Tales of **THE AUSTRAL TROPICS ^'iJL':^: Edited by Cheryl Taylor The original of tiiis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924078412479 3 1924 078 412 479 The Colonial Texts Series School of English and Australian Scholarly Editions Centre, University College Australian Defence Force Academy, Canberra [CTS5 THE COLONIAL TEXTS SERIES GENERAL EDITORIAL COMMITTEE Harry Heseltine Paul Eggert Bruce Bennett CONSULTANTS TO THE COMMITTEE Joy Hooton Peter Shillingsburg (Textual Consultant) School of English and Australian Scholarly Editions Centre University College Australian Defence Force Academy Canberra THE COLONIAL TEXTS SERIES I . A Woman i Friendship by Ada Cambridge Edited by Elizabeth Morrison Bengala; or, Some Time Ago by Mary Theresa Vidal Edited by Susan McKernan 3 . Luke Mivers ' Harvest by N. Walter Swan Edited by Harry Heseltine 4. The Silent Sea by Catherine Martin Edited by Rosemary Foxton 5. Tales of the Austral Tropics by Ernest Favenc Edited by Cheryl Taylor TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS Ernest Favenc Edited by CHERYL TAYLOR UNSW PRESS '^'.•K 3f 3 ^5 %AC'' Published by University of New South Wales Press Sydney 2052 Australia Telephone (02) 9398 8900 Fax (02) 9398 3408 © Cheryl Taylor First published 1997 This book is copyright. Apart from any fair dealing for the purpose of private study, research, criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright Act, no part may be reproduced by any process without written permission from the publisher. National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication entry: Ernest Favenc, 1 845-1 908 Tales of the Austral Tropics. ISBN: 86840 381 4 I. Taylor, Cheryl M. (Cheryl Madeline), 1945 -. II. Title. (Series: Colonial texts series (Kensington, N.S.W.)) A823.1 Available in North America through: ISBS Portland, OR 97213-3644, USA Phone: (503) 287 3093 Fax: (503) 280 8832 Available in Singapore, Malaysia and Brunei through: Publishers Marketing Services Singapore 1232 Phone (65) 256 5166 Fax: (65) 253 0008 Typeset: Margaret McNally, ADFA Printed by Southwood Press, Marrickville, NSW CONTENTS General Editorial Foreword page vii Acknowledgements ix Introduction xi Favenc's Life and Literary Career Tales of the Austral Tropics Contemporary and Later Reception Text XV xxvi xxxi XXXV TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS I Note on the Texts 3 A Haunt of the Jinkarras 7 The Last of Six 15 A Cup of Cold Water 21 The Rumford Plains Tragedy 30 The Story of the Big Pearl 35 The Stolen Colours 42 Spirit-Led 51 Sandy Macpherson's Christmas Ride 65 The Spell of the Mas-Hantoo 74 Malchook's Doom-A Story of the Nicholson River 84 Tranter's Shot 90 Pompey 93 The Track of the Dead 96 The Missing Super 99 How the Reverend Joseph Simmondsen Lost His Character 103 Bunthorp's Decease 108 That Other Fellow. A Tale of the Seventies 125 The Mystery of Baines' Dog 138 A Lucky Meeting 151 vi CONTENTS Appendixes ' 59 Appendix I : Rolf Boldrewood's Preface i6o Appendix 2: A Bibliography of Favenc's Writings 1 63 Explanatory Notes ^°3 List of Editor's Emendations and Other Tables 207 List of Editor's Emendations 208 Table of Accidental Variants 210 Complete Collation of 'Tranter's Shot' 211 Illustrations: 74, 81, 108, no, 112, 125, 136, 138, 144 Maps : I . AustraUa and detail of the Gulf territory 1 84-6 2. Borneo I97 GENERAL EDITORIAL FOREWORD The Colonial Texts Series provides reliable texts of nineteeth century Australian literary works which have been out of print or difficult of access throughout most of the present century. The selection of titles is deliberately slanted towards works of fiction — novels and collections of short stories — because their length has militated even more than in the case of verse against their re-publication. Such texts reveal a range of colonial artistic achievement which has largely dropped from view. The significance of the titles chosen for publication derives from their power to communicate a fuller and richer under- standing of Australia's colonial culture than is otherwise avail- able: the nature of popular taste, the incidence and importance of serial fiction, the influences on Australia's colonial writers, the milieu which sustained, tolerated or rejected them. Accord- ingly the Introductions outiine relevant biographical, historical and critical contexts which the explanatory notes, placed after the main text, further detail; and, to the extent that manuscript and archival resources permit it to be done, a composition and production history of each text is also provided. Critical editions are not mere reprints. To have taken that easier and cheaper path would have been to accept as textually reliable the actions, whether intelligent and well-meaning or not, of all persons involved in producing the commercial editions of each work; and it would have been to forgo the clarifying prospects of each editor's investigation of the circumstances of the writing, pro- duction and reading of the work in its original contexts. A reliable text represents the work accurately and fully. To this end all potentially authorial forms of the text -manuscripts, proofs, serialisations and book editions, whether Australian or foreign — have been located and compared, although some works have extant only one state with authorial involvement. The form of the work which best preserves the author's practice in formal matters, particularly spelling and punctuation, is chosen as the viii GENERAL EDITORIAL FOREWORD base or copy-text. This is usually the earliest complete or published version of the work, but if necessary the copy-text is emended to represent it (and all such emendations are listed); however, in most cases the copy-text is reproduced in essentially unemended form. Authorial alterations and revisions, if any, are recorded in the apparatus at the foot of the page. Thus a literary work as presented in the Colonial Texts Series is neither mere reprint nor eclectic synthesis; it consists of the corrected text and the apparatus, which reports its alternative authorial forms. Distinctions between authorial and non-authorial variants are made when the editor has compiled a complete bibliographical record of the textual transmission. Alterations by scribes, type- setters, publishers, and others (and variant readings first occurring in posthumous editions) are not normally printed, but a historical collation is lodged in the Library of the Australian Defence Force Academy. Except as specified in the Introduc- tion or Note on the Text, the punctuation, spelling and style of the copy-text have not been regularised and so might appear at first to the modern reader as unfamiliar or inconsistent; how- ever, they reflect authorial or at least period practice. Where a serialisation provides copy-text, care is taken to indicate the manner in which the original instalments were presented. These endeavours are aimed at presenting a reliable text for a range of colonial works and at revealing the various contexts in which each work took shape and was read, thus helping to fulfil the primary aim of the Series of making a significant contribu- tion to the understanding of the literary culture of Australia's colonial period. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS I am very grateful to the many people who have generously donated their time and talents to this edition. The edition was first proposed by Harry Heseltine, who, with Bruce Bennett and Joy Hooton, read and commented on progressive drafts of the Introduction. I especially wish to thank Paul Eggert for his wise advice, patience, and detailed attention to both textual and critical matters, which have contributed significantly to the edition's final shape. I also wish to thank research assistants at James Cook Univer- sity of North Queensland - Noelene Kidd, Tina Langford, and Rosemary Dunn - for valuable help with the Explanatory Notes and with historical and textual research. Lindel Ryan assisted in locating items listed in the Bibliography. Patricia Barton and Helen Hewson consulted archives respectively at the Mitchell Library and the University of Sydney. Loes Baker of the Aus- tralian Defence Force Academy checked the textual apparatus. Margaret McNally formatted the text and prepared camera- ready copy. Robert Dixon, Tina Langford, Jocelyn McKinnon and Elizabeth Perkins commented on a section of the Introduc- tion. Librarians at James Cook University and at the Mitchell Library were unfailingly helpful and knowledgeable. I thank the librarians of the Mitchell and Fryer Libraries for permission to quote from manuscripts held in their archives, and the Mitchell Library for permission to reproduce illustrations from the Bul- letin. Funding was granted by University College, Australian De- fence Force Academy, by James Cook University of North Queensland and by the Australian Research Council. Peter Shillingsburg of the University of Mississippi devised the CASE programme used in collation, and provided instruc- tion on its application. Alison Davis, of the James Cook Univer- sity Computer Centre, assisted with the initial installation and operation of the programme. X ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS Jan Goodwin, of Camp Hill in Brisbane, a descendant of Bessie Favenc's sister, Helen, provided detailed information on her family, and copies of letters written by Bessie and Helen. For specific points of information I am grateful to the late Barry Andrews, to Victor Crittenden, Sylvia and Richard Kelso, Trevor Mack, Geoff Perrett and John Ritchie. Finally, I wish to thank both my husband. Norm, for his patience in treating computers and computer-phobia, and his courage in living with an editor, and my mother Madeline, for her untiring assistance and encouragement. CT December 1995 Introduction INTRODUCTION The body of Ernest Favenc's writing, mostly published in newspapers and read by ordinary men and women, offers acute if often unconscious insights into the fears and aspirations of Australians in the seminal period of the 1890s. The sample of stories edited in the present volume manifests key ideological trends of the decade in Australia and demonstrates that Favenc's fiction retains a popular literary appeal. The relegation of his writing to a half-life of official recognition and actual neglect in the century following the stories' publication is an accident of history which invites redress. The nineteen stories here critically edited for the first time appeared in either The Last of Six: Tales of the Austral Tropics (Sydney: Bulletin Newspaper Company, 1893),' or Tales of the Austral Tropics (London: Osgood, Mcllvaine, 1894).^ The title. Tales of the Austral Tropics, has been retained for the present edition, as representing the titles of both the original collections, and therefore probably the author's preference or one in which he acquiesced. The Last of Six was the third volume published in the Bulletin Series of short story and verse anthologies, following the collec- tion presented under the title of Edward Dyson's A Golden Shanty (1890), and Tales of the Convict System (1892) by 'Price Warung' (William Astiey). All but six of the stories in The Last of Six were repubUshed in Tales of the Austral Tropics. 'The Stolen Colours' and 'Bunthorp's Decease', were added to the later volume. Except for 'A Lucky Meeting', all stories were first published separately in the Bulletin between April 1890 and December 1892. The stories are presented here in the order of their chronological publication in the Bulletin. On 15 February 1890 over the pseudonym 'Delcomyn', Favenc published in the Bulletin a comic yarn about cannibalism entitled 'Long Jim's Appetite: A Back-Country Hair-Raiser'. This marked the beginning of an extraordinarily productive xiv INTRODUCTION period of three years, during which he contributed over fifty stories and sketches and two poems to the Bulletin, as well as poetry, stories, and a full-length serial to other publications. 'Long Jim's Appetite' was not Favenc's first contribution to the Bulletin: 'The Dead Hand' had been published as early as April 1 88 1, and other sketches and stories had followed, span- ning the period of the paper's notorious legal difficulties. By 1890 the Bulletin had achieved financial security and a wide circulation, and Favenc's fiction appeared alongside stories by 'The Banjo' (A. B. Paterson), Louis Becke, Randolph Bedford, Edward Dyson, Henry Lawson, 'Scotty the Wrinkler' (Philip Moubray) and 'Price Warung'. Favenc's contributions to the Bulletin gradually declined in frequency during the 1890s. His last Bulletin story appeared in January 1902, and his last other contribution in July 1905. Favenc's stories attest the flexibility in editorial principle praised by a number of commentators on the Bulletin in this period. 3 In their realistic, detailed evocations of an insistently Australian life-style, the stories conformed with J. F. Archibald's primary purposes as literary editor: to appeal to the bush as well as to the urban population, and to support the nationalist cause. The political agenda stemming from the Bul- letin^s nationalism included support for Federation, the Repub- lic and Protection, and rejection of British influence and Australia's ideological positioning within the Empire.'* These subjects were usually beyond the range of direct comment in Favenc's stories. Ironically, however, the emphasis on an Aus- tralian uniqueness is frequendy mingled in the stories with conventions and events borrowed from contemporary British romances, especially those by Rider Haggard. A nostalgia for the security of an imperial identity thus seems to have been enter- tained by Bulletin readers and subliminally catered for in edito- rial policy. In other respects Favenc's stories tended to coincide with the conservative end of the spectrum of views receiving ebullient support in the Bulletin. No sympathy is suggested for the theoretical socialism promoted in its leaders, and the few work- ing-class men depicted are governed by a respect for wealth and for individualist enterprise often associated with the middle class. On the question of women's rights and place, Favenc's INTRODUCTION xv Stories match the Bulletin's antagonism or indifference.' The paper's well-known opposition to Chinese and other immi- grants,^ motivated in theory by a defence of jobs for Australian workers, is paralleled by the unexamined racial prejudice of such stories as 'The Rumford Plains Tragedy' and 'The Story of the Big Pearl'. In their attitude to Aborigines Favenc's stories exceed even conservative aspects of the Bulletin's political pro- gramme. While the paper's comment on Aborigines was 'incon- sistent and intermittent',' on occasion displaying a strong sense of the injustice that had been done but mixed with paternalism, Favenc imported into his stories less enlightened attitudes which were recognisably those of the north Queensland frontier where he had lived as a young man. That Favenc's stories, despite or because of their ambiguous conformity with editorial policy, were generally well received by Bulletin readers is suggested by his continuing contributions to the paper. The republication of his Bulletin stories in anthologies to be distributed not only in Sydney but also in London confirms that during the nineties Favenc attained the status of a literary man, equal to his already estabUshed reputation as an explorer, historian and journalist.^ Favenc's Life and Literary Career' Ernest Favenc was born on 21 October 1845 at 5 Saville Row, Walworth, Surrey; the birth was registered at the parish church of St Mary Newington." His father was Abraham George Favenc, and his mother's name was Emma Jones. The family seems to have been middle-class: Abraham Favenc's occupation is given as 'merchant', and in 1845 Walworth was an area 'housing employers, clerks and artisans', in 'relatively large houses'." Favenc was educated at Temple College, Cowley, in Oxfordshire and also in Berlin." The reasons for this diversity of locale are not known; it may have been caused by Abraham Favenc's business interests. Favenc came to Australia in 1 863, accompanied by his sisters, Edith and Ella, and his brother, Jack.'^ After spending a few months in a 'commercial occupation"'' in Sydney, he moved as jackeroo to the cattle station of an uncle"' in the Kennedy district of north Queensland which was then undergoing European settlement. This was probably Telemon station, located on the xvi INTRODUCTION Flinders River north-west of Hughenden.'* Favenc also worked on stations further west, droving in the first cattle,"' and experi- encing the isolation and self-dependency of bush life which were later to feature in such stories as 'Sandy Macpherson's Christ- mas Ride'.'* In the sixteen years which Favenc spent in north and central Queensland, he continued to work on stations- usually, after he had gained experience, as superintendent. He reports that he spent four years 'overlanding'." 'A Drover's Diary', published in the Queenslanderhevween April and September 1876, humor- ously describes his laborious trip along the central Queensland coast northwards from the Calliope River, en route to a station on the upper Burdekin. Favenc was caught up in the enthusiasm generated by the gold strikes in north Queensland between 1 867 and 1871.^° He may also have mined for copper in Cloncurry.^' Favenc's diverse experience of outback life provides the sub- stance of much of his prose, poetry and fiction, including the stories edited in the present volume . Station superintendents are important characters in 'The Stolen Colours', 'Tranter's Shot', 'Pompey', 'The Missing Super' and 'How the Reverend Joseph Simmondsen Lost His Character' 'Malchook's Doom' and 'A Lucky Meeting' draw on Favenc's experience as a drover. The desire for gold or gems motivates ventures into the desert in 'A Haunt of the Jinkarras', 'A Cup of Cold Water' and 'Spirit-Led', while 'The Spell of the Mas-Hantoo' displays a technical knowl- edge of alluvial and shaft mining. Between 1871 and 1880 Favenc published fiction and poetry irregularly in the Queenslander, and may have been informally employed by that paper." Although still resident in the bush, he met his future wife, Bessie Matthews, in Brisbane some time before 1876.^' in 1878, Gresley Lukin, the proprietor and Hter- ary editor of the Queenslander, financed an expedition to survey a route for a railway line from Brisbane to Port Darwin. Details of this expedition survive in five separate accounts.^* Favenc was appointed leader, with G. R. Hedley as second-in- command, and S. C. Briggs as surveyor. After leaving Brisbane in July, they journeyed by Cobb and Co. coach to Blackall, where they assembled supplies, and rode on to Cork station on the Diamantina River. Here they were joined by Opal, a former native policeman. In September they reached the Herbert River INTRODUCTION xvii now the Georgina, which they followed as far as its junction with Ranken Creek in the Northern Territory. They continued north-west, discovering and naming Brunette Creek, Corella Lagoon, and several lakes, finally crossing to Cresswell Creek and naming Anthony Lagoon. In November they became stranded by water shortage on Cresswell Creek, and were forced to wait until thunder storms had dampened the country on their line of travel. After six weeks of anxiety and semi-starvation, they reached the Overland Telegraph Line north of Powell's Creek station on 12 January 1879. The proposed railway line was never built, but the Queenslander Transcontinental Expedition, as it came to be called, was seminal for Favenc's fiction and poetry, and often figures in his historical and geographical writing. The desert country profoundly attracted and repelled him. Dread of death by thirst is a constant theme, evoked in such poems as 'Dead in the Bush' and 'A Bush Tragedy',^' and in stories, most memo- rably 'A Cup of Cold Water'. Country west of the Nicholson, in the vicinity of Cresswell Creek, is the setting for the gruesome climax of 'Spirit-Led'. 'A Lucky Meeting' opens with a long description of a scene of death, drawing heavily on Favenc's reports of Corella Lagoon.^' The conclusion to 'That Other Fellow' is based on the most dangerous episode of the Queenslander Expedition, when, in attempting to press west- wards from Cresswell Creek, the party became separated and Favenc lost a much-loved horse.^' Ernest Favenc and Bessie Matthews were married at St John's Baptist Church, Ashfield, Sydney, on 15 November 1880. Bessie (Elizabeth Jane) was born in Whimple, Devon, on 22 November i860, the oldest of nine children of Jane Ashby and Benjamin Matthews. The family migrated to Queensland in 1 87 1-72, where Benjamin worked as a teacher for the Education Department. Ernest's and Bessie's daughter. Amy Eleanor, was born on 24 September 1881.^* Another child, their last, was stillborn, probably early in 1883.^' A letter (quoted in note 39) which Bessie wrote to her brother-in-law on the death of her sister, Helen, in November 1886, offering a home to her 18- month-old niece, Violet, suggests that the couple keenly felt this loss. xviii INTRODUCTION Favenc may not have married and moved to Sydney if he had not been sure of his new family's financial footing. The need for financial security is a leading priority of romantic bushmen m such stories as 'The Stolen Colours'. It accounts for the late marriages of many men in frontier societies, and specifically for the age difference of fifteen years between Favenc and his wife. Favenc's financial confidence was based on speculations in Northern Territory land. His manuscript diary of the Queenslander expedition, now in the Mitchell Library, is accom- panied by a sketch book containing a hand-drawn map of the upper Nicholson River in the Northern Territory. The stations, Hillingdon, nos i, 2 and 3, are marked out on the 'well-grassed ridges' and 'open box forest' to the south of the river. The name is similar to that of the station, Hillingford, which remakes the hero's fortunes in the serial, 'Jack Essingham; or the Graves of a Household'; it had been published in the Queenslander in 1 875 . Favenc was part-owner of Eva Downs, a property of 1 800 square miles located about a hundred miles east of Powell's Creek station.^" The township of Eva Downs still exists. Favenc acquired his share in Eva Downs, and probably Hillingdon, under arrangements made by the South Australian govern- ment.3' A private necessity to explore his properties may have been his main motivation in leading the Queenslander and other well-publicised expeditions into the Northern Territory. A newspaper advertisement of July 1 88 1 announced the sale of Eva Downs 'at a satisfactory price'. ^^ William Traill, managing editor of the Bulletin, was Favenc's partner, and with the pro- ceeds of £1000 he purchased a press and type-equipment while the Bulletin was establishing itself in new offices at 24 Pitt Street, Sydney. The two men had probably been friends since the 1 860s, when Traill worked on Queensland stations, or they may have met after 1875, when he became a j ournalist for the Brisbane Courier, the company which published the Queenslander. Traill later boasted to A. G. Stephens that Favenc had bought into Eva Downs on his advice. '^ Favenc thus had personal as well as literary connections with the Bulletin. Between 1 880 and 1 883 , he turned to journalism as a means of securing his family's financial future. He wrote most frequently for the Sydney Mail, contributing regularly during 1881 to topical commentaries by 'The Meddler'. ^'^ As the illustrated INTRODUCTION xix weekly version of the Sydney Morning Herald^ summarising news relevant to country readers, the Mail was an outlet suited to Favenc's knowledge and experience. In August and September 1882, he published there a series of articles, 'The Far Far North', describing a journey by steamer northwards along the east coast to Thursday Island, around the Gulf of Carpentaria to Normanton, overland to the Nicholson River and across the range and desert to Powell's Creek station. This was the beginning of a second major sequence of explora- tions. Favenc and the friend who accompanied him were drov- ing cattle, and their purpose was to establish stations, on their own behalf or on that of investors. ^^ During March to May 1 883, Favenc traversed this route again, accompanied by Harry and Caroline Creaghe. Favenc had business dealings with Harry Creaghe, again probably related to the development of stations, and had been commissioned to explore new districts for the South Australian government. Caroline's diary is a detailed record of this expedition, offering valuable independent confir- mation of the realities of outback life depicted in Favenc's fiction, and sometimes revealing aspects which he chose not to record. 3^ The explorers arrived safely at Powell's Creek station on 12 May. While the Creaghes followed the Telegraph Line north- wards, Favenc and two companions branched off north-east from Newcastle Waters, locating and exploring the headwaters of the Macarthur River, which they followed to the coast. They then returned due west to the Telegraph Line, arriving at Daly Waters on 15 July. The exploration of the Macarthur was difficult for Favenc, whose health was poor, and, who, as his journal suggests, was suffering from emotional exhaustion." Soon afterwards, he guided the Palmerston, a survey ship com- missioned by the South Australian government, to chart the navigable mouth of the Macarthur, and the Sir Edward Pellew group of islands.'* This voyage later formed the basis of 'A Tale of Vanderlin Island', first published in the Bulletin in August 1894. Following the publication in the Sydney Mail, in November and December 1883, of a detailed diary-like account of his overland expedition to the Macarthur River, there is a gap of over three years in Favenc's signed contributions to newspapers. XX INTRODUCTION Correspondence between Bessie and her sister Helen, who was on a station on the River Boyne near Gladstone, reveals that in April 1886 the family was living in Station Street, Petersham, Sydney, and that they were short of money. Favenc had been ill for some time.^' Like subsequent references to ill health, this may have been a euphemism for the drinking problem reported by Traill, which seems to have dogged Favenc's years in Sydney. Drunkenness is a frequent subject of his stories, sometimes presented with abhorrence, as in the portrait of Delaine in 'Spirit-Led', but also found in bush heroes such as Duncan Mclntyre and Joe Simpson. During the break in his activities as a journaUst, Favenc's energies were devoted to official publica- tions. A monograph. Western Australia, Its Past History, Its Present Trade and Resources, Its Future Position, was published in 1 887. The History ofAustralian Exploration, published in Sydney and London in 1888, was destined to become a classic. Favenc's literary promotion of Western Australia attracted favourable attention, and resulted in a commission to explore central regions of the colony with a view to pastoral settlement.''" This third major exploration, which proved to be Favenc's last, took place between March and June 1888. He and two compan- ions travelled by steamer from Melbourne. After disembarking at Geraldton, they set out north-east, at first through settled country. They soon reached the unexplored upper reaches of the Murchison, Gascoyne and Ashburton rivers, discovering excel- lent grazing land on tributaries of the Ashburton, and on one occasion venturing further east, into the 'flat and waterless' country of the interior.'*' Details of landscape and other aspects of this expedition were to figure in Favenc's later fiction, notably his Bulletin story, 'A Cup of Cold Water' .'*^ Favenc's explorations continued to provide an essential foun- dation for his fictional and anecdotal writing, including that published in the Bulletin. Since they often crossed districts previously unknown to Europeans, the expeditions were fruitful in other ways as well. Favenc's published and unpublished reports reveal that he was an accurate observer, who conducted painstaking and exhaustive examinations of land, such as that on the Macarthur and the Ashburton rivers, which he regarded as suitable for setdement. The honour of selection for the Golden Roll, bestowed on him shordy before his death by the Royal INTRODUCTION xxi Geographical Society, was therefore an appropriate gesture for the period.^ His expeditions also exemplify the real qualities of audacity and endurance often evoked in support of Australian pioneering traditions. The decade following Favenc's return to Sydney after his expedition into Western Australia in 1888 was his most produc- tive time as a writer. It corresponded, fortuitously and in re- sponse to editorial stimulation and support, with the antipodean Renaissance presided over by the Bulletin, from which a national literary identity was shortly to emerge. For part of this period Favenc was a member of the 'literary staff of the disreputable but commercially successful Evening News. One authority states that he joined the paper in 1887.** Literary pieces, which appeared in the News at the rate of one per issue, were generally unsigned, and no story or poem published between 1 887 and 1 894 can be definitely attributed to Favenc. A few signed works appeared after 1896 (see Appendix 2). Some fiction set in north Queensland may be his, and he may have helped to gather the hard news and stories of violence and atrocity which allowed the Evening News regularly to increase its circulation. Favenc remained in the paper's employment at least until October 1900.'*' After the break in his newspaper publications in the mid- 1880S, Favenc's writing first resurfaced in a prose sketch pub- lished in the Bulletin in February 1887.*' Further contributions to the Bulletin, ^e Australasian, and, occasionally, to the Queens- land Punch and the Sydney Mail followed. Six of the stories included in the present edition were published in the Bulletin at varying intervals between April and September 1890, and three appeared in the Christmas issue of that year. None was pub- lished in 1 89 1, and only two other stories and a poem by Favenc appeared in the Bulletin. Regular publication of the present stories recommenced in January 1892 and continued until May. Publication of Favenc's work again declined in the second half of the year, but three of the present stories were included in the Christmas issue of 1892. The pubUcation of the stories in irregular clusters suggests that Favenc submitted his contribu- tions in portfolios, rather than singly. Favenc was probably attracted to the Bulletin as a publishing venue by Archibald's generous and reliable payments and by his xxii INTRODUCTION encouragement of contributors, which must have appealed to Favenc's long-standing literary ambitions. In contrast with his employers on the Evening News, the Bulletin editors, while respecting commercial imperatives, encouraged contributors to regard themselves as authors. The editors' support for the literature published in their paper was implicit in the series of Bulletin books, designed to give the best work a more durable form. In Favenc's case the initial collection of his stories in The Last of Six undoubtedly enhanced his status as a professional writer. In 1 899 he arranged republication of further stories, first printed inthe Bulletinhctwcen 1890 and i895,inasecondcollection,jM)/ Only Murder and Other Tales. A serial published in the Queenslander in 1 890 was reprinted in 1 895 as an adventure book for boys, The Secret of the Australian Desert. Although Favenc's attitude to his verse was typically deprecatory,*' poems pub- lished in newspapers at varying intervals between 1 876 and 1 900 were collected and republished in 1905 in Voices of the Desert. Favenc's stance as a professional writer is important for the present edition, since it accounts for the highly detailed and comprehensive textual changes he made in preparing Bulletin stories for republication in The Last of Six and Tales of the Austral Tropics (described below). Consideration of the body of Favenc's writing located to date supports the conclusion that his association with the Bulletin did not represent a new departure in the style or content of his writing, so much as a heightening and concentration of elements already present. His contributions to the Queenslander and the Sydney Mail reveal that he had been a master of the bush yarn in the 1 870S and 1 88os. His already published work may even have given a lead to Archibald's promotion of this genre. The ele- ments of the supernatural, of melodrama, and humour, so prominent in the Bulletin stories edited here, were present in fiction which Favenc had been publishing since 1875. The Bulletin stories display a new-found acceptance of tragic event exemplified in the stark simplicity of such tales as 'Pompey', and conversely a willingness to exploit humour (for which Favenc had a real gift) in comedies of increased complexity, such as 'The Rumford Plains Tragedy'. But the rambling and complicated plots sometimes found in the early fiction do not recur. Thus INTRODUCTION xxiii Favenc's stories cannot by any stretch be seen as an 'invention' of Archibald and the Bulletin. On the contrary, his fiction, which by 1 890 had influenced the reading tastes of AustraHans for over a decade, almost certainly helped to shape the policies and values which made the Bulletin such a force in the development of a national literature. His personality must have had something to do with this. He was strong and handsome,*' naturally convivial, and popular.*' He seems to have blended easily into the crowd of Bulletin writers living in Sydney in the 1890s, and recollections and histories do not mention any incompatibility. He had a long- standing friendship with Louis Becke, who had also lived for a time in north Queensland.'" W. E. Fitz Henry, who joined the Bulletin staff in 1917, claims that 'Ernest Favenc and John Farrell swapped many a yarn' on the famous bench set up in the paper's outer office;'' and Manning Clark envisages Favenc accompanying Lawson and others to beer and prawn parties at Watson's Bay.'^ Favenc joined the Dawn and Dusk Club, a group of Bohemian writers and artists, soon after its foundation in 1898." In the early 1890s, however, when the stories edited here were first published, Favenc was vastly experienced in bush life, and a generation older than the rising young contributors to the Bulletin. It would have been natural for him sometimes to assume the roles of mentor and example. Extensive searching has brought to light little first-hand docu- mentation of his relationship with Archibald or the Bulletin during the 1 890s. Such evidence as survives suggests that, if relations were not invariably cordial, Favenc was nevertheless in a position to command the staffs attention.'* Correspondence now held in the Hayes Collection at the Fryer Library reveals that Favenc received continuing support from A. G. Stephens, who joined the Bulletin as sub-editor in 1 894. In a letter of 4 June 1897, Favenc responded with humorous reassurances to Stephens' concern, after his death had been misreported in a Queensland paper." On i November 1905, while Favenc was in hospital, Bessie wrote to Stephens, again in response to his sympathetic interest, thanking him for his review of Voices of the Desert, presumably a proof of the one published in the Bulletin on 2 November.'* She also replied to Stephens' offer to place an advertisement for the book. On 11 April 1906, while his latest xxiv INTRODUCTION history, The Explorers of Australia and Their Life Work, was in preparation, Favenc wrote to William Macleod, former artist and now managing director of the Bulletin, requesting portraits of John Oxley or Frank Gregory which may have been left over from the Picturesque Atlas of Australasia }^ This was a lavishly illustrated history and geography first published under Macleod's chairmanship in the i88os. Favenc also asked Macleod to request from Stephens 'a preliminary puff for his history. This appeared promptly in the Bulletin on 26 April. Finally, a postcard in Favenc's hand, dated 28 March 1907, and addressed to Stephens as editor of the Bookfellow, theatrically announces, 'Knocking off paper', presumably a resignation from the Bookfellow. ^^ Stephens' confidence in Favenc's abilities would therefore seem to have continued after Stephens left the Bulletin in 1 906, if he had invited Favenc to contribute to his new venture. However the matter is not clear for the files of the Bookfellow contain no work attributable to Favenc, and the reason for his abrupt withdrawal is not known. If the attributed writings so far located reliably reflect Favenc's productivity, a steady decline, especially in his produc- tion of fiction, is indicated from 1900. The quality and estab- lished themes of his writing remained unchanged towards the end of his life, although an element of prophecy, already present in the 1870s, was strengthened. The story, 'What the Rats Brought' (1903-04), foresaw the destruction of Sydney in 1919 by plague and earthquake, and a series of fantasies on Australian geography was published in the Bulletin.^'' The fantasies were subsidiary to the factual study of Australian geography which Favenc was conducting in this period. In 1 898 his New Standard Geography of Australasia had been set in type and proofs pulled, but the publisher, George Robertson, had not proceeded be- cause extensive revision was required. Favenc wrote a Preface to this work, and was presumably still working on it, in 1902. Selections were included in a booklet, The Physical Configura- tion of the Australian Continent, published in 1905. This drew also on geography which Favenc had learned while writing his History, and reasserted his belief that the desert could be con- verted to useful purposes. From March 1901, he toured New Guinea, the Solomon Islands and the New Hebrides, writing reports and commentaries which were published in the Mel- INTRODUCTION xxv bourne newspaper, the Australasian.'" In his last years, Favenc sought to alleviate financial insecurity by free-lance journalism and book publication. Bessie contrib- uted to the family income by her business competence and skill in craft embroidery. In 1 897 she initiated a course in embroidery for country women in the Sydney Stock and Station journal, and was still associated with the journal in November 1 905 .'" By 1 907 'Madame Favenc' was superintending David Jones' country order and needlework departments. She was still a departmental head in 1909, a year after Favenc died, and remained, with her daughter, in the Company's employment at least until 1913.^^ The ill health and alcoholism which had made Favenc's exploration of the Macarthur in 1883 arduous, and which had disrupted his writing and financial planning in the mid-i88os, recurred in the late 1890s and continued until his death. The newspaper which reported his departure for Melanesia in 190 1 stated that he had 'long been ill'. In May 1905 he was seriously ill in Royal Prince Albert Hospital,'^ and in November and December he was in St Vincent's Hospital at the point of death after breaking his thigh in a fall. The journalist who filed this report noted that Favenc was suffering from kidney, heart and liver diseases.'"* On i November Bessie wrote to A. G. Stephens: Mr. Favenc was the same when I saw him yesterday, at least the Dr. and nurse said their was no difference. But knowing him as I do, I think he would not have been so energetic in wondering why he could not die, had he not been a little better.'' In April 1906, Favenc wrote to WiUiam Macleod, 'I would call but my leg is not particularly sound yet, nor ever will be much better'." Favenc's death on 14 November 1908, in Lister Hospital, western Sydney, was widely reported and commented upon in Australian newspapers and magazines. He was buried in Waverley Cemetery.'' His obituary in the Bulletin poignantly contrasted his later years in the city with the vigorous mobility of his early bush work and explorations: For so many years he had been in broken health. The figure of a tall thin stooping man, drawn face, and short grey beard, making its way with the help of a stick, and strangely feeble steps down Kellett-street and William-street to the Park and xxvi INTRODUCTION city of a morning will have been noticed by many. But those who come that way to town will miss that figure now. Although incomplete, the listing of Favenc's published works in Appendix 2 reveals a writer who was committed to his profession, and who worked at it assiduously, despite major distractions and difficulties, for nearly forty years. Favenc ven- tured into many kinds of writing: poetry, history and geography, and long and short fiction for adults and children, taking advan- tage of opportunities to revise and recast his work. Some of his most powerful, tragic fiction and most successful comedy is included in the present volume, but other Bulletin stories, such as 'A Gum Tree in the Desert' and 'An Unquiet Spirit', are equally accomplished. The connections between Favenc's expe- rience and his fiction are unusually well documented and clearly defined. Except during his courtship and the early years of his marriage, his subject matter was derived from his public life, the rural masculinised world of isolated hard work. Re-creations of his drinking problem occur in the Bulletin stories, but the realities of private life and commercial existence experienced while the stories were being written are otherwise excluded. Favenc's most memorable fiction is therefore limited in subject matter, despite its volume, and certain real-life events and observations tend to recur (detailed in the Explanatory Notes). His fiction nevertheless encompasses authentic presentations of two themes traditionally seen as central to an Australian national identity: exploration and the bush. Tales of the Austral Tropics The many references to Austral, Australia, or Australasia in the titles of Favenc's books suggest that he understood his task as author as aiding in the construction of the new nation's vision of itself, and in asserting the uniqueness of that vision. Writing seems to have presented itself to him as an extension into the imaginative and intellectual spheres of his nation-building tasks as an explorer, station worker, miner and drover. The assertive repetitions in the titles may be taken further to suggest that the birth of the new nation was attended by a hardship of the spirit comparable with the physical labour of Favenc and other pio- neers: that a national identity finally emerged with difficulty INTRODUCTION xxvii from the confusion of contending visions which helped give the 1 890s their distinctive character.'' The need to 'name' AustraHa in the titles can be seen as a response to the same challenges which produced the hyperbolic nationalism of the Bulletin writers in whose company Favenc's work has sometimes been evaluated. In the Bulletin stories by Favenc edited in the present volume, the uniqueness of Australia is constantly asserted. Details are drawn both from the national image popularised in earUer literature and represented in the stories by references to bark- huts, cabbage-tree hats and stock-whips, and from Favenc's experiences, ranging from bush-pubs to hardship in the desert.'" The obsessive ugliness and horror of other stories, such as 'A Haunt of the Jinkarras', 'The Last of Six' and 'The Missing Super', comparable with Barbara Baynton's tales, bear witness to critical tensions in the emerging national identity. The independence of Favenc's representation of Australia is a strength of his Bulletin stories pointed out by commentators from 'Rolf Boldrewood' onwards (his Preface to the 1893 and 1894 editions appears as Appendix i). Beyond the details sup- plied from Favenc's experience, the stories responded to a range of cultural influences and economic imperatives. In their sensa- tionalism, their suspenseful and neat structures, their occasion- ally reassuring philosophy, and their topicality, they adhere to the genre of newspaper fiction. On a somewhat deeper level, they invite reading as examples of the popular romance fiction then being produced by such writers as H. Rider Haggard, Arthur Conan Doyle and Rudyard Kipling. Favenc's stories can be interpreted as an attempt to naturalise the assumptions of romance in a not particularly receptive environment, and to support the national identity by forging an imaginative solidar- ity with the ideals of the British Empire. In general, the stories can be read as a first-hand source of knowledge on the conscious and unconscious attitudes of non-indigenous Australians. The adherence of Favenc's stories to the conventions of newspaper fiction confirms that, despite the cheerful icono- clasm of the commentaries and engravings printed in the Bulletin at the beginning of the nineties, the editors inevitably succumbed to a desire to appeal to readers' established tastes. When Favenc's stories were extensively revised for pubhcation xxviii INTRODUCTION as an anthology in 1893, with the primary purpose of adapting newspaper copy for formal presentation in a volume, many of the topicalities associated with newspaper fiction were removed, but the stories' status as popular entertainment was unaffected. Subjects and techniques of British newspaper fiction had been transported into a colonial setting, to be mixed with the addi- tional excitements of an unexplored land and alien peoples. Sensationalism is the most obvious characteristic which the stories derive from their genesis as ephemeral popular entertain- ment. An intention to thrill readers is evident in such stock devices as decaying bodies and animated skeletons, and in such standard elements of plot as burial while still alive, entrapment in darkness, and lapses into cannibalism and madness. A signifi- cant divergence from narrative patterns constandy repeated in contemporary newspapers, however, is that human agency in evil and terror is often secondary to the agency of particular Australian landscapes, most often the desert, but also reefs, mangroves and caves. The stories follow the typology of news- paper fiction also in their recourse to the overriding agency of fate, suggesting a world view reassuring to a national identity still fluid and unformed. Fate's just purposes, unexplained while plots are unfolding, tend to be vindicated in neat, trium- phant closures. The humorous tales similarly display distinct and engaging shapes, based on the clever frauds they celebrate. The most successful example is 'The Rumford Plains Tragedy', the title of which perpetrates a deception on the reader parallel with that implemented by Ah Foo. 'Tranter's Shot', 'How the Reverend Joseph Simmondsen Lost His Character' and 'Bunthorp's De- cease' narrate comic frauds engineered by experienced bushmen, and the stories close at the point where the fraud becomes clear to the reader. Sometimes stock subjects of late- Victorian popular humour are exploited, such as the condition and actions of young men in love. If some readers of the Bulletin turned to Favenc's stories out of a passing desire for thrills and entertainment, for others the stories must have satisfied a taste for romance.'' A willingness to imitate popular fiction is evident in 'The Mystery of Baines' Dog', which transplants Sherlock Holmes' methods of 'scien- tific detection' into a bush setting, pointing out that the murder INTRODUCTION xxix to be solved 'was an enigma worthy of a first-class detective- story'.'^ Romances by Rider Haggard encouraged the multipli- cation in Favenc's stories of dead bodies and skeletons, left to be discovered later, together with clues as to their fate." 'A Haunt of the Jinkarras' seems to have been influenced by the climax to King Solomon 's Mines, in which the narrator, Allan Quartermain, and his friends are trapped in a treasure cave.'* These overt and specific imitations of widely-disseminated fiction may have reassured readers in Australia that their residence on the other side of the world had not after all jeopardised their identification with the explorers and pioneers who had first exported British culture. However this identification seems to have been only one of several contenders for the central ground of the evolving national consciousness. The stories rarely specify the nationality of their white male central characters, whether British or Austrahan, or report on years of residence in one country or the other. Instead, the characters exhibit a hodge-podge of features randomly drawn from Australian particularities and from romances read throughout the Empire. They resemble heroes of the Haggard school in their adventurous outdoor occupations, including exploration, but lack the altruistic motivation typical of such heroes, being avowedly practical men, 'looking for country' or searching for minerals. In this they revert to the experience of colonial Australia. The protagonists bear differing degrees of relationship to the romantic conventions of manliness or valour, gentlemanly sta- tus, and masculine friendship. Most of these conventions are exemplified in 'That Other Fellow', which is ultimately indebted for its plot to Dickens' A Tale of Two Cities.''^ As station-owners and superintendents the central male figures often function as leaders of an idealised pastoral society, which implicitly defends a hegemony over the newly-occupied land. As embodiments of morality and good sense, they are authorised to guide the reader's judgement of all other subjects of the fiction. Their authority is repeatedly reaffirmed by their tri- umph over challenges posed by the environment, or by cheats or criminals, or by disruptive notions introduced by newcomers. Only in 'The Rumford Plains Tragedy', in the inverted spirit of carnival, are white males (a banker, a station manager) defeated XXX INTRODUCTION by characters assumed to be inferior (a Chinese cook, a woman). Treatment of white women in the stories also affirms a mascu- Hne hegemony: signs of independence in women characters, such as Agnes EUiot in 'The Stolen Colours', are subsumed into the category of wifely traits; and divergent behaviour, such as taking revenge, practised by the French wife and mother in 'The Last of Six' , and by Mrs Brown in 'The Mystery of Baines' Dog' , is subjected to judgement by males.'' Favenc's representation of other races is, at bottom, defensive. The threat of incursion on the evolving Anglo-Australian iden- tity which these races posed is symboUsed by the occult power of the pearl in 'The Secret of the Big Pearl'." Possession of the pearl brings death to a Malay, some Melanesians, and a Chinese. The story therefore contains the alien power of the pearl within a circle of aliens, constantly deferring the moment when a man of British race, a Scot, becomes its victim. The major abridge- ment of the story for book publication in 1893 and 1894 perma- nendy confined the pearl's power to the circle of other races, a fact which suggests that this revision was, whether consciously or subconsciously, motivated by more than a quest for brevity. At the end of both versions, the pearl is submerged for ever in the sea. In 'A Haunt of the Jinkarras', the impenetrable blackness which threatens the narrator with madness and death reads like an allegory of colonial insecurities. This story exploits popular versions of evolutionary theory which had emerged following the publication in 1859 of On the Origin of Species by Means of Natural Selection. These encouraged a belief in the inevitable extinction of so-called primitive races, because of a natural incapacity to absorb the supposed benefits of European civilisa- tion. Darwin's theory was cited in support of classifications in which Aborigines and Negroes were placed at the foot of a scale, and Aryan Caucasians at the top. Raymond Evans has shown how, in Queensland, simplifications of Darwinian ideas were mediated through the press, and how contempt for non-Euro- pean races was confirmed in exchanges between newspapers and readers.'* Such notions were also disseminated through fiction. 'A Haunt of the Jinkarras' implies that the monkey-like race is the 'missing link' long sought by journalists and others, between Aborigines, seen as the least evolved race, and animals. INTRODUCTION xxxi In Favenc's stories sympathy for Aborigines and acknowl- edgements of colonial aggression are often countered by in- stances of Aboriginal violence. For example, 'Malchook's Doom' invites the inference that rape and torture frequently enforced colonial power. However, in the week following pub- lication Favenc contributed a letter to the Bulletin in which he recalled how Aborigines had attacked a sleeping camp of white men;" and in 'Malchook's Doom', 'Pompey' and 'The Missing Super', Aboriginal violence is associated with unnatural horror. In Favenc's fiction as a whole it is always defeated. The stories edited in the present volume also touch on the delicate but pervasive issue of sexual Uaisons between colonists and Aboriginal women. The tragic conclusion of 'Pompey' sternly endorses the official denunciation of such relationships, but 'How the Reverend Joseph Simmondsen Lost His Charac- ter' is tolerant of relationships conducted in remote parts, beyond the knowledge of Church and State. Both stories were solidly founded on Favenc's first-hand knowledge of bush life.*° Contemporary and Later Reception Subscribers to the Bulletin between 1 890 and 1 892 were the most numerous and probably the most appreciative readers of the stories edited in the present volume. Reliable circulation figures for the early 1 890s are not available.*' However, the Bulletin was prepared to boast, on the same page which contained Favenc's 'The Story of the Big Pearl', that it was 'the only paper sold by runners in the streets of every Australasian capital' and 'the most widely-circulated of all papers published south of the equator'. It went on to point out: 'A paper which is at once the most popular city publication and the organ of the inteUigent bushman must indeed be broadly based'.'^ Allowance should be made for the hyperbole traditional in newspaper advertise- ments, and for the Bulletin's bombastic style. These claims nevertheless speak well for the size and geographical extension of the stories' first audience. Such evidence as can be adduced from newspaper reviews and hints of the rate of sale suggests however that this success was not repeated when the stories were collected and republished in The Last of Six and Tales of the Austral Tropics. Reviewers in the Sydney Mail and the Queenslander, where Favenc had formerly xxxii INTRODUCTION been employed, recommended The Last of Six without having read it, on the authority of 'Boldrewood's' Preface and on their knowledge of Favenc's bush experience and other writing. Similar puffs appeared in the Sydney Morning Herald and the Australian Star?^ Only the Daily Telegraph reviewer wrote from an informed and empathetic perspective: [The stories] present with force and vividness, as well as with the accuracy arising from long contact and keen observation, striking pictures of parts of Australia unfamiliar to most of its inhabitants; they tell, sometimes with remarkable power, of incidents such as happen in wild places when human hearts are stirred by strong passions, and of weird imaginings that move the minds of lonely men.*'' Tales of the Austral Tropics was well reviewed in London, the place of publication. A reviewer in the Spectator, who may not have read the stories, accepted their Australian authenticity on the basis of 'Boldrewood's' Preface. *' An Athenaeum reviewer welcomed the stories, which he had certainly read, in terms of contemporary heroic idealism, but also from a personal perspec- tive: There is a quality which Mr. Favenc has in common with Mr. Kipling, a large-hearted optimism, which is not blind to the essential grit and neighbourliness that make heroes of the roughest and wildest men in times of emergency, and that brings out all their best qualities when they are most needed. Thus, although so many of the stories involve tragic circum- stances, it is a book which all in all increases one's respect for one's fellow men, and refreshes the mind wearied with analyti- cal straw-splitters and anaemic enthusiasts.*' The reviewers' uniformly warm approval should not be taken as evidence that a mass of readers sought out and enthusiastically consumed The Last of Six and Tales of the Austral Tropics. It suggests rather that professional journalists and editors wel- comed the collections on a number of grounds, one of which was merit.*' The need for caution in interpreting the reviews is confirmed by evidence relevant to the rate of purchase of The Last of Six. (No evidence has been discovered as to the purchasing of Tales INTRODUCTION xxxiii of the Austral Tropics.) Of earlier Bulletin books, the centennial volume, The History of Botany Bay (1888) by 'Arthur Gayll' (Frank Donohue) probably sold well over 20,000 copies, while salesof^ Go/«?e«5Aa«rj/(i89o)reached 15,000 after eightyears. An estimate of the print run of The Last of Six would then be, say, 10,000 copies but could have been less.*' Copies of the first run were still unsold in 1 90 1 , when, together with Tales of the Convict System, they were advertised in The Bulletin Story Book, edited by A. G. Stephens, at the reduced price of sixpence. Fitz Henry implies that in 19 17 he read a copy of The Last of Six which had been gathering dust in the 'Tomb' of written-off volumes at the Bulletin office.