L I B R.ARY 
 
 OF THE 
 UN IVLR5ITY 
 or ILLINOIS 
 
 &Z5
 
 i vd 
 
 5
 
 THE 
 
 EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 THE 
 
 EMIGRANT FAMILY 
 
 '^i)t S)torg of an Australian ^ttiltx, 
 
 BY THE 
 
 AUTHOR OF ^' SETTLERS AND CONVICTS." 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. L 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 SMITH, ELDER AND CO., 65, CORNHILL. 
 
 1849.
 
 London • 
 
 Printed by Stewart and Mukbav, 
 
 Old Batley.
 
 8^3 
 
 v.-l 
 
 TO 
 CAPTAIN MACONOCHIE, E.N., K.H., 
 
 IN TESTIMONY OE 
 
 THE SOUNDNESS OF THE PUINCIPLES HE HAS ENDEaVOUEED 
 
 TO INTRODUCE INTO PENAL DISCIPLINE, 
 
 AND IN TOKEN OF 
 
 THE RESPECT THAT OUGHT TO BE ACCORDED TO 
 
 HIS SELF-DENIAL 
 
 IN THE PAINFUL TASK OF EXPERIMENTING THEM, 
 
 Cl)ig Cale 
 
 IS INSCRIBED BY 
 
 -s? THE AUTHOE. 
 
 ^
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 The main design in the composition of these 
 volumes, and that to which every other has been 
 carefully subordinated, was the delineation of the 
 actual life of an Emigrant Family, and the scenery 
 about their homestead in the Australian colonies, 
 in the middle of the nineteenth century. Of 
 course, all must not expect to meet with a Martin 
 Beck for an overseer : but with the single excep- 
 tion of the introduction of a character necessary 
 to furnish the tale with sufficient of plot to interest 
 the lovers of romance, everything exhibited is a 
 simple copy from actual daily life. 
 
 The use, moreover, which I have made of the 
 character of Beck will be found a most legitimate 
 and important one : that of exhibiting to the new 
 settler the various great errors which may be 
 fallen into, and must be guarded against. For, 
 in fact, I have merely concentrated in him singly, 
 what the settler may easily enough meet with in 
 a more dissipated form at the hands of several. 
 
 Statistical information could not, of course, be 
 introduced into a work like the present : but all 
 who desire to trace things into more minute
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 detail have now an authority to resort to, as sound 
 and at as cheap a rate as cotild be desired. I 
 refer to the various publications of Mr. Sidney. 
 I never had the pleasure of meeting with Mr, 
 Sidney, but it affords me much gratification to 
 bear testimony to the value of his works. They 
 are the only books I have met with in which I 
 could recognise bush life as I saw it myself during 
 sixteen years' residence in the colony. The 
 " Australian Hand-Book" of that gentleman 
 ought to be in every free emigrant's hand as 
 he makes the voyage ; and " The Emigrant's 
 Journal" could not be surpassed for practical 
 utility. The editor's weekly replies to questions 
 sent him afford the most precise and correct guid- 
 ance on all points to the intending emigrant. 
 
 The geographical features of the country are 
 given exactly in the present tale, except in the 
 mere instance of the particular spot at which the 
 family is located. The reasons for that exception, 
 and its propriety, will be obvious to every reflecting 
 person. 
 
 Should the reader accord these volumes a full 
 perusal, I render him the most valuable return 
 in my power: — I wish him as pure and ample 
 a pleasure as I found myself in making the 
 acquaintance of the ladies of the tale. 
 
 THE AUTHOR OF "SETTLERS AND CONVICTS." 
 
 {KnighVs Monthly Vol. May 1847.) 
 
 Feb. 7, 1849.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Pack 
 New Settlers and Australians. — Looking for Land. — 
 
 Lieutenant Bracton and his Family ... 1 
 
 CHAPTER IL • 
 
 Cattle Driving. — A Rest in the Bush. — An Australian 
 
 Fog.— " The Rocky Springs" . . . . 19 
 
 CHAPTER IIL 
 
 Preparations for taking possession of the Farm.— Hir- 
 ing Hands.— Martni Beck, the Overseer . . 35 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Starting of the Party. — The Dl'ay bogged. — John 
 Thomas, the Bullock-driver.— A Visit from the 
 Natives.— Finishing the Hut .... 53
 
 X CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Page 
 Arrival of the Ladies at " the Rocky Springs."— A 
 neighbourly visit. — Police Magistrate.— Morgan 
 Brown, the Stockman . * . . . .68 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 The Township of Ghiagong. — The Jew Storekeeper. — 
 
 The young Jewess. — Rachael at home . . 97 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Coolarama Creek Station.— The Stock-yard. — A " Shi- 
 veau" at the Hut.—" Whacking the Blunt."— 
 Beck's History 114 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 " The Musquito Fleet."— The " Little- Bee."— Trip to 
 Broken Bay. — Brisbane Water. — Reuben Kable's 
 Farm.— The " Daisy of the Bay."— Mary Kable 
 at Home. — A Forsaken Farm. — A Tete-a-tete. — 
 The Old Nurse 133 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Beck's tactics. — Shearing and Harvest. — Keeping 
 Christmas in the Bush. — John Thomas and 
 Biddy.— The Jewess.— Beck's trap for the Welsh- 
 man 174
 
 CONTENTS. xi 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Page 
 
 The Constable's charge. — The Welshman in a scrape. — 
 Biddy doing battle. — Marianna's plea. — Mr. Hur- 
 ley and the ladies. — The Welshman released.. . 214 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Harvest at Broken Bay.— Willoughby's " Clearers."— 
 Naming the Sloop.—" The Daisy of the Bay."— 
 Mary Kable and her new friends . . . 236 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 The Cattle-stealers in danger of Detection. — The Bul- 
 lock-driver shepherding.— Aversion of Cattle to 
 Sheep.— Branding Cattle.— A trap for the Welsh- 
 man 253
 
 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 "New Settlers and Australians. — Looking for Land. — 
 Lieutenant Bracton and his Family. 
 
 On the track from Sydney to Port Philip, through 
 the interior of Australia, before it emerges from 
 the well-settled districts into the intermediate 
 wilds, there stands a neat and comfortable house 
 of entertainment, long known as Lupton's Inn; 
 so called after the proprietor and host, a steady- 
 but enterprising Australian, by whom it was 
 established. In the aspect of the country imme- 
 diately within sight, there is nothing remarkable 
 to the English eye ; the newest emigrant might 
 easily suppose himself on the borders of an 
 English country village. Here, a level, well- 
 fenced field exhibits tokens of the husbandman's 
 toils ; there, the primeval forest, without any very 
 striking features, borders the road-side; and the 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 Z THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 straight, broad, level road itself, made under tlie 
 direction of the Colonial surveyors, by convict 
 gangs, competes with our best roads around the 
 British metropolis. If anything gives a feature 
 of Australian character to the scene, it is the 
 cloudlessness of the deep blue sky, and the rather 
 ojDpressive heat of the atmosphere. 
 
 On opposite sides of the equator, the seasons of 
 the year are, of course, reversed. For several 
 weeks after the December midsummer of the 
 colony, glowing days occur: days on which the 
 strong westerly winds, blowing from the parched 
 wastes of the interior, render travelling more than 
 ordinarily toilsome. On the evening of such a 
 day, about an hour before sun-down, there rode 
 up to the verandah of the road-side inn an elderly 
 man of portly presence, with the bearing of an 
 English country gentleman, accompanied by a 
 younger, apparently his son. The more youthful 
 traveller had just so much of the aspect and 
 manners of a sailor, as a seafaring life usually im- 
 presses upon men of good breeding and education. 
 These were Lieutenant Bracton and his son 
 Willoughby, on their way from Port Philip to 
 Sydney, 
 
 Scarcely were the horses relieved of the w^eight 
 of their riders, which in the case of the elder was 
 by no means insignificant, when a heavy drove of
 
 THE AUSTRALIANS. 3 
 
 cattle came tramping and jostling each other 
 from the opposite direction ; the loud and heavy 
 cracks of a stock-whip fell thick and fast on the 
 ear, mingled with the quick barking of several 
 collies, and the occasional "Yho, ho, ho!" of a 
 horseman, as he rode in the rear of the horned 
 mob, and urged them onward toward the inn. 
 The host, forgetting his newly-arrived guests, at 
 the well-known sound, was in an instant out in 
 front of the verandah. 
 
 The Australians, we must here remark, are 
 growing up a race by themselves; fellowship of 
 country has already begun to distinguish them 
 and bind them together in a very remarkable 
 manner. Whenever they come into contact with 
 each other, even when considerable difference of 
 rank exists, this sympathy operates strongly : 
 there is no attempt either to check or conceal it. 
 After an instant's survey, the host, a fine-looking 
 and respectable man, well to do in the world, 
 turned suddenly round to one of his men exclaim- 
 ing, " Reuben Kable from Broken Bay ! — what a 
 mob of kangaroos he 's got ! " then hastily 
 motioning the man to throw down the slip rails of 
 the fence, he advanced into the middle of the road, 
 and, facing the rushing drove, he waved his broad- 
 leafed straw hat before them, and having checked 
 their headlong career, turned them in through the 
 
 b2
 
 4 THE EMIGRANT FA:MILY. 
 
 open panel to their night's resting-place. Their 
 driver was now riding leisurely behind, wheeling 
 his practised horse, and flourishing the eleven-foot 
 thong of his short-handled stock-whij), as one 
 or another of the beasts turned and strove to 
 rush back down the road ; bringing it mto the 
 herd again with a touch from the hard hide-lash, 
 that sent the pulverized skin and hair of the beast 
 flying up like smoke. 
 
 " Where did you get that mob from, Reuben?" 
 inquired the host ; his good-humoured smile of old 
 acquaintanceship mingling with a slight satirical 
 laugh, at the wild, raw-boned aspect of a large 
 portion of the drove. 
 
 " Everywhere ; from Brisbane Water to Man- 
 grove Creek," replied the young stockman. "Some 
 of them have never been in a yard since they were 
 calved : I could never get them out of the moun- 
 tains before. But the fire swept all the grass off just 
 before Christmas, and they've got as tame as dogs; 
 so I thought it was a good chance for getting 
 them up to Manaroo. Eighteen months there 
 will make them look very different. Is the feed 
 good?" 
 
 " Never better, when I came down : that 's a 
 month ago." 
 
 " There 's been some Yerj hot weather since 
 that," said the Australian, inquiringly.
 
 A " NATIVE SETTLER. 5 
 
 " They 've had good thunder-showers with it.'* 
 The new comer bowed to the two travellers with 
 the air of a person used to good society, and, 
 throwing himself easily off his horse, wound the 
 long thong of his whip, in the customary way, up 
 and down the myrtle handle, and flinging it under 
 the verandah, proceeded to unbridle his horse and 
 take off the saddle. The animal, at a friendly 
 pat from his rider, swung round and walked off 
 to his accustomed grazing ground. 
 
 Reuben Kable was the possessor of consider- 
 able property in horned cattle, and the resident 
 and owner of one of those small but first-rate 
 farms given to settlers by free grant in the 
 early days of the colony. His homestead was at 
 Broken Bay, a port some twenty miles or more 
 to the north of Port Jackson. He exhibited a 
 more than ordinarily full and forcible manifesta- 
 tion of the common characteristics of his coun- 
 trymen, through possessing more than ordinary 
 intellectual endowments. His height was con- 
 siderably over six feet ; his person slim, but 
 remarkably vigorous and active ; his face sym- 
 metrical, and just saved from being fair by a slight 
 tint of tan ; his hair brown ; his eye of that pecu- 
 liar grey which in the hours of common thought is 
 so unsuggestive and pretenceless, but glitters and 
 flashes under strong excitement like the crystals
 
 O THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 of a mineral in the sunlight. The utter, yet not 
 discourteous, nonchalance of his race, however, 
 would have been regarded by a stranger as his 
 most distinctive characteristic. 
 
 Lieutenant Bracton and his son forgot the 
 weariness of their long hot journey in the cordial 
 salutation of the tall, handsome, quaker-like 
 native, who frankly introduced himself to them, 
 according to the custom of his countrymen — 
 
 " Are you on the road before me, gentlemen, 
 or going down the country?" inquired the Aus- 
 tralian . 
 
 " From Melbourne," said Willoughby Bracton. 
 " We have been in search of land ; but my father 
 is not fully satisfied with any we have met with 
 hitherto." 
 
 " Newly arrived in the colony, then?" 
 
 " About three months ago." 
 
 " But you can find no land unoccupied here- 
 abouts — scarcely, indeed, for the last hundred 
 miles you have come." 
 
 " The fact is," said the lieutenant, " we are 
 now going on to Sydney, almost without any other 
 object than curiosity to see your chief city. We 
 may avail ourselves when there of the opportu- 
 nity of returning to Port Philip by water ; but 
 we have thought nothing about land for some 
 days past."
 
 COOKERY IN THE INTERIOR. 7 
 
 " You have had some heavy showers on the 
 road, I suppose ? I judge by the thunder-showers 
 at Manaroo. The Port Philip track lies off to 
 the interior of the Warragong Mountains as 
 Manaroo does seaward of them. The thunder 
 weather mostly gathers there. Probably you 
 know them only as they are named on the maps 
 as the Australian Alps." 
 
 " We had two or three slight thunder-storms," 
 replied Willoughby ; " but they were all in the 
 day-time. My father is an old sailor, and the dis- 
 appointment of his search annoys him a great 
 deal more than the weather." 
 
 A very short time suffices to provide a dinner 
 in the interior of the colony. The quarter of 
 beef, or side of mutton, or cask of salted pork, is 
 generally at hand ; and a fresh junk of wood on 
 the hearth soon brings the fryingpan into a state of 
 service. A steak off the rump of one of mine host's 
 best four-year-old bullocks, killed a day or two 
 before, soon steamed savory on the parlour table. 
 A new damper, or cake of flour baked without 
 yeast, sweet as a nut, and smelling only of the pure 
 wheat, and hot out of the wood-ashes of the 
 hearth, but clean as if baked in an oven, accom- 
 panied it. A bottle of porter, and a couple of 
 glasses for the English guests, together with the 
 tea-tray and its apparatus, in compliance with the
 
 8 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 already-known taste of the Australian traveller, 
 completed the preparations : preparations, the 
 seasonableness of which was soon well vindicated 
 "by the travellers' appetites. It is very often the 
 end of his day's stage that determines the hour of 
 the bushman's dinner. The mellow light of the 
 setting sun lay golden and still, and almost holy, 
 upon forest and field, as Lieutenant Bracton and 
 his son, and Reuben Kable, walked out again to 
 enjoy, they their cigars, and he his short waist- 
 coat pocket pipe, in the cool air, under the 
 verandah. 
 
 *' If my knowledge and advice. Lieutenant 
 [Bracton, can be of any service to you in your 
 undertaking, either in selecting your land or 
 making your other arrangements," said the Aus- 
 tralian, " I shall contribute them with a great 
 deal of pleasure. I hear at times from your 
 countryfolks that they consider us a very plain, 
 rough race ; but I believe we have a good repu- 
 tation for uprightness. To say that our know- 
 ledge of colonial" {Anglice, Australian) '^ matters 
 is tolerably sound, is to say but little in our praise. 
 If we do not understand our own country and its 
 affairs, what should we understand?" 
 
 In reply to the thanks of his new acquaint- 
 ances, and their expression of eagerness to have 
 the advantage of his advice, the colonist went on
 
 CHOICE OF LAND. 9 
 
 to what was probably the pith and motive of his 
 communication : — 
 
 " It has struck me several times, since I heard 
 your means and wishes explained more fully 
 than you stated them at first, that a farm which I 
 see stands advertised in one of the Sydney papers 
 for sale by private contract, would suit you, in 
 the first instance, rather better than new land." 
 " The price of course much higher?" 
 " No : I have no doubt you may get it for ready 
 cash at very little, if any, more than the Govern- 
 ment upset price. The owner is moving his stock 
 across to the Port Philip district ; and from what 
 1 know of him, I dare say that if he can get any- 
 thing like his own money by private contract, 
 he '11 jump at the chance — that is, with the cash 
 in hand — rather than delay or go to public auction. 
 But if you like to persevere and find a tract of 
 Government land within the colony of New 
 South Wales, there 's no doubt but you can do it. 
 You can always ascertain at the surveyor-gene- 
 ral's office where such land lies ; and any stock- 
 keeper about the part will show you the best run,^' 
 and the best spot for a station, for five pounds : I 
 could get a hundred runs found for me in a 
 couple of months for five pounds a piece. But 
 
 * Any tract of land for depasturing stock.
 
 10 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 I should recommend the chance I was telling 
 you of." 
 
 " What quantity of land is there V 
 " Just the two sections ; twelve hundred and 
 eighty acres : that is plenty large enough for a 
 first farm. As your stock increases, you can 
 always form stations further out. One of the 
 most important things is to get good water at a 
 home-station ; and at the Rocky Springs, the 
 station I have been speaking about, there is 
 some of the best water in the country, and the 
 springs never fail in the greatest droughts. 
 There is another circumstance of the locality 
 which to my mind greatly increases the value 
 of land thereabouts — it is not above sixty or 
 seventy miles from a good harbour. It is on the 
 upper part of the Morrumbidgee River. At pre- 
 sent there is no road from that to the sea, pass- 
 able by drays, because there is no large settle- 
 ment on that part of the coast ; but with several 
 good harbours, and some of the richest soil in the 
 colony on that part of the coast, in course of time 
 there must be. Active colonization had just 
 extended about so far along the seaside when the 
 southern settlements came into notice ; and as 
 soon as it was found that the interior could be 
 traversed to them, off everybody went down the 
 tract to Port Philip, and colonization along the
 
 CHOICE OF LAND. 11 
 
 coast almost ceased. But when the country 
 behind Port Philip comes to be pretty well filled 
 up, the next thing will probably be the extension 
 of the colonies coastwise, and along the interior 
 to meet each other ; and whenever that takes 
 place, there will certainly be a great main road 
 made from the heads of the Morrumbidgee, which 
 are almost midway between the two colonies, to 
 the coast : settlers will never travel with their 
 wool-teams two or three hundred miles to 
 a shipping place, when Bateman's Bay and 
 Twofold Bay are within half or a third of the 
 distance." 
 
 " Your description of the land and its situa- 
 tion, Mr. Kable," said Willoughby, " impresses 
 me very much in favour of it." 
 
 " If you should finally fix on it," rejoined his 
 informant, " I think, by seeing the agent in Syd- 
 ney pretty early, you may make almost sure of it. 
 Money is very scarce ; and I know the proprietor 
 is one of those restless people that, now he has 
 got the notion in his head of going to the Port 
 Philip country, nothing will content him till he 
 gets there. At the same time, it 's ten to one if 
 any one makes an offer for the land, except some 
 of those fellows in Sydney who buy to sell again ; 
 and they '11 never give him cash : or, if they do, 
 they '11 want it at about half value."
 
 12 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 "Who is the agent?" inquired Lieutenant 
 Bracton. 
 
 " I really did not take notice ; but I dare say 
 they have the paper in-doors. You'll find it 
 advertised as ' The Rocky Springs.' Are you 
 a^yare whether there is likely to be any change 
 in the Regulations — the Land Regulations?" 
 
 " I believe not," said the lieutenant. " The 
 British Government takes its ground slowly and 
 surely ; and, such being the case, ought not to 
 give way to every passing wish for innovation." 
 
 "Ah! indeed!" exclaimed the Australian, wdth 
 an unmistakeable alteration of tone and manner. 
 " I recollect hearing of the time when free grants 
 of land were the custom of this country ; and then, 
 although there seldom lay a dozen three-masted 
 vessels in the waters of Sydney Cove at once, 
 and the voyage was often spun out to five or six 
 months, we had rich emigrants flocking here in 
 shoals. Plenty of money came to the colony ; 
 we had plenty of customers for our herds : every- 
 thing went ahead. Now it takes all an emi- 
 grant's capital to purchase his land." 
 
 " That may be very true, sir," replied Lieu- 
 tenant Bracton. " Meantime, we can only act on 
 things as they are, not as they used to be." 
 
 " But you forget, Mr. Kable," said Willoughby, 
 " that the proceeds of the land sales are applied
 
 LAND REGULATIONS. 13 
 
 to the conveyance of labourers to the colony, 
 without whom the land would be worth nothing." 
 
 " I confess, sir," said the native, ** that, coming 
 from the parent community, you gentlemen ought 
 to understand the business better than I do : in- 
 deed, I cannot comprehend it at all. In the first 
 place (though I do not lay great stress on that), 
 when these labourers reach here, we have to pay 
 them from the time they begin to work ; then, in 
 the next (which I lay every stress upon), I j^ay 
 for my section of six hundred and forty acres, just 
 six hundred and forty pounds. One section of 
 land will feed one — and only one — flock of sheep ; 
 and that one flock of sheep is one man's — and 
 only one man's — work. Well, the cost of a single 
 male emigrant's passage from the British Islands, 
 to these colonies is eighteen or twenty pounds. 
 Twenties in six hundred and forty, there are 
 thirty-two. Now, then, have I paid my six 
 hundred and forty pounds for that one man's 
 passage, or have I paid the passage of thirty- 
 two labourers; when I only get, and only want, 
 the one?" 
 
 " It certainly has a very anomalous look. I 
 never saw the principle in that light before," 
 replied Willoughby. 
 
 " I will admit, that my statement is made 
 broadly," continued Reuben Kable, " and that
 
 14 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 there are circumstances that modify slightly its 
 bearing. For instance : this one flock of sheep 
 requires half the labour of a second man as hut- 
 keeper and night watchman, besides hurdles and 
 wool-sheds, and team-drivers for the conveyance 
 of their wool to a port : all which together, how- 
 ever, would not make up more than fully the 
 labour of the second emigrant. And also, it 
 may be added that land is obtainable for grazing 
 without purchase, on rent. But, after all, in a 
 vast proportion of cases the hardship of the 
 arrangement to a man of limited capital remains. 
 In fact, it comes to this : the large stockholder 
 can push his flocks out into ground rented for 
 almost a nominal sum, but the owner of one or 
 two flocks has no need to go beyond his home- 
 stead, which is purchased at this enormous rate ; 
 so that the little stockholder is paying for the 
 conveyance of the great stockholder's labourers 
 to the colony. My neighbour, with his hundred 
 flocks on ground rented for almost nothing, is 
 shepherding his flocks with the other fifty or 
 sixty men conveyed to the colony at the cost 
 of the twelve hundred and eighty pounds I paid 
 for my run of two sections, for my two first and, 
 as yet, only flocks." 
 
 As the speaker ceased, he knocked the ashes 
 out of his pipe, and restoring it to its usual place
 
 CATTLE BY NIGHT. 15 
 
 in his waistcoat pocket, walked down to bis cattle. 
 Meanwhile Lieutenant Bracton, during the re- 
 marks of the Australian, had silently withdrawn 
 himself to the other end of the verandah, where 
 he stood smoking his cigar. The moon was shining 
 with all that brilliancy of light that renders it so 
 remarkable an object as it glides through the 
 lovely skies of the colony, and a plentiful dew was 
 already glistening on the rails, as the young bush- 
 man laid his arms upon them, and scrutinized his 
 herd. Some were prone, sleepily chewing the 
 cud ; others stood motionless alongside the fences ; 
 occasionally some crusty old cow butted away 
 with rude horn a strange calf that came wander- 
 ing in its waywardness up to her side ; and now 
 and then one would thrust forward its head, as if 
 to see whether the rails that held them in duress 
 were about to be taken down. 
 
 As Reuben Kable recurred to the remark of 
 Lieutenant Bracton in vindication of the parent 
 country, followed by silent withdrawal as his 
 strictures had become more pointed, the feeling 
 passed through his mind — " I hope I have not 
 offended the old gentleman : he seems a fine 
 manly old chap. At that instant a hand was laid 
 upon his shoulder. 
 
 " I have been settling it with my father," said 
 Willoughby, who now stood beside him, " to turn
 
 16 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 my horse's head and ride back with you as far as 
 you go toward ' the Rocky Springs,' and * take a 
 lunar ' at them. My father will go on to Sydney, 
 and hear what instructions the agent has." 
 
 " You could not do a better thing;" rej^lied 
 Reuben. " My cattle travel very wild ; some of 
 them are off down every gully they see : — you can 
 ride up to my station with me ; and stick to the 
 tail of 'em, while I keep 'em out of the bush. 
 And then I '11 ride back by the Morrumbidgee 
 and show you the station at ' the Rocky Springs. '" 
 
 In depicting the various characteristics of the 
 colony and its different classes, no primary and 
 contradistinguishing features must be overlooked. 
 The reader may observe here a little trait of the 
 Australian character — thrift. If two birds can be 
 killed by a stone, the Australian is never content 
 to kill but one. It must, however, be added, that 
 this thrift is rarely accompanied by what we call 
 duplicity : it results more from a habit of economy 
 than from selfishness. 
 
 The proposed arrangement appeared as desir- 
 able to Lieutenant Bracton, as it was agreeable to 
 his son : it was therefore determined upon as the 
 next day's course of the travellers. 
 
 The family of Lieutenant Bracton consisted of 
 his wife, his son Willoughby, and a younger son 
 who remained behind in England studying for
 
 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 17 
 
 the medical profession ; together with two young- 
 ladies : the younger his only daughter Marianna, 
 the elder an orphan niece named Katharine. 
 
 Some years had elapsed since Lieutenant Bracton 
 retired from the Royal Navy for the express pur- 
 pose of becoming a settler in these colonies. But 
 the project, unexpectedly delayed by family occur- 
 rences, was now only in course of being carried out. 
 Previously to his retirement, Lieutenant Bracton 
 had for some years been in command of one of 
 the smaller vessels of the navy; and consider- 
 able periods of Willoughby's boyhood were spent 
 with his father at sea. His latter years, up to the 
 commencement of the tale, were passed chiefly in 
 the whaling ships of the Greenland seas. During 
 that time, the young man had acquired — more 
 through success, perhaps, than extraordinary 
 economy — a handsome little capital of his own, in 
 addition to some bequests of relatives. The family 
 funds, on the other hand, had on the whole dimi- 
 nished ; increasing, proportionately as they did so, 
 the solicitude of its heads, and their desire to found 
 an independent home of progressive promise for 
 their children. For it may be further added, that 
 Katharine Bracton, though only a niece, had 
 always been regarded as one of their own children 
 by her uncle and aunt. Her father, Lieutenant 
 Bracton's elder and sole brother, dying on a 
 
 VOL. I. c
 
 18 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 I 
 
 foreign station, and her mofener soon afterwards, 
 Mrs. Bracton had taken the little orphan, and 
 soon became fondly attached to her charge. Such 
 was the little cluster of human life that had now 
 betaken themselves to the enterprise of founding 
 a home at the antipodes.
 
 STOCK DRIVING. 19 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Cattle Driving. — A Rest in the Bush. — An Australian Fog. 
 ~" The Rocky Springs." 
 
 Another dazzling morning broke out from the 
 east, speedily chasing the chill and dew of the 
 moonlit night. By the time the sun was two 
 hours high, its beams were hot and its light a 
 blaze ; and myriads of the insect world filled the 
 ear with their low continuous hum, which swells 
 fuller and fuller until it begins to cease, almost 
 suddenly, under the intense heat of noon. 
 
 The driving of a hundred and hfty head of 
 lean cattle between two and three hundred miles 
 through a parched country is a serious charge. 
 The young Australian's breakfast was completed 
 before his companions had well begun theirs, 
 so that, by the time Willoughby was ready to 
 mount, the drove was straggling loosely but im- 
 patiently up the road. Their driver with dif- 
 ficulty held in his strong stock-horse (which mani- 
 fested no less impatience to be off), shifting 
 himself restlessly in the saddle, as he lingered. 
 
 c2
 
 20 THE EMIGFwANT FAMILY. 
 
 talking with his countryman on the road in 
 front, and throwing alternate glances toward the 
 cattle, and toward the door whence his companion 
 was to appear. With no little satisfaction Reu- 
 ben Kable saw the Englishman's foot in the 
 stirrup at last; and with a rough " good-day, 
 captain," to the old weather-beaten tar they were 
 leaving behind, and a nod to the host, he gave 
 his horse the head, and, slightly bending forward 
 over the horse's neck to gain power, he gave a 
 three-quarter swing round of the long thong 
 above his head, and back it came with a crack 
 like a rifle. " Hey, hey, hey ! yo-ho ! Here, 
 Nance, Nance, twenty-dogs-in-one! put 'em to- 
 gether : fetch 'em out, good bitch !" shouted the 
 Australian, and in a minute the whole mob were 
 rushing and jostling again along the road, and 
 kicking up the cloud of dust that furnishes the 
 stock-driver with one of the principal parts of 
 his professional avocations, that of chewing sand 
 all day. " Now, my lad, " he cried to Wil- 
 loughby ; who, following for the first time in his 
 life such a blindfold chase, strove to keep up to 
 the tail of the cattle without running into them ; 
 " we must make Mittagong, if these poor beasts 
 are to have any dinner." In another minute, 
 cattle, and horsemen, and dust swept rapidly 
 round an elbow of the bush ; and the lieutenant
 
 STOCK-DRIVING. 21 
 
 saw nothing but the dingy white cloud as it rose 
 and swept away on the wind. 
 
 The old gentleman soon afterwards ordered his 
 horse, and rode leisurely on towards Sydney, with 
 considerably more satisfaction than he had felt for 
 some time. His family had now been nearly three 
 months in Melbourne, and the agent whom he had 
 entrusted to discover for him a tract of land worth 
 purchasing, was yet unsuccessful; probably be- 
 cause Lieutenant Bracton also rented of him the 
 cottage he was occupying in the town. Willoughby 
 had suggested a personal tour of inspection ; but 
 the further they advanced into the interior, the 
 more sterile and unsatisfactory everything ap- 
 peared to Europeans, unused to the scorched 
 appearance of Australian vegetation in the sum- 
 mer months. At length the names of Yass, and 
 Argyle, and Sydney, came to be mentioned by the 
 traveller's they met, as places so near, that they 
 felt the inclination to pursue the journey forward, 
 and at least inspect the elder colony before finally 
 settling in the new. 
 
 From Lupton's Inn to the fine flats at the foot 
 of the Mittagong range, where Reuben Kable 
 intended to rest his cattle during the heat of the 
 day, is something above thirteen, miles. In some 
 parts the road passes over ground full of loose 
 stone, which, pulverized by the heat and the
 
 22 
 
 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY, 
 
 crush of feet and vehicles, becomes in summer a 
 thick Led of hot dust ; in others steep hills add 
 to the toil of travelling, and almost the whole 
 way a close bush borders the road on both sides, 
 rendering the air stagnant and sultry. Some- 
 what less than three hours' exertion, however, 
 brought the horsemen down into the flats, stretch- 
 ing far away in open plains to the left. No 
 longer urged by dog and man, the weary drove 
 relaxed their pace, and, turning off the road, 
 wandered slowly on in straggling and broken 
 groups toward the spot to which their instinct drew 
 them for water. Willoughby, following his com- 
 panion's example, dismounted in the shade of the 
 trees ; which here, rooted in rich ground and sup- 
 plied with a plenitude of moisture, sustain spread- 
 ing heads of the thickest foliage, that furnish the 
 wayfarer with the most delightful resting-place. 
 
 The horses were soon unsaddled and unbridled: 
 not, however, without being first hobbled. A 
 mounted bushman's accoutrements are his horse's 
 hobbles, or else a long tethei' rope, which is 
 coiled round the animal's neck when travelling ; 
 a good blanket or a cloak, made of opossum 
 skins sewn together, to the size of about eight 
 or nine feet by seven, and capable, when sound 
 and doubled, of turning off a night's rain; a tin 
 quart pot, and sundry bags containing tea, sugar,
 
 A DINNER IN THE BUSH. 
 
 23 
 
 "damper," and beef. The quart pot is generally 
 strapped to the saddle in front, on one side ; the 
 hobbles on the other; the ration-bags hanging 
 across ; and the blanket, or opossum cloak, care- 
 fully formed into a long hard roll, and fastened 
 sometimes before and sometimes behind, is bent 
 over the horse's back. The tinder-box, or its 
 modern substitute the lucifer match-box, is in- 
 variably stowed in the most dry and secure 
 place the owner can find for it upon his own 
 person. 
 
 AVilloughby was already bushman enough to 
 recollect his portion of the duties, when he saw his 
 companion busy in kindling a fire and gathering 
 the fuel ; and by the time the sticks were blazing^ 
 the two quart pots were filled, ready to be 
 placed in front of the fire on the windward side. 
 In ten minutes more might be seen the Austra- 
 lian (who felt to a certain extent bound to enact 
 the part of head-cook, in consideration of the less 
 inferior proficiency of his fellow-traveller) sitting 
 tailor-fashion in front of the fire, watching intently 
 for the full bubble of the water, and directly it 
 showed itself dropping carefully into the pot a 
 capacious handful of tea. The click of the open- 
 ing pocket-knives followed, and the meal was 
 begun: the dogs standing round imploring, as 
 earnestly and appealingly as they can by silence
 
 24 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 and steadfast gazing, their share]of their master's 
 provision. 
 
 For a couple of hours the bushmen rested and 
 refreshed themselves : the hearty meal, the pipe, 
 and a yarn, soon while away so much time beneath 
 a shady tree of a hot day. Whilst Willoughby 
 tied up the bags and refastened all to the saddles, 
 Reuben Kable took his whip and walked round 
 the cattle, turning them along the road. Revived 
 by their rest and feed, men and horses and dogs 
 now went on at a lively pace for the range. By 
 sun-down it was passed, upwards of twelve miles 
 further on the whole accomplished, and the ' mob' 
 safely paddocked for the night. 
 
 Having now given the reader a sufficient sketch 
 of the customs of stock-driving, it would be 
 wearisome to follow the travellers step by step. 
 On the road to Manaroo Plains, a stock-yard or 
 paddock may be secured for the safe custody of 
 the drove every night ; but on the tracts to the 
 far-out districts in some directions, the driver is 
 compelled occasionally to camp in the bush and 
 watch the cattle all night. In such cases, how- 
 ever, there is generally a second hand, and the 
 night is divided in two watches between them. 
 Several fires are sometimes lit at the mouth of a 
 ravine, girt round by rocks too steep to be scaled 
 by the cattle, and the drivers sleep by the fires,
 
 MANAROO PLAINS. 25 
 
 encompassed by their dogs ; the beasts are then 
 as secure as if in a yard. So much trouble is in- 
 volved in the recovery of cattle which stray away 
 on a journey, far from their own run or grazing 
 ground, that stockmen omit no precaution or 
 vigilance to prevent it. The beasts generally 
 make back, in course of time to their own run ; 
 but they return very leisurely : sometimes taking 
 six weeks in traversing homewards only as much 
 ground as they were driven over in as many days ; 
 never taking the road, but wandering through all 
 the green spots they can find adjacent to their 
 route ; luxuriating for a couple of days in a retired 
 grassy plat here, then crossing a range and linger- 
 ing awhile in some rich secluded nook at its 
 base ; and so on to the end of their progress home- 
 ward. 
 
 Reuben Kable's object in removing his herd, 
 was partly to rescue them from the wild condi- 
 tion into which they had got, through running 
 amongst a labyrinth of mountains quite inac- 
 cessible in many places to the horseman, and 
 partly to remove them to good pasturage, from 
 a locality which the bush fires of the past season 
 had left almost without a blade of grass. The 
 tract of couiitry he was going to is a vast plain, 
 retaining the aboriginal appellation of Manaroo, 
 and is considered to contain some of the best
 
 26 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 o^raziiiir c^roiinds for horned cattle within the 
 Australian colonies. A rough idea of its situa- 
 tion may be given by observing that it occupies 
 the extreme point of the eastern line of coast ; 
 and thus lies coastwise between the eastern and 
 southern settlements. Far above the sea, and 
 utterly bare of forest, over its main expanse, its 
 winter is piercing and desolate. Its extent is 
 such, that in some parts a rider may tire a good 
 horse two days in succession in passing across 
 from bush to bush. But in places, long narrow 
 points of straggling forest stretch out far into the 
 open waste, strangely bewildering the traveller, 
 and rendering the attempt to traverse the ground 
 in foggy weather very dangerous to the inex- 
 perienced. Additional peril also arises from the 
 inequality of the ground. No ranges of impor- 
 tance intersect its surface to serve as landmarks 
 at a distance ; but irregular hollows of various 
 depth, and little lines of elevated surface no less 
 irregular, present themselves in all directions. 
 
 Toward the evening of the fifth day, Reuben 
 Kable suddenly pointed out to his companion the 
 termination of their journey. It was a lonely 
 hut in the depth of the horse-shoe bight they had 
 just entered. From the belt of forest they had 
 passed to that on the opposite side of the bight 
 seemed little more than a stone's throw, though
 
 CATTLE " RUN " AND STATION. 27 
 
 the actual distance was about three miles. The 
 hut itself looked like a toy: the capacious stock- 
 yard behind was discernible ; but the place did 
 not suggest the idea of a cattle station. The 
 effect of these gigantic plains in this particular is 
 most surprising, especially on the first occasion 
 that the eye is subjected to their enchantment. 
 About another hour brought the wearied men and 
 horses to the little bark hut ; the jaded cattle 
 being left to mingle with a few of their new asso- 
 ciates, which were grazing with sleek hides and 
 plump carcasses by the big waterhole at the foot 
 of one of the more prominent elevations on the 
 line of the bight. The stockman and hutkeeper 
 were both out, and half a dozen kangaroo dogs 
 came hastily from various quarters to dispute the 
 entrance of the hut with its master ; but presently, 
 as one and another recognised him, they changed 
 their barks of defiance into antics and yelps of 
 welcome. 
 
 The inhabitant of a town may in some degree 
 imagine the sense of enjoyment which is expe- 
 rienced by the bushman on reaching his own hut 
 in a distant part of the country, after one of these 
 protracted and harassing journeys ; but he will 
 still remain ignorant of the delight which is felt 
 on rising next morning after a night's rest, and 
 looking abroad with a feeling that you have now
 
 28 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 *' free foot in the wilderness:" that your next door 
 neighbour will not complain of your trespassing 
 on him, if you do but circumscribe your opera- 
 tions within a circle of ten miles in diameter. 
 Reuben, however, delayed his friend no longer than 
 the two days necessary for refreshing the horses, 
 before he intimated that he was ready to fulfil his 
 promise. 
 
 The tier of the Australian Alps, or, as they arc 
 called in the common parlance of the country, the 
 Warragong Mountains, lay now about midway 
 between them and the tract of land, or rather the 
 station, known as the Rocky Springs ; and a couple 
 of days' ride when the horses were fresh was suf- 
 ficient for reaching the spot. The assistance of a 
 black, however, was requisite to make sure of the 
 most practicable pass through the ranges; and 
 one was soon found, and mounted on the stock- 
 keeper's spare horse. Once more the young men 
 set out together, with a feeling of familiarity ap- 
 proaching almost to that of brotherhood, and an 
 hourly increasing sympathy : frankness and fear- 
 lessness were main elements in the character of 
 both. 
 
 The weather continued as it had been for some 
 weeks, till the evening of the day on which they 
 set out ; when one of those sudden and complete 
 changes in the state of the atmosphere took place,
 
 AN AUSTRALIAN FOG. 29 
 
 to which the whole of this elevated region (par- 
 ticularly at this part) is so subject. As they 
 turned the crown of the gap, up which they had 
 made their way, the black fellow suddenly quick- 
 ened his pace, with the exclamation, *' Murry* 
 make haste! I believe murry tograf directly." 
 His countryman reined round his horse and cast 
 his eye down the ravine. " He 's right, Wil- 
 loughby; here's a regular fog coming up the 
 gullies as fast as it can sweep : these fogs will 
 soak one through in about an hour as bad as being 
 run through a waterhole. Well, it's no odds : we 
 can't get away from it." Willoughby now turned 
 and looked downward toward the plains. Every 
 object was hidden: the whole of the immense 
 expanse was one rolling sea of mist. Before they 
 could withdraw their eyes from the magnificent 
 spectacle, the deluge of vapour was scaling point 
 after point of the mountain, until it rose in volumes 
 up the very ravine at the brink of which they stood, 
 and, moving with the speed of steam, was over 
 them, around them, and far away beyond them, in 
 a few seconds. Almost in an instant, too, it was at 
 its thickest : not a tree could be seen at twenty feet 
 distant, and the whole of the air around was one 
 wide-spread extent of moving motes of spray. 
 "Now, Joe the Marine," said the Australian, 
 ♦Very. f Cold.
 
 30 
 
 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY, 
 
 addressing his black countryman by his standing 
 title among the whites, " mind you don't take the 
 wrong gully down the mountain." 
 
 *' Oh, baal {not) me stupid, MisserKable," said 
 the black fellow. " What for you pialla {talk) 
 like that?" 
 
 "Well, push along: it'll be no joke to camp 
 on the mountain in this fog. " 
 
 The guide did as he was urged. The road was 
 devious, and in many places precipitous ; but he 
 pursued his course with all the unerring instinct 
 of savage life. Before the darkness had estab* 
 lished itself amongst the more dense timber of the 
 mountain, the party had issued into the scantier 
 bush and longer lingering light of the low grounds. 
 The black immediately struck across to intersect 
 a road, which soon conducted them once more to 
 a station. Here the horses were hobbled and 
 turned out, and the riders were soon sharing with 
 the stockman and his hut-keeper the ever-wel- 
 come pot of tea, and some cold corned beef and 
 damper. 
 
 A light rain fell next morning; but it was too 
 trivial to be allowed to impede their progress. 
 About the middle of the afternoon, Willoughby 
 remarked that it was beginning to come down 
 more and more heavily, and bade fair for an even- 
 ing and night of heavy rain. Reuben, who had
 
 MOUNTAIN GAPS, 31 
 
 now taken the lead as guide, directed his attention 
 to the mouth of a gully towards which they were 
 advancing, and replied, — " About a mile and a half 
 will bring us to the station ; where we shall be 
 sure of dry house-room and plenty to eat, if it 
 rains for a week." 
 
