WEALTH IN THE WILDERNESS.
[Sidenote: A PIANO IN THE DESERT.]
After a peaceful night, the travelers, at seven o'clock in the morning,
resumed their journey eastward over the plains. Twice they crossed the
tracks of squatters, leading towards the north; and then the different
hoof-prints would have been confounded if Glenarvan's horse had not
left upon the dust the Black Point mark, distinguishable by its three
trefoils.
Sometimes the plain was furrowed with winding creeks, bordered by
box-wood, which took their source on the slopes of the Buffalo Range,
a chain of mountains whose picturesque outlines stretched along the
horizon, and which the party resolved to reach that evening. Ayrton
urged on his oxen, and, after a journey of thirty-five miles, they
reached the place. The tent was pitched beneath a great tree. Night had
come, and supper was quickly dispatched; all thought more of sleeping
than of eating, after the fatigues of the day.
Paganel, to whom fell the first watch, did not lie down, but, rifle on
shoulder, guarded the encampment, walking to and fro that he might the
better resist sleep. In spite of the absence of the moon, the night was
almost bright with the splendor of the southern constellations; and the
geographer amused himself in reading the great book of the firmament,
which is always open. The silence of sleeping nature was broken only
by the sound of the horses' chains as they rattled against their feet.
Paganel was becoming fully absorbed in his astronomical meditations,
and occupying himself more with the things of heaven than those of
earth, when a distant sound startled him from his reverie.
He listened attentively, and, to his great astonishment, thought he
distinguished the tones of a piano. A few boldly-struck chords wafted
to his ears their harmonious vibrations. He could not be mistaken.
"A piano in the desert!" said he to himself. "It cannot be!"
It was indeed very surprising, and Paganel began to think that some
strange Australian bird was imitating the sound of the instrument.
[Sidenote: A TWOFOLD SURPRISE.]
But at that moment a voice, harmoniously pitched, was heard. The
pianist was accompanied by a vocalist. The geographer listened
incredulously, but in a few moments was forced to recognize the
sublime air that struck upon his ear. It was "_Il mio tesoro tanto_"
from Don Juan.
[Illustration: Paganel did not lie down, but, rifle on shoulder,
guarded the encampment, walking to and fro that he might the better
resist sleep.]
"Parbleu!" thought the geographer, "however strange the Australian
birds may be, or even though the parrots were the most musical in the
world, they could not sing Mozart."
He listened to the end of this grand inspiration of the master. The
effect of this sweet melody, in the stillness of the starlit night,
was indescribable. He remained a long time under the influences of its
enchantment. At last the voice ceased, and all was silent.
When Wilson came to relieve the geographer, he found him wrapt in a
profound reverie. Paganel said nothing to the sailor, but, reserving
his account of the incident for Glenarvan the next day, he crept into
the tent.
In the morning the whole party were awakened by unexpected bayings.
Glenarvan at once arose. Two magnificent pointers were gamboling along
the edge of a small wood; but at the approach of the travelers they
disappeared among the trees, barking loudly.
"There must be a station in this desert," said Glenarvan, "and hunters,
since those are hunting-dogs."
Paganel was just about to relate his experiences of the past night,
when two men appeared, in hunting costume, mounted on fine horses. They
naturally stopped at sight of the little party, encamped in gypsy-like
fashion, and seemed to be wondering what the presence of armed men in
this place meant, when they perceived the ladies, who were alighting
from the cart.
They immediately dismounted, and advanced towards them, hat in hand.
Glenarvan went to meet them, and introduced himself and party, giving
the name and rank of each member. The young men bowed, and one of them,
the elder, said:
"My lord, will your ladies, your companions, and yourself do us the
honor to accompany us to our house?"
"May I ask, gentlemen, whom I have the honor of addressing?" inquired
Glenarvan.
"Michael and Alexander Patterson, proprietors of Hottam Station. You
are already on the grounds of the establishment, and have but a quarter
of a mile to go."
"Gentlemen," replied Glenarvan, "I should be unwilling to slight a
hospitality so graciously offered----"
"My lord," interrupted Michael Patterson, "by accepting you will confer
a favor upon two poor colonists, who will be only too happy to extend
to you the honors of the desert."