*' These particles of information confirm what the silence of other historical sources also suggests, namely that The Last of Six achieved only moderate success with the reading public. The publishing history of The Bulletin Story Book (Sydney: Bulletin Newspaper Company, 1901 ), which included 'How the Reverend Joseph Simmondsen Lost His Character' as one of sixty-four stories by leading Bulletin writers, provides a happier postscript. This collection, a product of A. G. Stephens' aspira- tion to foster a national literature, was a publishing success and was soon transformed, as its editor had hoped, into a literary landmark. The first edition of nearly four thousand copies was sold out'" and a second impression produced within eleven months.'" As a result of its inclusion in The Bulletin Story Book, Favenc's story, under the title 'The Parson's Blackboy', was republished in further collections in 1928, 1951 and 1963, and the original collection was reproduced in facsimile in 1973 (see Appendix 2 for details). More than any other single factor, the continuing republications of 'The Parson's Blackboy' sustained Favenc's marginal presence in the Australian literary conscious- ness. Successive histories of Australian literature since the 1940s have provided summaries of Favenc's life and work, focussing on his Bulletin stories, Voices of the Desert, The Secret of the Australian Desert, and The History of Australian Exploration.'^'' References to some or all of these works occur in E. Morris Miller, Australian Literature: A Bibliography to 1938 (1940, revised 1956), Colin Roderick, An Introduction to Australian Fiction (1950), H. M. Green, A History of Australian Literature, xxxiv INTRODUCTION (1961, revised 1984),'' the Oxford Companion to Australian Lit- erature (1985) and The Oxford Literary Guide to Australia ( 1 987). Cecil Hadgraft wrote briefly but perceptively on Voices of the Desert and My Only Murder and Other Tales in his State centen- nial booklet, Queensland and Its Writers ( 1 959),'* but did not refer to Favenc in \as Australian Literature: A Critical Account to igss (i960). Favenc's work was not mentioned in Barry Argyle's^w Introduction to the Australian Novel 1 830-1 gso (1972), nor in K. L. Goodwin's y4 History of Australian Literature (1986). Later reminiscences and cultural histories of the 1 890s have compared Favenc with other Bulletin contributors, or have commented on his friendship with one or another writer. They have thus sustained a tradition of contextual reference which was already in place by 1 899.'' Brief commentaries from speciaUsed perspec- tives occurred in T. Inglis Moore, Social Patterns in Australian Literature (1971), J. J. Healy, Literature and the Aborigine in Australia: /770— 7975 (1978) and Suzanne Falkiner, The Writers' Landscape: Settlement (1992).'^ My monograph. The Last Ex- plorer (1983), summarised factual research on Favenc's life and writing, but did not attempt to evaluate his literary achievement or cultural significance. Favenc thus remained on the roll-call of Australian authors, but was hardly ever mentioned in the central critical debates conducted in journals and book-length studies of eras and themes. The only exception was J. J. Healy's article, 'The Lemurian Nineties', published m. Australian Literary Studies in 1978, which drew attention to The Secret of the Australian Desert and 'A Haunt of the Jinkarras' as significant expressions of contemporary interest in the mythical lost continent of Lemuria." In 1988 Fiona Giles, and in 1 991 John Docker, briefly referred to and extended Healy's view.'* Favenc invited recognition as an explorer as well as a writer. However in the half-century following his death he was remem- bered by schoolchildren and adults in Australia less as an explorer in his own right than as an historian of exploration." Since the 1 950s, this achievement too has largely been forgotten, replaced by newer histories of the founding of European Aus- tralia. Facsimile editions of The History of Australian Exploration produced in 1967 and 1983 nevertheless testify to a continuing minority interest in this area of his accomplishment. INTRODUCTION xxxv Text Collation of versions of the stories by Favenc edited in the present volume reveals sequential layers of detailed alteration to both words and punctuation. Most of the stories were exten- sively altered between their publication in the Bulletin and their appearance in The Last of Six (hereafter, Syd; no manuscripts or other pre-publication materials are extant.) It is very probable that most of the alterations in wording were made by Favenc, but in the absence of external evidence this cannot be regarded as certain. One person in Favenc's circle interested enough in the stories and skilled enough to make some of the changes was Bessie Favenc. In 1897 a commentator claimed that Ernest and Bessie routinely collaborated in the writing and illustrating of stories. '°° The claim is supported by an exercise book in the Mitchell Library (MS. B 741), containing 'A Romance of Kangaroo Point', written in Bessie's hand, and 'The Miner's Plate' in Favenc's hand. 'A Romance of Kangaroo Point', which is a satiric comedy in an urban setting familiar to Bessie, was printed in the Queenslander in 1876 and ascribed to Dramingo, a pen- name used by Favenc. However, the possibility that she was acting as his amanuensis in this case cannot be ruled out, nor is there documentary evidence to show that her collaboration continued beyond the 1870s. Toother person with the aptitude and interest to have at least contributed to changes made to The Last of Six was the editor of the Bulletin, J. F. Archibald. Archibald's habit of altering, especially of abridging and condensing, copy submitted to the Bulletin is well attested."" It is not known whether he gave such attention to material assembled for the volumes, including The Last of Six, published before he placed A. G. Stephens in charge of book production for the Bulletin. Extensive searching of the relevant archives has neither confirmed the possibility of Archibald's intervention in The Last of Six nor allowed it to be discounted. It is nevertheless difficult not to attribute to the author some major additions made to the stories. These include sentences and paragraphs added to 'That Other Fellow""^ and an intro- duction newly written for 'A Cup of Cold Water': xxxvi INTRODUCTION A Silent and gloomy man. For a man of wealth, who, at one time, had been noted for his social qualities and his hospitality, Marten was looked upon with some httle wonder by those who lived in his neighbourhood. People spoke of his solitary habits and the frightened, hunted look he always had in his eyes. Rumour even said that that stalwart and attentive man-servant of his was, in reality, a keeper. Marten was a man whom vengeance had overtaken in this world and he could never forget it. (p. 21) Even more clearly attributable to Favenc is the new, abbreviated ending which replaced chapter ii of the Bulletin version of 'The Story of the Big Pearr."°3 Given, then, the high likelihood of Favenc's active participa- tion in the preparation of the stories for publication, it is plausible to attribute to him other changes to The Last of Six, evidently made on the ground of aesthetic preference. Examples of such changes are the substitutions of 'denizens' for 'occu- pants' and of 'her companions' for 'the men' in 'The Last of Six' (pp. 15, 19: see foot-of-page apparatus). Small elaborations are added to the dialect of the Chinese narrator in 'The Rumford Plains Tragedy' (pp. 32, 34). In 'How the Reverend Joseph Simmondsen Lost His Character', changes seem designed to enhance humour by insisting on the clerical status of the central character. '"^ An experiment with present-tense narration occur- ring near the beginning of 'That Other Fellow' (p . 1 27) is further evidence supporting authorial involvement in the 1893 collec- tion. The tendency of the 1893 revisions to shorten some stories by excisions of up to several paragraphs,'"' and, through the substi- tution of the new ending, to shorten by nearly a half 'The Story of the Big Pearl', suggest the possibility that some of the impetus to edit, and perhaps some of its implementation, steimned from Archibald. That Favenc himself nevertheless possessed the capacity and interest to carry out syntactical and granmiatical revisions of the kind found in most of the stories in The Last of Six is generally supported by his level of education and pub- lished writings. His letter to 'Bolger' (see note 54) suggests that he was keenly interested in the impression made by his writings, and that he at least sometimes insisted on revising proofs. In the Bulletin of 20 July 1905, he commented: INTRODUCTION xxxvii Notice the little, affected mannerisms in the M. S. of writers. As a rule, it is young writers who affect them — writers who have never really done enough writing to acquire mannerisms. For instance, some never dot an "i" or cross a "t" — a very annoying piece of affectation. Some never write the word "and," but use some mysterious Chinese sign instead. Some never punctuate, or do it so carelessly that the marks are scarcely visible. Some carefully punctuate, but affect to ignore the use of capital letters. But the affectation of illegible handwriting is the most common, and does the most to prevent the proof-reader ever getting anything better than a back seat in the Heavenly King- dom. Two of the worst offenders in this respect that I ever knew were, however, old hands. They both wrote a paw that looked like a cat-fight, and ever since seeing it I have had an augmented respect for the compositor. The man who could find a meaning in these fearsome hieroglyphics could find the North Pole any morning before breakfast. Both these amazing persons were well-known Bulletin contributors. Yet with all his ingenuity there are three words in our language that always undermine the compositor's inteUigence. The first is "lovely"; every com- positor and reader agree, dead against the context, that it must be "lonely". Then there is "doze," that is always rendered "dose," even though you print it, as I have done before now. Lastly, there is "cheery"; no man with type in his hand can sleep soundly o' nights unless he has made it "cherry." Beyond this I have nothing but grateful feelings towards compositors, and hope to meet the whole tribe in Heaven, (p. 31) Favenc's handwriting was legible and regular. Nevertheless this passage bears the impress of personal experience. Favenc clearly had an intelligent interest in the processes of printing. More specific support for Favenc's participation in minor editorial changes to The Last of Six is found in his short story, 'Corporal Frank', held among manuscripts corrected by Stephens (ML, MS. 2547), and probably to be dated to 1894.'°* This contains many corrections in Favenc's hand which elimi- nate verbal repetition, increase narrative and descriptive preci- sion, and render the order of phrases more logical. Two of Favenc's changes substitute the word 'companion' for earlier readings, a revision similar to one mentioned above to 'The Last of Six', and to 'The Track of the Dead' (p. 98). In the manuscript of 'Corporal Frank' there are only two changes in Stephens' xxxviii INTRODUCTION hand, which replace a casual construction with more formal wording. No published version of 'Corporal Frank' has been located. However the possibility that stories printed in The Last of Six may also have received a collaborative revision cannot be ruled out. The textual alterations in The Last of Six are consistent enough to suggest that changes were made at least partly to render the stories acceptable to readers who expected the decorums of book presentation, rather than those of magazines, to be observed. Among journalistic elements moderated or removed were pro- fanity and language tending to gratuitous or over-wrought horror and sentimentality.'"' References which would have be- trayed original publication in Christmas issues were deleted, as were references to recent events such as the wreck of the Quetta, and to topical issues such as an Australian republic.'"* While the romance of remote regions, a leading interest, was only margin- ally affected by the revision, "^ brief local or provincial expres- sions and references were often eliminated or explained."" These changes further suggest that publication in a volume had moderated Archibald's tactics for courting readers in the coun- try, in favour of appealing to conventional urban tastes. The review in the Daily Telegraph praised the collected stories for their accurate representation of 'parts of AustraUa unfamiUar to most of its inhabitants' (p. 3). The editing of The Last of Six accordingly made a sporadic effort to limit racism."' Infelicities, especially repetitions of words and tautologies, as well as illogicalities, and imprecisions of expression were often removed."^ Unneeded words and unconnected ideas were sometimes eUminated or amended. "^ Grammatical errors were corrected. "'• Sometimes more formal wording was substituted for simpler or colloquial expressions used in the Bulletin."^ On the other hand, poetic-archaic usages were randomly added or removed, apparently without reference to a criterion."' Given Favenc's probable alteration of the wordings of stories republished in 1893, it is likely that he would also have contributed to the numerous changes made to punctuation. The surviving manuscripts and typescript of work Favenc corrected in preparation for other publications reveal a predilection for semi-colons in the original script and a willingness to make INTRODUCTION xxxix minor corrections and alterations, and especially to add commas. ' '' Holograph texts not intended as printer's copy, such as the diary ofthe Queenslander expedition (ML, MSS. B882-4), are, on the other hand, lightly punctuated. The changes made to punctuation in The Last of Six show regularities, but also appear to be based on an intelligent, even sensitive, understanding of the texts. They do not result from the uniform imposition of a house-style: hyphens and exclama- tion marks for example are irregularly and sometimes judi- ciously added and removed. The general tendency is to increase the punctuation, in parallel with what the surviving manuscripts and typescript suggest was Favenc's practice. The addition of commas is the most consistent trend of the punctuation changes, but it is not regular, since correctly or acceptably positioned commas are also removed. Commas are inserted for the usual purposes of marking off phrases,"^ and before and (less often) after 'and'. Semi-colons are sometimes replaced by commas or full stops, indicating that an authorial habit was under scrutiny, probably by Favenc himself The possibility of collaborative revision and the difficulty in that case of distinguishing Favenc's alterations to The Last of Six from those of his helper or mentor cautions against the produc- tion of an eclectic reading text appealing to the criterion of final authorial intention. Moreover the revisions adjusted each story to a new audience, and thus were not undertaken only in relation to the work itself (if there is such a thing) as is assumed in eclectic copy-text editing. The editorial approach adopted is discussed below. That the London collection, Tales of the Austral Tropics (here- after, Ei), was derived from the Sydney collection and was not an independent selection from Favenc's Bulletin stories is shown by the retention of the earlier sub-title as title for the new volume, by the reprinting of 'Rolf Boldrewood's' Preface, by the inclusion among the thirteen stories comprising Tales of the Austral Tropics of eleven formerly printed in The Last of Six, and by resemblances between the positioning of the stories in the two volumes. ' '« Newspaper reviews reveal that The Last of Six was in print by July 1893, while publication of Tales of the Austral Tropics was announced in the Athenaeum and the Spectator on 26 May 1894."° A sufficient interval therefore existed for Osgood, xl INTRODUCTION Mcllvaine & Co. to have based the texts of stories selected for repubhcation on a copy of The Last of Six. This is more likely than that the London versions used marked-up cuttings of the stories from the Bulletin, the probable setting-copy for the Sydney collection. The very few readings in which the London edition agrees with the Bulletin version against readings of The Last of Six can be explained by accident or by the intrusion of broadly-operating factors."' The impetus to revise was strong in the Sydney edition of 1893. In the London edition this impetus is less evident, and stories republished from 1893 substantially reproduce the re- vised texts. The stories printed in Tales of the Austral Tropics without the resource of revised Sydney versions - 'The Stolen Colours' and 'Bunthorp's Decease' - confirm the weakening of the impetus for revision in 1894. Only 'Bunthorp's Decease' changes the wording of the Bulletin text from which it would have been set, apparently as the result of inadvertence or edito- rial decision.'" Other alterations in the two stories are to punctuation, or correct obvious errors,"' or introduce new compositor's errors.'^'' Nevertheless, minor copy-editing of the 1893 texts was car- ried out on all stories republished in 1 894. Some of this work can be attributed to agents of the publishing house: for example, changes to wording and punctuation designed to explain the text or to make it otherwise accessible for an English readership,'^' and matters of house or volume style, such as the regularising of exclamation marks and capital letters, the spelling out of num- bers, and the enclosing of the names of ships in single inverted commas.'^* Newly introduced typesetting errors can be attrib- uted confidendy to the publisher or printer,'^' although some changes, especially omissions, might be either errors or inten- tional revisions. '^^ Irregular changes to punctuation, including the addition or omission of commas and hyphens, are found in all of the republished 1 894 texts and can be explained as a normal consequence of the re-setting of type by a different printer. In Tales of the Austral Tropics there is also a small group of changes to wording, occurring in all the republished texts except 'Tranter's Shot', 'The Parson's Blackboy' and 'A Lucky Meet- ing', and falling into sub-categories of what might be called aesthetic and technical revisions.'^' These minor and infre- INTRODUCTION xli quent, but continuing, alterations to wording may have origi- nated with Favenc. It could be urged that Favenc is unlikely to have closely revised his stories again late in 1893 or in 1894, soon after the major revisions carried out for the publication of 77!^ Last of Six. However, Favenc may have been sufficiendy impressed by the prospect of London publication to have sought further to im- prove his work. Alternatively, the act of rearranging the stories, if indeed he did it, and of passing on to Osgood, Mcllvaine & Co. the Bulletin versions of 'The Stolen Colours' and 'Bunthorp's Decease', may have reawakened his interest in the collection as a whole. Nevertheless the objection must be allowed some force: his involvement in this stage of the text is unlikely to have been detailed, and probably took the form of a cursory reading only. Since no external evidence has been found to eliminate the possibility of Favenc's participation in the minor revisions to wording carried out for the republication of 1 894, these revisions ought not, on balance, to be disregarded. Thus they are recorded as described below. Of the stories printed in the collections, only 'How the Rever- end Joseph Simmondsen Lost His Character', retitled 'The Parson's Blackboy' after its first publication in the Bulletin, was again republished in Favenc's lifetime. The Bulletin Story Book (hereafter, Syd2) once again used the 1893 Sydney collection as setting-copy, precisely reproducing minute alterations found in this version. The text never replicates a reading of the original Bulletin version independently of the versions in the collections, and changes to punctuation made in the 1894 London version are not retained. '3° In 190 1, alterations took the form of regular and irregular changes to punctuation and spelling,'^' and of minor changes to wording which enhance meaning or expres- sion in a manner within the competence of either a skilled editor or the author. "3^ A reference to 'the reverend Mr. Wriggle, the West Australian missionary' was omitted (p. 107, below), prob- ably because contemporary readers no longer recognised the object of the satire. Again, these changes to wording are recorded. Beyond the textual variants discussed, changes in the physical presentation of the stories in their main stages of production xlii INTRODUCTION reveal a trend away from the popular and ephemeral towards the exclusive and permanent. Increasing attention is paid to the expectations of urban readers. In the Bulletin the stories are usually arranged around political and comic cartoons, and accompanied by advertisements for such items as electric hair curlers, baking powder, gentlemen's outfitters, patent 'fairy' lamps (The Burglar's Horror), and Wolfe's Schnapps. Illustrations by Percy F. S. Spence and Frank P. Mahony in Christmas issues capture the stories' physi- cal ambience and mood (reproduced below). In The Last of Six the sense of transience and superficial appeal is lessened by volume format, but commercial concerns are cultivated by paperback format and pages of advertisements on front and back fly leaves for liquor, tea, pianos, a cure for 'Opium Habit, Drunkenness and Neurasthenia' , baking powder, and the Bulletin. Typography is cramped, and short rules at the end of each story are the only decoration. A price of 'One Shilling', standard for the Bulletin series, is printed on the front cover. By contrast. Tales of the Austral Tropics went on sale for three shillings and sixpence, 'Crown 8vo, cloth', smartly bound in blue, tooled in gold, with an insignia of a flying horse. The print is generously leaded, and each story is introduced by a separate half-title-page, with an ornamental use of initial drop capitals. The only advertisements, at the back of the volume, are for companion titles in the series: 'Short Stories by British Authors'.'" The Bulletin Story Book embodied Stephens' nationalist agenda, passionately expounded in the Introduction, '^^ in thoughtful editing procedures. An alphabetical index of con- tributors and a concluding section of substantial biographical notes complemented the listing of stories. The volume was priced at five shillings and was carefully produced, hardback, in cloth binding, with decorated endpapers. Type is generously spaced and ornamented. There are six pages of advertisements for Bulletin publications.'" Favenc's stories were substantially complete at the time of their first separate publication in the Bulletin, which would have been set, in each case, directly from the author's manuscript. As no manuscripts of stories printed in the two collections have been INTRODUCTION xliii located, the Bulletin versions have been selected as copy-texts for this edition. They have been transcribed from photoprint en- largements of microfilm of the newspaper, and the transcrip- tions checked against hard copy. The copy-text selected for 'A Lucky Meeting', which did not receive separate publication, is the version in The Last of Six. The copy-texts are emended only in case of obvious error (see List of Editor's Emendations). The intention is to reproduce as far as practicable for the reader the colloquial immediacy which the stories incorporated in their original publication, and also to reveal the processes of revision later employed by Favenc to render their narratives more suit- able for book publication, more grammatical, and more precise and aesthetic in expression (according to the standards of the day). Accordingly, the foot-of-page apparatus in the present edition records all variant wordings from republications in 1 893 (as Syd), 1894 (as Ei), and variant wordings introduced into 'The Parson's Blackboy' in 1901 (as Sydz). The reader should bear in mind that the impUcit attribution of variants from Syd to the author is very probable rather than conclusive, and that attribution to him of variants from Ei and Syd2 is problematical. Variant wordings in these versions considered by the editor as less likely to have originated with Favenc are marked in the apparatus with an asterisk. The apparatus also records changes made to punctuation, capitalisation, hyphenation and spelling in Syd, because of the probability that Favenc contributed to them. The extent of his contribution cannot now be determined, and the apparatus does not attempt to distinguish authorial from non-authorial acci- dental variants, except in the case of errors. Errors in accidentals unlikely to be the work of the author are marked with a dagger (t). Variants in punctuation and spelling appearing in Ei and Syd2 are not recorded, since Favenc's responsibility for them is a far less likely explanation than the multiplying interventions of compositors and publishers' editors. By way of a sample, a complete collation of 'Tranter's Shot' is provided on p. 21 1 and a complete collation of all the stories has been lodged at the Austrahan Defence Force Academy Library. 'Rolf Boldrewood's' Preface to the Sydney collection of 1 893, together with variants in its printing in the collection of 1 894, is reprinted in Appendix i . xliv INTRODUCTION The printing history of Tales of the Austral Tropics testifies to Favenc's changing understanding of the stories and also to his sustained professionalism and that of his collaborators in the pubUshing houses, as they adapted the stories for readerships firstly more urban and then more exclusively British. The record of the stages of revision therefore offers a microscopic focus on the crossovers of the authorial, commercial and the broader imperial-ideological dimensions of Australian popular culture in the 1890s. Notes Only a short form of citation is given for Favenc's published writings. They are listed in full in Appendix 2 in chronological order of publication. Newspaper or periodical publications by others can be assumed to have been published anonymously if no author is given. 1 See George Mackaness and Walter W. Stone, The Books of the Bulletin i88o-igs2: An Annotated Bibliography (Sydney: Angus & Robertson, 1955), pp. 9-10, 50. The stories printed in The Last of Six, in order, were: 'The Last of Six', 'A Cup of Cold Water', 'A Haunt of the Jinkarras', 'The Rumford Plains Tragedy', 'Spirit-Led', 'Tranter's Shot', 'The Spell of the Mas- Hantoo', 'The Track of the Dead', 'The Mystery of Baines' Dog', 'Pompey', 'Malchook's Doom: A Nicholson River Story' (original Bulletin title: 'Malchook's Doom-A Story of the Nicholson River'), 'The Cook and the Cattle-Stealer' {Bulletin: 'Sandy Macpherson's Christmas Ride'), 'The Par- son's Blackboy' {Bulletin: 'How the Reverend Joseph Simmondsen Lost His Character'), 'A Lucky Meeting', 'The Story of a Big Pearl' (Bulletin: 'The Story of the Big Pearl'), 'The Missing Super', 'That Other Fellow'. 2 The stories printed in Tales of the Austral Tropics, in order, were: 'A Cup of Cold Water', 'The Rumford Plains Tragedy', 'A Haunt of the Jinkarras', 'Tranter's Shot', 'Spirit-Led', 'The Mystery of Baines' Dog', 'The Hut- Keeper and the Cattle-Stealer' [Bulletin: 'Sandy Macpherson's Christmas Ride'), 'The Parson's Blackboy', 'A Lucky Meeting', 'That Other Fellow', 'The Stolen Colours', 'Bunthorp's Decease', 'The Story of a Big Pearl'. 3 E.g. Douglas Stewart, Writers of the Bulletin, 1977 Boyer Lectures (Sydney: Australian Broadcasting Commission, 1977), pp. 14-22; Patricia Rolfe, The Journalistic Javelin: An Illustrated History of the Bulletin (Sydney: Wildcat Press, 1979), pp. 69-79. 4 E.g. on 2 May 1891 the Bulletin compared the American War of Independence with contemporary Australian conditions (p. 6), and it opposed what it regarded as Imperial aggression in Zululand in 1888 and in the Matabele War of 1893 (see Peter Cady, 'The Political Pohcy of the Sydney Bulletin 1890-1901.' Unpublished B.A. Hons thesis, University of New England, 1962, p. 20). 5 See Sylvia Lawson, The Archibald Paradox: A Strange Case ofAuthorship (Ringwood, Vic: Penguin, 1983), pp. 196-9. INTRODUCTION xlv 6 The notorious issue of 7 March 1 89 1 deplored the residence in Australia of 'the cheap Chinaman, the cheap Nigger and the cheap European pauper' (p. 19). 7 Lawson, Archibald Paradox, p. 87. 8 'Mr. Ernest Favenc has already made his mark in fiction, as well as having established himself as an authority on Australian exploration' (Book Lover, I i (1899), p. i). 9 This section contains new information, and draws on my [as Cheryl Frost], The Last Explorer: The Life and Work of Ernest Favenc (Townsville, Q}d.: Foundation for Austrahan Literary Studies, 1983). 10 From a certified copy of a birth certificate used by the Australian Dictionary of Biography , ed. Douglas Pike, Bede Nairn, Geoffrey Serie, Russel Ward, et al. (Cariton, Vic: Melbourne UP, 1966- ) [hereafter y4Z)5]. 1 1 Peter Brandon and Brian Short, The South East from ad iooo (London: Longman, 1990), p. 278. 12 An obituary dated by hand 16 November 1908 in 'Newspaper Cuttings of George Essex Evans', states Favenc was educated at Temple College (now gone) and 'Werdeuscher Gymnasium, Berlin', presumably in error for 'Werderscher', a Berlin suburb. Australian Boys and Girls (1895) contains a brief autobiography, written by Favenc under the pseudonym of Armand Jerome, confirming his education in Cowley (p. 46). Obituaries in the. Australa- sian and Dalgety 's Review support his schooling in Berlin. 13 An undated letter from Ernest to Jack Favenc (Mitchell Library [here- after ML]), mentions their sister, Ella (DOC 586a). ML also holds a letter (20 January 1 87 1) from Ernest to Edith (Af 3 Z^), and a poem, ' 1 87 i-i 872', written to his 'sister Edie' (Af 3/5). 14 Sydney Mail, 3 May 1879, p. 689. 15 'Some Afaj/ Writers', Sydney Mail, 19 December 1896, p. xxx. 16 Favenc's poem, 'Thermuthis' {Queenslander, i4March 1874), gives the date of writing as i February at 'Telemon'. 17 'Some Mail Writers', p. xxx. 18 Australian Boys and Girls records these experiences (p. 46). 19 Ibid., p. 46. 20 'A Lay of Ravenswood' (16 December 1871) reveals that Favenc visited Ravenswood, where gold had first been found in October 1868. 'The Profes- sor's Discovery. A Tale of Old Ravenswood' (24 May 1890) is set in the goldfield 'after its best days had fled' (p. 20). Other fiction revealing a first- hand knowledge of mining are 'The Gold King' (26 December 1 874), and 'Jack Essingham', chap, xviii (11 December 1875). 21 Suggested by 'My Story' (February 1875). 22 Favenc may have known the Queensland poet, George Essex Evans, then agricultural editor of the Queenslander: see William Wilde, Joy Hooton and Barry Andrews, The Oxford Companion to Australian Literature (Mel- bourne: Oxford UP, 1985) [hereafter OCAL]. In 1893 Favenc's 'A Tale of the Western Desert' appeared in Antipodean, co-edited by Evans. 23 She probably wrote 'A Romance of Kangaroo Point', published in the Queenslander over Favenc's pen-name, Dramingo, July-August 1876. Before her marriage she hved in Brisbane with her sister Helen. xlvi INTRODUCTION 24 Favenc's hand-written journal [at ML]; his colourful 'An Explorer's Diary' (October 1878-July 1879); the sober narrative in his History of Austral- ian Exploration (pp. 274-6); a more personal and expansive account in his Explorers of Australia and Their Life Work (1908), pp. 224-7; and S. C. Briggs' journal [at ML]. A detailed reconstruction of the expedition is given in Frost, Last Explorer, pp. 13-27. 25 Favenc, Voices of the Desert, pp. 46-^ and 52-6. 26 In Favenc's History of Australian Exploration, p. 275. 27 See explanatory note 14 for p. 137. 28 Favenc celebrated the coming child in the poem, 'Found' (1881). 29 An imminent birth vcould account for Bessie's sudden return to Sydney, accompanied by Favenc, when the Gulf expedition, described below, had travelled as far as Normanton in January 1883. He was confident of resuming leadership of the expedition in March. 30 A sketch-map of Eva Downs and neighbouring properties is among cuttings of Favenc's publications in ML, Q^ 980.1 F. 31 In 'The Fate of the Prout Brothers' (1881), Favenc wrote: The favourable terms offered by the South Australian government induced many people, especially in Queensland, to take up country in the Northern Territory. This country was taken up on the map; the South Australian government, in their praiseworthy desire to promote settlement, leasing it at a mere nominal rental, and the lessees having three years' grace to stock it. The whole of the country between the Queensland boundary and the Telegraph Line was thus taken up without anything of it, as a matter of fact, being known (p. 24). 32 Cutting, dated by hand, ML, Q_ 980.1 F: 'Messrs. Macdermott, Brothers, and Scarr report having sold, on account of Messrs. Traill and Favenc, the Eva Downs run, northern territory of South Australia, consisting of 1 800 square miles, to Messrs. M'^Kinnin and Maher, at a satisfactory price' . 33 'A. G. Stephens's Bulletin Diary,' ed. Leon Cantrell, in Cross Currents: Magazines and Newspapers in Australian Literature, ed. Bruce Bennett (Mel- bourne: Longman Cheshire, 1981), entry for 11 September 1896, p. 49. Stephens published an abridgement of this conversation in the Bookfellow, 25 July 1907, p. 53. 34 Work by 'The Meddler' was otherwise unattributed. Appendix 2 lists only items for which there is documentary proof of Favenc's authorship. But for January-September 1881 the style and content of the columns frequently suggest Favenc. 3 5 ADB dates this expedition to late 1 88 1 , but in the biography supplied to A. G. Stephens for inclusion in The Bulletin Story Book (Sydney: Bulletin Newspaper Company, 1901), pp. xx-xxi, and probably written by Favenc, the dates of exploration are '1882-83-84'. 36 E.g. Caroline noted that at Frank Hann's station of Lawn Hill the manager. Jack Watson, had forty pairs of black ears nailed round the walls, collected during reprisals against the tribes for cattle-steahng. Her diary entry INTRODUCTION xlvii for 20 February 1883 records how an Aboriginal woman was brought to Carl Creek station by the owner and one of his sons and chained to a tree in heavy rain: 'The usual method here of bringing in a new wild gin is to put a rope around her neck and drag her along from horseback, the gin on foot'. In 'White Versus Black' (1882), Favenc denied knowledge of any atrocities committed against the Aboriginal tribes of north Queensland. 37 The journal (at ML) seems to have been written chiefly with Bessie in mind (they had probably lost a child recently) and may also reflect Favenc's drinking problem, as reported by Traill and recorded by Stephens (see n. 33). Three other records of the exploration of the Macarthur are extant: Favenc's and Lindsay Crawford's General Report on Country in the Northern Territory ( 1 883); Favenc's 'Diary of a Trip from North Newcastle to Macarthur River', 10 November-22 December 1883; and 'Ernest Favenc's Latest Explorations', 4 October 1884. 38 West Australian, 22 March 1888, p. 3; Favenc, History of Australian Exploration, p. 284. He explored the mouth of the Macarthur partly at the request of 'Messrs. A. and R. Amos, who own a large property in the district' {Queenslander, 4 October 1884, p. 547). 39 Helen to Bessie, 16 April 1886: 'Give my love to poor old Ernest tell him I hope he will soon get well.' Helen to Bessie, 26 October 1886: 'I'm sorry to hear you are so pushed, better days coming.' Bessie to Ralph, Helen's husband, shortly after Helen's death: 'Of late times have been a little hard with us, but there is always a home for Nellie's baby and I should be glad to have her and bring her up with Amy' (letters held by Mrs Jan Goodwin). 40 An English syndicate financed this expedition {ADB). 41 See his report, 'Explorations in the Region of the Upper Gascoyne and Ashburton Rivers, West Australia' (1889), p. 495; and his 'From Melbourne to the Gascoyne' (1888). 42 Also 'A Tale of the Western Desert' (1893), and 'A Waif of the Desert' (1895). 43 Reported in the obituary, Evening News, 16 November 1908. 44 The Australian Encyclopaedia (Sydney: Grolier Society of Australia, 1958), IV, p. 21; the obituary in Town and Country Journal {18 Novemhei 1908, p. 52) confirms Favenc's employment on the paper. For a history of the Evening News, see R. B. Walker. The Newspaper Press in New South Wales, 1803-1920 (Sydney: Sydney UP, 1976), pp. 83-4, 88, 106. 45 But possibly till 1906 or 1907: see n. 58 and letter to Randolph Bedford from Evening News office, dated 15 October 1900, ML, Af 3/6. 46 'People I Have Met. I. The Baronet's Daughter'. 47 'The above quotation [in 'A Drover's Diary'] is from an unpublished poem of my own. I mention this for fear anybody might mistake it for Milton's or Tennyson's. Some day when I'm in a benevolent frame of mind, and want to make the fortune of an enterprising publisher, I will give it to the public' (Queenslander, i July 1876, p. 14). 48 'Favenc is only about fifty years of age now, and, although time and care have set their seal on him and bowed his shoulders, he was in earlier days a man of splendid physique and carriage, and the picture of a fine, handsome gentleman, of charming manners and manly appearance' (Queenslander, 22 xlviii INTRODUCTION May 1897, p. 1123). This is confirmed by photographs in the Bulletin (19 November 1908, p. 18; 29 January 1930, p. 52). 49 En route to Brisbane after the Queenslander expedition, Favenc's ship went aground on a reef: I am still proud to remember that the most original idea was suggested by the writer of this diary. The idea was that we should set to work and drink all the beer on board, and then float the steamer off with empty bottles. Everybody was so taken with this notion that we went below in a body to commence. When, however, the Chinese steward informed us "only six piece bottle left" despair ensued, and we felt our end was approaching. But the thought of being left beerless under a summer sun on that desolate reef so stimulated everybody to fresh exertion that that night she came off (j^ue^nj/awifr, i2july 1879, p.44). He claims personal popularity in Australian Boys and Girls, p. 46. 50 See Australian Boys and Girls, p. 46; Becke contributed a story, 'Swain the Half-Caste', to this volume. 51 Fitz Henry, 'Some Bulletin Books and Their Authors', in Mackaness and Stone, Books of the Bulletin, p. 5. Unlike Favenc, Farrell was a 'radical' (OCAL), but the two men may have shared other interests. 52 In Search of Henry Lawson (Melbourne: Macmillan, 1978), p. 81. 53 George A. Taylor, "Those Were the Days" {SyAne.y: Tyrell's, 1918), p. 63- 54 In a letter dated 30 August 1893, addressed to 'Bolger', Favenc defends his vision of an Australia rendered 'habitable throughout' by vast resources of subterranean water (ML, Af 3/2). A second letter, unfortunately undated, reveals that Bolger was on the staff of the Bulletin. It arranges a meeting, ^punctually at ^ p.m.': I have to go to the public library, so cannnot wait. If the Bulletin takes it and has any letterpress; I must see the proof and be allowed to revise it. I am not going to have d-d flapdoodles written about me, to be everlast- ingly chaffed about it afterwards. You can show this to Mr. Archibald as he knows well that I detest the idea of appearing either in the Bulletin's "Chamber of Horrors", or that of any other paper. There's no advertisement in it worth a cent. Every murderer and harlot has the same privilege. 55 Hayes Collection (hereafter HC), 2/957. 56 HC, 2/958. 57 HC, 2/960. 58 HC, 2/959. Favenc had probably left the staff of the Evening News by 1906. In letters of April 1906, he negotiated with the newly appointed editor, Walter Jeffery, over the printing and illustrating of an article, 'The First Christmas Dinner in the Australian Interior'. Jeffery had worked for the Evening News 1887-1891 with Favenc. His letter of 6 April is defensively INTRODUCTION xlix written, as if he were disappointed or ill. 59 Favenc proposed damming the wet season overflow of inland Queens- land rivers ('A Desert -and Why?', 7 June 1 902); described a future earthquake joining Spencer's Gulf to the Gulf of Carpentaria ('The Coming Earthquake', 1 1 October 1902); and speculated about filling Lake Eyre with ocean water via a canal from South Australia ('Lake Eyre', 30 October 1902). 60 '10 March 1901' is written on a cutting (ML, Q^A 821 E 92.1 2A1) reporting Favenc's departure for the South Seas. 61 'Our Australian Craftswomen. No. i: Mrs. Ernest Favenc', Art and Architecture: Journal of the Institute of Architects ofN.S. W. , IV vi (November- December 1907), p. 224. Bessie's letter to A. G. Stephens (i November 1905) is on Stock and Station Journal letterhead. 62 Information from Mrs B.J. Horton, David Jones archivist. 63 Unidentified cutting, dated by hand i May 1905 (ML, Q.A 821 E 92.1 2A1). 64 Unidentified cutting, dated by hand 4 November 1905 (ML, ibid.). 6s HC, 2/958. 66 HC, 2/960. 67 Obituary, Town and Country Journal, 18 November 1908, p. 52. 68 Bulletin, 16 November 1908, p. 18. 69 Cf. John Docker, The Nervous Nineties (Melbourne: Oxford UP, 1991), pp. xii, xvi-xvii. 70 See 54:2-55:13, 65:3-6 and 154:15-155:16. 71 Cf the review in the Athenaeum quoted on p. xxxii. 72 140: 17. Holmes first appears in ConanDoyle'sy45tei)'ra5(rflrto(i888). 73 Cf. the 300-year-old corpse of Jose da Silvestra, preserved in a cave of ice in Haggard's King Solomon's Mines (1885; Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1958), pp. 83-5, and the bodies of the kings of the Kukuanas, preserved as stalactites, pp. 216-17. In Favenc's stories the corpses are usually abandoned to the dry winds of the desert. 74 Ibid., pp. 224-40. The crushing of the monkey-like sorceress, Gagool, under the great stone door to the cave may have contributed to Favenc's invention of the sub-human Jinkarras; and the near-loss of Captain Good in Haggard's story underwrites the death of Jackson in Favenc's. In both, underground water is a barrier to escape, horror is evoked through impenetra- ble darkness, and the sight of stars triggers emotions from the captives on their release. The Daily Telegraph's reviewer recognised imitation of Haggard, and also of Edgar Allen Poe, in 'A Haunt of the Jinkarras' (see below). 75 Mclntyre stands in a similar relationship to Mitford as Sydney Carton to Charles Darnay. A Tale of Two Cities (1859) remained popular and was dramatised in 1890 by F. Wills as The Only Way. 76 The men are respectively trepang fishers and a station owner (20: 1-14, 150:6-10). Mrs Brown clinches her defence for murdering her ex-lover thus: 'it was only what a father or a brother would have done for me had I had one' (150:4-5). 77 Cf Patrick Branthnger, Rule of Darkness: British Literature and Imperi- alism, 1830-1914 (Ithaca: Cornell UP, 1988), p. 227. 1 INTRODUCTION 78 Evans, Kay Saunders and Kathryn Cronin, Race Relations in Colonial Queensland: A History of Exclusion, Exploitation and Extermination, 3rd edn (St Lucia Qld.: University of Queensland Press, 1993), pp. 12-16. 79 The letter (30 January 1892) reads: A Narrow Squeak. Dear Bulletin,-^?? "Malchook's Doom," your story of the Nicholson River (N. Q.), I will tell you a true adventure of an old friend of mine, who camped on that river during the wet season of '82-'83 with a mob of store cattle for the Northern Territory. The blacks had been very troublesome and had paid one or two visits to the camp, as well as spearing many cattle. G. used to sleep under a tarpaulin stretched over a ridge- pole, the ends being open and the sides also, for about two feet from the ground. All the rations were stored there, and G. had a bunk rigged up on the spot. One night, after getting inside his mosquito-net, he re- membered that he had not put his revolver under the pillow. He felt, at first, too lazy to get up and get it, but finally, under the pressure of a presentiment, he did so, and fell asleep. Now, mosquito-nets in the Far North are gener- ally made of coarse cheese-cloth to keep the venomous little sand-flies out; the top and bottom are of calico, with a slit in the bottom for entrance; when rigged, they are like an oblong box, and, naturally, after you have got in and arranged your blankets, getting out again is a work of time and difficulty. One thing is, that although you can see out, no one can well see in, unless there is a light behind the net. G — woke up suddenly that night, although he was not aware of any sound having aroused him. He lay for some time listening, when he was conscious of some strange objects being visible underneath the edge of the tarpaulin. It was about full moon, and there was no doubt of what the objects were: the legs of about seven or eight blackfellows. Presently one looked curiously in at the end opening. G — had been lying on his back with one knee up; unthinkingly he put his leg down. The blackfellow, having the bunk between himself and the other moonlit opening, could see the movement, and instantly dropped behind some bags of flour. G^lay perfectly still and waited, getting his re- volver ready. Presently the nigger got up and cau- tiously advanced club in hand. Once within the shadow of the tarpaulin he could see nothing inside the mosquito-net, although G. could see him plainly. Noiselessly he crept on until at last he was trying to INTRODUCTION li peer through the net, quite unconscious that he was almost looking down the muzzle of G.'s pistol, who settled matters by pulling the trigger. There was a great clatter outside, and the wounded man made a dive and scramble under the edge of the tarpaulin and disappeared. The men, awakened by the shot, came out of the tents, and one of them hearing a noise in the river-bed went down the bank and almost tumbled over the nigger crawling on his hands and knees and coughing gouts of blood up, for the bullet had gone into his mouth and down his throat. G. had set his net on fire when he fired the shot and was busy putting it out. When he went outside, they picked up eight big two-handed clubs that the blacks had dropped during their hasty flight. It was the greatest start they had had for some time. Delcomyn. 80 The clerical moralism satirised in 'How the Reverend Joseph Simmondsen Lost His Character' is unwittingly substantiated by Frederick Richmond's Queensland in the 'Seventies '. Reminiscences of the Early Days of a Young Clergyman (Singapore: C. A. Ribeiro, 1927): A 'gentleman' drover in the North had the audacity to ride into town and shew himself among refined true women of his own race and class, while the native that rode after him dressed in boy's clothes was a black woman, (p. 88) Also see Favenc's 'The Other Mrs. Brewer' (1895). 8 1 According to Walker, Newspaper Press in NSW, the readership steadied in 1883 at about 14,500 (p. 94). However the Bulletin's popularity increased in the 1890S. 82 Bulletin, 21 June 1890, p. 23. 83 Quotations from their reviews are given in an advertisement for The Last of Six in the Bulletin, i September 1894. However the reviews did not appear on the dates named (respectively, 8 and 15 July 1893). 84 Daily Telegraph, 15 July 1893, p. 3. 85 Spectator, 17 November 1894, p. 701. 86 Athenaeum, 14 July 1894, p. 63. 87 Nearly all contemporary reviews of Favenc's books are favourable. Exceptions are: the Bulletin review of The Moccasins of Silence (4 January 1 896) which objects to the American Indian word in the title; the Bulletin review of The Secret of the Australian Desert (23 November 1896) which criticises the novel's assumption of white superiority; and ML, QA821 E 92. 1 2A1 contains an unsourced cutting attacking poetic technique in Voices of the Desert. 88 Mackaness and Stone, Books of the Bulletin, pp. 47-8: the sales figure for The History of Botany Bay is based on a claim printed in the Bulletin; and for A Golden Shanty, A. G. Stephens is quoted: '10,000 copies sold with ease, the second [10,000] with difficulty'. 89 Books of the Bulletin, p. 6. Hi INTRODUCTION 90 Ibid., p. 66. 91 The 'Prefatory' to the first impression is dated i December 1901; the 'Note' added to the second has 'i November 1902'. 92 Favenc was not mentioned in Zora Cross, An Introduction to the Study of Australian Literature (Sydney: Teachers' College Press and Angus & Robertson, 1922); nor in Nettie Palmer, Modern Australian Literature (igoo- '9^3) (Melbourne: Lothian, 1924). 93 MiWer, Australian Literature, pp. 12, 173, 457-9; Roderick, An Introduc- tion, pp. 45-8; Green, A History, I, pp. 40, 618-19, 731-2, 840-1. 94 Hadgraft, Queensland and Its Writers, pp. 22-3, 109. 95 'Mr. Favenc has one advantage over most of his contemporaries, that he is not devoted to the gospel of drab. Less of a pessimist than Henry Lawson, and choosing subjects less morbid than those of "Price Warung", he should have a large audience for these tales \My Only Murder and Other Tales']' (Book Lover, li (1899), p. i). 96 Moore, Social Patterns, pp. 89, 179; Healy, Literature and the Aborigine, pp. 1 13-14; Falkiner, Writer's Landscape, p. 215. 97 Healy, 'The LemurianNineties',yiMsfrfl/iflwLiferar)/5iW»>i,viii (1978), 307-16. 98 Giles, 'Romance', in The New Literary History of Australia, ed. Laurie Hergenhan (Ringwood, Vic: Penguin, 1988), pp. 226, 230; Docker, Nervous Nineties, pp. 230-1. 99 In 1929 Ernest Scott recommended Favenc's History in the preface to the volume on land exploration in his Australian Discovery, as 'the best general work dealing systematically with explorations described by the original narra- tives in this volume' (II, p. xxxii). In 1953 Colin Roderick commented: 'Every schoolboy of my generation was acquainted with The History of Australian Exploration 1 788-1888 (iSSS), a work which, while discounted today because of minor breaches of historical accuracy, was to us an enthralling text-book' {Australian Round-Up, Sydney, Angus & Robertson, 1953, p. 349). In 1961 H. M. Green claimed that Favenc's book was 'the standard history of AustraHan exploration', (History of Australian Literature, I, p. 40). Favenc's later study. The Explorers of Australia and their Life Work, was listed by Charles R. Long as one of twelve Austrahan books that should be in every Australian home (All About Books, X i, 15 January 1938, p. 9). 100 'His wife is herself a clever literary woman, who has most ably assisted him in his work . . . Twenty years ago his bright pen enlivened the columns of Queensland papers, when under the nom deplume of Dramingo he wrote stories and sketches all of local colouring and interest. He was later a capital draftsman, and he and his busy wife collaborated so entirely that while one was writing a part of the story or sketch in hand, the other would be drawing illustrations for it on wood, and they were in the habit of exchanging their tasks when one or the other grew tired. This, too, with as little concern as if they were copying instead of originating at each stroke of the pen or pencil' (Queenslander, 22 May 1897, p. 1123). loi Set hiv/son, Archibald Paradox, pp. 156-7, 160, 163-4. 102 In the foot-of-page apparatus, see entry b on p. 126 and d on p. 127. 103 See entry x on p. 37. INTRODUCTION liii 104 E.g. entry d on p. 105 and i on p. 106. 105 See entry e on p. 51 and t on p. 76. Also excised were some interesting but peripheral allusions, e.g. to Westward Ho!, and to St Anthony (entry b on p. 15 and Ion p. 107). 1 06 The story is signed 'Binghi' a pseudonym confined to Favenc's Bulletin stories of the early 1890s. Stephens joined the Bulletin staff in 1894. 107 E.g. see entry q on p. 86, a on p. 102, a on p. 17, e on p. 21, x on p. 25. 108 E.g. see entry a on p. 65, x on p. 37 and e on p. 51. 109 Some of the embroidering was removed: e.g. see entry e on p. 51 and y on p. 102. no E.g. see entry z on p. 54, i on p. 7, f on p. 54. 111 E.g. see entry b on p. II. 112 E.g. see entry c on p. 23, 1 on p. 36, b on p. 9, h on p. 65, h on p. 70 and m on p. 90. 1 13 E.g. see entry 1 on p. 70. 114 E.g. see entry r on p. 10, 1 on p. 30 and e on p. 68. 115 E.g. see entry q on p. 10, fon p. 13, e on p. 84 and j on p. 105. 116 E.g. see entry con p. 21 and b on p. 65. 1 17 See 'The Miner's Plate' (ML, MS. B741), 'Corporal Frank' (ML, MS. 2574) and the typescript of the historical sketch, 'The First Christmas Dinner in the Australian Interior', sent to Walter Jeffery on 9 April 1906 (ML, MSS. 1969/12). 1x8 E.g. see entries q and r on p. 18. 1 19 'A Cup of Cold Water', 'A Haunt of the Jinkarras', 'The Rumford Plains Tragedy', 'Tranter's Shot' and 'Spirit-Led' all come in the first half of both volumes; 'The Mystery of Baines' Dog', 'The Cook and the Cattle Stealer' ('Sandy Macpherson's Christmas Ride', Bulletin; 'The Hut-Keeper and the Cattle-Stealer', Ei), 'The Parson's Blackboy' and 'A Lucky Meeting' are in the same order in the second half, but omitting stories not republished in Ei - 'Pompey' and 'Malchook's Doom'. 120 Athenaeum, 26 May 1894, pp. 668, 679; Spectator, 26 May 1894, p. 728. 121 E.g. see entry v for p. 25, where Ei seems to revert to a Bulletin reading, but can be explained as an authorial or editorial revision. 122 E.g. see entry a on p. 109 and c on p. 117. 123 E.g. see entries for 43:18 and 122:16 in the List of Editor's Emenda- tions. 124 E.g. 'Bunthorp' is misspelled 'Bunthorpe' (i 17:1 1) and the name 'Fred Barlow' is created by the omission of a comma (115:23). 125 E.g. see entry g on p. 26 and y on p. 73. 126 E.g. 'Mclntyre!' and 'Jennie!' in 'That Other Fellow', 130:19 and 131:19; capitalisation of clerical titles and spelling out of numbers in 'The Parson's Blackboy', e.g. 104:15 and 104:7-9; and 'The Bachelor's Dehght' and 'Cygnet' in 'Spirit-Led', 60:17. 127 E.g. 'steaming' (for 'streaming') at 51 :28, and 'met' (for 'left') at 68:29. 128 E.g. see entry p on p. 107 and n and o on p. 137. 129 E.g. see entry o on p. 22, w on p. 23, and x and n on p. 27. 130 El's use of capitals for titles was independently adopted in Syd2. 131 E.g. 'had n't', 'does n't' and capitalisation of titles occur regularly; liv INTRODUCTION irregular changes include the addition of commas or their replacement by semi-colons. 132 E.g. see entries y and a on p. 104, z and b on p. 107. Changes suggestive of a literary sensibility include a greater emphasis on the name, 'Joseph', pointing more clearly to the parallel in Genesis xxxix. 1-20 (see entries b and j on p. 106 and v on p. 107). 133 They are: William Tirebuck, The Little Widow, E. F. Benson, Six Common Things; and M. E. Francis, In a North Country Village. 134 The following passage suggests that Stephens regarded subjects such as those chosen for Favenc's Bulletin stories as exemplary of Australian short fiction: It will be the fault of the writers, not of the land, if Australian literature does not by-and-by become memorable. In the field of the short sketch or story, for example,-the field which includes this book,- what country can offer to writers better material than Australia? We are not yet snug in cities and hamlets, moulded by routine, regimented to a pattern. Every man who roams the Austrahan wilderness is a poten- tial knight of Romance; every man who grapples with the Australian desert for a livehhood might sing a Homeric chant of victory, or listen, baffled and beaten, to an Aeschylean dirge of defeat. The marvels of the adventurous are our daily common-places. The drama of the conflict between Man and Destiny is played here in a scenic setting whose novelty is full of suggestion for the literary artist. In the twilit labour of the timber-getter in a Richmond scrub; in the specta- cle of the Westralian prospector tramping across his mirage-haunted waste; in the tropic glimpse of the Thursday Island pearling fleet, manned by men of a dozen turbulent races,-the luggers floating so calmly above a search so furious;-here, and in a hundred places beside, there is a wealth of novel inspiration for the writers who will live Australian life and utter her message. And when those writers come, let us tell them that we will never rest contented until Austral- ian authors meet the highest standards set in litera- ture, in order that we may set the standards higher and preach discontent anew. (p. viii) 135 Mackaness and Stone, Books of the Bulletin, provides a bibliographical description (pp. 66-7). Tales of the Austral Tropics Note on the Texts This edition is based on the texts of stories published in the Sydney Bulletin April 1890-December 1892 (hereafter, Bui). In order to record Favenc's revision of the stories, all textual changes introduced in the collection, The Last of Six (Sydney, 1 893) have been recorded (as Syd) in the foot-of-page apparatus, as well as all changes to wording found in the second collection, Tales of the Austral Tropics (London, 1894) - Ei. Variant wordings less likely to have originated with the author are marked in the apparatus with an asterisk. Because they are very unlikely to have been Favenc's work the following are not recorded: variation in successive publications be- tween en-rules and em-dashes (this edition follows BuPs practice), the spelling out of numbers, the omission of full stops after story titles or chapter numbers, the omission of rules under headings, the printing of the first one or two words of stories in ordinary type-face or in small capitals, variation in the number of asterisks or stops across a hne indicating a section break, and SytTs end-of-line hyphenations of compound words. The presentation of story titles in 5k/ varied: some incorporated line illustrations and ornamental rules. The majority practice (bold, central, upper and lower case with terminal punctua- tion) is imposed silently throughout, and the universal omission of signatures and of the sub-title, '[For The Bulletin.]', from the later printings is not recorded. Decisions to retain or delete ambiguous end- of-line hyphens in compound words in Bui are recorded in the List of Editor's Emendations, as are corrections of obvious errors in the copy- text. Subject to the above exceptions, the foot-of-page apparatus gives the copy-text reading before the square bracket without a symbol; variant readings in Syd (and variant substantive readings in Ei) follow in chronological sequence, with only the first state in which they appear denoted. Thus, where a story has Bui, Syd and Ei versions, the substantive reading denoted by Syd recurs in Ei unless an alternative reading is noted. The symbol ij/^/ followed by a degree sign (°) indicates that while £/'s wording corresponds with Syd's, the Ei accidental reading is different. A Table providing £/'s reading in such cases (except for the silent categories mentioned above) appears on p. 210. Where the only variant reading recorded to the right of the square bracket is in Ei , the reading in Syd coincides with that of the copy-text. 4 NOTE ON THE TEXTS The swung dash in the apparatus indicates a repeated word, P a new paragraph, / a line-break, f errors in punctuation unlikely to be the work of the author, and Om. omitted. The presence of an explanatory note is signalled in the text by an arable numeral. The copy-texts for the stories are as follows: 'AHauntoftheJinkarras': 5«/ (5 April 1890, p. 8), collated against 5)/(/ and£/. 