The Australian Emigrant/Chapter 7
CHAPTER VII.
Numberless specimens of the Australian Flora bloomed at heir feet for which they knew no names but only that they were beautiful—
"Crimson buds, and white, and red,
The very rainbow showers
Had turned to blossoms where they fell,
And strewed the earth with flowers."
On one hand, several varieties of heath clothed a sandy hillock, whilst in an adjacent gully could be seen tree ferns rearing their graceful forms and giving a tropical character to the scene.
"Is not this an earthly paradise?" said Hugh.
"No:" replied the stranger solemnly, "for it has been stained with human blood."
"I had forgotten that" said Hugh; "why did you call it to my mind? Methought it was a spot whereon a man could dwell for his life, willingly resigning all thoughts of the busy world, and hold converse with the God who made it.—It is most lovely—I never remember experiencing such a feeling of happiness as I do now."
"Happiness!" said the stranger; "I would that I could feel like you.—I did once, but years of——" and here he burst into a rough laugh, and concluded "don't you think I preach well at times?"
"If you can regard a scene like this with indifference," said Hugh, "I do not envy you, and should be inclined to think that the life you appear to have led must have tended to destroy your nobler self."
"I have," said the other, looking up, "been used to such scenes of late years. I felt as you do once; but have wandered long in the woods, and it takes more violent excitements to move me now." He rose, and putting on his knapsack, said, "You have been so kind already to a stranger, that I am emboldened to ask a favor of you; will you spare a little of your flour and ammunition? for I intend leaving this part to day."
Hugh, taking his little store out, put it into his hand, saying, they should reach a station soon, belonging to a Mr. Dodge;" and here," he said, "is a little tobacco, powder, and shot." The stranger preferred bullets, if they could be spared, and received a few in addition. "You should have more," said Hugh, "but our stock is low."
"Thank you kindly, gentlemen," he said, as he shook their hands warmly; "if I had met with hearts like yours in times gone by, I should not now be what I am."
"And what are you?" said Slinger. "I see you have had much trouble, and it is possible we may be able to assist you further."
"You have asked me a plain question: had you addressed me so when we first met, we might not have been so friendly as we are; but your kindness and sympathy have done what iron gangs and lashes, and cruelties of which I dare not think, have been years in bringing to pass. My heart once more beats in unison with my fellow creatures:—you have taught me that all men are not oppressors. But, perhaps, even yet, when I tell you who I am, you too will despise—aye, or it may be, betray me. If you are not what you seem to be, honest and feeling men, in God's name let me go my way; but if your hearts do not belie your looks, seat yourselves and listen how I shall answer your question."
Hugh and Slinger sat themselves upon a fallen tree.
"Give me your words of honour (I have learnt colonial oaths are of no value,) that you will not mention this meeting or anything which may now transpire to any one, whilst such a revelation might tend to my injury."
"We give you our words of honour we will comply with your wishes," said Slinger and Hugh together—Slinger added in an under-tone to Hugh, "Romantic! ain't it?"
"Enough:" said the stranger. "Have you ever heard of a fellow who leads bloodthirsty villains through the woods, himself the greatest wretch of them all, robbing unprotected stations and murdering in cold blood the unoffending inmates, destroying even little children, setting all laws at defiance, both human and divine—violating wives and sisters—marking his track with murder, fire, and devastation?—Have you ever heard of such a being?"
Before there was time for an answer, which Hugh and Slinger, who were speechless, certainly did not give, he sprung to his feet, and casting his gun from him, said,—
"The man whom such lies are spoken of is before you and in your power; work your wills upon him—he is desperate and prepared for everything that can happen: "he folded his arms and leant against the tree; his chest heaving with violent emotion. Neither of the friends spoke a word, and the bushman returned to his old position, and said, in a subdued voice, "I am Bayley, the notorious bushranger."
His listeners felt anything but comfortable at the information, for his name was the terror of the whole country.
"That very paper which I put in my knapsack yesterday contained a Government notice that £200 was set upon my head, dead or alive; and £100 and a free pardon to any of my band who will be base enough to sell me; and I fear," said he, "there was one, if not more, of those who lately joined me, that would most gladly do so. I heard of the notice fortunately, and left them all about a month ago, since which time I have performed alone a dreary journey through the track-less forests, over mountain ranges where no white man has ever set foot before; and through scrubs, in which, any, not driven by necessity as dire as mine, will never penetrate again. Gentlemen, what do you think of your companion now?"
