The Australian Emigrant/Chapter 6
CHAPTER VI.
Some months afterwards, business in Melbourne proving dull, the two partners determined to purchase cattle and to go in search of a convenient station on which to run them. As the Westernport district had not been much explored at that time, they decided to proceed there. Accordingly an offer was made to the native Benbo to accompany them, the great inducement being that the party should carry plenty of tea, sugar, flour and tobacco.
"Yes" said Benbo "me go—me take my wife too—strong fellow my wife—carry ebbery ting—good fellow dat—no gammon my wife." A few days afterwards the journey was commenced. The two white men were dressed a la bush, each carried a kangaroo skin knapsack, one compartment of which contained a clean shirt, a small bag of flour, some tea, sugar, and tobacco, and a tin cup and plate; in the other was ammunition and the few articles of a bush toilet, namely, soap, a towel, and brush. On the top of each knapsack was buckled a thick blanket. Their guns were slung or carried in the hand as best suited the convenience of the bearer.
Benbo carried with him his native weapons, consisting of boumerangs, waddy or heavy club, a stone tomahawk, some long spears, and an instrument by which they are thrown, called a womera. A kangaroo skin bag was thrown over his left shoulder which contained them all, with the exception of the spears. His body was enveloped in an opossum skin rug, each skin being wrought in such a manner as to leave the whole as supple as if it had been tanned. His lubra, or wife, who was a short woman about eighteen years of age, was also dressed in the same garb. She had a full bag similar to her husband's on her back, which emulated a marine store in the diversity of its contents: there were wooden utensils for water, tin pots, an old saucepan, a chisel, a large lump of gum, a store of flour, and other provision for herself and husband (genuine from the mart of Raymond and Co.), six miserable puppy dogs, a half roasted opossum, and many other smaller but equally miscellaneous chattels; a little black child about two years old (whom Benbo had been commissioned by some of his tribe to take to its friends, vaguely supposed to be somesomewhere in the Westernport district) and whose bright little eyes and restless behaviour gave him the appearance of a small black dog on the qui vive over the treasures in the bag.
On reaching the opposite side of the Yarra, they found themselves amongst brick kilns and deep pits from whence clay had been dug; many of these pits were half full of stagnant water, and the bull frogs in them were keeping up a continual croaking. Little hovels rose here and there in which dwelt whole families, who were commencing their daily labour of making bricks. The party picked their way through the unhealthy territory, over which hung heavily a cloud of a leaden color, partly vapour and partly smoke, and pregnant with sickness and fever; on emerging from this swamp, the sun shone through a pure atmosphere, and a fresh breeze which was blowing, fanned the travellers as they moved onwards at a good pace, considering the unusual load each carried. Occasionally, after examining minutely the bark of a tree, Benbo would cast aside his cloak and weapons, with the exception of the tomahawk, and cutting notches in the bark, would mount and in a short time would be seen walking about upon the larger branches, prying into the decayed limbs in the hope of finding the opossum which his observation below had induced him to believe was an inhabitant of the tree. It was not often he was disappointed; and when having detected small portions of fur at the entrance of a cavity, he would insert a long twig, and hearing the opossum scrambling about inside, his merry laugh was worth listening to. He would then cut a hole at the extremity of the hollow part, all the time keeping up a continual chattering, addressing himself to the opossum, as yet unseen.—"Eigh! eigh! old 'possum (chop—chop—chop), you dere eh? (chop, &c.,) berry good; you wait a lilly bit (chop, &c). Ah! Ah! me see him back (chop, &c.)—me make him door (chop, &c). Now den, where your tail, eh?" and having seized it and twirled it round rapidly several times, he would bring its head against a limb, and as he watched its struggles, would continue, "Poor fellow, neber mind; me eat you by and by;" and then apparently in a great passion, "What; you no die, eh? (whack—whack—with the tomahawk) You ugly tief, me knock your eye out (whack—whack). Oh! Ah! Dead, I belieb." If it were not so, the fall from such a height sufficed to destroy life, for he would let it drop from an elevation of perhaps seventy or eighty feet, when his wife taking it, would add it to her already extraordinary burden. This she sometimes cast upon the ground, and with a small tomahawk, which she carried, would cut into the root of a honeysuckle or wattle, and by means of a small twig with a hook at the end, extract a large species of grub, from two to three inches in length, after regarding which for a moment, as a gourmand would a particularly tit bit, she would give to the child or eat it herself.