'The Last of Six': Bui (19 April 1890, p. 8), collated against Syd. 'A Cup of Cold Water': Bui (10 May 1890, p. 8), collated against Syd and£/. 'TheRumford Plains Tragedy':5M/(7 June 1890, p. 8), collated against SydzndEi. 'The Story of the Big Pearl': 5«/ (21 June 1890, p. 23), collated against SydzndEi. 'The Stolen Colours': Bui (13 September 1890, p. 10), not printed in Syd, collated against Ei. No changes were made to wording. 'Spirit-Led': Bui (20 December 1890, p. 7), collated against 5)/(^ and Ei. 'Sandy Macpherson's Christmas Ride': Bui (20 December 1890, p. 8), collated against Syd and Ei. 'The Spell of the Mas-Hantoo': Bui (20 December 1890, pp. 12-13), collated against Syd. 'Malchook's Doom-A Story of the Nicholson River': Bui (23 January 1892, p. 21), collated against Syd. 'Tranter's Shot': Bui (16 April 1892, p. 10), collated against Syd and Ei. 'Pompey': Bui (16 April 1892, p. 24), collated against Syd. 'The Track of the Dead': Bui {22 April 1892, p. 17), collated against Syd. 'The Missing Super': Bui (7 May 1892, p. 19), collated against Syd. 'How the Reverend Joseph Simmondsen Lost His Character': Bui (21 May 1892, p. 22) collated against Syd, Ei and its resetting in The Bulletin Story Book (Sydney, 1901) {Sydz). Their variant readings (for Ei and Syd2, variant wordings only) are recorded in the foot-of-page apparatus. Accidental variants linked to variant wordings in Ei and Syd2 are recorded in the Table of Accidental Variants. 'Bunthorp's Decease': Bui (17 December 1892, pp. lo-ii), collated against £/. NOTE ON THE TEXTS 5 'That Other Fellow': Bui (17 December 1892, p. 1 5), collated against Syd and Ei. 'The Mystery of Baines' Dog': Bui (17 December 1892, pp. 18-19), collated against Syd and Ei. 'A Lucky Meeting': Syd, collated against Ei (no Bulletin printing). No changes were made to wording. A Haunt of the Jinkarras. (A 'Fearsome Story of Central Australia.) (For The Bulletin.) In May, 1889, the dead body of a man was found on one of the tributaries of the Finke River, in the extreme North of South Austraha. The body, by all appearances, had been lying there ""some months and was accidentally discovered by 'explorers making a flying survey with camels. Amongst the few effects was a ''Lett's Diary' containing the following 'narration, 'which although in many places almost illegible and much weather-stained, has been since, with some trouble, deciphered and transcribed by the surveyor in charge of the ^party, and forwarded to The Bulletin for publication. Transcribed from the Dead Man's Diary. March 10, 1888. — Started out this morning with ''Jackson, the only survivor of a party of three who lost their horses on a dry stage when looking for country; he was found and cared for by the blacks, and finally made his way into the 'line^ where I picked him up when out with a repairing-party. Since then I got him a job on the station, and in return he has told me about the ruby-field of which we are now in search; 'and thanks to the late thunder-storms we have as yet met with no obstacles to our progress. I have great faith in ''him, but he being a man without any education and naturally 'taciturn, is not very lively company, and I find myself thrown on to the resource of a diary for amusement. March 17. — Seven days since we left Charlotte Waters, and we are now approaching the country familiar to Jackson during his sojourn with the natives two years ago. He is confident that we shall gain the gorge in the Macdonnell Ranges to-morrow, early. The copy-text is the Bulletin printing, and the apparatus records variants in Syd and Ei (wording only): see pp. 3-5 for details. ' Fearsome] Om. Syd ° some] for Ei ' explorers] some surveyors Syd ' Lett's Diary] diary Ei ' narration] narrative Syd 'which] ~, Syd ' party,. ..publication.] party. Syd '' Jackson,] Jackson, who is Syd ' line] telegraph-line Syd ' and] Om. Syd '' him, but he] him as a bushman, but Syd ' taciturn,] taciturn, he Syd TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS March i8. — ^Amongst the ranges, plenty of water,' and Jackson has recognised several peaks in the near neighbourhood of the gorge, where he saw the rubies. March 19. — Camped in Ruby Gorge, as I have named this pass, for we have come straight to the place and found the rubies" without any hindrance at all. I have about twenty magnificent stones and hundreds of small ones; one of the stones in particular is almost living fire, and must be of great value. Jackson has no idea of the value of the find, except that it may be worth a few pounds, with which he will be quite satisfied. As there is good feed and water, and we have plenty of rations, will camp here for a day or two and spell the horses before returning. March 20. — ^Been ""examining some caves in the ranges.' One of them seems to penetrate a great distance-will go to-morrow with Jackson and take candles and examine it. March 25. — Had a terrible experience the last four days. Why "on earth did I not °go back at once with the rubies? Now I may never get back. Jackson and I started to explore ^this cave early in the morning. We found nothing extraordinary about it for some time. As 'usual, there were numbers of bats, and here and there 'there were marks of fire on the rocks, as though the natives had camped ^ere at times. After some 'searching about, Jackson discovered a passage which we fol- lowed down a steep incline for a long distance. As we got on we encountered a strong draught of air and had to be very careful of our candles. Suddenly the passage opened "out and we found ourselves in a low chamber in which we could 'not stand upright. I looked hastily around, and saw a dark figure like a large monkey* suddenly spring from a rock and disappear with what sounded like a splash. "What on earth was that?" I said to Jackson. "A jinkarra," he replied, in his slow, stolid way. "I heard about them from the blacks; they live under- ground." "What are they?" I asked. "I couldn't make out," he replied; "the blacks talked about jinkarras, and made signs that they were underground, so I suppose that was one." We went over to the place where I had seen the figure and, as the air was now comparatively still and fresh, our candles burnt well and we could see plainly. The splash was no illusion, for an underground stream of some size ran through the chamber, "and on looking closer, " examining] inspecting Syd " on earth] Om. Ei ° go back] return Ei p this] the Syd 1 usual,] ~ Syd ' there] Om. Syd ' there] in it Syd ' searching about] search Syd " out] Om. Syd " not] scarcely Syd " and] ~, Syd A HAUNT OF THE JINKARRAS in the sand on the floor of the "cavern, were tracks like H human foot. We sat down and had something to eat. The water was beautifully fresh and icily cold, and I tried to ^obtain from Jackson all he knew about the jinkarras. It was very little beyond what he had already told me. The natives spoke of them as something, animals or men, he could not make out which, living in the ranges underground. They used to frighten the children by crying out "jinkarra!" to them at night. The stream that flowed through the cavern was very sluggish and apparently not deep, as I could see the white sand at a distance under the rays of the candle; it disappeared "under a rocky arch about two feet above its surface. Strange to say, when near this arch I could ''smell a peculiar '^pungent smell like something burning, and this odour ap- peared to come through the arch. I drew Jackson's attention to ''it and proposed wading down the channel of the stream if not too deep, but he suggested going back to camp fu-st and getting more rations, 'which, being very reasonable, I agreed to. It took us too long "^to get back to camp to think of starting that day, but next morning we got away early and were soon beside the subter- ranean stream. The water was bitterly cold but not very deep, and we had provided ourselves with stout saplings as poles and had our revolvers and some rations strapped on our shoulders. It was ^an awful wade through the ''chill water, our heads nearly touching the slimy top of the arch, our candles throwing a faint, flickering gleam on the surface of the 'stream; fortunately the bottom was splendid-hard, smooth sand-iand after wading for about 20 ''minutes we suddenly emerged into another cavern, but its extent we could not discern at first for our attention was taken up with other matters. The air was laden with pungent smoke, the place illuminated with a score of smouldering fires, and tenanted by a crowd of the most hideous beings I ever saw. They espied us in an instant, and flew wildly about, jabbering frantically, until we were nearly deafened. Recovering 'ourselves we waded out of the water, and tried to approach some of these creatures, but they hid away in the '"darker corners, and we "couldn't lay hands on any of them. As well as we could make out in the ' cavem, were] cavern we could see Syd '> a human foot] those of human feet Syd ' obtain] extract Ei ' under] beneath Syd *' smell] detect Syd ' pungent smell Uke] smeU as of Syd "■ it] ~, Syd ' which,] ~ Syd 'to get back] returning 5)'i/ ' an awful] a nasty £/ " chiU] chilly ^j/^/ ' stream; fortunately] stream. Fortunately Syd ' and] ~, Syd ' minutes] ~, Syd ' ourselves] ~, Syd ■" darker] dark Syd ' couldn't] could not Syd TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS murky "light they were human beings, but savages of the most de- graded type, far below "the ordinary Australian blackfellow. They had long arms, shaggy heads of hair, small twinkling eyes, and were very low of stature. They kept up a confused jabber, half whistling, half chattering, and were utterly without clothes, paint, or any ornaments. I approached one of their fires, and found it to consist of a kind of peat or turf; some small bones of vermin were lying around, and a rude club or two. While gazing at these things I suddenly heard a piercing shriek, and, looking up, found that Jackson, by a sudden spring, had succeeded in capturing one of these creatures, who was struggling and uttering terrible yells. I went to his assistance, and together we succeeded in holding him still while we examined him by the light of our candles. The others, meanwhile, ^dropped their clamour and watched us curiously. Never 'did I see such a repulsive wretch as our prisoner. Apparently he was a young man about two or three and twenty, *only five feet high at the outside, lean, with thin legs and long arms. He was trembling all over, and the perspiration dripped from him. He had scarcely any forehead, and a shaggy mass of hair crowned his head, and grew a long way down his spine. His eyes were small, red and bloodshot; I have often experienced the strong odour emitted by 'the ordinary blackfellow when heated or excited, but never did I "smell anything so offensive as the rank smell emanating from this "creature. Suddenly Jackson exclaimed: "Look! look! he's got a tail!" I looked and nearly relaxed my grasp of the brute in surprise. There was no doubt about it, this strange being had about three inches of a monkey-like tail.' "Let's catch another," I said to Jackson after the first emotion of surprise had passed. We looked around after "putting our candles upright in the sand. "There's one in "that corner," muttered Jackson to me, and as soon as I ''spotted the one he meant we released our prisoner and made a simultaneous rush at the cowering form. We were success- ful, and when we dragged our captive to the light we found it to be a woman. Our curiosity was soon satisfied-the tail was the badge of the whole tribe, and we let our second captive go. My first impulse was to go and rinse my hands in the stream, ^for the " light] ~, Syd P the ordinary] that of the common Syd '* dropped] ceased Syd ' did.. .repulsive] had I seen so repulsive a Syd ' only] hardly Syd ' the ordinary blackfellow] aborigines Syd " smell] meet with Syd ' creature] being Syd " putting] sticking Syd ' that] the Syd i spotted] saw Syd ' for] Om. Syd A HAUNT OF THE JINKARRAS contact had "been repulsive to me. ''Jackson did the same, saying as he did so-"Those fellows I lived with were bad enough, but I never smelt anything like these brutes." I pondered what I should do. I had a great desire to take one of these singular beings back with me, and I thought with pride of the reputation I should gain as their discoverer. Then I reflected that I could always find them again, and it would be better to come back with a larger party after safely disposing of the rubies and securing the ground. "There's no way out of this place," I said to Jackson. "Think not.?" he replied. "No," I said, "or these things would have cleared out; they must know every nook and cranny." "Umph!" he said, as though satisfied; "shall we go back now?" I was on the point of saying "yes, and had I done so all would have been well; but, unfortunately, some motive of infernal curiosity prompted me to say-"No! let us have a look round first." Lighting another candle each, so that we had plenty of Ught, we wandered round the cave, which was of considerable extent, the unclean inhabitants flitting before us with beast-like cries. Presently we had made a half-circuit of the cave and were approaching the stream, for we could hear a rushing sound as though it plunged over a fall. This noise grew louder, and now I noticed that all the natives had disappeared, and it struck me that they had retreated through the passage we had penetrated, which was now unguarded. Suddenly Jackson, who was ahead, exclaimed that there was a large opening. As he spoke he turned to enter it; I called out to him to be ""careful but my voice was lost in a cry of alarm as he slipped, stumbled, and with a shriek of horror disappeared from my view. So sudden was the shock, and so awful my surroundings, that I sank down utterly 'unnerved comprehending but one thing: that I was alone in this gruesome cavern inhabited by strange, unnatural creations. After a while I 'pulled myself together and began to look ^around. Holding my candle aloft I crawled on my stomach to ''where my companion had disappeared. My hand touched a slippery decline; peering cautiously 'down I saw that the rocks sloped abruptly 'downwards and were covered with ''slime as though under water at • been] been so Syd ''Jackson. ..brutes."] It was the same with Jackson. Syd ' yes,] "~," Syd ' careful] ~, Syd ' unnerved] ~, Syd ' pulled myself together] braced myself up Syd ' around] about Syd '' where] the spot whence Syd ' down] ahead Syd > downwards] ~, Syd ' slime] ~, Syd TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS times. One step on the treacherous surface and a man's doom was sealed-headlong into the unknown abyss 'below he was bound to go, and this had been the fate of the unhappy Jackson. As I lay trembling on the edge of this fatal ""chasm listening for the faintest sound from below, it struck me that the noise of the rushing water was both louder and nearer. I lay and listened. There was no doubt about it-the waters were rising. With a thrill of deadly horror it flashed across me that if the stream rose it would prevent my "return as I could not thread the subterranean passage under water. Rising hastUy I hurried back to the upper end of the "cavern following the edge of the water. A glance assured me I was a ""prisoner, the ""water was up to the top of the arch, and the stream much broader than when we entered. The rations and candles we had left carelessly on the sand had disappeared, covered by the rising water. I was alone, with nothing but about a candle and a-half between me and darkness and death. I blew out the candle, threw myself on the sand and 'thought. I brought all my courage to bear 'not to let the prospect daunt me. First, the natives had evidently retreated before the water rose too high, their fires were all 'out and a dead silence reigned. I had the cavern to myself, "this was better than their horrid company. Next, the rising was periodical, and evidently "was the cause of the slimy, slippery rock which had robbed me of my only companion. I remembered instances in the interior where lagoons rose and fell at certain times without any visible cause. Then came the ±ought, for how long would the overflow "continue. I had fresh air and plenty of "water, I could 'live days; probably the flood only lasted twelve or twenty-four hours. But ^an awful fear seized on me. Could I maintain my reason in this worse than Egyptian darkness*-a darkness so thick, definite and 'overpowering that I cannot describe it, truly a darkness that could be felt.? I had heard of men who could not ''stand twenty-four hours in a dark cell, but had clamoured to be taken out. Supposing my reason deserted me, and during some delirious interlude the stream ''fell and rose again. These thoughts were too agonising. I rose and paced a step or two on ' below] Om. Syd ■" chasm] ~, Syd " return] ~, Syd ° cavern] ~, Syd ' prisoner,] ~- Syd ' water] flood Syd ' thought] tried to think calmly Ei ' not... prospect] on the prospect before me, so as not to let it Syd ' out] ~, Syd " this] which Syd ' was.. .rock] caused the sliminess of the rock, Ei " continue.] -.' Syd » water, I] water, and so I Syd y live] live for Syd ' an awful] a deadly Ei ' overpowering.. .it,] palpable as to be indescribable Ei '' stand] endure Syd ' fell. .again.] rose and fell again! Syd A HAUNT OF THE JINKARRAS 1 3 the sand. I made a resolution during that short walk. I had matches- fortunately, with a bushman's instinct, I had put a box in my pouch when we started to investigate the cavern. I had a candle and a-half, ''and I had, thank Heaven! my watch. I would calculate four hours as nearly as possible, and every four hours I would 'light my candle and enjoy the luxury of a little light. I 'stuck to this, and by doing so left that devilish pit 'with reason. It was sixty hours before the stream fell, and what I suffered during that time no tongue ''could tell, no brain imagine. That awful darkness was at times peopled by forms 'that, for 'hideous horror, no nightmare could surpass. Invisible, but still ''palpably present, they surrounded and sought to drive me down the chasm wherein my companion had fallen. The loathsome inhabitants of that cavern came back in fancy and gibbered and whistled around me. I could smell 'them, feel their sickening touch. If I slept I awoke from, perhaps, a pleasant dream to the stern fact that I was alone in darkness in the depth of the earth. When first I found that the water was receding was perhaps the hardest time of all, for my anxiety to leave the chamber tenanted by such ""phantoms, was overpowering. But I resisted. I held to my will until I knew I could safely venture, and then waded slowly and determinedly up the stream; up the sloping passage, through the "outer-cave, and emerged "into the Ught of day-the Pblessed glorious light, with a wild shout of joy. I must have fainted; when I came to myself I was still at the mouth of the cave, but now it was night, the bright, starlit, lonely, silent night of the Australian desert. I felt no hunger nor fear of the future; one delicious sense of rest and relief thrilled my whole being. I lay there watching the dearly-loved Austral constellations in simple, peaceful ecstasy. And then I slept, slept till the sun aroused me, and I ''arose and took my way to our deserted camp. A few crows arose and cawed defiantly at me, and the leather straps bore the marks of a dingo's teeth, otherwise the camp was untouched. I ht a fire, cooked a meal, 'ate and rested once more. The reaction had set in after the intense strain I had endured, and I felt myself incapable of thinking or purposing anything. ° and I had] and Syd ' light my candle] strike a match Syd ' stuck to this] pursued this plan Syd ' with] with my Ei *' could] can Syd ' that] which Ei ' hideous horror] hideousness Syd ' palpably,] Om. Ei 'them,] — Syd ■" phantoms,] ~ 5^ " outer-cave] outer cave 5j/ii " into] in Syd " blessed] ~, Syd 1 arose and] Om. Ei ' ate] ~, Syd 14 TALES OF THE AUSTILAL TROPICS This State lasted for 'four and twenty hours-then I awoke to the fact that I had to find the horses, and make my way home alone-for, alas, as I bitterly thought, I was now, through my curiosity, alone, and, worst of "all, the cause of my companion's death. Had I come away when he proposed, he would be alive, and I should have escaped the "awful experience I have endured. I have written this down while it is fresh in my memory; to-morrow I start to look for the horses. If I reach the telegraph-line safely I will come back and follow up the discovery of this unknown race, the connecting and long-sought-for link; if not, somebody else may find this and follow up the clue. I have plotted out the course from Charlotte Waters here by dead-reckoning.' March 26th: No sign of the horses. They have evidently made back. I will make up a light pack and follow them. If I do not overtake them I may be able to get on to the line on 'foot. End of the Diary. NoTE.-The surveyor, who is well-known in South Australia, adds the following postcript:— The unfortunate man was identified as an operator on the overland line. He had been in the service a long time, and was very much liked. The facts about picking up Jackson when out with a repairing party have also been verified. The dead man had obtained six months' leave of absence, and it was supposed he had gone down to Adelaide. The tradition of "the jinkarras is common among the natives of the "Macdonnell Range. I have often heard it. No rubies or anything of value were found on the ''body . ^, of course, made an attempt to get out, but was turned back by the terrible drought then raging. As it is now broken, I am off, and by the time this reaches you shall perhaps be on the spot. ' four and twenty] four-and-twenty Syd ' all,] all had been Ei " awful] terrible Ei " foot.] foot. The stages between the water- holes, on our way out were not very long, and I ought to manage it safely. Syd ° " the] Om. Ei " Macdonnell] M'Donnell Syd °t •' body.] ~." Syd • "I.. .spot.] Om. Syd The Last of Six. (For The Bulletin.) Perhaps no more desolate, depressing scenery can be found anywhere in the world than on the mangrove-flats of Northern Queensland. As you row slowly up some saltwater creek, nothing is visible on either side but low banks of oozy mud, awash at %igh-tide, covered with writhing and distorted trees. ''Like Amyas Leigh, one expects to meet at every turn a crew of skeletons gliding along with Satan at the helm. " Now and ''again a branch creek breaks the monotony of the scrub, for the shore is here a perfect labyrinth and network of watercourses, whilst the only living ""occupants visible are armies of hideous crabs, 'or an occasional evil-looking alUgator,^ ^who noiselessly glides off the mud into deep water as your boat approaches. By day it is dismal enough; by night it is worse. The venomous mosquitoes buzz about you in myriads, strange 'sounds and cries resound through the twisted roots of the trees left bare by the receding tide; and, as the night wears on, a white mist, cold and dank, breathes Meathly clamminess over all. It was just sunrise in this delectable region. The rays had even gilded the sombre upper branches of the mangroves with a sparkle of golden colour, although as yet the sullen mist was still rising in white wreaths from the bosom of the sluggish tide. Anchored in mid-stream was a small boat, apparently without occupants, but presently the sail that in a tumbled heap had been lying on the bottom, was disturbed and a sleepy man emerged from beneath its shelter; as he stood up, another threw the sail back and got up too. They were both towzled,^ dirty, and looking about as cross-grained as men might be expected to do who had passed 'a cramped night in the bottom of a boat, with millions of mosquitoes thirsting for their blood-and getting it. Copy-text: Bulletin. Apparatus: Syd (see pp. 3-5 for details). • high-tide] high tide Syd ^ Like.. .helm.] Om. Syd ' again] then Syd ' occupants] denizens Syd ' or] and Syd ' who noiselessly glides] which glides noiselessly Syd ' sounds and] Om. Syd ' deathly] deadly Syd ' a cramped night] the night cramped up Syd IS i6 TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS "No wind!" said the first; "pull again, I suppose, until 'about ten o'clock!" And he stepped forward and commenced to haul up the heavy stone that served as ''an anchor. "I suppose so;" returned the other; "tide against us too, but I think it's just on the turn"-and he settled himself down on the after-thwart and prepared to put out an oar. "My God! he's coming back!" cried the first and 'eldest man, ""dropping the stone he had just hauled up into the bottom of the boat. The other "sprung up and gazed stupidly at the object indicated, that, carried dovm by the still-receding tide, passed slowly within an oar's length of the boat. It was the dead body of a man; the shoulders and the back of the head were alone visible, but the horror of it was unmistakeable-it needed no "two glances to tell its character. "Pull," suddenly cried the younger, dropping on his seat, his voice rising to a shriek; "he's coming ^on board!" Released from her anchor- age the boat had started to voyage down stream in company with the dead man. A few desperate strokes ''put them away from the corpse, and then they rested on their oars and gazed at each other with the sweat of fear upon their faces. "The very alligators won't touch 'him," murmured the younger man at last; "let's get out of this. I'm not fit for anything after yesterday." They pulled a few strokes in silence, then the elder ^an spoke. "Let's get back to camp before we do anything. I'm like you, done up altogether. We'll turn down this creek and then we shan't have to pass him again." And he indicated the direction of the corpse. The boat was headed down a branch creek, and now went with the tide aided by a few lazy strokes from the men, who silently kept on their course. In about an hour's time the creek widened 'out and the sound of surf was audible; then suddenly they shot out from the gloomy, reeking mangrove swamp into sight of the ocean, and a fresh sea breeze came with a puffin their faces, as if to welcome their return. "We're close to the camp," said the elder man as they rested on their oars; "we might have got here last night instead of catching fever and ague in that accursed place." ' about] Om. Syd 'an]Om. Syd ' eldest] elder Syd ■" dropping.. .boat] dropping into the bottom of the boat the stone he had just hauled up Syd "sprung] sprang Syd "two glances] second glance Syd p on board] aboard Syd '' put] took Syd ' him,] ~! Syd ' man] Om. Syd ' out] Om. Syd THE LAST OF SIX 17 "There's so many of these creeks," returned the other; "we could not have made sure in the dark. However, let's land and go across the spit." Pulhng the boat well up the sand and making her fast with a long painter to a straggling "mangrove tree, they stepped "ashore. After taking the sail out and "spreading it to dry on the sand they shouldered their oars and ascended the low spit. Before them, within a short "half-mile lay a semicircular bay, protected by a sand-bank, on which the long surf rollers were breaking white. Within shelter of the bank lay a small lugger, and on the beach, above high water-mark, were rough sheds, and frame erections indicating that it was a beche-de-mer station.* As the two men approached the camp, a woman came out to meet them; a few aborigines and a kanaka or two were also visible. The woman who advanced was dark in ^complexion with wild black eyes and hair. She was rudely dressed and barefooted; there was an air of semi-madness about her that was "startling yet ""fascinating; there was such a world of horror in her 'eyes! "Well," she said in fairly good Enghsh, "you found them?" "One of them," said the elder man, "and when we've had a feed we'll go ''back and look for the other." "One of them!" cried the woman; "''which.'' which.-"' "The one you call Alphonse-the big one." "Oh!" shrieked the woman, "where is he.' Why is he not here.'" "•Why, he's in that creek out there, and there he can stop for ^me, after what you told us he's not fit to be buried." "Dead!" she returned in an awestruck whisper. "But no! the devil cannot die." "Devil or not, he's dead; ''he's dead enough, and nearly turned our stomachs this morning, for his ugly carcase came drifting right on top of us after we thought he went out to sea yesterday." "Now, missus," said the other, "suppose you let us get something to eat, for it was nigh this time yesterday when we started." "You have brought good news," said the woman, "the devil is dead, I will wait on you"-and she hastened to the rude cooking-place and soon returned with food and tea. " mangrove tree] mangrove-tree Syd ' ashore. After taking] ashore; then, having taken Syd * spreading] spread Syd " half-mile] ~, Syd 1 kanaka] Kanaka Syd ' complexion] ~, Syd ' startling] ~, Syd ' fascinating.. .horror] fascinating-such avpful horror shone Syd ' eyes!] ~. Syd " back] Om. Syd ' which.?] -.'— Syd ' Why,] ~! Syd ' me,] ~; Syd '' he's] Om. Syd TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS The meal finished, the two men Ut their pipes, the 'woman watched them anxiously. "You will go again?" she said at last, timidly. One man looked at the other, and then the elder spoke^ "Well, we'll have another hunt, but I warn 'you there's little hope." "No matter," she said, "but let me go with you." "I suppose it's not much odds," returned the man. "Come, Jim, the tide's ''turned now." They shouldered the oars and, followed by the woman, walked back to the boat. The tide was 'at about the same height as when they landed, only now it was flowing. Stepping ""in, they pushed off, and were soon once more amongst the mangroves. The two trepang-fishers had picked up a leaky boat with a starving crew, a strange crew— two men and a woman— escapees from New "Caledonia.5 They brought them to the station and fed "them. "When the men revived they considered the position. The fishers had no intention of handing them over to justice— ""or let us 'call it law; the affair was no business of theirs; but if they took them 4nto Cooktown their capture would be certain. Then the refugees organised a plan. The two men would take their boat and pull up one of the salt-water creeks to the open country; here they would sink the boat, and make their 'way as best they "could through the bush till they ''dropped across some of the outlying stations. The woman, who spoke good English, could go with the fishermen to Cooktown and take her "chance: it was impossi- ble she could stand the hardship of a bush tramp. To this plan the woman vehemently objected, and begged the man she called her husband not to go. Apparently he consented, but during the night the two men slipped away, and in the morning the woman found herself deserted. Then followed a scene of wild lamentation, during which the horrified Englishmen "learnt some of the ghastly details of ''that voyage from New Caledonia-horrors that made them shudder and vow that if one of the men ever turned up he should be delivered over to justice. ' woman watched] women watching Syd ' you] ~, Syd ^ turned] turning Syd 'zl\Otn.Syd °in,]~5j/ know]-, Syd '' trouble:] —, Syd ' it] the body 5j/rf "perhaps,] — Syd TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS As if influenced by some terrible attraction in the glaring eyes of the woman, the "hideous thing approached the side of the boat where she sat. She rose to her feet, in her hand one of the oars. "Dog! devil!" she cried, dashing it into the face of the corpse. "O you, who ate my child before my eyes. You! who lived on man's flesh to save your life-you who have assassinated my "husband. Wolfl what are you now? Dead, dead! And you who ate others shall be eaten by the foul things of this place!" At every epithet she spumed the corpse with the oar imtil with a hideous, life-like action it slowly turned over and disappeared. The spell-bound ^men who had not understood a word of what she said, for she spoke in French, now started into ''action and called to her to sit down. She obeyed; 'and hastening to leave the ''awful scene the two men, their hearts in their throats, were soon back at the mouth of the creek. They buried the 'wretched man, and next morning the lugger hoisted sail for Cooktown having on board the "only survivor of the party of six 'who escaped from New Caledonia. Delcomyn.* ° hideous] ghastly Syd ° husband.] ~! Syd ' men] ~, Syd ' action] ~, Syd ' and] ~, Syd ' awful] Om. Syd ' wretched] murdered Syd " only] woman, the last Syd ' who] who had Syd A Cup of Cold Water. [For The Bulletin.] "Dull, dark scrub all Wound; a sandy, barren soil underfoot, a cloudless sky and a hot, relentless sun 'o'erhead. Even more desolate than the usual dreary-looking scrub of the interior of Australia is this lonely thicket. The trunks of the ''low, stunted trees are gnarled and 'hideously distorted, the foliage is scant and almost shadeless, the ground 'is absolutely free from all undergrowth, and a deep, lifeless 'stillness reigns throughout. Footsteps and laboured breathing; and the repose of the scene is broken by the appearance of a human figure, a worn and wearied man slowly and painfully dragging himself along some horse-tracks, forming a ""kind of trail through the scrub. The imfortunate traveller is a 'piteous sight, his sun-scorched face is thin and haggard with starvation, and his bloodshot eyes gleam with the delirium of thirst, his boots are absolutely ragged, and he leaves a bloody track on the baked ground. At times he sinks 'down beneath the mockery of shade thrown by one of the scrub-trees, then, after a brief rest, renews his toilsome way. Presently a break is visible ahead, and with restored hope the exhausted man pushes on, and ere long, with a hoarse, inarticulate cry of joy, emerges from the scrub on to the bank of a river. A river such as had haunted his dreams-clear, bright, sparkling, splashing in tiny rivulets amongst granite ''boulders and rippling from one wide pool to another. But the river has a strange appearance-no trees line its banks, no rushes fringe its shore, the bed is like a broad channel cut through the Copy-text: Bulletin. Apparatus: Syd and Ei (see pp. 3-5 for details). ■ Dull,] A Silent and gloomy man. For a man of wealth, who, at one time, had been noted for his social qualities and his hospitality, Marten was looked upon with some little wonder by those who lived in his neighbourhood. People spoke of his solitary habits and the frightened, hunted look he always had in his eyes. Rumour even said that that stalwart and attentive man-servant of his was, in reality, a keeper. P Marten was a man whom vengeance had overtaken in this world and he could never forget it./ ****P Dull, Syd ^ around;] ~, Syd 'o'erhead] overhead 5j/ii ' piteous] pitiable ij/i ' down] Om. Syd ' boulders] ~, Syd TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS sandy waste around; 'and down the centre runs the stream of water, the sight of which has brought fresh Ufe to the worn-out wanderer. Slowly he toils across the hot and heavy sand to one of the shallow pools that sparkle in the sunUght, flings himself down and plunges his burning face and cracked lips into the crystal stream, then raises "it quickly with a bitter cry of pain-for this delusive, mocking river is Salter than the "sea!' The first moments of despair passed, the traveller gathers himself together again for a struggle to the last, retraces his steps to the bank and searches for the continuation of the horse-tracks he had been following. Finding these, he once more plunges into the sea of scrub that lines either bank of the river, and slowly staggers on. Three hours have passed and the sun is getting low when there is again a break in the weary, monotonous thicket-a small, comparatively clear, patch of country, in the centre of which rises a conical hill of bare granite rock, Ufting its bald crest and smooth, glistening sides nearly a hundred feet above the expanse of "sombre tree-tops. The open space encircling the foot of the rock is covered with short grass, there are several clumps of Pcork trees^ scattered about, and in a deep depression at the base of the hill is one of the rock-holes peculiar to Western Austraha, nearly half full of rain-water-a deep hole almost like a tank hollowed out by human hands. 2 Refreshed by a long drink, the man 'surveys eagerly the signs of a late encampment. He thrusts his hand 'in the ashes of the fire, but they are cold. He searches anxiously for any scraps of food that may have been left behind, but without avail. Then another hope comes to him, and with his last remaining strength he climbs the side of the naked rock and stands upright on the summit gazing around. A terribly depressing 'panorama, lit up by the last rays of the declining sun, meets his view. North, 'south, and east is a "dead black expanse of scrub without opening, save that here and there he can recognise the sheen of the treacherous salt-water river. As far as eye can see stretches this lonely, lifeless waste, that owns no boundary save the blue haze of the horizon. He then turns to the west. The same stern uniformity, the only difference being that a "dark blue, square-topped ' and] Om. Syd " it] his head Syd " sea!] ~. Syd ° sombre] sad-coloured £/ 'cork trees] cork-trees ij/<^ ' surveys eagerly] eagerly surveys 5yi 'in] into £/ "panorama... view] panorama meets his view, lit up by the last rays of the declining sun Syd ' south,] ~ Syd " dead] grim, Syd " dark blue] dark-blue Syd A CUP OF COLD WATER 23 range is visible far off. No smoke arises anywhere, neither break nor clearing is visible; all is silent, "hopeless, and dead. With one last, despairing look he recognises that the great wilderness has pronounced his doom, and, with hopeless "steps, descends to the rocky hole and throws himself down to await the coming of his last and only friend. Darkness sets in; the clear stars shine bright in a moonless sky, one by one the southern constellations sink lower and lower until they are swallowed up in the black shadow of the gloomy scrub. The distant whoop of an owl, or the melancholy wail of some other ''night bird alone breaks the oppressive stillness, but the sleeper heeds them not. Nature has been kind to him at last and brought him painless slumber. In pleasant dreams his mind wanders far away from the foot of the giant rock where his 'worn-out body is at rest. The grey dawn finds him still alive, but the bitterness of death has passed, he neither cares nor thinks of rescue or "relief, the grim desert around has lost its terrors, he is half-way to another world. Still there is something to be ''done and he takes a loose bit of stone, and drags himself alongside a flat rock which is covered with rude markings, the work of the '^aborigines; and the now petrified tracks of kangaroos and emus, the ''trail of serpents and lizards, and, keeping guard over all, a gigantic human track with six toes, the mystic footprint of the aboriginal devil.* Amongst these savage emblems the dying man scrawls his name and the date; that done, he feels that his earthly cares are over. He thrusts his hand inside his shirt as though to grasp some object there with loving care, and with a sigh of relief his head falls back and he thinks no more of heat or thirst or hunger, for Death, the comforter, has ''given him a release. Four months have passed, the weather has been unchanged. Day after day a cloudless sun has looked down on the lonely body, gradually shrivelling up into a liideous mummy; day after day has seen it untouched by bird or beast; even the scavenger crows have shunned the spot, and the dead white man has lain in soUtude all the time. Two men are now standing by the remains, horses are feeding around on the dry " hopeless,] ~ Syd merciless Ei ' steps] step Syd 1 night bird] night-bird Syd ' worn-out... rest] body rests Syd ' relief... around] relief; the encircling desert Syd '' done] ~, Syd ' aborigines... petrified] aborigines: imitations of the Syd ' trail] trails Syd ' given him a] brought him full Syd ' hideous] withered Syd 24 TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS grass, and two black boys are kindling a fire a short distance away. One of the men, a young fellow of about three-and-twenty, kneels down and reverently takes from the fleshless hand the object it has held so long in the clutch of death-a worn and weather-stained note-book. Rising, he calls to one of the ^oys to bring a blanket, which he throws over the body, and the two "silently go down to their camp. "Tom," says the young man, "we have found what we started to look for sooner than I expected. God help Marten when I meet 'him." "The black boy's yam must have been right," returned Tom. "True as gospel. Over a hundred and fifty miles he must have come in on foot, starving, and for every mile 'that my father trod to meet his death here on this ''rock the murdering cur who left him out there to die shall suffer bitterly in return, or my name's not Manning. Now, let us see what he has written." The message of the dead man to his son was short, but pregnant. It While I was away from camp Marten packed up, and taking all the horses and the two boys, started home. I came back with my horse knocked up and sore-footed and found the camp deserted. We 'found some splendid country on the heads of the G — and the L — ,' and I think he means to go down and take it up for himself, trusting to my never turning up again. I must follow on foot as best I can, for my horse is dead lame 1 have been walking now for two days and my feet are cut to pieces on the ranges; perhaps when I get down on ""to the level country I may get along better. . . Quite "done up; I have done my best "and can hold out no longer; if anyone finds this let them take it and the note to my son, John Manning, Ballarat, Victoria. Between the leaves was 'one torn out and folded ''note shape. It ran: Dear Jack,-Marten left me to die of starvation at the head of the _ River. I have struggled along so far, but must lie down and die here God bless you, my boy. There was silence after reading this. Tom broke it first. "Marten sold the country well, didn't he.?" » boys] blacks Syd " silently go down] go silently Syd ' him.] ~! Syd ' that] Om. Syd '' rock] ~, Syd ' found] discovered Syd " to] Om. Syd » done] knocked 5yrf ' thought,] ~, and ij-ii 'why]~,5j/J " Manning; and] ~. And Syd ° due] ~, Syd ° thought] ~, Syd p after.. .Marten] Marten, after some hesitation, Syd ' perfectly.. .concerned] most profitable speculation Syd ' to the South] southward Syd ' conferences] ~, Syd ' strict] Om. Syd " some] Om. Syd " South West] south west Syd ' ' man was] man, Syd A CUP OF COLD WATER 27 was the better for him. Strange schemes intruded themselves into his brain of playing "him the ''same old trick he had played Manning, if the reef turned out anything like the specimens that had been produced. If Fortune dealt trumps in his hand why should he not take advantage of ^it? Their way was a weary one, some of it across sandy spinifex plains, and part of it through mulga-only twice did they come to any water, in 'both instances a brackish native well. On the fourth day they ""came to rough, broken country, and his companion pointed to a range and said that the reef was there. That night they camped at a small rock-hole 'that just sufficed for their wants and those of their horses. Next morning the prospector said they ''had better leave their spare horses and ride on, look at the reef, and come back, as there was no water beyond 'the little rock-hole. After about three hours' ride they halted at the foot of a frowning range from which some deep ravines ran down into the lower coimtry. Here the prospector pulled up. "We had better," he said, "tie our horses "up to this tree and go up the gully on foot-^it is too rough for horses." '"So they dismounted and fastened the horses to a tree. "I am not quite sure which of the two guUies it is-they are both so much alike; you go up this one and I'll go up the other. If you see anything of my old tracks fire your revolver, if not, come back here and wait for me. They parted, and Marten made an unsuccessful ascent of the gully. There were no tracks nor any 'sign of auriferous country, and tired, thirsty, and 'disgusted he returned to the rendezvous. The horses were ''gone. Was it possible he had made a mistake.' No; there were the tracks. Had they broken their bridles and made off? A distant noise drew his attention to a ridge about half-a-mile away. There was the prospector riding homewards, leading Marten's horse. Marten yelled and cooeed, without attracting any attention; then he drew his revolver to fire a shot, but an empty click was the only response. He looked at it; the cartridges had been removed. There was no doubt he was being purposely left behind. As 'the thought flashed through "him "the man pulled °up, as if to confu-m it, on the crest of the ' him] his companion Ei ' same old] Om. Syd ' it] them Syd ' both instances] each instance Syd ' came to] reached Syd ' that] which Syd ' had better] must Ei ' the little rock-hole] this place Ei ' up] Om. Syd ' it is] it's Ei '' So... tree] They dismounted Syd ' sign] signs Syd i disgusted] ~, Syd ' gone.] ~! Ei ' the] this Syd ° him] his mind 5)/^ " the] the receding £/ ° up.. .it,]\ip Syd 28 TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS ridge and looked back. Taking off his hat, he waved a mocking salute, and then vanished down the far side. With all the terror that now crowded into Marten's brain there was one predominant Pthought-what was the motive for deserting him.' ""It seemed an absolute certainty that he had been purposely lured to his death. But why? Then a cold shiver ran through him. Had Manning come to Ufe after all and paid someone to play him this trick? He rallied himself and started to follow the track of the horses. It was evident no one would come back for him; he must help himself It was dark when he got 'back to the rock-hole where they had camped the night before, and, although he knew that it could not be otherwise, yet it was with horror he noticed that the place was deserted, packs, horses, everything gone. There was a little muddy water at the bottom of the "hole and he drank it greedily. He passed an awful night, the mysterious suddenness of the blow overwhelmed him. If he had had a chance to argue or explain it would have been different, but all around him was silence and the desert. "Plead to 'that," a mocking voice seemed to say. Next morning at grey-dawn he was off along the back track, and doggedly pursued his way until the loose sand and spinifex compelled him to seek rest. He had no water-bag, so he had thrown his useless revolver away and filled the pouch with some of the muddy water, perhaps he could struggle through to the second native well-but 60 "miles, it was a long way. That 'night passed in the slumber of exhaustion; next "morning with stiffened limbs, he recommenced his march, and now his "water supply was exhausted. Noontide found him lying under a mulga-bush, praying for death. The sound of an ap- proaching horse aroused him; the prospector had repented and turned back. He halted near the exhausted man, ''and leaning on his horse's neck looked calmly at him. "Do you know who I am?" he said. "I am Jack Manning, the son of the man you murdered. I have brought you out here to die the same death you condemned him to. I know everything, I found his dead body, his note-book, and a letter to me, I also found one of the boys you had with you. ^He followed you nearly one hundred and fifty miles, then he died 'of exhaustion; I intend you to do the same, and also to have the pleasure of watching you do it. I I" thought] question 5)iii ''lt...-why}] Om.Syd ' hack] Om. Syd 'ho\e]~,Syd 'thit,] ~\Syd "miles,] ~!-5j/(/ ' night] night was 5j/i/ " morning] ~, Syd ' water supply] water-supply Syd ' and] ~, Syd ' He] My father Syd ' of] of hunger and Syd A CUP OF COLD WATER 29 have no intention of letting you die just yet, so I will give you a quart of water and you must make that do until you reach the second well." Manning dismounted, filled his quart-pot from the water-bag he was carrying and placed it on the ground, when, just as he was riding off, the wretched man broke the spell of shameful silence that held him and begged and implored mercy. It was useless. As though ""he were stone-deaf. Manning rode away and left him to plead to the sand, the ''mulga and the spinifex; once more the silence and horror of the desert were around him. On the fourth day, in a state of delirium, he staggered to the native well and buried his face in the tepid, brackish water. His enemy was not visible. Should he wait here for death.' He fell ""insensible while thinking. When he awoke it was morning, and he thought he would make the attempt to reach the other well; perhaps his foe would relent. He staggered wearily on, and when the day grew hot sank down 'to die at the foot of a sand-ridge. "Do you repent?" said a voice. Manning was standing over him. His swollen tongue refused to answer, but he feebly raised his hand. "Drink," said his enemy: "I tan't see even j/o« die of thirst." With all the fierce longing burning within him for the sweet, cool draught, he yet thought that it were better to die now than live to undergo it all 'again, and, with a last effort, he put the proffered bag aside. "Let me die," he ''groaned, in a scarcely audible voice. "Drink," said the other, "I will spare your life, though I cannot forgive; 'drink and repent." He held the mouth of the bag to his enemy's hps and moistened them. The touch of the cool water was too much; with a feverish grasp the half-dead man seized the bag and drank greedily. Then, with a wild laugh, he fell back insensible. "Is it too late, I wonder.?" thought Manning, looking at 'him. It was too late for his reason, but not for his life. He died in the asylum at Kew,' raving of the phantom who had haunted him during that journey through the waterless desert. Delcomyn. *■ he were] Om. Syd ' mulga] ~, Ei ' insensible] unconscious Syd ' to die] Om. Ei ' can't] cannot Syd ' again] once more Syd " groaned,] ~ 5j'rf° nhat] which 5j/rf ' proved to me] told me that Syd ' Everyone] Evelyone Syd >' very] Om. Syd ' think] tink 5>^ 'to] Om.Syd ^ v/is] were Syd ' was] proved ij/rf THE RUMFORD PLAINS TRAGEDY 33 by a blow on the back of the neck! I almost fainted when I heard it. The men were all away at the yards, and no "strangers had been seen about the place. Poor "Tommy; I cried bitterly all the morning. His body was laid out and I put some flowers on "him, he was such a good-hearted, faithful fellow. Papa is very ""indignant and says he will never rest until the guilty party is found out; I never saw him so roused before. He says it is a most abominable crime to be committed in broad day. While I was still sorrowing over poor Tommy's fate the mail arrived. Such glorious news! A letter from Tred saying that his uncle has retired and handed his practice over to him; so now there's no reason why we can't get married at once and bring our long engagement to an end-so he writes. Papa's very pleased, too; he 'says that the practice is worth nearly two thousand a year, and we are actually going to start ''to Sydney to- morrow morning, so I'm tired out packing up. Mr. Vaughan and Mr. Muspius came over this evening. They both seemed so absent-minded and jealous of each other. I suppose 'papa told them what had happened when they went out on the verandah to smoke, for they both, I am glad to say, went away early. Poor Tommy! this good news put his death "almost clean out of my head for the moment. IV. Statement of Ah Foo, Cook at Rumford Plains. (Translated into ordinary English.) I remember May ist. I was looking out of the kitchen window when I saw Mr. Vaughan ride up. Just as he ""was going up to the house. Tommy, Miss Lawrence's pet emu, "came up and pecked at the buckles on his saddle-pouch, and his horse started back and broke "his bridle. Mr. Vaughan turned back and caught his ''horse and when Tommy came up again, he hit him with the butt-end of his whip on the back of ^his neck, and knocked him down. After looking at him for a Minute, he got on his horse again and rode back to town. I went out to see if Tommy was dead, and as he ""was not quite, I finished him, for he was always in mischief Just then I saw Mr. Muspius coming, so I put "strangers] stranger ij/rf ' Tommy,] ~\Syd °\um]it Syd f indignant] ~, 5)/(/ 1 Fred] ~. Syd ' ' says] said Syd ' to] for Syd ' papa] Papa Syd " almost clean] right 5)/;/ " was going up to] approached 5j/ii "came] went Syd ' his] the Syd ' horse] ~, Syd ' his] the Syd ' minute] moment Syd ' was not quite] still moved Syd 34 TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS Tommy up against the fence with his head through, to hold him up, and "Tvent back into the kitchen. Mr. Muspius looked round when he got off and saw Tommy, so he gave him a flick with the double of the ''stockwhip he was carrying, and Tommy tumbled down. He thought he'd killed him, for he got on his horse again and rode away just the same as Mr. Vaughan. I put poor Tommy up again with his head through the fence, and 'just then Mr. Lawrence came along. "There's that d — * emu," he said, "trying to get into the garden;" and he picked up a stick and threw it at him, and down went 'poor Tommy. I came out and looked at him and he looked at me. "My word," I said, "Missee Lawrence make a fuss." "Hush," he said, "you no savee anything;" and he gave me a pound-and he went in and tell Missee some abominable wletch killed Tommy. That afternoon I went into Wattleville, and Mr. Muspius gave me a pound not to ''tell and Mr. Vaughan gave me another. Then, in the evening, Missee Lawrence came into the kitchen and said: "Ah Foo, I'm going to Sydney to-morrow morning to get married. Here's a pound to bury poor Tommy properly." Next morning young Wilson, the new-chum, from the next station, came over, and he said, when he saw Tommy: "Ah Foo, I want an emu-skin to send home to England, to say I shot him. You skin me this nicely and I'll give you a pound." That velly good emu, that makee me flive pounds. Delcomyn. = went back into] returned to Syd ' stockwhip] stock-whip Syd ' just] Om. Syd ' poor] Om. Syd ' bominable wletch] "bomniable wletch" Syd ^ tell] ~, Syd The Story of "the Big Pearl. (For The Bulletin.) "'Chapter I. Lazily riding at anchor, in company with some half-dozen others, is a small lugger, one of a pearling fleet.' It is almost a dead calm, and on the northern horizon there is a hazy suspicion of land, the coast of New Guinea. The midday spell is drawing to a close, and the coloured crew are rousing themselves from their short nap under the awning stretched amidships. In the cabin, permeated, as is all the rest of the vessel, by an ancient and '^shlike smell, a couple of Malays are in earnest conference: Abdrahim, the diver, and Syed, his tender. In the bronzed hand of the former hes a lustrous and beautiful ''pearl; a globe of soft moonlight, such a pearl as is found but 'once in two centuries. Both men know that it is of priceless value, and are eagerly gloating over it, discussing, meanwhile, the best %ieans of disposing of their find to the greatest possible advantage. Presently Abdrahim wraps up the treasure in a piece of rag and places it in his box, which he locks; then, followed by Syed, goes on ''deck and proceeds to array himself in his diving-gear. This completed, he is helped over the side and stands on the wooden rung of the short ladder, with his head and shoulders above the surface of the ""water waiting while Syed and a Kanaka put on the helmet and screw in the mouthpiece. Take your last look at the bright sunlight, and inhale your last breath of the fresh sea-breeze, Abdrahim, for that pure, flawless gem has done its work. 'Syed will not share with you the proceeds of the spoil-you now go to your death. The helmeted head disappears beneath the unruffled surface of the 'sea and Syed takes his place at the pump. The nondescript crew pay little heed to his actions; again and again the life-line quivers, but Syed is lost in a pleasant dream of the future in which he wonders at the surpassing folly of his countryman in trusting his life in his hands just Copy-text: Bulletin. Apparatus: Syd audi Ei (see pp. 3-5 for details). " the] a Syd " Chapter I.] Om. Syd ' fishlike] fish-like Syd ° ° pearl;] ~ Syd ° ' once. . .centuries] twice in a century Syd ' means] way Syd 'deck]-, Syd " water] -,£/ ' Syed.. .death.] Om. 5^ 'sen]-, Syd 35 36 TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS after showing him the glorious pearl hidden away in the cabin. Abdrahim, he knows well, is suffocating below the lugger's keel, but the Malay's swarthy features are calm and emotionless until he sud- denly calls ''hastily to the others, and they drag to the surface the now lifeless form of the diver. An accident, of course-something must have gone wrong with the pump, he rapidly explains to the men as they divest the corpse of the dress, and laying it on the deck cover it with a spare sail. Towards evening a breeze springs up and the lugger, with the dead Malay on board, steers for Thursday Island.