The Bushman - Life in a New Country Part 13

It was a splendid October morning, (the commencement of summer,) and we rattled over the long and handsome wooden bridges that cross the two streams of the Swan, at a spanking pace, whilst the worthy editor, exulting in his temporary emanc.i.p.ation from office, made the wooded banks of the river ring again with the joyous notes of his key-bugle.

Half an hour carried us over five miles of road, and brought us to Mangonah, the beautifully situated dwelling of R. W. Nash, Esq., barrister at law, the most active-minded and public-spirited man in the colony. After a short delay, to laugh at one of our friend's last coined and most facetious anecdotes, and also to visit his botanical garden, we rattled off again to Guildford; a scattered hamlet that was made acquainted with our approach by loud strains from the editor's bugle. Here, however, we paused not, but proceeded along a hard and good road towards Green Mount, the first hill which we had to ascend. Green Mount, six miles from Guildford, is famous for a desperate skirmish which took place some years ago between a large body of natives and Messrs. Bland and Souper, at the head of a party escorting provisions from Perth to the infant settlement at York. Whilst slowly ascending the hill, a thick flight of spears fell among the party, wounding several of them. No enemy was visible, and the greatest consternation prevailed among the men, who hastened to shelter themselves under the carts. This induced the natives to rush out of their ambush, when they were received with a shower of b.a.l.l.s; and at length driven back, after losing a good many men. Mr. Souper had several spears sticking in his body, and others of the English were severely wounded, but none mortally.

The natives are very tenacious of life, and so are all the birds and animals indigenous to the country.

The natives often have spears thrust completely through their bodies, and without any serious injury, receive wounds that would prove mortal to the whites. A vagabond who had speared one of those n.o.ble rams of ours, of whom honourable mention has been already made, was shot by our shepherd whilst in the act of decamping with the carcase.

The ball pa.s.sed completely through his lungs, and would have made an end of any white man; but the native recovered in the course of a few days, and walked a hundred miles heavily ironed, to take his trial for sheep-stealing at the Quarter Sessions.

From Guildford to the foot of Green Mount, the country presents a vast plain of cold clayey soil, unfit for cultivation, and though covered with scrub, affording very little useful herbage.

On ascending the hill, we come upon what is generally called the iron-stone range, which extends nearly to York, a distance of forty miles. These extensive hills (about fifteen hundred feet above the level of the sea) are composed almost entirely of granite rocks, with occasional tracts of quartz; and the surface is generally strewn over with a hard loose rubble.

Although the sides and summits of the hills present scarcely any appearance of soil, vast forests of large Jarra trees, and other varieties of the eucalyptus, extend in every direction; and flowers the most beautiful relieve the sombre appearance of the ground. Some few of the valleys afford a few acres of alluvial soil; and in the first of these, called Mahogany Creek, six miles from Green Mount, we found a comfortable way-side house, with good out-buildings, and other accommodations; and here we halted to lunch, and bait our horses.

Many other individuals, bent upon the same journey as ourselves, were lounging and smoking before the house, or partaking of the refreshments. Most were travelling on horseback; some in gigs, and some in light spring-carts. A famous round of cold beef, with bottled ale and porter, proved extremely agreeable after our drive.

In the afternoon we proceeded fifteen miles farther, to the half-way house, where on my first arrival in the colony I had been initiated into the art of cooking a saddle of kangaroo, and serving it up with mint-sauce. The road, through a dense forest of evergreen trees, is excessively dreary, and the quarters for the night were never very satisfactory; but the traveller might always look forward to a comfortable sitting-room, kangaroo steaks and pork, with plenty of fresh eggs and good bread. Since that time the house has been given up by the energetic landlord; and the Local Government is partly responsible for the loss of this accommodation, in consequence of having insisted upon a heavy license being annually taken out. In good times, when the farm-settlers of the York and Northam districts brought their wool and other produce down this road to the capital, they invariably spent a merry evening at the half-way house; but since money has become scarcer in the colony, they have been compelled to avoid this place of entertainment, and kindle instead a fire by the road-side, where they spend their evenings in solitary meditation, to the advantage doubtless of their minds and purses. In the morning, full of philosophical thoughts and fried rashers of pork, they calmly yoke their bullocks to the wain, unafflicted by those pangs which were often the only acknowledgment rendered to the hospitality of Mr. Smith -- pangs of mental remorse and a bilious stomach. And yet the worthy host never suffered a guest whom he respected to depart without administering to him what he called "a doctor" -- of which, about five o'clock in the morning, the poor man usually felt himself much in need; and at that hour, as Aurora entered at the window, would mine host (equally rosy-cheeked) enter by the door, and deliver his matutinal salutation. This "doctor," a character universally esteemed by travellers in those parts, was a tumbler of milk fresh from the cow, tinctured with brandy.