This was what would be called in law a "leading question;" and Slinger in his outspoken way replied, "Well, I don't feel proud of your acquaintance," and he would have proceeded further, but on looking in the bushranger's face he saw enough there to induce him to be silent: it did not display anger, but there was a shade of deep misery upon it, which appealed to Slinger's humanity rather than to his courage.
The bushman continued,—"I have only shed blood to save my own life, and never then if I could avoid it. I know that for some time I and my band have been falsely accused of every depredation which has been committed; but that I have done much to regret, is too true. Let me give you a short history of myself during the last few years, and you will then be the better able to judge for yourselves. I am the son of an Irish gentleman. When young and inexperienced I was induced to join in an election row in a county town in Ireland, which ended in a serious fight between the soldiers and the people, who were flying, when the officer in command ordered another volley to be fired upon them. I was disgusted with this cruelty, and by example and exclamations rallied the people, who faced the soldiers, and although several fell, they beat them out of the town, unfortunately killing, with two others, the officer in command. A warrant was obtained against me as ringleader, and being tried, I was transported. I was sent to Van Dieman's Land, where it fell to my lot to be assigned to a master who had five years before been a bricklayer's labourer, but who, by his good fortune, aided with a great proportion of rascality, had amassed some money, and had actually been made a magistrate. This was the man I had to call master, and to obey his behests however tyrannical, without a word. I submitted to my lot for a time with patience; but one day, for a trifling thing, which he construed into an insult to the dignity of a colonial magistrate, he ordered me to be tied up and to receive three dozen lashes. He was surrounded by men who were bound to obey him as much as I was, and I was seized. I appealed to him in vain to spare me the degradation—to pause and consider whether he was not overstepping the bounds of the law and of humanity. He told me to hold my jaw: 'it will be a satisfaction' he said, 'to see the dignity of a colonial officer righted; I shall remain and see the punishment, and if the scourger does not do his duty, he shall have three dozen himself.' Seeing he was inexorable, I broke from those who held me, dragged the scourge from the hands of the man who held it, and gave my unjust and cruel master the lashes he intended for me. None of the other convict servants would interfere, and I thrashed him until he was quite disfigured: his face was sliced with the thongs; and had I got him now here before me, I would repeat the punishment, or perhaps do more; for to this ill-bred hound, to his cruelty, his utter want of all consideration for others, his avarice and despicable hypocrisy, (for he pretended to be a Christian, and read prayers night and morning to his household, to which, by the bye, if any neglected attending, he would be ordered three dozen lashes), may I attribute all my sufferings and every crime I have committed since. Such was my master, better known as Black Robberson."
"Robberson! why what kind of a man was he?" said Hugh.
"Stout and coarse—he looked like what he is, a cowardly bully."
"The same who returned to the colony in our ship," said Slinger—"the very same."
"He had better have remained away," said the bush-ranger! "After I had treated him as I have told you, I was sent to Sydney to be worked in a chain-gang, from whence I escaped a short time ago, and have ever since been at large. In making this escape I should have been shot by a sentry, had I not struck him with my hand-cuffs: I fear he has since died of the blow. This is the only murder I ever committed, if it must be termed so; but I have saved the lives of many, and it is some consolation to me now. Tell me, gentlemen, were your preconceived notions of me correct?"
"I fear," said Slinger, "you are the victim of a heartless and cruel system."
"My lads!" he said, again grasping their hands, "you two are the first whites who have spoken a kind and friendly word to me for years. I thank you for it from my soul." He stood his gun against the tree, and seated himself by the fire. There was no suspicion about him now: he had eased his mind of a heavy burthen, and felt once again that he was with those of his own species, who looked upon and treated him as a man, though one stained with crime. He buried his face in his hands and was silent for some time. He roused himself up at last, and said, "It is possible you have heard some of my bad deeds rendered ten times worse than reality. Let me tell you of others of a different character, which you will probably never hear from any other lips, but they are not the less true. At the time I first took to the bush, and when the hue and cry was strong after me, I went into Sydney in disguise to save a man I had once known, who was condemned to death. I obtained entrance to the jail at the risk of my own life, and supplied him with a file—the next day he was to have been executed:—that night he escaped. On another occasion, my men had taken two magistrates of the colony and clamoured for their death. I induced them to leave the matter unsettled until the morning, when, as they were notoriously cruel to their convicts, their fate would assuredly have been sealed. That night, after exacting a promise that they would spare their convict servants for the future, I cut the ropes which bound them, and they escaped. If I have killed one man accidentally to save my life, I have spared twenty, even at the hazard of it. But the sun is getting high, and it is time for me to go."