^ The little township on the island is fast asleep, eight bells have been struck on board the E. and A. steamer^ at anchor in the stream, and the last sound of 'human revelry has died away. Near an old ""boatshed in whispered "conversation stand Syed and a Chinaman. The Malay is excited and eager, the Chinaman apathetic, with a cunning assumption of indifference. The big pearl is being extolled on one side and depreciated on the other. Subtle Hi Long is assuring Syed that he has quite over-estimated the worth of his find, and the Malay is vehe- mently asserting its wonderful value. They part, after long dispute, Hi Long calm and confident, Syed angry and upset. He coils up in his blankets under the old boatshed, and after an hour or two of troubled tossing falls into a deep slumber that lasts until long after sunrise. When he awakes he sits up, fumbles underneath the bundle that serves him for a pillow, and draws out a common red silk handkerchief with a knot tied in one comer; glancing apprehensively "around he unties the knot to feast his gaze upon his treasure. With a yell he springs up, his eyes ablaze with fury and despair, for the big pearl is gone. He has been robbed during his late sleep. A mist of blood swims before his eyes and blots out all his dreams of wealth. Blood-that is what he wants, and he draws his knife and rushes through the door out on ^to the beach, no longer a man but a beast of "iprey, seeking to glut his raging thirst for vengeance on the first object crossing his path. A group 'of men are right in his way, and almost before they are aware of it, he is amongst them striking and stabbing right and left, seeing before him nothing but a crowd of grinning ^Chinese taunting him with the loss of his ' hastily] loudly Syd ' human] Om. Syd " boatshed] ~, Syd ° conversation] ~, Syd ° around] ~, Ei ^ to] 0»«. Ei ' Pfey,] prey, a Malay running amok, Syd ' of] of coloured Syd ' Chinese] ~, Syd THE STORY OF THE BIG PEARL 37 fortune. Two are knifed before they can recover from their surprise- one of the 'remainder, a gigantic kanaka, has fortunately an axe in his hand, and before the madman can stab again he is cut down. He rises once more with the blood streaming down his face and rushes out on the "boat-jetty leaving a ruby track on the rough stones. With one last wild stab at the phantom fleeing before him, he plunges into the 'sea and Syed has gone to reckon with the ghost of the murdered Abdrahim. The E. and A. steamer going south that morning has an additional ^passenger forwards, in the person of Hi Long, who flnds he has urgent business which compels him to leave Thursday Island immediately. "Chapter II. "And what do you think the value of it is?" The question was asked by a young man, of an elderly one, in a small office in London. "The value, my dear boy, is whatever can be got for it. Gems, as you are aware, can be of such value as to be almost valueless, because nobody can be found wealthy enough to afford to purchase them. The pearl, fabulously supposed to have been dissolved by Cleopatra,'' was estimated in modern money at ^£80,000. This we may put down as the romance of history. Cleopatra, a keen woman of the world, had far too much sense to commit such folly, and £80,000 had far more purchasing power then than it has now. However, this is a most rare and valuable pearl; it is absolutely flawless, and I may venture to say that it is worth as much money as you would make in twenty years' work. Now what ' remainder.. .fortunately] remainder, has, fortunately, Syd " boat-jetty] ~, Syd " sea] ~, Syd " passenger forwards,] steerage passenger Syd ' Chapter n...[4i:9] Delcomyn.] Through the still waters, guarded by the great barrier of coral, the steamer pursues her southern course. For two nights she has had to anchor amongst the then httle known dangers of the treacherous northern coast, and now, on the third, the steady pulsation of the engines tells that she is running at half-speed through a comparatively open sea. The officer on the bridge is talking to the coast pilot, as they pass backwards and forwards. Unobserved a figure rises from amongst those recumbent on the fore-hatch and approaches the side. The coloured man on watch on forward happens to turn round-"Hoy, Chinaman!" he yells. Too late, there is a splash, and the two men on the bridge are just in time to see a white face gleam past the bar of light. P The telegraph rings and the steamer comes quickly round. P "One of the Chinese passengers just jumped overboard, sir," says the officer to the captain when he comes on the bridge. P A boat is lowered, uselessly of course. Hi Long, after gambling away all his gains, including the big pearl stolen from Syed, has gone to the bottom. P "Why the deuce couldn't he have done it quietly?" says the captain, as the boat is being run up to the davits; "we've lost half-an-hour through him." Syd 38 TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS is the story about it?" "I came home from Singapore, as you know, by way of AustraUa. At Thursday Island we took on a few more Chinese passengers; but before reaching Cooktown one of these committed suicide by jumping over- boardMt seems he had been gambling and lost all his money. When we got to Cooktown one of the Chinese came to me and offered me this pearl for sale. He knew it was valuable, but had no idea that it was anything out of the common. It seems that he won it from the man who committed suicide, who had got it at Thursday Island-stolen it, I suppose; anyhow, the loss of it drove him mad, and he went overboard. To make a long story short, I gave the fellow fifty pounds for it, and you are the first who has seen it since I bought it." The elderly man, a well-known and wealthy dealer in precious stones, looked thoughtful for a moment. "Leave it with me for a day or two, Tom," he said to his nephew, "and I'll do the best I can with it. I know an Indian prince who's in London just now, and if I can't sell it, I may be able to exchange it for more marketable stones." "To tell you the truth, uncle," returned Tom, "I shall be very glad to handle the cash, so don't put too astounding a price on it." His uncle smiled as he bade his nephew good day. "Tom, my boy, don't you think I'm old enough to understand my business by this time.' Come to dinner to-morrow and hear how I've got on." The jewel-merchant was sitting in his office next day; opposite to him was a swarthy-faced, well-dressed man of middle age who was gazing admiringly at the big pearl. "I should like to know the story of this pearl before your nephew bought it," he said in perfectly good English. "In all probability the Chinaman who jumped overboard, bought it for a song from a diver who had secreted it. They cannot well sell them openly, so they have to take what they can get. Of course, in the first place, it must have been stolen, but it would be impossible to place the right owner now." "I am quite convinced that your nephew's title to it is good," replied the prince, "or he would never have reached home." "One of your Eastern fables.'" said the merchant with a slight smile. "No fable,'' returned the Indian; "the history of my country and my own family traditions prove it. A precious stone gained by fraud or bloodshed invariably brings ruin on the culprit." THE STORY OF THE BIG PEARL 39 "That reminds me that on the morning my nephew left Thursday Island, where the Chinaman who committed suicide came on board, one of the Malays engaged in the pearl-fishery ran amok, seriously wounded two men and jumped into the sea." "In all probability he was the man who first found it, but I won't argue with you, for your British common-sense is, I well know, not to be convinced. Will you wait on me to-morrow and we will come to terms about this piece of a diseased oyster." "I will, prince. When do you intend starting once more on your travels.'" "In a few days. I am going right round the world by Australia. I am on the look-out for a good secretary; do you know of one?" The merchant shook his head. "I will advertise," said his visitor as he left the Chapter III. Australia once more. The Indian prince had purchased the big pearl, had obtained another treasure in the shape of a perfect secretary, and was now in Melbourne at the close of the southern summer. The secretary had been selected out of many apphcants, and, in all respects, had proved himself fitted for the position. It is nearly midnight. In a room where evidently a supper-party has just been held are M'Auhffe, the secretary, and a woman of about five-and-twenty. She is as faultless in face and figure as the great pearl itself: but it is a purely animal beauty. Her eyes have the hard, fierce light of a bird of prey, but to him they are as soft as the dove's. "Is your mind made up at last.''" she says. "It is. Love and fortune with you; is it likely I should hesitate.?" "I knew I was right, after all; when that empty-headed Compton was running you down I told him what I thought of you." "You did undertake my defence then? What did the fool say of me?" "That you were only fit to be the servant of a nigger." The young fellow ground his teeth and turned red and then pale as she repeated the brutal taunt. "I will be even with him before we leave here," he muttered. "Now say good night," went on Delilah, laying a firm warm hand on his shoulder. "To-morrow we will make our final arrangements to meet in Brisbane." Shortly afterwards M'Auliffe left the place and hastened to his own 40 TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS home in the house occupied by the prince. His employer was still up, writing in a small room that served as an office. The secretary looked in and the prince beckoned to him. "Been out to supper.'" he asked in a kindly tone. M'Auliffe said yes and sat down. "I am going to have a few friends to dinner to-morrow," went on his employer, "and amongst them is General Ashdown, who was resident in the province* some years ago. To-morrow I want you to come down with me to the bank and take charge of some jewels I have there; he is a great connoisseur, and I especially want to show him the big pearl." After some more conversation on the subject they separated for the night, and the secretary went to bed to lie awake thinking of the future. Never strong-minded, he had been led on to contemplate robbery, but he never anticipated such a chance as awaited him on the morrow. He had intended to forge the prince's name for some ^£3000, and make off with whatever valuables he could lay hands on, taking with him as a companion the woman he had left that night. Now the great pearl that he had heard valued at from forty to fifty thousand pounds was put in his reach, and he would indeed be only fit to be "a nigger's servant" if he let slip such a chance. The dinner-hour had arrived; M'Auliffe had been entrusted with the big pearl and a few stones more rare than intrinsically valuable. He had pleaded headache as an excuse from being present at dinner, and the prince now sent a servant to his room to ask him to bring down the pearl for inspection. He was not there, he was not in the house. The one and truthful conclusion was jumped at by everybody. He had absconded with the valuables. The prince took it with Oriental stoicism. "Poor fool!" he said more to himself than to the company. "He'll never be able to get rid of it," said General Ashdown, thinking he referred to the certainty of detection if he offered the pearl for sale. "No," replied the Indian; "it will get rid of him, though. That fellow has signed his own death-warrant. Wait, General, and you will see." The escape was well managed, the woman had planned the details and not a clue was obtained as to the whereabouts of the thief A fortnight elapsed when the police received a telegram from Townsville, Queensland, stating that M'Auliffe had been seen and THE STORY OF THE BIG PEARL 41 recognised on the B. and I. steamer Quetta.' The prince and the General were together when the news was communicated to the former. He shrugged his shoulders. "I am glad I'm not on board," he said to his friend. "Orders to detain the absconder were wired to the last port of call at Thursday Island." M' Auliffe and his so-called wife were not amongst those saved from the wreck of the Quetta.' So with that ill-fated steamer sank the great pearl and its latest possessors. Delcomyn. The Stolen Colours. (For The Bulletin.) An exclusively male society, such as ours was on the Baroma River,' is apt to get along very smoothly for years, provided that all of the individuals composing it are fairly companionable. There were five stations on the Baroma, all cattle-stations. Sheep had been tried on the country, but without success, and now the only marks of their former presence were some roofless huts and the bare patches of ground where once stood sheep-yards; for it was before the days of fences and boundary-riders.^ Three of the stations were managed by their own- ers; the other two belonged to Sydney and Melbourne firms, and were in the charge of superintendents, of whom I was one. Markwell, the other superintendent, was perhaps the only man who did not quite fit in to our Uttle coterie. There was no gainsaying his smartness and ability, but he had a bad temper, and an evil habit of sneering. Elliot, the owner of Bendalla, the largest station on the river, was a widower. He had one son, who lived on the station with him, and two daughters, who at the time of my story had just arrived on a protracted visit, and created quite an upset in the hitherto even tenor of our way. Hayward, who owned Pixie, the next station to the one I was managing, was a professed woman-hater, and affected to look on the interest displayed in the new-comers with lofty scorn. Kelly, who had the station on the opposite side of the river, called after that stream, Baroma Plains, fell head over ears in love, straight away with Mary Elliot, the elder girl, and having successfully persuaded that young lady that she was in as hopeless a condition, in less than three months their engagement was a proclaimed fact. Agnes Elliot was two years younger than her engaged sister, and of a very different character. Both were handsome girls, but Mary was easy-going and good-tempered to a fault, while Agnes, was of a more active and passionate nature. A tale of wrong that would win from Mary a few compassionate remarks, would wring hot indignation from Agnes. Copy-text: Bulletin (see pp. 3-5 for details). 42 THE STOLEN COLOURS 43 Jack Elliot, their brother, had always been my especial mate on the river, and naturally on the arrival of his sisters I was thrown a good deal into their society; nor was it long before I learned to love the bright and eager Agnes with a love that could never have been inspired in me by her placid sister. I kept my secret, as I thought, very well, for I had no more prospect of marrying on the extremely limited screw of a cattle-station super. ^ than I had of being made Governor. I might even have got over the fit altogether and cured myself by enforced absence, but for the rivalry of Markwell. He was my senior by some four or five years, had travelled more, and had far more social qualities, when he chose to exert them, than I had; but no better worldly position to recommend him, and knowing the real nature of the man I felt that to suffer him to win such a girl as Agnes Elliot would be a downright wrong to her. That, you may say, is always the way in which the jealous man argues. Men do not love women so deeply as they hate their rivals in the affections of those women. Marriage is more often the result of a man's determination to avoid injury to his own amour-propre* than of any- thing else. Kelly and Mary Elliot were duly married, Baroma Plains rejoiced in a new house and other embellishments, and I was still uncertain as to whether the wayward heart of Agnes inclined to me or not. She had come over to stay with her sister for a while, and one evening I rode across the river ostensibly to see Kelly on some station-business. That was one of the evenings that has ever dwelt in my memory. Never had Agnes been so kind to me. Kelly and his bride, with whom I was first favourite, left us much to ourselves, and half-a-dozen times an avowal of my love was on my lips. How different things might have been had I spoken then! She came on to the verandah to say "Good Night!" to me when I left. For a moment I lingered with her warm hand in mine, and her bright eyes looking at me from the dusky shadow of the verandah; then, with sudden desperation, I pressed her hands to my lips and, with a broken "Good Night!" hurried to my horse, mounted, and rode away. She was still standing in the doorway as I turned for a last look, and waved her hand in reply to my salute; and I rode home, the happiest man on the river. When I entered my small sitting-room I saw that, during my absence, the mail had arrived, for the station-bag was lying on the table. I opened it without much interest in the contents, for I was quite 44 TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS absorbed in a dream of Agnes, but was rather surprised to find among the ordinary correspondence a letter from my only brother in England, with whom I had not corresponded for years-not from any quarrel, but simply through the disinclination to write that grows on most men in the bush. The letter had been delayed through going to a former address. The contents were important, as they notified to me the death of an uncle, who had left his money to my brother and myself and two cousins. My first thought naturally was that now I was in a position to propose to Agnes, and I lay awake all night, determined that not many hours of daylight should elapse ere I was over at Baroma Plains. The next morning the delays seemed never-ending. Horses had escaped from the paddock, a black boy got bucked off and broke his collar-bone, which I had to set, and a messenger came over from Hay ward with a letter requiring a reply . It was 1 1 o'clock ere I was once more in sight of the verandah where I had last seen Agnes. Mrs. Kelly met me with her usual kind smile. Agnes had gone home nearly an hour ago. Jack Elliot had come up for her in a hurry, as his father was starting down to port and wanted Agnes to go down with him. I hesitated whether to go on to Bendalla on the chance of overtaking them, but my presence was absolutely necessary on the station: I could not leave without going back first. "When will they be back.'" I asked, blushing, as I thought that my fair hostess was doubtless reading me like a book. "They will stop until the races. You know we are all going down, and you must come with us." The local races were coming off in about a week at the little shipping port; and most of us on the river had entered horses for the occasion. I thanked Mrs. Kelly for her invitation, which I gladly accepted, and, without telling my news, rode home. Only a week! but it loomed before me like a year. I could not even write, for we had only a weekly mail, and I would be down myself by that time. To add to my annoyance, Markwell, whose place was at the head of the river, came over that night, on his way down to port. I managed to be civil to him, but when I saw him ride away in the morning to the township, where he would be within call of Agnes for the whole week during which I should be tied to the station, I felt inclined to try on him the range of my new rifle. Hay ward came to see me next day, and to him I confided the news of my inheritance. He had been talking of going out west and taking-up some country for which. THE STOLEN COLOURS 45 at that time, there was a great rush, and he urged me to accompany him now that I had the means. He was a shrewd man, for whom I had a great liking, and I promised to weigh the matter carefully. At last the time came when I could fling dull care aside, and, seated on the box beside Kelly, relieving him occasionally of the task of tooling four horses along an abominable road, I felt that every mile brought me nearer to the consummation of my hopes. Arrived in the little port which in those days had not assumed its present dimensions or importance, my first thought, after I had made myself presentable, was naturally to call upon Mr. Elliot. The family, including Kelly and his wife, were located in the house of a friend, a widower, with one little girl, whose habitation was far too big for him. Agnes was out-gone out for a ride with her brother and Markwell. This was a check at the start. While chatting with Elliot the party returned, and, with a very sore feeling in my heart, the meeting I had been so longing for came off How bright and handsome she looked in her close-fitting riding-habit as she came along the verandah and greeted me! Every jealous thought in my mind would have been exorcised but for the presence of Markwell, who gave me a supercilious nod and looked on with an air of insolent proprietorship-at least I thought so-while the ordinary commonplace words were exchanged. She noticed instinc- tively the change in my manner and her pride took fire. Ah! these wretched conceits of self, which do work we can never undo! I stayed to dinner with the Elliots, but had no opportunity to speak to Agnes until some time afterwards, when by chance I saw her sitting apart from the others in the drawing-room with the httle girl, the daughter of their host, at her knee. She was stitching industriously at some ribbon and I lost not a minute in reaching her side. "What is the work. Miss Elliot.?" I said rather awkwardly to break the ice. "My colours for to-morrow's races,"^ she returned. "And who is to wear them.'" I asked, bending down and speaking earnestly. "That depends," she answered, glancing up at me with a smile that put every sore feeling to flight, for I knew they were meant for me. "So we have to congratulate you, Murray," said the hateful voice of Markwell close behind. I turned sharply round, and Agnes flushed quickly, for his words seemed to have a double meaning. 46 TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS "What do you mean?" I asked, rather rudely. "Why, they say you have come in to a pot of money. Is it true.'" So some gabbhng idiot from the station had brought the yarn down and now it was blurted out like this when I had meant to tell Agnes just when I asked her to be my wife! I replied very shortly that an uncle of mine was dead from whom I inherited some money, but my chance was spoilt, and if it had been my rival's object to break up our chat, he succeeded admirably. I guessed that Agnes was hurt that I had not told her brother or father, who had so long been my friends, of my good fortune, not divining my reason for keeping silence. Next morning the whole township was on the racecourse. I rode out the two miles with Jack Elliot, for Kelly had his trap full. I wondered whether Agnes had entrusted the knot of ribbons to her brother, but apparently he was charged with no such mission, so I took the earliest opportunity of presenting myself before the party as soon as I saw them arrive. I had promised to steer a horse of Kelly's in the Hurdle Race, for, as a newly-married man, all such pleasures had been sternly denied him, and Markwell, who was a sporting man, had entered a horse of his own. It was in vain that I lingered around the buggy. Agnes several times seemed on the point of speaking to me confidentially, but something always interfered, and I had at last to go away unsatisfied as the time for our race was approaching. I had donned my jacket, or rather Kelly's, when the man himself came into the tent. "Now, then, Davie," he said, "just one word. I want to win this race, and you can do it if you race Markwell right away from the jump. The others have no show; his horse has more foot than Beeswax (Kelly's horse), but he can't fly his jumps like old Bee can, and if you make it hot from the start, he'll either come to grief or drive you home." I signified my comprehension, and was leaving the tent when he added: "By the way, Mary gave me a message for you from Agnes- something about having lost something; however, she can tell you herself after you've won the race;" and so we sallied forth, I much puzzled at the meaning of the half-forgotten message. Markwell was already mounted and had taken his horse over a hurdle, and was walking him back when I passed him, and there, on the breast of his jacket, was the identical knot of black-and-orange ribbons I had seen Agnes putting together the night before. The sight roused every jealous passion within me; I knew they must THE STOLEN COLOURS 47 be the same, or eke why had I not received them according to the half promise made? "I'll win this race or break Markwell's neck," I muttered to Kelly as he gave me a leg into the saddle. He squeezed my hand, and the next moment Beeswax was over the hurdle like a swallow. There were six of us in the race, but Markwell's horse was the only one I dreaded. We had a good start although Beeswax, excited by his canter, was dancing to get off. I took the lead at once at a pace that few hurdle races are ever ridden, and for half a mile kept it, without seeing a horse. Beeswax taking his jumps just as a matter of course. At the end of the half-mile I heard a rap and a clatter, and glancing round found Markwell just behind me. His horse had twice the pace of Beeswax and he had bustled him over the jumps so far without coming to grief. On the flat he raced up to me without an effort and I knew that my only chance was to rush him at the hurdles. Twice his horse blundered dreadfully, and I was well ahead when we were two jumps from home. If he got over those two jumps safely I was beaten for he would catch me on the straight run in. I knew Markwell's horse was as excitable as he could be, so I pulled Beeswax a little and let him come up and get about half a length ahead, then I put Beeswax at the next jump "all I knew," and he seemed to take the hurdle in his stride. Not so my rival's mount; maddened with the rush of the other horse alongside of him, he scarcely attempted to jump and went down headlong, but fortunately for his rider, sending him rolling ahead. The others were all out of it, so I pulled Beeswax in; put him quietly over the last hurdle and cantered past the winning-post. "He's all right," said Kelly, as he came and took my bridle to lead me in to be weighed, "but he got a devil of a purler." Strange to say, Markwell had escaped almost without a bruise. He had been flung forward, a little to one side, just as the horse was in the act of turning over, and had rolled out of harm's way. The saddle was smashed, and the horse could never be got to face a jump again, but I was really glad that no worse accident had happened. He came up pluckily, in spite of his shaking, and forced a jesting remark about the pace we had ridden. I changed my jacket, and after the usual noisy congratulations, found my way up to Mrs. Kelly and Agnes. "Your colours were unlucky. Miss Elliot," I said, regretting the words the next moment. 48 TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS "My colours, Mr. Murray! I did not know they were in the race." "Mr. Markwell wore them, at any rate," I answered, rather sur- prised. "You are joking," she replied; "and I don't think it in good taste." I drew back, snubbed and offended. Mrs. Kelly put her hand on my shoulder as I stood beside the buggy, and, stooping down, whispered to me, quite energetically for her, "Davie, don't be a fool." I guessed her meaning, and if I could have made my peace then, I would; but I was not afforded the opportunity. Agnes kept me at a distance for the rest of the day. There was a race-ball that night, and I fondly hoped that I should have a chance of an explanation. Markwell, in spite of the heavy fall he had experienced, was there, and exerting all the agreeable qualities he possessed to the utmost. Agnes gave me no excuse for trying to get a moment's private conversation, and in the course of the evening I was lounging in a sulky fit on the verandah, when I saw her and Markwell in deep conversation in a secluded part of it. She was speaking earnestly, although I could not see the expression of her face. I had seen enough, however, for my then temper; apparently she had afforded him the benefit of the confidential interview that she had avoided giving me. I left the ball, and a month afterwards Hayward and I were out west. I stayed out there two years. I heard from Kelly and Jack Elliot, but the name of Agnes seemed carefully tabooed in their letters. One evening I received a visit from an old friend who had a station not very far from the little port where my love-dream had been shattered. He had taken up country beyond Hayward and me, and was on his road to port when he called. "By the way," he said, "you may remember Markwell who got such a spill at the races that time; but, of course, you do, as you rode against him." I nodded assent, and he went on. "I heard he had come out this way to take up country for his firm." "He didn't marry Miss Elliot, then.?" I said in as easy a voice as I could command. "I should think not," replied my friend, "she found him out in a most shabby trick. I'll tell you all about it. You remember the ball after the races? I was out on the verandah behind a screen of plants and flags doing a quiet flirtation, when Miss Elliot and Markwell came on the THE STOLEN COLOURS 49 other side. We couldn't well get out and had to sit there and listen to what they were saying. It seems he had bribed the little girl at the house where the Elliots were staying to steal a knot of ribbon that Miss Elliot had made for somebody else and he had worn it openly at the races as though she had given it to him. That young lady could be very indignant when she liked, and I shouldn't have hked the sarcasm she lashed Mark well with." I was silent for some time, while Russel smoked vigorously, recalling the scene. "I'm tired of this place," I suddenly said; "I'll go down to port with you." "That's famous,'" he returned, "I wanted a mate down." And he turned in while I commenced my preparations. Half-way across what was known as "the dry stage,'' was a shanty, professedly an accommodation house; but, of course, a sly-grog shop.' The man who kept it met us outside the rude thatched verandah and said he was glad we had come as there was a man inside who had "a touch of the sun" and he was afraid he was going to die. We went in to see the poor fellow, and there, on the frowsy bunk, lay my old rival, Markwell. The man said he arrived the day before, on foot, his horse had fallen with him and got away, and he had walked on to borrow another to go after him. He was light-headed and had been so ever since. Russel and I sat up all night doing what we could, but it was useless; the poor fellow died before morning. Once he recognised me and laughed wildly, "You didn't get Agnes after all, Murray," he said, then he relapsed into mad talk about racing. It was a lovely evening when, with my heart in my mouth, I rode up to Baroma Plains, for I preferred to see Mrs. Kelly first. She and her husband were standing on the verandah watching me curiously as I came up. Suddenly Kelly gave a wild whoop and sprang off the verandah. "It's Davie by gum!" he exclaimed, and I was soon standing between them. I looked hard at Mrs. Kelly, hoping she would take pity on me, but I had to ask the question after all. "Agnes.?" Kelly pursed up his lips, "Don't you know.'" he asked. "Know what.?" I demanded, swallowing a big lump in my throat. so TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS "Why, Agnes was married a year ago-she lives-let's see-in Mel- bourne!" I suppose I could not smile, nor even look cheerful, for kind Mrs. Kelly broke in virith, "It's a shame. Nothing of the sort, Davie. Agnes Elliot is in there just now; and to tell you the truth, she must have recognised you before we did, for she slipped-in without a word when you were a long way off Go in and ask her." I did not ask her. I only said one word, and that was her Christian name; and when I took her in my arms for the first time we forgot all about mutual explanation until some time afterwards. Spirit-Led. [For The Bulletin.] Chapter I. It was the hottest day the "Gulf had seen for years. Burning, scorching and blistering heat, beating down directly from the vertical sun, in the •■open, radiating from the iron roof which provided what was mistak- enly called shade. In the whole township there was not a corner to be found where a man could escape the suffocating sense of being in the stoke-hole of a steamer.^ The surroundings were not of a nature to be grateful to eyes wearied with the monotony of plain and forest. The few stunted trees that had been spared "Appeared to be sadly regretting that they had not shared the fate of their comrades, and the barren ironstone ridge on which the township was built gave ''back all the sun's heat it had previously absorbed with interest. Two men who had just come in from the country swore that where they crossed the Flinders the alligators came out and begged for a cold drink from their water-bags; and the most confirmed sceptic admitted the existence of a material hell. Naturally there was little or no business doing and, just as naturally, everybody whose incUnation pointed that way went "on the spree."^ Amongst those who had not adopted this mode of killing old father Time were two men in the verandah of the Royal Hotel. (When Australia becomes republican* it is to be presumed that a 'Royal' will cease to be the distinguishing feature of every township.) "The two men in question were seated on canvas chairs in the ^verandah, both lightly attired in shirt and trousers only, busily en- gaged in mopping the perspiration from their streaming faces, and swearing at the flies. Copy-text: Bulletin. Apparatus: Syd and Ei (see pp. 3-5 for details). ■ Gulf] Gulf* [footnote:] *Gulf of Carpentaria. Syd '' open,] ~; Syd ' appeared.. .not] seemed to sadly regret not having Syd ' back.. .interest] back with interest all the sun's heat it had absorbed Syd ' Two.. .township.)] Om. Syd ' The.. .question] Two men Syd ' verandah,] verandah of one of the principal "hotels," Syd 51 52 TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS "Deuced sight hotter lounging about here than travelling," said Davis, the elder of the two; "I vote we make a start." "I'm agreeable," replied his companion; "the horses must be starv- ing ""out in the paddock. 'We shall have a job to get Delaine away, 'though; he's bent on seeing his cheque through." "That won't take long at the rate he's going. He's got every loafer in the town hanging about ''after him." "Hullo! what's that.'" said the other, as the shrill whistle of a steam-launch was heard. "Oh! of course, the steamer arrived at the mouth of the river last night; that's the launch coming up.^ Shall we go down and see who is on board.'" The two men got up and joined the stragglers who were wending their way across the bare flat to the bank of the river. 'The passengers were "few in number, but they included some strangers to the place; one of "whom, a "young-looking man with white hair and ■'beard, immediately attracted Davis' attention. "See that chap, Bennett.-"' he said. "Yes, Dick, who is he.?" "Some years ago he was with me 'droving for a trip; when we started he was 'as young-looking as you, and his hair as dark. It's a true bill' about a man's hair going white in one night. His did." "What from.? Fright.?" "Yes. 'We buried him alive by mistake." "The deuce you did!" "He had a cataleptic fit' 'when he was on watch one night. The other man-we were double-banking the watch' at the time-found him as stiff as a poker, and we all thought he was dead, there "was no sign of life in him. It was hot wea±er-as bad as this-and we couldn't keep him, so we dug a grave, and started to bury him at sundown.' He came to when we were filling in the 'grave; yelled blue murder, and fright- ened the life out of us. His hair that night turned as you see it now, although he vows "that it was not the fright of being buried alive that did it." "What then.?" » out] Om. Syd ' We] But we Syd ' though;] Om. Syd ' after] Om. Syd 'The] Some of the 5V " few...some] Om. 5^ ° whom] them 5)/i • deith,] ~; Syd " me;] ~ , SyJ ' happened to] befallen Syd ' tell] say Syd ' pretty] Om. Syd 'on] aimlessly 5yi/ " seem] seemed Sj/rf « last] ~, 5j/a! ' here,] ~- Syd •■ Government.] ~? Syd • up] Om. Syd ° while, then] ~. Then Syd ' said] ~, Syd ° SPIRIT-LED 59 "I may as well tell you all," he said then; "I was in Melbourne, after I saw Milford, and I met a girl with that same face, in the street. Strange, too, we could not help looking at each other as though we knew we had met before. That meeting decided me on taking the trip up here. Now, that is really all. Are you ready for the adventure?" "I should think so," said ""Davis; "we have fresh horses at the camp, and nothing to do with ourselves for three months or more. Please God, 'on Christmas Day we'll be on Tom Tiddler's ground picking up gold in chunks."" "One question more," put in Bennett. "Have you ever had any return of these trances or cataleptic fits?" "Never since, not the slightest sign of one." Chapter III. There was no doubt about the strange proof or coincidence, which- ever it should turn out to be. The three men stood on the bank of the Nicholson "River gazing at the gorge and the waterhole, from the bosom of which rose the two upright pillars of rock. rTwo weeks had elapsed since they were camped at the lagoon. "''It is the same place," muttered 'Maxwell, and, as the overwhelming horror of his fight through shadowland came back to him, he leant on his horse's shoulder and bowed his head down on the mane. Bennett made a sign to 'Davis and both ""men were silent for a 'while, then Davis spoke- "Well, old man, as we ""are not possessed of the supernatural power you had when you were last here, we'll have to get over that range somehow." Maxwell lifted his head. "We "shall have to tackle the range, but I expect we shall have a job to get the horses over. How about leaving them here in hobbles and going up on foot?" "Not to be thought of," replied Davis; "why, the niggers' tracks just back there in the bed of the "river, are as thick as sheep-tracks. The horses would be speared before we got five miles away. I know these beggars." "That's true," said Bennett. '' Davis;] ~, 5)/(/ ■ on.. .we'll] we'll soon 5)/^ ' River] Om. Syd ' Two weeks] A fortnight Syd " It is] It's Syd ' Maxwell,] ~- Syd ' Davis] ~, Syd ' men] Om. Syd ' while, then] ~. Then Syd " are not] aren't Syd " shall have to] must Syd ° river,] ~ Syd 6o TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS Davis eyed the range curiously for some time. "There's a spur there that we can work our way up, I think," he said at last, indicating with his hand the spot he meant. The other two, after a short inspection, agreed with him. It was then nearly noon, so the horses were turned out for a couple of hours' spell, a fire lit and the billy boiled. "What could have led your Dutch sailor up this way?" said Davis as, the meal over, they were enjoying ""an after-dinner pipe. "That is what has puzzled me. I have read up everything I could get hold of on the subject of Dutch discovery and can find no record of any ship visiting the Gulf about that date," replied Maxwell. "There may have been plenty of ships here, of which neither captain nor crew wanted a record kept. Those were the days of the buccaneers," said Bennett. "Yes, but with the exception of the ship ""Dampier was on board of, they did not come out of their way to New Holland," returned Maxwell. "The Bachelor's Delight and the Cygnet were on the 'west coast,""" as you say; why not others *who had not the luck to be associated with 'the immortal Dampier.'" "True; but the Dutch were not noted as buccaneers. However, plenty of ships may have been lost in the Gulf of which all record has disappeared. The question is, what brought the man up into this region.'" said Davis. "I firmly believe we shall "fmd the clue to that secret, when we find the ravine. It seems incredible that a shipwrecked or marooned man should have left the sea-coast, whereon was his only hope of salvation, and have made south into an unknown land, through such a range as this." "Well, boys, we'll make a start for it," said Davis, jumping up; and the party were soon in their saddles. The range proved 'pretty stiff climbing, and they were so often baulked, and forced to retrace their steps, that it was sundown "before they reached the top. ' an after-dinner] a Syd i Dampier was on board of] which had Dampier on board Syd ' west coast] West Coast Syd ' who] which Syd ' the immortal] Om. Syd " find] get Syd ' pretty] Om. Syd " before] ere Syd SPIRIT-LED 6i It was a desolate outlook for a camp. A rough tableland of spinifex- evidently extending too far for them to "attempt to go on and descend the other side before darkness set in-lay before them. "Nothing for it but to go on and tie the horses up all night," said Bennett. Fortune, however, favoured them; in about a mile they came ''on a small patch of grass, sufficient for the horses, and as their water-bags were full, they gladly turned out. Tor a time the conversation turned on their expectations for the morrow, but gradually it dropped, as the fire died down. One by one the stars in their courses looked down through the openings of the tree-tops on the wanderers sleeping below, and silence, save for the occasional clink of a hobble, reigned supreme until the first flush of dawn. "Well, Maxwell," said Davis, as they were discussing "breakfast, "hear anj^thing from your old Dutch navigator last night.'" "No, ''but I had some confused sort of dream 'again about this place; I thought I heard that voice once more telling me to 'go back. ' But that, of course, is only natural." "I think we are close to the spot," remarked Bennett. "When I was after the horses this morning I could see down into the river, and there appeared to be ''an open pocket there." Bennett proved right. In half-an-hour's time they were scrambhng down the range, and soon stood in an open space 'that Maxwell at once identified. Naturally '^everybody was ^sUghtly excited. Although at first inclined to put the story down to hallucination, the subsequent events had certainly shaken this belief in the minds of ±e two friends. Maxwell silently pointed to the boulder; there was something carved on it, but it was worn and indistinct. Two centuries of weather had almost obUterated whatever marks had been there. "They were fresh and ''distinct when I saw them," said Maxwell, in an awed voice. By diligent scrutiny they made out the inscription that he 'had repeated, but had they not known it the task would have been most difficult. The words had not been very deeply marked, 'and the face of " attempt to go on] cross 5)/(i ^ on] to Syd 'For.. .flush of dawn.] * * * *Syd ' breakfast,] ~, Syd "> but] only Ei ' again] Om. 5V ''an open] a 5V ' that] which 5)/i/ ' everybody] everyone Syd ' slightly] somewhat Syd " distinct] clear Syd ' had] had formerly Syd ' and] and as Syd 62 TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS the boulder Tronting north-west, the full force of 'the wet seasons had been experienced by the inscription. "This is a wonderful thing," said Davis. "There can be no doubt as to "the age of that." "Let's go up the ravine and look for the reef and then get back as soon as possible. I don't like this place. I wish I had not come," returned Maxwell. They left the "packhorses feeding about and rode up the gully, taking with them the pick and shovel they had brought. "It was here, I think," said Maxwell, looking "round; "but the place seems altered." "Very likely the creek would change its course slightly in a couple of hundred years, but not much. That looks like an outcrop there." "This is the place," ""said Maxwell, eagerly, "I know it now, but it is a little ■•changed." The three dismounted, and Davis, taking the pick, struck the cap of the 'reef with the head of it, knocking off some lumps of stone. As he did so a wild "Holloa!" rang up the gully. All started and looked at each other with faces suddenly white and hearts quickly beating. There was something 'Uncanny in such a cry 'rising out of the surrounding solitude. "Blacks.'" said Bennett, doubtfully. Davis shook his head. Once more the loud shout was raised, apparently coming from the direction of the inscribed rock. "Let's go and see what it is, "anyway," said Davis-and they mounted and rode down the gully again, Bennett, who had picked up a "bit of the quartz, putting it into his saddle-pouch as they "rode along. Maxwell had not spoken since the cry had been heard, his face was 'pale and occasionally he muttered to himself, "Go back, go back!" The ^packhorses were ^quietly cropping what scanty grass there was; all seemed peaceful and quiet. "I believe it was a "bird after all; there's a kind of toucan makes a devil of a row"-have a look round, ''old man," said Davis to Bennett, and they both rode up and down the bank of the river, leaving Maxwell ' fronting] fronted Syd ' the wet seasons] two hundred years' monsoons Syd " the age of that] its age Syd " packhorses] pack-horses Syd " round;] ~, Syd ' said] repHed Syd « changed] different Syd ' reef.. .knocking] reef, breaking Syd • uncanny] grisly Syd ' rising] arising Syd " anyway] anyhow Syd ' bit] piece Syd " rode] went Syd « pale] ~, Syd ' packhorses] pack-horses Syd ' quietly] industriously Syd ' bird] ~, Syd *• old man,] Om. Syd SPIRIT-LED 63 Standing near the rock where he had dismounted. Nothing could be seen, and the two returned and proposed going up the gully again. "You fellows go and come back ""again, I want to get out of this-I'm upset," said ''Maxwell, speaking for the first time in a constrained voice. Davis glanced at his friend. "Right you are, old man, no wonder you don't feel well; we'll just make sure of the reef and come back. If you want us, fire your pistol; we shan't be far off." The two rode back to their 'disturbed work and hastily commenced their examination of the stone. There was no doubt about the richness of the find, and the reef could be traced a good distance without much trouble. They had collected a small heap of specimens to take back, when suddenly the loud "Holloa!" "once more came pealing up the sguUy followed instantly by a fainter cry and two revolver-shots. Hastily mounting, the two galloped back. The ""packhorses, as if startled, were walking along their tracks towards home, followed by Maxwell's horse with the bridle 'trailing; its rider was stretched on the ground; nothing else was visible. Jumping from their horses they approached the prostrate man. Both started and stared at each other with terror-stricken eyes. Before them lay a skeleton clad in Maxwell's clothes. "Are we 'mad.'" cried Davis, aghast with horror. The fierce sun was above them, the bare mountains around, they could hear the horses clattering up the range as if anxious to leave the accursed place, and before them lay a skeleton with the shrunken skin still adhering to it in ""places, a corpse that had been rotting for 'years; that had relapsed into the "state it would have been had the former trance been death. Blind terror seized them both, and they mounted to follow the "horses when an awful voice came from the fleshless lips: "Stay with me, stop! I may come back; I "may-" Bennett could hear no more, he stuck fthe spurs in his horse and galloped off. Davis would have "followed but he was transfixed with terror at what he saw. The awful object was moving, the outcast spirit ' again] quickly Syd ^ Maxwell.. .voice] Maxwell in a constrained voice, speaking for the first time Syd ' disturbed work] interrupted work, Syd ' once.. .pealing] came pealing once more Syd ' guHy] ~> Syd '■ packhorses] pack-horses 5yi ' trailing; its] ~. Its 5j/]~\ Syd° ^ places,] — Syd ' years;] ~, Syd " state] state in which Syd ' horses] ~,Syd ° may-"] -"- Syd "f '' the] Om. Syd 1 followed] ~, Syd 64 TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS was striving desperately to reanimate the 'body that had suddenly fallen into decay. The watcher was chained to the spot. Once it seemed that the horrible thing was really going to rise, but the struggle was Unavailing, with a loud moan of keenest agony and despair that thrilled the listener's brain with 'terror it fell back silent and motionless. Davis remembered nothing more till he found himself urging his horse up the range. "The place has never been revisited. In an asylum for the insane in a 'southern town there is a patient named Bennett, who is always talking "of the wonderful reef he "has up North. He has a specimen of ''quartz, very rich, which he never parts with day or night. He is often visited by a ^an named Davis, who nursed him through a severe attack of fever out on the Nicholson. The doctors think he may yet recover. ' body] ~, Ei ' unavailing,] ~; Syd ' terror] ~, Syd " The place.. .revisited.] Om. Syd ' southern] Queensland Syd " of\ shout Syd * has] knows of 5)/(^ ' quartz, very rich,] very rich quartz Syd ' man] friend Syd "Sandy Macpherson's Christmas Ride. Some few years ago, ""before the picturesque, grey, box-bark "roof on ■•bush-huts had given place to hard, ugly, angular galvanised iron; when ^eal, living shepherds were still in existence, "^and stockmen who wore cabbage-tree hats, and made their own stockwhips instead of buying them from a store, had not all gone to the main camp,' the following curious ^incidents took place. •"Sandy Macpherson, to give him his full name, was hut-keeping at a small out-station where, just at the period this story opens, he had only a couple of stockmen for companions . It was 'near Christmas time; an iron drought had set in, and there was nothing to do but wait for rain and put off the mustering until more favourable weather. Under the circumstances, Sandy's two mates had got a few weeks' holiday and gone to the nearest 'township to spend it, that ''is if they had succeeded in passing the first 'pub; a matter ""of doubt. Sandy was noted as a careful soul who did not surrender himself to unrestrained "joviality at the festive season. He was reputed to have "a stocking" somewhere, and was respected accordingly. "Blessed if I'd stop here by myself for a week or two," remarked Jim, the younger of the two, as he said good-bye ""ere mounting. "I don't see much in '•it to hanker about," returned Sandy; "it's bound to be lonely, but I'll have my cheque in my pouch after 'Christmas, and the publican will have yours." "But I'll have some 'fun as well, old man; and you won't be lonely at this time of the 'year by all accounts," was the reply. Copy-text: Bulletin. Apparatus: Syd and Ei (see pp. 3-5 for details). ' Sandy...Ride] THE COOK AND THE CATTLE-STEALER Syd THE HUT-KEEPER AND THE CATTLE-STEALER Ei " before] ere Syd ' roof] roofs Syd ' bush-huts] bush huts Syd ' real,] ~ Syd ' and] and the Syd ' incidents] incident Syd '' Sandy] Alexander Syd ' near Christmas] summer ij/i/ i township] town ij/i/ ^ is] ~, Syd 'pub;] grog-shanty- 5j/(/t TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS "and don't lie shaking there any longer. I'm the man who hung himself here four years ago this "Christmas-eve. Get "up, for I've got work for i-you." He made a stride as though to second his injunction, and ^Sandy, with a quaking "heart, slipped out on to the earthen floor. "Now, look here. To-morrow morning, sharp ''ten, you get a horse up and ride to Murderer's Camp-you know it— where all the niggers were "^shot one Christmas-day, as you've heard tell of. I did most of that, and their black ghosts worried me till, at last, I up and hung myself You go and watch on that camp all ""Christmas-day until daylight next morning, and say a bit of a prayer for me, and mayhap I'll get some rest. If not-if you don't obey me-I'U haunt you, and hunt you, until you follow my example." And he pointed with threatening finger to the shadowy beam and dangling noose. The red-bearded man did not wait for any answer-in fact, Sandy could not have made one, his teeth chattered so. He watched his awful visitor open the door and close it after him; then he thought of the whisky. He got the bottle, took a deep draught without using a pannikin, and sank down on to his bunk half stupid and half asleep. The sun was shining when he awoke, and he 'sprung up and looked about him. The rope and noose resolved itself into an ordinary halter thrown over the tie-beam, though Sandy could not for the life of him remember having seen it there before. There was certainly "a low tide in the whisky bottle, but he could not determine whether the bread and beef were in the same condition as before the stranger's visit. His spirits fell, however, when he found the 'unmistakeable fresh tracks of a horse outside the verandah. But if his visitor was a ghost, how did he come to ride a horse that made tracks? There could be no error, as he had swept all around the hut since the two men left. This thought struck Sandy very hard, and he sat down to work it out. As a Highlander, Sandy was '"slightly superstitious,** but he had plenty of sense 'notwithstanding; and 'he felt very sore at being caught unprepared and having ''showed the white feather. "It's some lark of the fellows at the station," he muttered to himself; "going to make me * Christmas-eve] night Syd ' up, for I've] up-I've Syd > you.] ~! Syd ' Sandy,] ~ Syd ' heart,] ~ Syd " ten] Om. Syd ' shot one Christmas-day] shot Syd '' Christmas-day] to-morrow Syd ' sprung] sprang Syd ' a] Om. Syd » unmistakeable] unmistakeably Syd ^ sUghtly] rather Syd ' notwithstanding;] ~, Syd ' he] Om. Syd ' showed] shown Syd SANDY MACPHERSON'S CHRISTMAS RIDE 69 spend 'Christmas out on Murderer's Camp and then "chiaks me about it. Not ifl know it." Then a new thought struck him. The red-bearded man was certainly "none of the station men, nor "anybody from anywhere about. He was a stranger, and not anybody he knew in disguise; he had looked at him too well for that-no man can disguise his eyes. He knew the yarn of Murderer's Camp, and how men, Pgins and piccaninies' had been ruthlessly slaughtered there; but he never heard of anyone committing suicide in the hut, and he began to doubt 'it. After referring for advice to the sadly-diminished whisky-bottle he made up his mind. He would go to Murderer's 'Camp, it was eight miles up the river. He would wait there until dark; then he would come back quietly and try to "bite the biters.' Sandy had a horse of his own in the paddock. As a hutkeeper's horse should be, it was fat and fresh, and 'Sandy, with a supply of food, mental and otherwise, and an allowance of the second bottle of whisky- broached, alas! before its time-''was soon on his way up the river. Arrived at the Camp, he tied his horse up, for it was too fresh to trust in hobbles so near home. He then passed the day reading his newspa- pers and smoking. He kept his eyes about "him but could not say for certain that "any one was watching him, although at times his horse cocked its ears and whinnied suspiciously. Night came on, and Sandy cautiously stole "away leading his horse and listening intently every now and then. But he heard ''no sound, and soon mounted and turned his willing steed homeward. When within a mile or two of the hut, the familiar sound of cattle came to him on the faint wind. To a trained ear the noise made by cattle when freshly yarded is as distinct as possible from any sound they make when at large. "Cattle in the yard," thought ^Sandy. "And on Christmas Day; what can be up.'"' The stockyard was on his way, and he rode up to it. Although only hut-keeping, he had been too long ^knocking about cattle stations not to know the routine of the work. ' Christmas] a day Syd " chiak] 'chiack' Syd " none] not one Syd ° anybody] Om. Syd ' gins] ~, Syd 1 it] that there had been such an occurrence Syd ' Camp,] ~- Syd ' bite the biters] turn the tables Syd ' Sandy] Om. Syd " was] Sandy was Syd ' him] ~, Syd " any one] anyone Syd « away] ~, 5j/ table] ~, Syd SANDY MACPHERSON'S CHRISTMAS RIDE 71 drinking from the iron plates and tin pannikins he had so often cleaned. Listening, he heard their talk was of him. Redbeard was at the head of the table, and with much humour was describing his ghostly experi- ence with Sandy the night before. "I give you my word, boys, he's out at Murderer's Camp "now shaking in his shoes and praying that all hands and the cook up above will take pity on the soul of yours truly." "How did you fix him.'" said one. "With a painted mark round my neck and my own devil's humour. It was the greatest fun out." Sandy listened with ears 'cocked to the fullest extent, but shortly his attention was "taken up by a man sitting opposite to the crack through which he was taking observation. 