"What a disgusting morsel!!!" says a sensitive reader.
Hast never eaten an oyster, Sir?
About sunset, and after they had left Melbourne some miles behind, Benbo expressed a wish to camp, and pointing to a hut which could be just distinguished through the trees, said some "good white fellows" lived there, who would give them food and shelter for the night. "I think" said Slinger, "we will economise our stores, and will only sleep in the open air when we can't under a roof." "Agreed" said Hugh; and wishing Benbo a good night, they advanced to the hut, and were received by several very fine kangaroo dogs (a breed between the greyhound and bull-dog, noted for fleetness and strength), which ran barking up to them, but were evidently not in a blood-thirsty humour, for on Hugh speaking to one of them, it came up and licked his hand.
"Halloo, strangers! glad to see you," said a tall young man, as he opened the door.—"Our dogs are taught manners—they won't hurt you—they know better than to drive any one from our poor hut.—Such as it is, come in and welcome.—From town, I guess—What news?"
"We are from town," replied Hugh, "and if there is any news, you'll find it in the Melbourne newspapers," and he produced several from his hat.
"Now then," said their entertainer, "sit down, we'll soon have something ready for you.—No grog to offer you, I'm sorry to say.—It wont keep in these parts, will it, Jim?" he said, appealing to one of the other inmates.
"No," said Jim in return, "it wasn't made to keep, was it Tom?"
"Of course not," replied Tom, who appeared to be the eldest of the family: "my brothers, gentlemen," he continued, with a sweep of his arm round the hut, "five on'em, and altho I say it, there aint a happier family in the country. We commenced our colonial edication with five year in Van Dieman's Land, and we're finishing it here. There's my brother Tom, there's Jack, Jim, and Bob; I'm Ned, and the youngest is little Jake (who was about six feet out of his boots)—there; I haven't been so polite for a long time."
"Your hospitality and good feeling," said Hugh, is worth all the politeness in the world. But you have omitted to tell us your sirname.
"Did I?—Martin:—a name well known in the Lincolnshire fens:—but now take a tightner from that cold beef, you shall soon have some tea."
The two did ample justice to the fare which was set before them, whilst one of the brothers Martin, read the newspapers aloud for the edification of the others.
"I see" said Ned, "they are fighting again."
"Who?" asked Slinger.
"O! only the editors. When the Gazette was first published, the Patriot took to squabling, and getting the worst of it, wound up a crushing leader, with a flourish something like this—The editor of the Patriot regrets that he, 'a gentleman by birth, rank, manners, and education,' should have condescended to notice any remarks published in the columns of such a dirty rag as the Gazette. Now it unfortunately happened, that shortly afterwards the Patriot, who had been 'dining out' mistook the watch-house door for his own, and after repeated applications, and a contest with one of the constables, he was obligingly admitted, and the ensuing morning paid five shillings for the accommodation—the penalty for a clearly proved charge of drunkenness being included under the same payment. That was a glorious day for the Gazette, and the whole force of the paper were at the police-office to triumph over the poor Patriot in trouble. That was not the end of it, for when the Gazette appeared next, one sheet was occupied with the following announcement—'Police News: —The Editor of the Patriot, 'a gentleman by birth, rank, manners, and education was yesterday morning fined five shillings for DRUNKENNESS.'"
The party passed the evening in pleasant conversation, and a shake-down being made, the brothers occupied it—a fourpost bedstead (literally; for the posts were in the original state as brought in from the forest,) was allotted to the strangers.