The glory had not departed from the half-way house at the period to which I refer; and as we drove up to the door, amid the liveliest strains of the editorial bugle, our jovial host welcomed us with his heartiest greeting. This spot is truly an oasis in the desert, affording a few acres of tolerable land, and some excellent garden-ground which, in the season, produces abundance of grapes, peaches, apples, figs, and various kinds of vegetables. A deep brook runs at the bottom of the garden which is very well watered; and on its margin, in the midst of a green plot, protected by palings from rude encroachment, is the quiet grave of one of Mr. Smith's children.

How different looks the solitary grave of the desert from the crowded churchyards of England! How much more home it comes to the heart!

Across the brook is a large barley-field, and down the valley are several other inclosures; all around, beyond these, is the dark, melancholy, illimitable forest. At one end of the house, which is of goodly size, stands a huge erection of wood, resembling a gallows, from which are suspended the bodies of three kangaroos. Not far from this, a group of natives -- men, women, and children -- are squatted round a small fire, eating baked opossums, and chattering, and uttering shrill screams of laughter, with all their might. Half a dozen large kangaroo dogs are hanging about this group with wistful eyes, but evidently without any expectations of obtaining a morsel.

The house, being filled with people on their way to the races, resounded all the evening with jokes and merriment; and when the well-disposed retired to bed, and flattered themselves they were just sinking into repose, a mob of their evil-minded friends, headed by an Irish barrister and the usually sedate Crown Solicitor, beat down the door, and pulled them forth again. Then were the four walls of the room (which contained four beds) made witnesses to a scene exhibiting all the horrors of war. Dreadful was the conflict: bolsters and carpet-bags were wielded with fierce animosity; pillows and rolled-up blankets flew about the room like cannon-shot; and long was the contest doubtful, until the despair of the besieged at length overcame the impetuosity of the a.s.sailants, and succeeded in driving them from the apartment.

The half-way house was often so crowded that some of the guests had to sleep upon the dining-table, the sofas, and the floor. At early dawn it was usually cleared of its visitors, who would push on to breakfast at Mahogany Creek; or if going to York, at St. Roman's Well, distant some fifteen miles. It was here that we breakfasted, sitting upon the gra.s.s, whilst with our camp-kettle we boiled our chocolate, and enjoyed our morning meal exceedingly.

York is a scattered hamlet of good farm-houses. The country is highly interesting. A lofty hill, or mountain, called Mount Bakewell, confines the view on one side, and below it is the river Avon, a broad stream in winter, but in summer consisting only of deep pools in various parts of its course. The neighbourhood is beautifully wooded, and has the appearance of a park. In the centre of the hamlet a modest-looking, white-washed church "rears its meek fane."

Nothing could be more peaceful and serene than the whole aspect of the place.

At my brother's farm, comprising 4,000 acres, the property of R. H.

Bland, Esq., Protector of Natives, we found a hearty reception, and a very pleasant dwelling-house. For several days it was filled with young men who had come from various parts of the colony to attend the races.

These gentlemen were most of them young men of good family, and well educated, who having only a small patrimony, and having been brought up to no trade or profession, had come out to a colony in the hope of acquiring landed estates, and of founding in this part of the world a family of their own. In the meantime they had to drive their teams, shear their sheep, thresh their corn, and exhibit their skill in husbandry; whilst their houses were as ill arranged and uncomfortable as could be expected from the superintendence of bachelors who thought more of their stables than of the appearance of their rooms.

They care more about good horses than good cooks, and in most cases prefer doing without kitchen stuff rather than be troubled with a garden.

Freedom of discourse and ease of manner characterize the social meetings of our bachelor aristocracy "over the hills."

Dinner is only to be obtained by dint of incessant shouting to the slave (frequently an Indian Coolie) who presides in the detached kitchen, and brings in the viands as fast as he "dishes up." The roast mutton gradually cools upon the table while Mooto is deliberately forking the potatoes out of the pot, and muttering curses against his master, who stands at the parlour-door, swearing he will wring his ears off if he does not despatch. In order to moderate the anguish of stomach experienced by the guests, the host endeavours to fill up the time by sending the sherry round. The dinner is at length placed upon the table, and Mooto scuffles out of the room whilst his master is busy carving, lest he should be compelled to wait, an occupation less agreeable than that to which he returns, and which engages most of his time -- sitting on an upturned box before the fire, and smoking his pipe. Here, piously thanking Vishnu and Brama for such good tobacco, he puffs away, heedless of the shouts of his suzerain, who has just discovered there are only eight plates for twelve people. One of the guests volunteers a foray into Mooto's territory, chiefly for the sake of relieving his own feelings by making that worthy acquainted with the opinion he entertains of him, and returns to his seat with cold plates and a tranquillized mind.