'This man's face was familiar to him. He had just served a sentence often years for cattle-stealing accompa- nied "with armed violence. Sandy knew him before he was sentenced; knew him for the best rider in the district, and the most dreaded scoundrel. As he watched the lowering eyes and dogged, sullen manner, the man "spoke. "Now, boys! Time flies, and we must shape. That "blanky fool may be safe at Murderer's Camp or he may not; we don't know. Meantime, we must make sure. Two of you get up to the yard and let the weaners "out and steady them there as well as you can until we come, and catch our horses." Sandy's nerve betrayed him; he might have crept quietly off in the darkness under cover of the noisy bellowing going on at the yard, but he felt that the murderous eye of the black-muzzled ruffian opposite was on him, and that discovery meant death. In an instant the reins were over his horse's neck, his foot in the stirrup, and the next he was galloping for dear life over the flat. Shouts, and a couple of shots, told him he 'was discovered. The two "men who had their horses saddled-up started in pursuit. Fortunately for Sandy, both he and his horse knew the bridle-track to the station, and his pursuers did not. One of them came to grief "in a tree, and the other soon dropped behind, for the cook's horse was ''fresh and, thanks to being tied up all day on the ''camp, in good fettle for a run. 1 now] ~, Syd ' cocked] acock Syd ' taken up] engaged Syd ■ This] The 5)/i/ " time] age 5y■ tall] tall, white-haired 5V ' with] with a 5)/i/ ■ chawat] chawat Syd ^ Saghie, or Orangpooenan] saghie, or Orang-pooenan Syd ' Saghie] saghie Syd ' started] ~, Syd ' feeling] having felt Syd ' live] living Syd ' fruit] ~, Syd 8o TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS fire and slept for the remainder of the night. I was not sorry to see a fine large fish cooking on the coals for breakfast, as my returning health brought with it a good appetite. When we had finished ''our meal the old man and the girl, whom I 'took to be his granddaughter, took a large rush- woven basket between them and started along a narrow path leading through the forest, motioning me to follow. In about two miles we reached an open space, and before us rose the rugged side of a hill. We followed the base of this round for some time until the face of the hill grew steep and precipitous, and I noticed we were amongst some ancient workings. At the mouth of what seemed a drive in the cliff the old 'Saghie stopped, and they set down the basket. He then spoke rapidly to the girl, whom he called Suara, and she collected dry wood and built ""up a fire, the old man lighting some tinder with a flint and steel. Suara then broke down the branches of a resinous kind of pine common to the hilly country, and with the assistance of my parang dressed them into rude torches. I now understood what these preparations meant, and when we had lit the torches the two picked up the basket and led the way into the tunnel or drive. As seen by the 'dim flare of the torches, it presented far more finished work than any of the ancient workings I had yet seen. We must have gone at least ""one hundred yards before the old man stopped, and I then saw that somebody had recently been at work, for there was loose dirt lying about, and some native tools. The old "Saghie put down the basket, and motioned to me to come and fill it with the shovel. I did so, and naturally took the opportunity of examining the dirt. I sifted some in my hands, and blew part of the finer dirt "away and am satisfied, even now, that there was a large quantity of coarse gold through it and several specimens,'* as they are generally called by diggers. Of this I am quite sure, "in despite of what afterwards occurred. The old ""Saghie was peering over my shoulder while I 'was blowing the dust away, and grinned hideously as he saw the gold exposed here and there. I remember wondering at the time what possible ambition could be his for the yellow dross. Perhaps he thought the same of ^e.? '■ our] the Syd ' took] guessed Syd ' Saghie] saghie Syd ' up] Om. Syd ' dim.. .torches] dim, flaring Ught Syd ■" one] a Syd " Saghie] saghie Syd ° away] ~, Syd <• in despite of] despite Syd ■i Saghie] saghie 5)/i/ ' was blowing] blew 5j/ii 'me}]~.Syd THE SPELL OF MAS-HANTOO .''M~=L "Behind me, as I squatted by the water's edge, the two yellow, semi-nude figures of the old man and the girl, bending over my shoulders in rapt attention. " Illustration by Percy F. S. Spence, Bulletin, 20 December 1890 82 TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS Anyhow, we were both satisfied with our inspection, and I went on filling up the bag until it could hold no more. The old man and the girl picked it up and carried it out of the tunnel. Instead of taking the homeward track as I 'anticipated they turned down another one, and in a short time we were beside a small stream "that descended from the range. Here there were rude appliances for washing, and I selected, as the most convenient, a shallow baked-clay dish, and commenced washing out a prospect.'' Not a 'speck nor a trace of gold was there. I did not look at my two companions, for it struck me that possibly the dirt at the top of the basket was different "to what I had examined in the tunnel. I therefore took another prospect from the very bottom and proceeded to wash it. "That was a strange scene. The narrow path leading down to the ''running stream, just cutting a thin gap in the dense forest. The shrill chattering and screaming of parrots overhead, and the noises made by the troops of monkeys, which swung from bough to bough, and from one long hanging vine to another. Behind me, as I squatted by the water's edge, the two yellow, semi-nude ^figures, of the old man and the girl, bending over my shoulders in rapt attention. The dirt was rapidly reduced as I swirled the water round in the dish, and when I tilted it to and fro, there, at either end of the grit and "gravel appeared the yellow ""glow of gold. I heard the two behind me heave a sigh of satisfaction as this sight appeared. Surely the spell of the Mas-hantoo was broken at last.' Suddenly, without a sound of warning, a glistening flashing object dropped from overhead and struck me and the girl 'headlong into the water. Blinded and frightened, I staggered to my feet, for the stream was but shallow, and in an instant saw what had happened. A huge boa^° had dropped from ^a tree above, as is their custom 'on the paths by which the deer go to water, and snatched its victim from our midst. The old man was crushed against the "^tree by three or four folds of the 'creature whose tail was still in the branches above, and he was already in the pangs of death. Suara, who, like myself, had been knocked forward by a blow from a coil of the reptile as it dropped on its prey, was standing near me ' anticipated] ~, 5yi/ " that] which i>i " speck nor] speck, not ^V " to] from Syd ' That] It Syd i running] small Syd ' figures,] ~5><; ' gravel] ~, 5>i '' glow] sheen 5j/rf ' headlong] Om. Syd '' a...as] one of the trees above, where it Syd ' on] to hang, watching 5j/i/ ' tree] trunk 5j/<; « creature] ~, 5ya! THE SPELL OF MAS-HANTOO 83 gazing with horror-stricken eyes on the death-scene. The crunching of the unhappy man's bones was quite audible, but his collapsed body showed that life was over. The dish had floated on the surface, and was ''now held from going 'down stream by a tussock of reeds. Suara picked it up and handed it to 'me, with a ''strange look of despair. Instinctively, despite the near presence of the monster, now gloating over its meal, I fmished washing the prospect. The spell of the Mas-hantoo held good. Nothing but gravel and sand was 'now in the earthen dish, which I dashed to pieces on a rock. Together, Suara and I left the spot and made our way to the hut, which we reached that evening and there rested for the night. Next morning she conducted me through jungle paths to within sight of the village where Abiasi lived. Here she stopped and pointed in another direction, nor would she accompany me a step towards the '"village, and so, neither able to say farewell to the other in language both could understand, we parted. Abiasi told me afterwards that more of her people lived in the "direction she had pointed. °A lot of our goods had been recovered, and the crew were now nearly all well. A fresh gobang was provided, and I parted from the Dyak villagers with strangely mixed feelings, although it was with some sense of satisfaction that I saw mile after mile increase the distance between me and the mines of the Mas-hantoo. BOOCYEA.^' '■ now] Om. Syd ' down] down the Syd ' me,] ~ Syd ' strange] Om. Syd ' now] Om. Syd " village,] ~; Syd ° direction] direction in which Syd ° A lot] Most Syd Malchook's 'Doom-A Story of the Nicholson River. (For The Bulletin.) It was Malchook who told the beginning of this story, and Malchook was supposed to be the biggest Uar ''in the Gulf of "^Carpentaria, which is equivalent to saying that he was the biggest liar in the world.' However, it was on record that he told the truth ''sometimes-when he was in a blue funk, for instance, and on this occasion his state of funk was a dazzling purple-blue was no name for it. We were camped on the Nicholson for the wet season. The cattle had been turned out and we had ''pretty hard work to keep them together, for, after the rain set in and the country "^got boggy, the niggers commenced playing up and we had to keep going. It was raining cats and dogs that 'night and we were all huddled together round the fire under a bit of a bark lean-to which we had put up. Malchook was *'away- his horses were absent that morning and he had been away all day after them. It was about eight o'clock when we heard him coming; he had found his horses and was driving them right up to the camp. Then, instead of hobbling them, he got a bridle and a halter, caught them and tied 'them 'up to a tree. Some of the fellows sang out to him to know what he was doing, but he took no notice, and, after turning out the horse he had been riding, came up to the fire and told Reeve (the boss) that he wanted a word with him. Reeve got up, and the two ''went over to his tent. Presently Malchook 'came out, went '"over to where his "duds' were under the tarpaulin that had been rigged up over the rations, and commenced to roll them up. Reeve came back to the fire. "What's up.'" asked Thomas, Reeve's cousin. Copy-text: Bulletin. Apparatus: i>i/(see pp. 3-5 for details). • Doom.,.River] DOOM: A NICHOLSON RIVER STORY Syd "■ in] on Syd ' Carpentaria. . .world] Carpentaria Syd ' sometimes-] ~ , Syd ' pretty] Om. Syd ' got] became 5V ' night] ~, 5>rf '' away] not there Syd ' them] his steeds Syd > up] Om. Syd ' went] walked Syd ' came out] emerged Syd " over] Om. Syd " duds] belongings Syd 84 MALCHOOK'S DOOM 85 "Only that fellow wants to leave "to-night, straight ""away, so I gave him his cheque and told him to slide as soon as he liked; he's no great ■•loss anyway." "What does he want to leave for?" "Says the camp is 'doomed and he is going to put as many miles as possible between himself and us before our fate overtakes us." There was a general laugh, and just then Malchook came out with his swag and commenced to saddle up in the pouring rain. There was a good moon, nearly full, ^although of 'course it was not visible. The fellows commenced chaffing^ him, for he was not a favourite; too "all-round a liar. He stood it without a word until he was ready to "mount, then he got on his "horse and, turning round, "said: "Laugh ''away; this time to-morrow I'll have the laugh of you; this camp is doomed!" He ^stuck the spurs in his horse and Misappeared swish, swish, swish, through the bog down the bank of the river, and we heard him swearing at his pack-horse as he crossed the sand. There was much laughter and wonderment at what had sent Malchook "off his chump," but eccentricity was common in those days, from various causes, and presently we all turned in. I was sleeping under the tarpaulin where the rations were stored, and about two o'clock in the morning I suddenly awoke. It was brilliant moonlight, the wind had 'changed and the 'rain ceased, only a little scud was flitting across the sky, giving the moon that strange appear- ance that everybody must occasionally have noticed-as though she was travelling at express rate through an archipelago of cloudlets. Some impulse made me ""get out from under the mosquito-net and go to the opening at the end of the tarpaulin and look out. Everything was 'very still and quiet; all the horses were camped, for not a bell could be heard, and I stood Yor some time aimlessly listening and looking at the glistening pools of water %ing on the flat between our camp and the ""bank when suddenly I distinctly heard a human ° to-night,] ~ Syd ■■ away] oKSyd 1 loss] ~, Syd ' doomed] ~, Syd ' although] ~, Syd ' course] ~, Syd " all-round] reckless Syd ' mount,] ~; Syd " horse] ~, Syd ' said:] — Syd ' away;] ~, Syd ' stuck the spurs in] dug his heels into Syd ' disappeared] — Syd *' changed and] changed, Syd ' rain...travelling] rain had ceased, and the moon, by reason of the scud which flitted across the sky, seemed to travel Syd ' get.. .and] leave the shelter of the mosquito-net, Syd ' very] Om. Syd ' for] Om. Syd ' lying on] upon Syd ^ bank] ~, Syd 86 TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS voice in the bed of the river. I waited for a moment to make sure, then I got my Martini'' and a couple of cartridges and sneaked towards the 'river. Last full-moon the niggers had nearly clubbed the cook in his 'mosquito-nets when he was sleeping outside the tent one night; this time, I thought, it would be a case of the biters ''bit. About a hundred yards from the camp I stopped and 'listened; the voice ""was much "nearer, it was a white man's, it was Malchook's, and he was kicking his °knocked-up horse along and dragging the pack-horse after him. I waited behind a tree until he 'was close up, and then I stepped out. I was only in my shirt, with the carbine in my hand. "Great God!" he cried, with a kind of choke, "he's here again!" "What the 'devil is up with you.'" I said; "why didn't you stop away when you went.' Got bushed, I suppose, and the horses brought you back.?" He sat on his horse and panted for a few minutes without 'speaking; then he said: "That infernal old nigger ^vouldn't let me go. He hunted me back. I've got to share your fate, so let's get it over." He jabbed his heels in his horse's ribs, but I stopped him. "Don't wake the camp up," I said. "What nigger do you mean?" "The nigger that Jacky the Span and I roasted in the spinifex. He's headed me back every road I've tried, and I give it up. Let me turn the horses out, and 'try and get a wink of sleep." Jacky the Span was an old blackguard of a Mexican who had been knocked on the head about six months "before. Everybody said he richly deserved it, and everybody was right. "When were you up here with Jacky Span.'" I asked. "About two years 'ago; the time Bratten was killed; but let me turn out the horses and I'll tell you all about it." We went quietly back to "camp, let the tired horses go, and then Malchook "laid down on his blankets ''alongside of me. The tarpaulin was rigged some distance from the other tents, and the boys were "done-up and sleeping "sound, so nobody awoke. This is what Malchook told ''me:- ' river] bank 5yrf 'igo;]~, Syd ' camp,] camp, and 5j/^ " laid] sat Syd ' alongside of] beside Syd ' done-up] done up Syd ' sound ] soundly Syd ^ me:-] ~. Syd MALCHOOK'S DOOM 87 Two years before, he and the old Mexican had come up to join Bratten in mustering some horses that had got away from the lower part of the river and were supposed to be knocking about below the first gorge. Like most half-breeds, Jacky the Span (short for Spaniard) was a most inhuman brute towards the natives whenever he got a chance, and Malchook, being a blowhard and a bully, was 'iiaturally of the same cowardly disposition-most liars are. One day they spotted an old man and a young gin at the foot of a spinifex ridge that runs in on the Upper Nicholson. I knew the place-real old man spinifex that would go through a leather legging. ' They rounded the old black up on the top of the ridge, but missed the gin, and Jacky Span said he would make the man find her or he should suffer, and Malchook, in order to keep up his reputation as a flash man and a real old Gulf hand,' aided and abetted him. I suppose the poor devil was too frightened to understand what they really wanted, but, anyhow, all the half-caste devilry, which is the worst devilry in the world, was ""roused in the Mexican, and Malchook followed suit. They selected a bank of 'old man spinifex, and rolled the naked nigger in it %r sport. Now, spinifex is beastly poisonous stuff; get your shins well pricked, and it is worse than any ^amount of mosquito-bites for irritating you and making you itch. Horses will not face it after a day or two in really bad country, and if you run your hand down their shins you will soon see the reason why. Every little prick festers, and their legs are covered with tiny boils and ''ulcers after a few days in bad spinifex. The 'niggers always burn it ahead of them before they travel through it. Out in the 'real Never-Never they have regular tracks ''that they keep burnt down. By the time they had rolled this nigger in the spinifex for some minutes, he must have been in a raging hell of torment; and he knew no more what they wanted with him than 'he did at the start. Then, according to Malchook, Jacky rolled him into a big bank of dry stuff- they had tied his feet together-and set fire to it. Spinifex is rare stuff to '"burn, it is full of turpentine, "and burns with a fierce heat and a black smoke, so the old nigger was well "roasted; and when it burnt out they ' naturally] Om. Syd " roused] aroused Syd ' old man] Om. Syd 'forsport.]"- ~."Syd « amount] number 5j/i/ 'ulcers.. .spinifex] ulcers 5>i/ 'he did] Om. Syd ■" burn, it is] blaze; being 5)/,/ » and] it Syd ° roasted;] ~, Syd TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS rolled him into ^another and set that alight. A gust of wind "sprung up and started the whole ridge ablaze, and the gin, who had been hidden close by, watching ''them, sprang out and *ran for it, and Jacky Span picked up the old man's club and took after her. He was away about half-an-hour; 'meantime the old fellow died, groaning awfully, and Malchook began to feel as if "he had better have let things alone. Presently, Jacky Span came back with the club in his hand-big two-handed clubs they use 'out on the Nicholson'-and showed Malchook some blood and hair cm it, and laughed like a devil. No need to repeat here all he said. Now, if Malchook had there and then blown a "government road through' the brute, there might have been some chance of repentance left for him, but he didn't. He sniggered and let Jacky Span tell him all about it, and camped with him for weeks afterwards. Jacky Span was killed, as I said before, and Malchook assured me, in a sweating blue funk when he spoke, that just at dark he had met his horses coming back, with the old roasted nigger behind driving them. He went on to say that this thing had followed him right up to the "river and shrieked at him that he would die in the camp . Then he went on to tell that when he tried to get away from the camp that night the old nigger had met him at every point of the compass, ''so at last he gave it up and ^came back. Now, I knew that there had been an importation of brandy lately into the Gulf country, generally known as the "possum brand,"' each bottle of which was calculated to make a man see more devils than "any six bottles of any other brand. It was very popular, for it would eat holes in a saddle-cloth, so I concluded that Malchook had got ''hold of some of it, for one of the fellows had returned from Burketown that day. This would account for the ghost of the blackfellow, but the rest of the yarn about Jacky Span I 'knew to be true, so I told Malchook to clear out and sleep somewhere else-I wouldn't have him under the same tarpaulin with me. He begged and prayed to be allowed to remain, but I told him I would wake the camp and tell everything if he didn't go, so he went, sobbing bitterly. I explained to him that the best thing he could do was " another] another bank Syd i sprung] sprang Syd ' them, sprang] it all, rushed 5y■ quiet] "~" Syd ' plenty.. .keep] much trouble in keeping Syd ' out of] away from Syd '' old hands,] hands Syd ' had.. .Walker] an old fellow named Ben. Walker, had been re-engaged 5>i/ ° At last, going] Going 5>i/ 'them]~, Syd " pretty] Om. Syd ' who was quite] Om. Syd " and.. .that] who had in his hand a spear which POMPEY 95 and took aim, when the "glint of the early morning sun fell straight on the nigger. It acted like a flash of memory. He saw by the yellowish-brown nude figure that the boy was a half-caste, and recog- nised by the white forelock, "Pompey's brand," that it was his own son he was going to kill. The young fellow saw him hesitate, took courage, and sent the spear straight through Hewett's body. The clutching finger pulled the trigger, and Pompey went to the happy hunting-ground^ with his father's bullet in his brain. The officer and Ben Walker rode up soon afterwards, dismounted hastily and examined Hewett, but he was on the point of death. They did all they could to ease him, and then Ben went to look at the "nigger. "By God!" he said, as he looked at the white tuft, now partly blood-stained, "if it isn't Pompey!" "Who's Pompey.'" asked the ""officer who was just behind him. "//« son," said Ben shortly, pointing at the dead body of the white " glint] sheen 5j/i/ ° nigger] black 5yi/ p set his bed down] made his bed ij/a! ■" make nothing out] see nothing Sj/ii ' and blowing] blew 5>rf • stiU] Om. Syd 'l]Om.Syd " holding.. .up] holding up the lighted stick Syd ' sleeping] lying Syd 96 THE TRACK OF THE DEAD 97 His blankets were tenantless. May I never "experience again such an uncomfortable thrill as went through me when I made this discovery! I put my hand on the blankets where they had been thrown aside. They were "cold and the dew had gathered on them; he must have been gone some hours. I listened long and intently, but the night was silent. For a man to wander ^away from camp in the middle of the night, out in the Never-Never ^spinifex country, and remain away for hours, is a most "uncanny thing. If he had heard the horses making off he would have called me ere leaving; if-but I exhausted all conjectures before daylight dawned. I could do nothing until then. The light came very slowly, or so it appeared to me. We were camped at the foot of a spinifex rise, on a narrow flat bordering a creek. When the light ""was strong I could see the horses feeding quietly 'some short distance ""away; and picking up my 'bridle I soon had one caught and 'saddled, and firing off my rifle two or three times without eliciting an answering shot, I started to look for my missing mate. After %ome trouble I ""picked up his track leading straight up the ridge, which, near the crest, was sandy, 'and the prints of his footsteps were clearly defined. The spinifex was scantier 'here, and as I gazed intently down I saw something that made me pull up and hastily dismount to scan the tracks ''closer. Alf was not 'alone, somebody was walking ahead of him. Step by step I ""followed leading my horse, but I could make nothing of the foremost track, for Alf 's almost covered it every time. At last they diverged, and the two ran side by side. It was a bright morning, "the sun just glinting under the stunted "trees; what little live nature there was in that lonely spot was awake and joyously greeting the day; but I Prose up from my examination of that awful 'foot-mark with the dew of superstitious terror on my forehead. No living man had made that track. I had to follow 'on scarce knowing what to think or expect. I tried to " experience.. .uncomfortable] again experience such a Syd " cold] ~, Syd ' away] Om. Syd ' spinifex] Om. Syd ' uncanny] unusual Syd ° vias] $Tevi Syd 'some] a Syd 'av/iy, and] ~,~, Syd 'bndlt]~, Syd ' saddled, and firing] saddled. Firing Syd ' some] much Syd '' picked up] found Syd ' and.. .were] the prints of his footsteps being there very Syd ' here] Om. Syd ' closer] more closely Syd ' alone... walking] alone-somebody had walked Syd ■" followed] ~, Syd " the.. .glinting] and the sun just ghnted Syd ° trees; what] ~. What Syd ' rose up] arose Syd ^ foot-mark] footmark Syd ' on] ~, Syd 98 TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS persuade myself that the ^foot-print was that of some attenuated old gin, lean and shrunken as a mummy, but that was against reason. The track was that of the skeleton of a man; and Alf was not following it, but following whatever was making it. With varying fortune, now finding, now losing the 'trail I kept on for about two hours; then, halfway down a sUght incline, I came upon the object of my search. He was sitting on the ground talking to himself, I thought at first, but when I got closer I saw he was addressing some object on his lap. He was nursing the head and shoulders of the remains of a human being. "He lay at full length amidst a patch of rank green grass fertilised by the decayed body, a skeleton with fragments of rotten clothing still clinging to it. Alf had his arm under the skull as one would support a sick man, and was murmuring words of affection. He raised his head as I "approached but evinced no surprise. "This is my brother "Jack;"^ he said. "Fancy his coming to the camp last night to show me where he "was. We must take him into the nearest station and bury him, for he can't rest here, it's too lonely." I ''could not answer. ^Alf 's mind had evidently given "way and I could not reason with him. He carried the body back to our ''camp and I commenced a ghastly ride to the nearest ''station over seventy miles away, with a madman and a corpse for companions. The third day after starting we arrived at Ubnalong, then the outside station, and here I learnt the story of Alf.'s twin brother. He had been a stockman on the place when it was first settled, and had ridden out on his rounds one day and never returned. There was little doubt that the skeleton we brought in was his, but ''what led the hving twin to its 'resting place.? I held my tongue about the 'track for they would only think I was as mad as *poor Alf. After we buried the remains Alf relapsed into ahnost constant silence. He was quite harmless and they found him some light work to do about the place, but he died, prematurely aged, in about a year's time. He was buried with his brother. D. ■ foot-print] footprint Syd ' traU] ~, Syd " He] It Syd • approached] ~,Syd ' Jack;] ~, Syd ' was.] ~! Syd 1 could] did Syd " Alf.'s] My mate's Syd ' way] ~, Syd ° '^^mp] ~, Syd ' station] ~, Syd " what] what had Syd ' resting place] resting-place Syd ' track] ~, Syd « poor Alf] my companion Syd The Missing Super. (For The Bulletin.) "It's a bad plan, and generally breeds trouble," said Hervey. "Well, at any 'rate I gave him a pretty severe hiding, and I bet he'll be all the better for it," replied Ross. Hervey shook his head. "You can knock a nigger about the head as much as you like and he thinks nothing of it, but use a whip to him and he never forgets it. Powlang will have it in for you ""if he ever gets the chance." Ross was a 'iiew hand in outside country' where he had lately taken charge of a station. Like most new-comers, he had a theory of his own how to treat ^blacks, and like most new-comers he went to 'an extreme. •His view of the case was that of ruling with a hand of iron, and as the blacks had but lately been allowed to come in to the frontage^ unmo- lested, they were ^naturally constantly infringing the petty rules he had ''tried to break them into; 'generally, through ignorance. Powlang was a fine young native, nearly six feet high, with a rather intelligent face. For some reason Ross had an especial "down" upon him. Catching him one day out hunting near a cattle-camp the blacks had been told to avoid, he bestowed a flogging on him with his stock-whip . This was the little affair 'he had been telling his neighbour, Hervey, about. Apparently Powlang forgot all about his ''whipping in spite of what Hervey had said, for he came into the station and was made useful in many ways, Ross having also seemingly buried the hatchet. Gradually Powlang learned to ride and became one of the regular station 'staff, and matters went on very smoothly for nearly a year, ■"Ross exercising his whip "occasionally on some of the refractory Copy-text: Bulletin. Apparatus: Syd (see pp. 3-5 for details). 'T3.tt]~,Syd '■ ifever he gets the] and wait his ^j/rf ' new] fresh 5)/:/ '' blacks] niggers Syd ' an extreme] extremes Syd ' His.. .ruling] His idea was to rule Syd ' naturally] Om. Syd ' tried.. .into] formulated for their benefit Syd ' generally,] ~ Syd ' he... about] about which Ross had been telling his neighbour, Hervey Syd " whipping... of] whipping, despite Syd ' staff, and matters went on] staff Matters went Syd " Ross] Ross, meanwhile, Syd " occasionally on] now and then upon Syd 99 TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS natives, and asking "Hervey whenever they met, "when his fate was to come off?" Fifteen miles from the head station was an out-station with a small stockyard attached. Here a good deal of the mustering and branding was done to avoid the long drive into the head station. The place simply consisted of a slab hut and a yard, but a small patch of scrub intervened between the two, and the yard was not visible from the hut. There had been a spell of dry weather, then rain fell, and in a week or two mustering commenced. •'All hands nearly were camped at the out-station for five or six days, and many of the niggers had found their way '•out and earned a httle 'tobacco helping at the branding-yard. Work was *all finished at dusk one evening and 'the next morning "they all started for the head station. Ross did not leave at the same time as the others, 'as, with Powlang, he was going "home a different route, and when the men left the other blacks were still in camp. Ross did not return that day, and "the next morning all the ''blacks about the place had left. This was ominous. Hervey came over and a search-party started. The tracks of the two horses were ^picked up at the out-station hut and followed 'from there to the ''river. Here they turned up the river, and in a few '^miles were intermixed with numerous tracks of natives. This continued, the tracks of the blacks keeping steadily up the river, the footprints of the two horses being occasionally detected amongst them. At last a point was reached where the river emerged from the coast-range through a broken gorge, and the party soon came to a clean-swept bed of sand with a water-hole at the ■•upper-end. This, as most of them knew, was as far as the horses could go up the course of the stream; but there was plenty to attract ^their attention. The 'blacks had camped there, and the remains of the two horses were scattered on the sand amongst the ovens of blackened stones where their flesh had been cooked. "Twenty-four hours too ''late," said Hervey. "But what have they done with Ross.?" ° Hervey] ~ , Syd ' All hands nearly] Nearly all hands Syd ' out] there Syd • tobacco] tobacco by Syd • all] Om. Syd ' the] Om. Syd -they]Om.Syd 'as...was]forheandPowlangwere5>,/ "home] home by 5vi/ " the] Om. Syd > blacks] natives Syd • picked up] discovered Syd ■ from there] Om. Syd '' river.. .in] river, up which they turned; Syd ' miles] miles further on they Syd •> upper-end] upper end Syd ' This] This spot Syd ' their] the search-party's Syd ' blacks] natives Svd i- late,] ~! Syd THE MISSING SUPER On searching about it was soon found that the blacks had spHt up. One party had made for the mountains on the north side, and one for the southern range. The whites divided in pursuit, and two days afterwards turned up at the head station tired and hungry, with footsore horses, both parties unsuccessful. The fate of Ross could only be conjectured. Nothing belonging to him had been found in the blacks' camp, and most people believed in the ghastly story that was circulated, that he had been cooked and eaten as well as the horses. 'Two months after this episode two of the men 'on the station had occasion to camp at the out-station hut. They reached the place at dusk, turned out their horses, lit a fire, and, while their ''quarts were boiling, amused themselves by taking down the greenhide 'ropes, kept there for branding, and unwinding them to see ""if the weevils had got into them. "What's come of the long catching-rope,^ Bill.?" said one at last. ""Dashed if I know," was the reply, and they searched the hut without success. "Must have been left up the yard," said Bill. "The dingoes have got it by this time, I'll be bound. I'll have a look in the morning." "Wonder what became of Ross, after all?" said one, as they sat before the fire discussing the evening meal. "Hang it! I was just thinking of him, too. Suppose °it is because he was the last man Phere; hope he doesn't haunt the place.'' After a few more words they lit their pipes, and soon retired to ''their blankets. '"Blessed if I can sleep, and you don't seem much better," said Bill about ^12 o'clock, getting up from his bunk, and 'poking the smoulder- ing sticks in the fireplace together. "No, "I never was so restless in my life," returned his companion. Both men started their pipes, and, between smoking and dozing, wore away the hours till "daylight broke. Picking up his bridle, one went after the "horses, the other filled the quarts* and stood them by the fire. The sun had just risen when "he heard his mate coming back; the ' Two] A couple olSyd ' on the station] Om. Syd ' quarts] quart-pots Syd ' ropes,] ~ Syd " if., .them] if they had been damaged by weevils Syd ' Dashed] Blessed Syd ° it is] it's Syd ' here;] ~- Syd 1 their] the Syd ' Blessed] Blowed Syd ' 1 2 o'clock] midnight Syd ' poking.. .together] poking together the smouldering sticks in the fireplace Syd " I] Om. Syd ' dayUght... bridle,] break of day, when Syd " horses,] horses, and Syd " he.. .back;] Om. Syd TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS horses jogged past the hut on their way to the yard, rattling their ^hobble-chains, strapped on one leg. Bill heard his companion walk after them, whistling as he went, then he threw the tea into the ^quarts and took them off the fire. Just as he did so, his mate rushed wildly in. ^"God Almighty, Bill! Come up to the yard! Ross is ''up there!" The men stared at each other aghast. One with the horror he had seen; the other at the horror in his friend's face. Then they both hastened to the yard. The horses were standing with their ears cocked, staring with distended eyes at an awful object in the branding-yard. A shrunken, ''eyeless, rotting corpse stood, apparently erect, in the centre of the yard, with lolling head and drooping arms. The two men clutched each other's hands. "There's the ''rope," said Bill, breaking the awed silence. The commonplace words restored their courage, and they ap- proached the remains of the murdered man. It was Ross, the missing super. A loop in the middle of the 'catching rope had been twisted round his neck, the ends passed through the rails on the opposite sides of the little yard, and then hauled taut, and made fast. Suspended thus by the neck, the body had the appearance of 'standing upright in the middle of the yard. Subsequent investigation went to show that, in all probability, he was senseless ^at the time, as the skull bore the mark of a blow; and one of the ''gins confessed that he was first knocked on the head by Powlang. The yard was at the back of the hut, with the patch of scrub between, and the search-party, picking up the tracks at once, had never thought of looking at the yard. For two months the dead man had swung there, a gruesome caretaker of the lonely out-station. Powlang and the other blacks who were known to have camped at the hut at the time of that fatal muster, were, on different 'occasions, "dispersed in the Queen's name" during the ensuing twelvemonths. BiNGHI. ' hobble-chains.. .leg] hobble-chains Syd ' quarts] pots Syd • God Ahnighty,] Om. Syd ' up] Om. Syd ' eyeless...apparently] eyeless corpse stood 5j/i/ 'Tope,]~\Syd " catching rope] catching-rope S'V ' standing] standing almost Syd ' at the time] when tied up Syd ' gins] gins subsequently Syd ' occasions. ..twelvemonths.] occasions during the ensuing twelvemonths, "dispersed in the Queen's name." 'How the Reverend Joseph Simmondsen Lost His Character. (For The Bulletin.) The Rev. Joseph Simmondsen had been appointed by his bishop to a cure of souls in the Far ''North in the days when 'North Queensland was an ungodly and unsanctified place. Naturally, the Rev. J., who was young, green, and zealous, saw a direct mission ^sticking out in front of him. His predecessor had never gone twenty miles outside the little seaport that formed the commercial outlet of the district; but this did not suit Joseph's eager temperament. Once he felt his footing and gained a little experience, he determined on a lengthened tour that should embrace the uttermost limits of his fold. Now, although beset with the conceit and priggishness inseparable from the early stages of parsonhood, Simmondsen was not abad fellow, and glimpses of his manly nature would at times peep out in spite of himself This, without his knowledge, ensured him a decent welcome, and he got a good distance inland under most favourable 'auspices, the weather being fine, 'everybody willing to lend him a horse or drive him *on to the next station ''on his route. The Rev. Joseph began to think that the roughness of the 'Never Never country had been much exaggerated. In due course he arrived at a station which we will call Upton Downs; beyond it there were only a few newly-taken-up 'stations. On Upton Downs they were busy mustering, and when the parson enquired about his way for the next day the manager looked rather puzzled. "You see," he said, "we are rather short-handed, and I can't spare a man to send with you; at the same time the track from here to Gundewarra is not very plain, and I am afraid you might not be able to follow it. However, I will see what I can do." Copy-text: Bulletin. Apparatus: Syd, Ei and Syd2. Wording in Ei and Syd2 reads the same as Syd unless otherwise indicated (see pp. 3-5 for details). ■ How...Character] THE PARSON'S BLACKBOY Syd' '' North] ~, Syd ' North] Om. Syd ' sticking out] Om. Syd ' auspices,] auspices, for, Syd ' everybody] everybody was 5>(/ ' on] aion$ Syd2 ''on] upon 5^ ' Never Never] back Syd ' stations] runs Syd 103 104 TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS Mr. Simmondsen was retiring to rest that night when a whispered conversation made itself audible in the next room. No words ""could be distinguished, but from the sounds of smothered laughter a good joke seemed to be in progress. "I think I can manage for you," said the 'superintendent at breakfast "the next morning. "When you leave here you will go to Gundewarra, 25 miles. From there it is 35 miles to Hilton's Camp and 10 on to Blue Grass. From Blue Grass you can come straight back here across the "bush about 40 miles. I will lend you a blackboy who knows the country well and will see you "back here safely." The young clergyman thanked his host, and, after breakfast, pre- pared to leave. The blackboy, a good-looking little fellow ""got up in clean moles' and twill shirt, was in attendance with a led pack-horse, and the two departed. For some miles the reverend Joseph improved the occasion by a little pious talk to the boy, who spoke fairly good '•English and showed a white set of teeth when he laughed, as he constantly did at everything the parson said. At midday they camped for an hour on the bank of a lagoon, 'and Mr. Simmondsen 'went in and had a refreshing 'swim. In the evening they arrived at their destination, and received the usual welcome. "I see you adapt yourself to the customs of the country," said his host "that evening, and a slight titter went round the table. The reverend Joseph joined in, taking it for granted that his somewhat unclerical "rig was alluded to. In reply to "his enquiries he was informed that Hilton's Camp was a "pretty rough shop, and Blue Grass even worse; and he was pleased to hear it, for ''up to now his path had been too pleasant altogether; he hadn't had a chance to reprove anybody. Bilton's Camp proved to be "a very rough place. The men were civil, however, and as the parson had "had another exhilarating bath at the midday camp he appreciated the rude fare ''that was set in front of him, although here, as at the other place, there seemed to be a joke floating about that made everybody snigger. ^ could be distinguished] were distinguishable Syd ' superintendent] manager Syd2 ■" the] Om. Syd " bush] ~, Syd - back here] round Syd ' got up] arrayed 5y 1 English] ~, 5^ ' and] in which 5j/£/ ■ went in and] Om. Syd ' swim. P In] ~ . ~ Syd » that evening] at mealtime Syd • rig] garb Syd * his] Om. Syd ' pretty rough shop] rough place Syd 1 up to now] until then Syd2 ' a very] indeed a Syd • had] taken Syd2 '' that was set in front of] set before Syd THE REVEREND JOSEPH SIMMONDSEN 105 The next day's "journey was but a short stage to Blue Grass and as ''he had by this time become very friendly with Charley, the 'black-boy, the two rode along chatting "^together until they came somewhat unexpect- edly on the new camp. A very greasy cook and two or three gins in dilapidated shirts were the only people at home, and they stood open-eyed to greet the stranger. ^Although Simmondsen had suited his ''garb to his surroundings, he still retained enough of the clerical 'element to signify his profession. The cook, therefore, 'dropped to the ''situation and invited the parson 'in, under the tarpaulin ""that was doing temporary duty as a hut. He informed his visitor, at whom he looked rather curiously, that "everybody was away, camped out, and "would not return for a couple of days; that he was alone, excepting for two men who were at work ""at a yard a short distance '^away, and who would be in to dinner; in fact, they came up while he was speaking. 'Simmondsen took great interest in this, the first real ^outside camp he had seen, and as the two bushmen had gone down to the creek for a wash, and the cook was busy preparing a meal, he called Charley to ask him a few questions. "What 'do these black women do about the place, Charley.'" "O! all about missus belongah whitefellow," was the "astounding reply. It was some moments before Joseph could grasp the full sense of this communication; then he considered it his duty to read these sinners a severe lecture, and prepared one accordingly. "Do you not understand," he said, when the three men were together, "the trespass you are committing against both social and Divine laws.' If you do not respect one, perhaps you will the other." The cook stared at the bushmen in blank amazement, and the bushmen "stared at the cook. "I allude to these unfortunate and misled beings," said the parson, waving his hand towards the half-clad gins. ' journey.. .Grass] journey, to Blue Grass, was but a short stage, Syd ^ he] the reverend gentleman Syd ' black-boy] blackboy Syd ' together] pleasantly Syd ' Although] Although Mr. Syd '■ garb] attire Syd ' element] garb Syd ' dropped to] at once took in Syd '' situation] ~, Syd ' in,] Om. Syd " that was doing] which did Syd " everybody] "everyone" Syd ° would not] that no one would Syd p at] in Syd ^ away] oiiSyd ' Simmondsen] Mr. Simmondsen Syd ' outside] "~" Syd ' do.. .do] are these black women doing Syd " astounding] astonishing Syd " stared] Om. Syd io6 TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS A roar of laughter was the reply. "Blessed if that doesn't come well from '"you" said the cook, when he could speak. The others chuckled in acquiescence. "What do you mean.'" said the indignant Joseph; "I speak by right of my office." "Sit down and have some tucker," said the "cook. "You're not a bad sort, I can see, but don't come the blooming ''innocent." The indignant pastor refused. He saw that his words were treated lightly, that no one would listen to him, and he left in high dudgeon. Charley had told him that there was a good lagoon about 1 2 miles on the road back to Upton Downs; he would go on there and camp-they had plenty of provisions on the "pack-horse; and taking his bridle and calling the boy he went to catch his horse. As he came back he overheard the 'fag end of a remark the cook was making to the others. "They came round the end of the scrub chatting as thick as thieves, and when I seed who it was-Lord! you could have wiped me out with one hand." This was worse than Greek to the ''Reverend. Greek he might have understood. In spite of a '^clumsy apology from the delinquent, he ""departed and near sundown arrived at the lagoon Charley had spoken of It was a lovely spot. One end was thick with broad-leaved water-lilies, but there was a clear patch at the other end promising the swim the good parson enjoyed so much. When the tent was pitched he stood in Nature's garb about to enter the 'water when Charley called to him. Pointing towards the lilies he \o\A Simmondsen that he would get him some seed-pods ^that the blacks thought splendid eating. The clergyman had only got up to his waist ""before he heard a plunge behind him and saw Charley's dark form half splashing, half swimming towards the lilies. Presently his head emerged from a dive, and he beckoned 'to Simmondsen to come over and taste the aboriginal luxury. The 'Reverend paddled lazily over and investigated. The seed-pods proved of very pleasant flavour, and as the sun was nearly ""down, Simmondsen wended his way to the bank and emerged in the shallow water, with Charley a few paces behind -you,] ~\ Syd ' cook. "You're] ~, "you're Syd y innocent] innercent Syd 'pack-horse;] ~-5j/., ^ '.' "Rocket and Revolver stood nose to tail in an adjacent patch of scrub, sleepily whisking the flies off each other. " Illustration by Percy F. S. Spence, Bulletin, 17 December 1892 BUNTHORP'S DECEASE "S'pose you'll give a fellow a feed?" he remarked. Bunthorp nodded majestically, as if to impress the man with the idea that he had only closed his eyes for a few minutes in order to meditate better over the advantage of, only a first cross of Herefords; but the new-comer, quite unimpressed, strolled down to the water to fill the small "billy"'' he was carrying. When he returned, Bunthorp was just starting off with the winkers in his hand to catch his horses; he indicated the remainder of the bread and beef to the man, who acknowledged the favour with an easy nod as he piled the blazing sticks around his billy to facilitate a speedy boil. When the old gentleman returned with the nags the stranger enquired for the tea and sugar with the cool familiarity of an acquaintance. "Not a bad sort of a prad' that brown one," he remarked; "looks a little gone in the near fore-leg." Bunthorp was speechless. Rocket, the prad in question, was rising five* and as sound as a bell. He slipped on the collars whilst the swagman made and sweetened his tea. Then he busied himself putting the contents of the buggy straight. Meantime his uninvited guest attacked the bread and beef "How far to Branksia Downs.'" he said, as Bunthorp was preparing to start. "About fifteen miles." "You wouldn't give a fellow a lift, would you? I'm dog-tired." Now, Bunthorp was the best-natured of men, and, moreover, was never slow in boasting how he had risen from the ranks himself; but the idea of driving up to Branksia Downs homestead with this disreputable-looking dead-beat beside him, was rather a staggerer. He hesitated. "Come, guv'nor, if you knew how just about done up I am, you wouldn't think twice. What's my weight to two such bits of stuff as those?" "Well, look sharp and finish your grub," said the old fellow, "I won't wait long." The seedy stranger made but a few bites of the remainder, swallowed his tea scalding-hot without winking, and in a few minutes took his seat with the greatest coolness beside James Bunthorp, Esq., of Wattlemere. Rocket and Revolver soon covered the fifteen miles, the swagman beguiling the way with a little general advice on pastoral matters, hints as to breeding, &c., winding up by urging his disgusted companion to TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS '"Sposeyou 'II give a fellow a feed?' he remarked. " Illustration by Percy F. S. Spence, Bulletin, 17 December 1892 BUNTHORP'S DECEASE 113 always drive with a cross-bar on the pole,' in future. In fact, when they arrived at the paddock-gate, half-a-mile from the station, Bunthorp could scarcely determine whether he had given the stranger a lift, or the stranger had given him one. At the gate he saw his opportunity. The man got down to open it. "I will send your swag to the men's hut," said Bunthorp, as whipping up his horses he drove on, leaving the discom- fited wayfarer to close the gate and follow on foot. "Well, Fred, my boy," said the old man, as a young fellow came out to greet him. "Heard such terrible accounts of you from Jim that I had to come over myself and see about it." "What has Jim been saying.'" returned the other, as he shook him heartily by the hand. "But come inside first; George will see to the buggy and horses. Glory! what sort of a swag is that you've got on board?" "O! I gave a fellow a lift on the road. There he is, coming up the paddock now. Give him his swag, George, when he comes up," he continued to the groom, and then both men went inside the house. "Have you got any of the old whisky left, Fred, or was it all swamped this muster.'" "Not quite!" returned the other; "rather too good for the general public, who only want something that bites as it goes down. No fear, here we are." "His heart is in the right place," murmured old Bunthorp as he put the amber-coloured fluid to his lips. "Your father and I bought this whisky in bond six years ago," he continued aloud. "Unfortunately my share is gone, but-here's to his memory. Now, Fred, I must speak seriously." "Suppose we wait until after dinner, it will be ready at six. I just want to run down to the yard for a minute; meantime you know your old room. Go and rinse some of the dust off" "Seems nothing wrong with him-wonder if Jim has been taking a rise out of me!" thought the old man, as he turned into the bedroom he generally occupied. "My word!"* There had been some changes in the interior arrangements of Branksia since his last visit, and young Deane had forgotten that he had transferred his own belongings to the former guest-chamber, conse- quently, when Bunthorp turned into what he thought was his room, he found himself in Fred's. But this had not occasioned the exclamation. Fred's room in its simple bareness was quite familiar to him. There was 114 TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS the collection of whips, the ""row of boots, from a dandified pair of tops that he once rode a steeplechase in to the reach-me-down bluchers that he wore in the drafting-yard, a few native weapons, a picture of Carbine,' and the necessary furniture, that was all as it should be; but there was something fresh-a new picture on the wall: a photograph got up and finished in the style these things are done now-a-days.'° The likeness of an exceedingly pretty girl. Bunthorp picked up his vaUse again and beat a retreat, chuckling. "The young dog, won't I roast him! " And it was only after three or four immersions in cold water that he managed to wash the sly look out of his jolly face. Meantime Deane was astonished to find no one at the yard. There were a few head of cattle to be drafted, some outsiders, missed during the muster, and he wished to draft them overnight, so that the calves could be branded at daylight in the morning. A sustained yell brought two or three men out of the hut. "Nearly forgot all about the cattle, Mr. Deane," said one, as he swung himself over the cap." "Blessed if we were not all laughing so at that cure of a fellow Mr. Bunthorp gave a lift to." "Regular bush lawyer," said another. "Then he won't get a job from me," replied Deane, as he picked up the drafting-pole" and opened the gate. "Job!" said the man who had first spoken, "he don't want no job- lives upon blow." At dinner Bunthorp was brimming over with facetiousness. Myste- rious allusions to a coming volume of poetry, to the expense of re-furnishing the house and building "a weaning paddock" (nursery), to breaking in side-saddle horses, and various other old jokes, at which he laughed so much himself that Fred had to join him. "Now, when is it to be!" he said when they were seated in the verandah doing the regulation-pipe. Fred felt glad it was comparatively dark, for the old man's fun was rather merciless. "I suppose," he said, "that beggar Jim has been telling tales about me. "He said you had taken to writing poetry, to spouting it, and singing it to a concertina." "Confounded old ass he must be. I only asked him his opinion on a ' row] rows Ei BUNTHORP'S DECEASE 1 1 5 few lines of verse, and as for the concertina business-why, we were just trying to pick out a tune together. But I suppose I may as well own up- I am engaged." "Who is she, Fred?" "Come in to the light," returned Deane; and going to his room he returned with the portrait Bunthorp had seen hanging on the wall. "Do you know her.'" he asked, as Bunthorp regarded it admiringly and curiously. "I seem to recognise the face," said the old gentleman; "seems as familiar as possible now and again, and then it's all different." "You have not seen her for five years, and she was only 13 then — ." "Not Maggie Barlow.?" cried Bunthorp, with the fun gone clean out of his face and voice. "Certainly it is. Why, she used to be your greatest pet at one time." "Ah, that was before Deane found Barlow out. I admit I did like her immensely, as a child, but you can't alter a bad breed, no matter how good-looking the calf is; it will come out by-and-bye." Fred coloured, although he also felt inclined to laugh. "Of course, I stand you saying things I would not let anybody else utter, but you're very unjust, to say the least of it." "Unjust! Why.' Was I not acquainted with the whole of the circum- stances? Did not your father confide everything to me, and, by my advice, did not prosecute him? Only for me, Fred, Barlow would now be in prison. Your father was not a merciful man, you know, although nobody could be juster." "I know the man yielded to a great temptation, and he has bitterly repented it ever since," returned Deane; "but I believe, and I think you do, that it was done to save his son." "That's another pretty thing," cried the old gentleman, who was now excitedly walking up and down the room. "You mark my words: so soon as ever you are married, that precious scamp will turn up and sponge on you." "I think you know me better than that. Am I such a weak-minded individual?" "No, Fred, you've got plenty of backbone, but he'll try it on. He'll hear of it, even if he's in Pentridge or Darlinghurst." "I think he must be dead. Maggie has not heard his name mentioned for years. But we won't talk any more to-night. Sleep on it, and I know you'll give me your best wishes in the morning." Half-an-hour afterwards Deane was alone, strolling about in front of 1 1 6 TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS the verandah, smoking and thinking of the late conversation. The night was dead calm, and the voices from the men's quarters sounded clear and distinct; one in particular, which he could not recognise, seemed to monopolise the conversation. "The bush lawyer, I suppose," thought Fred, and by way of amuse- ment he sauntered within hearing. The men were lounging about in the broad verandah of the kitchen, and the traveller was holding forth. "Bunthorp! Who's Bunthorp?" he was saying; "why, you coves seem to think that he's the Hemperor of China. Now, I'll bet you a fiver all round"-here there was a burst of laughter-"What are you laughing at.'" demanded the unabashed swagman. "Produce your fivers, old man," said one of his audience. "Well, I ain't got 'em about me just now," returned the shabby stranger, "but I would bet you if I had 'em that you give old Bunthorp a French book to read and he won't understand a word of it, and give it to me and I'll translate it straight off the reel. '^ Yet he drives his buggy and I have to walk." "Except when he gives you a lift," said the cook. "Hang his lift," returned the other. "Mighty generous thing to do with a couple of fat, strong horses in the traces." "I don't know whether he understands French or not," said the stockman, "and I don't care, but he's a decent old boy, and I wish there were a few more of his sort knocking about the district." "Decent old boy!" sneered the swagman. "Who couldn't be decent with a good-paying station and a fat balance in the bank.'" "Plenty of 'em," said the cook. "I know lots far richer than Bunthorp who are as mean as you make 'em." "Just so," returned the traveller, "and the worst of it is, it's catching. Now, if old Bunthorp came to you and said 'Bill, I'm short of change; lend me a note,' you'd say, 'certainly, Mr. Bunthorp, take two,' now, wouldn't you.'" "Of course I would, if I had it." "Of course you would, and if I came to you and said 'Bill, I'm stone broke; lend me a note till I get a job,' what would you say?" There was an ominous silence; then the stockman reared up his long, lean form, and, knocking the ashes out of his pipe, remarked: "I'm going to camp; we've got to be up the first thing to brand those calves, boys." There was a general dispersal, and the disgusted swagman was left with his question unanswered. BUNTHORP'S DECEASE 1 1 7 "I wonder," thought Deane, as he made his way to bed, "how it is that that fellow's voice is so familiar to me? Bad egg, I suppose, who speaks like a gentleman by accident now and again." II. Barlow had been Crown Lands Commissioner"* in the neighbouring township five years before. He was a widower, with one girl, but people who knew 'everything said that the Barlow who got three years for embezzlement from one of the banks was his son. It was a much-talked-of case, from the despicable efforts made by the culprit, who was bank-teller, to put the guilt on to an innocent man. Deane and Bunthorp knew the truth for they had been fast friends of the commis- sioner until the fatal day when a broken, miserable man rode to Branksia Downs and confessed to the owner that he had used his name criminally to obtain money; and gave him back the price of his shame. Bunthorp, who was there, believed that it was a mad attempt, made too late, to save his son from disgrace, and begged his old friend, whose nature was less placable, to take the money and spare the unfortunate father. Deane did so. Barlow applied for a change, and his name was never willingly mentioned by the two who had been his friends. All these things came into Bunthorp's mind before he fell asleep; and as the old man knew, too, that black sheep were to be found in nearly every flock, he gradually came round to the opinion that possibly a young fellow like Deane, with his head screwed on right, could not come to much grief by marrying a girl like Maggie, whose only fault was a disgraced brother, and a father prematurely broken down by that son's disgrace. Before Bunthorp fell asleep, he had in spirit bestowed a fatherly blessing on the young people. Fate seemed determined that his slumbers should not be as cahn as his conscience merited. Somebody touched him; somebody whis- pered, "Mr. Deane!" Bunthorp was not nervous, he had gone through too many rough episodes. "Who is there.'" he asked in an equally low tone. "Bell! Sergeant Bell! We are after somebody, and I think he's here. I don't want to disturb the place or he might give us the slip. Any strangers here to-night.?" "I'm Bunthorp. Fred has changed his room. There was a traveller on the road. I gave him a lift. He's here to-night, I suppose." ' everything] anything Ei 1 1 8 TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS "Where did you pick him up?" said the sergeant, still in a whisper. "At the yellow waterhole." "Yes, that's where we lost his tracks, we guessed you might have picked him up so we came straight on here. I suppose he's in the men's hut. But I'm glad I saw you first"-this was allegorical, for it was pitch-dark-"can you come outside for a minute.?" Bunthorp noise- lessly slipped on some clothes and, barefooted, followed the police- man, who had also left his boots outside. Out of hearing of the house they put on their foot-gear and went a short distance to where a black tracker stood holding three horses. "I should like to get this fellow away quietly without troubling Mr. Deane," said the sergeant, "now that I have the chance; for I'll tell you who he is. That son of old Barlow's who