"How gaily is at first begun
Our life's uncertain race!
Whilst yet that sprightly morning sun,
With which we just set out to run,
Enlightens all the place."
COUNTESS OF WINCHELSEA.
When William Ferguson received his brother's letter, he immediately
collected the draft of sheep with which they were to commence their
station, and started with them for Fern Vale, in company with Joey and
two shepherds. The route he intended to adopt, in his migration, was
somewhat the same as that taken by his brother and himself on their
first journey to Brompton. He was induced to make choice of this,
partly to enable him to renew the acquaintance of Mr. Dawson; but
principally on account of its leading him through a part of the country
little frequented, by which he would be enabled to prosecute his journey
with less chance of molestation. He therefore communicated his intention
to Mr. Dawson by post, which (though taking a more circuitous route than
he) would reach Barra Warra long before he made his appearance with his
flock. With a large number of sheep in charge, the travelling was
necessarily slow and tedious; and some time had been consumed ere the
young man approached the station of his acquaintance. No circumstance
worth recording had marked the passage thus far; all things seemed
propitious; and as William left his sheep in the charge of his
employees, encamped within sight of Barra Warra, he felt certain of a
successful termination to his journey.
Upon reaching the house of Mr. Dawson, he was disappointed to find that
gentleman from home (having been suddenly called away to town on
business); though he left word with his good lady, to express his
regrets at the circumstance that prevented his having the pleasure of
meeting his young friend, and his hope that William would make Barra
Warra his resting-place as long as he could conveniently do so. Mrs.
Dawson expressed her happiness to see him, and also pressed her
husband's invitation; while the children, who speedily remembered him,
uttered their welcomes in tones of joyous gratulation.
William thanked the kind-hearted lady, and accepted the invitation with
pleasure; though the visit, he said, would necessarily be short, as he
required to urge on the sheep, and he did not like resigning the
responsibility to either of the men. He was sorry, he said, that his
visits hitherto had been such flying ones; but promised to make amends
at an early opportunity, when he anticipated he would be under the
necessity of craving the hospitality of Barra Warra for his sister; who
purposed joining her brothers when their station was made a little
comfortable. The bare proposition quite delighted Mrs. Dawson, who was
warm in her expressions of approval; and said she would be charmed to
make the acquaintance of Miss Ferguson, and hoped she would have more
sociability than her brothers, and not require so much pressing to
induce a visit from her.
William assured his friend, that his sister would reciprocate the
delight; for she had already, he said, expressed a desire to know Mrs.
Dawson, from simply hearing him mention her name.
We need not trace the conversation through all its minutiae, nor delay
our narrative by detailing the further progress of William Ferguson; but
simply mention, that on the following morning he proceeded on his
journey, while we turn to view the movements of his brother.
In the meantime, John had got all his buildings so far completed, as to
have them ready for the settlement of the station as soon as the flocks
and the drays with the supplies should have arrived. It was not his
intention to build the house until they settled themselves, and got some
little leisure after shearing time; and, until then, he proposed living
with his brother in one of the huts erected for the men. He now looked
anxiously for the drays; and as the weather had been fine since they
started, and they had been a good time on the road, he believed they
could not be far distant; especially as he had received intimation from
Mr. Smithers that a man had arrived at Brompton, who had passed them the
day before he reached that station. He therefore thought it advisable to
leave the carpenters at work on a few odds and ends that still required
doing, and proceed along the road to meet the drays, and hurry them on
to their destination. He did so; and some few miles past Strawberry Hill
he descried the lumbering vehicles jogging on at their (or rather the
bullocks') leisure; and he turned with them, in company, until they
reached the crossing-place of the Wombi. The appearance of this spot did
not, by any means, favourably prepossess the minds of the
bullock-drivers: the banks were of black alluvial soil, and had a steep
descent to the water; which, though reduced to its ordinary level,
looked black from the colour of the banks and the soil through which it
passed; and had an appearance of depth, not at all inviting to drivers
of heavily-laden drays.
However, cross it they were compelled to; for there was no other place
where the river could be passed with any degree of safety, without going
considerably farther; so, after directing John to go over with his
horse, that he might see what he had to encounter, the first
bullock-driver urged his team down the slope and into the water, where
it splashed and floundered on until it succeeded in bringing the dray
about half way across. There the bottom was so soft, and the dray wheels
had become so embedded in the mud, that only with the assistance of the
second team could the passage be effected. The second dray was not even
so fortunate as the first; for all efforts of the double team were
unavailing to pass the rubicon; and it settled in the mud mid-way
between the banks. Adding to this, the fact that the water was already
above the axle, and consequently damaging the loading; and that in all
probability, if not speedily extricated, the dray would become even more
immovable; it was evident, to the men, some strenuous efforts were
required to overcome the difficulty.