When the villain lacquey has smoked his pipe, he brings in the cheese, and clears away. No unnecessary feelings of delicacy restrain the guests from reviling him seriatim as he removes the platters; and he retires to his own den and the enjoyment of a pound of boiled rice with undisturbed equanimity, leaving the others to boil the kettle and concoct egg-flip, which, together with wine, brandy, cigars, and pipes, enables the party to get through the afternoon. Some remain at the table, drinking out of wine-gla.s.ses, tumblers, or pannikins (every vessel which the house contains being put in requisition), and talking loudly about their horses, or making bets for the next day's races; others having thrown off their coats, and flung their persons upon a sofa, with their feet on a window-sill, puff away in meditative silence, only joining occasionally in the conversation; whilst two or three walk up and down the verandah, in solemn consultation as to the best mode of hedging, having unhappily backed a colt for the Margaux Cup that turns out to be a dunghill.

I trust my good friends over the hills will not think I am making an ungrateful return for much hospitality by this rough and imperfect sketch. Heaven knows they are a worthy, kind-hearted, hospitable set of good fellows as ever drew a cork or made egg-flip; but I must say some of the bachelor establishments are rather in a rude and primitive state at present.

Those houses which are fortunate enough to possess a presiding genius in the gentle and attractive form of Woman are very differently ordered. English neatness and English comforts pervade the establishment, and the manners and customs of well-regulated society are never forgotten.

It is a pleasant sight in the evening to watch the cattle driven into the stock-yard by the native boy, who has been with them all day in the bush. Some of the old cows go steadily enough in the right direction, but others, and especially the young heifers, are continually bunting one another, and trying to push their next neighbours into the ditch. Several, tempted by a pleasant field of barley, have leapt over a broken rail, and are eating and trampling down all before them. But soon they are perceived by the dusky herdsman, who incontinently shrieks like one possessed by demons, and rus.h.i.+ng after the stray kine with a bough hastily picked up, chases and belabours them up and down the field (the gate of which he has never thought of opening), until he has done as much mischief as possible to the crop. Somebody then opens the gate for him, and the cattle are at length secured in the yard.

Next arrives a flock of two thousand sheep, driven by white shepherds. On coming to the entrance of the fold-yard, they stop and hesitate, refusing to enter. All is uncertainty and confusion, the rearmost urged forward by the shout of the men and the barking of the dogs, who run from side to side, thrusting their noses into the soft white fleeces, press into the ma.s.s; great is the scuffle, the rush, and the pattering of feet over the loose pebbles of the yard. At length, a hardy and determined ram in the vanguard gives a leap of ten feet through the open gateway, and the others hustle through after him, every one leaping as he had done, and all congratulating themselves on having thus cleverly eluded the designs of some unseen enemy.

I do not intend to give an account of the races, though they afforded more amus.e.m.e.nt probably than is common at Epsom or Ascot. Every one knew everybody and everybody's horse; and as the horses were generally ridden by gentlemen, there was no doubt of fair play.

There was an accident, as usual, in the hurdle-race; but not being fatal, it did not interrupt the sports. Large groups of the natives, sitting on the ground, or standing leaning on their spears, gave increased effect to the picturesque scenery. Some clumps of forest-trees still occupied the centre of the course, and through these you caught glimpses of coloured jackets and jockey-caps as they flashed by. The green side of Mount Bakewell was spotted with sheep, and above them frowned a forest of dark trees.

A loaf of bread stuck upon a spear was a mark and a prize for native dexterity. The dusky savages forming a line in front, and cl.u.s.tering eagerly upon one another behind, took their turns to throw at the coveted target; and every time that a spear left the womera, or throwing-stick, and missed the mark, a shrill yell burst simultaneously from the ma.s.s, relieving the excitement which had been pent up in every breast. But when a successful spear struck down the loaf, trebly wild and shrill was the yell that rent the air.