 A few faint horse-tracks were here and there 
 visible, as they walked their horses up the sharply 
 rising hollow; but there was nothing like the 
 token of traffic to a much or long inhabited spot. 
 Willoughby perceived that they had turned 
 directly into one of the larger ranges of the low- 
 lands ; and about half an hour elapsed before they 
 reached the crown of the ridge, where it was 
 lowest : a spot known in bush language as " a 
 gap." These gaps, or low points of the ridges, are 
 of course taken advantage of, whenever practi- 
 cable, for crossing a range of hills : and the gap 
 is attained by following up to it the most gently- 
 sloping level, and otherwise unobstructed gully. 
 Eeyond the gap the ground again fell, but with 
 an easy declivity : the main line of it was covered 
 by a swamp ; so that the horsemen had to keep the 
 edge of the space, where the sapling timber again 
 almost barred their passage. At length, between 
 forcing their way by main strength through the 
 sapling scrub, and jumping the dead trees that 
 lay fallen in all directions athwart the swamp, tlie
 
 32 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 horses made good their way to the bottom. Here 
 the spurs that ran down from the leading ridge, 
 and betwixt two of which was contained the 
 swamp they had followed, terminated in open 
 ground. The Australian rode briskly up on to the 
 hip of the one on the right, and there checking 
 his horse, and facing him toward the clear expanse 
 of the flat in front, awaited the approach of 
 Willoughby. 
 
 " Will tiiat do?" he asked ; " is that anything 
 like what you want? Here you have a moun- 
 tain full of good timber at your back ; yonder in 
 front, is just such another range at about half a 
 mile off; and down below in the flat, runs a creek 
 that might be called a little river, never dry : it 
 comes out of a large semicircle of crags a little 
 higher up to the left, which is the reason the 
 station goes by the name of ' the Rocky Springs ; ' 
 and all the low ground through which it runs, 
 in front of us, is clear of trees, you see, for half a 
 mile above us, and more than as far below. 
 Upwards there, to the left, the clear ground 
 changes only into fine open forest, with scarcely 
 a tree to the acre ; and downwards, to the right, 
 the creek sweeps on, round the point of the hills 
 yonder, through large open flats to the Morrum- 
 bidgee. It's what I call a first-rate farm for a 
 new settler. Now ! six paces further over the
 
 SITE FOR A HOMESTEAD. 33 
 
 iiip of the hill. There ! what do you say to that 
 for a flat for cultivation ? A complete bay, you 
 see, between this spur of the range and the next : 
 I should think there is a good fifty acres ; and 
 that's cultivation ground enough for any new 
 settler. Yonder is the hut: master and men, I 
 believe, all mess together ; but it's a good big one. 
 It will serve you till you get up another, at all 
 events. And that other hill where the hut is, 
 you see is a bald hill with a fine broad easy face ; 
 just the very spot for a good house by-and-bye : 
 only, for the life of you, if you ever w^ant me to 
 find my way to it when I am out in this part, 
 don't do as I have known two or three nobs do, 
 lay out carriage-roads to the site of the future 
 mansion before you've got so much as a good 
 slab- hut or a donkey-cart." 
 
 There is nothing that causes us to realize the 
 presence and power of a strong practical mind like 
 its achieving, in our very sight, a sound and able 
 project. From this time Willoughby Bracton, 
 though by no means inferior in ability on his own 
 more perilous element, felt an irresistible attrac- 
 tion for Reuben's character: how finally to re- 
 sult will be seen hereafter. As no flattery of 
 thanks was required, so few, simple, and sincere, 
 were those that were rendered. 
 
 The young men made their way down and 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 34 
 
 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 across the flat, where, as yet, only a few acres 
 were fenced off for agriculture ; and once more 
 received the cheerful hospitalities of a bush hut. 
 The owner was absent; and the man in charge 
 was unable to say when he was likely to return 
 from Port Philip district, whither he had pro- 
 ceeded with the main body of his horned cattle. 
 The next day they once more rode off in com- 
 pany ; parting, where their roads diverged, with 
 mutual regret ; and not till Willoughby had given 
 his promise to make a trip to Broken Bay imme- 
 diately the affairs of his own family were auspi- 
 ciously arranged. 
 
 Reuben Kable returned to his stock-station at 
 Manaroo, for the purpose of branding his un- 
 branded cattle, and regulating such other por- 
 tions of his affairs as needed his attention. Wil- 
 loughby Bracton pursued his journey to Sydney ; 
 and it will be conjectured rightly that his report 
 of the station at " the Rocky Springs" was such, 
 that by the middle of the following month his 
 father had completed the purchase.
 
 PREPARATIONS. 35 
 
 CHAPTEE III. 
 
 Preparations for taking possession of the Farm. — Hiring 
 Hands. — Martin Beck, the Overseer. 
 
 The tide seemed turned ; and Lieutenant Brac- 
 ton gave himself up to agreeable prognostica- 
 tions. One thing only was annoying ; that he 
 should have landed at Port Philip instead' of at 
 Sydney, in the first instance: not so much on 
 account of the little additional trouble and ex- 
 pense, however, as because the beloved sex are 
 apt to be a little intolerant on the point of a 
 change of projects. Unacquainted, by the wear- 
 ing experience which man undergoes, of the 
 perpetually fresh phases that the business world 
 puts on, they are apt to be disturbed if informed 
 that arrangements which they had set down as 
 permanently settled must be varied : they sup- 
 pose that the strength of the husband, the father, 
 the brother, can always go straight forward on 
 the prescribed track, whatever the obstacles. It 
 is a pretty superstition, however, and to be 
 favoured whenever it may be prudently done. 
 
 d2
 
 36 
 
 TIIF. EMIGRANT FAMILY, 
 
 In the present case, happily, the apprehension 
 of reproof was not a very heavy one. Mrs. Brac- 
 ton, if faulty in personal character at all, was so 
 only in being more mild and unassuming than it 
 is altogether desirable that the mother of a family 
 should be. Her niece, Katharine, was also one 
 of nature's happiest efforts to embody an elegant, 
 affectionate, and virtuous womanhood. If the 
 old sea-officer stood at all in fear, it was of his 
 little daughter Marianna ; who, being the only 
 daughter, and never deposed by any subsequent 
 claimant from her father's knee, had earned for 
 herself the title of "the spoilt one." But this is 
 all we have to say in impeachment of her claim 
 to everybody's love. Where is the girl that is 
 not lovely at sweet sixteen? Marianna was 
 lovely, not merely because she was sixteen; she 
 was lovely in person, in spirit, and in character. 
 Though not so tall as Katharine, she was of a 
 good height for woman; slim, but rounded in the 
 most generous mould ; and a thousand blushes 
 suffused her countenance every day she walked 
 amongst men. Quick in apprehension and thought, 
 witli intense susceptibilities and refined taste, 
 she was high and passionate of heart ; loving, 
 and, when fit time was, proud — proud as her sire 
 himself had been, and would have fought a ship
 
 PREPARATIONS. 3/ 
 
 as well as lie, if she had possessed the requisite 
 title to wear the epaulettes. 
 
 Meantime, whilst it must be acknowledged that 
 Lieutenant Bracton occasionally felt little twinges 
 of apprehension as to the reception of this sudden 
 alteration of his j^lan, let it not be supposed that 
 he had forgotten the magic power of those small 
 but endearing words, " pet," " darling," Sec. — 
 words without which our language would be 
 very imperfect : he remembered right well what 
 thousand troubles they had brought him through, 
 betwixt boyhood and grey hairs ; and, quietly 
 smiling to himself, was at ease about the matter 
 of " the Rocky Springs." 
 
 Willoughby never thought about the point at 
 all : brothers are allowed to be impenetrable to 
 this sort of grievances. Matters of more impor- 
 tance, moreover, now required his attention ; and 
 he found that his father's naval habits did not 
 constitute him the most efficient coadjutor in the 
 business in hand. Although much of the tout 
 ensemble of the naval officer had worn off the 
 old gentleman during the eight years he had 
 resided on shore, he had acquired no other rural 
 characteristics beyond what we have attributed 
 to his outward appearance : the corners of the 
 flint were worn off, but it could not become a 
 sandstone. ^
 
 38 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 The purchase and transfer of tlie title to the 
 land completed, the next step was that of hh'ing 
 such servants as were necessary, and buying a 
 team of bullocks and dray for the conveyance 
 of stores and luggage. Few horse teams, com- 
 paratively, are worked on the Australian roads ; 
 and the common English waggon also is rarely 
 seen. The conveyance for dead weight — and 
 such is almost all that passes through the coun- 
 try — downwards, of wool, grain, cheese, and 
 butter ; upwards, of tea and sugar, furniture, 
 clothing, and similar articles — is almost invari- 
 ably the dray, a vehicle very similar in con- 
 struction to our brewers' drays in England, but 
 built somewhat lighter. At times, drays are to 
 be procured in Sydney, at public auctions, con- 
 siderably below the cost price ; and the land- 
 agent advised Willoughby to wait a few days 
 for a sale of farm-stock in the suburbs, which 
 was about to take place. 
 
 The servants required were an overseer, a car- 
 penter, a bullock-driver, and three or four labour- 
 ing hands ; these it was decided to secure in the 
 capital, and send on to the farm with the dray : 
 any additional labourers were always procurable on 
 the spot. The labouring population of Australia 
 is almost wholly migratory : individuals rarely 
 attach themselves to one locality, but, at the
 
 MARTIN BECK. 39 
 
 termination of the periods for which they hire, 
 wander away to some distant district, or to some 
 neighbouring settler's farm ; either on a plea of 
 discontent or from the desire of change, and, as 
 they say, " to see the country." 
 
 Lieutenant Bracton accordingly inserted in one 
 of the papers the common advertisement of a new- 
 settler, for so many and such hands. The first 
 that appeared in consequence was a fine and 
 rather handsome young man of American-negro 
 descent, named Martin Beck, who came to offer 
 his services as carpenter. His appearance was 
 much superior to that usual among persons of 
 the same occupation : a peculiarity probably 
 attributable to the circumstance of his being a 
 native of the colony : his mother and father were 
 both convicts, who had been sent hither in the 
 first days of the colony, from different parts of the 
 British Islands : both blacks of American birth, 
 they had married by permission of the governor, 
 whilst still under sentence. It was usual in 
 former times to give well-behaved persons of 
 the prison class, under such circumstances, a 
 free grant of fifty or a hundred acres, together 
 with twelve or eighteen months' ration from the 
 public store to begin with ; and the practice has 
 left an attestation of its excellence, in the con- 
 firmed reformation and gradual advancement of
 
 40 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 the parties and their families, in at least four 
 cases out of five. If the result in the one in- 
 stance which now comes under our more direct 
 observation is an exception to the general rule, 
 an amply sufficient reason may be traced in the 
 isolation effected by colour. As Martin Beck 
 grew up, with all the fire of Africa in his veins, 
 he became painfully sensible that he was an alien 
 in his native land. The girls of his country were 
 growing up around him, amidst forest and moun- 
 tain and river, full of a winning softness rarely 
 met with in the offspring of cities : but none 
 among them for him. For him there was no 
 more from the most kind and considerate lass 
 than a nod of good-humoured condescension, and 
 a " Fine day, Martin : how's your father? how's 
 the old woman?" His attention to his dress, 
 which was much superior to that of other natives 
 of the same rank, intimated clearly that he was 
 quite aware that colour alone was depriving him 
 of the advantage of a fine and, even in some 
 degree, noble person. He wore a blue jacket, 
 with black waistcoat and trousers, of the best 
 material, and evidently the work of one of the 
 first shops in Sydney ; black silk handkerchief, 
 white shirt, and Manilla hat ; and his boots were 
 always well polished: quite an extraordinary 
 thing for those of his occupation and position
 
 MARTIN BECK. 41 
 
 in the colony. Although there was something 
 sinister in the countenance of Martin Beck, it 
 was not that expression which low vices imprint : 
 there was no trace of habitual debauchery of 
 any kind. The acute observer, watching his face 
 for some time, would have perceived a continuous 
 and vigilant endeavour to conceal, under a prac- 
 tised laugh, unbounded avidity, and so much of 
 pure selfishness as the ineradicable instincts of 
 youth render possible. His English was as good 
 as an Englishman's : indeed, but for being inter- 
 mingled with the idioms of the colony, better 
 than is usually heard among our mechanics at 
 home. 
 
 He introduced himself by walking boldly up to 
 Lieutenant Bracton, as he stood at the door of the 
 Royal Hotel, in George-street, and saying, as he 
 slightly raised his hat, " I hear you want a car- 
 penter, captain." 
 
 " Yes, my man," said Mr. Bracton. " But 
 what are you ? You appear an American : not 
 run away from a ship, I hope ?" 
 
 " Oh, no, sir ; I am a native of the Der- 
 went." 
 
 " Surely not one of the aborigines : not one of 
 the bush natives ? " 
 
 " My parents were Yankees/' said the black, 
 with his habitual and instinctive endeavour to
 
 42 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 sustain in his own mind, by a false definition, his 
 propinquity to a civilized people. 
 
 " Oh, I see," said Lieutenant Bracton, " your 
 father and mother were coloured natives of 
 America, and came to Van Diemen's Land, where 
 you were born." 
 
 " Yes. I count myself as good a bushman as 
 there is in the colony, captain. If you are taking 
 a new farm, and we make a bargain, I don't 
 think you '11 grumble at the end of the time. 
 I '11 hire for six months, or for twelve ; or I '11 
 take the work by the piece, or any way you 
 like : only, as I expect to do my work, and can 
 do it as it ought to be done, I must have good 
 wages." 
 
 "Well, my man, I'll think about you," said 
 the lieutenant. " Who have you worked for in 
 the colony?" 
 
 " I 'm but just come up from Hobart Town," 
 said Beck, with a slight degree of hesitation : 
 which, through his stammering a little in his 
 common talk, passed unnoticed. 
 
 "What wages shall you want?" 
 
 " Five shillings a day, hiring by the month ; 
 (no carpenter that is a carpenter has less) ; and 
 a month's notice before being discharged, or a 
 month's wages. But I 'd sooner take the work 
 by the piece : then I can work what hours I like.
 
 MARTIN BECK. 43 
 
 Twelve hours is a clay's work on wages ; but I 'd 
 sooner work the other six than sit yarning in a 
 hut with the riff- raff. And it's always better in 
 my opinion for a settler to pay for his work by 
 the piece ; then he knows what he pays his money 
 for, and a man knows what he has to do for his 
 wages." 
 
 Willoughby Bracton came up at the instant. 
 Tlie line appearance and evident intelligence of 
 the black had made a favourable impression on 
 the lieutenant ; and his son was prepossessed by 
 the sentiment discernible on his father's counte- 
 nance in Martin's favour. 
 
 " This young man," said Lieutenant Bracton, 
 '' is a native of the colony by American parents. 
 He wants to hire as carpenter." 
 
 " He has the look of a good workman," said 
 Willoughby, after surveying the black for an 
 instant. " I have just met Mr. Moody (the 
 gentleman of whom Lieutenant Bracton had 
 purchased his land) on the wharf. He came up 
 from Port Philip by the vessel that was signalled 
 last night : she put in there. She is the Nautilus, 
 of London. I was telling him we are only waiting 
 for a dray, and he has made me an offer of his ; 
 which is down in Sydney for stores for the farm, 
 and will not now be wanted: I can have it, if 
 we can agree about the price. He says it is
 
 44 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 quite a new dray, and there is a team of seven 
 bullocks also, — a sliafter, and three pair of yoke 
 oxen." 
 
 "You had better lay hold of that offer, captain," 
 suggested Martin Beck, " even if you give a little 
 more. There's nothing like having a team that's 
 used to a run ; they don't stray : you can get 
 them when you want them. If you take up new 
 bullocks, half your bullock-driver's time will be 
 spent for months in looking after them, till they 
 get used to the run." 
 
 " That 's true," said Willoughby ; " and it seems 
 to me that it is almost as necessary to have the 
 same driver as to have the bullocks." 
 
 " It all depends " replied Martin, " on whether 
 he 's a good driver. A fresh driver, if he 's a good 
 hand, will soon get used to his team, and they to 
 him ; but if he 's a bad one, the sooner he has 
 done with them the better. As for a bullock- 
 driver knowing the run, it's of very little conse- 
 quence; a fortnight will put all that to rights. 
 The best thing to do, sir, is to get out of his 
 master whether he 's worth anything, before you 
 make the bargain for the team ; and if he is, then 
 offer to buy the team on condition of the man 
 going with them. If he 's a free man, his master 
 can give him up his agreement ; and if he 's a 
 prisoner, the master can lend him, if he likes : it 's
 
 MARTIN BECK. 
 
 45 
 
 not allowed, I suppose; but nobody cares about 
 that. Nobody need "jacket" {inform against) 
 himself.'* 
 
 " You seem to have a good knowledge of these 
 matters, carpenter," said the lieutenant; "you 
 can go and look at the dray and team for us, and 
 tell us what it is worth. I dare say we shall 
 engage you." 
 
 The black raised his hat slightly, and, observing 
 that the father and son turned aside to talk to- 
 gether, walked to a little distance. 
 
 " You 've got a man there," said Y/illoughby 
 to his father, " much better fitted for an overseer, 
 in my opinion, than some raw countryman just 
 come from England." 
 
 " He certainly seems a very intelligent fellow ; 
 and I have no doubt is well acquainted with all 
 that has to be done on a new farm. We '11 hear 
 what he has to say. — Here, my man, step this 
 way — I did not ask your name yet." 
 
 " My name is Martin Beck, captain," answered 
 the black, with that slight hesitation of speech 
 which had before insinuated itself into one of his 
 replies : but his habitual stammer prevented it 
 from attracting any special notice. 
 
 " Are you capable of acting as overseer on a 
 farm?" inquired Willoughby. 
 
 " In respect of the work," replied Martin, " 1
 
 46 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 consider I could take charge of the largest farm 
 in the country : but I am no scholar." 
 
 " I don't see," observed the lieutenant to his 
 son, " that that is of any consequence ; we shall 
 have so few men, that there will be no accounts 
 to keep for a long time. You think, Beck, you 
 could answer for managing the business of the 
 farm in the best way ? " 
 
 " I 'm sure of that, captain," replied the black; 
 the misshapen composition of his internal cha- 
 racter appearing more distinctly on his features 
 than it had hitherto done, as the vague prospec- 
 tive of greater opportunity arose before him. 
 But the black countenance is only partially 
 amenable to the scrutiny of the white man's eye. 
 It might fairly be taken to be only a rude zeal, 
 arising in contemplation of a benefit about to be 
 conferred, that gave Martin Beck's countenance 
 for a few seconds the sharp and eager look which 
 it put on ; especially as it was immediately fol- 
 lowed by an expression of the almost opposite 
 feeling of unwillingness to accept the proffer. 
 
 " I think I shall fancy the work best," he said. 
 " I know I 'm one of the best bushmen in the 
 colony, captain. I can do every part of the work 
 that is to be done with a piece of wood; judge 
 the best timber as it stands in the bush ; fell it, 
 cut it up, and turn it to any use, from a shearing-
 
 MARTIN BECK. 47 
 
 shed floor to a pannel-door or venetian-blinds. 
 I consider an overseer's berth wouldn't pay me. 
 I 'm not afraid of work ; and if I work I can earn 
 twice, if not three times, over what an overseer 
 gets." 
 
 The statement was too clear to need any ex- 
 planation, and too reasonable to admit of being 
 questioned ; while it made still more obvious both 
 the intelligence and the thrifty habits of the man. 
 And coming as these all did along with his smart 
 and well-dressed exterior, it would have been an 
 unnatural exercise of caution, if Lieutenant Brac- 
 ton and his son had not begun to accord him a 
 considerable degree of confidence. The lieuten- 
 ant, in particular, looking at him with the eye of 
 a naval oflSicer, felt more disposed to secure him 
 in his service than any other man he had yet cast 
 his eyes on in traversing the country. To Wil- 
 loughby, also, there seemed a sort of incongruity 
 in having a shrewd, experienced native of the 
 colony on the farm, under some such stupid 
 crawling pretender as he had seen in many 
 places invested with the office of overseer. After 
 a few minutes' thought, he said, turning to Martin 
 Beck, — 
 
 '' Suppose we agree with you by the job, for 
 such work as we find we want done as we go on, 
 at the current rate given by the nearest settlers ;
 
 48 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 and give you in addition to what you earn thus, 
 — twenty pounds a year for the time you occupy 
 from your own work in superintending things 
 generally. That, you know, is a third of a full 
 salary of an overseer ; and you will not lose more 
 than a third of your time in the duties." 
 
 " That '11 do, sir," said the black, in an instant. 
 "Am I to take the agreement to be made?" 
 
 This was assented to : his employers only sti- 
 pulating that it should be a six months' agree- 
 ment merely ; that they might have the oppor- 
 tunity of terminating or renewing it, according as 
 they found it suit them at the end of that period. 
 
 " When do you want me to start, captain ? " 
 inquired the black. 
 
 " As soon as the dray and the rest of the men 
 are procured," was the reply. 
 
 "That may be to-day," said Beck, " if you can 
 find the owner of the dray again. The men I 
 can hunt up for you in two hours." 
 
 " Why, I thought," observed the lieutenant, 
 " that labouring men were so scarce here." 
 
 " Not in Sydney," said Beck. " There 's 
 always a mob here w^ho have come down the 
 country to spend their money ; and when its 
 gone they must be off. There 's only one turn- 
 pike gate for the interior: just walk out and stop 
 there a couple of hours, and you '11 have the pick
 
 WORKING HANDS. 49 
 
 of a score every day ; shepherds, tradesmen, and 
 men that never were men yet; good men and 
 crawlers. I never want to look at a man twice 
 to know what he is." 
 
 " And do you think, Martin," asked Lieutenant 
 Bracton, "that out of such a crew as that, you 
 can get good men ; such men as I want ?" 
 
 "Working hands are working hands, up the 
 country or down," replied the black. " The only 
 difference I can see is, that everywhere there are 
 some who are emigrants, and some who are freed- 
 men : the emigrants are flats, and the others are 
 sharps. Of the two, I think the sharps are a 
 great deal best worth their wages ; they want 
 good looking after, but there 's something to be 
 got out of them. The emigrants they send over 
 here always seem more dead than alive, till 
 they 've been five or six years in the country ; 
 then they begin to be like the rest of the people." 
 
 " I don't want," said the lieutenant, rather 
 peremptorily, " to make a station for a den of 
 thieves." 
 
 " There 's no need for that, captain," said Beck, 
 with a slight discomposure. " The convicts, after 
 they get free, are generally honest enough. In 
 fact, there 's nothing for them to steal, unless they 
 break into a settler's stores ; and that is not worth 
 their while, for what they would get. Nine out 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 50 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 of ten of the freed men, or more than that, 
 have set it clown that honesty is the easiest 
 game." And here the black fell again into the 
 hesitating utterance already mentioned : but it 
 appeared rather an attempt to overcome his 
 stammering by a more deliberate pronunciation 
 of the words, so regularly were they measured, 
 than the result of any inward confusion. 
 
 " At all events," said Willoughby, speaking to 
 his father, *' the dray might be off to-morrow. 
 Some stores will be required, however. What 
 is it customary to take up to a new station, Mar- 
 tin? There is a large rough hut already on the 
 ground." 
 
 Martin Beck proceeded to name the customary 
 provision made. " If the team is a strong one, 
 sir," he said, addressing Willoughby as the party 
 it appeared he was now to deal principally with, 
 *' it will save a journey to Sydney and back in the 
 middle of winter, when the rivers will very likely 
 be up, if you take six months' stores at once. 
 How many hands will there be in all ?" 
 
 " Five of ourselves," was W^illoughby's reply. 
 " And now I think of it, lest I should not recol- 
 lect it again, the first thing you do, must be to 
 divide that hut off; leaving half as it is, and turn- 
 ing the other half into two small rooms, boarded 
 all round as close as vou can fit the boards, for
 
 STOEES AND TOOLS. 51 
 
 my niotlier and sisters. And then, if you have 
 time, run up two small liuts toward the end of 
 the hill ; one of them for yourself and me, and 
 one of them for the men." 
 
 « Very good, sir," said Beck. *' You asked 
 about stores. Five of your own family, you say : 
 how many besides?" 
 
 "Yourself, the bullock-driver, and three la- 
 bouring hands. You can find them, and bring 
 them here in the course of the day." 
 
 " Ten in all : — about four hundredweight of 
 sugar ; a chest, or chest and half of tea ; fifty or 
 sixty pounds of tobacco (every man almost smokes, 
 captain, here). As to beef, I suppose you mean 
 to buy that, standing, up the country. The quan- 
 tity of flour depends on the ration you allow the 
 men ; some give eight pounds of flour, some ten. 
 Then there are tools and slop-clothing, and nails, 
 and cooking utensils, and a number of other 
 things." 
 
 The detail had already bewildered the parties 
 to whom it was addressed, so far, that Willoughby 
 inquired if a list of the usual supplies for a new 
 station could not be procured. In reply, Martin 
 Beck said that he should wish to select for himself, 
 from an ironmonger's store, such implements as 
 were necessary in his own duties and for the 
 business of the farm; and that for the rations and 

 
 52 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 stores at large, it was tlie common and easiest 
 way to give the usual order to some one of the 
 dealers in general merchandize with which the 
 city abounds. That plan therefore was adopted. 
 Martin Beck received an order to one of the 
 large ironmongers to allow him to select for 
 Lieutenant Bracton whatever goods he thought 
 proper, together with authority to choose and 
 bring for approval the necessary men ; and 
 Willoughby proceeded to give instructions to one 
 of the general agents to prepare the stores.
 
 STARTING. 53 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Starting of the Party. — The Dray Bogged— John Thomas 
 the Bullock-driver. — A Visit from the Natives. — 
 Finishing the Hut. 
 
 Martin Beck's task was well and promptly 
 performed. That night, three able, decent, and 
 serviceable men were brought to his employer 
 and hired. Any other than a sea-officer might 
 have been surprised to hear from each of them in 
 succession a request for "an advance;" but it 
 was such a well-known custom of the lieutenant's 
 own profession that it occasioned no surprise. 
 Almost invariably the part of the population that 
 have been convicts seem only to earn that they 
 may spend their money again in thoughtless ex- 
 travagance. Many no doubt w^ould do otherwise 
 if the sale of small parcels of land was customary; 
 for those who, through the considerate benevo- 
 lence of some old master, have the opportunity of 
 running a few head of cattle on his land are often 
 found making that investment of their wages. The 
 generality, however, having no such facility for
 
 54 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 turning their earnings Into property, and unable 
 to resist tlie extraordinary temptation to dissi- 
 pation from a large amount of ready cash in their 
 pockets, soon make away with the proceeds of 
 their labour. The capital and its amusing scenes 
 is naturally chosen for the " spree," in preference 
 to the solitary bush public-house ; and hence the 
 daily file of penniless stragglers which Martin 
 Beck had spoken of, as capable of furnishing in a 
 couple of hours as many good men as were re- 
 quired. Every labouring man proceeding to the 
 interior passes out of the city by the turnpike ; 
 and nine out of every ten go out with empty 
 pockets : or, at the best, with no more than suf- 
 ficient to carry them so far on the road as where 
 the more hospitable habits of the interior com- 
 mence. 
 
 Willoughby was also successful in arranging 
 for the purchase of the dray and bullocks ; pro- 
 vided his overseer considered the stipulated price 
 a fair one. Beck, on viewing them, decided that 
 nothing of equal value could be got for less, 
 except by unusual accident. The bullock-driver 
 turned out to be a ticket-of-leave man ; that is, a 
 prisoner who has served a sort of punitory portion 
 of his sentence, and having done so without 
 serious misconduct has entered upon what may 
 be described as a probationary period, during
 
 STARTING. 55 
 
 which he holds an official document authorizinir 
 him to work for his own advantage within a 
 prescribed district. The man in question, holding- 
 his ticket already for the district in which ' the 
 Rocky Springs ' was situated, although engaged 
 for twelve months, could not be compelled to 
 accompany his master anywhere beyond it, except 
 as a mere driver actually on a journey ; and, 
 being still a prisoner, could not, even if willing, 
 go with him to Port Philip. He therefore natu- 
 rally chose to pass along with his team into the 
 service of Mr. Bracton. His master gave him a 
 high character for trustworthiness ; but added, 
 " You must let him have his own way with his 
 bullocks. He 's a Welshman : very faithful, to 
 be depended upon in anything; but as obstinate 
 as a mule." 
 
 Kext day by noon, the dray was laden with its 
 tools, and stores, and rations, for the journey ; and 
 the three " advances " had probably been sent by 
 various publicans to be set to their account at one 
 of the banks. The party about to proceed to the 
 hut under Diandulla Mountain, slowly but steadily 
 began to wend its way over the hot, red, dusty hills 
 out of Sydney towards the interior ; by the road 
 on which, some sixty miles further forward, Lieu- 
 tenant Bracton and his son had encountered their 
 friendly adviser.
 
 56 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 The emigrant to a new country, if he have any 
 taste for active life, will generally meet with plenty 
 to gratify it in the necessity for action which is 
 peri^etually imposed upon him by the motion of 
 things around ; especially during the earlier stages 
 of his undertaking. The late proprietor of the 
 farm called on Lieutenant Bracton in the course 
 of the same day, offering him for purchase, as a 
 convenience to both parties, a small number of 
 cattle still upon the farm ; amongst which were 
 some of his best milch cows, reserved in case 
 the ground was not disposed of. The offer being 
 accepted, and the price fixed, it was necessary 
 that some one should be there to receive them 
 and give an acquittance ; but as Mr. Moody pro- 
 ceeded by Port Philip by an early vessel, and 
 thence on horseback, he expected to be there long- 
 before the overseer and dray. The young man, 
 therefore, had once more to determine on an 
 almost immediate journey into the interior. His 
 father chose to proceed by the same vessel with 
 Mr. Moody, to rejoin his family at Port Philip. 
 
 It w^as now the month of April, one of the sea- 
 sons at which the colony is often visited by very in- 
 clement weather. Before Willoughby's prepara- 
 tions for his journey were completed, heavy rain 
 set in, which continued without intermission for 
 several days ; but, unwilling to fail in his appoint-
 
 THE DRAY BOGGED. 57 
 
 ment, he at length set out. The road traverses many 
 a high exposed hill and open tract of ground, ren- 
 dering the journey itself in such weather far from a 
 pleasant one. But the most unwelcome part of his 
 expedition arose from the condition of the roads. 
 Excellent in summer, from the scientific care 
 with which they have been marked out and laid 
 down, they had as yet acquired no solidity from 
 age ; and teams were to be seen camped in seve- 
 ral places, from want of force of bullocks to over- 
 come the additional difficulty of draught caused by 
 the settled rain. On arriving at Lupton's Inn, 
 however, he had the satisfaction of learning that 
 his party were on a-head, having passed the day 
 before ; and after dinner he once more started for 
 the twenty-mile stage that would complete a third 
 part of his journey. 
 
 He now hoped to find the party camped, as 
 usual, somewhere on the road-side, towards the 
 end of his own day's stage : they would then be 
 past the worst portion of their journey. Leading 
 up from the further edge of Mittagong flats, where 
 Reuben Kable had refreshed his cattle at noon 
 on the day that Willoughby became his fellow- 
 traveller, a great range of mountain rises, known 
 as the Mittagong range. The ascent of the road 
 is not regular and even throughout, but rather 
 over a series of steppes alternating with declivities.
 
 5(5 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 The drainao'e from the declivities falls and rests on 
 the intermediate level spaces, the upper soil of 
 which is only the light sediment thus accumulated 
 from the water through ages past; those spaces, 
 therefore, though level, are the worst parts of 
 the whole ascent. The drays in wet seasons bog 
 up to the axle ; sometimes one wheel going right 
 down suddenly, sometimes both ; whilst the poor 
 animals themselves, in their efforts to force their 
 way forward, only drive down their feet deeper 
 into the marshy soil, and flounder about till their 
 hearts fail them, and they give up the struggle. 
 Once fairly baffled in this way, even a good set of 
 bullocks will refuse to pull again. 
 
 To the young settler's dismay, such was the 
 predicament in which he found his own team, as 
 he rode up the range. The evening was fast set- 
 ting in, the rain falling thick and cold, and the 
 wind, which had blown fresh in the low grounds, 
 blovving still more boisterous and dismal on this 
 bleak elevation ; the dray was stuck in the centre 
 of a bog, down nearly to the axle, and the ground 
 cut up in all directions in the struggle to get it 
 out ; the bullocks were standing a little way off in 
 the bush, all huddled together in their yokes, and 
 hanging their heads, knocked up and baffled; the 
 men sitting on the dead logs by the road-side. 
 The straightforward self-dependence and obstinacy
 
 THE WELSHMAN. 59 
 
 of the Welshman, as miglit easily have been fore- 
 seen, was in full antagonism with the assumption 
 and conceited forwardness of Beck ; and the feud 
 was fairly begun, which was to take so wide a 
 latitude, and produce such serious consequences 
 before it came to an end : it had been burning with 
 growing but smothered activity from the first hour 
 the men came into contact, now it was in uncon- 
 cealed blaze. 
 
 " Come," said Beck, shortly before Willoughby 
 rode up; "don't keep us here all night. Try 
 the bullocks again." 
 
 " It 'ood be a good job for you to earn your 
 dinner as well as the poor beasts has, my man," 
 retorted the Welshman. There was then a short 
 pause ; when one of the hands Beck had pro- 
 cured walked over to him and said something 
 in an undertone. "Ay," replied Beck aloud; 
 "he'll pitch it that he's careful about the cap- 
 tain's cattle ; when it 's only his own surly tem- 
 per." 
 
 At this juncture, Willoughby came in sight, 
 and, slackening his pace as he perceived the dis- 
 aster, rode over towards the overseer, who was 
 standing on one side of the road, whilst the 
 bullock-driver was sitting on a log at the other. 
 
 " Why, you're fast enough, Martin," said Wil- 
 loughby.
 
 60 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 " So John Thomas says, sir," replied the over- 
 seer; " he knows best whether seven such bul- 
 locks as yours are, oughtn't to pull that load 
 about a couple of yards. There's good ground 
 within six feet, and this is the last bad place 
 there is: the top of the range is just round the 
 corner of that bit of scrub.'* 
 
 " Oh, you must have another try, Thomas," 
 said Willoughby, after riding across and exa- 
 mining the ground. 
 
 " Ko," said the Welshman ; " I 'ood never 
 flog a bullock when I know the poor beast has 
 done all she can." 
 
 Further importunities on the part of Wil- 
 loughby only led to further and more dogged 
 refusals on the part of the Welshman, inter- 
 spersed with more bitter gibes on the part of 
 Martin. 
 
 John Thomas at length got up, and, throwing 
 down his whip, went over to the dray and began 
 to loosen the ropes ready for unloading. " Come, 
 my man in the bluejacket," he said, as soon as 
 he had rolled off the tarpaulin ; " do what you 
 can : it isn't much." Beck, thus summoned, was 
 obliged to join the three men who were waiting to 
 help to unload. This was soon performed, and the 
 cattle once more tried. But in vain : no two of 
 them could be got to pull together ; nor did the
 
 THE WELSHMAN. 61 
 
 driver seem to try very hard to make them. 
 Once more he unloosed them from the now 
 empty dray, and began doggedly to take off a 
 couple of sheets of bark, which had been laid 
 under the load, and three or four loose planks 
 that served as additional cross pieces; throwing 
 at the same time the axe to one of the men, and 
 directing him to cut ten or a dozen small sap- 
 lings, and lay across in front of the wheels, to 
 form a solid course for them to the good ground. 
 Laying the planks under the dray with the bark 
 on them, he then placed himself underneath the 
 hinder part in a crouching posture, and heaved 
 it up by main force, notwithstanding the hold of 
 the mud, and there held it whilst the wheels were 
 blocked up underneath. 
 
 Thus extricated, Willoughby left them to pur- 
 sue their way on to the best camping-place within 
 reach that night. John Thomas and the over- 
 seer had no further communication : except when 
 the one chose to give some dictatorial and harass- 
 ing order, and the other, to shew how much 
 of it he could venture, with safety to his ticket-of- 
 leave, to set at defiance. 
 
 By two more days' ride Willoughby reached the 
 station, before the late owner had arrived. And 
 when the weather cleared, he had an ojDportu- 
 nity of taking a more leisurely survey than he
 
 62 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 yet had done of the future home of his family : 
 and, as he supposed, of himself. 
 
 Three days elapsed before Mr. Moody reached 
 his late station ; and two more were occupied in 
 searching for and delivering the whole of the 
 cattle. Several other articles, useless to the de- 
 parting occupant, or too cumbersome to trans- 
 port, but indispensable to the new residents, 
 were also treated for : the steel-mill for grinding 
 wheat, some sieves, the remainder of a small stack 
 of unthrashed w^heat, sundry iron-pots, &;c., and 
 a light cart used for carrying rations to out-sta- 
 tions ; which, as the owner had only the horse he 
 rode with him, it was as convenient to him to get 
 rid of, as it was to his successor to obtain. The 
 man who had been hut-keeping during the ab- 
 sence of Mr. Moody was allowed his choice of 
 going with his old master to the new settlements, 
 or having his agreement given up to him and 
 eno-ag^inii' with the new comer. As new comers 
 have the reputation of possessing plenty of money, 
 and expending it freely, he chose the latter. Mr. 
 Moody remained some days, engaged in winding 
 up his various connections of business with other 
 settlers in that quarter of the country ; and when 
 not so engaged, making himself at home with 
 Willoughby. 
 
 In the mean time, the dray reached its destina-
 
 THE ABORIGINES. 63 
 
 tion. After the stores were housed, and a day 
 had been spent in resting, Martin Beck began to 
 get his tools in order, and give directions to the 
 men. Willoughby was gratified at hearing a 
 favourable opinion expressed of him by so active 
 and penetrating a man as the late owner of the 
 ground, " That overseer of yours is a smart 
 fellow with his tools," said Mr. Moody ; " but a 
 shocking dirty colour : he'll frighten all the cattle 
 off the run." 
 
 '^ It's only the native blacks, sir," said one of 
 the men who was standing by, " that the cattle 
 are afraid of; and I dare say it's more because 
 they're without clothes, than because of their 
 colour. I saw Mr. Beck in the yard among the 
 cattle, and they did not seem more afraid of him 
 than of a white man. He's a good hand among 
 cattle : he roped a young bullock, that he wanted 
 yoked in place of the one that's footsore, after it 
 had hunted the bullock-driver and Warraghi Bill, 
 and everybody else out of the yard." 
 
 " Well, that's something," said Mr. Moody : 
 " Warrao'hi is a bold hand himself amono- cat- 
 
 o o 
 
 tie. Still I shouldn't like to meet Mr. Beck of a 
 dark night, myself, among the ranges." 
 
 " And are the cattle really frightened at the 
 natives?" inquired Willoughby. 
 
 " I imagine not exactly V replied Mr. Moody,
 
 64 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 " it has always appeared to me more like aversion 
 whicli they manifest, than fear : they gallop about, 
 and snort and toss their heads. Cattle are very 
 keen of scent, and there is such an insufferable 
 odour encircling these native blacks, that possibly 
 their antics are only an expression of irritation." 
 
 "The natives appear a very degraded race," 
 observed Willoughby. 
 
 " About the settlements, they are undoubtedly : 
 but in their primitive state I have always felt 
 inclined to think them far less vicious than the 
 mass of civilized society. In fact, in their primi- 
 tive state I can observe very little of what we 
 commonly call vice amongst them. The ugliness, 
 too, for which they have such a standing charac- 
 ter, assumes only its common proportion among 
 the tribes whicli remain in their natural condi- 
 tion. Some of the men are as fine samples of 
 frame and muscle as could be found ; and I have 
 seen young girls among them with the finest 
 contour and the most brilliant eyes imaginable. 
 But they are old soon after twenty years of age : 
 the glow of their youth, like the day of their 
 clime, seems to pass suddenly away, without a 
 twilight." 
 
 So far as the mechanical duties of his overseer- 
 ship went, Martin Beck deserved the encomium 
 he had extorted. Mr. Moody soon afterwards
 
 BLACK VISITORS. 65 
 
 took his leave. There being as yet but the one 
 hut (the late proprietor was a bachelor), common 
 lodging and a common mess were the order of 
 the day. However, in the com-se of a few days a 
 wandering tribe of natives pitched their camp on 
 the opposite side of the creek. They were what 
 are called " civilized blacks " — one of the tribes 
 who had been for several years in connection with 
 the Europeans. The young emigrant had thds 
 the fullest opportunity of extending his circle of 
 acquaintance ; and, whether he felt it agreeable 
 or not, he must at all events have found it 
 amusing, to come in to his hut and find that, ample 
 as it was, the floor was completely covered every 
 day at dinner-time by his black guests. Half a 
 dozen 'gins' with their pickaninnies were crouched 
 in the chimney, not only beside, but even behind 
 the fire. And on every stool, and where the stools 
 failed seated cross-legged upon the ground, the 
 sages of the tribe furnished, in some instances, 
 specimens of the most recondite and v/eil-nigh 
 incredible ugliness ; whilst outside the door the 
 younger men and boys stood or sprawled on the 
 ground, talking over their own affairs, and seem- 
 ing rather like an appendage to the visit of the 
 tribe, than personally much interested in it. 
 
 This state of things, however, did not last many 
 days. Beck, with the smartness that marked all 
 
 VOL. I. r
 
 66 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 he did, having first consulted his employer, divided 
 a seven-foot section off from the large hut, and 
 again dividing that into tvt^o, with an intermediate 
 passage, lined each of the apartments thus formed 
 "vvith the sound, dry bark of the roof — a much 
 more impervious lining than fresh-cut boards, 
 which would soon have shrunk with the heat of 
 the hut, leaving interstices. He also re-covered 
 the roof with new bark cut by the natives. In a 
 few more days he had a sufficient quantity of 
 slabs split, and other bush-stuff ready, for the 
 construction of two common huts — one for the 
 men, and the other for Willoughby Bracton and 
 himself. The hutkeeper who had been taken on 
 was made stockman, as best knowing the run ; 
 one of the hands brought up the country succeeded 
 him as cook ; the other two helped Beck in the 
 bush ; and Willoughby, tucking up his shirt- 
 sleeves, went as bullock-driver's mate, along with 
 John Thomas. 
 
 A special messenger at length arrived from 
 Sydney, bearing a letter from Lieutenant Bracton 
 to his son. The ladies, as Willoughby had ex- 
 pected they would do, had unanimously declared 
 in favour of occupying their bush residence without 
 delay. The expenses they had already incurred 
 amounted to a large sum ; " indeed," as Katharine 
 suggested, *' to the price of a flock of sheep."
 
 THE LADIES EXPECTED. 67 
 
 Willougliby and his mate, therefore, had to haul 
 in the remainder of the stuff for the huts as 
 speedily as possible. And once more John Thomas 
 set off down the road for a load of luggage, and 
 such articles of furniture as were necessary to 
 render this domestic transition tolerable to the 
 less hardy subjects of it. 
 
 f2
 
 68 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 
 Arrival of the Ladies at " the Eocky Springs." — A neigh- 
 bourly visit. — Police Magistrate. — Morgan Brown, the 
 Stockman. 
 