served his time for the bank swindle." Bunthorp whistled. "What has he been up to.'" "Valueless cheques for one thing, and doctoring a cheque for an- other, turned seven into seventy; very neatly too, I understand. He got a warning from somebody and gave the Brisbane police the slip; he's splendidly got up as a hard-up loafer, and has got all the patter off like a professional hand, no one suspected him but a girl at the Royal, in — , who knew him in his bank days. She gave him away. Of course, you know, Deane is sweet on the sister, so I should like to take him quietly for both their sakes." "Very thoughtful of you. Bell, I am sure;" said Bunthorp; "how can we manage it.'" "We can't take him now without waking the place, and if we wait till daylight he might give us the slip-he's so artful," returned Bell. "Deane will be down at the yard for an hour or two after daylight, there are a few calves to brand. Could you manage it then?" "I think so, it's not more than two hours off daylight now. We'll turn our horses out behind that patch of scrub, and be up there at crow-chirp and catch my gentleman in his blankets as soon as the others go down to the yard. There's an old hut alongside the kitchen we can plant"' in." "I'll slip in and get you a bit of grub, our supper is still on the table," said the hospitable Mr. Bunthorp, and hke a substantial phantom he disappeared in the darkness, and presently returned with some prov- ender and a drop of the incomparable whisky, which he had smuggled out without wakening Deane, the only other occupant of the house. Bunthorp had no desire to return to bed, but shared the sergeant's watch until the first streak of light in the eastern horizon warned them BUNTHORP'S DECEASE 119 to be on the alert. Quietly they stationed themselves in the old hut, whence, through the chinks between the slabs, they could see what went on. It was done without any trouble at all. Deane and his men were busy at the yard when Bell stood over the sleeper and requested the pleasure of his company. Before they started, Bunthorp got leave to say a few words privately to the prisoner. "I know who you are," he said, "and for your father's sake, whom you nearly ruined, I should like to do something for you. What can I do.' I presume you are guilty of this charge.'"' Barlow looked at him with his manner partly changed; and the old man noted with sorrow the likeness to his sister, which he now saw plainly. "I may get out of this," was the answer, "I think there's a legal quibble or two in my favour; if I do, may I ask a favour of you?" "Yes, I will do what I can. What is it?" "When the time comes I will ask it," and he turned away. Next minute the sergeant and his prisoner were gone. When Fred came up to breakfast, he was in blissful ignorance that his prospective brother-in-law had just been marched off in handcuffs; and there was some laughter amongst the men when they were told of the swagman's exit. Bunthorp naturally scanned the papers with some degree of interest, until he saw that Barlow's favourable anticipation had been only partially fulfilled. He had managed to wriggle out of the graver charge, and escaped with twelve months' imprisonment and a severe lecture from the judge for one of the minor offences. Fred Deane was married, and Bunthorp had beamed on the union. Eighteen months had flown by, when he received a letter he had been for some time expecting; it was from young Barlow, asking for the promised help. The letter touched the good old man. There was no hypocritical pretence of reformation: the writer simply stated his desire to leave Australia and begin life anew in another country, mentioning the Cape as the colony to be honoured with his patronage, and asking for a sum of money to enable him to go there. Needless to say it was at once forwarded; and Bunthorp trusted that that page was folded down for good. "My dear Fred," he wrote, some six months afterwards, "I have just remembered that the 5th of next month is your wife's birthday, so I am coming over the day before to stop the night, and bring a present to deliver the next morning. Don't show this to Maggie, or she may be TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS curious. On the evening of the 4th, according to promise, Bunthorp and Jim Newton drove up to Branksia, but the most inquisitive glances cast into the buggy, still drawn by the faithful Rocket and Revolver, could not discern an5fthing unusual in its contents. This was not to be wondered at, for "the present" was but a letter with a Cape of Good Hope stamp on it, telling of young Barlow's bright prospects, and conveying a kind message to his sister, and an assurance that the future would atone for the past. The old man had a small gift as well, but this was the surprise he had planned. That night he slept in the room made memorable by the visit of Sergeant Bell, and it was with a decidedly nervous start that he found his slumbers once more disturbed. Somebody was moving about the room, apparently examining the contents of the dressing-table. Bunthorp sprang out of bed as fast as a stout, old gentleman, who had been sleeping on his back, could be expected to spring. As that was not very rapidly, the intruder had gone before Bunthorp had reached the spot where his shadowy form had been visible. Bunthorp went out to the verandah, but an outcry of dogs by the stables told him that the pursuit was vain; the quarry had too good a start. Returning to his room he struck a match, and, having lit a candle, proceeded to investigate. Apparently nothing had been taken, but on the table was a leaf from a pocket-book, folded and addressed to himself "If you want to save your friend Deane some trouble and distress," it ran, "take a walk down the paddock, as far as the gate, before breakfast, as soon after sunrise as possible." "Is this Queensland or one of the disturbed districts of Ireland.'" muttered the old man, savagely, as he got into bed again. "I'll take a walk down the paddock with a good whip in my hand, and all the dogs with me;" and in a few minutes he was sound asleep again. Like all bushmen he instinctively awoke at daybreak, and, dressing himself, went out just as the red sun appeared above the low tree line. He had a heavy crop in his hand, and a whistle brought at least half-a-dozen demonstrative dogs of all breeds to his heels, eager for a morning gambol. The paddock-gate was out of sight of the homestead, being screened by some clumps of scrub; leaning against it was a man, who, when he turned and faced the new-comer, revealed to Bunthorp's intense amazement the features of the former swagman, young Barlow. He was fairly well-dressed, and a good horse was fastened to the fence a few panels away. BUNTHORP'S DECEASE "So you've come back from the Cape?" was Bunthorp's exclamation. "I've never been to the Cape, you old fool!" was the amazing reply. "That letter was posted by a friend of mine who went there. No; I have got a long score to settle with you before we ha ve done with each other . " "You d — d thief, you took my money — " began Bunthorp, violently. "Yes," interrupted the other, "I took your money under false pretences; and I put it on the Melbourne Cup, and, by George, I won, and I intend to get some more out of you, so there." "No, I'll be boiled down if you will," said the old man. "What score have you to settle with me?" "Didn't you put that — sergeant on to me? He told me all about it. When you found out who I was, why didn't you give me warning and get me away? You could easily have managed it. Hang you and your friendship for my father. Between you all I've been shamefully treated, and I intend to take it out of you." During this harangue Bunthorp had been, so to say, stoking; he was now at boiling heat and ripe for an explosion. "You hang-dog gaol-bird," he commenced, "you been shamefully treated! why you have never had your deserts yet. Take it out of me, you abominable scoundrel? Why don't you do it?" and he fairly danced with rage. "Keep cool, old boy," said Barlow, "you'll want all your breath before you've done with me. To-day is Maggie's birthday, and I am going to present myself to wish her many happy returns. I can assure you some of my prison anecdotes will quite liven up the conversation, and I really won't stop away under a high consideration." "You'll not get a red cent, that I guarantee. Fred Deane is not such a fool as to be blackmailed by you; try it, and see what you'll get," returned Bunthorp whose business faculties at once came to the front. "Oh, but that is not all; you and Fred's father compounded a felony; you know you did; that will be a nice little story to rake up." "Whether we broke the law or not I do not know, but every honest man will be on our side, and I don't care a snap of the fingers for the rest." The two men looked at each other defiantly across the gate, but the swindler had failed and he knew it. He turned away jauntily. "Well," he said, airily, "I'll call round after breakfast, see you again. So long, old Bun." This was the crowning insult. Flinging open the gate Bunthorp with upraised whip rushed at the sneering Barlow while the joyous dogs surged tumultuously around. The two men struggled together and the TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS dogs, wild with delight, sent up a chorus of yelling, barking, and snapping that raised some laggard cur at the station and attracted everybody's attention. Barlow's horse, startled at the uproar, broke his bridle with an indignant snort and trotted away in the bush. "The dogs have got a kangaroo stuck up at the back of the scrub," said one of the men, and two or three of them came running down. Bunthorp had got in several stinging cuts before Barlow seized the whip, and then they struggled hard for the possession of it, the dogs making indiscriminate and quite impartial snaps at the legs of both. The younger man succeeded in viresting the crop from his opponent, who was soon winded; he threw him off and gave him a blow with the butt as he did so, unfortunately, on the head. Bunthorp went down senseless and Barlow started to pursue his horse, but the pack of dogs had to be first scattered with the whip. By this time two active men who had taken a short cut through the scrub appeared on the scene. They vaulted over the fence, and as Barlow's horse was now nearly out of sight, he saw it was useless to run, so stood still to await them. "The old fellow turned on me with his whip, and in the struggle I knocked him down," he said, when they reached the spot. They bent over Bunthorp, and one of them gave a loud coo-ee that brought others down-amongst them Deane and Nevrton. They carried the old man up to the house and marched Barlow along. He did not reveal himself, although some of them recognised him with surprise as the swagman. Once at the station he requested to see Deane alone, and told him who he was, asserting that it was only in self-defence he had struck Bunthorp, which was literally true, and insisting on being allowed to depart in search of his horse. Deane was rather puzzled; he compro- mised matters by sending a black boy after the horse and telling his brother-in-law that he would not allow him to leave until Bunthorp was conscious: meantime, if he wanted any assistance, he had better keep himself quiet and not attempt to see his sister. Between them, Mrs. Deane and Newton had now recalled the unconscious Bunthorp to life once more. "I gave it to him, Jim," were the first words he spoke. "Called me old Bun." Then he lay back and closed his eyes. Presently he opened them again; "Maggie," he said, "I want to be alone with Jim for a minute." Mrs. Deane nodded and left the room. "Look here, Jim," said the old man eagerly, "I'm going to die." "Go to blazes!" rephed his astonished nephew. "In about an hour's time I shall expire," repeated his uncle, "No, I'm BUNTHORP'S DECEASE 123 not wandering. I'm in solemn earnest. Do you think you could get me a drop of that old whisky: I feel faint?" Newton, with astonishment all over his face, left the room, and Bunthorp went off into a series of chuckles; evidently he had got hold of a brilliant idea. His nephew returned, and Bunthorp swallowed the spirits. "What's become of that fellow.'" he asked. "Deane has locked him up somewhere." "Right! Now, Jim, I'll explain myself So far as dying is concerned, it would take more than a knock like that to kill me; but that scamp is young Barlow, who, of course, you've heard of. Now, he can't do any real harm, and Fred is not the man to be sponged on and robbed, but he might make things unpleasant. People would talk, Maggie would feel it, and there might be trouble between husband and wife, because, after all, people are only human. Now, if I die-you twig-Barlow will stand his trial for murder. Deane gives him a chance to clear out and he'll take care never to show up in Queensland again, where he'll think there's a halter waiting for him. Savee, James?" And the restored Bunthorp dug his amazed nephew in the ribs. Barlow was confined in the store; he had been reposing on the top of a pile of flour-bags reading a yellow-back,'' for some time, when the door opened and Deane appeared. He appeared greatly excited. "The old man is dead," he said hurriedly, "I can't see you hanged, for you're Maggie's brother after all. Your horse is tied up at the paddock gate, the men are at dinner, slip down through the scrub and be off before Newton comes, for he's going to take you into the police-camp himself." "But," said the other, "it was only manslaughter; he attacked me. I'll stand my trial." "You infernal fool, what show have you got? Look at your character, who saw him strike you? who will believe you? The men took you red-handed with the whip in your hand. Stay and be hanged if you like. Newton will swear your life away, he's furious." "I have very little money," said Barlow sullenly. "Here, take this, it is enough to pay your passage and give you a start somewhere. Now, for God's sake go, before it is too late." Barlow moved to the door; he was beginning to grasp the situation, and didn't like it. "Keep off the roads," said Deane, "and slip out of the country like greased lightning; everybody liked Bunthorp and they will search high 124 TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS and low for you." Deane stood at the door as though keeping watch; he saw his brother-in-law disappear in the first patch of scrub, and that was the last he ever saw of him. Few livelier corpses have ever been seen at a dinner-table than Bunthorp's was that evening. Newton said that "a crack on the cobra" must have a more stimulating effect on the brain than any amount of the incomparable whisky. That Other Fellow. I ■■■ I A TALE OP THE SEVENTIES. [Fob Thk Bulletin.] ^ UNOAN MoINTYRE sat on the cap of the stockyard fence, smoking quietly, contemplating a colt which, in his capacity of horse-breaker, he was about to mount for the first time. The colt was also ooatemplating Duncan, and wondering what Title drawing, Bulletin, 17 December 1892. That Other Fellow. A TALE OF THE SEVENTIES [For The Bulletin.] Duncan McIntyre' sat on the cap of the 'stockyard fence, smoking quietly, contemplating a colt which, in his capacity of horse-breaker, he was about to mount for the first time. The colt was also contemplating Duncan, and wondering what fresh devilry he meditated. Only a week ago and he was as free as air; now, he was penned in by posts and rails, his mouth sore with a breaking-bit, a roller^ had been buckled around him in which he felt as comfortable as a girl in her first corset, his mane and tail had been pulled, and to-day a saddle had been girthed on him- all these indignities he justly attributed to the man "cockatooing"^ on the fence. He had been violently taking it out of himself bucking round the yard, and now stood breathlessly gazing at his enemy. Duncan knocked the ashes out of his pipe, replaced it in his pouch, and sprang lightly down into the enclosure. A blackfellow, who had been sunning himself in a corner, arose also on noticing the movement. Between fear and exertion the colt was sweating profusely, the perspi- ration dropped from his body on to the dusty ground, and ran in dirty streams down his ''legs. The pair looked in each other's eyes like two duellists. Neither man nor horse could foresee the future; there they were on an equality of ignorance. No instinct could tell the animal that a time would come when he would appeal to his hated foe with piteous whinnies for relief, and die with that hand caressing him, and those eyes full of unshed tears for his fate. The blackboy approached the horse's head while Duncan made the usual preparations to mount. "My word!" said the boy as he got hold of the colt's ear, "this the fellow Sherman Jarley say, kick out mid his front feet that time we brand him." Copy-text: Bulletin. Apparatus: Syd and Ei (see pp. 3-5 for details). • stockyard fence] stock-yard fence Syd " <• legs.] legs. After a smart display of equine temper, Duncan got his hand on the youngster's mane and spoke soothingly to him. P "Steady, old boy, you've had your fling like the rest of us, and now work begins." Syd ' the] his Ei 126 THAT OTHER FELLOW 127 "Yes, Billy," returned Duncan, flipping the stirrup-leather once or twice against the flap of the saddle; "and if you don't let go quick he'll shake hands with you as he did with German Charley. Now!" With a quick, easy movement he was in the saddle, and the boy stepped back. For a moment the colt stood motionless, then started pawing and rearing, and again stood doggedly ''still. "Get your horse, Billy," 'said Mclntyre, and the boy, after letting down the rails, 'mounted an old horse which %ad been standing indifferent and half-asleep in an adjacent yard; then the colt, after a little coaxing, ''went off quietly down the paddock alongside the old stager." Duncan Mclntyre was a gentleman who had gone down in the world. He was one of 'the victims of heredity; only, unfortunately for himself, he had not succeeded to the whisky-proof head of his Scottish ances- tors. Liquor ever turned him from a generous, easy-going, mild-tempered fellow into a mad rowdy, ready to ride a wild race through the main street of a bush township, fight with his best friend, or drink with his worst enemy. Fortunately, his manly, adventurous character had prevented him sinking into the ranks of the sponger and the loafer. He had fallen from his own set to an ordinary bush hand, and could always earn a good cheque at any kind of work, but this was surely followed by the fatal and inevitable "spree:" some morning he would awake possessed of nothing but the clothes he had slept in, "a liver,"^ a blue-blanket* and a bottle of sudden-death' kindly given him by the publican to stave off the impending "horrors." One day Fate led him to Darromine, a medium-sized cattle-station. Mitford, the managing partner, was a man gifted with an exceptionally good and kindly heart. He knew Mclntyre's story, soon recognised the worth dormant beneath the assumed roughness of the fallen nature, and, after some trouble, induced him to come and live with him, and endeavour to 'resume once more the habits of his better days. Natu- rally, the besetting sin betrayed itself from time to time, but Mitford set himself to banish the unclean spirit, and by untiring vigilance, unaccompanied by any ostentatious display of solicitude, he partly " still.] still. P "Now don't sulk," said Mclntyre, but the words were no sooner uttered than the colt started bucking in a vicious and roundabout fashion, which called upon all the rider's powers of horsemanship. The struggle lasted a short time only, and then the horse gave in, defeated. Syd still. P "Now.. .in defeated. Ei ' said] says Syd ' mounted] mounts Syd ' had] has Syd ' went] goes Syd ' the] the curst Syd ' resume] assume Syd 1 28 TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS succeeded. Needless to say that Duncan had conceived a strong and lasting friendship for the other. II. Some fifteen miles from Darromine there was a small township, and in that township lived the fair and only daughter of the police-magistrate thereof, a widower. She was nineteen and the belle of the district. Not that she prided herself on that distinguished position, for there were only five girls in the district, all told, and the other four were so uncommonly hard-featured that to be the acknowl- edged belle in such company was, after all, but a doubtful distinction. Doubtless Miss Jennie Webster cherished a hidden conviction, in which she was quite justified, that, had she to compete with more favoured rivals she would have held her own; but this notion she kept to herself, and did not assume any undue airs as the belle of ''Corraville.* Jennie smiled upon all alike, but favoured no one in particular. 'Now, it happened that the very day on which Duncan gave the colt his first lesson had been selected by Mr. Webster to drive his daughter to Darromine on a visit. Mclntyre and Billy were walking the horses quietly homeward along the "Corraville-road, which led through the paddock, when at a turn amongst some scrub they were suddenly overtaken by the buggy. The colt shied violently and commenced to buck. It was rather awkward in the scrub, and Duncan was nearly getting into trouble two or three times ere he brought his green mount under control. After offering his apologies for unintentionally fright- ening the colt, which the young lady "accompanied with a frank smile of admiration, for most women like to see good horsemanship, the police-magistrate and his daughter drove on. "What a quiet man that Mr. Mclntyre is," said Jennie, "I can never get half-a-dozen words out of him; but he can ride." Her father smiled somewhat grimly; Mclntyre's past was known to him, and he was glad to see the change that was being "worked. Mitford was one of Jennie's victims. For a long time he had been '' Corraville.] Corraville. Needless to say that all the youth of the district were madly in love with her, even those who professed engagements with absent fair ones in Sydney or Melbourne. Jennie smiled upon all alike, but favoured no one in particular. Syd Corraville. Needless.. .youths of.. .particular. Ei ' Now,] ~ Syd " Corraville-road] Corraville road Syd " accompanied] accepted Syd ° worked.] worked. P "It's a case of still waters, my girl," he replied, "but he is a good fellow, I believe." Syd THAT OTHER FELLOW 1 29 ready to lay himself and his share of Darromine at her feet; the present visit, therefore, translated him to the seventh heaven. "How well you ride, Mr. Mclntyre," said Miss Webster in the course of the dinner; "I must confess I like to see a bit of good buckjumping." Duncan smiled. "I nearly came to grief under that low brigalow' though," he said. "I saw it," she returned; "and I can assure you my heart was in my mouth, for it was all our fault." "How does he shape.?" asked Mitford, alluding to the colt. "Very well indeed. I have taken a great fancy to him, he has no vice- it's only nervousness. In a week he'll get confidence, and in a month I'll make a lady's hack of him." "There! Miss Webster," said Mitford; "may I send him in for you to ride this day month if Mclntyre guarantees that he is fit?" "Certainly, I accept the challenge," she returned, for she was a good horsewoman. "I will rely upon Mr. Mclntyre's skill and judgment.'' Duncan bowed and the subject dropped; but thenceforth the colt, christened Challenger, became the object of special care and attention. The month passed, and Miss Webster, arrayed in a workmanlike habit of ""dark-blue serge, was seated "ion the verandah reading a book, and occasionally glancing along the road which led to Darromine. A rider with a led horse presently made his appearance, but, sooth to say, the young lady looked slightly disappointed. "He might have come too, to see how the colt went," she thought. "Are you ready, dad?" she called out; "here comes Mr. Mitford with the horse." Mitford rode into the stable yard, and the magistrate and his daughter came out to inspect the colt. What a difference to the sullen, fierce-eyed rebel who had snorted defiance at his enemy only thirty days before! "Oh, dad, isn't he a beauty!" cried the little lady in her delight. "Mclntyre has handled him so that a child could ride him, but he is full of pluck all the same," said Mitford, delighted at her pleasure. Challenger was soon saddled, and the three set out; the trim-figured Jennie forgetting her annoyance at the non-appearance of Mclntyre in the pleasure of her mount. The ride was a success, and thenceforth Challenger was entirely at Miss Webster's disposal. ' dark-blue] dark blue Syd "< on] in Syd 1 30 TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS It is impossible for a "'inan and a girl to be on the verge of a violent passion for each other without both knowing it, although never a word may have been interchanged on the subject. Jennie had not quite suffered herself to fall in love with the interesting Duncan, but she was perilously near it. Mclntyre himself was lost. He had fought against the feeling tooth and nail; had told himself over and over again that the curse which shadowed his life made it a heinous crime for him to think of marriage; and had almost won the fight. Suddenly the fatal knowl- edge came to him that it needed but a word from him to obtain the confession of her affection. The flower was unfolding for him to pluck. He almost threw caution to the winds. Almost-not quite. Mitford came back from Corraville one evening with his simny face clouded: he had ventured all, and lost. "I am sure she would have had me, old man," he innocently confided to his friend, "but there's another fellow in the way; she as good as admitted it." Duncan was silent for some time; then he rallied his companion, and somewhat roused him from his despondency. "Look here, Mclntyre," said 'Mitford, "You have heard of the country out west beyond the Queensland border.? We are thinking of taking a bit up, and sending out some of our spare stock to 'form a station. Will you go out and manage "for us for a third share and a salary.'" Duncan rose and shook the other's hand. "Your offer is too generous. You could get a man anywhere for a couple or three hundred a year." "No, we couldn't, not such an all-round man as you. Besides, it's not all beer and skittles living out there. What with fever and blacks and short commons, you'll earn your third share." "When do you propose to start?" "You and I and a blackboy will go as soon as possible and inspect the country. When we come back we will start the cattle, provided we fmd anything good "enough." After a few more words they parted for the night. Mclntyre lay sleepless, thinking of what the day had brought forth. She might have accepted Mitford, but for that other fellow. He, Duncan Mclntyre, the ' man and a girl] girl and a man Ei ' Mitford,] Mitford, "I have a plan in my head about which I have abeady consulted mypartnerand obuined his consent. Syd ' form] form for us Eif " for us] Om. Eif ' enough." P After] enough. We have three years' grace to stock." P "There is nothing much to do here," returned Mclntyre, "we can start in a fortnight." After Syd THAT OTHER FELLOW 1 3 1 ne'er-do-well, was "that other fellow." His way was clear: before him lay escape from the temptation of love, and perhaps a drunkard's death-he must go, and go quickly without speaking. Of a sudden he asked himself would she forget him? Would not his exile in the wilderness arouse the very flame he sought to extinguish, by adding the touch of absence and romance? No, that other fellow must go under in a way that would conclude the matter. Mitford on his return would probably get a favourable answer. ""That other fellow" went under that night, although Mitford on his restless bed little thought so. Mclntyre had broken out again. That was the last news in the little township where news was so scarce. Everybody said they had expected it all along, and everybody, saving the local publicans, said they were very sorry. It had been "an old man spree." Duncan had damaged the sergeant of police, who was good-naturedly trying to induce him to leave town. Mitford had to come in and bail him out of the lock-up. Jennie had heard of it, and shed some bitter tears, but, with all a woman's faith in the reforming power of love, still believed that had she the right she could exorcise the evil spirit. Alas for Jennie, the worst was yet to come. Mclntyre went "on the tear" again, and this time capped all his former delinquencies. One of the publicans had imported a new barmaid, a young damsel with gold-washed "hair. Duncan rode Chal- lenger into tovm, and an hour or two afterwards Flossie might have been seen steering the colt'° down the main street in the sight of all people. Jennie saw her, saw this garish young party mounted on the horse that had been kept sacred to her use, that Mclntyre had devoted weeks to breaking in for her. Challenger, her pet who ate sugar from her hand! From that moment poor Duncan was to her a thing of the most bitter scorn and contempt. He might have damaged the whole of the police-force and painted the town scarlet, and been forgiven; but this insult was too much. That other fellow went under for good and all. One small bit of triumph was afforded her. The vain-glorious Flossie, flushed with the pride that precedes a fall, took opportunity, when parading before the P.M.'s house, to give Challenger a cruel and undeserved cut across the ears. This for a horse of spirit, accustomed " "That other fellow" ] Syd ° " hair.] hair, who rejoiced in the name of Flossie. Syd 1 32 TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS to be treated as a gentleman, was unendurable. Already irritated by the antics of his strange rider, he gave a side-bound that seated Flossie, to her sudden astonishment, in the middle of the dusty road. Challenger trotted off, and the forlorn damsel, holding up her skirt, had to follow on foot, amidst much chaff from the spectators. Mitford got Mclntyre out of town, somehow. Hurt as he ''was, he refrained from reproach, and he was rewarded. Ere they "started he asked once more, and this time he was told, "When you come back I may say "yes-"' What more would he have.' ""Only once did Jennie allude to the disgraceful episode. "I hope you are taking that horse with "you; I never want to see him again." Mitford assured her that the innocent animal which had done its best to protest against indignity, would never more be seen by her, httle dreaming of a time to come when life and hope would be bound up in Challenger's endurance and his rider's faith. They parted, and Jennie, watching, saw another horseman join him in the main street, and she turned into the house with a bright sparkle in her eye and a flush upon her cheek. III. A wide stretch of grey plain, bounded by a shimmering haze, a haze that grotesquely magnifies what few objects are visible; turning a stone into a rock, a bush into a tree. A shallow depression, bordered by dry polygonum bushes," with here and there a crooked, distorted coolibah tree, threads this plain. At one point in this apology for a creek, there is a pool of milky-looking water. From the edge of this pool a short growth of green grass extends for a little distance up the bank, and on this patch of sward, the only green thing visible, some horses are feeding. Under a scanty shade of boughs, erected near one of the largest coolibah trees, Mitford and Mclntyre are '^sitting, blackened by sun and wind, thin with semi-starvation, and cursed with "the infinite torment of flies."" The blackboy is curled up under the trunk of the tree. He lets the flies cluster around his eyes, infest his mouth and nostrils, and makes no effort, like the white men, to drive them away. The others are less patient, and a hasty exclamation continually escapes them. "When shall we get out of this purgatory?" says Mitford. ' was,] ~ Syd ' started] ~, Syd • 'yes.'] ~. SyJ " Only once] Once only Syd ' you;] ~, Syd ' sitting,] ~; Syd THAT OTHER FELLOW 133 They were in a trap. They had penetrated far into the unknown country west of the Queensland border. From one scanty water-hole to another they had made their way to their present position, and now they could neither advance nor retreat. Before them there was an illimitable expanse of dry country; behind them the water-holes had dried up, and their return was cut off Sturt, at the Depot Camp,'^ was in the same fix, and scores of men since have been caught in a similar way. A hundred and twenty miles of dry, cracked, gaping plains lay between them and a large permanent lagoon they had found on their outward journey. No horse could travel that distance without water under the vertical summer sun. No horse could traverse half the distance over the soft, spongy soil full of holes and deep 'cracks, and live. Their only hope was a kindly thunderstorm, for the water-hole where they were camped was fast shrinking, and when that was gone it meant death. Day after day they watched the clouds gather, dark and threatening, only to break in wind and dust, and a few fierce flashes of lightning. At last, an ominous cloud gathered in the east. As night drew on, the heavens darkened and the setting sun was reflected from the opposite hemisphere in a quickly-fading flush of angry scarlet. A black night closed in. The air was heavy, oppressive and sultry; the two men and the boy stood silently watching. Their fate was hidden in that sullen bank of vapour. Quick, bright flashes of lightning soon commenced to blaze, followed, after a long interval, by a low, distant mutter of thunder. Presently even this ceased, and, with a sigh of bitter disap- pointment, the men stretched themselves on their blankets and sought forgetfubiess in sleep. "How far off was that storm.'" said Mitford, breaking the silence. "Any distance over seventy miles," returned Duncan. "Did you not notice the long interval between the flash and the thunder.'" Mitford replied wearily, and both men soon slept. In an hour or two Mclntyre awoke, and instantly noticed a change in the atmosphere. The wind was blowing faintly from the direction of the late storm, and with it came the unmistakeable smell of wet earth. Rain had fallen to the eastward at last. The wind had brought the message, but from how far had it come.' Duncan aroused Mitford, and together they stood and sniffed the cool, damp air. ' cracks,] ~ Syd 1 34 TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS "We must get out of here somehow," said Mclntyre at last. "Now, listen. I am going to take Challenger and a pack-horse with water, and ride in the direction that wind comes from; I have the bearing, a little south of east. I will let the pack-horse go in about twenty miles, after I have given Challenger a drink from the bags; the pack-horse will come back here. I shall go on until I find where that storm fell. If I don't come back you will know it is too far, and that I am done for; then you must shift for yourself If I fmd water I shall come back." "But, Duncan, what nonsense! Why can't we all go and chance it?" "Because I might get a little puddle of water that would serve me and the horse and would not be enough for all of us. Man, don't you understand! I owe you a debt and must pay you in my own way. For God's sake, don't thwart me." Mitford could say no more. Mclntyre roused up Billy, and they strode into the darkness after the horses, which were soon caught, and, under the now starlit sky, the two men said good-bye. About three hours after daylight, Mclntyre pulled up, watered Challenger by means of a tin dish he had on the pack, then released the pack-horse to fmd its own way back to camp, and proceeded on his lonely way. Hour after hour of monotonous progress over the dead, dry plain, the only break an occasional shallow depression bordered with brown polygonum. Hour after hour through the great stillness of the night, save for a short occasional rest for his gallant horse. Daylight again, and the outlook unchanged-no sign of rainfall visible. As the sun got hotter Challenger began to show signs of distress, so Duncan started to walk, and together man and horse stumbled over the treacherous plain. He had a small canvas bag of water on his saddle, but only a scanty remnant of the former contents was now left. Death was walking beside them, step for step. At last Challenger began to give 'in. His flanks were pinched and the hollows over his eyes deep sunken; he rubbed his nose against Duncan's arm, whinnied, and looked pleadingly at him. These are the things to break a man's heart in the wilderness. StiU there was nothing in sight but the heat-haze and the tall columns of dust raised by the wandering whirlwinds that crossed their track. A false step and the horse went down. Mclntyre tried to get him up, but Challenger was too far gone-he must proceed alone. Wetting his lips with a few drops of the water fast evaporating from the bag, he went forward on the course he had been keeping. 'in. His] ~, his Sjrf THAT OTHER FELLOW 135 Suddenly, right in front of him, rose a small flock of birds. They wheeled and chattered and settled down again! It could only mean water, for since leaving camp he had seen no living thing, and now he recognised the birds as spur-winged plover. With perspiration nearly blinding him, he staggered on, and then he must have crossed the crest of an almost imperceptible rise, for before him the plain was covered with sheets of shallow water. He had reached the extreme edge of the thunderstorm. When Duncan hfted his face from the tepid pool after slaking his thirst, his first thought was of the dying horse on the plain. He filled his felt hat and the bag, and dragged himself back to his dumb companion. Challenger lifted his head when he saw him, and whinnied piteously. Four times more he made the journey backwards and forwards, and then the plucky horse managed to get on its legs and follow him down to the water. There was a solitary coolibah tree not far off, and in the miserable shade that it afforded Duncan sat down and tried to eat some of the dried horse-flesh he had brought with him. He was conscious of a fearful %eadache-he had been bareheaded when carrying the water to Challenger. He must get back as soon as possible, for the water on the plain was but a few inches deep and fast ''evaporating. Still he must spell his 'horse; after such an ordeal the colt would not carry him half-way without rest. At last he felt too stupid to think, and sank into a sleep that lasted until sundown. His head was still throbbing painfully when he awoke, and he arose and bathed it in one of the pools, but the water was warm and afforded him no relief Challenger seemed greatly recov- ered, and was feeding on the dry Mitchell grass. One thought haunted Duncan during the ensuing night of pain-the scorching ride back over the drought-smitten country. Suddenly a whisper seemed to come from the darkness, "Why go back?" To the eastward the country was well watered, and a few easy stages would take him to the Queensland border and safety. Mitford would wait, and at last give him up, start back on some other course, and probably perish. It was one or other of them. The colt would not carry him more than half-way back to camp; then he must walk, and the sun would soon make an end of him. All through the dark hours of semi-delirium the voices from the surrounding solitude kept up the refrain, "Why go back.?" » headache-he] headache, for he Syd ^ evaporating] disappearing Syd ' horse;] horse, for Syd 136 TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS "His friend had dragged him out of the sun into the only shade there was on that bare plain. " Illustration by Frank P. Mahony, Bulletin, 17 December 1892. THAT OTHER FELLOW 1 37 On the fifth day after Mclntyre's departure Mitford started on Duncan's tracks with a pack-horse laden with water, hoping to encoun- ter him. The pool was 'failing rapidly and in a few days would be dry. Fifteen miles from camp he thought he saw a figure moving towards him. It could only be Mclntyre, for in that solitude there was no living soul but themselves. He hastily ''dismounted, and, water-bag in hand, hurried to meet him. Duncan did not know him; he was blindly, instinctively following his tracks back to the camp, and it was not until Mitford had poured the water over his head and breast and down his baked throat that his bloodshot eyes lost some of their wildness. His friend had dragged him out of the sun into the only shade there was on that bare plain- underneath the belly of the pack-horse. Here he lay a while with his eyes ""half-closed. At last he began to speak coherently. "I've got back, old man. Follow my tracks out and you will get to the water, but be quick, for it's drying up fast. Poor old Challenger! I shot him-it was all I could do for him; he never gave in until he was dying." His head fell back on his friend's knee, and he was silent for a time. "I must go on," he muttered presently. "Blast that sun! it has done for me; but I will get back"-and he struggled to rise. Mitford kept him down, and he sank into unconsciousness once more. An hour passed during which Mitford kept pouring water over the burning head; then Duncan opened his eyes and his friend saw that his senses had returned. "Mitford, old man, I tell you that you must go back to camp and start at once, or it will be "too late. The water is so shallow it will dry up in a day or two. Poor old Challenger, you'll see his body as you go; but start now and you'll get home safe. That other fellow is going another road. Good-bye." "And soon that other fellow was gone."* Dramingo.'s ' failing] falling Syd ' dismounted,] ~ Syd ' underneath] beneath Syd " half-closed] half closed Syd " too late] too late, too late Syd late, too late El ° And.. .gone.] Om. EI HK trouble was first caused by the Malin- gers, and, needless to say, it was a case of chcrchez la femmc. One of the youth* Title drawing, Bulletin, 17 December 1892. (The drawing is appropriate to 'Bunthorp's Decease' - cf. p. 108/ The Mystery of Baines' 'Dog. The trouble was first caused by the ''Malingers, and, needless to say, it was a case oicherchez lafemme.' One of the youthful members of that tribe had forcibly abducted a maiden of the clan of Layovah, and red war ensued. The worst of it was that they selected as ""convincing-ground a spot close to a much-frequented cattle-camp, on the boundary of two large runs where the herds met. This greatly extended the circle of commotion. The noise and tumult of battle, "the thunder of the captains and their shouting,"^ coupled with the shrill yells of the gins, were enough to unsettle the temper of any well-regulated beast, and at the end of the ''engagement the casualties were-one blackfeUow seriously injured by falling over a stump during the heat of combat, two slightly scratched, and one gin very hoarse through screeching. The cattle scattered to the four winds. Most of the Seldon Downs beasts fled on to Inverlochy, and most of the Inverlochy ones to Seldon Downs-all vowing in their bovine hearts never again to set foot on that camp. So two stations, whereon the owners had dwelt for years in peace and amity, fell out on account of an obscure aboriginal quarrel. Jack Bell, of Seldon Downs, said it was the fault of Tom De vine, who should have kept his niggers in better order; and Devine said that Bell knew as much about managing blacks as he did about squaring the circle. The cattle were soon mustered and put 'tight, but the remarks were repeated and remembered. The two erstwhile friends were in this embittered state when Baines, the hawker, was murdered at the old boundary hut. Then the smoul- dering feud broke out. Devine maintained that it was evident the man 'was killed by the natives on Bell's station; and Bell held ^it as his •"conviction that the unfortunate fellow met his death at the hands of Copy-text: Bulletin. Apparatus; Sydsind Ei (see pp. 3-5 for details). * Dog./ The] DOG./ Prologue./ The Syd ° *■ Malingers] Malingerites Syd ' convincing-ground] convincing ground Syd ' engagement] ~, Syd ° ' right,] ~; Syd ' was] had been Syd « it] O/n. Syd " conviction] salvation Syd 139 1 40 TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS whites, probably some men lately discharged from Devine's. So the matter stood when our story opens, and the ends of justice were fmally defeated because the 'Malingers quarrelled with the Layovahs. It is as well to trace things back to their first cause. I. Dick Baines, the hawker, had been murdered; of that there was no manner of doubt. He had camped at the boundary-hut, an old, deserted sheep-station, and a traveller passing the next day found him lying alongside his dray with his head cut open. His own axe, with a blood-stained blade, lay beside the body. Evidently he could not have done it himself. On that point everyone agreed. His horses were safe, and his goods apparently untouched, and herein lay the mystery of the crime. He had only just started on his round with a full load, and what little money he had taken was found on his body. There seemed no motive for a white man to commit the deed, and if any of the blacks had done it, why had they not sacked the dray.' It was an enigma worthy of a first-class detective-story. Mean- time, during its elucidation, there was nothing to do but hold an inquest over what was once Baines, bury it, and let the law do the rest. The deceased had been some time in the district, and was noted for his reserved manner. He always travelled and camped alone, and seldom drank. He was not extremely popular, and most people sus- pected that he had "a past." One singular feature of the tragedy was that his dog, a smart little fox-terrier, had disappeared. The matter had almost run the orthodox nine days, when interest in it was suddenly revived by the arrest of a man in the small township of Boolah, a short distance from the scene of the murder, who was formally charged with the crime. He had Baines' dog with him. McFarlane, the man accused, was well known in the district and bore an excellent character. He had been working at Devine's on a fencing contract and had been paid off and left the morning before the hawker was killed. Had started for Seldon Downs, the road to which led past the boundary-hut. Thence he had gone round by two other stations to Boolah. He stated that he found the dog astray in the township, recognised it as the missing animal, called it by name, and the dog followed him. He was about to inform the police when he was arrested ' Malingers] Malingerites Syd THE MYSTERY OF BAINES' DOG 141 by tile sergeant. Scarcely had the surprise occasioned by this been well digested, before a more astonishing 'fact turned up. Baines' dog was also found in a blacks' camp on Seldon Downs. One of the men riding by the camp noticed a gin scuttling away with something in her arms that yelped and struggled. Rounding her up, he found she was vainly trying to conceal Baines' well-known and appar- ently ubiquitous dog. Further search revealed nothing more, and the gin made the astounding assertion that the dog had been ''given her by a white woman. Beyond that no intelligible information could be elicited from her. The blacks were well watched and the dog taken down to Boolah, where McFarlane was to appear before the magis- trates' court. It now transpired that there were two dogs marked exactly the same, identical in size and appearance, and both answering to the name of "Rattler." But the question was, which of the pair was Baines' dog? Never since the judgment of Solomon^ had law-court a more knotty problem. The animals on being introduced promptly fell on each other tooth and claw, and were with difficulty separated. Bell and Devine, bothj.'s ?.,•• were sitting on thebench with the police-magistrate. They differed in opinion. Bell declared that the dog found with McFarlane was the dead hawker's; Devine was equally confident that the dog found on Seldon Downs was the one wanted. After much heated discussion Bell left the bench and desired to give evidence. He stated that the last time he saw Baines, the hawker showed him a trick he had been teaching his dog. It was an old and well-known performance. The dog sat up on his hind legs with a piece of meat or biscuit balanced on the tip of his nose; at the words "ready, present, fire. I" he tossed it up, caught and swallowed it, and dropped on all-fours again. Bell selected the dog he thought was the hawker's, and put him through the performance amidst the hushed attention of a crowded court-room. It was a complete 'success, and he looked up with an air of triumph. "Yes. That's the dog found on Seldon Downs," said Devine from the bench. "Nothing of the sort," returned Bell hotly, forgetting his position as witness. "It's the dog found with McFarlane." Devine was indignantly replying, when the P.M. interfered and ' fact] one Syd ' given] given to Syd ' success,] ~ Syd 142 TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS asked the sergeant which dog it was. The sergeant looked at the dogs, then at the two policemen, and they looked blankly back at the sergeant. Then the truth burst upon everybody with such suddenness that a roar of laughter convulsed the court. The two dogs had got so irretrievably ""mixed in the fight that now no one could tell one from the other. When order was restored (Bell and Devine had nearly come to blows) the P.M. decided to remand the case for a week. Bail was allowed McFarlane, which Devine readily found. One of the dogs, the one which could perform the trick, was ordered to have a collar put on for distinction, and both were given in charge of the lock-up keeper. The enquiry had simply complicated matters. Baines' dog was identified, but nobody could say for certain at which place it had been found. Bell and Devine were, of course, equally positive, but that was mere party feeUng. Most people believed in McFarlane's innocence, but Bell vowed that he would bring the murder home to him. "Can you recall anything suspicious the night you passed Baines?" said Devine to McFarlane, as they went out after signing the "bail-bonds. "No, sir. He had hobbled his horses out and was lighting a fire. I got off, lit my pipe, and stopped yarning for about twenty minutes. Then I went on to Seldon Downs." "And from there.?" "I came to Boolah by Thirglemere and Bingledoon. I had been here about two hours when I recognised the dog, and directly after I had coaxed him to follow "me, I was arrested." "From the boundary-hut, going round by Seldon Downs, Thirglemere, and Bingledoon, you made it about eighty miles to here and took your time.''" "I stopped two days at Thirglemere and two at Bingledoon. I was a week coming here altogether." "But anyone could ride from the boundary-hut straight in to here in about thirty-five miles." "Yes, by the old track, but you have fenced that across now." "The wires could be easily strapped dovm, or Pcut, for that matter. Let's see, I don't suppose it's been used for years, and there has been no rain since Baines was killed. I'm going to run the old track." ■" mixed] mixed up Syd " bail-bonds] bail bonds Syd " me,] ~ Syd ' cut,] ~ Syd THE MYSTERY OF BAINES' DOG 143 "Will they let me go with you?" "I'll fix that," said Devine-and the next morning the two departed for the old track to the boundary-hut. During their absence, however, Bell was not idle. He returned to the station, and, after much ado, he had the old gin, from whom the dog had been taken, brought into Boolah. As they arrived Devine and McFarlane rode in, returning from their trip to the old hut. On being shown the two dogs, the gin immediately claimed the one without the collar as being her property. This was satisfactory, to "iBell at any rate, but at this moment Devine came upon the scene. Disdain- ing to do more than civilly sneer at the test just gone through, he drew the sergeant on one side and held a short conference with him. The sergeant disappeared with the two dogs; the others waited, Bell scorn- fully impatient. Presently the two dogs reappeared. On being told to pick out her dog, the gin at 'once selected the collarless one. "That's the other one this time, is it not. Sergeant?" said Devine. "Yes, *sir; I shifted the collar just now." "It's not fair!" broke in Bell. "The poor devil's frightened out of her wits; she picked right the first time, but you've bothered her;" and he marched out of the yard in deep disgust. When Devine and McFarlane left the township they did not trouble to look for tracks until they were well clear of all the stray animals. When about ten miles away the old bridle-path was quite plain. Both men rode on in silence, scanning the ground carefully; at times, with a low whistle, one would call the other's attention to something he saw. Just as they got within sight of the fence, they pulled up. "It's plain enough, McFarlane," said 'Devine, "a horse has been ridden along here about the time of the murder." McFarlane nodded. "We shall make sure at the fence," he answered, and they rode on. It was a wire fence, and where it crossed the track the wires were taut and evidently untampered with. The two turned and rode along the fence in opposite directions. A shout from McFarlane brought Devine back to him. He had come to a panel that bore marks of rough usage, from the way the upper wires sagged. "The top wires have been strapped down and then brushed across," said the fencer, pointing to the withered boughs lying about. "And the horse did not fancy tackling it," added Devine; "look how ' Bell] ~, Syd ' once] once again Syd ' sir;] ~, Syd ' Devine,] ~; Syd 144 TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS "He drew the sergeant on one side and held a short conference with him. Illustration by Percy F. S. Spence, Bulletin, 17 December 1892 THE MYSTERY OF BAINES' DOG 145 he has been hanging back." Inside the fence the ground was much more bare and dusty, and the tracks of a horse's stamping hoofs deeply indented were plainly visible. "Whew!" said McFarlane, getting through the fence, "look here!" Devine followed him. On a particularly dry and dusty bit of ground was the plain imprint of a boot. There should have been nothing strange in this to make the men stare so intently at it; it was only what they might have expected to find. Placing his hand on McFarlane's shoulder to steady himself, Devine put his foot down close to the track without actually touching the ground. The difference in size was at once apparent. "Either a boy or a woman," said "McFarlane. "And the gin said a woman gave her the dog," returned the other. Carefully getting back so as not to deface the 'tracks, the two men mounted and rode a short distance down the fence to where they knew was a small gate. Making for the old bridle-path again, they followed it on towards the hut, McFarlane drawing Devine's attention to the track of a small dog now plainly visible on that of the horse. They stayed that night at the old sheep-station, but no further evidence rewarded their careful search, beyond the fact that some blacks had camped in the neighbourhood, apparently about the date of the murder. They returned to Boolah in time for Devine to be present at the dog-test, as already narrated. McFarlane met him as he was coming out. "It has just struck me to whom that second dog belongs," he said. "Whose is it?" "Mrs. Brown's; you know, at Boomerang Creek." "By Jove, you're right," said Devine. "It must have been stolen from there." Devine was doubtful whether to communicate the discovery of the suspicious track to the police or not. Against his better judgment he did so, thinking it his duty. They went out, accompanied by Bell, who volunteered his services, examined the track, and reported that it had been made some time since the hawker's death, and so had nothing to do with that occurrence. In this they were partly prompted by Bell, and partly by the fact that as they had searched for tracks, without success, at the time of the murder, it would never do for them to go back on themselves. Devine cursed himself for a fool, and that was all he "McFarUne. P"And]~. "~ Syd " tracks,] ~ Syd 146 TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS could do. When McFarlane's case came on again he was, of course, discharged. The evidence was altogether too slight, and several people came forward and testified to having seen the dog in Boolah before McFarlane's arrival. "I'll find out about that other dog," said Devine to himself II. Nearly forty miles from Boolah, on the way to the seaport, in the opposite direction to the "site of the tragedy, stood a wayside publichouse, on the bank of a large creek, crossed by the road. Mrs. Brown's, on Boomerang Creek, was noted east and west for its neat- ness, cleanliness and good accommodation. People travelling stretched a point to make the place for the night's stay. The coach-passengers who grumbled at the meagre fare of the other accommodation-houses were told to wait till they came to Mrs. Brown's. Brown, for there was a Mr. Brown, was devoted to out-door work, but Mrs. Brovra was the presiding genius of comfort indoors, and, therefore, the place was generally known as "Mrs. Brown's." When the Judge was on circuit, he always carefully fell ill for a day or two at Mrs. Brown's. Men from the hot western plains, who had lived for weary months upon pigweed and "salt-horse,"' rested at Mrs. Brown's with calm contentment. Freshest of vegetables, of butter, of eggs, and best of cooking, what could a man with a salt-junk-saturated liver want more.' As cheery as her well-kept table was the appearance of the hostess herself, a plump little woman, who perennially had a smile upon her pretty face, and a kindly greeting for everybody. She was devoted to her quiet, easy-going husband, who warmly reciprocated the feeling. A word from Mrs. Brown would steady the most drunken fellow, and when she was in the bar the language of all hands was painfully discreet. It was at this calm haven of rest that Tom Devine dismoimted one evening in his character of amateur detective. He was, of course, well known, and Mrs. Brown, as she flitted in and out of the room seeing after his comfort, kept up a Hvely flow of chatter. "I suppose you miss something, Mr. Devine.'" she said as she invited him to table. "Well, no! Everything seems as comfortable as usual, Mrs. Brown." "I've lost my dog since you were here last. You remember litde " site] scene Syd THE