The York and Northam districts afford a vast quant.i.ty of land suitable for all kinds of grain. The sheep and cattle runs are excellent, but they are now fully stocked, and new settlers must direct their steps to the southward, the Dale and Hotham districts affording scope and verge enough for many a flock and herd. Our own sheep were generally kept at a squatting station on the Hotham, some sixty or seventy miles south of York. Thither, after the races, we drove to inspect the flock. There was no road, and only an endless succession of trees, and of gently rising and falling country. How my brother and his men used to manage to hit upon the site of the location is more than I can conjecture. People accustomed to the bush seem to acquire, like the natives, the faculty of knowing exactly the direction, position, and distance of the spot they want to reach.

On the way, we fell in with one of those extraordinary nests constructed by that singular bird called by the natives the Now. Mr.

Gould's description of a similar bird in New South Wales, the Brush Turkey 'Talegalla Lathami' does not exactly tally with that which we should give of the Now. His description is as follows: -- "For some weeks previous to laying its eggs, the Brush turkey collects together an immense ma.s.s of vegetable matter, varying from two to four cart-loads, with which it forms a pyramidal heap; in this heap it plants its eggs about eighteen inches deep, and from nine to twelve inches apart. The eggs are always placed with the large ends upwards, being carefully covered, and are then left to hatch by the heat engendered by the decomposition of the surrounding matter. The heaps are formed by the labours of several pairs of birds. The eggs are white, about three inches and three quarters long by two and a half in diameter, and have an excellent flavour."

Of this bird, Professor Owen observes, "On comparing the osteology of the 'Talegalla' with that of other birds, it exhibits all the essential modifications which characterize the gallinaceous tribe; and among the Rasores, it most nearly resembles the genera Penelope and Crax."

The Now of Western Australia does not build its nest of vegetable substances, but collects together an immense heap of earth, sand, and small stones, into the form of a broad cone, four or five feet high in the centre, and about ten feet across. Directly in the centre it either leaves or subsequently hollows out a hole large enough to admit itself, into which it descends and deposits its eggs. The powerful summer sun heats the earth sufficiently to hatch the eggs, and the young birds come forth active and able to provide for themselves. Not the least astonis.h.i.+ng part to me is, how they manage to scramble out of that deep hole. The natives declare that the hen frequently visits the nest, and watches the progress of incubation, and then when the young ones are hatched, they get upon her back, and she scrambles out with her family about her.

This bird is about the size of a pheasant, has long legs, and a very deep breast-bone. It runs fast. Each nest is supposed to be built by a single bird, but it is believed that other birds may occupy them in succeeding seasons.

In the afternoon of the second day after leaving York, we descended into a broad valley, abounding with gra.s.s and scattered gum-trees. A large flock of sheep were being driven towards the bottom of the valley, where we could discern signs of human habitation.

On arriving, we found a hut built of piles or stakes interwoven with boughs, before the door of which was a fire with a large pot upon it, from which a powerful steam arose that was evidently very grateful to a group of natives seated around. Two families seemed to compose this group, consisting of a couple of men, four women, and five or six children of various ages. As we drew nigh, the whole party, without rising, uttered a wild scream of welcome, accompanied by that loud laughter which always seems to escape so readily from this light-hearted and empty-headed people.

On descending from the vehicle, and looking in at the hut door, we perceived lying in his s.h.i.+rt-sleeves on a couch composed of gra.s.s-tree tops covered with blankets and a rug made of opossum skins, the ill.u.s.trious Meliboeus himself, with a short black pipe in his mouth, and a handsome edition of "Lalla Rookh" in his hand.

Perceiving us, he jumped up, and expressing his loud surprise, welcomed us to this rustic Castle of Indolence.

When a large flock of sheep is sent into the bush, and a squatting station is formed, the shepherds take the sheep out to pasture every morning, and bring them home at night, whilst one of the party always remains at the station to protect the provisions from being stolen by the natives. This person is called the hut-keeper. His duty is to boil the pork, or kangaroo flesh, and provide supper, etc., for the shepherds on their return at night. Meliboeus, who superintended this station, undertook the duties of cooking and guarding the hut whenever he did not feel disposed to go out kangaroo-hunting, or shooting wild turkeys or c.o.c.katoos. In all things, sports or labours, the natives were his daily a.s.sistants, and in return for their services were rewarded with the fore-quarters of the kangaroos killed, and occasionally with a pound or two of flour. There were some n.o.ble dogs at the station, descendants of Jezebel and Nero; and my brother had a young kangaroo, which hopped in and out with the utmost confidence, coming up to any one who happened to be eating, and insisting upon having pieces of bread given to it. Full of fun and spirits, it would sport about as playfully as a kitten; and it was very amusing to see how it would tease the dogs, pulling them about with its sharp claws, and trying to roll them over on the ground. The dogs, who were in the daily habit of killing kangaroos, never attempted to bite Minny, who sometimes teased them so heartily, that they would put their tails between their legs and fairly run away.

