The Book of the Bush - George Dunderdale (life books to read txt) 📗

have to demean myself with prudence, and show no particular affection for one place more than for another, or trouble would ensue. Therefore, as soon as occasion offered, I took a house and paddock within easy distance of all the three corners, so that when the Government allowance had reduced my horse to a skeleton, I might give him a spell on grass, and travel to the courts on foot. The house was on a gentle rise, overlooking a rich river flat. It had been built by a retainer of Lord Glengarry, who had declined to follow any further the fortunes of his chief when he had closed his dairying operations at Greenmount. A tragedy had been enacted in it some years before, and a ghost had often since been seen flitting about the house and grounds on moonlight nights. This gave an aristocratic distinction to the property, which was very pleasing, as it is well known that ghosts never haunted any mansions or castles except such as have belonged to ancient families of noble race. I bought the estate on very reasonable terms, no special charge being made for the ghost.

The paddock had been without a tenant for some time, but I found it was not unoccupied. A friendly neighbour had introduced his flock of sheep into it, and he was fattening them cheaply. I said, "Tityre, tu patulae recubans sub tegmine fayi, be good enough to round up your sheep and travel." Tityrus said that would be all right; he would take them away as soon as they were ready for the butcher. It would be no inconvenience to me, as my horse would not be able to eat all the grass. The idea of paying anything did not occur to him; he was doing me a favour. He was one of the simple natives. As I did not like to take favours from an entire stranger, the sheep and the shepherd sought other pastures beyond the winding Tarra.

The dense tea-tree which bordered the banks of the river was the home of wild hogs, which spent the nights in rooting up the soil and destroying the grass. I therefore armed myself with a gun charged with buckshot, and went to meet the animals by moonlight. I lay in ambush among the tussocks. One shot was enough for each hog; after receiving it he retired hastily into the tea-tree and never came out again.

After I had cleared my land from sheep and pigs, the grass began to grow in abundance; and passing travellers, looking pensively over the fence, were full of pity for me because I had not stock enough to eat the grass. One man had a team of bullocks which he was willing to put in; another had six calves ready to be weaned; and a third friend had a horse which he could spare for a spell. All these were willing to put in their stock, and they would not charge me anything. They were three more of the simple natives.

I would rather buy forty cows than one horse, because, even allowing for the cow's horns, the horse has so many more points. I wanted a good cow, a quiet milker, and a farmer named Ruffy offered to sell me one. He was very rough indeed, both in words and work. He showed me the cow, and put her in the bail with a big stick; said she was as quiet as a lamb, and would stand to be milked anywhere without a leg-rope. "Here Tom," he roared to his son, "bring a bucket, and come and milk Daisy without the rope, and show the gentleman what a quiet beast she is." Tom brought a bucket, placed the stool near the cow, sat down, and grasped one of the teats. Daisy did not give any milk, but she gave instead three rapid kicks, which scattered Tom, the bucket, and the stool all over the stockyard. I could not think of anything that it would be safe to say under the circumstances, so I went away while the farmer was picking up the fragments.


GOVERNMENT OFFICERS IN THE BUSH.

"Satan finds some mischief still For idle hands to do."

Although I had to attend at three courts on three days of each week, my duties were very light, and quite insufficient to keep me out of mischief; it was therefore a matter of very great importance for me to find something else to do. In bush townships the art of killing time was attained in various ways. Mr. A. went on the street with a handball, and coaxed some stray idler to join him in a game. He was a young man of exceptional innocence, and died early, beloved of the gods. Mr. B. kept a pair of sticks under his desk in the court house, and made a fencing school of the space allotted to the public. Some of the police had been soldiers, and were quite pleased to prove their skill in arms, and show how fields were won. As a result there were more breaches of the peace inside the court than outside. Mr. C. tried to while away his lonely hours by learning to play on a violin, which he kept concealed in a corner between a press and the wall of his office. He executed music, and doubled the terrors of the law. Intending litigants stood transfixed with horror when they approached the open door of his office, and listened to the wails and long-drawn screeches which filled the interior of the building; and every passing dog sat down on its tail, and howled in sympathetic agony with the maddening sounds.