Early the next morning Hugh and Slinger were roused by Benbo, who had stalked into the hut, to the owners of which he was well known. Having breakfasted, the travellers thanked their hospitable entertainers for their kindness, and proceeded on their way.
We do not propose to follow them through each day's journey, or to recount how they first bathed their hands in kangaroo blood, or what petty privations they submitted to when they were not fortunate in falling in with a bush hut. We lose sight of them till they arrive on the shores of the bay of Westerport, ten days after leaving Melbourne. Here it was considered advisable to dismiss their guide, as he was anxious to find some of his tribe, upon whose trail they had fallen. Benbo was accordingly told he could leave, and being presented with a little tobacco, took his departure, and he and his wife (whom he had named Kitty, as being more convenient and euphonious than her original designation, Montgurryburruckuck), were soon hidden by the trees.
"And now," said Slinger, "here we are dependent upon ourselves and a small pocket compass to point our way back again. I think we may venture to take a few days' shooting on the borders of the bay; there are lots of swans in a lagoon to the southward, so Benbo told me, and there is a cattle station beyond it, where we can get provisions if we run short."
"We may as well have all the fun we can, now we are out," chimed in Hugh, who had recovered his wonted spirits.
They travelled all that day, meeting with indifferent sport, as one swan and a duck were the only trophies they carried with them when they arrived in the evening at the bank of a creek, near which they determined to sleep.
"There's a snug-looking hollow tree," said Slinger, "and roomy, so we shall be comfortable enough;" and he advanced to the opening, but sprung back several paces, and raised his gun, as a man advanced from the hollow and cried, "stand!" after regarding them for a moment, he said, "What are you after here? "
"Anything which comes in the way," said Slinger.—"We are out for sport."
"Indeed!" said the man, somewhat incredulously. He was a tall and almost handsome fellow, of a wiry frame denoting great endurance. He had no hat on his head, but a piece of kangaroo skin, sewn in the shape of a skull cap, which served to protect it from the sun. His eyes were quick and roving, and his whole countenance, which was bronzed by exposure to the weather, wore a peculiarly keen expression. His language was good, and his address like that of one who had been used to a far different life than the one he appeared to be leading. He regarded every movement of the strangers with suspicion.Hugh asked him how far he had travelled.
"Some distance" he answered; "my feet are sore and I am weary. I had retired to yonder tree to sleep."
"I am sorry we disturbed you," said Slinger, "you must sleep very tenderly."
A shade of suspicion flitted across the man's countenance, but it disappeared as quickly, as he said, "Yes: a man who travels much in the bush has need to—the blacks and bushrangers are very apt to put one into a sound sleep—the sleep of death, if he do not awake at a slight noise."
"Have you no shoes?" said Slinger, as he noticed his bare feet.
"None: my feet are hardened. I fear me, if it were not that nature is a good shoemaker, whose soles improve the more we wear them, I should be sadly at a loss. May I ask how far you have come, gentlemen?"
"From Melbourne."
"Was there any news abroad?"
"None of importance."
After a slight pause, Hugh said, "Perhaps you are hungry, will you share our supper with us?"
"Gladly," said the man eagerly; I havn't tasted bread for weeks—days I mean" he said, on noticing the surprise with which his assertion was received; and the same suspicious glance was cast around him.
They soon kindled a fire and all seated themselves round it. Hugh produced some remains of a damper wrapped in a piece of a newspaper, and asked the stranger to fall to, who required no second invitation, but ate ravenously. After the meal was over the strange man was reading the paper when he started suddenly and put it into bis knapsack, saying, it would be good for gun-wadding. Looking keenly at Hugh and Slinger, who were somewhat surprised at his excited manner, he asked where they intended to pass the night.
"I think there is room in the hollow tree for us all," said Slinger; but of course, as you were in possession, it remains to be decided whether you will allow of interlopers."