 Morning at length came — a bright sunny morn- 
 ing, whose Avarmth was only chequered, not 
 broken, by the light fluttering airs that blew 
 across the plain, or rather park-like forest, between 
 the township of Ghiagong and DianduUah Moun- 
 tain — when Willoughby, in his usual straightfor- 
 ward, business way, was seen conveying three 
 ladies in the little green ration-cart towards the 
 Rocky Springs. The elder of them, Mrs. Brac- 
 ton, was far past middle age, with an expression 
 of intelligence, benevolence, and firmness, on a 
 face not without furrows, but evidently in days 
 gone by a handsome one ; her hair v»'as raven 
 black, streaked with a few of silver hairs ; and her 
 dress was almost that of a quakeress. Indeed, 
 except for the tasteful bonnet and veil, she might 
 have been mistaken for one, for she was a woman
 
 THE LADIES. 0^ 
 
 of quiet manners and few words. The youngest 
 of the triad, and who sat beside the driver, was of 
 the earUest age to which the courtesy of the other 
 sex accords the coveted rank of womanhood : she 
 was the elder lady's daughter, Marianna ; and her 
 dress was handsome enough for the fashionable 
 streets of London. There was a decision in 
 everything she did and said, that, whilst it par- 
 took in no degree of immodesty, indicated a 
 strong personal will. Her companion, whom she 
 frequently turned back to and addressed in a fond 
 and winning tone as '' sister," though she was her 
 cousin Katharine, more resembled Mrs. Bractoii 
 in external appearance. Her stature was that 
 of a full-grown and graceful woman; her age, per- 
 haps twenty, and her dress simple and elegant.. 
 The eyes of Katharine were a rich and placid 
 hazel, in which only the most sound and unwaver- 
 ing health prevented repose from passing into 
 languor; the brows were fine and beautifully 
 arched, and their lashes distinct without being 
 obtrusive. Fine auburn hair hung, like two rich 
 clusters of the grape, on either side of a face 
 without fault in fairness and in form. She spoke 
 but little, any more than Mrs. Bracton ; ex- 
 cept when Marianna turned towards her those 
 arch gray eyes, and secured her attention. On 
 these occasions, the brief and simple, but just, re-
 
 70 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 plies of Katharine, whilst they seemed some- 
 times to astonish and disconcert Marianna for 
 an instant, were yet uttered with no more 
 than the affectionate and forbearing dignity of a 
 superior. 
 
 The ladies had been attended by Lieutenant 
 Bracton to the nearest point to the Rocky Springs 
 made by the mail; from thence the duty of 
 conducting them to their future home was de- 
 puted to Willoughby : his father having passed on 
 some distance across the country to inspect a 
 couple of flocks of sheep, for which he was in 
 treaty with one of the large flock-masters. 
 
 The attitude and demeanour of the fair exiles 
 portrayed not inadequately their various senti- 
 ments in their new circumstances; — Marianna, 
 with her inexhaustible fund of animal spirits and 
 active intelligence, almost losing all sentiment in 
 the novel impressions of the scenes and objects 
 around, and in curiosity as to what might yet 
 meet her gaze; Katharine, timidly decling sym- 
 pathy with things so strange, but far more happy 
 than any such feeling of interest could make her, 
 in the still rapture of reverie felt by the soul that 
 resigns itself with unflinching trust to the guidance 
 of duty ; and Mrs. Bracton, as all her life she had 
 been, ordinary in her thoughts, innocently correct 
 in her purposes, never so much as dreaming that
 
 MARIAN N A AND KATHARINE. 71 
 
 there was any other way to walk in than that 
 where she was in company with her husband and 
 her children. If any faint desire of other than 
 what really existed occasionally flickered before 
 her mind's eye, it was the wish that Katharine 
 would be a little more talkative, and Marianna a 
 little less so : but that, the latter young lady her- 
 self, whenever her mother was so unlucky as to 
 express such a wish, insisted was prudery, and felt 
 herself much wronged by the covert imputation. 
 
 By this time the occupants of the Rocky 
 Springs had been shown, by the two old hands 
 (the Welshman and the hutkeeper), a way round 
 the point of the lower end of the range, where 
 the creek turned off towards the Morrumbidgee. 
 Along this road, not known to Reuben Kable, 
 Willoughby now approached the station. The 
 journey from Ghiagong had been across all the 
 ups and downs of the grassy surface of the bush : 
 for as yet, though that was the nearest township, 
 no other way-marks assisted the traveller to his 
 course than three or four faint dray-tracks in the 
 green sward ; and, where those failed, occasionally 
 a sight of the distant mountain, behind which the 
 farm was situated. The horse being fagged (for in 
 bush-driving one has to go over many logs and 
 even fallen trees) with the weight of the travellers, 
 and the portion of their luggage that was indispen-
 
 72 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 sable to them, was sufFcrcd to walk at his ease up 
 the creek side and round the point of the bald 
 hill, which Reuben Kable had indicated as a good 
 site for a house. As they passed along its base at 
 a few yards distant, Willoughby pointed it out, 
 adding the comment of his friend. The gaze of 
 Mrs. Bracton turned with more interest than any 
 she had yet shown for the surrounding scenery, 
 and even with a different interest from any she 
 had yet felt, towards the object pointed out. 
 Marianna glanced at it, and remarked, " We have 
 come all this way to enjoy a rural habitation, and 
 such we will now have." But Willoughby had 
 spoken with so much enthusiasm of his Australian 
 friend, that Katharine, if she did no more, won- 
 dered whether this friend of Willoughby 's with 
 the quaker-iike name and the sound judgment 
 which had assisted them so materially at a per- 
 plexing crisis, possessed also the corresponding sim- 
 plicity of character, so intimate in its connection 
 with moral rectitude. The consequence was, that 
 the little green cart was at the hut door before 
 Katharine was sensible of any further features of 
 the locality. 
 
 The hut before which they now stood lay deep 
 in the nook : indeed, nearly at the extremity of its 
 lower side, and a little way up the acclivity of the 
 hill, on a natural flat. One spur of the mountain
 
 SITE OF THE FARM. 73 
 
 rose higher and higher from the spot, running 
 gradually to the height of the main range ; but, in 
 the opposite direction, falling gradually down to 
 the low, round, bald point they had passed by, and 
 so down into the plain. In front of them, a 
 similar and parallel spur ran in like manner from 
 the ridge of the main mountain down to within 
 about the same distance of the creek; whose 
 waters rolled deep, and rapid, and flashing in the 
 sunbeams along in front of the nook, at some 
 fifty paces from the points of the hills. The nook 
 or bight itself, thus formed by the two spurs from 
 the mountain, contained about fifty acres ; of 
 these about ten or a dozen at its inner end were 
 fenced off, by a line of rails running from one hill 
 directly across to the other, and were still covered 
 with the stubble of the last crop. The remainder 
 of the bight was still under grass, kept close 
 cropped by the home cattle; and, stimulated by 
 the late varied weather, it was now covered with 
 the bright green of the rapid vegetation of the 
 climate. Beyond the stream, the open and some- 
 what melancholy plain wore the russet hue of the 
 ripened herbage, rather than that of the new that 
 was shooting up amongst it. And beyond the 
 plain again another mountain rose, terminating 
 the prospect : here, exhibiting trees of glorious 
 verdure ; there, with the sunlight sleeping on its
 
 74 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 bare bosom ; in some places showing great faces of 
 square crag, and again in others the dark mouths 
 of the ravines. 
 
 The hut itself was constructed of rough, upright 
 slabs of split timber, about seven feet high, roofed 
 with bark, and covering an area of about twenty 
 feet in length by fourteen in width, with the door 
 in the middle of one of the longer sides, and the 
 chimney in the middle of one of the shorter : or 
 rather the chimney, which was merely an in- 
 closure slabbed similarly to the hut itself, occu- 
 pied nearly the whole of one end — that next to the 
 main range. All round it, the ground was bare 
 with the constant tread of man and beast. About 
 forty or fifty yards lower down, towards the creek, 
 were to be seen the two smaller new huts just put 
 up ; and still nearer to the bald point of the hill a 
 strong and extensive stockyard, or inclosure of 
 six-rail fence for confining cattle. 
 
 The lively curiosity of the sex soon, however, 
 turned to the more grave task of exploring the 
 interior of their habitation. As yet there was no 
 more than the economical and enduring floor 
 which the first family of our race in their igno- 
 rance supposed was all there needed to be. The 
 hut door opened into a good-sized room, at the 
 further end of which a three-log fire blazed 
 merrily, and none the less so that the#sky had
 
 THE HUT. 75 
 
 begun to get cloud}^ and the wind chill; but 
 another door in a partition which ran across the 
 hut opened into a little passage, on either hand 
 of which were the apartments that Willoughby 
 had had so carefully constructed for the elder 
 and younger ladies respectively. There was 
 no other window than an opening through 
 the slabs, like a ship's port, but provided with 
 a wooden shutter, fastening on the inside. 
 Marianna, at the first glimpse, drew back ; a 
 slight shadow supplanting the usual vivacity of 
 her countenance. Katharine completed her sur- 
 vey with an evident increase of cheerfulness, as if 
 she had become relieved of that vague apprehen- 
 sion which clear but timid minds have of the 
 indefinite. 
 
 The ladies made their first meal in the prevail- 
 ing fashion of the bush, paying their host many 
 compliments on the felicity with which he per- 
 formed the services of the buttery. After their 
 repast, Willoughby escaped the waggery of his 
 standing tormentor by carrying off his pilot-coat 
 and other personal property to his own hut, but not 
 without inviting himself to return to tea ; at which 
 meal it may be supposed that no surprise he could 
 feel, or even feign, would be thought unearned by 
 the fair reformers. All the tin pots were ranged 
 upside down in a solid square in the darkest corner
 
 76 
 
 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 of the hut ; and a favourite co-emigrant cat was 
 teaching her kittens to lap milk out of the best tin 
 meat-dish. There was wood on the fire, certainly ; 
 but it looked as if it had been fetched out of the 
 bush with a pair of parlour tongs ; whilst outside old 
 Caesar, the bull-dog, stood a wary distance off, on 
 legs like four posts, stretching out his head one 
 way and his tail the other, with his eyes fixed on 
 the door — which was now shut in his face for the 
 first time within his remembrance — as if he were 
 resolved to look through it. Meantime, crockery 
 and glass, eau de cologne and scented pocket- 
 handkerchiefs, hair pins and tortoiseshell combs, 
 India shawls, furred mantles, and small aprons 
 almost triangular, were to be seen in all directions, 
 looking like the trappings of a haught}^ satraps in 
 possession of the conquered province of some 
 barbaric empire. Indeed, it was incredible what 
 a variety of operations the two gentle creatures 
 had accomplished in that short time. They had, 
 however, in some measure atoned for other things 
 by getting their bandboxes and trunks into their 
 own more absolute domain, and leaving sufficient 
 room in the hut to move about in. In the course 
 of the evening. Lieutenant Bracton reached home 
 with a guide ; but it w^as so late as only to give 
 him an opportunity, on his first visit to his station, 
 of feeling the pleasantness of the change from a seat
 
 SCENERY. 77 
 
 in the saddle on a damp evening in the bush to one 
 by a cheerful three-log fire in a rainproof hut. 
 
 On inspecting his purchase next day, he fully 
 assented to his son's views of its suitableness and 
 value. Katharine and Marianna, also, were not 
 long, after the grass was pronounced to be dry, 
 before they made Willoughby their pilot to the 
 semicircle of crags, about a mile higher up the flat, 
 off and out of which the main body of the stream 
 finds its way. Of an evening Marianna could 
 give herself up to all the revel of her heart; 
 hemmed in by the dark mountains, as the moon 
 rose, first shining against the opposite heights and 
 then lighting them up further and further down, 
 till it appeared at last over the hill behind the hut, 
 and looked down at the very spot where she stood. 
 Her more timid cousin loved better the sweet and 
 fragrant morning, and a walk to the hill top, 
 the unuttered and unutterable hymn of the pious 
 and pure. 
 
 Nearly six weeks elapsed before the return of 
 the dray with the furniture selected for immediate 
 use. John Thomas fully made good his title to 
 the character he had received; everything was 
 there, and uninjured, except by so much as in- 
 jury is unavoidable to furniture in bush transport. 
 John Thomas's still more important charge, the 
 housemaid, also expressed herself perfectly satis-
 
 75 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 fied with the accommodations she had experienced 
 on the road. It is customary for the bullock- 
 driver to spread the tarpaulin over the dray, so as 
 to form a complete tent, the area of which is the 
 space underneath between the wheels. This being 
 dejure the driver's own nocturnal retreat, he is 
 supposed, when accompanied by a female, to con- 
 sign it to the entire control of his passenger, 
 together with his bedding ; making the best shift 
 his wit and good fortune may enable him to do 
 for himself. 
 
 The arrival of the family in this solitary part of 
 the country had not been altogether unbailed by 
 neighbours. Ghiagong township is about ten miles, 
 perhaps twelve, from the Rocky Springs. Within 
 about a mile of the township resided Lieutenant 
 Bracton's nearest neighbour ; and the first also 
 from whose farm a visitor to his family set forth. 
 It was Mrs. Smart, the lady of the settler in ques- 
 tion, who was so considerate. After the few first 
 days' novelty, and till habit rectified it, the bush 
 was felt to be lonesome ; Mrs. Bracton and the 
 young ladies, therefore, were quite delighted as 
 one fine day about noon, they pointed out to each 
 other a lady on horseback, in a light umber-co- 
 loured habit, riding slowly up the road from the 
 point of the hill toward the hut. The horse had 
 an awkward trick— unless, indeed, it were occa-
 
 " MRS. SMART, MEM ! " 79 
 
 sioned bj the rider's method of managing the 
 bridle — of holding his mouth aloft and wide open, 
 as if perpetually endeavouring to swallow the bit. 
 Behind the lady, at some distance, rode a servant, 
 in a blue jacket but no waistcoat, a pair of Parra- 
 matta trousers, without stockings or gaiters, un- 
 polished lace-ups, and a hat. No gentleman being 
 at hand to assist the lady in alighting, and the 
 man in waiting having stopped to have a yarn at 
 the men's hut door, she almost tumbled over the 
 back of the chair that had been brought out 
 to assist her descent, and was near breaking 
 Marianna's back in recovering herself. The 
 visitor hastened to announce herself to Mrs. 
 Bracton, as "Mrs. Smart, Mem — of Smartville, 
 Mem— near Ghiagong, Mem." Although Mrs. 
 Bracton could not comprehend precisely what 
 particular of the definition was conveyed by the 
 syllable ' mem^ she cordially invited her kind 
 and considerate neighbour into her poor habita- 
 tion. Marianna, whose experience of the manners 
 of their visitor had been so suddenly acquired, 
 stood with compressed lips till ' Mrs. Smart, of 
 Smartville, near Ghiagong,' was well into the 
 hut ; and then the poor girl, unable any longer to 
 contain herself, almost shrieked into Katharine's 
 ear, " Oh ! sister ; she has almost broken my back." 
 Katharine whose heart had all the tenderness
 
 80 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 of a child's, put her arm round her cousin and 
 led her on one side of the hut, saying all she 
 could devise in palliation of Mrs. Smart's awk- 
 wardness ; and when Marianna had overcome the 
 strain, they began to think of going in to make 
 better acquaintance with their neighbour: but 
 Mrs. Smart's volubility became so distinguishable, 
 that they both paused as if by a common instinct. 
 " I am so glad you have come to this part of 
 the country, Mem. I 'm so in want of a female 
 friend ; oh ! you can't think, Mem." (Here there 
 was a pause ; which not eliciting the expected 
 rejoinder, the visitor resumed with great pathos.) 
 " Husbands, Mem, have got their faults, that 
 nobody knows of but their wives. I am sure you 
 must have felt it yourself, Mrs. Bracton, Mem." 
 
 Marianna turned with uplifted hands to her 
 cousin, and exclaimed, " Is n't that av^^ful ? What 
 will mama do! We had better go in to her." 
 But before she came to the rescue of her mother, 
 the lady of Smartville was heard again. 
 
 '* The two young ladies your daughters, Mem?" 
 *' One of them is my daughter, the other my 
 niece," said Mrs. Bracton. 
 
 "The short young lady your niece, I suppose?" 
 "No, Mrs. Smart," replied Mrs. Bracton, with 
 a very carefully-modulated tone. " The tallest of 
 them is my niece."
 
 MRS. SMART. 81 
 
 " Oh ! I see, Mem ; a poor relation. We ought 
 to take care of our poor relations. Makes me 
 ask, I 've got poor relations of my own. I send 
 home my little boy's cast shoes and frocks every 
 year reg'lar (that is, when I can find any- 
 body that 's going) to my sister. She 's getting 
 a family, Mem, without end, poor thing ! I 
 sometimes think she '11 never be done. Now, 
 I 've only got one. But, oh ! such a boy, 
 Mem!" 
 
 Marianna, having a little regained her equani- 
 mity after being libelled as short, now straightened 
 herself as well as Mrs. Smart's token of attach- 
 ment permitted her, and followed Katharine in, to 
 the great relief of Mrs. Bracton. Katharine 
 seated herself by their visitor, with the view of 
 engaging her from further annoying her aunt; 
 Marianna sat down opposite beside her mother. 
 The pain of the wrench struck her again as she 
 sat down, and her countenance became alternately 
 flushed and pale. 
 
 " Dear me, Mem !" exclaimed their visitor, 
 " that young lady looks very bad." 
 
 " My dear ! " said Mrs. Bracton in alarm, " what 
 is the matter with you V 
 
 *' Only a little faint with the heat of the day, 
 mama." 
 
 " Oh ! fainting fits, Mrs. Bracton. No conse- 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 82 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 queiice, you know. I was the same myself. A 
 little sal-volatile 's a good thing." 
 
 " Mrs.. Smart," said Katharine, who saw that 
 something must be done to bring the present state 
 of affairs to as early a conclusion as possible, and 
 had risen and set the tray with some refreshments ; 
 *'you have a long way to ride back, and the 
 days are getting very short, now ; pray make a 
 hearty lunch before you set off." 
 
 Mrs. Smart hastened with alacrity to take 
 Katharine at her word. *' I suppose, you haven't 
 got a gherkin, Miss," she, however, inquired almost 
 immediately. 
 
 " No, we have not," said Katharine. " We 
 have yet only just what we could get into our 
 boxes, coming by the mail." 
 
 "Oh!" proceeded Mrs. Smart, "you can get 
 anything you want at the township. They have 
 everything at the stores, from a needle to an 
 anchor. He 's an old Jew, Miss, that keeps it. 
 Such an ugly old man ! I wonder the prisoners 
 some of these nio;hts don't break in and murder 
 him, and take all he 's got. But there, it 's no 
 use talking : the devil's children will have the 
 devil's luck. Thej^'re a dreadful set, Mem, these 
 convicts : you nmst flog, flog, flog, or else they '11 
 do nothino;. There's nothinp; too hot nor too 
 heavy for them: anything that's an inch high.
 
 MRS. SMART. 83 
 
 or an hour old, only leave it in their way, and I'll 
 go bail yon never clap eyes on it again.' ' 
 
 Mrs. Smart was still proceeding with her 
 descant, when Lieutenant Bracton was descried 
 approaching. 
 
 ** Here's papa!" exclaimed Marianna. 
 
 " Yes, Mem ; it 's what made me come and see , 
 you, that I heard as your good gentleman was a 
 leeftennant. Mr. Smart, Mem, will have great 
 pleasure to do him the honour of making his 
 acquaintance : but, deary me, I ought to sa}'' 
 Leeftennant Smart, now your good gentleman's 
 come among us ; but I 've got so in the way of 
 saying Mister, Mister, since we 've been out of the 
 army, and up here among these settlers, that it 
 always goes out of my head." 
 
 At this instant Lieutenant Bracton entered. The 
 old gentleman was, both by nature and principle, 
 too kind hearted willingly to wound the feelings 
 of any one, much less of a neighbour and a woman, 
 for the neighbourly and womanly action of trying 
 to enliven the early solitude of his household ; 
 but it required all his self-command and tenacity 
 of purpose to retain his post inoffensively. 
 
 Before Mrs. Smart rose to leave, however, some- 
 thing had strangely altered the style of her con- 
 versation. She never came again. And Mr. 
 Smart himself, a very plain, worthy man, when 
 
 g2
 
 84 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 Mr. Bracton met him in the township sometime 
 afterwards, made no hesitation in acknowledging 
 that he had received his commission for a long 
 course of good conduct in the ranks, and had at 
 length made the best of his means by establishing 
 himself as a settler. 
 
 In the course of five or six days afterwards, 
 another neighbour appeared at the hut door of 
 " the Rocky Springs." A great clatter of horses' 
 hoofs was heard coming rapidly down the hill 
 through the bush, while the ladies w^ere at dinner 
 by themselves. Their brother and father being 
 out on horseback, it w^as supposed to be them ; 
 and Marianna, ever eager to greet her father's 
 approach, rose and ran to the door, and was flying 
 out with her usual joyous welcome, when, to her 
 infinite surprise, there sat still on his horse, in 
 the act of leaning forward to knock on the door 
 with the handle of his whip, a young gentlemanly 
 person of about two-and-twenty, with piercing 
 black eyes, which instantly met hers. 
 
 " You supposed it was your father, Miss 
 Bracton," said the horseman, with a smile which 
 he evidently tried to suppress. '* Don't let 
 me disturb you ; you are probably at dinner ? " 
 Katharine now came forward to her cousin's side, 
 as Marianna drew back. '* The business of my 
 ill-timed inroad, ladies," said the horseman, who
 
 MR. HUIJLEY. 85 
 
 they now saw had heavy pistols at his holsters, 
 and a couple of mounted troopers in his rear, 
 " is to say, that if you will give my constables 
 and horse -police a night's quarters in one of your 
 huts when they come this way, they shall always 
 do so when they can by any means take this 
 place in their road to wherever they may be 
 despatched. My name is Hurley ; I hold the 
 office of police magistrate at the neighbouring 
 township of Ghiagong." 
 
 " I am sure it is very kind of you, indeed, 
 Mr. Hurley," said Katharine. *' You will alight ? 
 We cannot set anything better than a mutton 
 chop before you ; that is the extent of our larder." 
 
 Mr. Hurley's eyes wandered for an instant 
 again to the face of Marianna, who unconsciously 
 withdrew a couple of paces. The temptation 
 seemed too great to resist: "Well," he said, 
 " with such a frank invitation, I suppose I ought 
 to secure your acquaintance whilst I have the 
 opportunity." And, dismounting, he followed his 
 fair conductress in. 
 
 Mr. Hurley remained about an hour ; the 
 troopers taking the opportunity of unpacking 
 their bush viands, and refreshing themselves at 
 the men's hut. He informed the ladies that there 
 was no existing danger from either bushrangers 
 or the natives, — all was quiet ; but he had con-
 
 86 THE £MIGRAx\T FAMILY. 
 
 sidered that for it to be known that the station, 
 lonely as it was, was continually visited by the 
 police would be a great protection in case any 
 marauding parties should hereafter be out. To 
 their great delight, also, they found him fully 
 competent to chat with them about the gay and 
 amusing scenes of London, where he had studied 
 in one of the Inns of Court. Mr. Hurley at 
 length paid his devoirs and rode away, after taking 
 an opportunity, whilst Katharine had gone into 
 the sanctum for a sketch which the cousins had 
 made of the view from the hill, to express his 
 self-gratulations to Marianna at having made her 
 acquaintance. 
 
 Mr. Bracton did not reach home till evening, 
 when Willoughby returned with him, having been 
 nearly all day at the township on business. 
 
 " Brother," said Marianna, shortly after the 
 party had taken their places at the evening meal, 
 *' your visits to the township are growing very 
 suspicious." 
 
 " How is that ?" asked Willoughby. 
 " They become so frequent and so protracted." 
 '' Well ! what do you argue from that?" 
 " Only, perhaps, a little further development 
 of your thrifty habits ! Well, if you can make your 
 fortune all at once, brother, we '11 put up with 
 a little peculiarity in the mode ; only you must
 
 MR. HURLEY. 87 
 
 make sure that it really is something worth 
 while." 
 
 " I really don't know w4iat you mean ?" said 
 Willoughby. 
 
 " The day you brought us from the township, 
 you looked very hard at the pretty young Jewess 
 at the store door, and turned, if you recollect, 
 after we had passed, to look again." 
 
 *' My sister, papa," said Katharine, '* should 
 add her own confessions to those she is making 
 in behalf of Willoughby. There has been a 
 gentleman here to-day, called Mr. Hurley, — is it 
 not, Marianna? And, if her usual way of quizzing 
 and annoying most those she likes best is any 
 criterion, he is high in her favour already." 
 
 It was now Marianna's turn to exhibit a degree 
 of discomposure she had unsuccessfully endeavoured 
 to elicit from her brother. 
 
 " But," continued Katharine, "the most amusing 
 part of it was, he seemed perfectly to understand 
 it all on the instant. He assumed to be quite at 
 his ease, — talked with everybody but her, — and 
 the more she quizzed him the more he seemed to 
 enjoy himself; I must say that for keeping his 
 countenance he did credit to his profession: it 
 was really rich. But when he was going, and 
 sister stood sulking yonder, he almost walked over 
 mama and me to her, and said, * Miss Bracton»
 
 88 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 how am I so unhappy as not to have an invitation 
 from you, as well as from Mrs. Bracton and Miss 
 Katharine?'" 
 
 " I met Mr. Hurley to-day," said Lieutenant 
 Bracton, " and he told me of his call ; he seems 
 a very well-educated and gentlemanly young man. 
 I invited him to ride over whenever he found him- 
 self at liberty to do so, and he accepted the 
 invitation with some marks of pleasure ; which, 
 as you were his principal and most courteous 
 entertainer, must, of course, Miss Katharine, be 
 on your account." 
 
 '^ Oh, no, sir," said Katharine, " you know that, 
 notwithstanding my twelvemonth's seniority, I am 
 doomed to cousin Willoughby : at least so they 
 used to say at home.*' 
 
 " Well, Kate," said Willoughby, " we '11 make 
 a fair bargain ; if you can suit yourself better, 
 do so, and I '11 do the same : but it's to be under- 
 stood that we are not to forget one another." 
 
 Next day brought another visitor to the Rocky 
 Springs; one, however, to whom the place was 
 well enough known already, though not the new 
 inhabitants. This was Morgan Brown, a stock- 
 man, having charge of a herd of cattle belonging 
 to a gentleman in Sydney, at a station called 
 Coolarama Creek, about twelve miles further 
 into the interior. It should be here mentioned
 
 stockmen's practices. 89 
 
 that the method of depasturage in New South 
 Wales is bj selecting some tract of ground which 
 affords good grass and water, and building upon 
 it (if for horned cattle) a hut and stockyard ; one 
 man is placed as hutkeeper, whose duty it is 
 to be constantly at home, and another, called the 
 stockman, whose duty consists in riding constantly 
 about the run, "heading-off" strange cattle, and 
 tracing and driving in again any of his own that 
 stray away. The method pursued with sheep is 
 only just so far varied as the difference of the 
 animal requires. These stockmen are, almost 
 without exception, unprincipled characters ; for 
 if not such when invested with the office, its 
 unavoidable license and temptations soon effect a 
 change for the worse : they continually meet with 
 cattle in the bush without owners ; some never 
 branded, others which have strayed so far that 
 no one about the part knows whose brand it is 
 they bear. These, of course, there is every 
 temptation to appropriate and sell; and from 
 selling such chance prizes as these, it is but a step 
 to leaving some of their own master's cattle un- 
 branded, and selling them in due time ; or even 
 fixing a brand of their own upon them, and 
 reserving them till they have gathered a little 
 herd. But, as these stockmen are continually tra- 
 versing each other's runs, and becoming acquainted
 
 90 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 with all the other herds in the vicinity, it is 
 almost inevitable that they should detect each 
 other's malversations ; consequently, to secure 
 themselves from mutual betrayal, they act upon a 
 system of complicity, — it is understood among 
 stockmen that nothing need be concealed from 
 each other. The novices, however, are always 
 tried carefully before they are trusted ; but, gene- 
 rally, it may be said that wherever cattle-stealing 
 is going on, the whole of the stockmen are hand- 
 and-glove in it. Such was the case at the stations 
 along the Morrumbidgee River, in the vicinity of 
 which Lieutenant Bracton had settled, 
 
 Morgan Brown's business now was to find out 
 what sort of a hand the black overseer was likely 
 to turn out. It was known among the stockmen 
 that the late proprietor had some cattle remaining 
 in the mountains, which he had never been able to 
 get in ; and the question was, whether Martin 
 Beck knew of them, and, if he did, whether a 
 bargain could be knocked up about them with 
 him. 
 
 It was about sundown when Morgan Brown 
 rode up to the hut which Willoughby Bracton 
 contented himself for the present to share with 
 his overseer. Willoughby was up at the large hut 
 at tea, and one of the men was preparing tea for 
 Martin Beck, who was out.
 
 MORGAN BROWN. 91 
 
 *' Have you got any room here ? " asked Brown, 
 as he threw himself out of his short stirrups. 
 
 Stockmen always ride with short stirrups, partly 
 to save their feet in going over logs, partly for the 
 power it gives of swaying the body to and fro to 
 escape the limbs of trees, and also for ease ; as 
 they are often in the saddle twelve hours a day for 
 many days together. 
 
 Morgan Brown, however, was not asking a 
 question ; he was merely signifying, in the cus- 
 tomary way, that he meant to stop there that 
 night; and accordingly, without waiting for any 
 reply, he buckled on his horse's hobbles, took off 
 the saddle and bridle, carried them into the hut, 
 and turned the animal off to graze on the flat 
 below. 
 
 " Come," he said, as he threw himself on one of 
 the berths, " how long do you mean to be getting 
 that tea ready, young fellow ? Here, just give us 
 a coal on this pipe. — You 're the lad ! — Budgery 
 you in your own gunyah. Where 's your over- 
 seer ?— This is his hut is n't it ?" 
 
 *' Yes," said the man. '' He '11 be here di- 
 rectly." 
 
 " What sort of a lad is this cove of yours ? Is 
 he a sea-lieutenant or a soldier ?" 
 
 " Sailor," was the reply. 
 
 The stockkeepers affect a rough, bullying way.
 
 92 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 which generally obtains for them a sort of un- 
 willing civility from the working hands. 
 
 " I say, what sort of a customer is this black ? 
 Does he know anything about stock ?" 
 
 " He 's a very good hand among stock." 
 
 "How many cattle have these people got?" 
 
 " Not many yet ; but they 've bought a large 
 herd, and they 're coming on to the run in a few 
 days : the overseer 's repairing the stockyard now 
 for branding." 
 
 " Oh, then he 's a fencer as well ?" 
 
 " He 's a rattling good hand in anything at all 
 about a farm. He ropes a beast as well as ever I 
 saw a man." 
 
 "Not afraid at all?" 
 
 « Not him." 
 
 " Humph ! " grunted the inquirer, throwing 
 himself back again on the berth. " If that '« the 
 case," he proceeded, silently ruminating, '^ we 
 must have him for a pal ; or else we shall have 
 him for an enemy." 
 
 Martin Beck now came in ; and the man, who 
 had got ready another pot of tea for the new 
 comer, put the meat and damper on the table, and 
 went away to his own supper. Martin Beck, im- 
 mediately he caught sight of the fresh saddle, and 
 its owner in self-satisfied possession of one of the 
 berths, stretched at full length smoking his short
 
 MORGAN BROWN. 93 
 
 pipe, knew that his guest was a stockman, sta- 
 tioned so near as to feel it his right to make him- 
 self at home anywhere about the part. 
 
 '' This is a new hut since I was on this ground 
 last," began the visitor. 
 
 **Ay; it's only up a few days. Are you 
 stock keeping anywhere about here ? " 
 
 " Coolarama Creek," said Brown. " Your cove 
 got many coming?" 
 
 "About three hundred head, I hear," replied 
 Beck. 
 
 " Who is to be stockman ?"J 
 
 " I shall look after them myself, for the pre- 
 sent," said Beck. *'I believe they mean to have 
 a station between here and your place, at that big 
 water-hole in the white-gum flat. When they do 
 that, there must be somebody sent after them." 
 
 " A station at the white-gum flat ! " shouted 
 Morgan Brown. *' There it is again : there '11 be 
 stations every half mile, I suppose, directly. Why, 
 there 's not enough for the cattle that are on the 
 ground ! " — the whole bush was covered with feed. 
 " Well, when my time 's up, I '11 be off* out of 
 this part ; there 's getting too many stations for 
 me. When I came up here first, my cattle had a 
 run twenty miles every way ; then it was ten ; and 
 now, here 's going to be three hundred head stuck 
 down within six miles of our hut. A man might
 
 94 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 as well go stockkeeping in the middle of George 
 Street." 
 
 All this perfectly coincided with Martin Beck's 
 own notions and sentiments ; though so inappro- 
 priate to his present position, that he was cautious 
 of expressing his concurrence. 
 
 Morgan Brown, meantime, had worked himself 
 up into a feeling of despair about his future pro- 
 spects in the cattle-stealing line, which made him 
 almost careless about securing Martin's complicity. 
 Martin consequently became the inquisitor in 
 turn ; for, as will be hereafter seen, he was deeply 
 implicated in this dishonest practice, and even 
 had been addicted to it for years. Intending to 
 remain in this retired part of the country for some 
 time, he felt as desirous of coming to an under- 
 standing with Morgan, as Morgan till now with 
 him. 
 
 ''Are there any 'Rooshans' in the mountains?" 
 he inquired, in that quiet, deliberate way which 
 we have already observed him using, when he 
 overcame his stammer for a particular purpose. 
 His purpose on this occasion was, by an easy, 
 even tone, to throw the stockman off his guard ; 
 but he was not aware what questions had been 
 put and solved about himself before he came in. 
 
 The light dawned instantly on Morgan Brown, 
 who replied, "I believe you, my lad; and some
 
 WILD CATTLE. 95 
 
 rum 'uns. I know of four or five young cattle 
 now, that never felt the heat of a brand yet." 
 
 " And no down ? " rapidly inquired Beck, his 
 voice falling again into its natural tone and stam^ 
 mer, as Morgan's unexpected confidence threw 
 him in turn off his guard. 
 
 ** Not a bit of a down," responded the stock 
 man, emphatically. 
 
 " That 's the go !" said Beck : " they 're doing 
 nobody any good where they are," 
 
 The understanding was perfect. It would but 
 weary and unnecessarily offend the reader to listen 
 any further to the conversation of two such men. 
 They sat down to their meal, meantime, as if an 
 acquaintance of half a century already subsisted 
 between them. And Martin, mindful that he 
 might need the same hospitalities himself here- 
 after at Morgan's hut, as his berth and bed were 
 not wide enough for two, supplied his accomplice 
 with all but his last blanket; which, with the 
 stockman's own opossum cloak, made a comfort- 
 able shakedown, on a sheet of dry bark before the 
 fire ; the saddle being, as usual, the pillow. 
 
 The arrival of the herd of cattle purchased by 
 Lieutenant Bracton, and of the dray with its load 
 from Sydney, were the only incidents that oc 
 curred for some weeks. Mr. Hurley, however, 
 instead of sending the police round by the Rocky
 
 96 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 Springs, adopted Lieutenant Bracton's suggestion, 
 and came himself. Not rare were his visits, nor 
 hasty his departures ; but we do not find that his 
 company was ever considered unwelcome or ill- 
 timed ; although more than once, before the ad- 
 dition to the household of their female servant, he 
 surprised his two fair acquaintances whilst deeply 
 involved in the several duties of Suds Prima and 
 Secunda,
 
 JOURNEY TO THE STORE. 97 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 The Township of Ghiagong. — The Jew Storekeeper. — The 
 young Jewess. — Rachael at home. 
 
 The ladies had hoped that on the arrival of the 
 dray from Sydney they should find all their 
 wants and wishes supplied ; but it turned out, as 
 it always does, that a number of important and 
 (they thought) indispensable minutiae had been 
 neglected in the selection. 
 
 It became necessary, therefore, to have recourse 
 to the Store at the township, and Marianna was 
 fixed upon as plenipotentiary for the domestic 
 part of the purchases, Willoughby accompany- 
 ing her to select some needful farm implements, 
 &c. Once more the gay-hearted girl sprang 
 lightly into the little green cart, not a little enjoy- 
 ing the prospect of effecting a satisfactory detec- 
 tion of the partiality she had persuaded herself 
 her brother entertained for the pretty Hebrew, 
 and indicating as much by silent tokens to 
 her cousin. 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 98 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY 
 
 It was a delightful morning ; the serenity that a 
 retired life amidst the stillness of solemn forests 
 and lofty hills, and tracts of level plain and lucid 
 waters, brings home into the hearts of almost all, 
 had not failed to influence Marianna's nature : one 
 of the most sensitive to outward impressions. As 
 they rode cheerily along the sunny greensward, and 
 beneath the shadows of the trees, her lips forgot 
 their customary prattle, and, like two rosy infants 
 wiled from their merry struggles, pillowed them- 
 selves against each other in repose. 
 
 The township of Ghiagong (for it becomes more 
 proper now than hitherto to retain the native 
 names) occupies a spot on the left bank of 
 the Morrumbidgee, at about ten or twelve miles 
 distant from the Rocky Springs — the horseman 
 estimates it at ten, the pedestrian at twelve, and 
 as yet no authoritative decision of the controversy 
 has been made by the verdict of a surveyor. 
 Suddenly the tract of light, open gum trees— the 
 advanced guard of the forest veterans — is passed, 
 and a plain covered with fine grass, and swept on 
 three sides by the river, opens to the traveller. 
 The little clear area is a natural plain; only an 
 odd tree here and there, and far apart, has ever 
 appeared upon it ; and those have long ago fallen 
 beneath the axe of the hutkeeper, for firewood. 
 The Morrumbidgee is here in the early part of its
 
 GHIAGONG TOWNSHIP. 99 
 
 career, and has not yet received the waters of the 
 hundred giant valleys which eventually drain 
 down to the immense flat country through which 
 it makes its way to the Murray ; up to this point 
 the stream is chiefly the product of a compara- 
 tively small tract of mountain country, and of the 
 flats in immediate propinquity below. Hence its 
 reaches and bends, not struck out boldly by the 
 force of a voluminous stream, are on a scale of 
 much inferior magnitude to that which mark 
 them further down. At Ghiagong, the river meets 
 the corner of elevated ground that has been fixed 
 on for a township, and, diverted from a straight 
 course, wanders round its base, leaving high and 
 precipitous banks on that side, till it finds ground 
 low enough for its onward progress on the other. 
 
 This open and slightly elevated tract of land is 
 of too irregular a shape to be accurately described 
 by terms ; but it measures about three-quarters of 
 a mile in length, by half a mile in breadth ; its 
 narrowest part being from the river to the bush 
 behind, its greatest length running from end to 
 end of the curve. The settlement had been made 
 at that extremity of the little plain where the 
 river, first checked, begins to wind round it. 
 
 Few things momentarily perplex the association 
 of ideas in the mind of a newly-arrived inhabitant 
 of old countries, more than the first siffht of an
 
 100 
 
 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 Australian township in its very earliest days : 
 where he expects to find streets and a throng of 
 men, he often meets with no more than half a 
 dozen buildings of the most various description, 
 scattered without order and far apart ; whilst, at 
 times, he may watch the spot for an hour without 
 seeing half a dozen persons. When the visitors from 
 the Rocky Springs approached Ghiagong on the 
 morning in question, such was the case. As they 
 emerged from the bush, on the left of them lay 
 extended the yet unoccupied plain ; on the right, 
 the few buildings dignified by the title of the 
 township. Nearest, and with its back line toward 
 them, there was the Store, a common erection of 
 slabs, with no more than a ground story, bark 
 roofed, and between forty and fifty feet long by 
 twenty deep. Opposite, nearly a quarter of a 
 mile distant, and facing them, stood the Court 
 House, with a dwelling attached for the resident 
 magistrate, and a lock-up in the rear; its solid 
 stone material and rigid architecture readily 
 suggesting the uses to which it was devoted. To 
 the right of the store, at about the same distance, 
 and thus forming a triangle with the Court House, 
 was the little public-house, lately established, whilst 
 over the intermediate space were scattered five or 
 six huts, from the little plastered and whitewashed 
 cottage of two rooms, down to the bark tent jus
 
 THE JEW STOREKEEPER. 101 
 
 large enough to cover a bed for a pair of 
 fencers. 
 
 The proprietor of the store, Lazarus Moses, 
 commonly called Lazarus, was very aged, but by 
 no means deserved the description accorded him 
 by the refined taste of Mrs. Smart ; on the con- 
 trary, he was a remarkably fine specimen of the 
 green old age of an Israelite. His eyes, after 
 nearly eighty years' active use, were still clear and 
 brilliant, and his intellect performed all its func- 
 tions with unimpaired accuracy. Only at times, 
 of late, his daughter, who could compare the 
 present with the past, thought or feared, that she 
 sometimes detected a failure of outward objects 
 to reach the inner faculties v.dth their accus- 
 tomed force, and an indecisiveness of judgment 
 and a hesitation of will that had not always 
 * characterized her father ; but so slightly that she 
 readily trusted, and cheerfully hoped, that the 
 notion had no other ground than in the appre- 
 hensiveness of her own affection. 
 
 As they drove round the end of the store, the 
 first thing they saw was one of those strong, well- 
 boned bays so prevalent among stock horses, 
 standing in the warm sunlight, saddled, and 
 having his bridle hung on the hook at the door- 
 post. Over the saddle were slung a pair of two- 
 gallon stone bottles, and which, when the horse-
 
 102 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 man was mounted, would fall somewhere about 
 under the bend of his leg. Alighting and passing 
 into the store, they found Mr. Moses busy with a 
 purchaser. It was Morgan Brown, the stockman 
 stationed at Coolarama Creek. 
 
 The Jew received his new customers with all 
 that eagerness and those propitiating courtesies 
 , which characterize the business transactions of his 
 race ; abandoning, for a time, the stockman, who 
 was inspecting some articles of apparel, to secure 
 the orders of Mr. Bracton and his sister. 
 
 *' Rashael — Ho ! Rashael ! Bashael ! Von of 
 de yong lady vat is come to Diandullah Mountain. 
 Vot can I find for you, my goot sir? Every- 
 ting here vat can be vant at a new farm : — boot, 
 baragan-fustian, slops for your men, pocket-knife ; 
 — best teas at half a crown, goot sugar twopence ; 
 rum, gin, prandy, all as good as from de bonded 
 store. Ugh ! " (he concluded, as the recollection 
 of the queen's inexorable rates, admitting of no 
 abatement, passed through his mind) " I buy very 
 dear, and sell very sheap !" 
 
