour they agreed to get married; she wiped the
soap off her arms, and so both proceeded without making any further
toilet to the magistrate to have the ceremony performed.
In the long run the station life becomes very monotonous. The squatter
therefore makes a trip to Melbourne, to Sydney, or even to Europe, while
the labourer amuses himself as best he can where he is. Twice a year
races are got up. The men are very fond of horses, and they take a deep
interest in the races in the cities, betting heavily on the different
events. Newspapers, which are extensively read everywhere in Australia,
also find their way to the bush, as the Government provides for the
carrying of mails to nearly every station.
The bushman has but few wants, and consequently saves nearly all his
wages; but after a year or two he naturally feels the need of change,
and so goes to the squatter to ask for a cheque—for ready money is not
used in the bush. It frequently amounts to £100, and then he makes up
his mind to have some sport. He takes his horses, rides off, dismounts
in the first little village and “has a good time”—that is to say, he
drinks every kind of liquor that is to be had. He hands his cheque or
draft to his host, and from this time forward he lives in a perpetual
state of intoxication as long as he has a penny left, and all who
approach him drink his health at his expense—live and let live! Nervous
and prostrated, he finally comes back to the bush, works a year or two
more, and again returns to the village as a man of means to repeat the
old story. The liquors he consumes are of course manufactured according
to the receipt of the keeper of the dram-shop; they are poor and
adulterated—simple poison. This shameful business is chiefly carried on
on the borders of civilisation, and there are many stories about
dram-shop keepers who have accumulated fortunes by vending this awful
stuff. A few years ago there was a terrible report about such a
liquor-dealer in Isisford. He had a special burial-place for all those
who were not strong enough to survive his treatment.
Towards the end of January 1882 I bade farewell to Western Queensland,
and left Minnie Downs. From Tambo I travelled for a time in the coach of
the well-known stage company, Cobb and Co., but as there was no place
for my dog, I had to walk the last twenty-seven miles before I reached
the railroad station, and from there I had a long day’s journey by rail
to Rockhampton. During the last fourteen days the heat was very
oppressive; black clouds gathered in the rainy season; and I reached
Gracemere just in the right time, for the following day the rain began
to pour down in the greater part of Central Queensland, and it rained so
violently that large districts were flooded. A mail-carrier from Aramac
had to stay for three days in a tree to escape the flood. These terrible
inundations are thought to be periodical. Mr. C. Russel tries to show
that they occur every nineteenth year in the Darling river district.
It seemed refreshing to be once more in a moist coast climate. The
results of my journey did not correspond to my exertions, although I had
found some very interesting objects. Amid many privations I had
traversed 1700 miles, and was now merely gathering strength for a
journey to Northern Queensland.
Before I leave Gracemere I must relate a snake story connected with it.
One forenoon I was asked to come down to the garden to kill a snake. As
I approached the place I was greatly astonished to find the reptile
hanging dead down a stone wall. At the same time I noticed the head of
another snake concealed farther up the wall, which had seized the dead
serpent by the middle, so that the head and tail of the latter touched
the ground. As it was difficult for the victor to swallow his prey in
the above-described position, he dropped it to the ground and crept down
after it. Meanwhile I had stepped back, and from my place of concealment
I could now watch and see what it was going to do. They were both of
about the same size. The serpent laid itself conveniently opposite its
victim, and began to swallow it. Its jaws were opened wide, wild with
desire; the head of the dead serpent disappeared past its greedy teeth,
and the rest of it soon slipped down.
I allowed it to swallow about one-third of the dead serpent; then I
stepped forward and gave it a blow across the back. It now tried with
all its might to get rid of its prey, but the head stuck fast in its
throat, and it soon had to succumb to my blows. In this condition they
were put in spirits, as they could not be separated except by force. The
greedy animal was a brown snake (_Hoplocephalus_), one of the most
venomous in Australia. Its prey was a harmless kind, the so-called brown
tree-snake (_Dipsas fusca_). The venomous one measured 4 feet 2 inches,
and the other 4 feet 7 inches.
Snakes were numerous in this vicinity, as everywhere in Australia. At
Waverley station, not far from Gracemere, one man in two days killed
203. The country was flat, and stood under water in the rainy season.
The snakes found their way up to his hut, which was situated on high
ground, so that he could do nothing for two days but defend himself, as
they literally besieged his house.