"But where are you going?"
"Any where to avoid falling into the hands of those who know me. Whatever may become of me," he said, lifting his skull-cap, "I shall ever remember the sympathy and kindness I have experienced at your hands. God bless you for it." As he spoke he moved away, and his figure was soon lost amongst the trees.
"I declare," said Slinger, as they commenced their day's journey, "I had no idea bushrangers were such confidential, penitential, and highly respectable characters. I fancy our acquaintance must be an exception to the general rule; but that won't save him—if taken he will not be spared."
"I fear not," said Hugh; "I have heard that colonial authorities know but of one remedy for crime—hanging."[1]
They had scarcely reached the opposite side of a broad lagoon, which lay in their course, and put themselves in travelling trim, when a heavy thumping sound, which seemed to approach nearer and nearer, attracted their attention—
"Blacks," suggested Hugh.
"Kangaroos, I think," replied Slinger.
They hastened to secrete themselves amongst the branches of a fallen tree which still retained its leaves, and were scarcely secure, when Slinger whispered, "Here they come, the beauties—look at 'em—one, two, three, four emus, as I live! Stand by for the two biggest—you take the first shot." On they came, making the ground resound with their heavy tread.—"Now then—up guards and at 'em!" cried Slinger, as he fired upon the advancing birds. Two were wounded: one of these was quite disabled, but the other was not so much injured but that he was rather a formidable antagonist at close quarters. "Don't waste any more powder and shot," said Hugh, " I'll soon finish him," and laying his gun on the ground, he approached the emu cautiously as it lay on its side. He was in the act of seizing it, when, with a severe kick, he lay doubled up upon the turf, and the bird struggled upon its legs. In spite of a shot from Slinger's gun it was making off through the bush, when unexpected assistance appeared; for two fleet dogs passed in full chase and were soon alongside the wounded emu. One of the dogs being a young one, fell into the same error as Hugh, and was soon rendered hors-de-combat by a kick; the other dog, more experienced, still continued the chase, and in the excitement of it, Hugh soon forgot his accident. The old dog headed the bird, turned it, and running alongside, brought it again near the travellers. When both dog and bird were nearly exhausted, with a sudden spring the dog made a snap at the neck of the emu, and in a moment or two it lay dead.
The friends were congratulating themselves on their success, when they observed a human form slinking about amongst the trees, and evidently not caring to approach them nearer.
"The owner of the dogs, I expect," said Slinger; "he must have his share of the spoil. Come on friend," shouted Slinger encouragingly, as he observed the stranger hesitated;—"come on; we are not cannibals."
"What the devil do you mean by trespassing on my ground?" roared the stranger.
This was a novel question to be propounded in a district where the only landmarks were provided by nature, such as a range of hills or a river, and both Hugh and Slinger could not refrain from a good laugh.
"Ah you may laugh," cried the stranger; "but I should jest like to know who you are—I jest should; and what you are doing in these parts."
"Now I'll tell you," said Slinger, "we are looking for a cattle run, and we want to find a Mr. Dodge's station."
"Oh! you want to beat up the quarters of that respectable old gentleman, do you?" said the stranger ironically; and after taking another scrutiny, he sidled up to the sportsmen.
"What did you take us for?" inquired Slinger of him— "bushrangers, eh!"
"Worse than that."
"No."
"Yes."
"Blacks?"
"Worse!—bailiffs. But you aint," said their new acquaintance, quite at his ease;" I know that breed too well. Now I'll be bound to be shot," said he, turning abruptly on Hugh, "if you ever fingered a writ."
"Well, I never did," said Hugh.
"I have,—hundreds," replied the stranger.