 Rachael had made her appearance ; but in the 
 surpassing loveliness of the young female who 
 now stood before her, Marianna Bracton, though 
 well used to the loveliness of her sex decked in 
 their richest attire, utterly forgot to turn her 
 intended gaze upon her brother and scrutinize his
 
 THE YOUNG JEWESS. 103 
 
 thoughts. It was no longer the pretty young 
 Jewess she had heard of, and glanced at as they 
 drove by, but a being on whose outward presence 
 she saw womanhood so gloriously emblazoned, that 
 her heart yearned to embrace her, and call her 
 " sister." The Hebrew girl blushed deeply, and 
 Marianna instinctively turned to give her brother 
 a mute reproof: but his face was unflushed ; his 
 brows were firm ; his eye was only bright with 
 intellectual admiration: she felt that it was the 
 slow of her own bosom that must have awakened 
 those throbbings in the bosom of the young 
 Jewess, and tinted her cheek so deepl}^ 
 
 " Veil, veil," broke in the sound of the old 
 man's voice, as the stockman rode away from the 
 door, " I gif you as mosh as any von for th& 
 shkins, bot I vill not puy any prand. Shkins is 
 very goot property ; but the prand — no, no." It is 
 necessary to explain that an unbranded skin may 
 be purchased without its endangeriug the estab- 
 lishment of guilty cognisance by the purchaser; 
 but in the purchase of a branded skin, he is expected 
 to satisfy himself that the brand is that of the vendor; 
 or that the vendor is authorized by the owner. 
 
 " Veil, my goot sir," continued he, turning to 
 Willoughby ; " Vot goots to-day ? Some first- 
 rate vaistcoats for your men — best silk plush — 
 only four dollars — saltbox pocket. There, I
 
 104 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 shall put you up von dozen at three dollars. No ? 
 Veil ! I haf not take as mosh ready monish 
 this veek as pay vat the interesht of my monish 
 come to." 
 
 That such a statement by an old trader may 
 not discourage others in their adventures, a little 
 comment is necessary. The currency of the 
 interior very rarely lakes the form of ready 
 money; it is chiefly in drafts, &c. on houses in 
 Sydney, which the parties holding present on 
 making their purchase at these stores ; and thus, 
 instead of paying in ready money at them, cus- 
 tomers expect to receive their balance in small 
 change. The dealers then send or carry the 
 paper money they collect, when it amounts to a 
 considerable sum, to Sydney, and tJiere turn it 
 into cash. 
 
 *' Come, my goot, sir; look about. I vill take 
 your father's order for von tousand pound," said 
 the old man. 
 
 " Nails, Mr. Moses, are the main thing I want ; 
 some three inch spikes, some batten nails, and 
 some shingle nails." 
 
 The storekeeper proceeded to call his occa- 
 sional porter, -who divided his services between 
 the township-store and the public-house, to get 
 out some bags of the articles required. 
 
 Willoughby took the opportunity, as invited, to
 
 THE STORE AND GOODS. 105 
 
 inspect the stock. He seemed to be in a sort of 
 Noah's-ark in the goods line. At the farther end 
 stood ranged a row of casks and puncheons, 
 containing spirits and wines ; along the back were 
 various ample tiers of shelves, here displaying 
 piles of cotton prints and calicos; there were 
 ranged tin-ware and ironmongery of all sorts, 
 from the tin-quart to the three-legged iron pot; 
 in one place there were stocks of boots and shoes, 
 male and female, in another groceries of all sorts 
 from spices to cheese ; muslin and lace and ribbon 
 boxes, and rolls of the best cloth were piled not 
 far from bundles of canvass and the coarsest wool 
 baggings ; while hoe and axe heads, saws of all 
 sorts and sizes, and all that *' too-numerous-to- 
 mention" order of goods, were stowed away in 
 odd corners. A long shilleen or low building, 
 annexed, under a sloping roof, to the main store, 
 opened into it by small doors in the back ; and in it 
 were ranged all the heavier goods, such as bags of 
 nails, sugar in the mat, &c. &c. And on the 
 outside might be heard by day the frequent rattle 
 of the chain of a fierce and large watchdog, as he 
 contended against the flies ; and his bay by night. 
 The young man's survey of the merchandize was 
 several times intermitted to draw near to where his 
 sister and the Jewess were busily engaged in their 
 traffic. But he drew near only to gaze and listen.
 
 106 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 and urge himself away again with a sort of smile 
 of wonder; he had no thought of such a thing as 
 to fall in love with a Jewess. 
 
 Mr. Moses at length returned, bringing with him 
 the man he had been in search of. The selection 
 of the nails along with other things occupied a 
 considerable time; and when everything was ready 
 for stowing away in the cart, a sharp rain was 
 found to have commenced. On turning to look 
 for his sister, Willoughby observed her smiling at 
 him from the opposite side of the pembroke table 
 that stood in the apartment from which Rachael 
 had come, at her father's summons, on their arrival. 
 It was merely a portion of the main building 
 divided off by a line of slabs ; but it was ceiled 
 with barkj leaving a loft above; and the slabs 
 were plastered and whitewashed. It was also 
 handsomely furnished; for none are more given 
 than are the Jews to surround themselves within 
 doors with the little elegances of life : — always a 
 token, when nationally customary, of refined feel- 
 ing. Rather more than half of the area thus 
 walled off from the store was furnished as a 
 sitting-room ; the other portion being again divided 
 into two small sleeping apartments. 
 
 As Marianna caught her brother's eye, she 
 lifted her finger, and, with something that looked 
 very much like exultation, pointed it toward the
 
 RACHAEL AT HOME. 107 
 
 small glass window, against which the rain was 
 beating fast and audibly. He also saw that her 
 bonnet and gloves were off, and that the de- 
 canters and a plate of very tempting cake had 
 been placed upon the table. Rachael, also, who 
 appeared to be partly enjoying Marianna's de- 
 light, and partly thinking seriously about the 
 inconvenience the rain would be likely to cause 
 her, rose the instant she saw that Willoughby 
 had completed his loading, and inviting him to 
 the chair she left, placed another for herself by 
 Marianna. But before seating herself, Rachael 
 stepped forward again, and placing the cake and 
 wine before him said, with a scarcely perceptible 
 failure of good accent and phraseology, as she 
 turned to Marianna — " I will make you help your- ' 
 self, and then you will come again. It seems to 
 me as if I had known you a great many years," 
 she added smiling, but yet with an expression of 
 voice and feature in which lurked something of 
 sadness. 
 
 " It seems to me, Rachael, as if I had known 
 you a great many years," replied Marianna ; and, 
 touched by the plaintive tones of the voice, she 
 turned and placed her hand on the Jewess's arm. 
 " Well, I must prove your friendship," she conti- 
 nued mirthfully, after an instant's pause. " You 
 have invited me to stay with you till to-morrow, if
 
 108 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 it continues raining; and although I said No, I 
 assure you I meant Yes." 
 
 ** I am so glad to hear you say so!" exclaimed 
 the Jewess ; " I often wish that my father would 
 live where we could see our people. Our life here 
 is like that of a bird in the wilderness. To see 
 them," she added, in the same tone that had before 
 attracted Marianna's attention, " would be some- 
 thing." 
 
 Marianna again looked inquiringly into her 
 face ; but Rachael appeared unconscious of the 
 effect of her last remark, and entered into no ex- 
 planation of it. 
 
 The rain beat down more vehemently as the 
 day advanced. A tarpaulin had been thrown over 
 the purchases in the cart, as a temporary protec- 
 tion ; and some empty bags, according to custom, 
 had been lent to the poor dumb helper of man's 
 labours, for a great-coat. But the bush must have 
 become so swampy, and the difficulty of keeping 
 the right direction, where the tracks were faint, 
 so increased by the impossibility of discerning the 
 mountain through the rain and haze, that Wil- 
 loughby readily yielded to the old storekeeper's 
 persuasions to remove the goods again into the 
 store, and ride home in the saddle. He saw that 
 he need not commend his sister to the care of her 
 young hostess; and the wealth of Lazarus was
 
 KACHAEL AT HOME. 109 
 
 notoriously such as to render the obligation one of 
 no moment to him as a matter of cost. The old 
 man, moreover, seemed to kindle into a new viva- 
 city at the mention of the arrangement by his 
 daughter; and none the less when he saw the 
 young Gentile lady leaning on the arm of his be- 
 loved child, as they came into the store together 
 to look out at the weather. Instead of feeling 
 any hesitation about leaving Marianna in the Jew's 
 dwelling, Willoughby felt — what all feel who ob- 
 serve the Jews in their own families — how 
 strangely vulgar estimation libels the Hebrew 
 race. 
 
 *' Poor fellow, what a wretched journey he will 
 have !" exclaimed Marianna, as Willoughby at last 
 dashed off across the half-deluged plain : " and it 
 is almost dark, too." 
 
 "I have heard say," said Rachael, "that men 
 have a joy in strife of every kind ; that it is their 
 nature to struggle with the elements, to subjugate 
 wild lands, to hunt the fierce beasts of the desert, 
 and — but oh, what a delusion and a vanity that 
 must be ! — to destroy one another, for the mere 
 gratification of their passions." 
 
 No more customers came to the store that night. 
 The doors were soon closed and barred, and the 
 evening meal was placed upon the board : the 
 kettle of the little Hebrew family sang much as
 
 110 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 Christian people's kettles are wont to sing. Mari- 
 anna saw, with mingled emotions of awe, and love, 
 and joy, that after the meal was partaken of, both 
 the silver-haired ancient and the black- tressed 
 maiden were silent for a time, with heads bowed 
 down, as those who give thanks for the bounties 
 of the Creator. 
 
 The operations connected with the removal of 
 the equipage of the tea-table, and its restitution 
 to a state of fitness for fresh service, presented an 
 opportunity for Miss Bracton to show how adept 
 she had already become in the performance of the 
 duties demanded of her by her new style of life. 
 Still, Rachael had more than once to suppress a 
 smile or blush at some amusing inadequacy, or droll 
 mistake, of her visitor. Before their task was com- 
 pleted, the old man arose, and Rachael hastened 
 to receive her father's evening blessing and caress ; 
 and when Marianna advanced and extended her 
 hand and bade him good- night, the venerable 
 Israelite stretched forth the other and laid it upon 
 her head, and blessed her in the name of the God 
 of his fathers. The world was shut out ; thoughts 
 of thankfulness had multiplied in his heart as he 
 listened to the pelting of the vehement rain with- 
 out, and watched the comfortable security of his 
 child within. He had listenied to the joyous utter- 
 ances of the two young hearts to each other, and
 
 RACHAEL AT HOME. Ill 
 
 nis soul melted toward the stranger, who had made 
 Rachael happy beyond her wont. 
 
 When the young girls sat down and chatted by 
 themselves, all housekeeping duties at an end, it 
 was sometimes of joyful things, and sometimes, 
 again, of sorrowful. At length their words were 
 of themselves, and of their own thoughts, and 
 hopes, and aversions, and loves ; each speaking of 
 the faith of her own heart, more that the other 
 might say that she had the same faith, than in the 
 spirit of evil days, when emulation has led the 
 heart away from its innocence, and sullied the 
 truth and destroyed the kindhness of the spirit. 
 
 " Hush ! " said Rachael, suddenly ; and they 
 both listened for some moments : *' I thought I 
 heard a strange noise from my father's room. It 
 must have been the moan of the dog in the rain," 
 she continued, when at length it was not repeated. 
 " I am so afraid sometimes that my father will die ; 
 then I shall be quite alone on the earth." 
 
 " Not alone, darling Rachael,'* said Marianna, 
 tenderly, as she drew the head of the young girl 
 down on to her bosom. '* How kind you have 
 been to me : can I ever forget you ?" 
 
 " We know not," said the Jewess : " our hearts 
 are a shifting sand. When my mother was first 
 taken away, I thought I should never forget her^ 
 and my father was as one from whose eyes the
 
 112 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 light is withdrawn ; but now I sometimes think 
 we should hardly go out to bid her come in, if she 
 were standing at the door." 
 
 " Oh, think not so ; think not so," said Mari- 
 anna ; '* that is but the wandering of the thoughts : 
 the heart is still the same ; for to love is to lose 
 oneself in the consciousness of that lovelier pre- 
 sence that smiles upon us. We may forget the 
 smiles till we can reach the presence again ; but 
 then, believe me, darling, all the love will come 
 back again, fond and fall as ever. Are there none 
 among your own people, among the living of your 
 nation, whom you love, excepting your father 
 only?" 
 
 " None," said Rachael, " whom I love ; though 
 my heart still longs to gaze upon them. Perhaps 
 I ought to be ashamed of the weakness, for I am 
 to them as the flesh of that beast; and what is 
 worse still, they persecute my father for my sake. 
 My mother, Miss Bracton," she continued, " read 
 your Scriptures, and she bade me read them; 
 and I have read them, and will ever read them. 
 Oh, what a man was your prophet ! And yet, is 
 it not a marvel that the Jews should be wrong? — 
 the martyrs of the law and the testimony — the 
 heroes of this world-long struggle against the 
 supremacy of the evil — the keepers of the spark 
 given forth from the impregnable glory ! "
 
 RACHAEL AT HOME. 113 
 
 **' That we are right," said Marianna, '^ we know 
 by history and by our institutions. Inquire no 
 more, dear Rachel : read on. But let us talk of 
 something else, for you have become too sad." 
 
 The little Dutch clock in the store at length 
 rang off eleven ; a long excess over the hour for 
 repose in the bush. The two young girls hastened 
 to their couch, and slumbered in their beauty — 
 types, this of the bright and spirit-moving times 
 of the past and present and future of Christen- 
 dom — that of the sad and gorgeous era of the 
 ancient world. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 114 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Coolarama Creek Station.— The Stock-yard.— A " Shiveau'* 
 at the Hut. — " Whacking the Blunt." — Beck's History. 
 
 At a much earlier hour than he would have 
 chosen himself, Willoughby Bracton proceeded to 
 the township for Marianna; urged by his father *s 
 opinion that it would have been better to have 
 housed with his sister for the night at the little 
 inn, and sent home a messenger, instead of leaving 
 her among persons of unknown character. As 
 he was returning with Marianna, just as they 
 drew near that point of the mountain at which 
 the road turned round it up the bank of the 
 creek to the ground overlooked by the huts, and 
 reached the edge of the forest, they saw Martin 
 Beck pursuing his way at a sharp canter down 
 the flat on the opposite side of the creek. The 
 little stream, as already observed, pursued its 
 way from thence to the river ; and the overseer's 
 course was one that, if followed out, would lead
 
 "feeds" at night. 115 
 
 him to the Morrumbiclgee, a few miles below 
 that confluence. 
 
 " I wonder what he can he riding so hard for 
 in that direction ?" said Willoughby, rather speak- 
 ing to himself than addressing his sister. " The 
 cattle were all up the creek a couple of miles this 
 morning, when I fetched in this horse ; I suppose 
 there must be some odd ones strayed oflP." 
 
 " He is a most singular man," replied Mari- 
 anna ; " he 's away half the day sometimes, and 
 nobody can find him ; and then, at night, he '11 
 make a fire of the chips, or the old rails and posts 
 he's taking down at the stockyard, and keep on 
 working till eleven or twelve o'clock. Does he 
 have a ' feed,' as they call it, when he comes in?" 
 
 " Oh, of course!" replied Willoughby. 
 
 *' And do you join him ?" inquired Miss Brac- 
 ton, laughing. 
 
 " Well, sometimes. It 's impossible, you know, 
 to be waked out of a good sleep at that hour, and 
 hear the fryingpan crackling and hissing, and see 
 the hut as light as at noonday with the blaze, and 
 lie still." 
 
 " I should tell him not to wake me in that way, 
 if I were you." 
 
 " Oh, I have ; but it 's of no use. He takes as 
 
 i2
 
 116 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 much notice of me as he would of you ; — laughs, 
 and says he 's overseer." 
 
 " In that hateful way of his : that laugh, bro- 
 ther, does not come from his heart. There 's a 
 depth of deceit about that man." 
 
 " Ah ! you 're such a judge of character," re- 
 sponded her brother. " You said the same about 
 my old friend, Charley Duncan." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " Well, and you see, though you thought so ill 
 of him, your inseparable Miss Poynton snapped 
 him up ; and I 'm sure she 's shrewd enough." 
 
 " I 've heard all about it, brother, before we 
 sailed," said Marianna, significantly. " If your 
 friend had nothing to tell you, our friend told us 
 something." 
 
 " What was it? Did Charley smoke too many 
 cigars; or did he want to go a long whaling 
 voyage again, and she wouldn't let him?" 
 
 The arrival of the travellers at the door of the 
 little homestead was suffered to prevent the reve- 
 lation of Mr. Duncan's precise offence. 
 
 The overseer, meantime, kept a steady canter 
 down the flat for about five miles ; there the flat 
 terminated in a point, formed by the gradual ajD- 
 proximation of the mountain range and the river.
 
 COOLARAMA CREEK STATION. 117 
 
 Well worn cattle tracks or j^aths here ran along 
 the river side, higher and lower down the round 
 end of the range. There might be five or six 
 of them, like narrow terraces one above an- 
 other; and the length of the shelving ground 
 was about a quarter of a mile. At its termination 
 they turned round, and followed the other side of 
 the mountain up a gully, narrow at the entrance, 
 but in some parts more extended as it proceeded. 
 Down this gully — sometimes keeping the mid- 
 way and leaving equal flats on each sides; but 
 sometimes diverging to the sides, and thus pre- 
 senting all the low ground on one side and the 
 abrupt rise of the hills on the other — ran the 
 water-course already mentioned as Coolarama 
 Creek. The station where Morgan Brown was 
 stockkeeping was reached after running the 
 creek up about seven miles, and was the first 
 and only station on it. The water-course itself 
 commenced some four or five miles still higher ; 
 but no other station was to be met with. The 
 timber generally was of a much heavier cha- 
 racter than that met with in the open forest, and 
 gave to the gully, where it happened to be nar- 
 row and the hills steep and high, a gloom and a 
 chillness which rendered the travelling far from
 
 118 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 cheerful. Beck had often to walk his horse, for 
 the tracks sometimes ran up over steep stony 
 points that jutted out into the low ground, whilst 
 in others they followed the flat, passing over 
 fallen trees or crossing the creek itself, vv^here the 
 cattle found such to be their most direct course 
 to and fro. Heavy floods sometimes swept down 
 the bed of the creek, and even extended over the 
 flats ; but in general it presented merely a chain 
 of water-holes or ponds, with tracts of the dry 
 bed betwixt. These, however, were in several 
 places deep and large. Such was the condition 
 of the creek at the present time. About half a 
 mile before reaching the station, the creek turned 
 at a very sharp angle, almost retracing its way in 
 the direction it had come ; and as the range here 
 was neither very high nor very steep, nearly a 
 mile was saved by riding over its elbow to the 
 hut, instead of following round the course of the 
 water. 
 
 It was thus nearly noon before Beck reached 
 the top of the ridge where it looked down on the 
 hut ; a bark erection of only a single apartment, 
 such as two or three persons could move about in 
 without being in each other's way. It had appa- 
 rently been built some years, and not very care-
 
 THE STOCK- YARD. 119 
 
 fully, for the bark, both of the sides and roof, was 
 ragged looking, weather marked, and warped ; a 
 more than ordinary volume of smoke issued from 
 it, sailing away almost in a straight line on the 
 wind, through the cold, dull atmosphere of the day. 
 At the further end, or rather lying off from the 
 corner, and extending frontward was the stock- 
 yard. It may be needful here to state, that these 
 stockyards are enclosures varying in extent and 
 height according to the numbers and strength of 
 the cattle : sometimes there is merely the single 
 yard ; but where all the operations connected with 
 very large herds are to be provided for, a very 
 considerable area is enclosed, which is again sub 
 divided into compartments, communicating with " 
 each other. Very wild herds, or such as contain 
 very powerful animals, require great height and 
 strength of fence ; but in general a fence of five 
 good rails, each about eight or ten inches wide by 
 two or three thick, with posts about every nine 
 feet apart, and let into the ground from two and 
 a half feet to three, affords sufficient resistance to 
 the rush of a herd. The height of such a fence is 
 about five feet six inches, and is sufficient to pre- 
 vent the common cattle from leaping out. *' Rus- 
 sians," however, as they are called, will often go
 
 120 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 over at a bound ; and with lowered head and 
 erected tail, and darting at everything in the 
 shape of man or beast that they encounter, make 
 good their retreat into the mountains. Where 
 such cattle are to be dealt with, a six-rail fence 
 with a round top rail over all is sometimes neces- 
 sary, and all the timber of strength proportion- 
 ably greater. The ingress and egress of the herd 
 is betwixt two massive posts, a foot or eighteen 
 inches in diameter, placed at about ten or twelve 
 feet asunder, and furnished with strong, round, 
 or flat rails, that can be slipped in and out as 
 required. The force of a heavy herd rushing out 
 is, notwithstanding, such as often to carry away 
 the posts. 
 
 The stockyard at Coolarama Creek was one of 
 the smaller class — merely a single enclosure — 
 with a much less one attached, as a pen for calves. 
 Its timber was so gray and old as to bespeak an 
 antiquity of some years ; and in sundry places 
 decayed rails had been replaced by round saplings, 
 rough out of the adjacent bush. The slip-rails 
 were up, and a solitary heifer of about three years 
 old was walking impatiently about the yard, fol- 
 lowed hither and thither by her calf, with wild 
 bounds, and every symptom of terror and excite-
 
 A "SHIVEAU." 121 
 
 ment. It is only the possession of a second calf 
 which elevates the beast into the rank of cow, in 
 the strict phraseology of the stockyard.) Morgan 
 Brown, it appeared, did not bring his herd home 
 very often, for the marsh-mallows were growing 
 in bunches as large as the common bramble-bush 
 on the outside of the fence in several places, and 
 the interior of the yard, though bare, was but 
 little trodden ; whereas in yards much used there 
 is usually a flooring of dust some inches in depth. 
 Altogether, the whole station, hut, yard, and 
 vicinity, had a solitary and desolate aspect. 
 
 But very different in character were the sounds 
 that greeted Beck's ear as his horse stepped 
 obliquely down the side of the range, carefully as 
 good stock-horses who traverse much mountain 
 learn to do, yet, nevertheless, every few paces, 
 slipping sideways down on the loose stones with- 
 out losing his feet. A voice, of that mixed 
 accent which distinguishes the offspring of Dub- 
 lin parents of the lowest class born in one of our 
 great English cities, was singing, with the richest 
 licence of droll intonation, a composition, of which 
 we retain only the concluding verses, but which 
 might be not inaptly entitled " The Family Man" : 
 — a phrase signifying, in the " flash" dialect, " a
 
 122 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 thief" or " cross-man." The fragment will at 
 once illustrate their sentiments, and identify the 
 melodist himself with that portion of the popula- 
 tion whose right of passage to the colony is pre- 
 sented to them with so many grave public 
 ceremonies at the various Old and New Bailies. 
 
 THE FAMILY MAN. 
 
 There's never a chap— Bob, Arthur, or Dan- 
 Lives half such a life as " a countryman ;" * 
 He scours the city, he sweeps the road ; 
 Asses laden too heavy he helps to unload ; 
 He spends all he gets, and he gets all he can, 
 Does the ratlin', roarin' Family Man. 
 
 There 's never a chap— Bob, Arthur, or Dan- 
 Half such a chap as a countryman; 
 If you've little or none you may share in his mess, 
 If you've got too much he'll help you to less; 
 He gets all he spends, and that's all he can, 
 Does the rattliu', roarin' Family Man. 
 
 To these lyric stanzas, a rolling chorus was 
 supplied by six or seven voices repeating the first 
 couplet of each at its conclusion: a short interlude 
 being supplied in the same manner after the chorus 
 by deafening shouts— " Good song, Dubbo!" — 
 "Here whet thee whistle lad!" — "I'll back 
 Mikkey for a strave against all Morrumbidgee." 
 
 * We apprehend this term must be of similar signification 
 with the other.
 
 "some of the lads.* 123 
 
 " Silence," — " Attention,"— "The song, gentle- 
 men." " Bob! shut up : — go on, Dubbo." 
 
 These scenes and sounds, which may be sup- 
 posed to be novel to the reader, were to Martin 
 Beck habitual and familiar in the daily expe- 
 rience of many years. As he got off his horse at 
 the end of the hut the animal gave a snort, and 
 turned his head up the creek ; when, looking 
 round, Martin saw two other horses grazing at a 
 little distance, one naked, the other hobbled and 
 saddled, and having the bridle tied short to one of 
 the stirrups, so as to allow of his feeding without 
 entangling himself. Passing his own bridle round 
 his horse's neck and fastening it, he turned itoff un- 
 hobbled (as it never wandered far)to join the others. 
 
 The door of the hut had been shut against the 
 sharp and blusterous wind that was blowing, and 
 on Martin opening it the din of voices ceased in- 
 stantly. There being no window, and the dusky 
 interior having become impervious to vision from 
 the dense volume of tobacco-smoke, it was not at 
 first apparent of what materials the assemblage 
 was composed. As the smoke cleared with the 
 wind it could be discerned that a whole group, of 
 different ages, aspects, and garments, was gathered 
 together; but almost every one had the stock-
 
 124 
 
 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 whip either in his hand, or hung round his neck, 
 or near him on the ground. On Beck's entrance, 
 two or three jumped up from the little round 
 blocks, or the berths on which they were sitting, 
 as if surprised. 
 
 " Only our pal from the Rocky Springs," said 
 Morgan Brown, very composedly, and with a 
 touch of drollery, as if enjoying the apprehensions 
 of some of his companions. 
 
 " Oh ! I beg the gentleman's pardon," said the 
 singer, " I didn't see his face ; it's so dark." A 
 general laugh attested the hit. 
 
 " I thought it was some swell cove," said an- 
 other. 
 
 " Here young fellow, drink," said a fourth. 
 
 " What do you call this?" said Martin, in his 
 regulated tone — " tea?" 
 
 " Tea !" said Dubbo ; " who drinks tea out of 
 the little end of a pint-pot? No, lad, it's a drop 
 of as good rum as your cove 's got in his stores ; 
 though he is an old sea-dog." 
 
 " I'll taste," said Martin, relaxing into some- 
 thing more of good-fellowship than he usually 
 did, in his laugh. " But I never drank two 
 glasses in one day in my life yet." 
 
 " He never does drink, lads," interposed Mor-
 
 "whacking the blunt." 125 
 
 gan Brown, who saw that the Black's refusal was 
 producmg offence and mistrust of him. " But he 
 has always got a good glass to give the likes of 
 us at his own hut." 
 
 This explanation and certificate restored the 
 general community of sentiment ; and, after Mar- 
 tin had drank part of the allowance served out to 
 him, the panikin was replenished for the com- 
 pany seriatim. 
 
 More serious business now came forward. The 
 several head of cattle about which Morgan and 
 Beck had held communication had been got in 
 and disposed of; the various individuals present 
 giving various sorts of assistance. Some had 
 helped to get them into Morgan's yard, or drive 
 them to where the purchaser required them deli- 
 vered ; another had found the purchaser ; and so 
 on throughout. The proceeds amounted to up- 
 wards of ten pounds, which was now divided. 
 But nothing explicit was said about the source 
 from which the money came ; as Rowley the hut- 
 keeper could not be sent away from the carouse 
 without incurring the imputation of treating him 
 unhandsomely ; whilst he was not yet among the 
 fully initiated. After the settlement was effected, 
 by the interchange of small orders and by various
 
 126 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 acts of barter, and with very little ready cash, the 
 conversation proceeded more freely. 
 
 " So you 're going to give Morgan your share 
 for that heifer and her calf?" inquired one of the 
 party of Beck. 
 
 " She 's well worth it," said the overseer ; " I 
 know her breed." 
 
 " You had better put her somewhere out of 
 sightj" remarked another. 
 
 *' Now then, guy ! " retorted Brown, pointing to 
 the hutkeeper, but unobserved by him. " 1 've 
 had her ever since she was five months old. She 's 
 my own." 
 
 " Ha !" exclaimed the individual, who was try- 
 ing to " chaff" Morgan ; '* she 's yours till the 
 right owner comes for her. But I don't blame 
 you. I wish I could get the same price for half 
 a dozen." 
 
 "Oh!" replied Martin, "she's worth the 
 money. But if it is a little too much, what's the 
 odds. If anybody ought to have a chance, it's a 
 prisoner." 
 
 " You say right, lad. You're a native, I hear?" 
 
 " Of the Derwent," added Beck. 
 
 " Well, that 's all one. If ever I can serve you, 
 you know where to come. I like to hear a man
 
 "whacking the blunt." 127 
 
 speak that way about a prisoner : it shows he 
 knows himself." 
 
 The sentiment was reiterated by all who heard 
 it proclaimed : to secure which verdict of univer- 
 sal feeling in his favour, was Martin's object in 
 expressing himself as he had done. 
 
 Shortly afterwards, at Beck's proposal, several 
 of the party proceeded out to the yard to help 
 him to brand the heifer and calf. The brand 
 was already at the hut ; it was a new one, or- 
 dered of the blacksmith at the township by Beck, 
 and brought home by Morgan, when he visited 
 the stores of Lazarus Moses for the rum now 
 in course of consumption. The operation occu- 
 pied but a few minutes. As we shall have to 
 speak of a branding-day on a larger scale here- 
 after, in connexion with still more important in- 
 cidents, the process may here be passed by with- 
 out further remark. As soon as the branding 
 was completed, the beasts were turned out of the 
 yard, and, maddened with the terror and pain, 
 rushed furiously away over the hills. It was a 
 point well understood by custom, that Morgan 
 would find them again for the new owner when- 
 ever he might require them ; and their habitua- 
 tion to Morgan's run was ample security for
 
 128 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 their remaining there. Martin caught his horse 
 and rode homeward ; the other stockmen re- 
 turned to the hut to finish the rum (the liquor of 
 course being at the general expense) and to play- 
 off the balances of their accounts at the scarcely 
 ever-varied game — all-fours. 
 
 Martin Beck rode up over the hill again, and 
 down into the creek, and hon:ftward. " It's all 
 to the good yet," he muttered ; " only for those 
 precious women with their black looks. Perhaps 
 it's only my fancy. Come, Doctor, be alive (and 
 in went the spurs); it's hungry time o' day." 
 
 At the time that Martin Beck first applied to 
 Lieutenant Bracton, he was just arrived in Syd- 
 ney from the Coal River, not from the Derwent 
 as he stated. Nor was he a native of the Derwent, 
 but of the elder colony ; his birthplace being not 
 many miles from Sydney, on one of the rivers 
 near to Port Jackson. But he had for some 
 years been absent from the vicinity of Sydney, 
 partly at the Five Islands and partly to the 
 north, in the Coal River districts. The latter 
 portion of the time he had spent near the Coal 
 River, which is the name prevalent in the colony 
 for the lower part of the Hunter. There he had 
 been employed in the cedar grounds, taking con-
 
 beck's previous history. 129 
 
 tracts for plank; and, as lie was a first-rate 
 workman in the bash, executing large parts of 
 them himself. But along with his mechanical 
 work in the bush, he had also pursued the sys- 
 tem of cattle-stealing, till he had possessed him- 
 self of several hundred head. 
 
 At length, in the district where he had been 
 carrying on his course of plunder on every 
 herd within convenient distance, what is called 
 in the colony a " cattle racket," took jDlace. 
 These cattle-rackets can be explained to the 
 English reader only by stating that their ori- 
 gin is generally the discovery of some whole- 
 sale aggression on horned cattle by one, or a 
 knot of several; and as an immediate conse- 
 quence a universal suspicion of all parties who 
 seem to have acquired large herds, or the re- 
 putation of possessing large herds, in a short 
 period. Martin Beck, working and living 
 chiefly in the brushes or very thickest forest, 
 covered also with underwood, in pursuit of his 
 occupation, had been aware of the most solitary 
 and rugged places for hiding his stolen cattle; 
 and by so hiding them secured himself from all 
 beyond the mere suspicion of possessing them. 
 But it was customary for parties brought before 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 130 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 the magistrates on the charge of cattle-stealing, 
 to endeavour to secure the position of queen's 
 evidence, by giving information against others; 
 even though they possessed no available know- 
 ledge of their guilt. jSi ow Beck from his child- 
 hood had been betrayed, by his insulated and 
 depressed position as a black, into a perpetual 
 habit of endeavouring to attract regard and at- 
 tention. He felt the natural strength of his 
 character, and was discontented with his social 
 rank. Hence, several years previously to any 
 danger accruing, he had been in the habit of 
 boasting, among his mates in the bush, of the 
 possession of a good herd, until it was become a 
 standing thing among them to give him credit 
 for having (somewhere or other) a large stock ; 
 and the very circumstance that it was " some- 
 where or other," involved the assurance that 
 they had been obtained unfairly. Therefore, 
 when a cattle-racket broke out at the head 
 police-section of the Coal River district, and some 
 of those whom Beck was most intimate with 
 came to be in custody, he decamped, under the 
 apprehension that he might be informed against. 
 The cattle were tolerably safe in the gullies be- 
 tween the Australian Agricultural Company's
 
 beck's previous history. 131 
 
 land and the mass of mountains behind, but 
 chiefly in the brushes and ravines of William's 
 River ; and if found and owned could only be 
 lost to him. Meantime, his business was to take 
 care that he himself was not found and owned, 
 To prevent such a catastrophe, he proceeded to 
 Sydney, determined to seize the first opportunity 
 that offered to get to some distant part of the 
 territory, where he would not be known ; and in 
 a few days he succeeded in getting into the posi- 
 tion he now held at the Rocky Springs. 
 
 It will not detract from either the amusement 
 or the knowledge this account is intended to 
 afford, to state that the character of Martin Beck 
 is not a fictitious one ; but one which the writer 
 had long and ample opportunities of studying* 
 Beck was a man whose abilities compelled hom- 
 age : but the contempt of society had repelled 
 him — insulated him ; first made him selfish, and 
 then rendered him cunning. And that cunning, 
 isolation, and selfishness, is at this period a com- 
 plete definition of his character. He w^as no 
 drunkard, no petty thief, no libertine ; on the con- 
 trary, he delighted in labour, in economy, and — 
 but for the vice that was so singularly swallowing 
 up his whole nature — in manliness. But man 
 
 T^ 9
 
 132 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 was liis enemy. Then what faith had he to keep ? 
 None, except to himself. How was he to keep 
 that? He thought, by getting- power. What 
 was power, as he had had the opportunity of dis- 
 cerning ? Wealth.
 
 133 
 
 CHAPTER YIII. 
 
 « The Musquito Fleet." — The " Little Bee." — Trip to 
 Broken Bay. — Brisbane Water. — Reuben Kable'sFarm. — 
 The " Daisy of the Bay."— Mary Kablc at Home.— A 
 Forsaken Farm.— A Tete-a-tete.— The Old Nurse. 
 
 A FEW days after the events of the last chapter, 
 Willoughby Bracton proceeded again to Sydney. 
 The object of his journey was to conclude the 
 arrangement for two flocks of sheep, which had 
 been inspected by Lieutenant Bracton at an out- 
 station of one of the large stock proprietors in the 
 Morrumbidgee district ; the owner himself being 
 resident in the capital. 
 
 On Willoughby 's arrival in town, the owner 
 being absent at one of his farms in another part 
 of the country, it was necessary to await his 
 return. In the mean time, it occurred to the young 
 emigrant that the knowledge and judgment of 
 his friend Reuben Kable might be most judi- 
 ciously taken advantage of as a final direction ; 
 and, being as yet without any personal friends in 
 the capital, the prospect of the trip to Broken 
 Bay was too tempting to be resisted.
 
 134 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 On making inquiry as to the best method of 
 proceeding thither, lie found that he could travel 
 either by land or water. The journey landwise 
 involved a long and troublesome detour, if made 
 on horseback ; and transit by vehicles to the 
 vicinity he had to reach, there was none[: nor 
 probably will there exist any for many years to 
 come; so rugged, broken, and mountainous is 
 the whole country around the spot, both behind 
 and on either side. On the other hand, numbers 
 of little one and two masted craft and other ves- 
 sels trade to Sydney and back from the various 
 lesser bays into which the parent bay diverges ; 
 carrying colonial produce to the capital, and 
 bringing back the merchants' importations from 
 Britain and from foreign countries generally, to 
 the fireside of the solitary bushman on the mar- 
 gins of these arms of the sea. So numerous, in- 
 deed, are these little coasting vessels to Broken 
 Bay and other places lying northward, and to the 
 various settlements rising up to the southward of 
 Sydney, as to have obtained for them, among sea- 
 going people in the harbour, the popular title of 
 the Mosquito Fleet ; for, when strong easterly 
 gales have brought all into Port Jackson and pre-
 
 " MusQuiTO fleet/' 135 
 
 vented any getting out, on the setting-in of a fair 
 wind they all set sail together. 
 
 It was one of these small craft, the Little 
 Bee, of Brisbane Water, that Willoughby, as 
 he walked along the broad level of the Market 
 Wharf cut in the living rock, and overlooked 
 from the crag above by all the various and ir- 
 regular buildings of the back of the town, selected 
 for getting a passage in. She v/as one of the 
 smallest class of decked schooners, built for run- 
 ning up the salt-water creeks as far as they can 
 be navigated by a vessel fit to go to sea : she was 
 the pride of the trade as a sea-boat, though, with 
 a full lading aboard, very little of her hull was 
 out of water. Most of these small craft are good 
 sea-boats ; and so they had need be. The climate* 
 is liable to sudden and violent changes of wind, 
 and the class of men navigating the small coasters 
 are but too apt to give way on shore to intoxi- 
 cation ; whilst, again, they never go on board till 
 the last minute, and the whole duration of the 
 few hours' voyage, which is along a rocky and 
 dangerous coast, is not more than sufficient to 
 restore their sobriety. The crews of these small 
 coasting traders may be very correctly described 
 as the moral refuse of the regular marine class.
 
 136 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 but possessing a plentiful ingredient of first-rate 
 seamanship. Hence it often happens that the 
 owner puts in command a steady man, little more 
 than a mere landsman ; depending upon him for 
 the security of the property and the caution 
 necessary in the management generally, and 
 leaving him to take the measures required for 
 the safety of his own life at sea, by picking out a 
 crew that he can depend upon, and using his own 
 discretion only to go to sea when his hands are 
 fit for their duties. Both skipper and hands are 
 generally paid by the trip, not by the month ; 
 and thus made to feel it their interest, as well as 
 it is the owner's, to make good as many trijDS as 
 they can. It was one of this sort of skippers 
 whom Willoughby Bracton hailed from the 
 Market Wharf, as he saw him getting all ready 
 for a start, on board " the Little Bee," as she lay 
 moored a few fathoms off from the wharf. 
 
 " Hoy ! 'board the Bee ! Where 's your skip- 
 per?" 
 
 " I b'lieve I 'm some'at o' the sort myself," 
 replied the man addressed, a very deliberate sort 
 of person of about thirty; thickset, and with a 
 countenance in which gravity and good-humour 
 were about equally portrayed. Probably to
 
 THE SKIPPER OF THE " BEE." 137 
 
 any other kind of questioner he would have paid 
 no further attention, but have gone on quietly 
 coiling the ropes ; but seeing Willoughby in a 
 blue jacket and trousers and black waistcoat, 
 and recognising a sort of chief-mate tone in his 
 hail, he stood still and looked at him. 
 
 " You run to Broken Bay, don't you ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " When are you off? " 
 
 " Now ; directly. Tide 's beginning to run 
 down strong ; and there 's a wind coming that '11 
 carry us from one anchorage to the other: that 
 is, if we can save the tide at the mouth of Broken 
 Bay ; it's coming round to the south as fast as 
 it can come, and looks as if it meant to blow 
 pretty fresh." 
 
 " I want a passage ? You go to Brisbane 
 Water for timber, don't you?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Do you know a settler of the name of Kable 
 there?" 
 
 "Ay; a native. There's a boat of his just 
 dropped down the harbour; but it'll be too late 
 for you to catch her. I can give you a passage. 
 We shall be off his wharf to-night, if all 's well." 
 
 " Send your ' dingy' then," said Willoughby,
 
 138 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 using professional freedom, on seeing the dingy 
 was not yet hoisted in, and no waterman's boat 
 was at hand. The skipper of the Bee was too 
 glad of the chance of an extra hand to demur 
 adding that accommodation to his former proffer ; 
 so after turning himself deliberately round, and 
 lifting his Scotch cap and scratching his head, 
 lie got into the dingy, and pulled Willoughby 
 aboard. 
 
 In another half hour the Little Bee was splash- 
 ing rapidly along the lively surface of the water, 
 which alternately flashed with the oblique rays of 
 the late afternoon sun, and gloomed under the 
 first clouds of a southerly breeze. The young 
 mariner's mind was soon at ease about her points 
 as a sailer ; away she skimmed, like a strong 
 young sea-bird, down the harbour, past island, 
 and battery, and point. The golden glow of 
 Australia's evening sun lay rich upon whole pro- 
 vinces of lofty woodland, following round in the 
 distance the windings of the stream. On went 
 the Little Bee. And now the broad reach is 
 gained, whence the eye looks suddenly out 
 through the giant portal of those enormous crags, 
 the ' Heads,' into the main ocean. Brisker blows 
 the breeze, and fairer to it still lays the course of
 
 TRIP TO BROKEN BAY. 139 
 
 the lively little craft ; and forth she bounds into 
 the blue and dancing billows of the open sea. The 
 wind was now as fair as a wind could be, and 
 after securing good sea-room and shifting the 
 ballast to steady her better with a wind right aft, 
 all hands gathered round the fire that was smoul- 
 dering in a large tin vessel which looked very like 
 a saucepan with holes cut round it, and lit their 
 short pipes ; whilst Willoughby took his trick at 
 the helm. 
 
 The whole line of the shore, as they now had 
 it on the larboard beam, is one mass of magni- 
 ficent crag. Here and there, appears an inlet or 
 a strip of beach ; but the general impression is, 
 that of one of the most rock-bound of coasts. 
 The sun was setting full over ihe land, and its 
 last rays shot over the rocks, throwing their pre- 
 cipitous face into deep shadow, and giving to 
 the ocean barrier a frowning aspect in accordance 
 with the forlorn and mighty task assigned to it. 
 
 A balloon view of Port Jackson and Broken 
 Bay would exhibit them as two great sea-inlets 
 about twenty miles distant from each other : Port 
 Jackson smaller, j)ossessing fewer arms, but un- 
 equalled for security in heavy weather, and (what 
 is more important for the exigencies of a capital)
 
 140 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 affording egress through an adjacent country 
 entirely clearpf steep mountainous tracts; whilst, 
 on the other hand, Broken Bay, penetrating a 
 part of the land singularly broken and mountain- 
 ous, labours under the disadvantage of the utmost 
 difficulty of access from the land side, but breaks 
 away into a number of arms or minor bays. The 
 latter peculiarity of course arises from the 
 former ; the mountain streams meeting the salt- 
 water from all quarters, either by the deep fissures 
 of the land, or else by cutting their channels till 
 they have got far below the salt-water level. 
 