The Australian bullock dray with its bovine traction, we may remark, is
without exception the most primitive means of conveyance that can either
be devised or imagined. The ponderous vehicle, in perfect keeping with
the heavy and drowsy quadrupeds who draw it at a snail-like pace, stands
prominently forth as a reproach to the inventive genius of man; and,
excepting perhaps the substitute of iron in coupling and linking the
animals, and in some parts of the vehicular construction, the whole
equipage possesses not the shadow of an improvement on the popular
conveyances of the age of Sesostris. But in this sunny land, settlers
are content with the questionable facilities of transit offered by these
primeval means; while they console themselves with the belief that no
other style of vehicle would stand the wear and tear of being drawn over
logs and stumps of trees, rocks and precipices, and through rivers and
swamps; and that no other animal but the patient bullock, could endure
the fatigue and privation of alternate heat, wet, hunger and thirst, and
a constant taxation of strength and resignation. 'Tis true, at times,
the obstacles to travelling are almost insuperable, and that the roads
have no title to the dignity of such a name; being, in most instances,
merely tracks formed by the drays following the course of a predecessor;
but still, no attempt even is made to improve the means of conveyance.
The settlers content themselves with the existence of things that be,
and are satisfied with the progressive rate of from fifteen to twenty
miles a day; at which speed a team of ten bullocks, in fine weather,
will draw a dray with thirty to forty hundred-weight; while during wet,
they may not perform the same distance in a week.
The individuals who manage the guidance of these machines, and who are
generally accompanied by an assistant, are too often some of the most
reprobate members of the family of man. Their sole accomplishments are
the management of their drays; the forcible appeals to their bullocks,
made by the application of their long whips (upon the expertness in the
use of which they pride themselves); the facile utterance of their
blaspheming interjections; and their ability to plunder without
detection. The _acme_ of their human felicity is perpetual intoxication;
and to gratify this propensity, they have no scruples in assisting
themselves to any liquor which they may be entrusted to carry;
frequently adopting ingenious plans to abstract it from the bulk, and
replace it by water in such a way as to defy detection. They are
ignorant in the extreme, and though assumed to be civilised and sentient
beings, their vices render them, in the scale of humanity, on a par with
the aboriginal blacks; individuals of whom, frequently follow in their
train, and, until debased by their vile influence, by far their
superiors in an ethical point of view.
In stimulating the propulsion of his team, the bullock-driver addresses
each of his beasts by name; such as, "eh, Smiler;" "come up,
Strawberry;" "Cap-tain," etc.; accompanying every admonition with a
profusion of oaths, and a wholesale application of the lash. If
remonstrated with for his use of so ungenteel a vocabulary, he will
endeavour, with considerable earnestness, to convince you that the
bullocks perfectly understand what is said to them; and that they are so
wayward in their disposition, that nothing short of such determined and
forcible language is of any avail. He will support his arguments with
many stories of the wonderful instinct and percipiency displayed by his
animals; all of which stories, though exceedingly marvellous, obtain
implicit credence in the mind of the narrator; and only come short, in
point of hyperbolical marvel, of the wonderful utterance of Tom Connor's
cat, in the plain Anglo-Saxon vernacular. Though we do not intend either
to support or refute the sophistry of these men, it is only just to say,
that considering every bullock has a name, upon the utterance of which
it is made to feel an application of the whip, it is not to be wondered
at that the animals are soon taught to recognise their appellations, and
in the expectation of chastisement, to brighten up when they hear them.
The reader may imagine we have drawn too depraved a picture of this
neglected class of men; but we solemnly affirm we have not. There
are, of course, exceptions to this, as to every rule; for we have
known many industrious, and even respectable well-conducted men, as
bullock-drivers; but unfortunately they were only the exceptions:
the general mass are as corrupt and vicious as it is possible for
human beings to be. Why this is so, we are at a loss rightly to
understand; though we imagine the primary cause is this: Attendant on
bullock-driving are many discomforts; more, possibly, than in any other
occupation in the bush. Hence it is an employment which industrious or
enterprising individuals generally shun; and in the successive scales of
advancement, in which the steady immigrant effects his rise, it is left
to members of the lowest scum; who prefer the freedom of this erratic
life, to the more settled conformities of order and society.