MYSTERY OF BAINES' DOG 147 Rattler?" "Of course. Why, that must be your Uttle terrier the police have in Boolah," said "Devine with infinite hypocrisy. Mrs. Brown nodded and smiled brightly. "Yes, I only heard of it the other day. I must send up and claim him." "How did you lose him.?" "I am not sure. He was stolen, I believe; but we had so many travellers staying here at the time that I don't know whom to suspect." "Any women amongst them.'" asked Devine, quickly. "Yes, one. I don't know who she was; she was going with her husband to some station out west." "Would you know her again if you saw her?" Mrs. Brown was positive that she would, and in her turn asked what made Mr. Devine so curious. "I will tell you," he said, after a pause. "You have heard all about the murder of Haines, the hawker? Well, one of the dogs was found in a blacks' camp, and the gin who had it asserts that it was given her by a white woman." Mrs. Brown looked down on the table upon which her hand rested. "I should be sorry to hear that she was mixed up in it, for she seemed to be a very nice person," she replied. "But if the gin has told the truth she must have stolen your dog." "That is true," she remarked. Devine was up at sunrise next morning, after restless dreams about a strange woman who went about stealing dogs and kilHng hawkers. He strolled out and commenced yarning with Brown, who, bucket in hand, was standing at the milking-yard waiting for the cows. "The missus has gone down the paddock for them this morning," he confided to Devine; "got up very early-she couldn't sleep at all last night." At this moment the first of the lowing herd made its appearance. Mrs. Brown was behind on foot, driving them up and leading her horse. One after the other they blundered over the rails that had been carelessly let down at one end only. Mrs. Brown followed, but the horse she was leading suddenly stopped and refused to step over the rails. "Confound that horse!" said Brown, "he wouldn't lift his legs over a pack-thread if he could help it." Devine did not answer. His thoughts were engrossed in a sudden flash of memory. The horse that obstinately hung back on being ' Devine] ~, Syd 148 TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS required to step over anything! The tracks at the wire fence! Brown went into the yard and commenced milking. Mrs. Brown having succeeded in getting her horse over the rails, went on to the stable, Devine walking by her side. "Mrs. Brown," he said, quietly. "/ know who killed Baines, the hawker." She started, stopped, and looked him for one moment in the eyes, read there that he knew the truth, and turned so deadly white that he was afraid she would faint. She recovered herself, however, and walked steadily on to the stable. Stopping at the door she glanced around to see if anybody was within hearing, then said firmly: "Had I better tell you everything, or go and give myself up to the police.''" "Perhaps you had better tell me," he replied, after a pause. "Very well. I will, presently." Mrs. Brown went about her work that morning apparently unmoved by any unusual emotion. It was not until nearly noon that she found time and opportunity to see Devine. Her story, which, for the most ''part, is unfortunately a common one, need not be given in full. She was an ^orphan, brought up on a farm by some distant and not over-kind relatives. When only an ignorant girl of eighteen, Baines, who then travelled that district, persuaded her to elope with him under a promise of marriage that he never kept. For two years she lived with him as his wife, until, tired of ill-usage and broken vows, she ran away and took service as a barmaid in a country town, where her husband met and married her. Fate, unfortunately, brought them to settle close to the district where Baines was now plying his trade. The township of Boolah, however, was his hmit, and he had never been to their house until about a week before his death. Then, on recognising his former victim, he revenge- fully threatened to expose her past life to her husband. "He was one of those evil-minded men," she went on, "who must have something to torture. It was only out of sheer love of cruelty that he threatened me, because he saw I was happy with Brown. He vowed that when he came back from his trip he would do it, and showed me some old letters and photographs of mine which would prove his words. You can fancy my feelings when he left me with this hanging over my head. My home to be broken up, and my husband turned against me! At times I was tempted to confess it all to my husband, but '' part,] ~ Syi " orphan,] ~ Syd THE MYSTERY OF B AINES' DOG 1 49 then I should have to admit that I only did it under fear of exposure. I made up my mind that if I could succeed in getting the letters and things from Baines, I would dare him to do his worst, and some days after he left, I started under the pretence of paying a visit to a friend in Boolah, with a mad idea of somehow stealing the letters. "I overtook him at the old hut, and intended to wait in the scrub until he was asleep, but my little dog, which had followed me, betrayed me when he caught sight of the other one. They were twin puppies, and were called 'Rattler the First' and 'Rattler the Second,' and when I ran away from that wretch, I took one with me. I had nothing for it but to come forward when he recognised the dog. "You may guess what brutal taunts he used towards me, and when, in despair of getting what I wanted, I was going away, he tried to stop me by force. His axe was leaning against the wheel, and I picked it up and dared him to touch me. He laughed, and the next moment I struck him down. I scarcely knew I had done it until I saw him lying there." She stopped, and, after a pause, went on. "My first thought, of course, was to get away; then I remembered my letters. The deed was done, I might as well get what I came for. I soon found the letters and things, and left the spot." "And what about the dogs.?" "They both followed me. About a mile from the hut some blacks were camped. One gin was squatting at the fire, and I called her ^over and gave her what I thought was Baines' dog, thinking it would get away from them and go back to the dray in the morning. It was dark, and in my flurry I made a mistake and gave her mine. When daylight came I found it out, but I could not drive the dog away, and it followed me home, for it remembered me. After hanging about, however, for a few days it disappeared, and, I suppose, made back to Boolah, where it was found. Everybody, of course, took it for my dog while it was ''there." "How did you come to know of the old track?" "I did not know of it. I came on it by chance in the dark, and my horse followed it. As it was leading in the right direction I kept on until I came to the country I knew near Boolah." "And had some difficulty in getting your horse over the fence?" said Devine. "Did it not strike you that giving the dog to the blacks would throw suspicion on them? I hope it was not done with that motive." " over] ~, Ei " there] here Syd 1 50 TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS "It was not," she said, eagerly; "I made sure that the dog would get away, and I scarcely gave myself time to think. Afterwards, when it was too late, what you say occurred to me. Now I have told you everything. What I did was done almost in self-defence, and it was only what a father or "a. brother would have done for me had I had one." She ceased and Devine was silent for a while. At last he spoke. "Nobody has any suspicion of this but I. McFarlane saw the tracks, but I can easily put him off. The best thing to do is for Brown to ride back with me to Boolah and get your dog. For my part I shall hold my tongue and advise you to do the same." Now, if the ''Malingers had not quarrelled with the Layovahs, Devine and Bell would not have taken opposite sides in the affair. Devine would not have constituted himself an amateur detective, and the matter would have been left to the proper authorities, who might, possibly, have blundered on to the "right culprit. As it is, the death of Baines, the hawker, has remained a mystery to all save one woman and one man. Delcomyn. ' a] Om. Ei ^ Malingers] Malingerites Syd ' right] real Syd A Lucky Meeting. "What do you make of it, Jim?" "Looks remarkably like an E, but what can be the meaning of the extraordinary triangular thing that follows?" "That's the puzzle. The first mark one could swear had been made by a white man; but the other is apparently one of those queer carvings which the blacks make. There, however, is the scar plain enough, where the bark was stripped, and from the shape of the piece removed I think it's like a white man's work." "Moreover," added Jim, "it has been done with a steel tomahawk." The two men were standing in front of a dead coolibah tree of some size, on which the marks they were trying to decipher had been deeply cut. ■ It was the shore of a broad, shallow lake surrounded by a forest of similar dead trees-white skeletons, Ufting heavenwards their writhing, bare limbs. A stranger, set down there suddenly, would say that the axe of the ring-barker had been at work, but the locality was away in the far interior, where the white man had only just intruded on the solitude. Round the lake, which at its deepest only averaged a few feet, was a border of green, luscious grass; back from that ring of verdure reigned desolation and sterihty. Loose, puffy soil, broken into mounds and hollows, seamed with gaping cracks. On these dusty mounds were heaped thousands of tiny shells; in the hollows drooped a few withered stalks of nardoo.^ On all sides the gaunt, lifeless trees. Two exceptionally wet years had, in some remote time, deluged the plain, and the long-standing, stagnant water destroyed the timber. This state of things is not uncommon in many parts of the North Australian interior. In the deepest hollows of these dry lake-beds lie the bones offish, which have escaped their feathered enemies, to perish slowly as their native element evaporated. On the broader expanse, bleached skeletons are mouldering; the grotesque-headed pelican and the dingo, with a wild-dog snarl on his fleshless jaws. Bird and beast have made for the lake after long, long flight and hot, dusty tramp, only to find there drought, disappointment and death. To the north-west, The copy-text is Syd. Ei has no variant wordings, and there was no Bulletin printing. 151 1 52 TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS where a bank has been formed by the action of the steady south-east monsoon, layer after layer of dead shells has been deposited by the constantly-lapping wavelets, weak forms of life that have lived and died in the waters of the ephemeral lake. Beyond and around these depres- sions wherein the overflow of a rarely heavy rainfall accumulates, are the great plains whose treeless edges meet the sky in an unbroken straight line. Where the tall columns of dust revolve in a wild waltz; where, in summer-time, the air is so aglow with heat that it throbs like a living thing, and in this fierce atmosphere is born the treacherous mirage: a bush becomes a tree, a stone a rock, and the hard, baked clay-pan a blue lakelet. This is ri verless Australia, the sun-god's realm, the region of short-lived creeks, lost for ever in these dead, dry lake-beds. The elder of the brothers who had been regarding the tree copied the inscription in his note-book, and the two strolled back to their camp where a black-boy was watching the boiling of a piece of dried beef. They sat down and commenced smoking. "How long do you suppose these trees have been dead.'" said Sam Gilmore, the elder of the two. "Impossible to say, for certain, but about ten or fifteen years." "Yes," returned Sam, after some silent puffs, "that would be about it. There was a devil of a wet season all over the north in '72 and '73. That mark was made before then, when the tree was alive." "Certainly it was, and if you remember the Herbert was settled in the sixties. Some fellow from the tableland has been out here, that's about all it is." Sam looked at his note-book. "I've got it!" he exclaimed. " 'E. triangle.' It's a station-brand . Many fellows have a trick of cutting their brand on a tree instead of their initials." "That will be it," replied his brother, "there were no registered brands, all of one pattern, in those days."^ The two thought little more about the matter, but were busily employed the next two days in examining the surrounding country, it being part of a large block they had taken up in the Northern Territory. One evening the black-boy, who had been left in camp to look after the spare horses and see that they did not get bogged, remarked with the laconic suddenness of the aboriginals: "Old man horse sit down," indicating by a motion of his hand the far side of the lake. "Which one horse.?" said Sam, thinking he meant that one of their own had got bogged. A LUCKY MEETING 1 53 "Baal'' mine know. Long time that fellow sit down. Old man bone." "A skeleton of a horse?" queried Jim looking at his brother. Sam nodded. "We will have a look at it to-morrow-too late to go all round there this evening." Next morning, guided by the black-boy, they were soon beside the bones of the animal, which lay in a patch of grass, almost concealed from view. Evidently the moist border of the lake had saved them from destruction by the bush fires that annually swept the surrounding country. "A horse, but how the deceased came here, there is no evidence to show," said Jim. The black-boy was poking about with a stick. "That fellow bin carry saddle," and from the mouldering rubbish he dragged out the corroded iron-work. Inspired by this discovery a closer search was made. The plated buckles of a saddle-pouch were found, a plated sandwich-case, such as hunting-men carry in England, and the blade of a large pocket-knife. Everything in the shape of leather had long vanished. They devoted all the morning to examining the vicinity, but no further relics were forthcoming, and, taking what they had found with them, the brothers returned to camp. During the afternoon Sam set to work cleaning the old sandwich-case. By dint of hard rubbing he succeeded in restoring it to something like cleanliness, and although time and exposure had dealt hardly with the metal, a monogram became faintly visible on one side, and on the other was roughly scratched the mark they had found on the tree, "E and a triangle." "Now," said Jim, after the examination, "let's have a look at the inside." He inserted the point of his knife beneath the half-cover and, after some trouble, raised it. Inside were some papers, loose sheets, torn from a note-book, on which the pencil-writing was faint and illegible; but there was a larger sheet of blue letter-paper, on which the writing was in ink and, although slightly yellow, plain and distinct. The battered old case had been true to its trust and, despite all, had preserved the message confided to it. The brothers perused their strange find and, at the conclusion, looked at each other in silence for a few moments. "This is a strange document to drop across in such a howling wilderness," said Sam at length. Jim whisded in sympathy. "I suppose," he remarked, "the writer 1 54 TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS came to grief, and his horse made back to the water, got bogged and died. Is that how you read it?" "I think so. At any rate, it's too long ago for us to bother looking up tracks. The date on this-December 4th, 1870-coincides with the time we surmised." "I suppose you'll keep it?" queried Jim. "Most carefully. It belongs to the man's children, and may be valuable, or, perhaps, only waste paper. Possibly we shall find out when we get back to civihzation; meanwhile I vote we make a start for home to-morrow. We are satisfied, I suppose, that this country is good enough." "All right," said the younger; and for the rest of the day they devoted themselves to preparations for an early departure on the morrow, dismissing the subject of their strange discovery from their minds. II. Young Simpson propped himself up against the slabs and gazed disconsolately down the sunny road. He was suffering a bad recovery, his pockets were empty, and his credit exhausted. He had lately finished a job of horse-breaking, and had knocked his cheque down in orthodox style. Now, Ufe was all dust and ashes, and everything a mockery and a delusion. He was only thirty-six, and had already managed to break every breakable bone in his body, and pull through several bad attacks of delirium tremens. He was the son of a well-to-do squatter, but ere he was twenty had managed to incense his father so bitterly that he had been cast forth without even the proverbial shilling, and a younger brother, a good and well-behaved youth, reigned in his stead. Since his expulsion from home he had steadily gone to the dogs, and it was a pity, for, however weak, he was a good-hearted young fellow. A strong, helping hand would have saved him, but he never got it, and now it was too late. At least so everybody thought and said. Simpson had been dozing on a rude bench in the verandah, and had just got on to his feet, under the impression that somebody had ridden up and aroused him. Presumably this impression was correct, for a horse was hitched up to the rail outside, and voices could be heard in the bar. Possibly there was a drink on hand. He Ucked his dry lips with a still dryer tongue, and lurched inside. A deeply sun-tanned man, with bright eyes, was talking to the landlord. A LUCKY MEETING 155 "Here, Joe," said the latter to Simpson, "come and have a wet, you look sleepy." This was most astonishing; only that morning his credit had been peremptorily stopped, and now he was invited to refresh himself. The landlord shifted down the bar a bit and Simpson followed him. "This gent," said the pubhcan in a subdued tone, "has got a mob of cattle going north, and wants another hand badly. I'll put in a good word for you, and, perhaps, he'll be right for a bit of an advance, so that you can square up with me before you go." Simpson "dropped" to the situation at once. He immediately poured out a drink so "long" that it made the landlord eager to clutch the bottle again. Refreshed by this, he accosted the stranger, and with few words a bargain was struck, and Joe Simpson went off to roll up his scanty belongings in his blanket. "As good a man as ever crossed a horse," said the effusive publican; "only keep him off the booze. Born a gentleman, too." Jim Gilmore, for it was he, on his way out with cattle to stock the country he and his brother had lately examined, looked curiously after the retreating form. He was warm-hearted, and something in the ne'er-do-well had appealed to him. The long trip drew to an end, and tired men, leg-weary horses, and listless cattle all desired the arrival of that morning when they should mutually take leave of each other. Dry stages had been successfully crossed, wet, blustering nights experienced, and death in many forms had taken toll of the herd before Jim, with a sigh of relief, dismounted on the bank of a long serpentine lagoon, some twenty miles from the shallow lake where they had formerly camped. Leaning on his horse he watched the long string of cattle troop in to the water. "Poor Joe!" he thought, as he caught sight of Simpson steadying the leaders, "he's got a bad touch of this northern fever. Glad we are here so that he can get a spell." The blatant publican's recommendation had turned out true. A better man than Joe Simpson had proved himself could scarce be found. Ever ready when the weather was bad and the cattle rowdy on camp; always alert during the long sleepless nights across the dry plains, and alas! never neglecting the opportunity of a short spree in the few townships they had passed, Joe had been young Gilmore's right hand throughout the tedious journey. Now, the malarial fever that the 1 56 TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS cattle seem to turn up with their hoofs from the virgin soil in new country had recognised his ill-used constitution and seized on him. The day after the herd was turned out Joe lay delirious under a bough shade. Jim devoted all his spare time to him, and at last had the satisfaction of witnessing his return to reason. But Simpson was very weak-he had played too many tricks with his physique to be able to stand a severe attack of fever with impunity, and lay, almost apathetic as regarded his chances of final recovery. One morning Jim noticed that the patient had been idly tracing letters and signs on the dusty earth alongside his rude bed of dry grass. Amongst them he recognised with a start the E followed by a triangle. "What are you up to, Joe.?" he said, quietly. "Just trying to remember a lot of brands," returned Simpson, in his weak voice. "Whose brand is that.?" asked Gilmore, indicating the one he was interested in. Simpson's wasted face flushed hotly. "When a fellow gets down in the world," he said, after a pause, "he does not always stick to his right name. That brand was our old station brand on my father's place. There were three partners at first, Emerson, Unthorpe, and Charters, and, as their initials made the first syllable of Euclid, they took the triangle as a brand with my father's initial before it. Finally he bought them out, and my brother has the place now." "Then," said Jim, staring hard at him, "your name is — .'" "Emerson." "Good God!" "What is the matter.' What do you know about me.?" cried the invahd, anxiously. "Nothing, nothing, go on. Tell me, where did your father die.? How is it you were left so badly off?" Joe Emerson looked at his questioner with some surprise, but answered quietly enough. "My father died in his bed on Bellbrook station, where I was born. He and I had quarrelled some years before and finally he disowned me. I was a bad lot, there's no denying." "Was your father ever up this way.?" "Yes. He had a share in a station in the north of Queensland, and took a trip out west, I know. In fact, it was through some terrible'hardship he endured that he afterwards died. He was too old to stand it. I never heard the rights of it, but I believe through some stupid blunder of one A LUCKY MEETING 1 57 of the men some of their horses got away from them on a dry stage with packs and saddles on. My father and the others managed to get into water, but the horses made back and probably perished." "Your brother then took your place in your father's will, and you were left out in the cold. Do you know the date of that will?" "It was the time of our final row, in the beginning of '69." Jim strode outside and thought for a moment, then he returned. "This is the strangest thing I ever came across outside of a novel. I have good news for you. Your father must have been in a tight place before the horses were lost, and when he anticipated death he repented of his harshness to you, and wrote out another will. It commences: 'I, George Henry Emerson, now expecting death, and being desirous of making amends to my dear son Joseph for my stern conduct.' I do not remember any more, but it was duly witnessed by Isaac Wright and Thomas Peberdy. Do you know an3fthing about them?" Young Emerson was looking at Jim as though bewildered by what he had heard, and answered slowly. "Peberdy was an old servant of my father's, and went north with him; he has a selection now, down south. Wright I don't know. But surely you remember the purport of this wiU?" "Certainly. It left the whole of his property to you, subject to certain charges on it for yoiu- brother and sister." "But-but, Mr. Gilmore!" cried the sick man, impatiently, "how did you find it? Who has it now?" "My brother has it now. We found it with the remains of your father's horse, preserved in an old-fashioned sandwich case. Do you remember it?" "Yes, with his monogram on it; he brought it from England." "If the two witnesses are alive, it seems to me that the will cannot be disputed. My brother may be here at any time; he knows when we are due, and is bringing up supplies from Burketown, and will probably push ahead." There was silence for a short time; then Emerson reached out and felt for Gilmore's hand. He grasped it and sat upright. "Look here," he said, "I'm going to do three things." "Don't be in a hurry," murmured Jim. "I'm going to get well." "Hear, hear!" "I'm going to knock off Uquor." "Hear, hear, hear!" from Gilmore. 158 TALES OF THE AUSTRAL TROPICS "And I'm going to get the skeleton of that old horse set up and mounted on a pedestal." "When the will is proved, I presume," said his companion. No need to tell much more. One witness was alive and able to swear to the signatures. Joe kept to his three resolutions. The skeleton of the old horse adorns the hall of Bellbrook station, and Jim Gilmore's wife was once Miss Emerson. Appendixes APPENDIX 1 Rolf Boldrewood's Preface Supplementary Note on the Text Rolf Boldrewood's Preface as first printed in Syd follows. When the Preface was republished in Ei the place and date of writing were omitted, probably because the publisher considered them to be of little concern to English readers. For the symbols Syd and Ei, see p. 3. 160 APPENDIX 1 i6i PREFACE. In these "Tales of the Austral Tropics" will be found the strange romances which write themselves, often in letters of blood, amid the half-unknown, mysterious regions of tropical Austraha. That they are not less true than terrible, I take it upon myself to affirm. That such is far from being the case with the larger proportion of literary manufacture professing to describe Australian life and character, I most distinctly assert. "Those who know seldom write, and those who write don't know," remarks the veteran colonist with accentuated emphasis. But this author's name is a household word among bushmen and bookmen from Albany to Thursday Island, from "The Gulf to the Snowy River — "Alike to him the sea, the shore. The pen, the bridle and the oar.'" To him, familiar as highways are the endless solitudes of the "Never Never Country" — he has tempted the Desert Sphinx, gazed upon gold matrix and opal hoards which gleamed in mockery of the ex- hausted wanderer. Trusted for dear life in forest glades to a steady eye and a true rifle. Listened in a canoe on the Coral Sea to the moaning of the approaching tempest. Long a leading actor upon Dame Nature's stage, he has turned scene-painter for the nonce,^ and limned with lifelike effect the drama of the Waste. "Rolf Boldrewood."' Albury, N.S. Wales, Nov. 10, 1892. APPENDIX 2 A Bibliography of Favenc's Writings This is a list of Favenc's published and unpubKshed writings and associated materials: A: Books B: Contributions to Newspapers and Magazines C: Reports and Brief Geographical Studies D: Manuscripts and Typescripts E: Reviews of Favenc's Work F: Materials for Favenc's Biography The entries are listed in each section in chronological order. A: BOOKS Poetry Voices of the Desert. With Illustrations by Percy F. S. Spence. London: Elliot Stock, 1905. Novels The Secret of the Australian Desert. Illustrated by Percy F. S. Spence. London, Dublin and Melbourne: Blackie & Sons, 1895. Second Edition, London: Blackie & Sons, 1910. Swedish version, R. Melander, trans. Odemarkens hemlighet: dventyr unden en upptdcktsfird i Australien. Fritzes Scout Bibliotek, 14. Stockholm: C. E. Fritz, 1918. See 'The Burning Mountain of the Interior' (1890) in Section B, below. Marooned on Australia. The Narrative by Diedrich Buys of His Discov- eries and Exploits in Terra Australia Incognita about the Year 16 jo. Illustrated by Percy F. S. Spence. London: Blackie & Sons, 1896 and 1897. Second Edition, London: Blackie & Sons, 1905. Swedish version, R. Melander, trans. I kung Zolcas land. Fritzes Scout Bibliotek, 27. Stockholm: C. E. Fritz, 1926. The Moccasins of Silence. [Edited by 'Armand Jerome' - i.e. Favenc] Sydney and Melbourne: George Robertson, 1896. Short Stories The Last of Six: Tales of the Austral Tropics. Bulletin Series No. 3. Sydney: Bulletin Newspaper Company, 1893. 163 164 APPENDIX 2 Tales of the Austral Tropics. London: Osgood, Mcllvaine, 1894. My Only Murder and Other Tales. Sydney and Melbourne: George Robertson, 1899. Tales for Young Australia. [Co-authors: 'Mab' and 'James and Joseph Fotheringhame'.] Sydney: Empson and Son, n.d." Histories The Great Austral Plain, Its Past, Present and Future. Sydney: H. R. Woods, 1881. Western Australia, Its Past History, Its Present Trade and Resources, Its Future Position. Sydney: Turner and Henderson, 1887. The History of Australian Explorationfrom ij88 to 1888. Compiled from State Documents, Private Papers and the Most Authentic Sources of Information. Issued under the Auspices of the Governments of the Australian Colonies.^ Sydney: Turner and Henderson, 1888; Lon- don: Griffith, Farran, Okeden and Welsh, 1888. Facsimile re- prints, Amsterdam: Mendian, 1967; Gladesville, N.S.W.: Golden Press, 1983. The Explorers of Australia and Their Life Work.^ London, Melbourne, Dunedin, Christchurch, Wellington: Whitcombe and Tombs, 1908. Geographies 'The New Standard Geography of Australasia'. [In the single copy held by the Mitchell Library, a hand-written note comments: 'Only this copy bound. Proofs must be much revised'. Set in type: ('Sydney: George Robertson, 1898' appears at the beginning) but never published.] The Geographical Development of Australia . Brooks's Australian School Series. A Century of Progress. 1 788-1 888. Sydney and Brisbane: William Brooks, 1902. 1 Reviews printed in the Sydney Mail in December 1896 and November 1898 suggest that two issues of this magazine may have been published. See Section E, below. 2 Extracts from Favenc's History were printed in James Colwell, The Story of Australia, 6 vols (Sydney: S. F. Qarke, 1925), vol. 2, Exploring a Continent. There is a portrait of Favenc on p. 262. Further extracts appeared in an article by 'Bartle Frere': 'Gregory's Expedition (1855-56): Leichhardt's Route Reversed', North Queensland Register, 17 March 1945, p. 48. 3 Favenc's account of Sir Thomas Mitchell was reproduced in The Heather in the South. A Scottish Australian Entertainment, ed. Bill Wannan (Melbourne: Lansdowne, 1966), pp. 84-96. APPENDIX 2 1 6s The Physical Configuration of the Australian Continent. With Illustrative Maps and Diagrams. Sydney and Brisbane: William Brooks, 1905. Magazines and Other Editing The Story of Our Continent Told with Brush and Pen. Illustrated by Percy F. S. Spence. No. i . Sydney, Melbourne and London: R. A. Thomson, 1891. Australian Boys and Girls. An Illustrated Annual of Stories of Australian Writers. No. i. [Edited and with an Introduction by 'Armand Jerome'.] Sydney: Gordon and Gotch, 1895. Our Celebrities. An Art Annual of Australian Favourites. No. i. [Edited by 'Armand Jerome'.] Sydney: Gordon and Gotch, 1895. A Counterblast to Spookland, or Glimpses of the Marvellous. [Editor's Notes by 'Armand Jerome'.] Sydney: W. M. Maclardy [printers], 1895. B: CONTRIBUTIONS TO NEWSPAPERS AND MAGAZINES This is a list-in-progress of poems, serials, stories, and various short prose pieces. Most items listed were signed either with Favenc's name or with one of his pseudonyms: Binghi, Boocyea, D., Delcomyn, Dramingo, F., Jack Fruit, Armand Jerome, Ernest or E. Vethick.'' The grounds for attributing unsigned items to Favenc are explained in the notes. 'Leichhardt'. [poem] Queenslander, 11 November 1871, p. 6. 'An Unpublished Melody of Moore's', [poem] Queenslander, 11 No- vember i87i,p. 6. 'A Lay of Ravens wood', [poem] Queenslander, i6December 1871, p. 7. 'The Demon of Man', [poem] Queenslander, 30 December 1871, p. 6. 'An Episode', [poem] Queenslander, 3 February 1872, p. 6. 'Natural History of a Thousand Years Ago', [prose sketch] Queenslander, 3 February 1872, p. 6. 'The Noble Savage', [poem] Queenslander, 17 February 1872, p. 8. 'Morning and Evening Meditations', [poems] Queenslander, 20 April 1872, p. 6. 4 The following items, although signed 'D.', are unlikely to be Favenc's work on styUstic grounds: 'The Death Adder', Bulletin, 7 December 1882, p. 5; 'The Coffin Qub', Bulletin, 24 December 1887, p. 11; 'Mooney the Conspirator', Bulletin, 14 December 1893, p. 19. 1 66 APPENDIX 2 'A Loafer, on Human Nature', [prose sketch] Queenslander, 25 May 1872, p. 7. 'To the Morning Star', [poem] Queenslander, i June 1872, p. 8. 'Moore's Unpublished', [poem] Queenslander, 22 November 1873, p. 7. '1873-1874'. [poem] Queenslander, 27 December 1873, p. 7; repub- Hshed as 'New Year's Eve, 1905-1906', Sydney Morning Herald, i January 1906, p. 5. 'Thermuthis'. [poem] Queenslander, 14 March 1874, p. 6. 'The Gold King. A New Year's Tale', [story] Queenslander, 26 Decem- ber 1874, p. 8. 'My Story', [story] Queenslander, 6 February 1875, p. 7; 13 February, p. 8; 20 February, p. 7. 'A Romaunt'. [poem] Queenslander, 5 June 1875, p. 6. 'Jack Essingham; or the Graves of a Household. A Tale of Northern Queensland', [serial] Queenslander, 21 August 1875, p. 9; 28 Au- gust, pp. lo-ii; 4 September, p. 9; 11 September, pp. 9-1 1; 18 September, pp. 9-10; 2 October, p. 9; 9 October, pp. 9-10; i6th October, p. 9; 23 October, p. 10; 30 October, p. 9; 6 November, p. 10; 13 November, pp. 9-10; 20 November, p. 10; 27 November, p. 9; 4 December, p. 9; 11 December, p. 10; 18 December, pp. 9-10. 'The Lady Ermetta; or, the Sleeping Secret', [story] Queenslander, Christmas Supplement, 25 December, 1875, pp. 1-2. 'The Medium', [story] Queenslander, 12 February 1876, pp. 9-10. 'A Drover's Diary', [series of reports] Queenslander, 29 April 1876, p. 11; 13 May, pp. 13-14; 20 May, p. 13; 27 May, p. 23; 17 June, pp. 13-14; I July, p. 14; IS July, p. 14; 9 September, pp. 11-12. 'Sir Guy's Memories', [poem] Queenslander, 13 May 1876, p. 12. 'Night at Yamba Crossing', [poem] Queenslander, 20 May 1876, p. 13; repubhshed as 'Night at the Yamba Crossing, Fitzroy River', Voices of the Desert, pp. 44-5. 'A Romance of Kangaroo Point', [story, probably by Bessie Favenc] Queenslander, 15 July 1876, pp. 9-10; 12 August, pp. 9-10; 19 August, pp. 9-10. 'Dead in the Queensland Bush', [poem] Australasian Sketcher, 30 September 1876, p. 103 [illustration p. 109]; republished as 'Dead in the Bush', Voices of the Desert, pp. 46-7. 'Haunted', [poem] Australasian Sketcher, 17 March 1877, p. 202; republished. Voices of the Desert, pp. 28-30. APPENDIX 2 167 'An Explorer's Diary', [reports of the Queenslander expedition] Queenslander, 26 October 1878, p. 107; 2 November, pp. 138-9; 9 November, p. 171; 16 November, p. 212; 14 December, p. 339; 21 December, p. 366; 26 April 1879, p. 53i;3May,pp. 562-3; loMay, p. 588; 17 May, pp. 619-20; 24 May, p. 658; 31 May, pp. 683-4; 7 June, p. 716; i4June, p. 747; 28 June, p. 812; 5 July, p. 12; 12 July, PP- 43-4- 'By Coach to Blackall'. [prose sketch] Queenslander, 23 November 1878, pp. 237-8. 'In the Desert: Cresswell Creek, N. T. South Australia, November 25, 1878'. [poem] Queenslander, 3 May 1879, p. 553; republished. Voices of the Desert, pp. 1—2; A Book of Queensland Verse, ed. J. J. Stable and A. E. M. JGrkwood (Brisbane: Queensland Book Depot, 1924; reissued 1959), pp. 14-15; and Bards in the Wilderness. Australian Colonial Poetry to 1920, ed. Brian Elliott and Adrian Mitchell (Melbourne and Sydney: Thomas Nelson, 1970), pp. 134-5- ''Gloria Mundf. [poem] Queenslander, 14 June 1879, p. 745; repub- lished, Voices of the Desert, pp. 74-5. 'Lost in the Winning', [serial] Queenslander, 16 August 1879, pp. 201- 2; 23 August, pp. 233-4; 30 August, pp. 265-6; 6 September, pp. 297-8; 13 September, pp. 329-30; 20 September, pp. 361-2; 27 September, pp. 393-4; 4 October, pp. 425-6; 1 1 October, pp. 457- 8; 18 October, pp. 489-90; 25 October, pp. 521-2; i November, pp. 553-4; 15 November, pp. 617-18; 22 November, pp. 649-50; 29 November, p. 681; 6 December, pp. 713-14; 13 December, p. 745; 20 December, pp. 777-8; 3 January 1880, pp. 9-10; 10 January, pp. 41-2; 17 January, pp. 73-4. 'An Episode of Bush Life', [poem] Queenslander, i May 1880, p. 553; republished as 'A Bush Tragedy', Voices of the Desert, pp. 52-6. 'The Strange Adventure of George Vallance'. [story] Queenslander, 30 October 1880, p. 553; 6 November, pp. 585-6; republished as 'The Compact', Evening News, 15 December 1900, p. 7. 'Bound to the Mast' . [poem] Sydney Mail, 1 8 December i88o,p.ii5o; republished, Voices of the Desert, pp. 57-9. 'The Great Austral Plain: Its Past, Present and Future', [articles] Sydney Mail, i January 1881, p. 8; 8January, p. 52; i5january, p. 92; 29 January, p. 172; repubhshed, Australasian Sketcher, 15 January 1881, p. 23; 29 January, pp. 42-3; 5 February, pp. 55, 58. 'Death's Toast. Midnight, December 31, 1880'. [poem] Sydney Mail, i68 APPENDIX 2 8 January 1881, p. 45; republished as 'Death's Toast. Midnight, December 31', Voices of the Desert, pp. 65-7. 'The World's Victims', [poem] Sydney Mail, 5 February 1881, p. 205; repubhshed, Voices of the Desert, pp. 63-4. 'The Dead Hand', [story] Bulletin, 16 April 1881, p. 14. 'The Queensland Transcontinental Railway', [articles] Sydney Mail, 7 May 1881, p. 740; 21 May, p. 824; 28 May, p. 864. 'Old Tales of a New Country', [historical sketches] 'I. The Attack on Barrow Creek', Sydney Mail, 14 May 1881, p. 781 [illustrated by Favenc]; 'II. The Fate of the Prout Brothers', 2 July, p. 24. 'Dr. Hartwig's Idea of Australia', [review] Sydney Mail, 21 May 1881, p. 813. [Poem Inspired by Discovery of a Lost City by the Lorillard Exploring Party in Mexico, by 'The Meddler']. Sydney Mail, 21 May 1881, p. 817.= [Poem Welcoming Two Princes to Austraha, by 'The Meddler']. Sydney Mail, 4 June 1881, p. 193. [Anecdote about Alligators, by 'The Meddler']. Sydney Mail, 30 July i88i,p. 193. 'The Story of a Bottle: A Message from the Sea', [poem] Sydney Mail, 9 July 1881, p. 53; republished. Voices of the Desert, pp. 40-3. 'Lost', [poem] Sydney Mail, 13 August 1881, p. 277. 'Found', [poem] Sydney Mail, 20 August 1881, p. 317. 'The Hawker's Legacy', [poem, by 'The Meddler'] Sydney Mail, 20 August 1 88 1, p. 320. [Topical commentaries, by 'The Meddler']. Sydney Mail, 20 August i88i,p. 320. 'Grim Reality', [story] ij/^n^y Alaj/, 24 December i88i,pp. 1049-57. 'Dame Elinor Cobham, Duchess of Gloucester', [poem] Sydney Mail, II March 1882, p. 373. 'The Far Far North', [articles] Sydney Mail, 26 August 1882, pp. 340- i; 2 September, p. 377; 9 September, p. 417; 16 September, p. 460. 'White Versus Black', [articles] Sydney Mail, 30 September 1882, p. 544; 7 October, p. 625; 21 October, p. 696. 'The Romance ofa Morning Paper'. [■iTtic\es]Sydney Mail, iiNovem- ber 1882, p. 878; 2 December, p. 974. 5 Attribution to Favenc of items by 'The Meddler' is based on their location among the cuttings in Mitchell Library Q.980.1 F. APPENDIX 2 169 'Unexplored Australia', [article] Sydney Mail, 6 January 1883, pp. 14- 15- 'The Thirsty Land' . [articles] Sydney Mail, 24 November 1883, p. 976; I December, p. 1024. 'On the Back of an Envelope' . [story] Sydney Mail, 22 December 1 883 , p. 1165. 'Diary of a Trip from North Newcastle to Macarthur River'. Sydney Mail, 10 November 1883, p. 879 [illustration, p. 873]; 24 Novem- ber, pp. 969-70; I December, p. 1014; 8 December, p. 1072; 15 December, p. 11 13; 22 December, p. 1160. 'People I Have Met. I. The Baronet's Daughter' [prose sketch] Bulletin, 26 February 1887, p. 15. 'People I Have Met. II. The Old Hand', [prose sketch] Bulletin, 26 March 1887, p. 14. 'The Diminishing Australian Desert', [extracts from paper read in Sydney to a meeting of commercial and pastoral men] Australasian Sketcher, 9 August 1887, p. 119. 'People I Have Met. III. The Gentleman Sundowner'. Bulletin, 3 March 1888, p. 18. 'From Melbourne to the Gascoyne'. [articles] Argus, 29 September 1888, p. 11; 24 November, p. 6. 'Station Life in Western Australia', [article] Australasian, 6 October 1888, p. 747 [illustration, p. 749]. 'For Peace and Quiet', [story] Australasian, 16 November 1889, p. 1058. 'Long Jim's Appetite', [anecdote] Bulletin, 15 February 1890, p. 19. 'Tommy's Ghost', [story] Bulletin, 22 February 1890, p. 6; repub- lished. My Only Murder and Other Tales, pp. 55-63. 'A Bad End. In Three Downfalls', [story] Queensland Punch, 3 March 1890, pp. 11-12. 'Jerry Boake's Confession', [story] Bulletin, 8 March 1890, p. 13; repubUshed, My Only Murder and Other Tales, pp. 108-17. 'The Burning Mountain of the Interior', [serial, early version of The Secret ofthe Australian Desert] Queenslander, 15 March 1890, p. 497; 22 March, pp. 546-7; 29 March, pp. 593-4; S April, p. 642; 12 April, p. 689; 26 April, p. 786; 3 May, p. 833. 'The New Super at Oakley Downs', [story] Bulletin, 29 March 1890, p. 8; republished, My Only Murder and Other Tales, pp. 64-74. 'A Haunt of the Jinkarras'. [story] Bulletin, 5 April 1890, p. 8; repub- lished, The Last of Six, pp. 19-28; Tales ofthe Austral Tropics, pp. 170 APPENDIX 2 37-55- 'The Last of Six', [story] Bulletin, 19 April 1890, p. 8; republished, The Last of Six, pp. i-S; Australian Round-Up: Stories from ijgo-igso, ed. Colin Roderick (Sydney: Angus & Robertson, 1953), pp. 83-7. 'A Cup of Cold Water', [story] Bulletin, 10 May 1 890, p. 8; republished, The Last of Six, pp. 8-18; Tales of the Austral Tropics, pp. 1-22. 'Forgotten History', [story] Bulletin, 17 May 1890, p. 8. 'The Professor's Discovery. A Tale of Old Ravenswood'. [story] Bulletin, 24 May 1890, p. 20. 'The Rumford Plains Tragedy', [story] Bulletin, 7 June 1890, p. 8; repubhshed, TheLastofSix,pp. 29-34; Tales ofthe Austral Tropics, pp. 23-7; My Country: Australian Poetry and Short Stories: Two Hundred Years, ed. Leonie Kramer, Vol. i (Sydney, Auckland, London, New York: Lansdowne Press, 1985), pp. 324-7. 'The Lost Rivers. A Geographical Fantasy', [story] Australasian, 21 June 1890, pp. 1223-4. 'The Story ofthe Big Pearl'. Bulletin, 21 June 1890, p. 23; repubhshed as 'The Story of a Big Pearl', The Last of Six, pp. 1 18-21; Tales of the Austral Tropics, pp. 267-75. 'The Stolen Colours', [story] Bulletin, 13 September 1890, p. 10; repubhshed. Tales ofthe Austral Tropics, pp. 209-29. 'The Whereabouts of Leichhardt'. [article] Sydney Mail, 4 October 1890, p. 754. 'A Strange Remembrance', [story] Bulletin, 6 December 1890, p. 8. 'Spirit-Led', [story] Bulletin, 20 December 1890, p. 7; republished. The Last of Six, pp. 35-49; Tales of the Austral Tropics, pp. 65-93. 'Sandy Macpherson's Christmas Ride'. Bulletin, 20 December 1 890, p. 8; republished as 'The Cook and the Cattle-Stealer', The Last of Six, pp. 91-101; and as 'The Hut-Keeper and the Cattle-Stealer', Tales of the Austral Tropics, pp. 125-43. 'The Spell ofthe Mas-Hantoo'. Bulletin, 20 December 1890, pp. 12- 13; republished. The Last of Six, pp. 54-62. '1890-91'. [poem] Queensland Punch, i January 1891, p. 161. 'Bush Reveries: I. Day Dawn-The Past', [poem] Queensland Punch, 2 February 1891, p. 14. 'Bush Reveries: II. Noontide-The Present', [poem] Queensland Punch, 3 March 1891, p. 32. 'An Idyll ofthe Plains', [story] Bulletin, 7 March 1891, p. 22. 'Bush Reveries: III. Eve-The Future', [poem] Queensland Punch, i April 1 89 1, p. 42. APPENDIX 2 171 'The Evanishment of the Australian Desert', [article] Australasian, 25 April 1891, p. 807. 'The Secret of the Scrub', [story] Australasian, 16 May 1891, p. 955. 'The Ghost's Victory', [story] Bulletin, 19 December 1891, p. 14; republished, My Only Murder and Other Tales, pp. 145-60. 'The Australian Desert: A Dream of the Future', [poem] Bulletin, 19 December 1891, p. 23; republished as 'An Ideal of the Future', Voices of the Desert, pp. 20-2. 'Princess Jezebel in Charge', [story] Bulletin, 16 January 1892, p. 22. 'Malchook's Doom-A Story of the Nicholson River'. Bulletin, 23 January 1892, p. 21; republished. The Last of Six, pp. 84-91. 'A Narrow Squeak', [letter-anecdote] Bulletin, 30 January 1892, p. 17. 'An Aboriginal Othello. A Yarn from Spinifex Land', [story] Bulletin, 2 April 1892, p. 8. 'Not Retributive Justice. A Story of Spinifex Land' . [story] Bulletin, 2 April 1892, p. 22; republished. My Only Murder and Other Tales, pp. 211-17. 'Tranter's Shot', [story] Bulletin, 16 April 1892, p. 10; republished. The Last of Six, pp. 50-3; Tales of the Austral Tropics, pp. 57-64. 'Pompey'. [story] Bulletin, 16 April 1892, p. 24; republished. The Last of Six, pp. 81-3. 'The Red Lagoon', [story] Bulletin, 23 April 1892, p. 15. 'The Track of the Dead', [story] Bulletin, 23 April 1892, p. 17; republished. The Last of Six, pp. 63-6. 'Potted Man. A Tale of the Cannibal Islands', [story] Bulletin, 30 April 1892, p. 22. 'The Missing Super', [story] Bulletin, 7 May 1892, p. 19; republished, The Last of Six, pp. 122-6. 'The Eight-Mile Tragedy', [story] Bulletin, 14 May 1892, p. 22; republished. My Only Murder and Other Tales, pp. 192-200. 'In the Lap of Delilah', [story] Australasian, 11 February 1893, pp. 282-3. 'The Cause of the Trouble', [story] Bulletin, 21 May 1893, p. 9.' 'How the Reverend Joseph Simmondsen Lost His Character', [story] Bulletin, 21 May 1892, p. 22; republished as 'The Parson's Blackboy'in: The Last of Six, ^^. 102-7; Tales ofthe Austral Tropics, pp. 145-56; The Bulletin Storybook, ed. A. G. Stephens (Sydney: 6 This story is signed 'F.', which is not an attested signature of Favenc's. However, style and subject matter strongly support the attribution. 172 APPENDIX 2 Bulletin Newspaper Company, 1901), pp. 35-9 (itself republished as The Old Bulletin Reader, Melbourne: Lansdowne Press, 1973, pp. 40-4); Australian Short Stories, ed. George Mackaness (Lon- don and Toronto:J. M.Dent & Sons, 1928), pp. 121-$; Australian Short Stories, ed. Walter Murdoch and H. Drake-Brockman (Lon- don: Oxford UP, 1951), pp. 19-24; A Century of Australian Short Stories, ed. Cecil Hadgraft and Richard Wilson (London: Heinemann, 1963), pp. 34-7. 'The Haunted Lagoon', [poem] Bulletin, 28 May 1892, p. 22. 'The Swell Sundowner', [story] Queensland Punch, lojune 1892, p. 66. 'Long Jim's Love Story', [story] Bulletin, 11 June 1892, p. 24. 'The Accursed Coin', [story] Australasian, 18 June 1892, pp. 1186— 7. 'The Deaf Cook', [story] Queensland Punch, 1 October 1892, pp. 131-2. 'A Salvation Stockman', [story] Bulletin, 8 October 1892, p. 19. 'Thejackeroo'. [story] Queensland Punch, 1 November 1892, p. 156. 'Bun thorp's Decease', [story] Bulletin, i7December 1892, pp. lo-ii; republished. Tales of the Austral Tropics, pp. 231—66. 'That Other Fellow', [story] Bulletin, 17 December 1892, p. 15; republished. The Last of Six, pp. 127-41; Tales of the Austral Tropics, pp. 177-205. 'The Mystery of Baines' Dog', [story] Bulletin, 17 December 1892, p. 18; repubhshed. The Last of Six, pp. 67-80; Tales of the Austral Tropics, pp. 95-121. 'Blood for Blood', [story] Bulletin, 17 December 1892, p. 21; repub- lished. My Only Murder and Other Tales, pp. 26-32. 'In the Night', [story] Bulletin, 17 December 1892, p. 23. 'Leichhardt's Last Camp: A Legend of the Upper Burdekin'. [story] Queensland Punch, i January 1893, PP- 6—7. 'The Doom of the Desert: A Soliloquy', [story] Bulletin, 14 January 1893, P- 19- 'Muscular Action', [anecdote] Bulletin, 14 January 1893, p. 20. 'A North Queensland Temperance Story. "Enough to Sicken an Alligator'". Bulletin, 21 January 1893, p. 2; republished. My Only Murder and Other Tales, pp. 230-6. 'Oyster Culture'. [^ros&s]!ittch]Queensland Punch, 1 February 1893, P- 20. 'The Belle of Sagamodu'. [short story] Bulletin, 4 March 1893, p. 2; repubhshed. My Only Murder and Other Tales, pp. 201-10. 'A Tragedy in Ten Minutes', [story] Bulletin, 4 March 1893, p. 23. APPENDIX 2 173 'Steelson's Cords', [story] Bulletin, i April 1893, p. 17. 'Mrs. Stapleton No. 2'. [story] Bulletin, 29 April 1893, p. 22; repub- lished. My Only Murder and Other Tales, pp. 172-9. 'A Meeting After Years', [story] Bulletin, 13 May 1893, p. 24. 'A Victim to Gratitude', [story] Bulletin, 27 May 1893, p. 23. 'My Father Who Was Dead', [story] Bulletin, 19 August 1893, p. 20. 'The Ghostly Bullock-Bell', [story] Bulletin, 26 August 1893, p. 19. 'A Message from the Desert', [serial] Chamber's Journal, 70: chap, i, 4 November 1893, PP- 695-8; chap, ii, 11 November, pp. 712-15; chap, iii, 18 November, pp. 728-30; chap, iv, 25 November, pp. 743-6. 'My Only Murder', [story] Bulletin, 16 December 1893, p. 9; repub- lished. My Only Murder and Other Tales, pp. i-io. 'A Gum-Tree in the Desert', [story] Bulletin, 16 December 1893, p. 8; repubUshed, My Only Murder and Other Tales, pp. 237-43; Bulle- tin, 20 March 1919, p. 36; Bulletin, 26 August 1959, p. 36. 'A Tale of the Western Desert', [story] The Antipodean: An Illustrated Annual, 2, ed. George Essex Evans and John Tighe Ryan (London: Chatto & Windus, 1893), pp. 103-7. 'The Shilling Reef . [story] Cosmos Magazine, i September 1894, pp. 13-22. 'An Unquiet Spirit', [story] Bulletin, 3 November 1894, pp. 23-4; republished, My Only Murder and Other Tales, pp. 75-89. 'The End of a Feud', [story] Bulletin, 3 March 1894, p. 22. 'Baxter's Loan', [story] Bulletin, 17 March 1894, P- 22. 'Travellers' Tales', [prose sketch] Bulletin, 21 April 1894, p. 23. 'What Puzzled Balladune'. [story] Bulletin, 12 May 1894, pp. 23-4; republished. My Only Murder and Other Tales, pp. 1 1 8-3 1 . 'The Man Who Ran Away', [story] Bulletin, 26 May 1894, p. 21. 'A Memory of North Queensland', {story] Bulletin, 23 June 1894, p. 24. 'A Tale of Vanderlin Island', [story] Bulletin, 1 1 August 1894, pp. 23- 4; republished. My Only Murder and Other Tales, pp. 11-25. 'Lost in the Bush', [article] Bulletin, 10 November 1894, p. 22. 'Bush Orgies and Fighting' . [letter] Bulletin, 1 November 1 894, p . 24. 'In the Bamboos: A Tale of the Northern Territory' [anecdote] Bulletin, i December 1894, p. 24. 'The Ghosts of the Desert', [poem] Bulletin, 15 December 1894, p. 7; republished. Review of Reviews, 20 January 1895, PP- 35^6; as 'The Desert Ghosts', Voices of the Desert, pp. 3-8. 'The Burial of Owen', [story] Bulletin, 15 December 1894, p. 22; 174 APPENDIX 2 republished, My Only Murder and Other Tales, pp. 41-8. 'The Editor and the Ghosts', [story] Cosmos Magazine, 29 December 1894, pp. 237-40. 'Introduction'. Australian Boys and Girls, i, 1895, pp. 1-2; 'Mount Madness: A Short Story with Biographical Sketch', pp. 3-1 1; 'Louis Becke'. [biographical sketch], p. 43; 'Ernest Favenc'. [bio- graphical sketch], p. 46. 'A Reminiscence', [anecdote] Bulletin, 9 February 1895, p. 24. 'Bill Somers'. [story] Bulletin, 16 February 1895, p. 24; republished. My Only Murder and Other Tales, pp. 99-107. 'The Voice of the Desert', [poem] Cosmos Magazine, 28 February 1895, p. 317; republished. Voices of the Desert, p. vii. 'A Black Heathen', [anecdote] Bulletin, 9 November 1895, p. 28. 'The Last of His Tribe', [story] Bulletin, 12 December 1895, p. 1 1. 'The Boundary Rider's Story', [story] Bulletin, 14 December 1895, p. 13; republished. My Only Murder and Other Tales, pp. 180-91 . 'The Other Mrs. Brewer', [story] Bulletin, 14 December 1895, p. 14; republished. My Only Murder and other Tales, pp. 33-40. 'The Story of a Long Watch', [story] Bulletin, 14 December 1895, p. 15; republished. My Only Murder and Other Tales, pp. 132-44. 'A Waif of the Desert' . [story] Sydney Mail, Christmas Supplement, 2 1 December 1895, pp. i-iii. 'The Doom of the Desert', [story] Queenslander, Christmas Supple- ment, 1895, pp. 2-3. 'His Sweetheart's Face', [story] Cosmos Magazine, 30 April 1896, pp. 320-5. 'The Pity of the Stars', [story] Sydney Mail, Christmas Supplement, 19 December 1896, pp. xi, xiv. 'A Vice Regal Visit', [story] Evening News, 26 December 1896, p. 3. 'The Watchers'. [poem]Queenslander, Christmas Supplement 1896, p. 18; republished. Voices of the Desert, pp. 9-1 1; Australian Bush Ballads, ed. Douglas Stewart and Nancy Keesing (Sydney: Angus & Robertson, 1955), pp. 123-4. 'A Singular Chain of Events', [story] Bulletin, 2 October 1897, p. 32. 'The True Story of the Marvellous Fossil Discovery', [story] Evening News Supplement, 11 December 1897, p. i. 'Red Rafferty's Son', [story] Bulletin, 11 December 1897, p. 30. 'The Strange Occurrence on Huckey's Creek', [story] Bulletin, 11 December 1897, p. 39. [Paragraph on Professor Morris's Dictionary of Austral English, re- APPENDIX 2 175 viewed in the Bulletin, i8 December 1897]. Bulletin, 8 January 1897, Red Page. 'On the Plains', [story] Queenslander, Christmas Supplement, 1897, p. 2. [Letter to the Editor about the Australian Black]. Bulletin, 2 April 1898, p. 7. 'A Song of Queensland', [^otm] Queenslander, 13 August 1898, p. 305. 'A New History of the Discovery of Austraha'. [article] Bulletin, 14 May 1898, p. 15. 'The Blood-Debt', [story] Phil May's Winter Annual (1899), 23-33. 'From a Quano Island', [story] Bulletin, 18 June 1898, p. 32. [Anecdote about a Theft in Blackall, in 'Aboriginalities']. Bulletin, 8 July 1898, p. 14. 'The Member for Turrawilligar: A Romance of a General Election'. [story] Evening News, 16 July 1898, p. 8. 'Clarissa', [story] Evening News, 29 July 1899, p. 3. 'Circumstantial Evidence. A Forgotten Queensland Story'. Bulletin, 18 November 1899, p. 31. 'The Last Message', [story] Evening News, 16 December 1899, p. 5. 'In North-Western Australia', [story] Bulletin, 3 March 1900, p. 32. [Letter on Alfred Pybus]. Bulletin, 19 May 1900, p. 19. 'A Song of the Century', [poem] Evening News, 29 December 1900, p. 6; republished, Voices of the Desert, pp. 69-73. 'McWhirter's Wraith', [story] Phil May's Illustrated Summer Annual, Coronation Year (1901), 12-16. 'On the Island of Shadows', [story] Phil May's Illustrated Winter Annual (igoo-oi), 13-18. 'The Girl Body-Stealer'. [story] Phil May 's Illustrated Winter Annual, (1901-02), 3-8. 'The Eternal Feminine', [story] Bulletin, 25 January 1902, p. 31. 'In Copra Land', [article] Australasian, 12 April 1902, pp. 841-2. 'A Desert-and Why.'', [article] Bulletin, 7 June 1902, Red Page. [Letter to 'Aboriginalities', about Volcanic Activity in Australia]. Bulletin, 14 June 1902, p. 14. 'Some Curious Rock Paintings', [article] Bulletin, 20 September 1902, Red Page. 'The Coming Earthquake', [article] Bulletin, 11 October 1902, p. 17. 'Lake Eyre', [letter] Bulletin, 30 October 1902, p. 29. 'A Territorial Question', [article] Bulletin, 29 November 1902, p. 19. 'The Land of the Unseen', [story] Phil May 's Illustrated Winter Annual 176 APPENDIX 2 (1902-03), 3-10. [Letter on Lost Jewish Tribe to 'Aboriginalities']. Bulletin, 28 Febru- ary 1903, p. 16. 'A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing', [story] Dalgety's Review, i December 1903, PP- 77-80. 'What the Rats Brought', [story] Phil May 's Illustrated Annual (1903- 04), 14-20. 'When the Rations Are Gone', [article] Bulletin, 21 April 1904, p. 29. 'The Overlanders'. [articles] Town and Country Journal, 18 May 1904, p. 35; 25 May, p. 35; i June, p. 35; 8 June, p. 35; 15 June, p. 22; 22 June, p. 34. [Paragraphs on River Names in 'Aboriginalities']. Bulletin, 19 May 1904, p. 17; 9 June, p. 16. 'The Pastoral Push', [poem] Bulletin, 7 July 1904, p. 17. 'Pidgin Talk', [paragraph in 'Aboriginalities'] Bulletin, i4july 1904, p. 17- 'Tales of the Dutch Discovery-The Secret of Torres Strait', [histori- cal sketches] yi«i/r«/fl«a«, 10 December 1904, p. 1434. 'G. W. Evans. A Retrospect', [article] Sydney Morning Herald, 3 June 1905, p. 9. [Paragraph about the Politeness of Aborigines]. Bulletin, 29 June 1905, p. 17. [Paragraph about Printer's Copy]. Bulletin, 20 July 1905, p. 31. 'Chance Acquaintances', [story abridged from Town and Country Journal] British Australasian, 25 January 1906, p. 19. 'Under the Coolibah'. [story] Rowlandson's Success, i (1907), 83-8. 'A Fatal Gamble: A Story of the Great Barrier Reef, [story] Australa- sian, 4 May 1907, p. 1074. 'The Kaditcha. A Tale of the Northern Territory', [story] Australa- sian, 20 July 1907, p. 181. 'The Abduction of Nettletop'. [story] Sydney Mail, 9 October 1907, p. 958. 'The Overlanders and Connor's Range', [article] Australasian, 9 May 1908, pp. 1170-1. 'Song of Cape Leeuwin'. [poem] A Book of Australian Verse for Boys and Girls, ed. B. Stevens (London: Angus & Robertson, 1916), p. 107 (republished from Voices of the Desert, p. 39); republished as 'Cape Leeuwin', Cummins and Campbell's Monthly Magazine, v. No. 91 (November 1934), p. 41. APPENDIX 2 177 'Song of the Torres Strait Islands', [poem] A Book of Australian Verse for Boys and Girls, ed. B. Stevens (London: Angus & Robertson, 1916), pp. 254-6 (republished from Voices of the Desert, pp. 36-8). 'The Auriferous Gin', [story] Sydney Mail, 27 October 1920, p. 12. [Letter about Aboriginal Women in the Northern Territory, re- printed]. Bulletin, i April 1931, p. 28. 'The Native Dead', [poem] Tribune, 19 July 1945, p. 4. 'Daybreak in the Desert', [poem] Bards in the Wilderness. Australian Colonial Poetry to 1920, ed. Brian Elliott and Adrian Mitchell (Melbourne and Sydney: Thomas Nelson, 1970), p. 135 (repub- lished from Voices of the Desert, p. 68). 'The Bankrupt Poet', [poem] Australian Voices, ed. Edward Kynaston (Ringwood, Vic: Penguin, 1974), p. 162. Newspaper and Magazine Items in Books of Cuttings, Sources Unlocated Mitchell Library, Q^g8o.r/F (c. 1 872-1 883) Poems: 'The Modern Red Fisherman' . 'Death the Comforter' . 'Punch to Queensland'. 'GiveandltShallBeGiven Unto You'. 'TheStory of a Bottle. A Message from the Sea', [dated by hand, i July 1881, republished. Voices of the Desert, pp. 40-3]. Article: 'Some Forgotten Discoverers of Terra Australis'. [Sydney Morning Herald]. Mitchell Library, newspaper cuttings, vol. 52, pp. 108-112 Article: 'The Land of Fire. I and IF {c. 1902) Mitchell Library, QA 821 E g2. 1 2A1, newspaper cuttings of George Essex Evans; at end, Ernest Favenc Story: 'McCathy's Brew. A Gulf Country Yarn', [dated by hand, 29 May 1894] Poem: 'In the Great Drought. The Native Dead', [dated by hand, 4 April 1903; Voices of the Desert, pp. 23-4]. Articles: 'The Riverina Claim', [dated by hand, 10 March 1901]. 'The Romance of the Marked Tree', [dated by hand, 24 July 1906]. Mitchell Library, Q_A 823/ F, cuttings of stories and sketches by Ernest Favenc Stories: 'Glugson's Bend Sanatorium'. [Evening News 1897]. 'Darkie'. 'The Diary of a Sydney Office Boy', [dated by hand, 23 July 1 898]. 'A Bush Idyll', [dated by hand, 1900]. 'Reformation of Miverson's 178 APPENDIX 2 Parrot'. 'The Peak of Lost Dreams'. 'The Lost Gully'. 'Between Christmas and New Year: A Story in Two Bucks and a Cropper' 'Farrar's Mission'. 'Mrs. Plugberry'. 'Mrs. Birrell's Cows'. 'A Wrecked Fortune'. Mitchell Library, Q^gSo.i F, articles, poems, etc. mainly from newspapers by Ernest Favenc (c. igoo—08) Articles: 'The Romance of the Map'. 'The Romance of the Marked Tree'. 