The great enemies of the sheep in the Australian colonies are the wild-dogs. At York, and in the other settled districts, they are very troublesome, and require the shepherd to keep a constant lookout. We were therefore much surprised to learn that although wild dogs abounded near this squatting station, they never attempted to touch our flocks. A sheep was to them a new animal; they had yet to learn the value of mutton. A cowardly race, they are easily intimidated, and as they have not the art of jumping or clambering over a fence, a low sheep-fold will keep them out, provided they cannot force their way under the palings or hurdles. They cannot bark, and utter only a melancholy howl. The b.i.t.c.h generally litters in a hollow tree, and produces four or five puppies at a birth.

The production of wool -- the careful acquisition of a good flock of well-bred sheep, and the attainment of the highest degree of perfection in preparing the fleeces for the English market -- appears to us to be the proper ambition of an emigrant to the Australian colonies. When ill-health compelled my steps. .h.i.ther, it was the intention of myself and brothers to invest our capital entirely in sheep; and retiring into the bush for some six or seven years, gradually acc.u.mulate a large flock, the produce of which would soon have afforded a handsome income. It has never, however, appeared to be the object of either the Home Government or the Local Government of any colony (though unquestionably the interest of both) to encourage emigration. Settlers have invariably every possible difficulty thrown in their way. On arriving in this colony, we found to our astonishment that squatting was illegal, and that we would not be allowed, as we had designed to carry our goods into the interior and form a station upon Government land. No license could at that time be obtained, and if we bought the smallest section allowed to be sold, which was 640 acres, for as many pounds, it was ten to one but we should soon find the district in which it was situated insufficient for the run of a large flock, and should have to change our quarters again. The consequence was, that we were compelled to abandon our project: my brothers took a farm at a high rent, and wasted their capital upon objects that could never bring in a good return; whilst I (infelix!), instead of listening to the gentle bleatings of sheep, and ministering to the early comforts of innocent lambs, have been compelled to hearken to the angry altercations of plaintiff and defendant, and decide upon the amount of damages due to injured innocence when the pot had insulted the kettle.

Now, however, limited licenses are granted to persons wis.h.i.+ng to go as squatters upon Government land; and even before these were issued, we were OBLIGED to send our sheep upon Crown lands, and form a station, for want of room in the settled districts.

Sheep flocks const.i.tute doubtlessly one of the most profitable investments for the employment of capital, notwithstanding the many obstacles and discouragements still thrown by both governments in the way of the wool-grower. They yield a very large return TO THOSE WHO ATTEND TO THEM IN PERSON, and who confine their attention entirely to that pursuit, growing only corn enough for their own consumption.

CHAPTER 21.

EXTRACTS FROM THE LOG OF A HUT-KEEPER.

May 10th. -- Felt rather lonely to-day, in the midst of this endless solitude. Sat before the hut-door thinking of Zimmerman and his Reflections. Also thought of Brasenose, Oxford, and my narrow escape from Euclid and Greek plays. Davus sum, non Oedipus. Set to work, and cooked a kangaroo stew for the three shepherds.

June 4th. -- We have removed the sheep from the Dale to the Avon. We go wandering about with our flocks and baggage like the Israelites of old, from one patch of good gra.s.s to another. I wonder how long it will be before we make our fortunes?

28th. -- K. arrived from York with a supply of flour, pork, tea and sugar. Brings no news from England, or anywhere else. Where the deuce are all the s.h.i.+ps gone to, that we get no letters? Moved the station to Corbeding.

29th. -- K. returned to York with his bullock-cart. No chance of my being relieved at present. Went out by myself kangarooing. The pup, Hector, out of Jezebel, will make a splendid dog. First kangaroo fought like a devil; Hector, fearing nothing, dashed at him, and got a severe wound in the throat; but returned to the charge, after looking on for a few moments. Crossed an immense gra.s.sy plain, eight or nine miles wide, without a tree upon it. Had to carry a kangaroo more than five miles on my back. Wished it at Hanover, and twice abandoned it, but returned for it again, being so much in want of fresh meat.

30th. -- Spent the day in dreary solitude in the hut. All my books have been read, re-read, and re-re-read.

July 1st. -- Went out with the dogs, and caught three kangaroos.