We left John Ferguson on the bank of the river, gazing on the dray
safely (or rather unsafely) fixed in the bed of the river. The
bullock-drivers had lashed, frantically shouted, and swore; while they
performed sundry manoeuvres, and excited evolutions; to induce the
bullocks to strain an extra nerve, to extricate the vehicle: but all to
no purpose; the efforts of the beasts were unavailing, while the delay
only rendered the case more hopeless. In this state of things, the men
perceived the only course open to them, was to lighten the load as much
as possible, by partially unloading the dray, and carrying the goods
over the river themselves. With this determination they set earnestly to
work, and succeeded in removing the greater portion of the goods; when
they made another attempt, happily with better success than previously;
and brought the dray from its miry adherence to a position on the bank.
It was then reladen with the goods; while the men, barely recovered from
the chagrin caused by the misadventure, performed their work with a
sullen moroseness, enlivening their gloom by animadversions on the
river, the country, and everybody connected with their peregrination.
In this humour John left them to follow him, while he proceeded to the
station, where we will also lead the reader. Upon his return to Fern
Vale, he found, during his short absence, that the blacks, attracted by
the appearance of a fresh settlement, had congregated in some
considerable numbers; though more out of curiosity than with any idea of
aggression. At sight of John, a number of them immediately assembled
round him; looking at him, and everything about the place, in a sort of
inquisitive manner; jabbering amongst themselves; and handling
everything portable within their reach. The group consisted of some
twenty persons of both sexes and various ages; and were a family of the
Nungar tribe, which usually made its home on the other side of the
Gibson river, in the scrub, and the mountains and broken country
receding from it.
The sight of this visitation did not altogether please the young
squatter, for he thought he saw in the future considerable annoyance
from similar visits. He therefore demanded of them what they required;
and told them, that though he had no objection to their coming about the
place so long as they behaved themselves, if he caught them committing
any theft, or becoming in any way troublesome, he would not allow one of
them afterwards to approach the station.
They seemed to understand this communication; for one of them informed
John, that a good many of their tribe had been employed by the
squatters, to wash their sheep, and do work about the stations, and
would be very glad to do the same for him. Thinking possibly that it
might be the means of coming to some friendly understanding with the
tribe, and would give him a means of acquiring some knowledge of their
movements and disposition, he thought it advisable to take the services
of some of them; more especially as in the then rough state of the
settlement, their services could be turned to some account. Acting on
this impulse, then, he selected two young athletic black boys; who
seemed more intelligent than the majority, and who appeared to have a
disposition to remain on the station, and to adapt themselves to the
ways of the white man. He then distributed some tobacco and rations
amongst them, and they took their departure apparently well pleased.
By this time the drays were seen making their approach; and great was
instantly the bustle in preparation for the reception of the "loading."
The articles which constitute a station's "supplies" are of such a
kaleidoscopic variety, that their enumeration would almost be endless;
and we will merely observe that the heterogeneous mass was safely, and
speedily, transferred from the dray to the ground, whence it was
deposited in the store. Various edibles; and their condiments such as
tea, sugar, flour, oilman's stores, etc., were successively unpacked and
stowed away; and everything appeared to be sound, until it was
discovered that the salt, which had been placed in the bottom of the
dray, was unfortunately damaged; it had, in fact, during its submersion
in the water "dissolved," and
"Like the baseless fabric of a vision,
Left not a rack behind."
Such events as this are of frequent occurrence; and, where the
opportunities of procuring supplies are very rare, severe are the
straits, and numerous the inconveniences, to which residents in the
interior are subjected. After long and continued wet or dry weather,
when travelling is rendered difficult or impossible, from the country
being impassable by floods, or impracticable from drought and absence of
feed, settlers in the remote districts are often reduced to states
bordering on absolute starvation, or at least to a subsistence on meat,
without any concomitant "fixins." When such cases occur, which we are
happy to say is seldom, the squatters lend to one another the articles
most in demand, until they either all become destitute of provisions, or
are relieved by the receipt of a fresh supply. But articles that are not
in every day consumption, and not considered of paramount importance,
they are frequently compelled to do without for months; and so
accustomed do they become to this species of self-denial, that the
absence of many things is thought very little of. Salt, however, is an
article indispensable on a station; for the greater portion of the meat
consumed is required to be salted, to preserve it in the hot weather;
while it is also frequently necessary, on some stations, to supply it to
the sheep and cattle. For this purpose, rock salt is usually provided;
but, in its absence, the ordinary coarse salt is put into small canvas
bags, and suspended from trees, that the cattle may satisfy their saline
cravings by licking the moisture, which, from the nightly dews and the
natural dampness of the salt, exudes through the pores of the canvas.