'Australia's Map. How It Was Built Up', [dated by hand, 6 May 1905]. 'Australia's Map. How It Was Built Up. IF. 'The Seas of Australia'. 'The Seas of Australia. IF. 'Local Names in New South Wales'. 'The Riverina Claim'. 'The Crown Colony of North Australia'. 'Our Vanishing History'. 'Pioneering Waves'. 'Federa- tion and the Settlement of the Interior'. 'The Danger to Our Heritage' [in the New Hebrides]. 'Dutch New Guinea and Merouka'. 'To the Happy and Unhappy Isles. IV'. [Solomon Islands]. 'Among Our Books. The Library We Have'. 'Concerning the Ant'. 'The Fate of Australia', [dated by hand, 14 July 1900]. [Untitled article about Native Police in Queensland]. 'The French in Australia'. 'Australian Sailors of the Past'. 'John Shortland'. 'P. P. King'. 'Our Ter-Centenary'. 'Life Without Blankets'. Story: 'A Missing Vessel'. C: REPORTS AND BRIEF GEOGRAPHICAL STUDIES General Report on Country in the Northern Territory and [with L. Crawford] Report of the Country on the Macarthur River, Northern Territory. Exploration Pamphlets 5, No. 15. Brisbane: Govern- ment Printer, 1883. 'Explorations in the Region of the Upper Gascoyne and Ashburton Rivers, West Australia'. Proceedings of the Royal Geographical Society (London), xi (1889), 490-6. 'The Influence of Geographical Position on the Development of the Australian Natives'. Geographical Journal. Including the Proceed- ings of the Royal Geographical Society (London), ii (1893), 316-20. 'The Geographical Paradox of Australia'. Review of Reviews, 20 Sep- tember 1895, pp. 256-7. APPENDIX 2 179 D: MANUSCRIPTS AND TYPESCRIPTS All items listed in Section D are holograph manuscripts by Favenc, unless otherwise indicated. Mitchell Library Letters to John Murray (Afs/ 1); Bolger {M^/2); D. S. Mitchell (Afs/ 3); Edith (Af3/4 and Afs/s); Randolph Bedford (Af3/6); Jack (DOC s86a). 'Leichhardt'. [poem] (DOC 586b). 'The Miner's Plate'; 'A Romance of Kangaroo Point' [holograph by Bessie Favenc]. (B741). Diary of the Queenslander Transcontinental Expedition through the Districts between the Barcoo River and the Overland Telegraph Line to Darwin, 1 5 September 1878-20 February 1879, by Ernest Favenc (B882-4). Diary of Expedition in the Northern Territory from Powell's Creek to Daly Waters, 28 May-15 July 1883, by Ernest Favenc. 'Corporal Frank', sent to A. G. Stephens about 1900 (2547). Letters to Walter Jeffery, 6 April and 9 April 1906. Typescripts of historical sketch, 'The First Christmas Dinner in the Australian Interior', and of 'Details for Picture'; manuscript giving instruc- tions for sketch, with sketch of pack saddle (1969/12). Letter to Walter Jeffery, dated 15 May 1906. Hayes Collection, Fryer Library, University of Queensland Letters to A. G. Stephens: 4 June 1897 (2/957); i November 1905 (from Mrs Ernest Favenc) (2/958); postcard, 28 March 1907 (2/ 959); and letter to W. MacLeod, 11 April 1906 (2/960). Letters Held by Mrs Jan Goodwin To Bessie Favenc from her sister, Helen (Nell) Harrison, 16 April and 26 October 1886; letter from Bessie to Ralph, Nell's husband, on learning of Nell's death, 13 November 1886. E: REVIEWS OF FAVENC'S WORK The History of Australian Exploration. Sydney Mail, 30 June 1888, p. 1388. The Story of Our Continent, Told with Pen and Pencil. Queenslander, 12 December 1891, p. 1123; Evening News, 27 January 1892, p. 2. The Last of Six. Sydney Mail, 8 July 1893, p. 73; Daily Telegraph, 15 i8o APPENDIX 2 July 1893, p. 3; Queenslander, 26 August 1893, p. 403; Bulletin, I September 1894, Red Page. Tales of the Austral Tropics. Athenaeum, 14 July 1894, p. 63; Spectator, 17 November 1894, p. 701; Queenslander, 15 September, 1894, p. 498 [quoted {vom Athenaeum]. The Secret of the Australian Desert. 'An Australian Boys' Book', Bulle- tin, 23 November 1895, Red Page; Sydney Mail, 14 December 1895, p. 1221. The Moccasins of Silence. 'A Good Yarn'. Bulletin, 4 January 1896, Red Page. Marooned in Australia. Sydney Mail, 14 November 1896, p. 1030; Queenslander, 12 December 1896, pp. 1 123-4; Bulletin, 19 Decem- ber 1896, Red Page; Queenslander, 11 February 1905, p. 23. Tales for Young Australia. Sydney Mail, 26 December 1896, p. 1242; Sydney Mail, 26 November 1898, p. 1275. My Only Murder and Other Tales. Book Lover I, i (1899), p. i; Australasian, 22 April 1899, p. 889; Sydney Mail, 6 May 1899, p. 1027. Phil May's Illustrated Winter Annual(iSgg)[stoTyhyFi\encinc\adtd]. Sydney Mail, 20 January 1900, p. 163; 24 February 1900, p. 434. Voices of the Desert. A. G. Stephens, [preview] Bulletin, 16 February 1905, Red Page; Bulletin, 2 November 1905, Red Page; Australa- sian, 4 November 1905, p. 1127; Queenslander, 4 November 1905, p. 22; Sydney Mail, 8 November 1905, p. 1199; Spectator, 11 November 1905, p. 762. The Physical Configuration of the Australian Continent. Bulletin, 16 November 1905, Red Page. The Explorers of Australia and Their Life Work. A. G. Stephens, [preview] 'History of Australasian Exploration', Bulletin, 26 April 1906, Red Page; 'Explorers of East, Centre, and West of Australia', Queenslander, 9 May 1908, p. 20; Sydney Mail, 13 May 1908, p. 1248; Australasian, 30 May 1908, p. 1353; 'Explorers of East, Centre and West of Australia', Bulletin, 18 June 1908, Red Page; Charles R. hong. All About Books, 10, no. i, 15 January, 1938, p. 9. F: MATERIALS FOR FAVENC'S BIOGRAPHY Briggs' Journal, Moreton Bay to Port Darwin, 1878-9 (Mitchell Library MS. C409-410). 'Safe Arrival at the Overland Telegraph Line'. Queenslander, 18 Janu- ary 1879, p. 77; editorial, p. 80. APPENDIX 2 l8l 'Mr. Ernest Favenc'. [biographical note with portrait] Sydney Mail, 3 May 1879, p. 689. [Editorial on the Queenslander Expedition]. Sydney Mail, 8 January i88i,p.65. Diary of Emily Caroline Creaghe, Woman Member of the Exploration Party Partnered by Ernest Favenc and Harry A. Creaghe and Accompanied by Lindsay Crawford, 1883 (Mitchell Library MS.). 'Mr. Ernest Favenc's Explorations in the Northern Territory', [letter] Sydney Mail, 10 November 1883, pp. 905-6; illustration, p. 873. 'Ernest Favenc's Latest Explorations'. Queenslander, 4 October 1884, PP- 547-8. 'An Exploring Trip'. West Australian, 22 March 1888, p. 3. 'Station Life in West Australia: Blackfellows as Workmen'. West Australian, 17 October 1888, p. 3. 'Some Afaj/ Writers', [with portrait] ^j/^wey Afa«7, Christmas Supple- ment, 19 December 1896, p. xxx. [Favenc's illness]. Queenslander, 13 February 1897, p. 348. [Biographical note]. Queenslander, 22 May 1897, p. 1123. 'Our Australian Craftswomen. No. i: Mrs. Ernest Favenc'. Art and Architecture: Journal of the Institute of Architects ofN.S. W., iv, no. 6 (November-December 1907), p. 224; 'Art Needlework', [article by Mrs Favenc], pp. 225-7. 'Interview with Mr. Ernest Favenc by G. Mclver, January 1907' Australian Pioneers, Paper i (typescript, Mitchell Library Q^A 920.09/M). [Newspaper cuttings of George Essex Evans]. (Mitchell Library Q_ A821 E92.1 2A1). Obituaries: Evening News, 16 November 1908; 'Ernest Favenc. Ex- plorer-Author's Death'. Sydney Morning Herald, 16 November 1908, p. 6 [with portrait]; Town and Country Journal, 1 8 November 1908, p. 52; Bulletin, 19 November 1908, p. 18 [with portrait]; Australasian, 21 November 1908, p. 13 12; Dalgety's Review, 16, I December 1908, p. 43. Green, H. M. [article, with portrait of Favenc] 'The Bulletin and the Short Story'. Bulletin, Jubilee Number, 29 January 1930, pp. 52-4- 'Bartle Frere'. 'Winton District: Story of Discovery'. North Queens- land Register, 27 July 1946, p. 20. Roderick, Colin, ed. Australian Round-Up: Stories from ijgo-igso. Sydney: Angus & Robertson 1953, pp. 349-5°- 1 82 APPENDIX 2 Fitz Henry, W. E. 'The Men Who Wrote the Bush Ballads'. Bulletin, 28 September 1955, p. 25. Feekin, Erwin H. J., Gerda E. E. Feekin and O. H. K. Spate. The Discovery and Exploration of Australia. Melbourne: Thomas Nel- son, 1970, pp. 197-8 [with portrait]. Robertson, Anne. 'The Little Explorer' [report on Emily Caroline Creaghe, with selections from her Diary] Sydney Morning Herald, 13 May 1976, p. 12; 14 May, p. 10; 20 May, p. 13. Andrews, Barry G. and William H. Wilde. Australian Literature to igoo. A Guide to Information Sources. American Literature, English Literature, and World Literatures in Enghsh Information Guide Services, Vol. 22. Detroit: Gale Research Company, 1980, pp. 203-4. Explanatory Notes AUSTRALIA WITH LOCATIONS RELEVANT TO FAVENC 500 kilometres TROPl OOFCAP""^ obn 300 miles Albany Queenslander Transconlinental Expedition 1878 - 1879 Favenc's Northern Territory Expedition 1883 Expedition to Western Australia 1888 Routes shown are approximate 300 kilometres 200 miles See main map for key to expedition routes Carpentaria Sir Edward Pellew Group •%vV?*Ovaiiderlin Island Macdonnell Ranges TROPIC OF CAPRICOHH- Alice Springs EXPLANATORY NOTES Nearly all the geographical references in Favenc's stories are accurate and verifiable: see maps for locations. Fictional places are noted below. Bibliographical details for Favenc's works are given in Appendix 2. 'EF' means Ernest Favenc. A Havint of the Jinkarras 1 (p. 7) Lett's Diary A household item in the 1890s: the device of diary transcription after the event (1. 9) had been popularised in Rider Haggard's fiction, e.g. Allan Quartermain (i 887). In EF's adven- ture novel, The Secret of the Australian Desert (1895), a journal reveals the fate of the lost expedition of the explorer, Ludwig Leichhardt (i8i3-.''48), pp. 88-102 (edn of 1910). 2 (p. 7) the line The Overland Telegraph Line (OTL), running from Darwin to Port Pirie, was completed in 1872, thus providing a cable connection between the chief Australian ports and the rest of the world. EF explored territory adjourning the OTL n.e. of Powell Creek on his expeditions of 1878-79 and 1882-83. 3 (p. 8) Amongst the ranges, plenty of water, Permanent water holes in the Macdonnell Ranges are still used by stock. EF did not visit these ranges on any of his documented expeditions. 4 (p. 8) Ruby Gorge . . . found the rubies The find which launched the nearby Aritunga goldfield in 1 887 may have inspired EF's notion of rubies. 5 (p. 8) caves in the ranges. EF visited the limestone caves near Katherine whilst returning to Port Darwin from the Queenslander expedition (see Introduction, p. xvii). The climax to The Secret of the Australian Desert takes place in a large (fictional) cave in ranges west of the OTL (pp. 59-62). 6 (p. 8) figure like a large monkey For the context of EF's invention of a sub-human species, see Introduction, p. xxx and next note. 7 (p. 10) threeinchesof a monkey-like tail. A common late Victorian fantasy, e.g. Carl Bock refers to pervasive rumours of a tailed race in the Malay archipelago and islands of the South Pacific in The 187 1 88 EXPLANATORY NOTES Head-Hunters of Borneo: A Narrative of Travels up the Mahakkatn and Down the Barito; Also Joumeyings in Sumatra (London: Sampson Low, 1881), pp. 143-4, 236-7- 8 (p. 12) Egyptian darkness Exodus x. 20-3. 9 (p. 14) dead-reckoning. Estimating position by recording distance travelled and compass directions. (See EF's article, 'Lost in the Bush', 1894, p. 22.) The Last of Six 1 (p. 15) Like Amyas Leigh . . . Satan at the helm. From Charles Kingsley's Westward Ho!, chap, xx (1855; London: Dent, i960), p. 408: 'If Amyas had seen a crew of skeletons glide down the stream behind him, with Satan standing at the helm, he would scarcely have been surprised'. EF's description of the swamps is broadly indebted to the account of the Venezuelan coast in the same chapter (pp. 407-8). For the unprecedented popularity of Westward Ho! into the 1890s and later, see Styron Harris, Charles Kingsley, A Reference Guide (Boston: G. K. Hall, 1981), pp. xix, 43, 45. 2 (p. 15) alligator, Common name for crocodiles in nineteenth- century Australian writing. 3 (p. 15) towzled, Dishevelled; an English dialect word, but widely used. 4 (p. 17) beche-de-mer station. French, Uterally 'sea-spade' (trepang, or sea-cucumber) which Europeans collected near islands of the Barrier Reef and the Torres Strait from the 1 850s. It was boiled and cured before being shipped to Asia and sold for its supposed aphro- disiac qualities. Beche-de-mer fishing was considered a lowly occupa- tion, beneath the dignity of pearlers. It depended on the cheap and often enforced labour of Aborigines and Pacific Islanders ('a kanaka', 1. 12). 5 (p. 18) escapees from New Caledonia. Annexed by France in 1853, New Caledonia was a penal colony 1865-97, housing poUtical prisoners, petty criminals who had repeatedly re-offended, and dan- gerous criminals sentenced to hard labour. The number peaked at about 10,500 in 1886. Escapes from confinement were frequent, but it was rare for prisoners to escape from the island (cf Sydney Morning Herald, 1 1 August 1884, p. 4). Escapees from New Caledonia figure in EF's stories 'A Meeting After Years' (1893, p. 24), 'On the Island of Shadows' (190&-01, pp. 13-18); and 'A Fatal Gamble: A Story of the Great Barrier Reef (1907, p. 1074). EXPLANATORY NOTES 189 6 (p. 20) Delcomyn. Sometimes abbreviated to D., this was the signature most frequently attached to EF's contributions in the Bulle- tin. Its meaning is unknown. A Cup of Cold Water 1 (p. 22) Salter than the sea! The arid landscape of central Western Australia (hereafter WA), which EF had seen during his expedition of 1 888 (see Introduction, p. xx) is accurately described. His report of the upper Murchison comments on the unpredictable occur- rence of salt and fresh water pools (Melbourne Argus, 24 November 1888, p. 6). 2 (p. 22) cork trees Corkwood trees (in WA, Hakea suberea) grow up to eight metres, and have deeply fissured, cork-like bark. 3 (p. 22) in a deep . . . hands. Cf EF's account of the Murchison: 'At the foot of the hill are several of the strange rock holes, like small tanks cut in the solid rock' {Argus, 29 September 1888, p. 11). 4 (p. 23) rude . . . aboriginal devil. Cf EF's description in the Argus: On the flat rock around the holes the natives in former days had executed rude drawings, scratched with stones. Tracks of the emu, of gins and piccaninnies, and snakes, the six-toed track of the devil, made to keep evil spirits away, and rude drawings of the sun and moon, {ibid.) 'Devil's tracks' figure also in The Secret of the Australian Desert, P-35- 5 (p. 24) the G — and the L — , EF's party explored the upper reaches of the Gascoyne and Ashburton Rivers, reporting some excel- lent pastoral country on s. tributaries of the Ashburton (see Introduc- tion, p. xx). The Lyons is a major tributary of the Gascoyne. 6 (p. 25) nigger This word, with its pejorative overtones, was current in colonial Queensland and elsewhere. Distrust engendered in the British by the Indian Mutiny of 1857 brought the term into common currency, though its origins are older. 7 (p. 25) the few thousands . . . western colony A dream of wealth to be made from the land was a major motivation of EF's explorations (especially the cattle stations, Hillingdon and Eva Downs, in the Northern Territory: see Introduction, p. xviii) . . . WA. 8 (p. 25) mining-boom. The first goldfield in WA, near Hall's Creek, was proclaimed in 1 886, and significant strikes were made in the n.w. in 1888. Coolgardie and Kalgoorlie did not come into production until the 1890s. EF procured a miner's right and permit while in Perth, igo EXPLANATORY NOTES preparatory to his expedition of 1 888 ( West Australian, 22 March 1888, P-3)- 9 (p. 29) the asylum at Kew, The Yarra Bend Hospital (est. 1 848) was later renamed the Kew Mental Hospital. The Kew Cottages (est. in the grounds in 1887, after the model of the Abendberg mental institution in Switzerland) may have brought the asylum to EF's attention. Marten's fate, no doubt intended to be understood as horrific, draws on the deservedly gruesome reputation of nineteenth- century mental institutions. The Rvunford Plains Tragedy 1 (p. 30) Rumford Plains A fictional location, probably with play on 'rum', in its colloquial use as an adjective. Cf. the comic coinage, 'Upton Downs', the station at 103:22, which may recall the name of EF's station of Hillingdon, and 42:3 and note. 2 (p. 30) L. S. D. Bank, Wattleville. Another fictional name: £. s. d. is the abbreviation for pounds, shillings, pence. 3 (p. 32) the double of my whip. Presumably the junction of the handle and the thong, when the whip is folded over to be carried on horseback: cf 'the butt-end of his whip' (33:29) and 'the double of the stockwhip' (34:3-4)- 4 (p. 34) d — Swearwordssuchas'damned' (55:6,92:13, 121:5), and blasphemies such as 'God' (55:5) are not printed in full in the Bulletin texts. Stronger swearing tends to be an attribute of villains, e.g. 71:19, 121:11. The Story of the Big Pearl I (p. 35) a small lugger, one of a pearling fleet. The economic basis of the pearling industry was pearl shell because viable pearls were rarely found. The first pearl shell to be harvested commercially was taken from the Warrior Reefs in the n. of the Torres Strait in 1 868, and the industry flourished until the 1950s. Luggers, often working in fleets of five or six, were the typical pearling vessels until c. 1930. For as long as pearl shell was obtainable in the shallow water above reefs. South Sea Islanders, often women, were employed as divers (cf 17:12). Later, when divers required equipment to fish deeper waters. Islander and Torres Strait men were employed as crews, often against their will. Philippinos, Europeans and Malays participated, but from the 1890s Japanese crews and divers predominated. One diver, his tender, and four men as crew who worked the air pump were the usual comple- EXPLANATORY NOTES 191 ment, but for purposes of his narrative EF adjusts the number. Pearl divers courted death from the bends, drovming or shark attack. 2 (p. 36) Thursday Island. After 1885 companies were permit- ted to centraUse their operations on Thursday Island, which became the headquarters of the industry. 3 (p. 36) eight bells . . . the E. and A. steamer 4 a.m .... In 1874 the Eastern and Australian Mail Steamship Company pioneered a mail service from Brisbane and other Queensland ports, through the Torres Strait, to Batavia and Singapore. The Company's mail contract expired in 1880, but its operations along the Queensland coast contin- ued. 4 (p. 37) the pearl . . . dissolved by Qeopatra, Cf. Ben Jonson's Volpone (1606), in. vii. 191-3: 'See, here, a rope of pearle; and each, more orient/ Then that the braue Aegyptian queene caroused:/ Dissolue, and drinke 'hem. ' The oldest surviving version of the legend is in Pliny's Natural History (ad 77), ix. 58. 5 (P- 38) committed . . . jumping overboard This episode and the death of Syed may be modelled on a report printed in the Bulletin, 19 April 1890, beneath 'The Last of Six': The other day the s.s. Fastnet left Rangoon, and while the engineers were at mess they complained to their steward (a Malay) of their food. By way of reply the man ran amok, stabbed the second engineer to death and seriously wounded the chief. Then he went overboard, (p. 8) 6 (p. 40) province Often used as a loose alternative to 'colony' {The Australian National Dictionary: A Dictionary ofAustralianisms on Historical Principles [hereafter yiA'D], ed. W. S. Ramson, Melbourne, Oxford UP, 1988). On 7 February 1 891, the Bulletin pleaded: 'Please don't use the word colony. It jars, grates, and galls. Say "province" or something like that. To ensavage RepubUcans the Imperialists are always nagging about colony, colony, colony' (p. 9). 7 (p. 41) the B. and I. steamer Quetta. The British India Steam Navigation Company (B.I.) named its steamships after towns in India. (Quetta, the capital of Baluchistan, was then within India.) In 1880, B.I. replaced the E. and A. Company on the maU route from Brisbane to Batavia, and provided a monthly service to London. The Quetta commenced service on this route in 1883. (See John C. Foley, The Quetta, Queensland's Worst Disaster, Aspley, Qld, Nairana PubUca- tions, 1990, pp. 13-14) 8 (p. 41) saved from the wreck of the Quetta. En route for London, the Quetta struck an unsurveyed rock and sank near Cape 192 EXPLANATORY NOTES York on 28 February 1890. Only 158 of the 292 on board were saved. Reports in the Bulletin of 8 and 15 March focussed on the claim that Asians on board were saved at the cost of European passengers. 'The Story of the Big Pearl' appeared less than four months after the disaster. References appeared in numerous other fictions, including Randolph Bedford's 'Fourteen Fathoms by Quetta Rock', Australian Short Stories, ed. George Mackaness (London and Toronto: J. M. Dent, 1928), pp. 33-44. The Stolen Colours 1 (p. 42) Baroma River, A fictional location. 2 (p. 42) fences and boundary-riders. The duty of boundary riders was to check the fences of pastoral holdings. 3 (p. 43) screw . . . super. Salary, wages (slang) . . . superintendent. 4 (P- 43) amour-propre French: 'self-esteem'. 5 (P- 4S) "My colours . . . races," A custom of early race meetings, mentioned in D. H. Lawrence and M. L. Skinner's The Boy in the Bush, ed. Paul Eggert (Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1990), p. 1 17, and perhaps inspired originally by knight-champions in such works as Sir Thomas Malory's Le Morte D 'Arthur (c. 1470), who attach ladies' sleeves to their helmets when riding to the joust. Bush favours were ribbons sewn as rosettes. 6 (p. 49) famous," Excellent, 'capital' (colloquial), The Oxford English Dictionary (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1933) [hereafter OED]. 7 (p. 49) sly-grog shop. Unlicensed outback pub. Elsewhere EF castigates pubs for robbing young bushmen of their hard-earned wages (e.g., 154:17-21, and 'In the Lap of Delilah', 1893, p. 282). Spirit-Led 1 (p. 51) Gulf Gulf of Carpentaria. The Flinders River (1. 17) flows into it. The town is Normanton or Burketown. 2 (p. 51) the stoke-hole of a steamer. This is the space where the stokers stand to tend the furnace; or the aperture through which the fire is fed and tended (OED). 3 (P- 51) "on the spree." Bout of drinking and noisy enjoyment; the inverted commas indicate a colloquial usage. In EF's fiction, workers often 'see their cheques through' (52:5), i.e. spend wages earned bymonthsof isolated station work, e.g. at65:24, 127:22, 154:19, consequently suffering 'horrors' or delirium tremens, e.g. at 127:25, 154:23- EXPLANATORY NOTES 193 4 (P- 5 1 ) When Australia becomes republican This assertion of political faith, provocative in the 1 890s, reflects (ironically) the views of Bulletin editors, notably James Edmond. The public and press fervently supported Australia's place in the Empire; politicians and even trade unionists preferred to avoid the issue. 5 (p. 52) the steamer . . . launch coming up. During and after the 1880S the A.S.N, and later the A.U.S.N. Companies, under mail contracts with the Queensland Government, provided a steamer serv- ice from Cooktown to Burketown. Gold and supplies were shipped to and from the Croydon goldfield through Normanton. The coastal steamers could not pass bars at the mouths of rivers giving access to Normanton and Burketown, so light-draught vessels were used. EF travelled by steamer and launch to Normanton in 1882 and 1883 when leading expeditions into the Nicholson River region. 6 (p. 52) true bill True statement - from the legal bill of indictment found sufficient to justify the hearing of a case. 7 (p. 52) cataleptic fit Catalepsy is characterised by a trancelike level of consciousness and postural rigidity - 'no sign of life', 11. 27-8 - but other vital signs are present. Catalepsy features in the central dramatic episode of R. L. Stevenson's The Master ofBallantrae (Lon- don: Eveleigh Nash and Grayson, 1889), pp. 132-60. 8 (p. 52) double-banking the watch I.e. having two men watching the cattle (from the practice of placing rowers on the same bench to pull opposite oars, or having two rowers at each oar). 9 (p. 52) so we . . . bury him at sundown. In her journal account of EF's expedition to the Nicholson in 1883 (see Introduction, p. xix), Caroline Creaghe records the death of a station-worker named Warner, following fits and a coma caused by sunstroke. The body had to be guarded for a day from dingos while a burial party and tools were fetched from the nearest station. These events took place 27-29 January 1883 when EF was temporarily absent in Sydney. 10 (P- 53) can't travel . . . wet season Cattle could not be overlanded during the wet season, December-February (cf 59:7). EF complains about being detained by rain in a letter written from Bowen to his sister Edith in 1871 (Mitchell Library Af 3/4). 1 1 (p. 54) nets made of coarse cheese-cloth. The cloth for pressing curds in cheese-making was used for other purposes, includ- ing curtains, costumes and wrapping for food. In a letter published in the Bulletin on 30 January 1 892, EF explained that cheesecloth netting was used in the North as protection against sandflies (see Introduction, n. 79). 194 EXPLANATORY NOTES 12 (p. 54) P.M. Police Magistrate. 13 (P- 54) potted . . . flour-bag cobra . . . I.e. White head Shot . . . The 'old buck' (as in 'buck-nigger' - i.e. Aboriginal man) is a nightmare vision, not Maxwell, who also has a 'flour-bag cobra' or white head. Cf. a usage of 1859: 'An old Lady . . . with a head as white as snow, topping her black body (a flourbag cobbler, as her tribe would call her)' {AND); 'cobra' (also at 124:6) and 'cobbera' for 'head' are documented in Australian pidgin 1790-1925 {AND). 14 (P- 5S) out on a station on the tableland . . . dispersing- match EF's story, 'The Red Lagoon' (1892), refers to the massacre ('dispersing match') of Aborigines at a station on an unnamed tableland during the 1860s. The sporting connotations type Aborigines as wild game or vermin; this was common at the time (Raymond Evans, Kay Saunders and Kathryn Cronin, Race Relations in Colonial Queensland: A History of Exclusion, Exploitation and Extermination, 3rd edn, St Lucia, Qld, University of Queensland Press, 1993, pp. 76-9). EF had taken part in dispersals himself, as he wrote in a newspaper cutting preserved in the Mitchell Library: 'Few people, unless, Uke myself, they have had personal experience, know anything about black dispers- ing by the police' (Q.980, i F). See also 102:31, and EF's 'A Memory of North Queensland' (1894), p. 24, and 'Corporal Frank'. 15 (P- 5S) He's a clergyman's son . . . well." EF concurred independently with the anti-clerical stance of the Bulletin. Satire of clergymen occurs in EF's serial, 'Lost in the Winning' (1879-80) and in Bulletin stories, e.g. 103:13-14. 16 (p. 56) ti-trees . . . Leichhardt trees Common names for trees of the genus Melaleuca . . . Although the species of trees carved with an 'L', discovered after Leichhardt's disappearance are mostly unre- corded, the name was attached to timber-trees, Morinda citrifolia (called also Canary-wood and Indian Mulberry) and in Queensland to Sarcocephalus cordatus. See note i for p. 151. 17 (P- 56) bloodwood trees. Eucalyptus trees characterised by barks ranging in colour from deep red to almost white, growing mostly in n. Australia. 18 (p. 57) 'Hendrick Heermans, hier vangecommen, 1670.' The name Heermans and the phrasing draw on the narrative of Dutch landings on the w. coast of Australia in EF's The History of Australian Exploration, pp. 22-3. In 1697 Commandant Wilhelm de Vlaming located on an offshore island a pewter dish inscribed with a record of Hartog's landfall in 1616. He replaced it with a similar dish containing EXPLANATORY NOTES 195 a copy of Hartog's inscription and a record of his own visit. Both inscriptions contained the words: 'hier vangecommen' (came here, Dutch). Theodorus Heermans was second-in-command of the Nyptangh, a vessel in Vlaming's fleet. 19 (P- 59) Tom Tiddler's ground ... in chunks." Children's game, in which one player, named Tom Tiddler, possesses a territory. The other players run across this, crying, 'We're on Tom Tiddler's ground, picking up gold and silver' . They are chased by Tom Tiddler, and the first player caught takes his place (OED). 20 (p. 60) the ship Dampier . . . The Bachelor's Delight and the Cygnet . . . west coast, English buccaneer, William Dampier (1651-171 s) captured aDanish ship off Sierra Leone in 1683, renamed it Bachelor's Delight, sailed it to the w. coast of S. America, where, in 1686, he transferred to the Cygnet, crossed the Pacific, and despite a mutiny, remained on board to record in his journal the arrival on the n.w. coast of New Holland in 1688. EF's account of the voyage in The History of Australian Exploration is sketchy and ill-informed (pp. 26-7). 21 (p. 62) a kind of toucan . . . devil of a row No toucan is native to tropical Australia, although several species, e.g. the channel-billed cuckoo, look similar and have a raucous cry. Sandy Macpherson's Christinas Ride 1 (p. 65) grey, box-bark roof on bush-huts . . . cabbage-tree hats . . . the main camp, AND quotes a description from T. P. Bernard, Voice from the Bush (1839), of a bush-hut with slab walls, a bark roof, and apertures instead of windows. The timber of box trees, including grey box {Eucalyptus polyanthemos) is durable, close-grained, and has many uses . . . Wide-brimmed hats woven from the leaves of the cabbage tree palm . . . Normally, the 'head station' - perhaps EF's coinage. 2 (p. 65) stocking A store of money: the inverted commas added for Syd suggest the usage was felt to be colloquial. 3 (p. 66) slush-lamp, Made from a container fitted with a wick (rag, moleskin) and fuelled with waste fat. 4 (p. 68) a Highlander . . . superstitious. In late Victorian romances Celtic people were conventionally associated with a belief in the occult, or with occult powers such as second sight; and in R. L. Stevenson's novels the Scottish Highlands are sometimes associated with preternatural events. 196 EXPLANATORY NOTES 5 (p. 69) chiak 'Chyack is more properly chyike, the cockney pronunciation of "cheek" - impudent badinage' {Bulletin, 17 Decem- ber 1898, Red Page; quoted in AND). Standard spellings are 'chiack' and 'chyack', but 'chiak' is recorded in 1900. The word is semi- colloquial: hence the inverted commas in Syd. 6 (p. 69) gins and piccaninies Neutral rather than opprobrious terms for Aboriginal women or wives and for Aboriginal children, or any children. Although 'piccaninny' was variously spelled {AND), the form, 'piccaninies', retained in Syd and Ei, is unusual. 7 (p. 69) bite the biters. Take revenge on those who had dec- eived him. 'The biter is sometimes bit' is a proverb; cf 86:5. 8 (p. 70) tall blowing 'Blowing' or 'blow' (cf. 'empty blow', 91:31) is exaggerated talk or boasting, considered a colonial usage in Anthony Trollope's Harry Heathcote of Gangoil (London: Ward, Lock, 1874), p. 153. 9 (p. 70) On the gallows hung a freshly-killed beast, Syd attempted an explanation, evidently for urban readers, since most stations used killing gallows for butchering the strung-up carcasses of cattle for their requirements. The gallows comprised two posts, topped by a horizontal pole with chains for lifting the carcass. 10 (p. 70) billet. Job, or post (by extension from the older meaning of 'a soldier's lodging place', yiA^D). Reference to a lodging attached to a job was sometimes retained, as here. 11 (p. 72) caving. Slang or colloquial usage (without the adverb, 'in'), meaning breaking down, was well established by the mid- nineteenth century {OED). The Spell of the Mas-Hantoo 1 (p. 7S) Mas-Hantoo. Translated as 'spirit-gold' at 77:32. Mas, which reappears in Kambing-Mas and Tampat-mas (see notes 13 for p. 77 and 14 for p. 78) is the Bahasa Indonesian word for 'golden'. Antu is the Dyak word for 'spirit'. Spirits were central to the Dyak world- view - see Edwin H. Gomes, The Sea-Dyaks of Borneo (Westminster: Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts, 19 17), chap. vii. 2 (P- 75) PoNTiANAK . . . Kapoeas River, Pontianak is very near the Equator (thus 11. 1 1-14) and was the Dutch administrative centre of w. Borneo (1. 5) of which they had taken formal possession in 1818. Dutch policy in Borneo vacillated, but when British protectorates were declared over n. Borneo, Brunei and Sarawak in 1888, the Dutch took action to consolidate their claims, and in 1891 a boundary between BORNEO (KALIMANTAN) IN THE 1890s SULTANATE OF BRUNEI , NORTH BORNEO (British) Pontianak ^ KUTAI/ <$■ (former sultanate) 200 kilometres 198 EXPLANATORY NOTES districts claimed by the rival powers was formalised. The story (publ. 20 December 1890) may have taken advantage of pubhc interest in Borneo . . . Kapoeas is now spelled 'Kapuas'. 3 (p. 75) the Resident-General Although each district of Dutch Borneo was governed at different times during the nineteenth century by a Resident, and the offices of Governor and Governor-General were created in 1846, there appears never to have been a Resident-General. 4 (P- 75) reports of the half-worked diamond mines, The preferred Indonesian name for Borneo, Kalimantan, meaning 'River(s) of Precious Stones', testifies to its early reputation as a source of gold, diamonds and other stones (cf. 76:8-9). Gold mines in s. Borneo were controlled by the Chinese, and, from c. i860, by the Dutch. A report on alluvial gold as being widely available in n. Borneo was published in the Illustrated London News on 18 September 1881. 5 (P- 75) Sintang district . . . the river Kapoeas. EF's geography is accurate: European exploration of the remote interior of Borneo began in 1846; by the 1890s a Dutch administrative post had been set up in the Western Division, near the headwaters of the Kapoeas, at Putus Sibau. 6 (P- 75) roofed-in native boat ... a gobang . . . mandor . . . Dyaks. Although dug-out canoes were the Dyaks' usual means of river transport, they also built various kinds of roofed-in boats; hut gobang is probably a mistake (it is now a copper coin of small value), unlike mandor which is correctly translated. The original inhabitants of both inland and coastal regions of Borneo before the coming of Europeans, Dyaks Uve along rivers and practise rice agriculture. The nineteenth- century European imagination focussed on their reputation as head- hunters: see D. J. M. Tate, comp., Rajah Brooke's Borneo: The Nineteenth-Century World of Pirates and Head-Hunters, Orang Utan and Hombills, and Other Such Rarities as Seen through the Illustrated London News and Other Contemporary Sources (Hong Kong: John Nicholson, 1988), pp. 127-30. 7 (p. 76) a good supply of animal life . . . sporting instincts on, The orangutan and proboscis monkey were of special interest to nineteenth-century Europeans. 8 (p. 76) the coastal Malays. Mohammedan traders from the Malay Peninsula settled in coastal Borneo, possibly as early as the fourteenth century. 9 (p. 76) Drives . . . Certainly not by their forefathers. Horizontal excavations. The ancient Dyaks were expert miners of iron EXPLANATORY NOTES 199 for their tools and weapons, but seldom manufactured or used gold ornaments. They may have traded alluvial gold to the coastal sultan- ates, which manufactured jewellery under Javanese influence. 10 (p. 76) when the sultans . . . islands. 'Archaeological evidence shows that [Borneo] was well within the sphere of the Hindu coloniza- tion movement and that direct intercourse existed with India from very early times' (Graham Irwin, Nineteenth-Century Borneo: A Study of Diplomatic Rivalry, Singapore, Donald Moore Books, 1955, p. 2). Parts of Borneo were held in the ninth century by the Buddhist kingdom of Sri Vijaya in Sumatra, and in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries by the East Javanese kingdom of Majapahit. 1 1 (p. 76) Orangpooenan, or forest men, There are such small groups of forest-dwellers, but their Hindu origin (1. 24) is an invention, drawing on such archaeological discoveries as the Brahmin sacrificial posts of the fourth century found at Kutai on the e. coast. 12 (p. 76) swarm of bees In The Head-Hunters of Borneo {1881), Carl Bock describes congregations of wild bees' nests nearly two feet long on trees, observed from his boat during his river expedition in e. Borneo (p. 114). 13 (P- 77) Kambing-Mas. 'Golden goat' in present Indonesian. 14 (p. 78) chatpat or apron . . . "bagu,^^ . . . "Saki" Bock glosses tjawat as 'a long scarf which is passed round the waist half a dozen times, and the ends left hanging loosely, one in front, one behind'. He explains that it was worn by men when at home, and under the costume of a warrior {Head-Hunters of Borneo, pp. 183-5) ■ ■ ■ open-sided jacket . . . friend (Indonesian— also' Tam/iaf-wai' at 79: 1 and '/larawg^'at 79:23, which are correctly translated). 15 (p. 79) the flight of the fish-hawk Before beginning important tasks, Dyaks traditionally performed elaborate rituals based on observ- ing the calls and flights of particular birds. 16 (p. 79) blow-pipe, Another piece of accurate local colour: the blow-pipe was distinctive in Borneo because it was not made from bamboo, as elsewhere in s.e. Asia, but from ironwood or other sorts of hardwood, carved with iron tools. 17 (p. 79) '■'■Saghie," . . . forest men. The word is not listed in modern sources as the name of an ethnic group. 18 (p. 80) specimens, Pieces ofquartz or other stones containing visible gold. 19 (p. 82) prospect. A sample of ore or 'dirt' for testing; or the resulting yield of ore (OED). 200 EXPLANATORY NOTES 20 (p. 82) huge boa Borneo's ten-metre-long pythons -popularly identified with the S. American boa constrictor - fascinated Euro- peans. Deer abounded in Borneo (1. 30). 21 (p. 83) BoocYEA. The significance ofthis signature, which EF seems to have attached only to this story, is not known. Malchook's Doom-A Story of the Nicholson River 1 (p. 84) the biggest liar . . world. The bush liar was an estabhshed stereotype. Cf 90:14 and Henry Lawson, 'Stragglers': 'Every true Australian bushman must try his best to tell a bigger outback lie than the last bush-liar' {Bulletin, 27 May 1893, p. 22). 2 (p. 84) duds Belongings (colloquial). 3 (p. 85) chaffing EF deplored being chaffed (ridiculed) - see Introduction, n. 54, and cf 92:25. 4 (p. 86) my Martini Single-shot Martini-Henry breech-loading carbines were widely adopted in Australia from the 1870s, as an advance on earUer barrel-loading rifles. 5 (p. 87) old man spinifex . . . legging. Cf 97:7 and EF's description of country between Blackall and the Diamantina, crossed during the Queenslander Expedition: If anybody does not know what spinifex is like, let him imagine about five thousand knitting needles rolled up in inextricable confusion, with all the points outwards; scatter these tangles over barren stones like a newly-metalled road; and that is the sort of country we have been going through today. (Queenslander, 16 November 1878, p. 212). 6 (p. 87) a flash man . . . real old Gulf hand, Ostentatious or showy person, either a fraud or possessing specialised knowledge . . . A frequent term of approval in EF's fiction, e.g. at 90:11, and in the prose sketch, 'The Old Hand' (1887), p. 14. 7 (p. 88) big two-handed clubs . . . Nicholson Clubs, or 'waddles', and spears were the weapons most frequently used by Aborigines. 8 (p. 88) blown a government road through I.e. blown a large passage through (with a carbine) - not a recorded colloquialism. 'Government road' was the usual antonym of 'bush-track' (Joan Hughes, ed., Australian Words and their Origins, Melbourne, Oxford UP, 1989). 9 (p. 88) "possum brand," I.e. a fraudulent substitution, such as a racetrack 'ring-in'; cf to play possum - i.e. dissemble. 10 (p. 89) Bemghi. Derogatory generic term for an Aboriginal. In publishing over this pen-name 'Malchook's Doom', 'Tranter's EXPLANATORY NOTES 201 Shot', 'The Missing Super' and other contributions focussing on Aborigines, EF probably intended to emphasise his first-hand know- ledge of the subject. Tranter's Shot 1 (p. 90) Tranter's Shot. Double-trigger Tranter revolvers, designed by Wilham Tranter of Birmingham, were popular among Australian settlers from the mid-i8sos. 2 (p. 90) black atrocities. I.e. atrocities perpetrated by rather than against blacks. 3 (p. 91) the native-police-inspector, White officers com- manded the native police force; there is evidence that its actions were determined by political pressure exerted by settlers and that its pri- mary purpose was not investigation, as here, but repression. 4 (p. 92) lubra. A neutral rather than an opprobrious term for an Aboriginal woman (AND). Pompey 1 (P- 93) "let in," . . . termed, I.e. allocated camping sites on stations, as at 94:4. The women at the station were evidently concu- bines. 2 (p. 94) some trouble with the cattle Aboriginal raids on cattle are the main reason given in EF's writings for 'dispersals' and other retaliatory measures. See his letter quoted in Introduction, n. 79. 3 (P- 95) happy hunting-ground This incongruous borrowing from N. American Indian culture, like 'buried the hatchet' at 99:24, was widely adopted in Australia. The Track of the Dead 1 (p. 96) Some great general . . . courage. The 'three-o'clock in the morning courage, which Bonaparte thought was the rarest' (Henry D. Thoreau, 'Sounds' in The Illustrated Walden [1854], ed. J. Lyndon Shanley, Princeton, Princeton UP, 1973, p. 118). 2 (p. 98) my brother Jack;" EF's brother, who accompanied him to Australia, was named Jack. That the name held affectionate associa- tions for EF is suggested by his use of it in other favourable contexts, including the serial, 'Jack Essingham; or the Graves of a Household' (1875)- The Missing Super I (p. 99) outside country A standard term for remote and less populated regions. Cf 'outside camp' (105:17). 202 EXPLANATORY NOTES 2 (p. 99) frontage This term, generally designating a property abutting on a river or a body of water, acquired special importance in rural districts of low rainfall. 3 (p. loi) greenhide ropes . . . catching-rope, Untanned hides, cut into strips, were used by outback settlers for many purposes, including twisting or plaiting into ropes and flavouring soup . . . Lasso. 4 (p. loi) quarts Abbreviation of quart-pot, a tin vessel originally of a quart ( I . i htre) capacity. According to the Bulletin of 1 1 January 1902, the style favoured by boundary-riders and drovers had a handle at the side and another over the top, with a tightly-fitting pannikin-lid (P- 32)- How the Reverend Joseph Simmondsen Lost His Character 1 (p. 104) moles Trousers of moleskin (a strong cotton cloth) - the usual dress of bush workers. 2 (p. 107) the temptation of St. Anthony St Anthony {c. ad 251-356), regarded as the founder of monasticism, lived as a hermit in Egypt, where he underwent strong temptations, often represented as sexual. His story was immensely popular in the Middle Ages, and there was a revival of interest in it in the nineteenth century. 3 (p. 107) Jack Fruit. EF probably felt this punning pen-name, unique to this story, appropriate to the tropical setting. Bunthorp's Decease 1 (p. 109) "the quarters" Lodgings for stockmen and other station workers, separate from the homestead occupied by the owner or superintendent and his family. Cf 'the men's hut' (113:5). 2 (p. 109) buck-board buggy Conflation of terms. A buckboard is a light four-wheeled carriage in which a long elastic board or frame is used in place of body and springs. A buggy is a two-wheeled carriage (in USA, four-wheeled) with a single seat on a transverse spring (cf 46:20, 48:6). 3 (p. 109) "genus sundowner" Sundowners were wanderers who lived off bush hospitality. By tradition they arrived after the end of the working day, in time for tea and bed, and, once accepted, were difficult to dislodge. 'Genus' implies, 'of the animal kingdom'. Cf EF's anecdotes, 'The Gendeman Sundowner' (1888), p. 18, and 'The Swell Sundowner' (1892), p. 66, which offer parallels to the present story. 4 (p. Ill) "billy" Often appears in inverted commas until the 1 890s (AND) because felt to be a colloquial or colonial usage. EXPLANATORY NOTES 203 5 (pill) prad Horse (deprecatory British slang); also as 'bits of stuff (1. 29), an unrecorded colloquialism. 6 (p. Ill) rising five Approaching five years old. 7 (p. 113) cross-bar on the pole, Transverse piece of wood attached to the central shaft connecting the fore-carriage of the buggy to the horses' collars. 8 (p. 113) "My word!" British colloquialism widely adopted in Australia, especially in pidgin, to indicate surprise, as here, or broadly to emphasise, as at 126:28. 9 (p. 114) a picture of Carbine, Adulation of Carbine was at its height between the horse's victory in the 1 890 Melbourne Cup and his departure for England in 1895. 10 (p. 114) a photograph ... now-a-days. Australians enthusi- astically supported the development from Daguerreotype to wet-plate to, finally, dry-plate photography which was in general use by the early 1 880s. Portrait photographs were framed in light cardboard or in ornate leather cases with embossed decorations. 11 (p. 114) cap. Caprail, the top rail ofa gate or fence of a drafting pen. 12 (p. 114) bush lawyer," . . . drafting-yard . . . drafting-pole Argumentative or loquacious person - 'lives upon blow' (1. 24) - of dubious credentials but with pretentions to legal knowledge, and so potentially a problem for Deane (hence his reply, 1. 21) . . . Yard for separating a selected group of cattle from the main herd (cf 70:1-12) ... A term sometimes applied to the long pole on drafting gates in cattle pounds. The drafter, standing on a central platform, uses the pole to open and close gates. 13 (p. 116) straight off the reel. Uninterruptedly (British colloquialism). 14 (p. 117) Crown Lands Commissioner Administered Crown land, especially its alienation under leasehold or freehold agreements. EF dedicated his unpublished book, 'The New Standard Geography of Australasia', to his friend, George Ranken, formerly Commissioner of Crown Lands in Queensland. 15 (p. 118) plant Concealoneself (bush parlance). 16 (p. 123) yellow-back, 'Cheap railway novels (or "yellow- backs" as they were called after 1855, when their characteristic binding - glazed colored paper laid over boards, with an eye-catching picture on the front and advertisements on the back - was established) were the most inspired publishing invention of the era' (Richard Altick, The 204 EXPLANATORY NOTES English Common Reader: A Social History of the Mass Reading Public 1 800-1 goo, Chicago, Chicago UP, 1957, p. 299). The swell sundowner in EF's sketch of that name (1892) 'had a voracious appetite for yellow backs and light literature of all kinds' (p. 66). That Other Fellow 1 (p. 126) Duncan McIntyre According to EF's The History of Australian Exploration, an explorer of this name died in 1 865 of malarial fever in the Gulf, whilst in command of a search expedition for Leichhardt (p. 453). 2 (p. 126) breaking-bit, a roller Breaking bits consist of a straight bar or single joint mouthpiece, with 'keys' or 'players' attached in the centre, which give the horse something to move with the tongue, so that the habit of placing the tongue over the bit, which makes the horse unmanageable, does not develop. The roller is a wide, padded girth made of leather or webbing, used here to prepare a horse for a saddle. 3 (p. 126) "cockatooing" 'Cockatooing, in bush slang, consists in establishing yourself, in company with two or three other good all- round "blowers," on the cap or top rail of the horse yard, and there whiling away a pleasant hour or two, broken only by the filling and lighting of the needful pipe, in criticising any horses in the yard, and gradually working up to the inevitable yarn, until the welcome sound of the cook ringing a cracked bullock bell broke up the conference' (EF, 'The Swell Sundowner', 1892, p. 66). 4 (p. 127) old stager. Veteran or old hand, occasionally applied to animals. 5 (p. 127) "a liver," A colloquial term for pain in the midriff caused by excess drinking. 6 (p. 127) blue-blanket Swagmen traditionally wrapped their possessions in a blue-grey blanket. 7 (p. 127) a bottle of sudden-death Presumably a strongly alcohohc beverage, given with the intention of either rendering the sufferer unconscious or of curing him. Not a recorded colloquialism, but cf the present sporting term, 'sudden-death play-off, a single brief encounter which breaks a tie. 8 (p. 128) Corraville. Fictional. 9 (p. 129) brigalow Dry-country scrub consisting of Acacia trees, especially Acacia harpophylla, low-growing with a tough, fissured bark. 10 (p. 131) Flossie . . . colt In EF's story, 'Darkie' (Mitchell EXPLANATORY NOTES 205 Library, Q_A 823/F), a resourceful barmaid named Maggie steals a racehorse, to the consternation of the town of Bungleton. 1 1 (p. 132) polygonum bushes. Rough, lowshrubs, like brambles without thorns, growing near swamps. 'Polygonum' was a specialised usage of the botanic name for a genus of herbs {AND). 12 (p. 132) "the infinite torment of flies." Source unidentified. 13 (P- 133) Sturt, at the Dep6t Camp, Charles Sturt's expedition left Adelaide on 10 August 1844, and journeyed n.e., past the present site of Broken Hill to Malparinka. On 27 January 1845 the expedition became stranded at Depot Glen, near Mt Poole, as water in the surrounding creeks dried up. The explorers survived in wretched conditions until 16 July, when the coming of rain allowed some to proceed n. See EF's graphic account in The History of Australian Exploration, pp. 142—7. 14 (p. 137) And . . . gone. The climax to the story is based on the stranding of the Queenslander expedition on Cresswell Creek (see Introduction, pp. xvi-xvii). On 6 December 1878 the expedition set out w., but found no water, and the horses became distressed. EF and Hedley continued w. and s., while Briggs remained behind. Still no water was found, and the whole party turned back to Cresswell Creek, thirty-five miles to the e. They arrived at night, after abandoning two horses on the way. After an hour's rest, EF set out with water, to find one horse dead and the other dying, 'an old favourite' of his {Queenslander, 31 May 1879, p. 684). 1 5 (p. 137) Dramingo. This pseudonym, which EF claimed to be the tribal name of his Aboriginal companion {Australian Boys and Girls, I, 1895, p. 46), was attached to stories and poems published in the Queenslander in the 1 870s, and to contributions to the Queensland Punch in the early 1890s. In the Bulletin only 'The Dead Hand' (1881) and 'That Other Fellow' have it. Like the subtitle, the signature connects 'That Other Fellow' to experiences and fiction of the 1870s. The Mystery of Baines' Dog 1 (p. 139) cherchez la femme. As ^Cherchons la femme^ {lom Alexandre Dumas (1802-70), Les Mohicans de Paris (1854-55) but attributed there to Joseph Fouche (i 763-1 820) in the form 'Cherchez lafemme\ It means look for {cherchez) the cause of the trouble (i.e. a woman, who is the key to the mystery in ±is story). 2 (p. 139) "the thunder of the captains and their shouting," Job xxxix. 25. 2o6 EXPLANATORY NOTES 3 (p. 141) judgment of Solomon i Kings iii. 16-28. 4 (p. 141) j.'s P., Justices of the Peace. 5 (p. 146) pigweed . . . "salt-horse," Pigweed {Portulaca oleracea) - 'munyeroo' to Aborigines who harvested its oily, protein- rich seeds - is often mentioned in the journals of explorers and pioneers, including Burke and Wills, Leichhardt, and Rachel Henning (1826-1914). It was the most important outback vegetable for settlers, who cooked its juicy stems and leaves, and also valued it as a salad plant. Dense clusters grow on flood plains in the outback after rain . . . Not recorded as a colloquialism - probably an ironic reference to hard salted meat (also called 'salt-junk', 1. 22). In her diary entry for 27 January 1883, Caroline Creaghe records: 'Our food in camp consists of nasty dirty hairy dried salt beef . . . There are some tinned meats, but the jolting has made them uneatable' (see Introduction, p. xix). A Lucky Meeting 1 (p. 1 5 1 ) dead coolibah . . . deeply cut. This incident draws on discoveries of 'Leichhardt trees', and on tree-carving by such hard- pressed explorers as Burke and Wills. 2 (p. 151) a few withered stalks of nardoo. Clover fern (Aboriginal word for Marsilea quadrifolia). A flour (nardoo) is made by pounding the spore case of the plant between two stones, as Burke and Wills learned: cf The History of Australian Exploration, pp. 216, 220 and 418. 3 (p. 152) no registered brands . . . days." Before Queensland registration of cattle brands commenced in 1870, brands in the colony were restricted to capital letters and numbers, placed vertically. Let- ters placed horizontally, scrolled letters, and symbols such as triangles and diamonds were permitted after the register opened. 4 (P- 153) Baal This word expressed negation in AustraUan pidgin, and was a white insiders' slang term (adapted from Aboriginal Dharuk language). Appendix i — Preface 1 (p. 161) "Alike to him . . . the oar." Source unidentified. 2 (p. 161) for the nonce, For the occasion. 3 (p. 161) "RolfBoldrewood." Pseudonym of Thomas Alexan- der Brown, author oi Robbery under Arms, first published in the Sydney Mail, 1882-83. He lived in Albury as a government official 1885-95. He wrote Prefaces to four volumes, including A. B. Paterson's exceed- ingly successful anthology, The Man from Snowy River and Other Verses (1895). List of Editor's Emendations and Other Tables LIST OF EDITOR'S EMENDATIONS Emendations of the copy-text {Bui, except for 'A Lucky Meeting') are cited by page and line number and appear to the left of the square bracket. The source of the emendation is indicated by a symbol immediately next to the emended reading: Syd for The Last of Six (Sydney, 1893), Ei for Tales of the Austral Tropics (London, 1894), or Ed. for the editor. The reading in the copy-text appears to the right of the square bracket with no symbol. All states are recorded, but only the first state in which a reading appears is denoted (see Note on the Text for further explanation). The swung dash indicates a repeated word, P a new paragraph, / a line break, Om. omitted, and [...] illegible or broken type. 7:29 Macdonnell Edl\ M'Donnell 37:20 10:8 two Syd\ too 10:19 forehead Ed.^ fore-/head 38:12 14:14 light 5)/i/] ligh 39:18 14:15 ioo\..Syd\~." 39:27 17:7 semicircular Syd\ semi-/ 40:29 circular 43:18 22:1 waste around; 5j/i/] ~; ~ 44:18 23:10 oppressive 5yi] oppresive 45:5 25:8 it." £i.] ~. 5m/ the proceeds 55:27 of thesale."5'j'i]'~ 63:20 31:16 Muspius, Syd\ ~* 31:23 3X.Syd\z 64:5 32:21 laugh 5yi] augh 67:12 32:34 o'clock ^j/i] o clock 67:19 33:9 his Syd\ h s 67:35 34:11 "you.. .anything;" 5)/i] 69:29 ■■'-...-;' 5«/ "-...-";£/ 72:10 34:17 YmSyd\\m 75:1 36:9 Island. Syd\ ~ 36:20 boatshed Syd\ boat-shed too Ed.l to [for Syd and Ei to 41 :g see entry " on p. j/] it." Ed.] -.' summer. Ed.'\ ~ hesitate.?" Ed.] ~." stoicism. Ed.] ~ amour Ei] armour Elliot Ei] Elliott beside Ei] bes de trusted?" Syd] -?' days' Syd] ~ gazing 5y(/]~: is Syd] is is terror-stricken Syd] terrorstricken listener's Syd] listeners' Sandy, 5)/< south-west; Ei BLACK-BOY 5j/i2 32' "what£/ io6i Reverend Ei 33' Fred, Ei 126' stockyard-fence Ei 35' fishlike Ei 131" "That other fellow" £/ 35- pearl, Ei 139" DOG/ Prologue/ The Ei 54" said. UeEi 139' engagement Ei COMPLETE COLLATION OF 'TRANTER'S SHOT' This collation reports all variants in all printings and does not apply the silent categories specified in the Note on the Text: see pp. 3-5 for an explanation of the symbols used and the conventions of presentation. go: I Tranter's Shot.] — ./ 91:9 keeping up] maintaining Syd 5«/ TRANTER'S 91:12 native-police-inspector] SHOT. Syd native-police inspector Syd TRANTER'S SHOT Ei 91:16 get out of] extract from Syd 90:2 (For the Bulletin.)] 91:18 Ao%i\~,Syd ( .)/ Bui Om. Syd 91:19 get] obtain Syd 90:3 Tranter] ~, Syd 91:19 away!] ~. Syd 90:5 Who] Whom Syd 91:29 other. ..but] tracks of blacks 90:5 super.] superintendent Syd other than Syd 90:6 Tranter,] ~. Syd 91:30 he] the latter Syd 90:7 dog." Syd] ~: Bui 91:30 what was... was] the presence 90:9 leaving] to leave Syd of the gin sounding the death- 90:11 black-protector,] wail and Tranter's boasting black-protector and Syd were Syd 90:12 of course,] Om. Syd 91:33 thought] ~, Syd 90:19 him,] ~ Syd 91:33 saw] had seen, Syd 90:22 in] home Syd 91:34 his] his mere Syd 90:24 They] The two Syd 92:5 baulked] baffled Syd 90:25 low,] ~ Syd 92:13 shoot! Syd\ ~? Bui 90:26 boulders] boulders strewn 92:15 'em] em Ei Syd 92:18 they] they had Syd 90:27 cry] direction of the cry Syd 92:22 out] forth Syd 90:28 glass] ~, Syd 92:23 fine,] ~ Syd 91:5 him] them Syd 92:26 South] south Syd 91:9 awhile] a while Ei 92:27 BiNGHl.] Om. Syd Ul flks 0/ 1^? Austral Tropics is the first critical edition of stories by Ernest Favenc, which were first published in Sydney's Bulletin in the 1890s. Together with contributions by Henry Lawson, A.B. Paterson, Price Warung, Louis Becke and others, they played an essential part in the formation of Australia's national mythology. The stories were republished in volume form in both Sydney and London. Favenc's stories draw their vivid realism from the author's twenty years' experience as an explorer and drover in north Queensland Some are romances of mateship and self-sacri- fice, while others are comedies that celebrate the virtuosity of bush tricksters. However, the most characteristic stories return to the theme of death in the desert, mangroves and caves. Their obsessive horror and ugliness are suggestive of tensions in the national identity, as it emerged in an alien environment, to confront many kinds of racial and cultural differences. The detailed and exemplary scholarship in this volume helps to open up this important question in ways that were previously inaccessible In Tales of Austral Tropics, Favenc's extensive revisions of the stories, as he reshaped them for different audiences, are included in full, together with the historical introduction that regathers for the modern reader the contexts in which the stories first appeared. It also includes maps, extensive ex- planatory notes and a bibliography 9& Cheryl Taylor is a senior lecturer in the English Department at lames Cook University of North Queensland in Townsville, where she teaches Medieval English language and literature, and women's fiction. She is the author of Tke Last Explorer (1983), a biography of Favenc. She is also co-editor of Latin WntiH^s, by the fourteenth-century contemplative writer Walter Hilton (1987), and was formerly an editor of the journal, LiNQ (Literature in North Queensland). ^•^•?'-- ISBN 0-86840-381-4 780868"403816 Front cover: Ludwig Becker Border of the Mud-desert near Desolation Camp March 9 i861. La Trobe Collection, State Library of Victoria