 There are no\less than seven of these minor 
 openings from the sides of the main bay into 
 the mountain district around. Of these, three 
 take an inland direction back towards Sydney, 
 the remaining four stretch on toward the north. 
 Betwixt them, or in at the very head of the main 
 bay, flows the Hawkesbury River ; one of the 
 most considerable for population and produce, 
 and one of the best for navigation and tracts of 
 good alluvial soil, in the colon}^ Brisbane Water, 
 on the other hand, is the first, and by far the most 
 considerable, of the arms on the side most distant 
 from Sydney, and consequently pierces the land 
 in the opposite direction. Broken into the most
 
 BRISBANE WATER. I4l 
 
 irregular outlines, bordered by tracts of excellent 
 soil, it bids fair in future ages to be at once the most 
 sequestered, romantic, and flourishing of settle- 
 ments ; aftbrding a rural retreat from the toil and 
 glare and dust of the capital during* the mid-heat 
 of summer. Already, numerous farms enliven 
 its ever-varying shores : here, one occupies a head- 
 land ; there, two nestle together on opposite sides 
 of some small creek, almost down at water level 
 betwixt higher land ; while many are seen lying 
 back at the head of little bights; and others 
 again specking a long tract of low beach with the 
 hills rising by long and gradual ascent behind. 
 
 From the Market Wharf, whence Willonghby 
 started, to the great "Heads," where Port Jack- 
 son yields up its waters to the ocean, is a run, 
 with a favourable wind, of seven or eight miles ; 
 from the North Head to the southernmost head 
 of Broken Bay, another vast point of rock called 
 Barrenjueh, may be called, in round numbers, 
 twenty ; and from Barrenjueh Point to the head 
 of Brisbane Water — a broad flat shore, to the very 
 edge of which come down the magnificent gum 
 forests, and most like the round end of a lake — 
 can scarcely be made, in sailing, under a dozen
 
 142 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 miles : a total of forty miles, a steamer might 
 diminish the distance a little. The tide delaying 
 all the boats going into Broken Bay, for some 
 time, off Broken Bay Heads, the Little Bee made 
 her anchorage but a short time before midnight, 
 Reuben's craft dropped her anchor abreast of his 
 own wharf on the west side, at four or five miles 
 short of its extremity ; the Bee was somewhat lower 
 down, where she had to take in her next load. 
 
 This was the first time that Willoughby had 
 been without companionship of much interest on 
 his own element in this quarter of the world ; the 
 first time for some months that he had had a 
 horizon clear of trees, or of some other interrup- 
 tion. x4nd when he looked up at the dark sky, 
 twinkling with ten thousand stars, but only in a 
 small section near the horizon recognised those 
 he had been used to gaze at from his childhood, 
 he became suddenly conscious that he was in a 
 new land — more conscious by far than he had 
 become amidst the endless tracts of the interior. 
 The width of water from shore to shore was 
 several miles ; but, hemmed round as it was on 
 all sides by high lands, and reached by a long 
 and winding channel impenetrable to the roll of
 
 BRISBANE WATER BY NIGHT. 143 
 
 the ocean, its surface displayed scarcely a ripple. 
 The wind had sunk, the boatmen had stowed 
 themselves away below for the night, and there was 
 no sound from anything nigh at hand except the 
 quick and plashy rattle which a fast-flooding tide 
 makes against the round bottom of a boat. The 
 bordering land lay like darkness itself, showing in 
 a few places only a solitary light, where some tree 
 smouldered away in red charcoal without blaze, 
 or where a party of clearers roused together 
 their logs at the midnight summons of their 
 mate on watch, filling the air for a few moments 
 with a roar of flame and a burst of sparks. Kow 
 and then a watchdog bayed out suddenly from 
 some point where there was a farm, and then a 
 whole chorus rang right round the whole shore 
 of the bay, the barkings and their echoes min- 
 gling in strangest mimicry; so that even the 
 animals themselves would suddenly pause, and 
 seem to listen and wonder to hear their deep- 
 mouthed clamours thus answered ; and then they 
 would utter again one sharp single bark, and 
 listen — and often so for many times together. 
 
 These small crafts have often not a bed or 
 a blanket aboard: it was thus with the Bee^ 
 The hands were well enough pleased with their
 
 144: THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 passenger to have given him up a bed, if they 
 had had one ; but they had not. When Wil- 
 loughby lifted up the hatch, and jumped down 
 into the dark hold, he crawled first over the 
 bulky body of the skipper, and, judging he 
 should better himself but little by going further, 
 folded his monkey-jacket close around him, and 
 stretched himself to rest on the planks, as he had 
 many a time done before in far less clement 
 latitudes. 
 
 Willoughby's rest terminated before the heavy 
 sleep of the sailors, whose nights were often 
 broken in upon by their trips ; whilst, between 
 getting cargo in and out on the one part and 
 spending their dollars on the other, they devoted 
 very little time to supplying the deficiency by 
 day when in harbour. As he stood up and 
 turned ofi:' the hatch, he saw the sun was risen ; 
 and springing up on deck, the western shore of 
 Brisbane Water displayed itself for several miles 
 downward, and again upward to its broad curved 
 extreme, smiling under the cheerful light of the 
 almost level rays; while a light mist circled in 
 places along the face of the water. The prospect 
 was varied with every feature of a shore, fj'om 
 the bluff headland of gray moss-covered stone
 
 A "BOGIE." 145 
 
 and the ghibber gunyah,* where the fisherman or 
 the outlaw sleeps behind his fire, far back be- 
 neath the overhanging shelf of rock, to the long 
 shoal ground of the mud-flat and the sandy 
 bottom where pelicans wade far out to play 
 and fish. The sunlight and fresh air, that now 
 penetrated into the hold, quickly dispelled the 
 slumbers of the crew, and speedily swept away 
 every trace of the thin mist, leaving the surface 
 of the water like molten gold. The skipper was 
 the first to pop his round and unkempt head out 
 of the hatch; when, looking round for an instant 
 without discerning his passenger, and seeing the 
 boat still on deck, he sprang up with unwonted 
 alacrity. An instant's survey, however, sufficed 
 to assure him that nothing very serious had hap- 
 pened to that young gentleman, whose clothes 
 were thrown into the boat, and he himself tum- 
 bling about in a state of pleasant sensation in the 
 still and crystal flood. It is rarely that a person 
 of at all hardy habits may not bathe with plea- 
 sure in this latitude, especially where the water 
 
 * Aboriginal term. Literally rock-house. The term at 
 the head of the page, '* bogie," I suppose must be aboriginal 
 also. It is one of the most common in daily parlance with 
 all ranks. Its signification is a bathe. 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 146 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 comes principally from the ocean : indeed, after 
 a night passed in his clothes, in the close hold of 
 a decked boat, and on the planks, Willoughby 
 rightly imagined that it would be a luxury. It 
 may, however, in the mean time, be remembered 
 that it was the month of June : the mid-winter of 
 the lands of the southern seas. 
 
 The skipper lit his two-inch pipe, black with 
 many a blast, and rich with the essential oil of a 
 quarter of a hundredweight of negrohead, and 
 sitting down on the deek, threw his legs over the 
 side and watched the bather. 
 
 *' You '*11 be just in time for Kable's breakfast," 
 said he at last, as Willoughby swam in. " Stop 
 and have a feed with us if you like, though ; — 
 only there 's nothing but some tea and white 
 tommy, and that cold schnapper we had for 
 supper off Barrenjueh. If you go ashore, you'll 
 have " lassions" of everything. He lives well, 
 does young Reuben ; — as well as any settler 
 about here." 
 
 " I shall go ashore," said Willoughby, " if you 
 can spare a man to bring back the dingy." 
 
 *' Oh, ay ; to be sure. You 're not going to 
 run away with the young missis, I hope : she 
 is the Daisy oi* the Bay."
 
 FARM AT BROKEN BAY. 147 
 
 "Young missis!" exclaimed Willoughby; "why, 
 I didn't know Mr. Kable was married. I took 
 him to be a single man." — For Reuben Kable 
 had not mentioned having any sister, and his 
 habitual acquaintance with sailors' jokes led 
 Willoughby instinctively to interpret the phrase 
 by its broadest meaning. 
 
 " Married ! no : not he. They all say about 
 here that he thinks nobody 's good enough for 
 him. I mean young Polly, his sister." 
 
 " Oh ! is that it ? " replied Willoughby, laughing. 
 " I can't say then what I might do. If I want to cut 
 off some of these nights in a quarter less than no 
 time, I suppose you '11 stow us away somewliere." 
 
 " Ay," said the skipper, joining in the joke, 
 " only it 's no use to speak for a cage for a bird 
 till you 've cotched it. Hollo, boy, give a hand 
 here with the dingy." 
 
 The boy stood ready with the oar shipped 
 astern by the time that Willoughby was dressed ; 
 and he, passing the little token of good-will which 
 all orders and ranks of conveyancers love so well 
 into the skipper's palm, stepped over the side 
 into it, and departed. 
 
 His course was toward a fine square-sided 
 tract of cultivated ground, abreast of the craft, 
 
 l2
 
 148 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 except by about half a mile ; ^vliicb, on a sweeping 
 shore, at some distance off seems nothing. It 
 was about a quarter of a mile in length along the 
 water-side, and about half as much in depth ; the 
 surface being an even and gradual rise from front 
 to back. On the upper side, nearly or quite in 
 the middle, stood a bush cottage, with that aj^pa- 
 nage almost universal throughout the colony, as a 
 protection from the sunbeams during the hottest 
 period of the day, a verandah. The line of the 
 clear ground at the further end followed the 
 slight sweep of a deep and precipitous creek- 
 bank ; but at this end the line was cut straight up 
 through the forest.* The season being that at 
 which there is no crop on the ground, the dwell- 
 ing-house, as well as the smallest buildings about 
 it, was visible to its base. There was a rough 
 bark-roofed barn behind one corner of the house, 
 at the very edge of the standing timber, and 
 behind the other, a couple of the common huts 
 
 * We shall trust most implicitly to our Australian friends 
 to make allowance for any little variation from the present 
 aspect of the locality that they m.ay find in the above 
 sketch. It is now several years since we visited that part of 
 the colony, and enjoj^ed the pleasure of tumbling about 
 in those placid waters, after a hot afternoon's ride from 
 a dozen miles bej-ond the Blue- Gum Flat.
 
 THE " DAISY OF THE BAY." 149 
 
 for working hands ; and nearly at the extreme of 
 the top line again, by the creek edge, so as to 
 flank cattle by it in driving them in, was the 
 stockyard, with its calf-pens, and a little yoking- 
 yard ; and inside the large yard the usual gallows, 
 of some twelve or thirteen feet high, with a block 
 and hook attached for hauling up a slaughtered 
 bullock, during that process which is familiarly 
 termed " taking his jacket off." 
 
 Reuben Kable's only housekeeper was his 
 sister, a girl of eighteen ; — nor had she now any 
 stated companion of her ow^i sex and age, except 
 the daughter of an old couple two miles off, who 
 came and remained with her during her brother's 
 absence. Their parents had now been dead several 
 years ; and, until within the last twelvemonths, an 
 aged woman, w^ho had been her nurse from in- 
 fancy, together with the old man her husband, 
 had lived on the farm. One of those peculiarities 
 of determination which the declining intellect is 
 sometimes found to manifest, had about so long 
 since led the old man (who had always been a 
 favourite servant, and treated accordingly) to re- 
 move to Mangrove Creek, one of the higher 
 watercourses falling into Broken Bay, and com- 
 mence settler himself. Since that period, not
 
 150 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 knowing of any other aged woman capable of 
 supplying old Margaret Bradsliawe's place, and 
 indeed well knowing that tliey should find none 
 whom they should regard with the same affection 
 as the old nurse of their childhood, Reuben and 
 Mary Kable had contented themselves to remain 
 as Willoughby now found them. 
 
 Reuben Kable, the reader is already acquainted 
 with. His sister was but little like him in any- 
 thing but simplicity of character : that they both 
 possessed ; possibly deriving it as much from the 
 tone of mind impressed upon them by the old 
 nurse, as from natural tendency. One other 
 quality, however, the brother and sister had in 
 common — affection for each other. A stranger 
 might easily have mistaken the sister for the 
 young wife, as she bounded down the path of 
 an evening to meet Reuben returning with the 
 long duck-gun under his arm, or the oars on his 
 shoulder ; clasping her arms round his waist, and 
 hanging about him till they reached the hill- 
 top, shaking and sinking her head, as, with his 
 disengaged hand, he mischievously tangled the 
 long, fine tresses she had so carefully arranged ; 
 then, as they drew near the door, bounding as 
 rapidly in-doors to re-arrange them, and make
 
 THE " DAISY OF THE BAY." 151 
 
 sure that Jemmy — the old, pursy, barber-like 
 convict, their only companion, whom they had 
 made a cook of because they thought it a pity 
 to put him to hard work, and " must have some- 
 body," — had everything ready for tea; and then, 
 as her brother sat down opposite to her at the 
 tea-table, springing across to Reuben, and with 
 one of those soft and beautiful hands pressing 
 either cheek, enfixing a kiss on his forehead : the 
 thrill and sound of which put to flight all his 
 gravity, and made him laugh for the first time 
 throughout the day from the very depth of his 
 chest. The dullest looker-on would have got so 
 far as the hypothetical predicate, that if that 
 young rustic beauty was not a wife, all had not 
 yet become as it ought to be. 
 
 "There is many a true word spoken in jest," runs 
 the proverb : but little did Willoughby Bracton 
 surmise how particularly true was to prove the pro- 
 phetic guess of the skipper. And as little did Mary 
 Kable imagine whom she was speaking of, when, 
 a little after sunrise that morning, she came in 
 doors and said to her brother, " I declare, Reuben, 
 there's one of those mad fellows of sailors belong- 
 ing to the Little Bee, swimming about this cold 
 morning in the very middle of the bay." Where-
 
 152 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 upon Reuben, concluding that his own craft also 
 must have come up to the wharf (which was hid- 
 den by the lower corner of the bush), put on his 
 broad-brimmed straw-hat, and walked down to see; 
 whilst Mary went in-doors to urge old Jemmy to 
 make haste with the breakfast. 
 
 As he emerged from the short bush road on to 
 the top of the little bluff, the first thing the Aus- 
 tralian saw was the tapering mast of his craft ; 
 the second, the Bees dingy shooting rapidly over 
 to the point where he stood, with the boy standing 
 in the stern, paddling, and a regular blue- 
 jacket sitting face forward on the thw^art, to be- 
 stow his weight most advantageously for her 
 progress : for the dingies carried by the lesser ves- 
 sels of the musquito fleet are about the most tick- 
 lish things that stem the salt-water. 
 
 Before the dingy reached the bank, Reuben 
 recognised with surprise and pleasure Willoughby 
 Bracton. 
 
 *' I'm out of your debt now," said the young 
 sailor, as the nose of the boat ran home against the 
 broken grassy bank, where there was plenty of water 
 just astern of the craft ; — " my promise is kept." 
 
 " And just in time for breakfast," returned his 
 friend, stretching out his long arm to Willoughby,
 
 THE DOGS AT A HOMESTEAD. 153 
 
 as he bounded up, and giving him a tug that it 
 required all his agility to prevent from terminat- 
 ing in an all-fours. 
 
 The men of his own schooner now began to 
 tumble up from the hold, at the sound of voices 
 alongside, and Eeuben, after getting the report of 
 their trip, and the Sydney invoices of the back 
 cargo, invited his friend to proceed homeward. 
 A whole pack of those fine dogs so serviceable in 
 a bush life greeted their approach. The breed is 
 one which, taking the gray hound as its basis, 
 mingles with that of the lurcher, mastiff, and bull- 
 dog in interminable variety ; presenting generally, 
 however, a dog of great speed and bone, and 
 often first-rate scent, as well as sagacity. These 
 noble animals are oftentimes to be seen about' 
 homesteads, lying by on the sick-list, cut almost 
 to pieces in their savage struggles with the 
 wolfish warregal of the bush, or by the goring 
 talons of the kangaroo ; and sometimes in a state 
 of premature decay from the effects of fractures, 
 and those many wounds whose remains are not 
 only the bald seams on the skin, but other and 
 deeper left upon the nervous system, rendering 
 the animal perpetually sleepy, or irritable, accord- 
 ing to the bias of natural temperament.
 
 154 TIJE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 The loud buy of the pack, as they suddenly 
 dashed off at the alarm uttered by the first who 
 happened to discern the stranger, informed Mary 
 Kable that her brother was not returning alone ; 
 and she hastened across to the parlour window 
 to ascertain who it might be. Her brother and 
 his guest were walking rapidly and familiarly up 
 the path, side by side, stopping abruptly now 
 and then, and looking as Reuben pointed in 
 various directions. Her brother was carrying 
 the stranger's monkey-jacket, which, as the leader 
 of the pack bounded forward at Willoughby, he 
 made use of to tumble the dog heels over head 
 with. It chanced to be Mary's favourite old dog ; 
 one that had licked her face in the cradle, and 
 fondled her in her childhood ; and she was angry 
 with Reuben, and grateful to the stranger for 
 holding out his hand to the discomfited " Tony." 
 The faithful dog slunk away, carrying the rest of 
 the pack gradually off; and trotting back, with 
 frequently reverted heads and stifled growls, to 
 the top of the hill, they posted themselves all 
 round Mary, as she came out and stood in front of 
 the verandah. 
 
 " Reuben, how could you knock poor old Tony 
 over in that way?" she exclaimed, before the
 
 OLD TONY. 155 
 
 young men were near enongli for Kable to intro- 
 duce his friend. 
 
 " Better," said Reuben, " for a dog to have a 
 tumble than a man a bite ; especially from that 
 old ruffian : he always makes his teeth meet. 
 He's got a way of snapping, Mr. Bracton, like a 
 native dog : he doesn't bite : and his teeth, old as 
 he is, are sure to go jam through whatever he 
 aims at. This is my sister: she's a very good 
 girl; but she'd sooner see you with a great tear in 
 your arm or leg than have a finger laid on Tony. 
 Look at him now ; how he stands grinning at me, 
 as much as to say, — * Touch me, if you dare, now 
 I'm beside my mistress !' Go to kennel, sir. Oif ! 
 INTone of your old soldiering." 
 
 " No, no: let him stop, Reuben. He won't' 
 hurt Mr. Bracton now." 
 
 « Will you be bail for him?" 
 
 " Yes.'^ 
 
 " I who am the principal party concerned, Miss 
 Kable," said Willoughby, " am perfectly satisfied 
 with the security. Indeed, Mr. Kable interfered 
 in my behalf almost needlessly : dogs never bite 
 me. There's not an animal in the world, even 
 man himself, that feels and is put down by a strong- 
 manifestation of contempt so readily as the dog."
 
 156 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 " Tlien I am sure," said Mary, laughing, " my 
 "brother ought to have managed Tony without the 
 pilot-coat. But come brother; come, Mr. Brac- 
 ton, breakfast is ready." 
 
 As she spoke, the Australian maid led the way 
 forward into the little breakfast-parlour. The 
 room, which was furnished in a genteel domestic 
 way, not gaudily, looked out upon the glittering 
 face of the bay, and was full of the rich, mellow 
 lustre shed into a shady spot by a large surface 
 of reflection. Three or four boats were now 
 urging their way from various farms on the 
 shores towards the little crafts at anchor, which 
 were expected to have brought down packages 
 for them from Sydney ; and the hills opposite lay 
 under the full light of the sun, now rising imme- 
 diately behind the house. 
 
 The dress of the young girl w-as as simple as 
 the life she led ; her gov/n of fine cotton ^Drint, 
 of a small pattern, with collar of its own ma- 
 terial, fitted nicely her compact and shapely form, 
 and fell in ample folds to her well-formed and 
 neatly-shod feet. And, under the lace frill that 
 encircled her small neck, impelled by the more 
 than ordinary chillness of the morning, she had 
 hastily tied a silken kerchief of pale blue, fasten-
 
 MARY KABLK AT HOME. 157 
 
 ing it, ill unconscious imitation of her brother, 
 with a sailor's knot. She was of the medium 
 height, and of those delicate and slender propor- 
 tions which subsist in connection with the highest 
 degree of activity in woman ; whilst the mirthful 
 and almost childlike confidence of her manner, 
 imparted to all she did and said an unperceived 
 but irresistible appeal for a like return. 
 
 The breakfast which appeared upon the table 
 did fullest justice to the pre-commendations of 
 ,he skipper of the Bee. There was true bush tea, 
 with cream and new eggs, white as the driven 
 snow; butter in pats, neat as the hostess's own 
 little hand ; a broad dish of rumps teaks, steam- 
 ing hot, and damper, white and light as it could 
 have come from the oven of the most accom- 
 plished baker, and for shape a perfect picture. 
 
 Willoughby, almost unconsciously, as he took a 
 deliberate survey of the domestic department of 
 his friend's homestead, gave utterance to an 
 expression of surprise at its neat and comfortable 
 trim. 
 
 " It was very different, I assure you," said 
 Mary, " twelve months ago, when I came from 
 schooL Eeuben, I must tell you, has been a bit 
 of a tyrant to me in two or three instances ; I
 
 158 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 wanted to begin housekeeping two years before 
 I could persuade him to let me." 
 
 " Really, Miss Kable, he appears to have hit 
 upon exactly the right time." 
 
 " Indeed," said Reuben Kable, " I took no 
 responsibility in the matter. I simply asked her 
 schoolmistress whether she was fit to leave school; 
 and when that lady said yes, I was very glad to 
 have her at home with me. A pretty job I had 
 to get her there at first ; it wasn't likely I was 
 going to have it for nothing. The fact is, Mr. 
 Bracton, I used her so, when she was little, to 
 having me for a stock-horse to hunt the pigs out 
 of the ground, that, when she came to be ten or 
 eleven years of age, I used to come home and 
 find her, and the young damsel she has to help 
 her in the household affairs, with the bridle on 
 one of my horses, and riding him all about the 
 bush. Why, you know, I was obliged to do 
 something. Old Margaret was lame, so that she 
 used to get away from her; and what I said to 
 her always went in at one ear and out at the 
 other. So I found her her match at last." 
 
 " Schoolmistresses are no good," said Mary, 
 with an evident manifestation of the antiquity of 
 the dogma in her mind ; " I knew all that is of
 
 THE SIDE-SADDLE. 159 
 
 any use to me before I saw one. At all events, I 
 learned nothing worth learning but music : I 
 could sew as well seven years ago as I can now ; 
 and as to French, of what use is that ? I am not 
 going to France." 
 
 " Well," said her brother, " if for nothing 
 else, the money was well bestowed in associating 
 you for a few years with other young ladies, in- 
 stead of your riding, along with that other lass, 
 like two little Amazons, about the bush. But 
 never mind the past. Find us a couple of ducks 
 and a plum -pudding for dinner, or something of 
 the sort, and you shall have it all your own way 
 about the schoolmistress; Mr. Bracton and I 
 want to have a stroll round the ground. Here's 
 a piece of capital Brazil, Willoughby, which I 
 got, in spite of queen and constitution, from one 
 of the vessels from the Brazils. Fill; and we'll 
 smoke as we go. But, oh ! here's the side-saddle 
 coming." 
 
 *' Is it not a sweet one, sir?" said Mary, as she 
 exhibited a natty, little saddle such as ladies use. 
 
 " What cunning little monkeys they are," ex- 
 claimed Reuben, after the handsome, little side- 
 saddle had been duly admired, and they were on 
 their way down the path toward the water.
 
 160 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 " That was meant, you know, as a protest that 
 she doesn't ride Amazon-fashion now." 
 
 " I suppose so," said Willoughby, laughing. 
 
 A very pleasant morning succeeded. An 
 hour was spent at the water-side; where the 
 hands, having got out their few packages from 
 Sydney for the house and for various other farms 
 around, were beginning to run in a load of house- 
 timber through the stern port : the common way 
 of loading many of these small craft, in which 
 the hold is only thus accessible for long pieces of 
 bush stuff. Afterwards, running the water's edge 
 down to the south-side line, they followed it all 
 round through the bush toward the creek, which 
 bounded the farm on the north. The back line — 
 running just clear of immense masses of broken 
 rock that had shot down from the mountain, and 
 lay scattered about, gray and desolate looking, 
 and covered the ground all about with the sandy 
 detritus, into which they had for ages been 
 mouldering — presented an assurance of solitari- 
 ness on that side not to be mistaken. On cross- 
 ing the creek, however, and turning toward the 
 water's edge, they again came upon a scope of 
 clear ground. 
 
 Unlike Reuben Kable's, it was situated in the
 
 A FORSAKEN FARM. 161 
 
 midst of the busli, and at some distance from the 
 water-side. No smoke, as they approached, was 
 seen to curl up from the roof, no dogs ran bark- 
 ing forth to meet the strangers ; the fences were 
 broken; only grass and weeds were growing on 
 the cultivated ground ; marsh-mallows almost hid 
 the stockyard, whilst, in front of the house, a mob 
 of seven or eight wild cattle were warily feed- 
 ing, and, at the first yelp of the dogs, plunged 
 furiously away through the broken panels into 
 the bush. 
 
 " A forsaken farm V inquired Willoughby. 
 
 *' Yes; and very foolishly forsaken. There 
 was a murder committed behind in the moun- 
 tains yonder, by one convict upon another, as 
 they were going to hospital together; the induce- 
 ment being a solitary sovereign, that the old man 
 who was the victim had got to supply him- 
 self with a few luxuries beyond the hospital diet ; 
 and ever since the tale has been, that the mur- 
 dered old man makes nocturnal peregrinations 
 down to this spot. It was from this farm that he 
 set out : he had been assigned to the owner for 
 several years ; and the report was (after his 
 death : I never heard it before) that he had got 
 together a good bit of money, and, when he went 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 162 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 to the hospital, bad left all but tbe one sovereign 
 planted (or hidden) under some stump on the 
 farm. However, whether it was only the owner's 
 conscience smote him (for he was a hard man), or 
 whether he actually saw something, he bolted in 
 the course of a few weeks, and has been in Syd- 
 ney ever since. There's one thing about it, the 
 ground on this side of the creek is by no means 
 iirst-rate soil ; it lies low and cold." 
 
 " I was thinking," said Willoughby, " I might 
 perhaps get it at a bargain." 
 
 " Do you mean to have another farm beside 
 that at the Morrumbidgee?" 
 
 " That is not my property. Wherever I settle, 
 I must have a piece of ground, like yours, on the 
 water-side. I have been envying you ever since 
 you first described to me the situation of this 
 little farm of yours, as we rode to Manaroo." 
 
 "There is only half of it mine; the other half is 
 my sister's. But there is some Government land 
 on the other side of ours. How much money 
 do you mean to lay out?" 
 
 " I have about nine hundred pounds of my 
 own." 
 
 "You'll do no good with so much here, unless 
 you mean taking to the axe and plough, and
 
 A Ti3TE-A-T^TE. 163 
 
 having a regular agricultural farm. This is no 
 sheep country, nor is it a good part for cattle: 
 they get into the mountains and the breed 
 degenerates. Allow me to say, however, that 
 nothing would give me greater pleasure than to 
 have you for a neighbour." 
 
 Here the conversation dropped, so far as the 
 particular subject was concerned, on which the 
 young men happened to have reached so deci- 
 dedly coincident an opinion. 
 
 Mary Kable applied herself to her culinary 
 duties that day with more than ordinary steadi- 
 ness, in more than ordinary silence, taking 
 more than ordinary care that everything should 
 be without fault. Toward the close of the after- . 
 noon, Reuben was compelled to retreat to a more 
 quiet apartment, to prepare his letters and the 
 account of the boat"s load for Sydney. Mary, 
 her morning dress exchanged for one of brown silk, 
 with a deep rich lace-collar, took out her work 
 and sat down with it in the light of the window, 
 for the sun was sinking into a beclouded horizon ; 
 and Willoughby, who had been sitting on the 
 same side, instinctively drew back his chair and 
 turned towards her. Mary had now become the 
 sole object of Willoughby 's attention ; and his 
 
 m2
 
 164 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 mere mental approbation of her passed rapidly 
 into intense feclino-. For a few moments she was 
 unconscious of tiie earnest gaze that was fixed 
 upon her ; then, though she lifted not her eyes, the 
 second-sight of womanhood began to warn her. 
 At first a little anger shot through her heart; 
 then a slight sense of shame came over her ; and 
 then a feeling of joy. With the joy came back 
 her self-possession, and woman's consciousness of 
 her power, and the impulse to take a bit of 
 mirthful revenge. 
 
 " What was it you were saying last, sir ?" asked 
 Mary, as she moved the hand hither and thither, 
 that expanded the stocking foot as if to examine 
 her work critically in several positions. 
 
 " Last ! " exclaimed Willoughby. " My dear 
 Miss Kable, pray forgive me; really I have 
 behaved very rudely. — What a very dark after- 
 noon it has become!" 
 
 "A little while before Reuben went out you 
 were beginning to tell me about your mother 
 and sisters : I think you said you had two 
 sisters." 
 
 *' One sister, about your own age, and a cousin, 
 whom we have called our sister till we have 
 almost forgotten that she is not so."
 
 A TETE-A-TKTE. 165 
 
 " Whom I shall have the honour — the pleasure, 
 some of these days, if you come to live near us, of 
 seeing as Mrs. Braeton, junr., " said Mary, as 
 gaily as she could. 
 
 " Oh dear, no! My cousin and I have been joined 
 in holy wedlock by our neighbours ever since 
 we were children: but there seems," added 
 Willoughby with a remarkably good humoured 
 sort of contentment, " very little probability of 
 our entering into the holy state.'* 
 
 " Then you don't like one another ? " 
 
 " Oh yes ! Katharine is a delightful creature in 
 every respect : but she has always maintained 
 that she could not bear to marry a sailor ; so I 
 never troubled myself to fall in love with her." 
 
 " Bat why was that? I mean, why will she not 
 marry a sailor ? " 
 
 " She says she should live in a perpetual fright." 
 
 " Well, but surely there must be sailors as well 
 as other people, Mr. Braeton. I don't think 
 that's fair. Beuben is half his time on the water, 
 and I never feel frightened. At least, I am 
 frightened only when it blows very hard." 
 
 " I wonder you don't feel very lonely here by 
 yourself when Reuben is away." 
 
 " I have a young woman to come and stay with
 
 166 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 me : and then there 's the old cook, and all the 
 men at the huts close by." 
 " And Tony ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, dear old Tony ! He always takes 
 possession of the hearth-rug as soon as my brother 
 goes away. I really think he knows when Reuben 
 is going to start : he begins to assume a sort of 
 command over all the other dogs directly he sees 
 the quart-pot and hobbles strapped to the saddle." 
 " Does n't this haunted house make you feel 
 uncomfortable?" 
 
 *' No ; I never think about it. Till the ghost 
 comes to me, I shall never trouble myself about 
 him. My greatest loneliness was when we came 
 to have our old nurse no longer ; we had been 
 used to her so many years, that she was become 
 a second mother to us. Dear old Margaret 
 taught us both to read ; and taught me to sew 
 and to cook, and indeed everything of a house- 
 hold sort. Reuben was quite young when our 
 parents died, and I was a mere child. She 
 promised my mother never to forsake us till 
 w^e could take care of ourselves ; and she per- 
 formed her promise most faithfully. I never 
 could think how she could come to be trans- 
 ported."
 
 THE OLD NURSE. 167 
 
 " Was she, then, a convict originally?" 
 
 " Oh, yes ! Did you not understand that be- 
 fore ? Poor Margaret ! when first I remember 
 her, she used to sit on a Sunday, when there 
 was little to do, and cry for hours together. 
 When she was transported, they took her child 
 from her — was not that cruel? — a fine little 
 fellow of four years old. She was assigned to 
 us immediately from the ship, and my mother 
 did everything she could to secure the convey- 
 ance of her letters safely ; but Margaret could 
 never hear any tidings of the child. Perhaps it 
 died, and they would not send her word, think- 
 ing her badly enough off already ; still, it would 
 have been better than such suspense. But some 
 people are very ignorant in such things ; and 
 others are very hard-hearted. However, by 
 degrees she took to Reuben. It was a sad 
 afi^air to her when old John would rent a piece 
 of ground at Mangrove Creek. And Reuben, I 
 believe, will never be happy till he gets her back." 
 
 " Why did they not have a piece of ground 
 of your brother?" inquired Willoughby. 
 
 " The old man, it seems, wanted to sell rum 
 on the sly ; and here there are no customers : 
 there, there are plenty. Mangrove Creek is a
 
 168 
 
 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY, 
 
 sad, wild place in that respect. I am sure it 
 will never suit Margaret." 
 
 Again Reuben Kable made his appearance, 
 and a pleasant tea-time followed. A few further 
 words, which passed in the course of the evening, 
 determined the direction of future events. 
 
 " You decide, then," said the Australian, " to 
 return to Sydney by this boat ?" 
 
 " Yes," replied Willoughby ; " I think it de- 
 sirable. I cannot call the bargain, as yet, com- 
 plete ; and as you consider the sheep so well 
 worth what is asked for them, the sooner I make 
 the purchase secure the better." 
 
 " Very well. I '11 tell one of the hands to 
 come up and call you, if there 's a wind. At all 
 events, there will not be one now till full flood — 
 about three o'clock in the morning. Mary, don't 
 let our friend go without something for his din- 
 ner, if the wind does not carry them up to Port 
 Jackson. Now, I am about to make a pro- 
 posal to you, Mr. Bracton : meantime, I wish, 
 my views not to control yours at all, for I never 
 like running the risk of persuading another in 
 money matters ; but I shall be pleased if you 
 should happen to coincide in opinion with me. 
 I have been thinking, for some time past, of
 
 A TRADING PROJECT. 169 
 
 "buying a larger boat, and trading with her on 
 the various arms of Broken Bay. It is on 
 account of the numerous small arms into which 
 it breaks, that the inlet bears that name ; and 
 on the banks of all these arms there are located 
 settlers of the second and third rank, almost 
 innumerable. Many of them keep timber-getting 
 establishments, and supply Sydney with building 
 stuff; all grow corn and wheat ; many cultivate 
 and cure tobacco : so there is import for the 
 capital. As to export — you see how we live in 
 the bush — a very large amount of stores is re- 
 quired from Sydney for this locality ; but most 
 of the skippers of the boats already in the trade 
 are quite unacquainted with the settlers. Indeed, 
 it cannot be otherwise, for they often do not stay 
 in the trade beyond a few months. On the other 
 hand, I know every settler of any standing, from 
 the Green Hills in the Hawkesbury to Barren- 
 jueh ; and what sort of ' pay' he is. ISTow, if 
 it suits you to join me in a snug little sloop, 
 and sail her yourself — by buying all the stuff we 
 load with, and so loading on our own account, 
 and your selling again on Sydney wharf without 
 an intermediate agent ; and then again making 
 all the purchases of stores for back freight with
 
 170 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 cash — we can make a very good thing of it. And 
 if you should concUide to buy a section of land 
 next ours, I'll look after the felling and burning 
 off, and fencing and cropping of it for you, * free- 
 gratis,* as my countrymen say. What do you 
 say?" 
 
 " My brother has lost two boats already : it 's 
 a most dangerous run," remarked Mary, in a 
 plaintive tone, without lifting her eyes from her 
 work. 
 
 " Lost two boats? I ? Not one !" exclaimed 
 her brother. " Two lubbers of skippers lost 'em 
 for me, if you like." 
 
 " Well, I mean that, Reuben. You know how 
 many do get lost, one way and another, between 
 here and Sydney Heads." 
 
 " Any time," said the Australian, with that 
 rigid curl of the upper lip, and iron set of his 
 ivory features, which marked the passage through 
 his mind of deep vexation, — " Any time that Mr. 
 Bracton thinks it's likely to blow too hard, I'll 
 run her the trip myself, and he can take a spell. 
 Oh, Polly, Polly !" he added, as he jumped up 
 and took three or four long strides about the 
 room, and strove to laugh away his irritation, 
 " you are a contrary, little thing. ISTow, what are
 
 THE nurse's song. 171 
 
 Willoughby's and my affairs to you ? Spoilt your- 
 self, you are only fit to spoil everything else." 
 
 " No, no, Kable," interposed Willoughby, rising 
 and pushing him back into his chair. " She has 
 not spoilt this : just the contrary. I shall do what 
 you propose." 
 
 " My beautiful brother," said Mary, as she 
 stepped across into his arms, " what are you so 
 angry with me for ? There now," she continued, 
 as after an instant she wiped her brother's face 
 with her handkerchief, " your head is all in a 
 steam of perspiration again in a minute. That's 
 always the way, sir, when he gets into one 
 of his pets with me. You should not do so, 
 Reuben : you know you are always ill for two or 
 three hours afterwards. Come, I '11 sing to you." 
 
 Mary hastened to the instrument. But on the 
 occasion there was particularly little need for it: the 
 two young men were already quietly exchanging 
 smiles. Either from the appositeness of the sub- 
 ject, or to awaken another train of strong associa- 
 tions in her brother's mind, Mary Kable selected 
 a little song of the old nurse's which was a 
 favourite with him, and to which she had added a 
 bass herself. After the few first notes, however, 
 she paused, and asked Reuben if he preferred that
 
 172 
 
 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 one. " You know it is in the dialect of the north 
 of England, where Margaret came from. Will 
 Mr. Bracton understand it?" 
 
 " I was a good deal in and out of the har- 
 bours on that coast when I was a boy," said 
 Willoughby. 
 
 « Then you'll like it. Sing it, Polly. ' The 
 Fisherman's M^idow ;' isn't that the title V* 
 
 " IN"©, brother ; ' The Maniac Mother: " 
 
 Look'st* thou, my bairn ! no clouds—but a moon ! 
 
 Feyther t or friend, thou hast never a yan ; % 
 Look'st honie, yon ; — but it maun § be too soon : — 
 
 They say that thy^feyther cometh again. || 
 
 Look'st thou, sweet bairn ! — 'twas here he loved me; — 
 Red and white hedge-roses mingle and kiss ; 
 
 Look'st honie, now! — he comes to love thee : 
 Thou art mine— thou art mine, and I'm seere^ thou 
 art his. 
 
 Hist thou, dear bairn ! or we never shall hear : — 
 I know it— I know it ; thou art thin clad and cold ; 
 
 Nay, honie, hist! I'm cold too, I'm seere, 
 
 But a fisherman's boy should be bonnie and bold. 
 
 Come, honie, kiss ! What, so cold and so stiff! 
 
 See, see, the boat's filling; he calls thee and me : 
 'Tis his own calm shout in the roar of the reef: — 
 
 We '11 away o'er the cliff, through the air, to the sea. 
 
 * Look (imper.) f Father. | One. § Must. 
 
 II As an apparition. ^ Sure.
 
 A PARTING PRESENT. 173 
 
 About half-past three on the following morning, 
 one of the hands knocked impatiently at Wil- 
 loughby's window, under the verandah, at the 
 back of the cottage. " Fair wind, sir ! — begin- 
 ning to stir pretty fresh, — please to make haste." 
 On stepping aboard, a little covered wicker bas- 
 ket was pointed out to him as having been sent 
 down by the young mistress for the passenger : 
 it contained a dish of cold beef steaks and bread ; 
 tea and sugar, tied up in little square bags of new 
 longcloth, (evidently fresh from the needle;) a 
 bottle of milk, a bottle of wine, and a little pot of 
 preserves. The wind was northerly : — a run to 
 the southward; — a short reach out to sea; — 
 down the coast; — and Sydney Heads.
 
 174 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Bcclc's tactics. — Shearing and Harvest. — Keeping Christmas 
 in the Bush. — John Thomas and Biddy. — The Jewess. — 
 Beck's trap for the Welshman. 
 
 WiLLOUGHBY Bracton having falfilled the object 
 of his journey down the country, once more 
 proceeded to the Rocky Springs. The gratification 
 of the family at his return amongst them was, 
 however, sorely marred by the announcement of 
 the plan he had adopted for pursuing his own 
 future fortunes. Although, as he had told Reuben 
 Kable, he had all alons; felt an increasino; re- 
 pugnance to an entire renunciation of the sea, 
 and to a final separation from scenery he was so 
 long accustomed and so partial to, he had never 
 made any mention of his feelings to his relatives, 
 or hinted the probability that he would do other- 
 wise than continue permanently with them. His 
 natural character, like his mother's, tended mainly 
 to pursue unpretendingly, and steadily, that which 
 presented itself immediately to him as the duty
 
 Katharine's plea for reuben. 175 
 
 of the time : educationally following his father, 
 he had become a bold and skilful seaman. 
 
 For the present, also, however numerous might 
 have been his thoughts, he said nothing of Mary 
 Kable : Reuben alone had to bear all the odium 
 of his unwelcome change. Katharine only, as 
 if by instinct, appeared to comprehend the whole 
 matter: she argued that Willoughby's attached 
 friend, and the frank and able benefactor of their 
 fortunes at so critical a juncture, must be neither 
 a worthless nor an ordinary man ; and her protest 
 alone was interposed between the brief, but sharp, 
 reprobatory remark of her relatives and the 
 unknown. For the first time Jn her life she felt, 
 with pain, that it w^as possible for the benefactors 
 of her childhood, and the endeared friends of 
 so many years, — for even them to be injurious 
 and faulty, as well as others of our kind. Happily 
 for Katharine, whose moral decisions on any 
 matter were intuitive, none of her family were 
 infected by that littleness of mind that goes out 
 of its way to carp at the absent. The singular pre- 
 cision of her judgments, also, and the almost ideal 
 beauty of her attachments, had given her opinion 
 great weight amongst them ; though both one and 
 the other were rather felt than comprehended.
 
 176 
 
 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 The increased activity and entertainment re- 
 sulting from the advance of the farm affairs, 
 however, tended to mitigate the pain of this cir- 
 cumstance. 
 