Glenarvan bowed in token of assent.
"Sir," said Paganel, addressing Michael Patterson, "should I be too
inquisitive were I to ask if it was you who sang that divine air of
Mozart last night?"
"It was I, sir," replied the gentleman; "and my brother accompanied me."
"Well, sir," continued Paganel, extending his hand, "accept the sincere
compliments of a Frenchman, who is an ardent admirer of Mozart's music."
The young man modestly returned the geographer's greeting, and then
pointed towards the right to the road they were to take. The horses had
been confided to the care of Ayrton and the sailors, and the travelers
at once betook themselves on foot to Hottam Station, under the guidance
of the two young men.
It was a magnificent establishment, characterized by the perfect order
of an English park. Immense meadows, inclosed by fences, extended as
far as the eye could reach. Here grazed thousands of oxen and sheep.
Numerous shepherds and still more numerous dogs tended this vast herd,
while with the bellowing and bleating mingled the baying of mastiffs
and the sharp crack of stock-whips.
[Sidenote: ARTIFICIAL SELECTION.]
To the east the prospect was broken by a border of gum-trees, beyond
which rose the imposing peak of Mount Hottam, seven thousand five
hundred feet high. Long avenues of tall trees stretched in all
directions, while here and there stood dense clumps of grass-trees,
shrubby plants about ten feet high, resembling the dwarf palm, with a
thick foliage of long narrow leaves. The air was laden with the perfume
of laurels, whose clusters of white flowers in full bloom exhaled the
most delicate fragrance.
With the charming groups of native trees were mingled those
transplanted from European climes. The peach, the pear, the apple,
the fig, the orange, and even the oak were hailed with delight by the
travelers, who, if they were not astonished at walking in the shade of
the trees of their country, wondered, at least, at the sight of the
birds that fluttered among the branches, the satin-birds with their
silky plumage, and the canaries, clad in golden and black velvet.
Here, for the first time, they saw the menure, or lyre-bird, whose tail
has the form of the graceful instrument of Orpheus. As the bird fled
away among the arborescent ferns, its tail striking the branches, they
almost expected to hear those harmonious chords that helped Amphion to
rebuild the walls of Thebes.
Lord Glenarvan was not satisfied with merely admiring the fairy
wonders of this oasis of the Australian desert. He listened with
profound interest to the young men's story. In England, in the heart
of civilization, a new-comer would have first informed his host
whence he came and whither he was going; but here, by a nice shade
of distinction, Michael and Sandy Patterson thought they should
make themselves known to the travelers to whom they offered their
hospitalities, and briefly told their story.
[Illustration: Here, for the first time, they saw the menure, or
lyre-bird, whose tail has the form of the graceful instrument of
Orpheus.]
[Sidenote: NATURE AND ART.]
It was like that of all intelligent and active young Englishmen,
who do not believe that the possession of riches absolves from the
responsibility to labor for the welfare of others. Michael and
Alexander Patterson were the sons of a London banker. When they were
twenty years old, their father had said: "Here is money, my sons. Go
to some distant land, found there a useful establishment, and acquire
in labor the knowledge of life. If you succeed, so much the better; if
you fail, it matters little. We shall not regret the money that will
have enabled you to become men." They obeyed; they chose the province
of Victoria as the place to sow the paternal bank-notes, and had no
reason to repent. At the end of three years their establishment had
attained its present prosperity.
They had just finished the brief account of their career, when the
dwelling came in sight at the end of a fine avenue of trees. It was a
charming house of wood and brick, surrounded by clusters of plants, and
had the elegant form of a Swiss cottage, while a veranda, from which
hung Chinese lanterns, encircled it like a Roman impluvium. The windows
were shaded by brilliant-colored awnings, which at a distance looked
almost like masses of flowers. Nothing could be prettier, cozier, or
pleasanter to the sight. On the lawn and among the shrubbery round
about stood bronze candelabra, supporting elegant lamps with glass
globes, which at nightfall illumined the whole garden with a beauteous
light.