"Certainly, gentlemen; I shall be most happy to entertain you, although my accommodation is somewhat scanty: you must know that is a favourite tree of mine, in which I have slept many times of late. It has served me one good turn, I can tell you; besides protecting me from the wind and weather."
"Do you live in these woods, then?" said Slinger.
"I have of late: and the first night I arrived on the borders of yonder creek I saw this tree, and retired in it to sleep. I was awakened by a noise, and looking about me, could distinguish nothing strange, excepting what I took to be a dead stump standing in the ground where I had not noticed one before. Imputing this to my lack of observation I again laid down, but recollecting my gun was only loaded in one barrel, I roused myself again to charge it,—when the stump was gone. 'Now then' I said to myself, 'for business;' for I knew I had blacks about me. Noiselessly loading my gun with a charge of shot and a ball on the top of it, I climbed up the hollow, taking my blanket with me and leaving my knapsack where I had been lying. I had got up as high as you see that hole, and from there surveyed the only part from whence the blacks could attack me. I had not been there long, when I noticed five dark spots on the ground, and although I could not decidedly say I saw them moving, yet the distance between them and me gradually decreased. I now felt certain it was the blacks, and could have shot two of them easily, but scarcely knew what their object might be, as I could distinguish no spears or other weapons. Taking off my belt I fastened my blanket to it, and lowering it with one hand, whilst I kept my face—which I had blackened with the charred wood inside the tree, lest they should distinguish it, as the moon shone brightly,—to the hole. I waited to see the result. The dark spots immediately, as I anticipated, became stationary, and rising like evil spirits from the earth, balanced each a spear for a moment, and then cast them at the blanket, which I let fall; they then advanced with a yell. I took as steady an aim as I ever did in my life, and fired both barrels, but all the savages dropped. 'That's three too many," said I, as I loaded again. "When next I looked from the hole I could only discover two bodies, one was quite still, the other was writhing in agony, it raised itself erect for a moment, and advancing with a howl, stumbled and fell, and did not move again. After waiting some time I was on the point of descending, when I thought I saw my blanket move; I looked again, and felt satisfied I was right; I pointed my gun to the ground, for I distinctly saw a spear pulled out of the blanket. I concluded from this that the other natives were short of weapons, so I jumped down; but before I could recover myself, was grasped from behind by a gigantic black fellow: I still however retained my gun: I clung to it with all the strength desperation gives, and inch by inch, in the struggle which ensued, I at last got my finger on the trigger—it was at the right moment too, for a black fellow was advancing with a death cry on his lips and flourishing a tomahawk; I managed to cock one of the barrels and to point it at the black, and pulling the trigger it exploded, and the black fellow who held me, let go his grip on seeing his companion fall, which he did terribly wounded: the tall fellow and his companion now made off through the bush, but my blood being up, I took aim, and should have had my long friend, but just then the fellow last shot turned over, groaning in agony; so dropping my piece, thinking I had done mischief enough for one night, I tumbled the two first shot into the creek, for they were quite dead, and on returning to the tree was surprised to find the other one gone. My gun was all right, and I rambled about in the hope of finding him again, but did not. I returned to my tree wondering what could have become of him, and wondering on, fell asleep. I awoke with a crushing blow and the sense of a heavy weight upon my body, and the light of day just breaking, showed me it was a human being. I gave myself up for lost, but grappled with him and met with no resistance. A thrill passed through me on feeling the flesh cold and clammy and the limbs rigid—I grasped the body hard almost hoping to meet with some resistance, but met none:—I cast off the loathsome burthen, and the dead man had done what, when living, with four others, he had failed to do. I trembled with fear, and dared not for some time remove the body, which was of the black who had so mysteriously disappeared. He must have managed to crawl up the tree, and to prevent the flow of blood from his wound had filled it up with stringey bark; there he must have died, and probably stuck in a piece of the hard timber which juts out and affords a firm footing. I will point it out to you to morrow, and the mark of the spears. I shall never forget that night; but knowing the natives have a great dislike to remain in a neighbourhood where any of their tribe have died, I prefer to retain my tree rather than risk spending such another night. I often start in my sleep, and hear that groan, and feel the weight upon my chest, and have that fearful struggle with the dead. But, gentlemen, my yarn has been long enough for tired men, so let us collect some fire-wood and turn in."