 Willoughby, also, remained some v^reeks to 
 superintend the new measures incident to the 
 arrival of the flocks, which arrived rather earlier 
 than was expected : the construction of paling- 
 yards, or hurdle enclosures, being a job of some 
 time, *' bough-yards " had to be got up, together 
 with such huts as would suffice till permanent 
 stations were fixed upon. These bough-yards are 
 formed by merely felling the trees that surround 
 an area of sufficient size for the folding of the 
 flock roomily by night, and then, after lopping 
 off all the limbs, running the barrels into a line 
 of circumference, and piling on them the lopped 
 limbs, till a fence of four or tive feet high is made 
 good ; an entrance way being left, which is stopped 
 by a rough frame of any sort that can be quickly 
 knocked together. The huts for such bough- 
 yards, are usually either tent-shaped huts of bark 
 or others of the common shape, very small, and 
 rudely put together. The home-station again 
 was enlivened by the going to and fro of so many 
 more men ; the addition to a head-station of several
 
 MARTIN beck's TACTICS. 177 
 
 flocks of sheep, with their shepherds, and hut- 
 keepers, and the necessary train of dogs, makes 
 a great difference to its business and popula- 
 tion. 
 
 Martin Beck's tact and industry again displayed 
 itself in the new branch of his duties. His 
 stations were well and rapidly made, and their 
 sites ably chosen ; but not without annoyance 
 to Morgan Brown. The black, however, was too 
 conscious of the power of control inherent in his 
 own character, to neglect exhibiting his usefulness 
 to his employer on account of Morgan's soreness 
 on the point. Injury to him he knew the stock- 
 man could do none, without injuring himself, 
 which he was well aware he would not ; and the 
 mere irritation and vindictiveness of Morgan he 
 felt only as a tool to be turned to this or that 
 use, or thrown aside at any time, by ten words 
 spoken just when and how he thought fit. 
 
 Beck judged rightly that by bringing strongly 
 cut before his employers his capacity of promoting 
 their undertakings in business, he should with- 
 draw their perception from the other parts of his 
 character; and he as justly inferred that his 
 colour and race rendered him an object of im- 
 perfect sympathy to the ladies, and laid him open 
 
 VOL. I. w
 
 178 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 to a more severe and scrutlnous observation from 
 them. He miffht not reason out the conchision, 
 but he was perfectly conscious of the fact in- 
 tuitively : it needs scarcely be added that he was 
 under no error. Mrs. Bracton regarded him with 
 as much tacit aversion as she was capable of 
 entertaining ; yielding, however, to Lieutenant 
 Bracton's self-gratulations at having met with so 
 useful a man, and forgetting her dislike for the 
 moment. To Katharine, Beck was a mystery ; 
 she saw the half of his acts, but felt the whole 
 of his character; and, perplexed with the seeming 
 uncharitableness of her own feelings toward the 
 man, tried not to think upon the point at all. 
 She suggested to herself whether his colour were 
 not the origin of an imperceptible and unjust 
 prejudice ; and, her mind being essentially femi- 
 nine and not searchingly intellectual, she had 
 to leave the question undecided. Marianna, on 
 the other hand, went on from day to day, and 
 from month to month, contracting toward him 
 the most derinite and unqualified aversion ; and 
 the more he became sensible where the greatest 
 danger to iiim lay, and endeavoured by obse- 
 quiousness and studied services to conciliate her, 
 the more the young lady abominated him. Biddy,
 
 FEMALE DISLIKE OF BECK. 179 
 
 too, had ** a down " upon him, because it was well 
 known that he had " a down " on John Thomas. 
 
 " Biddy," asked her young mistress one morning, 
 as she was setting the milk just before breakfast, 
 ** when shall you move into your new dairy ? Our 
 overseer says it's now quite ready, and the 
 weather is getting very hot : a half underground 
 place, with the roof so well sodded over as the 
 new dairy is, will make the milk keep much 
 longer, and give the cream more time to rise." 
 
 " Fait', Miss, I don't know if I '11 go there 
 at all : I ^hall be always thinkin' the devil '11 fetch 
 me out of it, — sure 'twas one of his imps that 
 built it. Musha! bad luck to him every day 
 he rises." < 
 
 " Fie, fie, Biddy ! that 's all on John's account. 
 Well, we must all allow that he is not amiss for 
 a Welshman." 
 
 ** Och, then, Miss Mary Ann, and you 've got 
 nobody of your own !" 
 
 " Me, Biddy ! What do you mean ? Who?" 
 
 " The more fortune to him, Miss, for your sake; 
 and it 's not me that should say that to a captain 
 of the peelers, only for the likes of you ! Sorra 
 a boy they left about our cabin that they didn't 
 lag before Biddy Carney was twelve year old. 
 
 n2
 
 180 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 Bad cess to em all ! barrin' young Mishtur Hurley, 
 for your sake, Miss." 
 
 Marianna turned off this remark, as well as she 
 might; humming a tunc, and trying to conceal 
 a slight blush of consciousness, by averting her 
 face and walking in doors. 
 
 Biddy was the very channel through which Beck 
 was principally apprehensive of a suspicion of his 
 doings reaching Lieutenant Bracton. Working 
 cattle often wander very widely when left a few 
 days unyoked : a bullock-driver has frequently to 
 traverse the extreme of a circle extending many 
 miles every way around the farm ; and the Welsh- 
 man had occasionally to bring back his bullocks 
 from the upper part of Coolarama Creek. In 
 these journeys Beck was aware that it was not at 
 all impossible that John Thomas might recognise 
 some calf which he had first seen in Lieutenant 
 Bracton's herd, now branded with Beck's initials. 
 The more young bullocks he had broken in for 
 workers, the more likely was such a discovery 
 to take place ; for every fresh beast, and especially 
 since they were also necessarily young ones, in- 
 volved a more extensive and frequent search of 
 the run and the adjacent country by the driver. 
 And here again there appeared a remarkable trait
 
 CATTLE BRAND. 181 
 
 of this singular man's character : rather than quell 
 the natural bias of his disposition to thrift, even 
 as the mere agent of another; and rather than 
 relinquish the inclination to secure himself ap- 
 plause, he risked the additional peril for the sake 
 of establishing a reserve team ; and great as was 
 the peril, he continued to risk it with impunity. 
 
 He was not himself, however, aware of the 
 peculiar circumstance that saved him. The 
 bullock-driver had actually seen calves marked 
 with Beck's brand in several instances, and more 
 than once with Morgan Brown's brand ; and re- 
 membered them as belonging to the Rock}'^ 
 Springs' herd, and had even tried to drive them 
 out of Morgan Brown's herd from a distant part 
 of that stockman's run, where they were as much 
 as possible kept for security. The Welshman 
 had seen some branded with Martin Beck's 
 
 MB ) and others with Morgan Brown's 3VEB ; 
 
 the circle having been adopted by the black to dis- 
 tinguish his brand from Brown's. Still, he enter- 
 tained no suspicion of what was going on. 
 
 It is customary with settlers in these colonies 
 to brand occasional beasts for various members o
 
 182 
 
 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 their families, and such are generally the best, and 
 female cattle ; so as to lay for those individuals 
 the foundation of a little herd of their own. The 
 Welshman, in his simplicity, concluded that these 
 were the respective brands of Marianna Bracton 
 and of her mother, whose name was known to be 
 the same : they were just such of the young 
 cattle as would have been selected in such a case ; 
 and if he could have run them home himself, he 
 would have done so, out of good will to his em- 
 ployer. But to give Martin Beck, whose duty 
 it was to keep the herd together, the information 
 where they were to be pitched upon, was a stretch 
 of courtesy beyond John Thomas's inclination. 
 ** Let him find them or lose them," he said to him- 
 self: " If he lose them, his reputation as a stock- 
 keeper must suffer; if he find them, it will have 
 been at the cost of some labour." He made 
 atonement to his own conscience by determining 
 to keep an eye on the gathering in the stock- 
 yard when next muster-day came, and if they 
 were still absent, then he would inform Lieu- 
 tenant Bracton where, to Beck's discredit, they 
 had been allowed to stray for some months. 
 Hence, Beck was neither aware of the impending 
 danger of discovery, nor of his chance of escape.
 
 beck's bushmanship. 183 
 
 He knew that anything the Welshman might 
 detect, would go on by the maid to the mistress, 
 and from Miss Bracton to her father; but as 
 evidently nothing had reached Lieutenant Brac- 
 ton, he concluded that the Welshman knew of 
 nothing prejudicial to make known. 
 
 Thus, Beck worked on in good heart, and every- 
 thing seemed to progress and to flourish under his 
 hand : the sheep were stationed with consummate 
 judgment of feed and water, and salubrity of posi- 
 tion and scope of run; the stations were effec- 
 tively built ; and the men well selected for their 
 particular duties. Three huts were up ; and all 
 the fencing made sound, both of the stockyard and 
 the cultivated ground ; and a dairy was dug down 
 into a steep part of the hill side, and roofed with 
 bark, laid on rafters and covered with earth. A 
 new weather-boarded cottage for the family, with 
 four good rooms, and verandah in front and be- 
 hind, was in progress on the point of the hill; 
 but so placed as to leave clear the site for the 
 more substantial edifice hereafter; and a rich 
 crop of wheat, sufficient for the whole consump- 
 tion of the establishment, waved in the warm 
 summer sun, and was just fit for the sickle. The 
 proprietor might have scrutinized the progress of
 
 184 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 many fiirms, before he could have found one 
 where the same number of hands had done so 
 much and so well in the same number of months. 
 Altogether, Beck felt in a good humour with 
 himself; and, though he could never forgive the 
 Welshman's indomitable and pertinacious de- 
 fiance of his control, or quite lose sight of the 
 danger he stood in through him, he as yet retorted 
 rather with contempt than with malevolence. 
 
 Meantime, though ignorant of Beck's actual 
 practices, the Welshman was becoming a much 
 more serious adversary than he supposed. John 
 Thomas, having been acquainted for years with 
 this part of the country, was consequently ac- 
 quainted with the hutkeepers; and the hut- 
 keepers were also acquainted with their various 
 stockmen's character, and partially with their 
 movements. Among them, it was well known, 
 that Morgan Brown never *' missed a chance," if 
 such fell in his way ; and when it became known 
 that Martin Beck was often at Morgan's hut, and 
 out on the runs with him, the conclusion arose 
 spontaneously, that Martin Beck also was not 
 altogether "on the square" in the matter of 
 cattle. From the hutkeepers, this impression 
 had been further communicated to their old
 
 SHEARING AND HARVEST. 185 
 
 acquaintance, John Thomas; who, when out in 
 search of his bullocks, occasionally visited them : 
 but that severity of discipline exercised under the 
 convict system over ticket-of-leave holders, sealed 
 his lips from the utterance of any suspicions to 
 his employer. An occasional vague hint had 
 sometimes escaped him to some of the men in 
 the hut; but it was too vague and intangible to 
 be communicated : it was not even fully under- 
 stood ; nor, indeed, did the Welshman mean to 
 render it so. Beck was understood to be a free 
 born native ; and, had he been able to prove at 
 the police court any slanderous remarks of John 
 Thomas's, the result would have probably been 
 the forfeiture of the Welshman's ticket, and his 
 consequent retrocession into a state of simplfe 
 penal servitude. 
 
 The shearing season arrived, and passed; and 
 the word was heard going round that the wheat 
 was ready for the sickle. In a few days more, 
 the last load rolled heavily up to the hill, and 
 crowned the w^ell-formed stack ; and to each of 
 the band of bronze-faced reapers, as they came 
 one by one up from their hut to receive it, a 
 brimming goblet was handed by the fair Ka- 
 tharine : for Willoughby was by this time deeply
 
 186 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 engaged at Broken Bay, and Marianna had 
 betaken herself to Biddy and the dairy, leaving 
 to her cousin the more strictly domestic matters. 
 
 A good deal of work of one kind and another, 
 but all such as must be done in the particular 
 season, or left undone altogether, yet remained to 
 be got through ; and Lieutenant Bracton had pro- 
 posed to the overseer to induce the men to put 
 off their harvest-home merrymaking, to save time, 
 till Christmas-day. But Beck v^ras not by any 
 means high in favour with some of the hands, 
 especially the more independent strollers who had 
 been taken on during the press of work ; and being 
 consequently apprehensive of not succeeding in 
 carrying the point, he had evaded the task by 
 suggesting that his employer had better speak to 
 the men himself. Now it happened that both 
 Lieutenant Bracton and his overseer were absent 
 together at the very time the request should have 
 been made; otherwise, the holiday once begun, 
 it would have come too late ; Katharine, there- 
 fore, took the duty upon herself. Among the 
 casual hands was one of better bearing than the 
 rest; and she waited for his turn to come, to 
 make the appeal to him. His name on the certi- 
 ficate of freedom he showed, was Russell ; but he
 
 RUSSELL " THE L AGGER." 187 
 
 had got the title of " the lagger " (or sailor) 
 amonac the men : he associated with none of his 
 equals, and seemed to shun contact with his 
 superiors. With a fine bold person and a noble 
 brow, he appeared the wreck of some tremendous 
 fortune. The string of applicants ended, and 
 *' the lagger " came not ; and Katharine, firm to 
 her purposes, as she was womanly in her choice 
 of them, had to send for him. 
 
 *' Why, Russell, you had nearly been missed.'* 
 ** After I have earned nearly ten pounds on the 
 farm, Miss, a glass of grog is neither here nor there." 
 "Well, but you must have one, Russell, to 
 drink Mr. Bracton's health. Mr. Bracton would 
 be so much obliged if the men could put off their 
 harvest-home feast till Christmas, and then they 
 might take two or three days for it, if they like. 
 Will you ask them?" 
 
 " Certainly, Miss. It shall be done." 
 And it was ; for in half an hour all the hands 
 employed on settled jobs were busy at them. 
 
 At length came Christmas-day and the harvest- 
 home feast together. A holiday is never an early 
 day with working hands ; to them rest is the plea- 
 sure that makes the first demand. By seven 
 o'clock, only two or three were up, out of about
 
 188 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 a dozen, which the business of the season had 
 gathered in the men's hut. One of these was 
 down at the creek washing. Another, one of those 
 patient workers who will rather work for the com- 
 mon good than do nothing, is coming down the 
 hill yonder with a log of wood on his shoulder, to 
 add to the heap he is making in front of the hut 
 door for the Christmas roast. The sun is just in 
 sight above the main mountain at the head of the 
 nook ; the air is full of a warm light, and the little 
 mist in it after the dewy night makes that light 
 like a chastened but almost palpable glory, which 
 seems as if you could wave your hand in and feel 
 it : all is so still that you may hear the whirr of 
 the milk into the milking- pail all the way from the 
 stockyard. 
 
 Two or three more of the hands turn out of the 
 hut : the third one erected by the overseer, with a 
 view to the crowd of hands at the busy season ; 
 the other is forsaken, save by one sulky old man, 
 who likes to be by himself. The hut has been 
 built, with Beck's usual judgment, in such a style 
 as will allow of it being used (if floored) for 
 thrashing in, or any other purpose of a barn, when 
 the supernumeraries are gone ; its side slabs are 
 nine feet out of the ground ; its area is barn-like.
 
 CIIRISTMAS-DAY IN THE BUSH. 189 
 
 and unencumbered with any divisions, and the 
 only chimney is an unroofed end. 
 
 Now the whole mob are up ; one or two only 
 are absent, washing themselves; the rest are all 
 smoking round the fire, some standing, others 
 sitting on short blocks cut transversely from small 
 trees. Along the front of the fire are ranged ten 
 or a dozen tin quart-pots of water for tea. The 
 wood-getter comes in, and being already warmed 
 by his own industry, goes to another part of the 
 hut. — *' Come, Dick, here 's room at the fire ; 
 only fetch the tea-bag along with you, for the 
 pots are beginning." At these seasons it is often 
 the practice for all to mess together, as ration is 
 dispensed almost unlimitcdly. 
 
 Breakfast over, the business of the day begins. 
 Dick is constituted barber, and good-naturedly 
 goes over all chins. Meantime, the inquir^^ is 
 heard, "I say, who's to make the pudding? It 
 ought to be in the pot by this." Yonder steps 
 forth a man, nicknamed '^ the dandy," just fit to be 
 a cook, with no superfluous fat for the warmth to 
 act upon : a perfect lath, standing full six feet high 
 "without his shoes, in white shirt and white drill 
 trousers both incalculably patched. The dandy 
 selects a little black-visaged Irishman for his mate.
 
 190 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 " You 've got nothin' in this here hut to make a 
 puddin' in : not a single dish big enough to do at 
 three times." 
 
 ** Blood an' tare an' ouns, mate !" says the little 
 sallow-visage, " make it in the bucket.'* 
 
 The dandy, setting that vessel in readiness in 
 the middle of the floor, gives his mate directions 
 to go to the creek for a bucket of water. 
 
 *' Dandy," murmurs the easy voice of a con- 
 templative man, who sits smoking behind the fire, 
 -with his elbows on his knees, and his chin and 
 short pipe on his hands, " you 'd best give that 
 bucket a sloosh out, for I seen it half full of soap- 
 sudsy water just now." 
 
 ** I wish I 'd catch anybody washing in the 
 bucket," says the dandy, now full of the impor- 
 tance of his office ; " I 'd make him drink every 
 drop on it." 
 
 **It's the Welshman, I think," cries one of 
 those untiring wags, who are the pests of all sober 
 society. 
 
 The dandy, therefore, says no more ; for, though 
 the wantonly -libelled man is not in sight, he may 
 be just outside within sound, and the dandy is 
 conscious that there would be some difficulty in 
 making John Thomas drink two table- spoonfuls.
 
 A BUSH PLUM-PUDDING. 191 
 
 The sallow-visage, however, now arriving Vv^ith the 
 water, the bucket is duly purified. 
 
 Fifteen pounds of flour, a dozen pounds of 
 plums, about half as much currants, half a pound 
 of ground allspice, a quantity of candied lemon- 
 peel, cut in pieces about the size of a man's 
 thumb, and abundance of suet chopped a little 
 smaller, are at length, between the two buckets, 
 mixed into a batter; not without almost a battle 
 to make the little sallow-visage go and cut a sap- 
 ling to stir it with, instead of the handle of his 
 axe, which he was about to use. The pudding- 
 bag is yet wanting : what is to be done ? A true 
 socialist gives his duck frock, which, when sewed 
 well together along the bottom, just contains the 
 savoury mixture, that fills the garment up to the " 
 front opening ; it being then sewn across, the 
 monster pudding is complete. 
 
 " Where 's your pot, lads?" inquires the dandy. 
 
 " Oh, we must get the cove to lend us the big 
 pot they have for sheep-washing," is the answer. 
 
 A deputation is accordingly despatched; the 
 grant is obtained, and the immense three-legged 
 iron crock is brought down, slung on a pole on 
 two men's shoulders ; and being filled with water 
 is placed over the fire, which is well supplied with
 
 192 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 fuel. It boils at length, and in they tumble the 
 en(3rmous pudding. 
 
 " Who's going to mind this pudding?** 
 
 « Dandy will." 
 
 " Dandy won't : Dandy 's done his share.'* 
 
 " Well, somebody must." 
 
 " Tell us something we don't know." 
 
 " Here comes the Welshman : he's done nothing 
 vet." 
 
 " Ay, he 's the lad. Come, John ; and while 
 you 're looking on tell us hovr you got lagged." 
 
 " Why," said John Thomas, looking round with 
 a serious and quiet self-esteem, as he walked in, 
 putting a new thong on his whip; "I w^as only 
 catch a bird in the mountain, this side of St. 
 Asaph, and the squire send me to prison. But 
 she do herself no good : she die in six months 
 after. I hear about it before I come off. It is a 
 shame ! What is it in a bird to send a man to 
 prison for, and make him come here ?" 
 
 '* Ah ! there must have been something more 
 than that, John," retorted the last speaker. 
 
 " No, I tell you : I never do one single theive 
 in all my life but that bird. She was a little 
 thing, too ; not so big as my hand." 
 
 " You must n't come that, John," interposed the
 
 GOT LAGGED." 193 
 
 wag. " Was n't you up at the police-office in 
 Sydney, last time you was down the country, 
 about a lady's pocket-handkerchief?" 
 
 '' Ay," added another ; " and a little girl's bread 
 and butter, as she was going to school?" 
 
 ** I tell you, my man, I never take anything 
 in my life from any other man but that bird; 
 and I 'ood not stand to see any man rob another 
 man." 
 
 " Do you mean to say," inquired a third, *' that 
 if you saw me coming out of the captain's stores 
 with a piece of beef or a bottle of grog, you'd 
 split?" 
 
 " I 'ood make you put it down; or else I 'ood 
 call the captain." 
 
 <f What! if I was to give you half?" 
 
 '' I 'ood not have it." 
 
 At this identical juncture, a voice was heard at 
 the door, where the figure of Biddy appeared. 
 
 " Is Shaun Thomas here ? The masther wants 
 you, Shaun." 
 
 " Faith, an' he is," answered one. 
 
 " Come in, Biddy ! " cried another. 
 
 " Ay, come in, Biddy," added the wag ; ** John 
 wants you." 
 
 *' Here, Biddy ! Biddy!" shouted half a. dozen 
 
 VOL. I. o
 
 194 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 voices at once; '*come in, come in ! John Thomas 
 wants you. He says you 're to come in." 
 
 Biddy looked ; but, as John did not exactly ap- 
 pear to be either saying or meaning anything of 
 the sort, she merely uttered the regulation " Ana- 
 mondyoul!" and *' Come, Shaun, make haste; 
 it's something about the beef," and hastened 
 away. 
 
 The Welshman lingered a few seconds, to avoid 
 provoking a fresh burst of raillery by walking up 
 side by side v/ith Biddy ; and then, with an in- 
 dignant valediction in his own tongue, sufficiently 
 intelligible by the tone in which it was uttered, 
 obeyed the summons. 
 
 " The Welshman nobs it up well," said one. 
 '' The mistress talks and laughs with him as she 
 does n't with anybody else." 
 
 " And he 's a regular favourite with Miss Mari- 
 anna," said another. " He carries all her letters 
 over to the township to that young Jewess she 's 
 so fond of." 
 
 " Do you think it 's to the Jewess she sends all 
 them letters ?" ejaculated a third. " I should think 
 not. Take my word, most of 'em goes over to the 
 other side of the green." 
 
 « What ! to the Court-House ?"
 
 GOSSIP OF THE STATION. 195 
 
 *' Ay, to be sure ; to the new superintendent 
 of police." 
 
 " Oh, he 's got nothing but his salary ; not 
 above two hundred a year, or three, at most. Do 
 you think she 'd have him?" 
 
 " He 's a fine, handsome young fellow, though ; 
 but terrible sharp where he takes against a man." 
 
 " Then that 's just what Miss Marianna would 
 be, if she had the power," said another. " I know 
 she 's a regular sharp one." 
 
 ''Well," said the considerate man, "it's just 
 right, then, that she should get into the hands of 
 a police magistrate : if she turns out too jolly, he 
 can clap her into the cells for a night. Gammon 
 that lock-up, is n't cold of a winter night : just the 
 place for a little lady like her, vrhen she gets too 
 obscrophulous." 
 
 " Here 's the Welshman coming down," ex- 
 claimed one who had just looked out, as he hastily 
 turned in again, " with pretty near half a bullock 
 on his shoulder ! " 
 
 All hands hastened out to look. "Where did 
 you get that, Taffy ?"—« Whose is that, Welsh- 
 man?" was heard again and again, before the 
 bearer of this valuable contribution to the hut's 
 stores was able to give a reply. 
 
 o2
 
 196 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 " The captain give us that for our dinner," he 
 replied, at last, as several assisted to take the im- 
 mense piece of meat off his shoulder, and place 
 it on a sheet of bark in the middle of the floor. 
 
 '* Well," said the considerate man, after a de- 
 liberate inspection of the beef; "there must be 
 very nigh a hundredweight of meat there : bog 
 gins for a whole week : a very pretty present, lads. 
 We must drink the governor's health first, after 
 dinner." 
 
 *' I'll lay any money," said another, " Miss 
 Katharine got it for us." 
 
 *' Why not Miss Marianna ? " sharply inquired 
 another; for Katharine was by no means in 
 entire possession of the popular suffrages. " I'm 
 sure Miss Marianna 's as good as Miss Katharine." 
 
 " They '11 both do," said the considerate man, 
 now getting into better humour every minute ; 
 ^^ only you see Miss Katharine likes to go walking 
 up the hill with her book, and Miss Marianna is 
 fonder of a little life and fun. But they'll both 
 do: I've seen worse." 
 
 John Thomas could only say that Miss Katha- 
 rine, as storekeeper, had delivered it to him on 
 the captain's message, and Miss Bracton had 
 come in and given him a " regular stifler" of rum
 
 A CHRISTMAS CAROUSAL. 197 
 
 to help him to carry it down. The meat was 
 speedily divided into portions, some to be kept, 
 others to be roasted ; and thus all the viands were 
 in progress of preparation for the Christmas dinner. 
 
 Meantime, Morgan Brown added himself to the 
 company. It was a day that could not be got over 
 without a bout at the keg; but he did not happen 
 to be '^ flush" enough with money to go to the town- 
 ship; and he knew he could knock up nothing 
 like a drinking match with Martin, who abhorred 
 rum and rum-drinkers in his heart ; only employ- 
 ing the one or tolerating the other to serve his 
 grand purpose of money-getting. Morgan, now 
 in Beck's hands, never got more at his visits than 
 a couple of glasses, just to keep him in tune ; the 
 big hut, as it was called, was consequently the only 
 port for him. 
 
 There was, moreover, to be another participant 
 in the good cheer of the day — one, however, of a 
 very different stamp. Marianna had never been 
 able to persuade Rachael to gratify her by getting 
 into the little green cart and paying her a visit. 
 RachaeVs reluctance arose partly from the assigned 
 reason, that she did not like to leave her father 
 alone ; and partly (which, though she did not even 
 hint, her friend divined) that she did not feel
 
 1 98 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 quite certain of the propriety of paying the visit, 
 llachael's education had been not at all inferior 
 to Miss Bracton's ; and the property, to which she 
 would be sole heiress was at least equal to that 
 which Lieutenant Bracton possessed for division 
 amongst his whole family : but she was shrink- 
 ingly sensible of the contempt with which the 
 world regards her race. 
 
 Beside this she had contracted a timidity and 
 distaste for society which operated in the same 
 direction. The scorn of the Gentile on the one 
 side, and the persecutions of the Jew on the 
 other, had smitten upon her heart till her spirit 
 was bowed down within her, and its attitude 
 that of one who goes mourning from day to day. 
 Well, indeed, she had loved her father : but could 
 the vehement thoughts of girlhood be told to hoary 
 age ? Could the child appeal to the parent for the 
 love that worships, and, evoking worship in return, 
 consummates itself in a contention which shall be 
 the least in the presence of the other? It could not 
 be so ; and Rachael had grown up without this 
 trait thus given to character ; only that her earnest 
 soul, in its unquenchable aspiration for perfection, 
 had still aimed at it through the ideal. She had 
 loved the beautiful and holy images of her imagi-
 
 rachael's scruples. 199 
 
 nation; and, could they have lived, would have 
 gone down upon her knees before them : but she 
 knew not that there existed the impersonations of 
 her ideal in the living humanity around her. 
 None had ever lifted up the veil from their hearts 
 and shown her that they too were just such as she 
 was — that her very counterpart was passing her 
 every hour, concealed only by the ilimsy veil of 
 circumstance and form. And hence the frank and 
 strenuous truthfulness of Marianna made her seem 
 like some long lost friend restored. Thus not till 
 after some considerable period of intercourse with 
 Marianna, and gradual acquaintance with the 
 family at large, did Rachael begin to feel at all 
 at ease away from her own home. 
 
 But the self-dependence which her isolation had 
 compelled the young Jewess to learn, was only 
 defensive, not offensive : it was tempered with a 
 meekness and a shrinking back upon herself, that 
 in a maiden of a race of less stamen, would have 
 presently become morbid. 
 
 Marianna, too, had become in some measure 
 isolated by her enthusiastic temperament ; whilst 
 everything had tended to prompt ner to assert her- 
 self, and to bear herself hopefully, joyfully, and 
 fearlessly. The meeting together of these two
 
 200 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 natures was one of the appointed coincidences in 
 the stupendous system of mental development. 
 Neither character could have reached its decreed 
 perfection without contact with the other. Minds 
 thus brought into sympathy, to impart each to the 
 other an opposite property, cling as inseparably 
 together as if their law were the simple magnetic 
 one. Marianna and Katharine had not clung 
 together thus. Katharine's character had moved 
 on from her very birth in due proportion of all its 
 parts : her growth was the mere development of a 
 perfect and unerring womanhood. She had no 
 excess of the sad, like Rachael ; no extreme of the 
 buoyant, like Marianna ; but stood perfect in what 
 they were both aiming at — Marianna, from the one 
 extreme, E-achael from the other — realizing their 
 aspirations in her actual condition. 
 
 Thus the love of Marianna and Rachael for 
 each other grew more profound from day to day. 
 As each became better known to the other, each 
 found in the other more of that she needed herself. 
 Rachael often lovingly laughed at the unhesitat- 
 ing confidence of Marianna ; Marianna as often 
 lovingly lamented the timidity of Rachael. Of 
 these troubles of Marianna's, the most vexatious of 
 all was her friend's impracticability in the point of
 
 marianna's project. 201 
 
 the visit : and it was especially so in the present 
 instance. She had quite promised herself that 
 she should succeed on Christmas-day. But no ! 
 
 " Dear Miss Bracton," said Rachael, " how can 
 I leave my father alone to go to the great feast of 
 your people ? My father is a Jew. I love your 
 Prophet, and I sometimes think he loves him too ; 
 but he has never named his name aloud. I saw 
 my dear father shut his eyes and compress his lips, 
 like one who groans in spirit over an evil deed, 
 when I exclaimed, ' Alas ! that our unhappy 
 nation should have crucified the Good One ! ' 
 and he shook his head — but that is all." 
 
 Thus, in addition to her regret at Rachaers 
 over-sensitive fear of intruding upon Mr. and Mrs. 
 Bracton, and of compromising herself, Marianna 
 had the further vexation of a long-cherished pro- 
 ject proving unsuccessful. She, therefore, deter- 
 mined at once to avenge herself lovingly by send- 
 ing over to Rachael a portion of the day's viands : 
 having ascertained that nothing unusual would be 
 provided for the day at the store, and having 
 appealed to Katharine for " the nicest little plum- 
 pudding that could be made — a little beauty," she 
 arranged for John Thomas to mount and be at 
 Ghiagong with it before it had time to cool.
 
 202 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 How the dinner hour passed at the big hut may 
 be easily imagined by the reader, from the details 
 already given of the preparations. The scene 
 before described of the rum-drinking at Morgan 
 Brown's own hut will convey a sufficiently accu- 
 rate notion of what followed the dinner when the 
 customary " bottle of rum a man " for the harvest 
 home, and another " half-bottle a man " for the 
 Christmas dinner, came down to the hut. In the 
 parent country such an " allowance " appears cul- 
 pable on the part of the master. Much of qualifi- 
 cation, though no sufficient excuse of the evil prac- 
 tice, presents itself in the invariable custom and the 
 climate of the locality. A much larger quantity of 
 spirits may, undoubtedly, be used in a warm 
 country than in a cold one without excess ; as 
 much larger doses of some drugs may, and indeed 
 must, be taken to produce due effi^ct. The bad 
 custom, also, is a most tyrannical one ; established 
 in the earlier days of the Australian colonies, 
 when no strong opinions in favour of teetotalism 
 and temperance existed generally, it requires the 
 most resolute principle now to denude it of 
 authority ; and the master who has not declared 
 his determination to oppose the practice, is con- 
 sidered to have given a tacit consent to it. Such,
 
 A TOAST. 203 
 
 at this time, Lieutenant Bracton found to be his 
 position ; and his niece, sharing in his regret, de- 
 livered the rum from the stores with a burdened 
 conscience and a trembhng hand. 
 
 Toast after toast went round, as time after time 
 the panikin was replenished. There were none 
 affecting the events of our tale for some time ; but 
 at length one of the hands whom Martin Beck 
 had hired in Sydney, and who, consequently, had 
 been all along a sort of partisan of his, proposed 
 ** Good luck to the overseer." Martin Beck was 
 generally liked. Though a laborious man himself, 
 he was by no means a hard task-master to others, 
 except when he had some peculiar motive ; and, 
 •more than all, he never promoted discipline by an^ 
 appeal to the Courts. If he had to drive a lazy 
 man, it was always by some cutting sarcasm, or by 
 drawing down upon him derision and other an- 
 noyances from his hut-mates ; and so when he in- 
 dulged a temporary spite against an individual. 
 Until now, even his grudge against the Welshman 
 had never sought any further gratification than that 
 arising from perplexing him with difficult tasks, 
 and irritating him b}^ contemptuous treatment. 
 Still, this was merely the consequence of having 
 alwavs had to associate with those amono-st whom
 
 204 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 *' Court-work " was in ill favour. Naturally, he 
 had none of that generosity which refuses to be 
 beholden for revenge to an advantage not pos- 
 sessed by his enemy. 
 
 Meantime, the Welshman had just previously 
 been irritated, through being joked about Biddy 
 by the mischievous fellow already described. 
 
 " Here 's luck to John Thomas, our bullock- 
 driver, and Mrs. Thomas, lady's maid to the cows,'* 
 toasted the wag in a pause of the revelry, in a tone 
 of such seemingly sincere urbanity, that it was as 
 impossible for the Welshman to resent it, as it was 
 for the rest of the hearers to refrain from a deafen- 
 ing peal of merriment. But under the excitement 
 of the liquor, and chafed by the joke upon him- 
 self, the further submission of drinking the over- 
 seer's health was out of the question : he could not 
 take fire at the jest, without making things worse ; 
 but as to the overseer, by universal custom of 
 the country he might say what he pleased : nay 
 in speaking bluntly he knew he should be backed 
 by several, and at least protected by the majority. 
 
 " I 'ood not drink her health if she was gasping, 
 and it 'ood save her life," blurted out John 
 Thomas. ** I know her better as she know her- 
 self: she was not always come to your hut.
 
 THE WELSHMAN INCENSED. 205 
 
 countryman, for nothing," he added, addressing 
 Morgan, who was from the extreme west of Eng- 
 land, bordering on Wales. 
 
 There was so little in this ebullition different 
 from what was often said about overseers, or other 
 parties, by such as happened to bear them a 
 grudge, that none except Morgan Brown took 
 notice of it ; but on him it told more weightily 
 than even the Welshman himself was aware that 
 it could: he looked all ways at once, and then, 
 fell entirely out of the conversation. Watching 
 his opportunity, and staying only long enough to 
 satisfy himself that nothing more was likely to be 
 added, he quietly stole away to Martin's hut; 
 where he found the black stretched on his berth, 
 for once enjoying the holiday. On entering the ' 
 black's hut a step or two, he stood still a moment, 
 then going to the fire he took out his pipe, and 
 dehberately filled it, without saying a word; 
 stooping down and poking about the wood-ashes 
 till he found a live coal that exactly suited him, 
 he lit the pipe, and slowly raising himself went 
 on smoking. 
 
 " You seem in a study, old man," said Beck. 
 Morgan Brown was a middle-aged man. 
 
 " So would you be, if you 'd heard what I have.'*
 
 206 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 '' What's up?" eagerly asked the black, hastily 
 raising himself upon his elbow ; for he now under- 
 stood the meaning of Brown's manner. 
 
 " The Welshman icouldnt drink your health, if 
 it would save your life. lie knows you as well as 
 you know yourself You dont come to my hut for 
 nothing. Didn't I tell you so all along? I've 
 known John Thomas longer than you have. This 
 is what your giving him such lots of young 
 bullocks to break in comes to : if you 'd stuck to 
 the old workers he 'd never have needed to go 
 five miles from home for 'em, instead of prowling 
 all about for a dozen miles beyond my hut." 
 
 " Did he say what you said, and no nonsense?" 
 inquired the black. 
 
 *' Wh}^, of course he did, man ; or else I 
 shouldn't have come and told you." 
 
 " I '11 stop his gallop," said the black, altogether 
 losing his stammer in the force of repressed 
 passion. " Just you run over to the gully there 
 (the second in the range), t'other side the creek — 
 in your mountain, I mean — and drive my horse 
 up, while I get on my togs. Don't bring him 
 here : run him a little way along the road to the 
 township, — I'll bring the saddle and bridle." 
 
 *' Oh ! you 're going to do it murry-make-haste,
 
 " shopping" an awkward man. 207 
 
 then?" said Brown, brightening up. ''What are 
 you going at ? " 
 
 " Never you mind — I '11 have that fellow's 
 ticket before he 's a day older." 
 
 "Eh, eh?" 
 
 " He '11 never come out of that township now 
 he 's got a drop in, without going down to the 
 public-house ; and as sure as he goes there he 's 
 nippered." 
 
 " But he 's not there yet." 
 
 *' Never mind, man ; you get m}^ horse up. 
 He 's going over there directly, with some cake, 
 or pudding, or something for the Jew's daughter. 
 My word ! he *d better keep it for himself, for 
 he '11 be hungry before he comes back here 
 again." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "There, fetch the horse, and be smart. If/ 'm 
 to do it, leave me alone to do it : if you can do 
 it, go and do it." 
 
 Morgan, yielding to the superior quickness and 
 energ}'^ of the black, hastened off without further 
 explanation. " It 's a good job," said Beck, as he 
 hastened to get out his best jacket and waistcoat, 
 " that I planted my horse and told them I could n't 
 find him. Pshaw ! and that fool would have stood
 
 208 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 parley-vouing here till the chance was lost." In 
 about twenty minutes he was spurring at full 
 speed for Ghiagong. 
 
 Checking his horse, to let him blow and get rid 
 of the marks of hard galloping, as he neared the 
 township, the black rode along within cover of the 
 bush, so as not to be liable to be discerned from the 
 store, to the corner nearest to the public-house ; 
 and there dismounting, unbuckled his horse's 
 bridle, and passing it round a small tree, rebuckled 
 it to the bit. Descending the bank of the river, 
 at a point where as yet it had not reached the 
 open plain, he made his way along it on foot, 
 till he brought the public-house (which was but 
 a few paces from the bank) between him and the 
 store, so as still to conceal himself from the sight 
 of any one on Mr. Moses's premises. Rising on 
 to the bank, he then proceeded into the public- 
 house, hoping to find the man he was seeking; 
 but he was not there. 
 
 " He 's somewhere about the Court-House," 
 said Peter Burnes, the landlord ; " shall I send 
 for him?" 
 
 " Do," said the black ; *' say you want him. 
 I want to give him half a pint." 
 
 The individual sent for was a man known as
 
 GRIMSBY THE CONSTABLE. 209 
 
 Harry Grimsby, who had served a seven years' 
 sentence, and was now some four years free. 
 Too indolent to work, and too fond of a debauched 
 life to occupy himself as a hutkeeper, or in 
 any of the other easy employments of the bush ; 
 Grimsby, after getting over the principal part 
 of his servitude as a farm constable — and some 
 said a portion of it as a scourger at a distant police 
 station — had, ever since he became free, held 
 the situation of a constable at one or other of 
 the townships. This office, in Australia, is at 
 once the most despised and the most lucrative ; 
 the salary is ample, because the odium is great, 
 and other occupations are plentiful ; then there 
 are rewards for taking bushrangers, and the pro- 
 ceeds of informations constantly liable to be laid, 
 besides numerous other large and ready gains; 
 and, finally, there is the fullest opportunity of 
 fleecing the intemperate working class, when 
 intoxicated men in possession of considerable 
 amounts of wages are met with. 
 
 Harry Grimsby was amongst the most active 
 and unscrupulous of these extortioiiers. He was 
 some forty-five years of age, but in appearance 
 considerably older ; of good height, bony and 
 broad shouldered : but the most striking pecu- 
 
 VOL. I. p
 
 210 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 liarities of his physiognomy were the loss of an 
 eye, and a sort of abstractedness, and ready-for- 
 anything grin, that sat perpetually on his hard, 
 colourless countenance. 
 
 The messenger found him, where Martin might 
 have seen him if he had looked, standing with 
 his back against the side wall of the Court-House, 
 in the shade, his long staff pitched upon the toe 
 '^,«f his uncleaned boot, and his hand resting on the 
 hop end of it. On receiving the message, he 
 hurried across to the public-house, his faculties 
 in that state of delirious vigour which the habitual 
 sot attains at a certain point of his daily series 
 of stimulants. 
 
 Taking him into an unoccupied room, the 
 black proceeded to open his business. *^ I 've got 
 a troublesome customer on our farm, Grimsby ! 
 You know him well : that Taffy that drives our 
 bullocks. He thinks he 's a match for any three 
 men about ! " 
 
 "I know him," said the constable. "He's 
 double jointed, they say — as strong as a little 
 horse. What weights I've seen him lift ! " 
 
 " You 're frightened of him ? " rejoined the 
 black; putting what he meant for a taunting 
 assertion into the form of a query.
 
 " TAKING TIP." 211 
 
 The constable made no verbal reply, but, grin- 
 ning till all his teeth were visible, put his hand 
 into the pocket of his fustian shooting-jacket, and 
 bringing the butt end of a horse-pistol into sight, 
 exhibited it humorously, and then carefully put 
 it out of sight again. 
 
 '*Well! you know he's a ticket-of-leave man." 
 
 "I know," echoed the constable. 
 
 " It would just do him good to let him have six 
 months in government. He'd be glad to be 
 civil when he got his ticket again." 
 
 '^ And not a hard job neither, with our cove," 
 said the constable. " He '11 take a man's ticket for 
 looking on the wrong side of the way," and he 
 chuckled maliciously. • 
 
 *' Will you have a glass ? " 
 
 " I don't care if I do." 
 
 "Well, you can get it after I go: I'm in a 
 hurry. I '11 give you the brads. This Welshman, 
 you know, I can't get along with him at all. 
 He'll be in the township directly, and he's sure 
 to come down here. Can't you give him a night 
 over the way ? He 's half seas over now, and as 
 good as the bank to come down here; and a 
 ticket-of-leave man, you know, has no business to 
 be drinking at a public-house." 
 
 p2
 
 212 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 " What are you going to stand ? " 
 
 " Oh, giving you this trouble, you know, some- 
 thing tol-lol. Here, I'll tell you what I'll do; a 
 caser (dollar) if you give him a night of it ; and 
 four if he gets what '11 make him quiet." 
 
 " Bargain," said the constable. 
 
 "Don't be jerran (afraid) man. Only you 
 chaiF him, and you'll have his monkey up in a 
 minute ; and then if he hits out, you know it's 
 assaulting the police." 
 
 " Oh, never you fear : I know all about that." 
 
 "Here's a caser; the rest is to come. You 
 know I'm a man of my word." 
 
 " Never heard but what you was," said the con- 
 stable. 
 
 The pair parted : Grimsby betaking himself 
 to his look-out for the poor Welshman, and the 
 Black to make the best of his way back. As he 
 cantered smartly up toward the hill point, where 
 it drew near the creek, he saw Mr. Hurley riding 
 steadily towards the house at a short distance 
 before him, apparently dressed for dinner. He 
 allowed Mr. Hurley to get out of sight ; and then 
 rode easily up to the door of his own hut, and 
 deliberately took the saddle and bridle off his 
 horse, without any affectation of concealment.
 