No farm-hands, stables, or outhouses were to be seen,--nothing that
indicated scenes of toil. The dwellings of the workmen--a regular
village, consisting of some twenty cottages--were a quarter of a mile
distant, in the heart of a little valley. Telegraph-wires secured
immediate communication between the village and the house of the
proprietors, which, far from all tumult, was in truth "a thing of
beauty."
The avenue was soon passed. A little iron bridge, of great elegance,
crossing a murmuring stream, gave access to the private grounds. A
courteous attendant advanced to meet the travelers; the doors of
the house were opened, and the guests of Hottam Station entered the
sumptuous dwelling.
All the luxuries of refined and civilized life seemed to be present.
Into the vestibule, which was adorned with decorative subjects,
illustrating the turf or the chase, opened a spacious parlor, lighted
with five windows. A piano, covered with classic and modern music;
easels, upon which were half-finished paintings; marble statues,
mounted on tasteful pedestals; on the walls, a few pictures by Flemish
masters; rich carpets, soft to the feet as grassy meadows; panels of
tapestry, descriptive of pleasing mythological episodes; an antique
chandelier, costly chinaware, delicate vases, and a great variety
of articles of _virtù_, indicated a high appreciation of beauty and
comfort. Everything that could please, everything that could relieve
the tedium of a voluntary exile, everything that could remind one of a
luxurious European home, was to be found in this fairy abode. It would
have been easy to imagine oneself in some princely castle of England,
France, or Germany.
The five windows admitted, through delicate curtains, a light tempered
and softened by the shadows of the veranda. Lady Helena looked out,
and was astonished. The house, upon this side, commanded the view of a
broad valley, which extended to the eastern mountains. The alternation
of meadow and woodland, broken here and there by vast clearings, the
graceful sweep of the hill-sides, and the outlines of the entire
landscape, formed a picture beyond the power of description. This vast
panorama, intersected by broad bands of light and shade, changed every
hour with the progress of the sun.
In the mean time, in accordance with the hosts' orders, breakfast
had been prepared by the steward of the station, and in less than a
quarter of an hour the travelers were seated at a bountiful table. The
quality of the viands and the wines was unexceptionable; but what was
especially gratifying, in the midst of these refinements of wealth, was
the evident pleasure experienced by the young settlers in dispensing to
strangers, beneath their own roof, this magnificent hospitality.
[Sidenote: AUSTRALIANS, NATIVE AND IMPORTED.]
The young gentlemen were soon made acquainted with the object of the
expedition, and took a lively interest in Glenarvan's search, giving
also great encouragement to the captain's children.
"Harry Grant," said Michael, "has evidently fallen into the hands of
the natives, since he has not appeared in the settlements on the coast.
He knew his position exactly, as the document proves, and, as he has
not reached any English colony, he must have been made prisoner by the
natives as soon as he landed."
"That is precisely what happened to his quartermaster, Ayrton," replied
Captain Mangles.
"But, gentlemen," inquired Lady Helena, "have you never heard of the
shipwreck of the Britannia?"
"Never, madam," said Michael.
"And what treatment do you think Captain Grant would experience as a
prisoner among the Australians?"
"The Australians are not cruel, madam," replied the young settler:
"Miss Grant may reassure herself on this point. There are many
instances of their kindness; and some Europeans have lived a long time
among them, without having any reason to complain of brutality." These
words corroborated the information previously given by Paganel and
Ayrton.
When the ladies had left the table, the conversation turned upon
convicts. The settlers had heard of the accident at Camden Bridge,
but the band of runaways gave no uneasiness, they would not dare to
attack a station that was guarded by more than a hundred men. They were
confident, too, that they would not venture into the deserted regions
of the Murray, nor into the colonies of New South Wales, where the
roads are well protected.
[Sidenote: A DAY'S SPORT.]
Glenarvan could not decline the invitation of his amiable hosts to
spend the entire day at Hottam Station. The delay thus occasioned
could be turned to good account: the horses and oxen would be
greatly benefited by their rest in the comfortable stables of the
establishment. It was, therefore, decided to remain, and the two young
men submitted to their guests a programme for the day's sports, which
was adopted with alacrity.