When John saw the nature of his loss, knowing there was no use in
complaining, he made the best of his mishap by determining to ride over
in the morning to Strawberry Hill, and see if he could not borrow some
from his neighbour there until the receipt of his further supplies for
shearing. Before going, however, on the following morning, he desired to
settle with the bullock-driver for the carriage of his supplies up, and
to make arrangements with him for the occupation of one of his teams for
the remainder of the season. For that purpose he took his bridle in his
hand, and proceeded to catch his horse, which was running in one of the
paddocks lately fenced in; and on the way, as he passed the camp of the
draymen, he requested the fellow to go up to the hut in a few minutes,
to be settled with, and receive his instructions for further employment.
He then went in search of his steed, leaving the men stretched on the
grass in front of a fire, near which stood their pots of tea, cooling;
and in the ashes of which lay embedded their "damper," receiving its
finishing heat, preparatory to being subjected to the operation of
mastication; while the fellows themselves lay motionless, and careless
of everything around them, in the full enjoyment of the everlasting
pipe.
Oh, smoke! thou deity of thousands, and the special idol of the
bush-man! thou that soothest the dull moments of a weary solitude, and
the anguish of a desponding spirit; that satisfiest the cravings of a
consuming hunger; that alleviates the pains, brightens the intellects,
and dispels illusion of the morbid fancies and diseased imaginations of
thy votaries! thou anodyne for melancholy; thou disseminator of good
feeling; conciliator and ratifyer of peace offerings! without thee what
would mortal bush-man be?--they, to whom thou art a friend in need. All
potent smoke! thine influence is supreme; thy virtues are legion; and
thy capabilities are boundless as the vapour into which thou meltest as
a holocaust for thy happy devotees. If the pipe could but speak, what
mysteries could it reveal! the rapturous visions of the inspired lover,
rising in the circular imageries of its vaporous fumes, to beguile his
fancies in the absence of his loved one; or the workings of a deep
despondency and bitter disappointment, carrying its victim with blind
impetuosity to a melancholy contemplation of a drear destruction, until
the spirit seizes with avidity the proffered consolation, and the
phantasmia vanishes under thy narcotic influence. The miseries of an
insatiable thirst, and the sufferings of a gnawing hunger, fatigue, and
indisposition, are all forgotten during the enjoyment of a smoke; while
in a dilemma, or danger, in a deluging discomfort, or the anxieties
consequent on being lost in the bush, the pipe is the ever ready
comforter; and one which rarely fails to bring consolation to the mind.
Well, therefore, may it be imagined that the pipe is "the friend of the
people;" and that, not only of the canaille, the "great unwashed," but
the entire nation; who in this day of general enlightenment and mental
percipiency, have not failed to distinguish its claims, and to "render
homage where homage is due." Many are the shifts, and crude the
inventions in the bush, when emergencies call forth the application of
the old proverb respecting the relationship that exists between
destitution and genius; and when to be minus the support of the
Virginian weed, is considered a greater misfortune than to be wanting
of the necessaries of life. Hence, when requested by John Ferguson to go
up to the hut, the draymen had not the remotest intention of disturbing
themselves, at least for a time; and they continued to puff in an inert
silence, while they contemplated the flames before them, and ejected an
occasional expectoration, at an imaginary pandemonium in the embers.
They had remained in this state of _statu quo_ for some time, when John
Ferguson, who had caught his horse, and returned to the hut, not finding
the men there, came down to where they lay. He then addressed himself to
the still recumbent driver, and requested that he would come up with him
and be settled with, and arrange for further loading. The independent
carrier did eventually condescend to rise, and he slowly bent his steps
to the station, accompanied by John, who gave him by the way a sketch of
his plans. He wished him to start at once with his dray for Alma, and
to bring back a quantity of shingles, window frames, and doors (for
which, he told him, he would give him an order to a store-keeper there,
who kept a supply of them); and then to return immediately, as the
things were necessary for the construction of his house. The carpenters,
whom he had on the station, were to employ themselves in cutting the
timber and planks required in the erection; which they were to proceed
with, anticipating the return of the dray; by which time John expected
to be ready for shearing, and would be able to give it a load of wool to
take down to the port for shipment. They walked on in this way for some
little distance, Ferguson absorbed in his conversation with the
bullock-driver, and paying little attention to his path; while the
latter listened to his directions, seemingly without noticing his
remarks, beyond an occasional grunt of acquiescence, and with his eyes
fixed upon the ground.