 A TRAP FOR THE WELSHMAN. 213 
 
 He knew that by this time the Welshman must 
 be nearly at the township ; and, as he had taken 
 care not to be seen starting himself, he could 
 easily say he had found his own horse and ridden 
 out, after the Welshman had been despatched on 
 the master's. 
 
 p3
 
 214 
 
 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 The Constable's Charge.— The Welshman in a Scrape.— 
 Biddy doing Battle. — Mariauna's Plea.— Mr. Hurley and 
 the Ladies. — The Welshman released. 
 
 During the succeeding night, Harry Grimsby 
 awakened from the comatose sleep of the dram- 
 drinker, to the deUrious consciousness that fol- 
 lows it ; the phrensied and tremulous excitement 
 of caution was upon him : — remorse he never felt. 
 *^ Harry Grimsby — Harry Grimsby," he said 
 apostrophizing himself, " thou 'st put thy foot into 
 it. The man in the lock-up is a fancy man with 
 that youngest lass at the Rocky Springs ; and woe 
 be to the man that gets in the way of John Hurley-. 
 Thou must put this to rights, lad, as soon as John 
 is up." And with that he dozed off again. 
 
 At about half-past five in the morning after 
 Christmas-day, Mr. Hurley was out walking to 
 and fro in front of the Court-House. The night 
 had been excessively sultry : on such nights the 
 rest of many people is disturbed; and already
 
 THE POLICE MAGISTRATE. 215 
 
 several men were beginning to stir in and out of 
 the few buildings. 
 
 Presently the debauched and repulsive face of 
 Grimsby, who was sneaking round the corner of 
 the Court-House to listen at Mr. Hurley's chamber 
 window, and ascertain if he was at home, met 
 him suddenly as he walked to that end of the 
 front. 
 
 "Hallo, Grimsby I Where have you come 
 from ? Not abed last night ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, sir, I have been to bed; only I 
 thought as I 'd come and see if you was up, to 
 tell you, sir, as there 's a man in the cells." 
 
 "Well! What then?" 
 
 " Why, sir ; seein' as how it 's a man belongin' 
 to the Rocky Springs, I thought you'd like to 
 know." 
 
 " Hem ! very good of you, I 'm sure. Pray, 
 what 's the charge ? " 
 
 "Why, sir, he was drunk, and — and — drunk, 
 sir." 
 
 '''• Druiik.^ — ^ Drunk, and' — ^ and'' What, sir? 
 I know you, sir, of old. There's some needle- 
 pointing going on in this affair on your own side." 
 
 " Well, sir, he was assaulting the police : but I 
 don't want to press that part of the charge. The
 
 216 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 lock-up keeper's got it agin' him ; but knowin', sir, 
 as how Captain Bracton's a friend of yours, I'm 
 willin' to let that part drop." 
 
 '* Oh ! then you were the police yourself? 
 Was it I, or Mr. Bracton, that informed you that 
 this compliment would be acceptable? What 
 did the assault consist in ? You police, you 
 know, have very peculiar notions about assaults." 
 
 ** Why, sir ; he struck me." 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 ** The chin, sir." 
 
 *' I see no mark?" 
 
 ** No, sir ; it was underneath." 
 
 " Well, but that would be your neck ?" 
 
 " He hit up'ards, sir." 
 
 ''Oh! As how, pray?" 
 
 " So, sir," said the constable, doubling his fist 
 and striking it as John Thomas had done, but 
 remarkably tenderly, against his own chin. 
 
 "Well! that was a woful assault certainly. 
 Were you drinking then ? " 
 
 " Hold up your chin. Why, there 's no mark. 
 Oh, yes, I see a little discoloration. Or is it 
 dirt? You can neither have washed nor shaved 
 yourself for this three days past. You certainly
 
 THE PUBLICAN. 217 
 
 are a dirty dog, Grimsby, both in person and cha- 
 racter. Now, mind, if you don't look to it, that 
 your dress and person are kept in such a state as 
 your salary has been intentionally calculated to 
 enable you to do ; I '11 look to it that you receive 
 that salary very little longer. You know how 
 much I have put up with you already, from the 
 mere circumstance of accidentally knowing some 
 little about your child at home ; whom you left, by 
 your debaucheries, an outcast without a roof to 
 protect her from the rain — or worse. After what 
 .1 have signified to you, I wonder your conscience 
 ever allows you to sleep. How much have you 
 now got chalked up against you down at the 
 public-house?" 
 
 '' I don't know, sir." 
 
 " But at all events, I '11 put a stop to it for you 
 so far as I can. Go over and tell Mr. Peter 
 Burke, I want to speak to him for half a minute." 
 
 Grimsby had not stated that it was the Welsh- 
 man who was in the lock-up; and it never oc- 
 curred to Mr. Hurley to inquire whether the 
 man was one of the important hands on a farm. 
 When, therefore, he now went in and wrote a 
 note to Lieutenant Bracton, to apprise him where 
 he would find one of his men, he did so under
 
 218 THE EMIGRAJJT FAMILY. 
 
 the impression of its being one of the ordinary 
 labourers ; and without any expression of regret for 
 the inconvenience attending the loss of a bullock- 
 driver at such a busy season, or any offer to ex- 
 pedite the trial of the offender by (if consonant 
 with the due administration of the law) his return 
 to his work. 
 
 On going out with the note, Grimsby and the 
 publican were just approaching. " Mr. Burke," 
 said Mr. Hurley, " I don't exactly choose to 
 inquire how much this man is in your debt. 
 However, I '11 tell you this — he was half drunk 
 all day yesterday. I saw him going in to get his 
 'morning,' as I came back from bathing before 
 breakfast; I saw him down at your house again 
 three hours afterwards, when I was up on the hill 
 on the other side of the river with my glass ; I 
 saw him going over to your house, when I was 
 riding out of the township in the afternoon ; and 
 I met him so drunk that he did not even know 
 me, and almost tumbled under my horse's feet, 
 when I came back late at night. Now, observe, 
 what I tell you: there is nowhere but at your 
 house, that he can get liquor to keep it up in this 
 way. He can't buy single drams at the store, and 
 I '11 take care that Miss Moses gives him no more.
 
 Grimsby's drilling. 219 
 
 His conduct is such, that I can hreak him any 
 day I choose ; and if I have to break him, through 
 your trusting him, I '11 make you suffer for it : 
 I '11 break him on the day he receives his salary, 
 and then he *11 run away with it and never pay 
 you a farthing ; and I '11 certify that your house is 
 a pest to the township, and yourself utterly unfit 
 to have a license. I have no doubt your princi- 
 pal reason for trusting him is, that you are afraid 
 of his looking too sharp after you and the com- 
 pany in your house. But if he is only to take 
 into custody such disorderly persons as you think 
 fit, he is your constable, instead of an officer of 
 this Court. Grimsby, take this note over to the 
 settler's at the Rocky Springs." 
 
 " Humph !" said Mr. Peter Burke and the con- 
 stable to each other, eyeing the address, after the 
 young gentleman had gone in. " This Miss Brac- 
 ton (for so the note happened to be addressed), 
 then, is the settler at the Rocky Springs." 
 
 About three hours after this time, just as the 
 family at DianduUah Mountain were about to dis 
 perse from the breakfast- table, '* One-eyed Grims- 
 by," as he was usually denominated in the town- 
 ship and its neighbourhood, presented himself at 
 the door of Martin Beck's hut, covered with per-
 
 220 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 spiration, and bearing all the other marks of a 
 sharp journey on foot through the bush. Martin 
 was already aware of what had taken place ; Mor- 
 gan Brown having ridden across to Ghiagong, in 
 the evening of the preceding day, to ascertain. 
 
 *' Well, Grimsby," said the overseer, " whaVt 
 clock?*' 
 
 *' He's nippered, safe enough,*' replied Grimsby ; 
 " but it 's like to be an awkward job. I can see 
 the young fellow 's precious savage about it." 
 
 "What did he say ?" 
 
 ** Oh, not a word," replied Grimsby. '* He 's 
 too good a judge to say anything. But I shall 
 have to look out for myself for this three months 
 to come, before I shall get it out of his head. 
 Wish you 'd take this letter up to your cove." 
 
 "From Mr. Hurley?" 
 
 "Yes."' 
 
 "To Captain Bracton?" 
 
 "Yes.'' 
 
 " Well, take it to Captain Bracton, then ; don't 
 bring it to me. Have you had your breakfast? 
 But stop; you '11 like a whet first, after yesterday." 
 
 So saying, Martin, wlio was just going out when 
 Grimsby arrived, turned round, and unlocking his 
 chest, drew out a square half-gallon bottle, and
 
 THE WELSHMAN IN TROUBLE. 221 
 
 filled out nearly half a panikin of rum, for the 
 poor trembling victim of his own intemperance 
 and Beck's cunning. 
 
 *' There, drink that, man, and then make your- 
 self some breakfast. I can't stop. Hoy, Dunny 
 Jack ! " he shouted, addressing John Thomas's 
 mate, who was standing at the big hut door, won- 
 dering when, or whether at all, his principal would 
 come to light, — '* fetch up all the bullocks you can 
 find nigh hand ; here 's a constable from the town- 
 ship to say your mate 's got into a scrape. I must 
 have in just one load of flooring boards for the 
 new cottage ; and then you can do what you like 
 for the day." 
 
 '•' But how '11 you do without the bullock- 
 driver?" inquired Grimsby. 
 
 " Oh, man," replied the black, " I 've spare- 
 chained a seventy-foot girder out of a brush, with 
 a team of twelve bullocks, before now : it 's odd 
 if I can't manage half a dozen in the open 
 forest." 
 
 Martin went out, leaving the constable to help 
 himself; but Grimsby was too much terrified by 
 his position, and the reprimand he had already 
 received, to do so. Hastily making a couple of 
 gulps of the liquor, he put on his hat again, and
 
 222 
 
 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 moved towards the house. At the men's hut- 
 door, as he reached it, stood Biddy, who had 
 heard the overseer's piece of information to Dunny 
 Jack, and had stolen down to learn all she could 
 about it. 
 
 *' An* fhat have you got Shaun in the lock-up 
 for?" asked Biddy. "The divil may take you 
 to himself, that you couldn't let the poor boy 
 come to the tow^nship — and the mistress sending 
 him, too — but ye's must take his ticket from him. 
 Arrah, bad luck to ye's, ye dirt !" 
 
 " Here," said Grimsby, as rudely as he dared, 
 after surveying the mass of scowling faces that 
 had fixed their eyes on him, over one another's 
 shoulders from inside the hut, " take this letter up 
 to the master. It 's from Mr. Hurley." 
 
 '' Troth, and ye '11 take it yerself," replied 
 Biddy. 
 
 *' Here, some of you lads take it," repeated 
 Grimsby, appealing in an authoritative, but more 
 civil tone, to the men ; for he saw enough to make 
 him in haste to be" gone : he needed no telling 
 that if he could be only got inside the hut, out of 
 the master's sight and hearing, he would come out 
 sorely contused. 
 
 "Don't none of ye's take it for him, boys,"
 
 BIDDY DOING BATTLE. 223 
 
 cried Biddy. " Let the spalpeen go wid it him- 
 self. Anamondyoul!" — addressing Grimsby, — 
 " ye's didn't come here for anybody to help you 
 to put Shaun in the lock-up." 
 
 But this was all the battle Biddy could do : the 
 next minute she was to be found sobbing and 
 wringing her hands behind the dairy door. 
 
 Grimsby, meantime, baffled in all his attempts 
 to avoid going up to the hut where the family 
 resided, and where they were now just about to 
 rise from breakfast, resolutely faced the difficulty, 
 and presented himself at the door. 
 
 "A letter, your honour," he said, lifting his 
 hat as he encountered the firm, but by no means 
 aggressive, eye of the master. The portly, well- 
 aged gentleman sat between the hearth and the 
 table, with the hand of his daughter on his 
 shoulder. Katharine, who sat on the other side, 
 rose and received the missive from Grimsby at 
 the door, and seeing the direction of the letter, 
 handed it to her cousin ; she then walked round, 
 and, leaning her hands on the shoulders, and her 
 chin upon the head of Marianna, proceeded to 
 gratify her curiosity as to the contents. 
 
 In an instant, Katharine drew herself suddenly 
 up, with an expression of dismay and pain on her
 
 224 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 countenance ; while, at the same time, her cousin's 
 face assumed a look of the utmost consternation 
 and vexation. Without glancing her eye beyond 
 the first sentence, Marianna recommenced and 
 began to read aloud : — " Ghiagong, Thursday 
 morning. My dear Miss Bracton, — One of your 
 papa's men is in the cells. As it is holiday time, 
 he will probably be safer there than outside, till 
 the court sits on Saturday — (How very unfeeling 
 of Mr. Hurley !) — And now my very, very dear — 
 dear — my " — and a long pause followed. 
 
 '' Well, what else ? " asked Lieutenant Bracton; 
 not comprehending the *^ pet's " confusion. '* Who 
 does Mr. Hurley say it is?" 
 
 " Oh ! the rest," replied Katharine, *' is only 
 their little small-talk between themselves, papa." 
 
 '^Doesn't Mr. Hurley say who it is?" 
 
 " No ! not a syllable. Turn over, sister; per- 
 haps he mentions in a postscript. ]N"o, sir; not 
 a syllable : but I fear it must be John Thomas." 
 
 " Can it be John Thomas ?" asked Mrs. Bracton. 
 '* Call Biddy, my dear, and let her go to the men's 
 hut and inc[uire." 
 
 Katharine hastened to do so, but had scarcely 
 passed the threshold when Biddy presented her- 
 self, holding another note in one hand, and the
 
 225 
 
 corner of her apron, with which she had been 
 endeavouring to get her face to rights, in the 
 other. 
 
 '* Biddy ! " exclaimed Katharine. 
 
 " Oh, Miss ! they Ve got Shaun in the lock-up ; 
 and they say Mishther Hurley never forgives any 
 body for bating the police. Bad luck to the old 
 one-eyed divil ! he never had a heart in the 
 middle of his four bones like Shaun's." 
 
 ''What! the constable that brought the letter 
 just now?" 
 
 *'Fait, Miss, an' that's himself. Mishther 
 Moses's man says it was him put him in for bating 
 him." 
 
 " This note, then, was brought by Mr. Moses's 
 man?" 
 
 Katharine now returned with the second note 
 to Marianna. It was from Rachael ; and its con- 
 tents were simply these : — 
 
 ** Dearest, — You will have heard, before this 
 reaches you, that our poor messenger is in trouble. 
 What a pity I should have been the cause of the 
 mischief! He hung the bridle of his horse on 
 the hook at our door, when he went down to the 
 public house : I 'm sure he did n't mean to stop 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 226 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 ten minutes. So when we saw him going across 
 to the lock-up, my father made the man bring in 
 the saddle and bridle, and hobble the horse and 
 turn him over the river, where there is some 
 good grass. Cannot something be done for him ? 
 I hear Mr. Hurley is very severe about assaults 
 on the police; which is the charge. I mean, 
 cannot something be done to get him released 
 before court-day, which is not till Saturday? I 
 have sent him some supper, and will send him 
 something from our own table every meal time. 
 Come over. In haste, your own 
 
 Rachael." 
 
 " Papa, he shall not be flogged ! " exclaimed 
 Marianna, turning to her father, with an energy 
 which would have startled a stranger, and then 
 falling on his neck in a passion of tears. 
 
 *' My dear," urged her father, "I am not *in 
 command ' in the business ; but I believe, as he 
 is a ticket-of-leave man, the utmost will be the 
 loss of that, and his return to Government." 
 
 " Well, that 's almost as bad," sobbed Marianna. 
 " Do, do papa, try and stay them from taking his 
 ticket : he is to be married to Biddy, you know, 
 by-and-bye."
 
 227 
 
 " But, my dear Nanny, I tell yoa I have no 
 authority myself in the case ; and I think Mr 
 Hurley would very justly consider my interference 
 with his decisions highly improper." 
 
 ** I will never believe," exclaimed Marianna, 
 "' that he has been guilty of anything seriously 
 criminal." 
 
 " Mr. Moses's man, " interposed Katharine, 
 '' told Biddy that it was an assault on that old 
 constable who brought Mr. Hurley's note ; and 
 he did n't seem much hurt." 
 
 " Well, papa," pleaded Marianna, " then you '11 
 drive me over to the store, won't you ? You have 
 never seen Miss Moses 3^et, and I want you to 
 see her. I know you '11 be in love with her ; she 
 is such a sweet girl ! " 
 
 *^ Oh, no, no ! that would never do ; if only 
 on your mama's account : besides, I should break 
 the little cart down. But I suppose you and 
 Katharine had better take one of the men, and 
 go over and see what it exactly is. The offence 
 cannot be anything very serious, or Mr. Hurley 
 would have specified it himself : besides, I should 
 wish Mr. Moses to be told that whatever he thinks 
 the man needs, he can send over to the gaol for 
 him, till the trial. It certainly would be very 
 
 q2
 
 228 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 vexatious to lose that man ! I think I will ride 
 over myself." 
 
 " Well, we shall go too, sister. Papa, when you 
 order yom- horse, v*'ill you tell them to get the 
 cart ready? But you cant go — it's your horse 
 that 's over at the township." 
 
 In rather more than another hour afterwards, 
 the two young ladies entered the little parlour of 
 the store at Ghiagong, along with their friend 
 Rachael, who had lent her hand to help them 
 to jump down from the cart. 
 
 " What is to be done ?" exclaimed Marianna. 
 
 She and Rachael clasped each other's hands, 
 and looked in each other's faces ; with singularly 
 different expression however: that on Marianna's 
 face was pure anxiety,— that on Rachael's largely 
 partaking of contentment. 
 
 " Oh !" said Rachael, " it will be all very well 
 now. I am so glad you are come ! If he had lost 
 his ticket, I should never have forgotten it." 
 
 '^ But how, Rachael? — how do you mean? 
 What can I do?" 
 
 *^ You must ask Mr. Hurley, dear, and he '11 
 let him off." 
 
 " Oh, dear ! no, Rachael ; I could not do 
 that."
 
 MAIDENLY SCRUPLES. 229' 
 
 " She could not do that, Miss Moses," echoed 
 Katharine. 
 
 " Why not?" was the innocent inquiry of 
 Rachael. " Oh, you think it improper. Well, 
 how foolish!" 
 
 " Indeed, it would be improper," persisted 
 Katharine. 
 
 '^ That is very strange," murmured Rachael, 
 perplexed. 
 
 " But even if I should," pleaded Marianna — 
 " but no, Rachael, I will not." 
 
 " Mr. Bracton, says," added Katharine, '' that 
 he could not himself; plainly, then, my sister 
 could not." 
 
 *'Why?" urged Rachael — "why could not 
 your father ask Mr. Hurley to look over it?" 
 
 " Because papa feels that making such a request 
 would be almost the same thing as attempting to 
 influence Mr. Hurley in the exercise of his office : 
 besides, Mr. Hurley may really consider the 
 offence one that ought not to be looked over." 
 
 " Neither, Katharine, neither. It will be all 
 well, if Marianna will only make the request. See ! 
 here is Mr. Hurley coming over," she exclaimed, 
 pointing through the window. " I '11 ask him my- 
 self, now you are here to say Mr. Bracton wishes
 
 230 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 it. Nothing is more common, you know, than 
 for settlers to request a magistrate to forgive a 
 man, who is a good man generally, a single fault ; 
 and this, everybody says, is hardly a fault at alL 
 I shall ask in your papa's name." 
 
 Mr. Hurley's voice was now heard without, 
 calling, " Miss Rachael, Miss Rachael !" 
 
 " Open the door and come in, sir," answered 
 Rachael ; with a little finesse, thinking to throw 
 Mr. Hurley off his guard, by surprise at seeing 
 her visitors unexpectedly, and so prefer her 
 request. 
 
 *• I have a favour to beg, Miss Rachael," com- 
 menced Mr. Hurley, as he opened the door, well 
 .knowing by the cart outside who was within. 
 " Marianna ! Katharine ! shopping ? — or some- 
 thing about this man?" 
 
 '' Yes, Mr. Hurley," said Rachael, "and a 
 favour too for him, if you want one from me." 
 
 " Pray what is it, ladies ? I can tell you this, 
 that his assault on the police is only a piece of 
 humbug." 
 
 " I knew it," exclaimed Marianna : " I told 
 papa, did I not, Katharine, that he would never 
 be guilty of any real crime ? and I was sure that 
 Mr. Hurley would know so too."
 
 rachael's request. 231 
 
 ** You do me too much honour on that point, 
 Miss Bracton," said Mr. Hurley, rather seriously; 
 " I have not yet examined him ; all I know is 
 from the paltry story of his accuser. But what is 
 this favour, Miss Moses, and what is the condition 
 of your acceding to the request I have to make ? 
 Or, perhaps, I had better make the first state- 
 ment. You often give the constable, Grimsby, 
 a glass of rum ; I know it is out of kindness to 
 a man whom no one associates with — but, I assure 
 you, it has the reverse of a benevolent effect : — he 
 then wants more, and goes down to Burne's, and 
 gets rid of the friend he might keep in his pocket. 
 Don't give him any more, there's a good young 
 lady. Will you oblige me ? " 
 
 " Most willingly, Mr. Hurley ; and now more 
 so than ever : for I am afraid it is only too likely 
 that my giving him a double glass, as it was 
 Christmas-day, and he rode over so hard to bring 
 me dear Miss Bracton's seasonable present, was 
 the means of getting the man into this scrape." 
 
 "Why, who is it, Marianna?" asked Mr 
 Hurley ; " surely not your bullock-driver ?" 
 
 " Yes," replied all the young ladies at once. 
 ** Did you not know it?" 
 
 *' No : but I thought that scoundrel Grimsby
 
 232 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 must have some more than ordinary motive. He 
 came to me at six o'clock this morning, and 
 offered not to press the charge of assault, because 
 your papa v^'as a friend of mine. Ha! ha! a 
 clean bowl out ! I see it all : he thought he 'd 
 gone too far, — and no marks to show. Well, as 
 for the assault — but I must enforce respect for the 
 police, in the midst of such a population, or we 
 should presently want three times as many con- 
 stables to keep the peace. Your papa wants him 
 on the farm. Miss Bracton ? " 
 '' Yes." 
 
 " The man who looks after the Court-House 
 is away, and he has the keys ; otherwise I would 
 have him up at once. I can see you would like 
 to know the worst before you go." 
 '^ Yes : if you would be so kind." 
 " Then, again, Grimsby has not got back." 
 " There is the corporal of the mounted police, 
 Mr. Hurley, standing on the green," observed 
 Rachael; "he can tell you all about it. Shall 
 I call him to the door?" 
 
 " I '11 call him myself. Miss Moses," replied Mr. 
 Hurley; and, leaving the young ladies in the 
 parlour, he went to the door for that purpose. 
 The corporal repeated what he had already said
 
 THE policeman's STATEMENT. 233 
 
 to Rachael ; adding that the Welshman was not 
 even to be called really intoxicated. " Well," 
 said Mr. Hurley, " Grimsby says he makes no 
 charge of assault, and you say there was no 
 ground for the charge of intoxication ; and I know 
 personally that Grimsby was intoxicated himself. 
 It would be very unjust to confine the man till 
 court-day, under such circumstances. Go and 
 fetch him over." 
 
 Mr. Hurley stood at the store door, till the 
 culprit arrived. He came, all the paler for his 
 night's confinement, and looking in every direction 
 save at the magistrate ; but evidently as unsubdued 
 as if nothing had happened. 
 
 " Repeat what you have to say, in the man's, 
 presence," said the magistrate, addressing the 
 corporal. 
 
 *' Well, sir, this man was certainly a little the 
 worse for liquor. I was in at Peter Burne's, it 
 being Christmas-day, having half a pint of rum 
 after dinner, when Grimsby the constable went 
 and sat down by this man, and tried to force 
 his conversation upon him : but the man didn't 
 seem to want to have anything to say to him. 
 At last Grimsby took the jug of water, and, 
 instead of pouring it into his own glass, nearly
 
 234 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 filled this man's up ; pretending it was a mis- 
 take." 
 
 *^ Well : how about the assault?" 
 
 ** I think the prisoner asked him if he did that 
 
 on purpose, for I could not quite hear; and I 
 
 heard Grimsby say, ' as you like it.' Then the 
 
 prisoner gave him a chuck with his fist under 
 
 he chin." 
 
 "Was that all?" 
 
 " Yes, your worship ; but when Grimsby got 
 up, and pulled out his pistol, and collared him, 
 and the man tried to take the pistol away from 
 him " 
 
 '* No," interrupted the Welshman, " I never 
 want the pistol at all ; but she was very near 
 blow my brains out, she was so drunk. She hold 
 the pistol in my face, and her finger was hold the. 
 trigger." 
 
 "At last," continued the corporal, "when the 
 man began to get the best of him, he called on 
 me, in the Queen's name, to help him; and I 
 didn't dare to refuse. So then the man gave in, 
 and we took him over to the lock-up." 
 
 " You hear, Thomas," said Mr. Hurley, " what 
 the corporal says : he partly exculpates and partly 
 inculpates you. But, as the charge of assault
 
 THE WELSHMAN RELEASED. 235 
 
 resolves itself into one of a very different character 
 from those which I have determined to deal 
 severely with, I may look over for once, as it was 
 Christmas-day, your offence as a ticket-of-leave 
 man in being in liquor. You may go, corporal, — 
 he is discharged. And now let me caution you 
 not to forget how easily you can get rid of your 
 ticket of exemption from Government service. 
 Ay ! that 's Miss Bracton. She has had the 
 trouble of coming all the way over to Ghiagong, 
 this morning, to look after you. You owe your 
 release, I can tell you, to her. Take care you 
 requite her by your future good conduct." 
 
 " Yes," said the Welshman, very seriously, 
 ** I am always very fond to Miss Mary." 
 
 Mr. Hurley walked away to the corner of the 
 store, partly to conceal a smile from the culprit, 
 and partly to allow him an opportunity of paying 
 his fee of thanks to the gentle solicitors who had 
 been practising in his behalf. 
 
 That night the Welshman was welcomed safe 
 back amongst his messmates, little dreaming, 
 however, how his scrape was brought about, and 
 to whom he owed it ; whilst Martin Beck sat in 
 his hut alone, grinding his teeth with vexation.
 
 236 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 Harvest at Broken Bay. — Willoughby's " Clearers." — 
 Naming the Sloop.—" The Daisy of the Bay." — Mary 
 Kable and her new friends. 
 
 Our narrative now transfers itself to Brisbane 
 Water, as nothing of an overt kind affecting the 
 welfare of the new settlers took place at the 
 Rocky Springs for some months. Martin Beck 
 and Morgan Brown were indeed covertly watch- 
 ing the Welshman's movements, and planning 
 various schemes for getting rid of him from that 
 part of the country ; but, in the mean time, whilst 
 they supposed themselves in imminent danger 
 from his seeing on Coolarama-creek run the 
 young cattle they had branded for themselves out 
 of Lieutenant Bracton's herd, he still continued 
 to suppose them only beasts branded in the names 
 of Mrs. Bracton and her daughter. In ceaseless 
 terror of the Welshman, their malice toward him 
 became bitter, concentrated, and unscrupulous: 
 Morgan, on every fresh occasion when he met
 
 HARVEST AT BROKEN BAY. 237 
 
 with him became more and more ruffianly and 
 abusive ; while Martin's malignity took the form 
 of vigilance and silent determination. Something 
 to John Thomas's surprise and perplexity, the 
 overseer left off " drilling " him on the farm ; — 
 left him almost to himself; and even appeared 
 on occasions almost friendly. 
 
 Meantime, Broken Bay also had had its season 
 of gathering in the harvest. The fine lake-like 
 arm of Brisbane Water displayed all round upon 
 its sweep of shores an abundant crop : the maize 
 waved to and fro in the sea-breeze, its elegant 
 tassels depending from stalks of ten feet high, 
 forming arched avenues betwixt the rows, down 
 which the farm residents might stray in the heat 
 of noon quite shielded from the sun. The wheat 
 also turned out its crop of sixty-three and sixty- 
 five pounds to the bushel. Cheered by the boun- 
 tiful produce of the season, the young Australian 
 might be seen leading his reapers, with the 
 heaviest sickle and the longest strides, often till 
 the moon was radiant in the still sky of midnight. 
 The old settlers never employ so many hands as 
 new ; and, unless in the case of such as make a 
 point of maintaining a show of superior rank, 
 the members of their own families are often
 
 238 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 the quickest and most untiring reapers in the 
 field. 
 
 More than once before the wheat was off the 
 ground, and often whilst the maize was plucking, 
 Willoughby, as he was steering over to his anchor- 
 age after tacking, could perceive, first the flut- 
 tering ribbons of another bonnet beside the old 
 bushman's daughter's, and then detect the stedfast 
 gaze of its wearer across the water, and watch 
 her departure in sudden haste toward the cottage. 
 On the native's farm, too, the harvest-home and 
 the Christmas-day had both been differently cele- 
 brated from what they had been at the Rocky 
 Springs. 
 
 The owner was accustomed to his position, 
 and settled into habits no longer under the 
 tyranny of those he employed : his men were 
 paid their money whenever they chose to ask for 
 it, and it was then their own ; they might do as 
 they liked with it. But if they chose to spend it 
 in drinking, it must be — not on the farm. The 
 proprietor of the Rocky Springs, like all new 
 settlers, had yet to establish his right thus to 
 dictate, by a first year's experience of the exi- 
 gency, and by a formally expressed decision. 
 Reuben Kable's resolution on the point was so
 
 WILLOUGHBy's "CLEAIIERS." 239 
 
 well known, that no one thought of objecting to 
 his carrying it out. 
 
 "Willoughby's own section, likewise, which he 
 had now obtained possession of, was exhibiting 
 numerous tokens of the energetic superintendency 
 of his friend. A little, wiry cockney, thief-bred, 
 who had weathered all the severities of road- 
 parties and iron-gangs, with a mate exactly cor- 
 respondent to himself, from the Irish metropolis, 
 — a first-rate combination for a falling-party, — 
 having heard of the job somewhere in their 
 wanderings, came across and took ten acres by 
 the piece. They levelled it in a fortnight ; and 
 then, fancying the work and the master, and also 
 the young mistress, they agreed for the burning- 
 off. 
 
 When Willoughby came up by night, the fires 
 on his own land were no bad beacon in making 
 his anchorage : he could see them, several miles 
 before he made his berth, smouldering along the 
 bank; first dimly and smokily, then — as the 
 burners-off woke up and came out of their tent- 
 hut to put the logs together afresh after their 
 surfaces had burnt back from each other — emit- 
 ting with the jerk a shower of sparks up into the 
 darkness ; and when by contact they began to
 
 240 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 burn actively again, sending up a steady ruddy 
 blaze, chorusing all together into a deep roar 
 which might be heard far upon the water. If the 
 wind and tide were such that he happened to be 
 expected, Larry and Ned were always on the look- 
 out ; and, if they could descry the shape of the 
 well-known white sail slowly stealing along the 
 dark face of the bay, were sure to be lying 
 smoking on the bank, to board " our young cove, 
 the skipper," for a glass of the real stuff: for 
 such, and nothing but such, Willoughby had the 
 reputation of giving ship-room to. It was, how- 
 ever, difficult often to tell by the light of the fires, 
 which of the smut-masked faces was the Irish, 
 and which the Englishman's. 
 
 On the other hand, Willoughby proved as 
 welcome a coadjutor to Reuben Kable, in the 
 nautical and commercial undertaking, as Reuben 
 was an efficient superintendent of the first farm 
 operations for him. The sailors soon discovered, 
 by the bold runs made, that if they had not a 
 more fearless skipper than Reuben was when he 
 chose to sail the boat, they had a much more 
 skilful one. Paid still by the trip, and now 
 making on an average four trips where they were 
 used formerly to make three, they were well
 
 WILLOUGHBY AT BROKEN BAY. 241 
 
 satisfied with the change ; and the trading, more 
 steadily carried on by one who possessed a main 
 interest in it, proved not at all less lucrative than 
 Reuben Kable had predicted. 
 
 Indeed, all went prosperously. Only light 
 mistakes were made sometimes in a matter of 
 another sort; Willoughby forgetting himself and 
 addressing the young lady as " Polly," and Mary 
 Kable omitting to make any formal distinction 
 in addressing her brother and his friend, and 
 calling the latter Willoughby. 
 
 At length, Willoughby, having become suffi- 
 ciently acquainted with the channels of the 
 various inlets and streams of Broken Bay to pro- 
 nounce on the build of boat he would prefer for 
 his future trading, it was resolved to purchase 
 such an one, immediately an ojDportunity occurred. 
 This took place toward the latter end of February, 
 succeeding the Christmas the events of which at 
 the Rocky Springs have been already described. 
 Along with his own opinion, Willoughby, hav- 
 ing fixed his eye upon a small neat sloop, not 
 above a couple of years off the stocks, and built 
 upon one of the branches of the Hawkesbury, 
 wished to have the benefit of his father's more 
 experienced judgment. To the appeal for his 
 
 VOL. I. R
 
 242 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 advice, Lieutenant Bracton joyfully acceded, not 
 a little gratified at the successful experiment of 
 his son ; and, on reflection, far from insensible of 
 the charms which such a life must have to him 
 in the prime of his age, and habituated to salt 
 water from his infancy. 
 
 The new boat, meantime, though built in a 
 stream debouching into Broken Bay, had been 
 hitherto a Five Islander, running down the coast 
 on the other side of Port Jackson ; and had con- 
 sequently borne a name connected with the south- 
 ern trade. She was to be fresh painted ; and if 
 purchased, it was determined to give her a fresh 
 name : a matter, as all sea-going people know, of 
 not less importance than the change of name to 
 the fair sex. This became a subject of no little 
 debate, whenever, during the month of February, 
 the little party at Brisbane Water met for an 
 evening all together : but chiefly it was matter of 
 ilebate betwixt Willoughby Bracton and Mary 
 Kable; he insisting that the little sloop should 
 he called after his friend's sister, aYid she 
 contending that it should be called after his 
 ovrn. 
 
 " You can't think how much better I shall sail 
 her, Polly," said Willoughby, after a very cogent
 
 NAMING THE SLOOP. 243 
 
 argument to the contrary, " as the Mary Kable, 
 of Brisbane Water." 
 
 "Stuff, Willoughby!" exclaimed the young 
 lady, trying hard to repress one of the most ex- 
 quisite attempts ever made by a mouth to smile. 
 " Eeuben, I wish you 'd determine it. What do 
 you say?" 
 
 " JNTothing ; he may call her what he likes. 
 The Ugly Ahoays, or Mary Kable of Brisbane 
 Water ; that 's what I shall vote for." 
 
 " Very well, brother ; I 'm content. And I 
 dare say Willoughby is ; so we 're all agreed. 
 There 's no need of saying any more about it." 
 
 " I should have all the hands fighting who 'd 
 be over the stern first with a scraper," said Wil- 
 loughby, laughing. " And I doubt the painter 
 would have to make night-work to get it there 
 at all." 
 
 " Yes ; I know Jack would n't let it be there 
 for one; would he, Willoughby?" was Mary's 
 appeal. 
 
 " I shouldn't like," replied he, " to tell Jack it 
 was there by my orders." 
 
 At length Willoughby, on getting back from 
 Sydney, informed his friends that his father would 
 be there to meet him on his return ; and that, as 
 
 r2
 
 244 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 it was now some months since his mother and 
 sisters had seen him, and they, moreover, wanted 
 several things from Sydney, which only them- 
 selves could select, the ladies also meant to ac- 
 company his father. 
 
 " And now, Daisy of Broken Bay ! — there,there, 
 — my head gets raps enough with the blocks." 
 
 *' Don't you know, Willoughby, it 's very rude 
 to call people nick-names?" 
 
 " Well ; this is not what I want to talk about 
 at all," said Willoughby : " of course you must 
 go and see my sisters, Mary ; so we shall bring 
 you back again in the sloop. And, as we are at 
 a loss for a name, what so proper as to give her 
 that of the first lady she carries?" 
 
 " Agreed," replied Mary : " but if I should 
 persuade one of your sisters, or both of them, to 
 come back and stay a month with me, how then ?" 
 
 " I rather think they won't get leave," replied 
 Willoughby ; " but, if such a thing should hap- 
 pen, we must lump you all into one collective 
 title. Say the Three Nereides." 
 
 " Nereides ! I have seen the word, I know, in 
 the heathen mythology: but I never could read 
 that mythology: I quite hated it; it seems like 
 a history of mad people."
 
 MARY KABLE's TRIP TO SYDNEY. 245 
 
 " Well, darling," said Reuben, " we must take 
 you with us this time, at all rates : we can talk 
 about the name of the boat afterwards. I wish you 
 to be acquainted with the Miss Bractons ; so get 
 ready all you want in the course of to-morrow. 
 There's almost sure to be a wind at the change of 
 the moon. Don't you think there will?" 
 
 " Yes ; to-morrow night about this time, you 
 ought to be ready to come aboard." 
 
 Accordingly at the specified hour on the fol- 
 lowing evening, her heavy luggage already aboard 
 in the captain's care, Mary Kable, furred to the 
 chin and shawled to the ankles, her little basket 
 in her hand, tripped lightly down the dewy path, 
 through the darkness, to the wharf; and then, 
 with a brother holding her hand before, and a 
 brother's friend taking care of her behind, she 
 stepped along the narrow plank laid from the 
 bank to the deck. The anchor was heaved ; and, 
 in a few minutes, the old Sarah stood out into 
 the bay, for the last time, from Reuben Kable 's 
 wharf. 
 
 The party had a quick and pleasant voyage. 
 Soon after daylight they ran up Sydney harbour, 
 in company with the Little Bee; and, the wind 
 chopping round, made a long leg over to the north
 
 246 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 shore of Cockle Bay ; then tacked and shot 
 across to the Market Wharf, where they dropped 
 anchor. Reuben Kable soon afterwards accom- 
 panied his friend and his sister to Lieutenant Brae- 
 ton's hotel. He and the young ladies were out 
 for a morning walk, but Mrs. Bracton, who was 
 awaiting their return to breakfast, received Mary 
 with such marked regard, as to leave Beuben no 
 doubt that in some way she had surmised the 
 future relationship to her family of the unaffected 
 and beautiful stranger. With this satisfaction, 
 after arranging for her stay at the hotel, her brother 
 made no hesitation in proceeding about urgent 
 business of his own on the Nepean River ; whither 
 he was obliged to make his way by an early 
 coach, having no horse in Sydney. 
 
 Reuben had thus no opportunity of joining his 
 friend Lieutenant Bracton in the survey of the 
 new sloop : but this was of little consequence, as he 
 had known her from the time when her keel was 
 first laid down, on the banks of that branch of the 
 Hawkesbury in which she was built. Lieutenant 
 Bracton decidedly approved of Willoughby's 
 choice. " A good sea-boat," said the old gentle- 
 man emphatically, directly he had run his eye over 
 her ; " and well built for stowing away cargo."
 
 " THE DAISY OF THE BAY." 247 
 
 Again, carrying his own crew with him, Wil- 
 loughby steered down the harbour, accompanied 
 by the old consort of his craft, the Little Bee, 
 and a whole host of the Musquito fleet. They 
 had fair weather into Broken Bay heads ; where, 
 as he had to run this trip up the Hav/kesbury, 
 Reuben and Mary had to be transhipped to 
 the Bee. 
 
 When the Australian maid turned to make her 
 unobserved adieu to the young skipper, from the 
 deck of the Bee, as the new sloop shot off up the 
 main channel, to her surprise and delight she 
 read, in letters of gold, her own name upon the 
 stern. All eyes on both decks were fixed upon 
 her : no one moved, and for a little while no one 
 spoke; then, from the deck of the sloop, there 
 rose, above the bluster of the wind and the roar 
 of Barrenjueh, the sailors' loud huzzas, and her 
 own name mingled with the cheers, as the whole 
 crew waved their caps — even to the little sea-boy, 
 Jack, mounted on the bulwark, and holding on by 
 the rigging ; whilst the young skipper, uncovered, 
 stood leaning over the stern. The hands on the 
 schooner returned the shout by a cheer for " The 
 Daisy of the Bay ; '* — and whether to blush, or 
 cry, or laugh, Mary knew not, till Reuben put
 
 248 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 his arms round her, and, taking her hands in his, 
 turned her face to the fresh breeze, and so sup- 
 ported her till they had run round the bluff rock 
 on the starboard beam, into smooth water. 
 
 Half an hour's quiet thought, and a few sighs 
 to relieve her surcharged heart, and the healthful 
 maiden was herself again. And when, as the 
 little vessel beat tediously onward toward home, 
 Reuben sat down beside her, and inquired how 
 she had enjoyed herself with the Miss Bractons, 
 she had a tale to tell of deeper interest than any 
 that had fallen to her lot for a long, long time. 
 Unused to the polished grace of an English 
 lady's manner — and, possibly, a little roguishly 
 practised upon by Marianna, — she could not find 
 words fully to express her delight in her new 
 friends. " Oh, brother," she said, *' I wish you 
 had seen Katharine ; you never saw anything so 
 lovely. Willoughby's sister is very beautiful ; 
 but she is such a clever girl that one is almost 
 afraid of her. But Katharine ! oh, she has such 
 eyes, Reuben ! And she is so calm and self- 
 possessed, and yet so friendly ! And her voice ; 
 — you can't get it out of your ear ! I hear it 
 still, as if she were here and now speaking. 
 And, then, the way she talks ; as if she were
 
 KATHARINE. 249 
 
 one's mother ! And she dresses so nicely ; and 
 there is such gracefulness in [everything she 
 does. And such beautiful hands ! — and her 
 skin! — really, Keuben, on her temples, when 
 the hair is thrown back, it seems as if you 
 could actually see the blood bounding along 
 within her violet veins !" 
 
 " There — there — there ! that '11 do for this 
 time; I can't stop to hear any more. Get 
 all your little traps together ; it '11 be down- 
 anchor directly. Well, we 've made a very 
 quick run. So, you see, Willoughby 's done us: 
 — it 's the Mary Kahle, of Brisbane Water, after 
 all." 
 