"You don't mean to say," interrupted Slinger, "that such creatures as bailiffs are ever to be found in this part of the world—does the law actually spread nets into this, the very fag end of creation?"
"Does it!—I think it does now and then; but it never makes much of a haul," replied the stranger, with a chuckle.—
"I've known as many as two men a month wanting to meet with a friend of mine who lives about here—he never was to be met with, which was unfortunate, for they used to come all the way from the supreme court in Melbourne, and always on particular business too: at length old Dodge, for he is the friend I am speaking of, gave 'em so many specimens of his inventive genius, that for many months they have ceased troubling him."
The sportsmen now informed their new acquaintance that they were anxious to reach this Dodge's station before night, in order to procure flour, for their stock was well nigh exhausted.
"Then you are not after old Dodge himself, eh?—only his flour?"
"We should be most happy to make his acquaintance. I presume, from your description, he must be a character," said Hugh.
"Character! Eh! You must not ask the Melbourne sharks for it: if you do, you will hear of one not worth having. Now let's shoulder the emus; there's lots of oil in these fellows good for bruises, sprains, rheumatism, lumbago, and all that. I have a boat in a creek yonder, and shall be happy to take you to Dodge's station—'tis on the borders of the bay of Westernport."
"Perhaps," said Slinger, "this Dodge will not receive us very civilly: he might make the same mistake you did, and treat us as bailiffs; although, I must say, I should not feel flattered by his doing so."
"No he wont," said the stranger; "I can answer for that;" and he called his dogs to him and examined the one which had been hurt in the late affray.
They then set off for the creek, which was not far, carrying the birds between them. The stranger dragged his boat out of the mangroves which lined the muddy banks, and deposited the spoil in the stern sheets, launched her over the mud into the water, and they drifted slowly down.
"To whom are we indebted for this kindness?" Hugh asked.
"To that respectable gentleman I spoke of—old Dodge himself—He is your humble servant.—Strangers, allow me to introduce to you Giles Dodge—squatter—an outlaw (that means out of the reach of the law, you know,)—the will-o'the-wisp of lawyers—the terror of bailiffs—and as good a rifle shot as any in these parts; who can sneak a kangaroo or a bailiff with any man in the settlement—if he can't may I be darned." What the process of darning might mean was not probably within the comprehension of his listeners; but as he shut one eye in an eccentric manner and threw his face into strange contortions, the reader may conclude that it must have signified something very dreadful indeed.
- ↑ An old colonist informed me that a chaplain of the Hobarton Jail, on one occasion, whilst scrutinising a gallows upon which ten bushrangers were to be executed, very coolly remarked, "Well, the beam appears to be rather short—nine men could hang there comfortably, but the tenth would crowd it." The storekeeper who had the contract for supplying the prisons, frequently used to be waited upon by the last functionary of the law, with an order something in this way, "rop and sop for sem;" Reduced to plain English, it meant, "rope and soap for seven."
In 184— there was an unfortunate native executed for a murder, the committal of which he firmly denied to the last. He was an ignorant savage, made by law a British subject, and amenable to that law of which he had never heard, (still less understood,) condemned to he strangled. The law, when too late, provided him a chaplain to administer spiritual consolation in a language he could not understand, for he was from a tribe who lived far in the interior—many miles beyond where the Black Protectors ever penetrated, and speaking a dialect they had seldom heard. 'Twas well, perhaps, that the Bible was a sealed book to him, or he would have recoiled in disgust at the horrible mockery to the lessons of mercy and justice contained in its pages, presented in the punishment he was about to suffer. The end is soon told: the rev. chaplain attended him to the scaffold. When the prisoner reached the platform, he looked up and saw the awful preparations: the consoler was by his side. Whilst in gaol, the black having learned some broken English, the following specimen of gallows oratory took place:— "Where me go?"
"To heaven, I hope."
"Where em?"
"There," said the chaplain, pointing above.
"Ki!—long way!!—plenty tea, and flour, and baccy dere?"
"It is a good place," said the chaplain.
The executioner then proceeded to pull a cap over his face, when the native said, "What for you put him head in a bag, you dam black tief?"
"Let us pray," said the chaplain.
"No, me too dam frightened.—Long way hem, eh?" But before a reply could be made, the native was in eternity, and the majesty of the law vindicated.