A tributary (or rather the bed of what after heavy rains formed a
tributary) of the creek, though now almost dry, here crossed their path.
At some remote age a large tree had fallen across the stream, and,
having buried itself in the soil on either side, formed a barrier to the
current; which had in the course of years left a deposit of earth and
sand, so as to bring its bed above the impediment on a level with the
obstruction; while, on the lower side of the log, the bank of sand and
pebbles had been hollowed out into a pool by the eddying of a miniature
cataract. Though the creek was otherwise dry, in this pool there was
water; and John Ferguson, walking along the course with his companion,
and leading his horse after him by the bridle, made a short bound to
clear the water-hole. He, however, was prevented from effecting his
purpose, by the bullock-driver, who, at the moment of his leap, seized
him by the arm, and caused him to alight, instead of on the bank, in the
middle of the water; where he stood up to his knees, with a look at his
companion of enquiring astonishment. The man, hardly able to refrain
from indulging in a positive fit of stentorian cachinnation, without
deigning any auricular explanation, pointed to the bank, on which
Ferguson felt annoyed for not being permitted to reach. He instantly
directed his eyes to the spot indicated by his companion, and at once
perceived the nature of the escape he had made; for there had lain a
large brown snake, on which he would have inevitably trodden, the
consequences of which made him shudder to contemplate. Being aroused
from its torpor by the approach and close proximity of those, whom its
instinct told it were enemies, the reptile raised its head and about two
feet of its body in a perpendicular attitude, with the head slightly
extended and swaying from side to side; while it protruded its long
forked tongue in fitful starts, and expressed a combination of fear and
venomous hate in loud hisses. John felt his position, as the beast in a
tortuous course slowly curled its body towards him, as being anything
but pleasant; and being only armed with an ordinary riding-whip,
considered that, if discretion was not the better part of valour, it was
certainly more conducive to his safety.
With this belief, and with his eyes fixed upon the reptile, he made a
retrograde movement to extricate himself from the unpleasantness of at
least his damp location; but he was not a little surprised to find the
snake approaching still nearer to him. This puzzled him exceedingly; he
could not understand the idea of a snake attacking a man, when there was
a chance open for it to escape; such a thing he had never heard of, and
had hitherto believed it never to have occurred. But such in this
instance was evidently (he thought) the intention of his opponent, or
why should it continue to diminish the distance between him and itself.
If John did not witness this diminution with alarm, he at least desired
to be better supplied with defence, and shouted to his companion to
procure a stout stick. Obtaining no reply, he cast a hasty glance over
his shoulder, to see what had become of the man; when the snake, taking
advantage of the momentary withdrawal of his eyes, made a rapid movement
towards him. This John instantly perceived, and believing the reptile
was determined to attack him, "he joined issue" at once, and gave a
furious cut at it with his whip. The brute, however, evaded the blow,
and once more erected itself in front of Ferguson, hissing its
malevolence almost in his very face. This movement decided its fate, for
with a motion as quick as thought he gave another cut with his whip;
which, with a whiz that discomposed the nerves of his horse, encircled
with its supple thong the extended neck of the reptile, and terminated
its existence by dislocation. He then effected another fulfilment of the
prognosticated command of an inscrutable divinity, by crushing its head
under his heel; when he was joined by his companion, who had been
searching for a weapon to aid in the strife. The snake thus destroyed
was of the brown species, and deadly venomous; it measured about six
feet, and, if it had been trodden upon by John Ferguson, would have in
all human probability saved us from the further pursuit of this
narrative. Its pertinacity in approaching to its destruction, we may
state, was owing to the fact of John preventing it from reaching its
hole; which they now discovered under the log, and close to where he had
stood. The couple now pursued their course, and after arriving at the
huts and settling with the drayman for the work he had already
performed, and giving him an order to the store-keeper in Alma, with the
necessary instructions, John took his departure for Strawberry Hill.