A large fire was made up for the night, great logs were piled on it, and a cheerful blaze illuminated the landscape for some distance around. All but the stranger were soon wrapped in a sound slumber. He got up more than once and fed the fire, first bending his piercing glance into the impenetrable gloom of the forest: he made little noise, and Hugh and Slinger slept on. He lit some dead leaves to obtain a more brilliant light, drew from his knapsack the piece of newspaper which had occasioned his surprise, and read a portion of it attentively. It was to this effect—"Government Notice.—£200 reward. Whereas Richard Bayley,—alias the Scourge,—alias Hurricane Dick, a convict, escaped from a road gang, in the district of Menaroo, about two months since, by slipping his irons, and surprising the sentry, inflicted a blow upon his head of which he has since died; and whereas it is supposed he has organized a gang of bush-rangers and committed divers depredations. This is to give notice, that the above reward will be given to any free person or persons, not actually belonging to the gang, who shall take the said Richard Bayley,—alias the Scourge,—alias Hurricane Dick, dead or alive; and a reward of £100 and a free pardon will be given to any of his men who shall deliver him alive into the hands of justice."
"So much for that," he muttered, as he crushed the paper in his hand and threw it in the fire. As he watched its burning he continued, "Would that I could so easily destroy the records of my life; but it cannot be whilst memory lasts.—Richard Bayley," he said, apostrophising himself, for he was the notorious bush-ranger of whom tales were told enough to appal the stoutest heart,—"Necessity has made you live a brute's life, and it may be even yet you shall die a dog's death." He spoke so loudly in his excitement, that the sleepers were disturbed.
"Halloo! Mate!" said Slinger, seeing him sitting up, "I thought I heard some one talking—I suppose 'twas fancy."
"No:" said Bayley: "not fancy:—I've been dreaming one of my cursed dreams again.—Good night," and Slinger soon slept as soundly as before.
"How do I know," muttered Bayley, looking round "but these very men are here to betray me?—Ah:" he exclaimed, as Hugh's head rolled off the knapsack which he was using as a pillow, "there may be information there," and he drew it towards him and examined the contents. "No! No!" he said as he replaced it, "I do them an injustice, none but honest men with hearts at ease could enjoy such sleep as that;" and he leant over the sleepers and then regained his old position, saying, "When shall I sleep so again?—I who am put up for sale at a price—whose rest is a period of danger—who have been driven from bad to worse—whose enemies are all the world, for friends I have not one in whom to trust:" and he buried his face in his hands. Presently he lay down and fell into a fitful slumber, occasionally starting and muttering strange unmeaning sentences. Once he pronounced the name of "Jarroll," and shortly afterwards said, "the greatest rascal of them all." Then he slept more quietly.
The morning sun shone in brilliancy, and nature's pearls glistened on the trees; for there had been a heavy fog, and each leaf sparkled with its dew-drop. Ere the sleepers awoke the sun's beams fell full upon their faces. A light breeze was blowing up the creek, and as it sighed through the bush, set the pendent leaves in a gentle motion, and shook from each tree and shrub a mimic shower. Birds of every shade of plumage, flitted from spray to spray, and the insect world joined them in their morning orisons. Parrots and paroquets continued a subdued chattering as they flitted overhead; the notes of lyre birds were heard from the distant hills, and nearer, the delightful whistlings of the Australian magpies. Now and then some black swans flew by with outstretched necks, and seeing intruders on their domains, expressed surprise by shrill and varied trumpetings. The incessant chirping of myriads of locusts lost its monotony, and with the ripling of the waves upon the distant shore, blended every sound together so sweetly, that for a time the travellers listened in admiration to the most delightful of all melody—the harmony of nature.