But the majority of the officials condemned to live in the dreary townships tried to alleviate their misery by drinking and gambling. The Police Magistrate, the Surveyor, the Solicitor, the Receiver of Revenue, the Police Inspector, and the Clerk of Courts, together with one or two settlers, formed a little society for the promotion of poker, euchre, and other little games, interspersed with whiskies. It is sad to recall to mind the untimely end at which most of them arrived. Mr. D. was found dead on the main road; Mr. E. shot himself through the head; Mr. F. fell asleep in the bush and never woke; and Mr. G. was drowned in a waterhole. One officer was not quite so unfortunate as some of his friends. His score at the Crook and Plaid became so long that he began to pass that hotel without calling. Polly, the venerable landlady, took offence at such conduct, and was daily on the watch for him. When she saw him passing, which he always did at a rapid pace, she hobbled to the door, and called after him, "Hey, hey!" Then the gentleman twirled his cane, whistled a lively tune, looked up, first to the sky, and then to the right and left, but never stopped, or looked back to Polly behind him. At last his creditors became so troublesome, and his accounts so inexplicable, that he deserted the public service, and took refuge across the Murray.

Mr. H. fell into the habit of borrowing his collections to pay his gambling debts. He was allowed a certain number of days at the beginning of each month to complete his returns, and send in his cash. So he made use of the money collected during the days of grace to repay any sums he had borrowed from the public cash during the preceding month. But the cards were against him. One morning an Inspector of Accounts from Melbourne appeared unexpectedly in his office.

In those days there were no railways and no telegraphs. Their introduction was an offensive nuisance to us. The good old times will never come again, when we could regulate our own hours of attendance, take unlimited leave of absence, and relieve distress by having recourse to the Government cash. When Grimes was Auditor-General every officer was a gentleman and a man of honour. In the bush no bank account was kept, as there was no bank within fifty or a hundred miles; and it was an implied insult to expect a gentleman to produce his cash balance out of his pocket. As a matter of courtesy he expected to be informed by letter two or three weeks beforehand when it was intended to make an official inspection of his books, in order that he might not be absent, nor taken unawares.

When the Inspector appeared, Mr. H. did not lose his presence of mind, or show any signs of embarrassment. He said he was glad to see him (which was a lie), hoped he had had a pleasant journey through the bush; asked how things were going on in Melbourne, and made enquiries about old friends there. But all the while he was calculating chances. He had acquired the valuable habit of the gambler and speculator, of talking about one thing while he was thinking about another. His thoughts ran on in this style: "This fellow (he could not think of him as a gentleman) wants to see my cash; haven't got any; must be near five hundred pounds short by this time; can't borrow it' no time to go round' couldn't get it if I did' deuced awkward; shall be given in charge; charged with larceny or embezzlement or something; can't help it' better quit till I think about it." So apologising for his absence for a few minutes on urgent business, he went out, mounted his horse, and rode away to the mountains.

The inspector waited five minutes, ten minutes, twenty minutes. He made enquiries, and finding that Mr. H. had gone away, he examined the books and vouchers, and concluded that there should be a cash balance of more than four hundred pounds payable to revenue. He looked about the office for the cash, but did not find any. Then the police began to look for Mr. H., but week after week passed by, and Mr. H. was neither seen nor heard of.

There were only two ways of leaving South Gippsland that could be considered safe; one was by sea from Port Albert, the other by the road over the mountains. If anyone ventured to desert the beaten track, and tried to escape unseen through the forest, he was likely to be lost, and to be starved to death. The only man ever known to escape was an eccentric farmer, a "wandering outlaw of his own dark mind," as Byron so darkly expressed it. He deserted his wife one morning in a most systematic manner, taking with him his horse and cart, a supply of provisions, and all the money he was worth. A warrant for his arrest was issued, and the police were on the look-out for him at all the stations from Port Albert to Melbourne, but they never found him. Many weeks passed by without any tidings of the man or his team, when one day he drove up to his own gate, unhitched his horse, and went to work as usual. On enquiry it was found that he had gone all the way to Sydney overland, on a visit to an old friend living not far from that city. It was supposed that he had some reason for his visit when he started, but if so, he lost it by the way, for when he arrived he had nothing particular to say. After a