[Illustration: It was a charming house of wood and brick, surrounded by
clusters of plants, and had the elegant form of a Swiss cottage.]
At noon, seven fine hunters pawed the ground at the gate of the
house. For the ladies was provided an elegant coach, and the long
reins enabled their driver to show his skill in manoeuvring the
"four-in-hand." The horsemen, accompanied by outriders, and well armed,
galloped beside the carriage, while the pack of hounds bayed joyously
in the coppices.
For four hours the cavalcade traversed the paths and avenues of these
spacious grounds. As for game, an army of bushmen could not have
started up a greater number of animals. Young Robert, who kept close to
the major's side, accomplished wonders. The intrepid boy, in spite of
his sister's injunctions, was always ahead, and the first to fire. But
Captain Mangles had promised to watch over him, a fact which tended not
a little to allay Miss Grant's apprehension for her brother's safety.
Of all the sports of the day the most interesting was unquestionably
a kangaroo hunt. About four o'clock the dogs started a troop of these
curious animals. The little ones took refuge in their mothers' pouches,
and the whole drove rushed away in single file. Nothing can be more
astonishing than the enormous bounds of the kangaroo, whose hind legs
are twice as long as its fore ones, and bend like a spring. At the head
of the drove was a male five feet high,--"an old man," in the language
of the bushmen.
For four or five miles the chase was briskly continued. The kangaroos
did not slacken their pace; and the dogs, who feared, with good reason,
the powerful blows of their formidable paws, did not venture to
approach them. But at last the drove stopped in exhaustion, and "the
old man" braced himself against the trunk of a tree, ready to fight
for his life. One of the pointers, carried on by the impetus of his
course, rolled within reach of him. A moment after, the unfortunate
dog was tossed into the air, and fell back lifeless. The entire pack,
deterred by the fate of their comrade, kept at a respectful distance.
It became necessary to dispatch the kangaroo with the rifle, and
nothing but bullets could bring down the gigantic quadruped.
At this juncture Robert narrowly escaped being the victim of his
rashness. In order to make sure of his aim, he approached so near the
kangaroo that the animal made a spring at him. Robert fell. A cry of
alarm resounded. Mary Grant, speechless with apprehension, stretched
her hands towards her brother. No one dared to fire, for fear of
hitting the boy.
Suddenly Captain Mangles, with his hunting-knife open, rushed upon the
kangaroo, at the risk of his life, and stabbed it to the heart. The
beast fell dead, and Robert rose unharmed. An instant after, he was in
the arms of his sister.
"Thanks, Captain Mangles! thanks!" said Mary, extending her hand to the
young captain.
"I promised to take care of him," replied the captain, as he took the
trembling hand of the young girl.
This adventure ended the hunt. The troop of kangaroos had scattered
after the death of their leader, whose carcass was brought to the house.
It was now six o'clock, and dinner was in readiness for the hunters;
comprising, among other dishes, a soup of kangaroo's tail, prepared in
the native style.
After a dessert of ices and sherbet, the party repaired to the parlor,
where the evening was devoted to music. Lady Helena, who was a good
pianiste, presided at the instrument, while Michael and Alexander
Patterson sang with great taste selections from the latest compositions
of the modern musical masters.
[Sidenote: A FRESH DEPARTURE.]
At eleven o'clock tea was served in true English style. Paganel
having desired to taste the Australian tea, a liquid, black as ink,
was brought to him. It consisted of a quart of water, in which half
a pound of tea had been boiled four hours. Paganel, with a wry face,
pronounced it excellent. At midnight the guests were conducted to cool
and comfortable chambers, where they renewed in dreams the pleasures of
the day.
The next morning, at sunrise, they took leave of the two young
settlers, with many thanks, and with warmly-expressed hopes to see them
at Malcolm Castle at no very distant day. The cart then started, and in
a few minutes, as the road wound around the foot of Mount Hottam, the
hospitable habitation disappeared, like a passing vision, from the eyes
of the travelers. For five miles farther they traversed the grounds
of the station, and not till nine o'clock did the little party pass
the last palisade and enter upon the almost unknown districts of the
country before them.