 From this time forward the ^^Mary Kahle" main- . 
 tained an active and lucrative trade on the various 
 waters of Broken Bay. The scarcity of a circu- 
 lating medium in the Australian colonies has led 
 to the establishment of a system of barter : and 
 this of all modes of commercial traffic is the 
 most lucrative to the dealer ; who not only ob- 
 tains his profit on the goods he gives, but he 
 invariably resells at a second profit those he 
 receives in exchange. But where the master of one 
 of these trading crafts has it in his power to pay 
 in cash for p;rain, or tobacco in the leaf, sawn
 
 250 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 timber, or other produce of the farms on the 
 banks, a still further gain accrues to him, through 
 a lower price being taken by the producers for 
 commodities sold for money, than would be taken 
 if they were merely bartered ; whilst yet again the 
 dealer who pays ready money to the Sydney mer- 
 chants for the goods he buys of them invariably 
 obtains a considerable discount. 
 
 It may easily be supposed that the friendship 
 of the young men increased, as each discovered 
 the trustworthiness and capacity of the other. 
 Reuben also could not be blind to his friend's 
 growing attachment to his sister ; while Mary, on 
 her part, if she bashfully shunned reasoning upon 
 the point, nevertheless instinctively felt that her 
 partiality for her brother's friend was justified, 
 both by his inherent qualities and by her brother's 
 previous recognition of them. Never before had 
 she seen the thoughtful, and at times seemingly 
 almost haughty, Reuben, make a familiar acquaint- 
 ance with others. Probably he had not done 
 so now, but that the consciousness of having 
 rendered Willoughby and his family an im- 
 portant service dispersed the habitual reserve 
 which belonged to his character, and led him 
 at once into a degree of familiar intercourse
 
 Katharine's pet. 251 
 
 which proved the more agreeable to him from its 
 novelty. 
 
 Henceforth many an evening did Mary while 
 away by her reminiscences of her trip to Sydney; 
 but on whatsoever point of the subject she began, 
 she invariably ended with a eulogy of "dear 
 Katharine." One while it was her beauty ; another 
 time it was her goodness ; then it was — " Oh ! 
 brother, I never told you about the little boy 
 that's so fond of her. His mother and father, you 
 know, have just come out from England, and are 
 staying at the same hotel. And the little fellow, 
 though he is only about two years and a half old, 
 comes a dozen times a day, and beats at the door, 
 and when they open it and say, ' Well, sir, whom 
 do you want?' He says, ' Kath., Kath. ;' so 
 Katharine takes him on her lap, and spreads a 
 whole tableful of drawings before him ; and, 
 when he's tired of looking at them, he throws 
 himself back in her arms with a sigh, and goes 
 to sleep. Then Katharine takes him to his 
 mama's room and lays him on the bed; but 
 by-and-bye he's back at the door again to get to 
 * Kath.' " 
 
 " There, there. Pray don't tell me any 
 more."
 
 252 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 " Ah ! it 's very unkind of you, Reuben, not to 
 listen. You always want to stop me when I begin 
 to talk about dear Katharine. If you had seen 
 her yourself, you wouldn't do so."
 
 BRACTON APPOINTED A MAGISTRATE. 253 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 The Cattle-stealers in danger of detection. — The Bullock- 
 driver Shepherding. — Aversion of Cattle to Sheep.— 
 Branding Cattle. — A trap for the Welshman. 
 
 The transactions at the Rocky Springs now throw 
 themselves into a twelvemonth's tale. Before 
 leaving Sydney, Lieutenant Bracton, as a naval 
 officer, and known to be a settler of substance, 
 received for himself and his family an invitation to 
 one of the public parties at Government House ; 
 and, becoming thus personally known to his 
 Excellency the Governor, was a few days after- 
 wards gazetted as a magistrate of the territory. 
 
 On their arrival at home, the family found the 
 new cottage complete in every respect, and fit for 
 inhabitation. The unwearied industry and policy 
 of Beck had also added an enclosure at the sides 
 and front, with neat open paling for a flower gar- 
 den : a kitchen garden had been already formed, 
 by the parting off of a small piece of the culti- 
 vated ground in the flat.
 
 254 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY, 
 
 The increase of the sheep being sufficient for 
 forming two full flocks of lambs, these were now 
 weaned and running at fresh stations ; so that 
 now there were altogether six flocks : two of 
 these were carried out some distance ahead, the 
 others remained at the stations already established. 
 
 The overseer was "too good a judge " to take 
 advantage of his having entire control on the farm, 
 for shewing any increased severity to the Welsh- 
 man : he knew that any such procedure would 
 tell against himself; whilst, on the other hand, 
 the conduct of everything without disturbance, 
 and the entire neglect of such an opportunity of 
 molesting the bullock-driver, would speak as 
 strongly in his favour. It was quite in vain, 
 therefore, that the more impatient and short- 
 sighted Morgan Brown urged him to seize 
 this opportunity for entrapping the Welshman : 
 Martin knew that such a step in the absence of 
 Lieutenant Bracton, would be closely scrutinized 
 by the police magistrate, and perhaps dragged 
 to a second examination on the return of the 
 family. He was determined to "finish off" his 
 man effectually the next time he made the 
 attempt ; and the virulent malignity he indulged 
 in towards him was so undisguised, both to Brown
 
 ROWLEY THE HUTKEEPER. 255 
 
 and himself, that it was indeed foreign to his 
 character to take a second hasty and incomplete 
 step. 
 
 A few days after the return of the lieutenant and 
 his family, and toward the close of one of the last 
 warm days of the summer, Martin Beck rode lei- 
 surely over the ridge at the back of Coolarama 
 Creek hut, and down the hill obliquely, (to break 
 the descent) toward the hut and stockyard. The 
 stockman was out ; but the hutkeeper, in the cus- 
 tomary style of his order (which is almost without 
 exception composed of the laziest fellows in the 
 colony), was taking his afternoon lounge : he lay 
 half asleep on his little flock pallet extended 
 along the rude berth, formed of round sapling 
 uprights with their bark on, with similar side and 
 cross-pieces covered with a sheet of bark, on 
 which the bedding was laid. The black entered 
 unperceived ; leaving his horse to graze on the 
 fine green sward that gradually forms around a 
 station where the ground is tolerably moist. 
 
 " Hollo, Rowley ! " he cried, stammering as 
 usual. " What, taking a bandge ? You hut- 
 keepers do it up rummy. I wish I could get such 
 a chance. Where 's Morgan." 
 
 " He '11 be here directly ; he told me to keep
 
 256 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 his dinner at the fire for him, " replied the hut- 
 keeper, drowsily, throwing his arms abroad from 
 his face, over which they had been gathered to 
 break the strong light of the afternoon sun 
 slanting full in at the low door. " I'm thinking 
 there'll be enough for us all to do directly. 
 We '11 all have to leave off bandging it for a bit." 
 
 "How's that." 
 
 " Oh ! our cove's coming to muster all the cat- 
 tle on the run." 
 
 " The deuce he is ! What 's that for." 
 " Sold three hundred head to some ' free 
 object' that's just come to the colony. So," he 
 continued — for the principals had not allowed 
 him to become fully informed as to actual matter 
 of fact, though it was impossible to prevent him 
 from having certain notions of his own about them 
 — " if you and Morgan don't look out, I judge 
 there '11 be a screw loose. I think Morgan wants 
 to see you, — should 'nt wonder if he has 'nt gone 
 over to your place now. He asked if you had been 
 here, and then galloped ofiPin a precious hurry." 
 
 To these remarks the overseer made no reply, 
 further than an almost inaudible expression of 
 surprise and vexation ; but, stooping, he passed 
 out again through the low doorway, and, after
 
 AN ALARM. 257 
 
 listening for a few seconds in various directions, 
 walked restlessly to and fro in front of the hut. 
 
 At length the clatter of a horse's hoofs rising 
 the range on the opposite side at a quick pace 
 arrested his attention ; and in a few minutes the 
 rider's straw hat, and then his figure, and his 
 horse's, became visible over the top of the hill : 
 Beck recognised the stockman. Breaking, as 
 customary, the steepness of the descent by an 
 oblique course, Morgan Brown was seen ap- 
 proaching with the single spur, short stirrups, and 
 gathered whip, characteristic of his occupation; 
 urging his horse more rapidly than some riders 
 would think safe, where the foot-hold was only on 
 loose stones. Jumping off his horse as it reached- 
 the level, but leaving the saddle and bridle on, and 
 turning it to " pick" on the short grass round the 
 hut, he came forward. A single glance in each 
 other's faces sufficed to effect an understanding 
 that there was something amiss. 
 
 *^ Something must be done, my hearty ! and 
 that directly," said the stockman. "My cove's 
 very near here: if he 's not already got on to 
 the run, he can't be above a day's stage off 
 at most. Warraghi Bill rode eighteen hours 
 yesterday to get a day a head of him, to tell 
 
 VOL„ I. s
 
 258 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 me he was coming ; but he travels so sharp that 
 there *s no knowing after all if he was n't close 
 on Warraghi's horse's tail all day. However, he 's 
 a precious * lushington/ that 's one thing ; and 
 if he comes through Ghiagong he '11 never get 
 by Peter Burne's without half a dozen of cham- 
 pagne." 
 
 " Does Warraghi know anything about my 
 cattle?" inquired Beck in a tone of irritation. 
 " Warraghi 's not a sound man, to my thinking." 
 
 " IN'o," replied the stockman; *^but he does 
 about mine. You 're always afraid of yourself, 
 Mr. Blueskin : no matter to you if every stock- 
 man in the quarter got lagged, so as you did n't 
 yourself." 
 
 " That 's as you say." 
 
 "Well, it's no use jawing about that now. 
 Something must be done." 
 
 "Well, what is it to be?" 
 
 " There 's one thing," said Morgan ; " they Ve 
 all together." Checking himself, he turned to 
 the hutkeeper, who had come outside to join 
 the conference : " The milking cattle are just 
 over the hill, Rowley ; you had better drive them 
 up to the yard before they wander off again. — 
 I don't know what to make of that fellow," he
 
 THE SURVEYOR. 259 
 
 added, as soon as the hutkeeper was out of hear- 
 ing ; " he does n't know much, but what he does 
 know is too much. I 'm not afraid of his saying* 
 anything to the cove ; but he 's very thick with 
 your bullock-driver, and I expect they have their 
 yarns about us." 
 
 " I don't see the harm, after all, of them few 
 head stopping on your run. Who's to know 
 who claims 'em ? " 
 
 "Why, that 's just the very thing," rejoined Mor- 
 gan. *' Here 's my cove coming to pick out three 
 hundred head for a sale he 's made : he '11 be all 
 over the run in about six hours. He was survey- 
 ing in this part for two or three years, and there 's 
 hardly a tree from one end of the bush to th^ 
 other that he does n't know ; so that he '11 be down 
 in every gully, and up over every range. And, 
 my word, if there 's a thing to be seen he '11 see 
 it ; for he 's got an eye in his head like a hawk. 
 Then, when he comes home to the hut, it'll be — 
 ' Morgan Brown, where did all those young cattle 
 branded MB and MB in a circle, come from ? 
 Who owns them V ^ I'm sure I dont know, sir/' 
 ' Don't know ! That 's queer : about a dozen 
 head, all under eighteen months, and no mothers 
 with 'em ! not a single aged beast among them ! 
 
 s2
 
 260 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 All picked cattle too ! first-rate cattle ! And all 
 heifers !— that's what I look at. Where, in 
 the name of the pipers, did they come from? 
 Now, Morgan, do you think such a lot as that 
 ever singled out of a herd and wandered here of 
 themselves ? Come, come, Mr. Brown, don't 
 gammon green: tell us all about it.' There, — 
 that '11 be just how he '11 go on. Then, what am 
 I to say?" 
 
 " Well, if your cove 's what you say, the sooner 
 they 're moved the better : I did n't know till now 
 that he was such a good judge of cattle. But 
 where are they to go to ? If they're taken away 
 by themselves, they '11 be off. The one half of 
 *em will never be gathered again." 
 
 " They 'd better go into that mob of moun- 
 taineers that always runs separate from your 
 quiet cattle in the ranges." 
 
 "But the two mobs are always joining, and 
 often stay together in the flat for the half day at 
 a stretch, when the " Russians" come down to the 
 creek to water ; and there 's no water anywhere 
 else now, you know." 
 
 " And then you think the Welshman will 
 see 'em ? " 
 
 " Of course."
 
 THE WELSHMAN IN THE WAY. 261 
 
 " Well, then, why don't you put him some- 
 where, where he '11 have a better job ? Is a fellow 
 always to live in fear of his life, through him ? If 
 I was in your place, I 'd soon be level chalks 
 with him." 
 
 " Ah ! easier said than done," replied the 
 black. " However, we can do this little busi- 
 ness safe enough. We '11 take 'em off your run, 
 and drive 'em into our wild mob, and let 'era 
 come down among the quiet cattle if they will. 
 The cove himself just knows as much which are 
 his own cattle as if he 'd bought them to-morrow. 
 If the Durham bull was to be branded for his 
 next-door neighbour, he'd never notice it: he 
 neither takes notice of beasts nor brands ; so. 
 there 's no fear of his knowing any of the lot 
 again. And I '11 persuade him to send the Welsh- 
 man shepherding for a few days at one of the 
 out-stations, till your governor is off to Sydney 
 again." 
 
 " You 'd a great deal best take and get that 
 Welshman out of the way : if you don't, worse '11 
 come of it. Now mind what I tell you, Martin ; 
 — see if my words don't come true." 
 
 " Well, well ; I 've told you, the first chance I 
 can get, I will. But I won't make any more
 
 262 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 mulls : next time I try, it must be done clean 
 work. Let 's be off, and run these heifers over 
 to one of the camping grounds." 
 
 " Where do your mountaineers camp, now the 
 pipe-clay creek is dry ?" 
 
 " They 're making a new camping ground 
 about a mile back from the creek, over the 
 first range; where that large sandy flat is with 
 the black wattles in." 
 
 " Come, then," said Brown. And away they 
 both started, to execute their project ; which, as 
 the reader will have understood, was that of 
 securing themselves from detection by either 
 Morgan's master on the one hand, or the pro- 
 prietor of the Rocky Springs on the other. 
 
 Morgan, who took care of Martin's booty, was 
 allowed by him to brand an odd beast now and 
 then out of the Rocky Springs herd for him- 
 self; and the whole lot had now to be kept off 
 Morgan's run till his master was gone down the 
 country again : at the same time, care had to be 
 taken to prevent the cattle being recognised by 
 the Welshman on Lieutenant Bracton's run. 
 But this piece of cunning was destined to de- 
 feat itself. The Welshman would still have 
 continued to suppose that the MBs were
 
 CUNNING SELF-DEFEATED. 263 
 
 brands of members of the family, if he had 
 remained at his ordinary occupation and ob- 
 served them ; but the very circumstance of his 
 being sent shepherding, was the first of the train 
 of events that terminated in Martin Beck's 
 detection and ruin. 
 
 After the cattle had been satisfactorily disposed 
 of, the overseer went on to compass his second 
 point, of getting John Thomas out of the way. 
 He was depending on one of the shepherds who 
 was ill, giving up his flock to go to hospital ; 
 and on there being no spare hand to supply his 
 place at the time but the bullock-driver. The 
 sick man was one of a lot of prisoners who had 
 been assigned ; and Martin, before returning to 
 the farm, rode round to the station where he was, 
 and suggested to him that he ought not to trifle 
 with his disorder ; hinting that, if he really felt 
 ill enough to go to hospital, he would take care 
 that he had some tea, sugar, and tobacco, and 
 a few shillings in his pocket. This proved effec- 
 tual ; and next morning, by breakfast time, the 
 man was at the farm, and reported himself too 
 ill to take out his flock. 
 
 Lieutenant Bracton, after giving him a "pass" 
 to the nearest hospital (nearly a hundred miles
 
 264 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 away), had to inform the overseer of the neces- 
 sity for sending out a substitute, and to consult 
 him as to who it could be. The wily black 
 easily convinced him that no other man then on 
 the farm, but the Welshman, could be spared j 
 and instantly sent to summon John Thomas, that 
 he might receive orders to proceed to the station 
 and take charge of the flock, from Lieutenant 
 Bracton himself, and thus have no appeal. 
 
 John Thomas, who was by no means careful to 
 maintain the same amiable temper in the pre- 
 sence of Mr. Bracton as he invariably did before 
 the ladies, received his orders with a very bad 
 grace. " Tam the sheep ! — there is never any 
 luck where it is : — cutting up the grass like a 
 locust, and leaving nothing for the poor beasts 
 to drink ; and driving away the cattle : — going, 
 'alking about everywhere, and the cattle 'ont 
 feed after it. I never hire again for general 
 service. I never have hire till this time for 
 anything but bullock-driving; nor I never hire 
 no more for anything but that." The opening 
 imprecation was uttered as he stood facing Lieu- 
 tenant Bracton and the overseer, and the con- 
 cluding declaration was completed at about a 
 hundred yards off, as he passed through the
 
 AVERSION OF CATTLE TO SHEEP. 265 
 
 doorway of his hut; though he had not ceased 
 speaking : he thus avoided hearing any comments 
 which Mr. Bracton might have to make, either 
 as master or magistrate. 
 
 From the sentiments just expressed by John 
 Thomas, it will be concluded that both sheep and 
 shepherds are in very ill favour with the stock- 
 men in our Australian colonies, as well as with 
 the bullock-drivers : such is the case. Cattle 
 almost invariably refuse to feed after sheep ; and 
 thus, wandering restlessly over the ground where 
 sheep have passed, frequently get far away from 
 where they ought to be, and give incalculable 
 trouble to the men employed in looking after 
 them. The consequence is, a settled feud between 
 those who tend cattle and those who tend sheep : 
 little entertained by the shepherds, however, be- 
 cause their flocks suffer no annoyance from the 
 passage of cattle over their run ; but very strongly 
 felt by the stockkeepers, in consequence of the 
 aversion manifested by their herds at the transit 
 of sheep over their feeding-ground, or the ap- 
 proach of a flock to their water-holes. The 
 annoyance, indeed, occasioned by sheep to horned 
 cattle is sometimes so great, that they will even 
 charge the flock, and scatter it in all directions.
 
 266 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 Consequently, no task could have been found for 
 the Welshman which he would have set about so 
 reluctantly, and have obstmately gone on perform- 
 ing with such a dogged and perverse disregard 
 to all but the mere form, as this. There was 
 probably nothing else he could have been set to 
 do, in doing which his first thought would not have 
 been his employer's advantage : but in shepherd- 
 ing he only felt that the sheep were "<2 curse 
 wherever they went.'' Whatever became of them, 
 he would take care of his bullocks ; keeping on 
 their track, and not letting them get scattered 
 apart ; and wherever he could find the best feed, 
 driving them to it, and keeping the sheep away. 
 Now, these two occupations of shepherd and 
 bullock-watchman, it was impossible for John 
 Thomas, or any one else, to perform adequately- 
 together : hence the difficulties into which he 
 was hastening to throw himself. 
 
 The expedient of the cattle-stealers to avoid 
 immediate detection proved thus far successful; 
 the surveyor gathered his lot of cattle, and de- 
 livered them to the purchaser's stockman, and 
 returned to Sydney ; nor did any one belong- 
 ing to the Rocky Springs (except Martin himself) 
 notice the strange MB brands among the cattle.
 
 MUSTERING AND BRANDING CATTLE. 267 
 
 And now that important period to all connected 
 in any way with horned cattle, the annual brand- 
 ing-day, approached, when the bullock-driver 
 sees the whole herd together. If there be one 
 more likely to turn out a strong and kindly 
 worker than another, he can point it out, and 
 get leave to bring it under the yoke. The stock- 
 keeper, too, has on that day to give a full account 
 of how he has executed his trust : he must show 
 the produce of every cow, or account for its non- 
 appearance ; and he must find a mother for every 
 calf, or give good reason for her absence. Without 
 such a system, indeed, it would be impossible for 
 a settler to retain his cattle and their increase. 
 The settler himself, therefore, also looks upoij 
 the annual muster, or branding-day, as it is 
 frequently called, as one of the most important 
 in the twelve months ; all unbranded beasts over 
 six months old, and often under, being on that 
 day marked with the owner's initials, or other 
 marks. In the establishments of the elder settlers, 
 these branding-days are conducted with no little 
 ceremony ; everything goes forward in a settled 
 form, and every one has his appointed office. 
 The records are most exactly kept, and most 
 carefully appealed to; every beast being exa-
 
 268 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 mined, as described by his or her marks in the 
 stockbook : if female, and possessed of a this- 
 year's calf, that calf is minutely described, and 
 booked to her. 
 
 In short, everything is done that will act as a 
 stringent check upon the notorious and admitted 
 predatory inclinations of the stockmen. Of course, 
 none of these men will acknowledge any par- 
 ticular act of an illegal nature ; but they never 
 think of disputing the general truth that " they 
 do a little when they have a chance." This 
 vigorous system of " taking stock " — or rather of 
 keeping it — never gives them the slightest offence ; 
 whilst it is absolutely indispensable to the pos- 
 sessors of large herds. 
 
 As yet, neither the extent of his herd nor an 
 acquaintance with the habits of other farms had 
 led Lieutenant Bracton to adopt this rigid style 
 of muster : the operation of branding and the 
 formality of a yearly gathering were the chief 
 elements in his notion of a muster-day. He was, 
 moreover, of an easy, generous, and unsuspicious 
 nature. 
 
 On the previous evening, all the cattle which 
 could be readily got at, big and little, wild and tame, 
 were driven together by Martin Beck, Morgan
 
 A BRANDING DAY. 269 
 
 Brown, Dubbo, and several other of the nearest 
 stockmen ; for, on these occasions, they help each 
 other alternately. The whole herd were then 
 secured in the yard for the night. 
 
 In the morning, soon after sunrise, a three-log 
 fire was kindled just outside the stockyard fence, 
 contiguous to one of the strong round corner- 
 posts : the iron brands were laid in order before 
 it, and the long catching-rope and pole placed 
 ready, close at hand. Soon afterwards the ga- 
 thering for the day's work commenced : Lieuten- 
 ant Bracton made his appearance from the cot- 
 tage ; whereupon Martin, Morgan, and Dubbo 
 jumped down from off the rails where they had 
 been sitting, into the dusty yard. 
 
 " Who's going to rope?" asks Dubbo. The 
 Black takes the roping-stick, which is handed 
 to him through the rails by one of the subs 
 outside. 
 
 This roping-stick or catching-pole, as it is in- 
 discriminately called, is a thin sapling of the 
 best wood that can be procured from the bush 
 near at hand, twelve or fifteen feet in length, just 
 large enough at one end to be handily managed 
 by both hands, and having a small fork at the 
 other. Over the forked extremity the slip-noose
 
 270 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 of the catching-rope is hung, the rope itself being 
 brought loosely down along the pole toward the 
 person using it, with the far end trailing on the 
 ground. 
 
 Slowly, cautiously, and stealthily the black 
 creeps up, partly behind and joartly off to the 
 side of a young steer, holding in front the catch- 
 ing pole (its treacherous noose somewhat elevated) 
 with loose arms but firm grasp. The noose comes 
 level with the steer's head; then in a moment 
 down it goes over his head and round his neck, 
 close home to the shoulders; the pole drops 
 clear, leaving the rope only in the roper's hands; 
 the steer gives a rush, and the noose is tight. 
 The beast plunges round the yard, forcing his 
 way into the midst of the struggling multitude 
 whose turn is to come, and rushes to the length 
 of the rope, trying to break it. But all is in vain ; 
 the rope is now round the corner-post, half a 
 dozen strong men are at the end of it, and every 
 time he slackens it in his careerings, they take 
 in the slack and hold on till he slackens it again. 
 At length, between his own misdirected struggles, 
 and the urging of those around him, his head is 
 dragged hard up against the post. The leg-rope 
 is now passed round his hind legs ; which, in like
 
 BRANDING A STEER. 271 
 
 manner, are dragged up to one of the smaller 
 posts. "The brand! the brand!" shouts the 
 overseer, and instantly a man stationed for the 
 purpose hands the iron handle of the red-hot 
 instrument through the fence to the operator; 
 who, selecting the most flat place on the shoulder, 
 holds it firmly on, whilst a white smoke curls 
 upward into the air, filling it with a nauseous 
 odour ; the baffled and tortured animal moaning 
 and soughing with the pain. In a quarter of a 
 minute the instrument has done its work; for, 
 on withdrawing it, the skin is seen marked with 
 the initials of its owner, destitute of hair and 
 scorched. Then the leg-rope is first cautiously 
 unloosed; next the neck-rope is slackened, and 
 the stockmen falling back, the terrified and 
 smarting steer, becoming sensible that he is free 
 extricates his head, and hurries away into the 
 thickest of the herd. 
 
 But the black is determined to brand that 
 ferocious slate-coloured monster of seven years 
 old, that has been several times trying to chase 
 everybody out of the yard. He is buffalo-bred, 
 with a hump over his shoulders like a dromedary's; 
 his body almost as long as two beasts, deep- 
 chested, and short-legged for his breed, but as
 
 272 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 flat as two deal boards clapped together : a sour- 
 looking brute, neither fit for knife nor yoke. He 
 is the leader of the wildest mob, and turns and 
 faces the dogs when being driven into bounds. 
 He has long been a sharp irritant of the stock- 
 men's bile; and none the less so that his rough, 
 dark hide is yet clear of a brand : hitherto he has 
 defied conquest. 
 
 "You'll never get him, Martin," cries Morgan 
 Brown. 
 
 *' It's him or me for it now ;" says the black ; 
 " now I've taken a fancy to him. One of you 
 chaps that's doing nothing, run down to my hut 
 and fetch that black fellow's waddie : it's under 
 the berth." 
 
 The Australian waddie, it may be explained, for 
 the benefit of those who have never seen the 
 weapon, is virtually a club, whatever particular 
 form the taste of some individual warrior may 
 give it. It is not possible always to distinguish 
 the ivaddie from the nullah-nullah, on account of 
 the minute transitions by which they pass into 
 one another. Probably, however, the nullah- 
 nullah is of mace or axe form ; whilst the waddie 
 is strictly a stafi*. Its length is from twenty-one 
 inches to two feet, and it is invariably formed of
 
 THE AUSTRALIAN WADDIE. 273 
 
 the toughest, hardest, and most ponderous wood 
 that can be got ; indeed, some of these waddies 
 when taken into the hand give the idea of so much 
 metal. That now sent for by Martin was of full 
 length, tapering out slightly at first from the hand, 
 but at about three-fifths of its length swelling 
 suddenly into a bulk of three inches in diameter, 
 and then falling off as suddenly to an apex. 
 
 " That'll send the old Dustman (such was the 
 cant name the animal's colour had obtained him) 
 to sleep, Martin: only take care you don't miss 
 your mark," said the messenger, as he tossed the 
 waddie over to the Black ; who by this time had 
 got all ready again for roping. 
 
 " You'd better mind what you're after. Blue-- 
 skin," shouted Warraghi Bill, who just then rode 
 up to the side of the yard: " he's a rum customer: 
 he chased me three miles one afternoon." 
 
 "Hunt 'em all up, Dubbo," said the Black, 
 " and get him j ust a little way in the tail of 'em : 
 not too far ; but where I can reach him." 
 
 As he was directed, the Dubliner crowded the 
 mob in which the huge, sulky-looking animal 
 stood, over to one side of the yard ; and swept 
 in another little group at his heels. But no sooner 
 had he done so than the beast, suspecting the 
 
 VOL. I. T
 
 274 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 purpose or anno3^ed by the confinement, forced 
 himself face about, and holding up his head above 
 the rest for an instant, suddenly lowered it, and 
 pushed through and charged full at his adversary. 
 Dubbo, who saw what was coming, ran for the 
 fence, and was over the top just time enough to 
 save himself from being impaled by the long 
 horns, or jammed by the fiat and massive head of 
 the beast, as it came crash against one of the 
 middle rails, riving it nearly through. 
 
 " Better rails than you thought, my old boy," 
 shouted the Black ; " some of my putting up ! 
 Ay, come again ! " Down went the monster's 
 head, as he turned and saw this second antagonist, 
 and shut his eyes for another rush. " Come 
 on : let's see what you can do," yelled the black, 
 as he hastily fiung down the rope and pole, and 
 retained only the waddie, which he held a few 
 inches from the end, and balanced lightly some 
 inches above his shoulder, by an arm that looked 
 like a short section of a twisted cable. The furi- 
 ous beast burst forward with a suppressed bellow, 
 blowing up a cloud of dust ; and the Black, mak- 
 ing a short agile spring sideways, delivered the 
 knob of the waddie with seemingly slight exer- 
 tion, but unwavering aim, full on to the curl of the
 
 RUSSIAN." 275 
 
 forehead of the mountain giant. Down went the 
 huge brute on his side with a dead lumbering 
 sound, and lay wildly kicking at the feet of his 
 unequal foe. In an instant the waddie was thrown 
 aside, and the slip-noose tiglitened round the horns 
 of the stunned animal, and fast secured round the 
 corner post ; the whole strength of hands about 
 the yard being employed to take in the slack. 
 
 " Nobly done, Martin ! " exclaimed Lieutenant 
 Bracton, who had stood watching, as an old sea- 
 officer may be supposed to look on at such a feat, 
 to see whether his overseer's courage would hold 
 out. 
 
 " Oh! I'm used to these customers, sir," said 
 the black, vauntingly but respectfully. " Here,, 
 my hearties ! if he won't get up, w^e '11 finish him 
 where he is. Another rope, — the new green hide 
 one." Still, though Martin kicked the beast and 
 twisted his tail, he refused to move ; perhaps 
 dizzy with the blow. The hide rope being brought 
 was quickly passed and tightened round the root 
 of his spreading horns, and carried across and 
 made fast to one of the posts of the gate ; so that, 
 in the event of his now rising, he was restrained 
 by two ropes in opposite directions. In another 
 minute a rope was round his hind fetlocks, 
 
 t2
 
 276 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 and being passed forward between them was 
 carried up between his fore-legs, and round his 
 neck, and again back between his hind legs, 
 which were thus drawn as close up to his chest 
 as possible ; four of the hands holding on. As 
 many more as could be spared, with the service- 
 able addition of the master — who was equal to 
 any three in the yard, Martin excepted — finally 
 threw themselves, kneeling, on the beast's flank, 
 or held down his head. 
 
 " Now for the brand ! Hold fast all of you," 
 cried the black, and planting his foot on the upper 
 part of the fore-leg of the animal to hold the 
 muscles steady, he again applied the heated iron, 
 which singed the hair, scorched the hide, and 
 was withdrawn. Not a movement did the grim 
 but vanquished savage make ; not a groan did he 
 utter : but his dim, blue eyeball, bloodshot with 
 rage and pain, glared like lurid flame. " Now, 
 hold on, all of you ! " cried the black, " till I get 
 the rope ready for slipping, and this green hide- 
 rope off." The men and master retained their 
 places till the second catching rope was off, and 
 the leg-rope so far released that it would slip 
 free in the effort of the beast to rise. " No, he 's 
 not awake yet : lay down that leg-rope ! Easy,
 
 BRANDING A " RUSSIAN." 277 
 
 easy: be smart over the fence. There!" ex- 
 claimed the black, when they were all out, as he 
 stooped behind the old Russian's head and slack- 
 ened the first noose, expanding it so that it would 
 clear his horns ; " there! Now you may go.' 
 And no longer needing to be any more than a 
 spectator, he startled the animal by a dab in the 
 face with his broad-leafed straw-hat, and before 
 the beast could spring to his feet was up on the 
 top of one of the posts. For one instant after he 
 regained his feet, the infuriated animal looked 
 round ; and then at one wild bound cleared the 
 fence at the lower end. Loud were the shouts 
 that followed him, and fierce the bay of the pack 
 at his heels ; but only faster and fiercer flew 
 the enormous brute towards the hills ; whilst 
 numbers of his comrades left behind in the yard, 
 and no longer restrained by the presence of 
 men amonsrst them, crowded to the side from 
 which he had escaped, seeking an outlet to follow 
 him. 
 
 Much in the same way proceeded the branding 
 throughout the day ; but no more beasts so for- 
 midable as the last had to be dealt with. About 
 four o'clock in the afternoon, the overseer, after 
 going through the herd, pronounced that all
 
 278 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 which needed it were branded; the common hands 
 then strolled off one by one to their huts, and 
 Lieutenant Bracton walked home to the cottage. 
 Martin, Morgan, Dubbo, and Warraghi alone 
 remained in the yard. 
 
 " Why did you leave that black and white calf, 
 Blueskin?" inquired Dubbo. 
 
 "Can't you guess?" asked Morgan, laughing: 
 forgetting that Warraghi was not high in Mar- 
 tin's estimation as to trustiness ; " that 's an MB 
 you know." 
 
 Martin made a sign to the speaker, but it was 
 too late. " Here," continued Morgan, with a 
 view to atone for his inadvertency, — *'we can 
 brand her without the catching-rope; you fetch 
 the brand, Martin, while Warraghi, Dubbo and 
 I '11 catch her and throw her, against you come 
 back." 
 
 Martin instantly perceived that this was a stra- 
 tagem to make Warraghi a participator in the 
 felonious act, and thus secure his secrecy once for 
 all, and he hastened readily off to his hut for the 
 brand ; whilst Warraghi, thus appealed to, had 
 no alternative but to concur, or by refusing pro- 
 claim himself a ' square' man, and be sent to 
 Coventry by all the stockmen in the district.
 
 DANGER OF DISCOVERY. 279 
 
 The calf was soon caught and thrown; and a 
 few seconds sufficed to heat the brand sufficiently 
 for so young a beast. 
 
 At the instant after Dubbo had handed the 
 heated brand through the fence, the Welshman 
 walked up to his side; and placing his arms on 
 one of the rails looked quietly on, saying nothing. 
 Dubbo * a-hem'd ! ' again and again ; but the 
 three who were engaged with the calf were too 
 closely occupied to notice the intended intimation. 
 To have given any more intelligible token would 
 have only drawn the Welshman's notice to what 
 was going on, more effectually than it might be 
 already; so Dubbo could do no more. The brand- 
 ing over, the three stood back, and the little, 
 animal sprang up and ran bleating to its 
 mother. 
 
 Then for the first time Martin, Morgan, and 
 Warraghi observed the Welshman to have been a 
 looker-on. For an instant they all stood con- 
 founded ; but the Welshman broke silence, speak- 
 ing very civilly : for though a bullock-driver is a 
 supreme and irresponsible authority on the road, 
 he is nobody at the stockyard. 
 
 " That old brindled bullock of mine, lads ; she 
 is very poor : her bones is almost come through
 
 280 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 her skin. Get her out of the yard as quick as you 
 can ; you know she have had nothing to eat and 
 have not been to water since last night." 
 
 " It shall be done, John," quickly repliedDubbo, 
 in a most courteous and flattering tone ; shrewdly 
 apprehending that the Welshman, somehow or 
 other, did not understand what had been going on 
 before his very eyes. And on his moving quickly 
 towards the slip rails, and taking them down, 
 Martin and his coadjutors inside the yard imme- 
 diately drove out the whole mob ; at once con- 
 ceiving that the best thing now was to get the 
 stolen calf oflp into the bush as speedily as possible. 
 As regarded the Welshman, it was just as 
 Dubbo had imagined. Hearing from Warraghi, 
 who passed his station that morning, that the 
 cattle were in for muster ever since the night 
 before, John Thomas had handed over his sheep 
 to his hutkeeper (though this was quite contrary 
 to rule), and had come partly to see if Martin 
 had found and reclaimed the mob that used to be 
 about Coolarama Creek run, and partly to get 
 any of his own workers turned out that night, in 
 case the branding should not be completed in one 
 day, and the herd consequently kept yarded 
 another night. However, he had seen as he
 
 A COUNCIL AMONG THE STOCKMEN. 281 
 
 came along the mob of MBs, or most of them ; 
 which he supposed were Mrs. and Miss Brac- 
 tons, and in the black and white calf now branded 
 before his face he only saw another added to the 
 ladies' stock. 
 
 The Welshman's interpretation of the MBs, 
 however, was still entirely unsuspected by the 
 stockmen : yet so civilly had he spoken, that they 
 could not believe he was aware of its real signifi- 
 cation. It was several minutes after the initiated 
 four had got into Martin's hut and began to 
 smoke, before they could make out what to say 
 about it; even to one another. The first who 
 broke silence was Morgan Brown. 
 
 " Well, this is a rum go ; isn 't it ? " • 
 
 " Ay," responded Martin. 
 
 " If he noticed the brand of that single beast, 
 you 're in for the whole lot, Martin," continued 
 Morgan. 
 
 " How am I in for the whole lot ? " retorted the 
 black ; sneeringly emphasizing the word " whole." 
 
 " Well, all I mean to say is, somebody or other 
 is in for all with the same brand." 
 
 " I don't believe, " ^ggested Dubbo, " he saw 
 what brand it was." 
 
 "I wouldn't trust him for that: he's wider
 
 282 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 awake than he lets on to be," replied Morgan. 
 "There 's but one thing to be done, Martin ; and 
 done it must be if we don't want to be done 
 ourselves. That calf must be ' put on one side.' 
 Dubbo and Warraghi can run all the other 
 MBs off towards their stations as they go home 
 — they lie just in their way — and keep 'em out 
 of sight till you see whether there 's anything up : 
 and you and I must go and single off that calf 
 and put it out of the way." 
 
 It was unanimously agreed that this was the 
 most prudent plan. One of Martin's partisans at 
 the big hut was consequently instructed (though 
 without telling him the reason) to keep a sharp 
 look out whether John Thomas went to the cot- 
 tage, and what sort of communication, if any, he 
 had with the family. Dubbo and Warraghi, 
 having had their tea and lit their pipes, saddled 
 and rode off to manage their part of the business ; 
 and presently afterwards the overseer and Morgan 
 Brown also mounted and departed. 
 
 The dusk of evening had now set in, and the 
 weather changed from sultry heat to a fast 
 drizzling rain. The grass was already saturated 
 with wet, and the ground began to get plashy 
 and greasy under the horses' feet. The herd,
 
 THE STOLExN CALF. 283 
 
 hungry from their fast, were grazing greedily 
 along in straggling groups down the flat, half a 
 mile below : some down in the creek, the better 
 to get at the rank feed on its edge ; others in the 
 middle of the flat, and a few right over on the 
 better grass growing in the moist ground that 
 had the drainage from the opposite range. With 
 as little noise as possible, to avoid attracting 
 notice, Martin and Morgan gathered all the herd 
 together, and made the best of their way with 
 them for a couple of miles onward toward the 
 river. "Now," said Morgan, *' we'll single out 
 the calf and her mother, and run 'em up this easy 
 slope on to the top, where there's a creek that 
 runs down about three miles to a hollow of rocks * 
 that '11 be the place. They '11 drive well down the 
 creek." On receiving Martin's assent, he rode 
 over with his own dog, a strong knowing colley, 
 to the wing where the cow and calf were moving 
 along, and pointed out the cow to him. " There, 
 Tallboy ! fetch her out. There, there ! not that 
 one : — there, the bla^k cow : good fellow ! turn 
 her again ! put her away." The rest of the herd 
 scampered off at full speed, and the cow stood 
 at bay with her calf at her side, unable to make 
 her escape. The other cattle now out of the way,
 
 284 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 Martin let the rest of the dogs fall on, and the 
 cow with her terrified calf took the only way 
 left open, and bolted straight forward for the 
 range ; on reaching it, the well-trained dogs, still 
 at her heels, spread round on either side, leaving, 
 her no other course than to face up the-easy slope 
 of the range to the top ; whence the animal sped 
 forward at a running pace down the creek to the 
 rock-girt hollow. It was but a few acres in 
 extent, quite flat and treeless, swampy in the 
 middle, and covered with rank growing rushes, 
 with here and there a broken line of bunches of 
 flags marking the wettest part. At the further 
 end of the oval was a gap in the rocky barrier, 
 where the waters poured into it by the creek 
 found an outlet; but so filled was this channel 
 with huge blocks of stone, rounded by the wear 
 of the waters and slippery with wet moss, that 
 there was no possibility of the cow carrying 
 her calf through it. Towards it, however, she 
 plunged, followed by the horsemen and dogs, 
 through the soft ground; the heavier animals 
 sometimes sinking half leg deep: but at the 
 stone-blocked gap her flight was at an end, and 
 she turned and faced her pursuers, the calf seek- 
 ing protection beneath her belly. " Now, pin
 
 " PUTTING A CALF OUT OF THE WAY." 285 
 
 her ! " shouted the stockman to the farm bulldog. 
 — *' No ! no ! Crabb ; not the young one, the 
 old woman. That's the boy ! " Creeping almost 
 on his face close up to the cow's nose, Crabb had 
 made one " grab," and got hold of the poor 
 animal by the cartilage between the nostrils, and 
 thus held her motionless; for the agony of a 
 dog's bite on this sensitive part of horned cattle 
 is such, that, when thus seized, they frequently 
 submit and remain motionless, rather than aggra- 
 vate the torture by a struggle. The hunters, 
 jumping off their horses, quickly removed the 
 calf, bleating and bounding, from the shelter of its 
 mother ; and it was so exhausted by its long run 
 that the two could easily hold it. The cow, how- 
 ever, in spite of her suffering, was no sooner 
 deprived of her calf, and excited by its cries, than 
 she tossed her head wildly aloft to throw off the 
 dog; but the fierce bulldog, true to his instinct, 
 held fast, though surged back violently against 
 the ground. " Put all the dogs on the cursed brute, 
 Martin ; she '11 be loose directly, and '11 spike one 
 of us," growled Morgan, who now alone had hold 
 of the calf, in stifled tones. 
 
 " I '11 be shot if I like," replied the black : " it's 
 a precious cowardly job, this."
 
 286 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 " Hey ! hey ! sowl her, boys ! " roared Morgan : 
 and on went the whole pack, seizing the poor 
 beast by the ears, nose, and even ey,elids. Morgan 
 threw his leg over the calf at a little behind the 
 shoulders, and seizing one of its budding horns 
 with his right hand and its under jaw with his 
 left, he suddenly gave the nose one fierce wrench 
 round upwards, and it lay dead at his feet : in a 
 minute his knife was out, and the bit of hide 
 which had been so lately scorched by the brand 
 was flayed off and in his pocket. The confede- 
 rates, now calling off the dogs, jumped once 
 more into their saddles, soaked and dripping 
 with the rain, and made the best of their way 
 each to his home, leaving the poor cow to starve 
 and moan through the wet and gusty night over 
 her lifeless calf. 
 
 " I '11 go down to-morrow, Blueskin, and burn 
 the carcass. It won't do to let it stop there," 
 said Morgan before they separated. Both felt 
 glad that so much of security at least had been 
 achieved. 
 
 In proportion to the cowardice in man, is the 
 amount of cruelty he may be tempted to perpe- 
 trate in the endeavour to escape a threatening 
 danger. Morgan Brown was a coward at all
 
 COWARDICE AND CRUELTY. 287 
 
 points; personal danger terrified liim no less 
 than the endangerment of his circumstances, po- 
 sition, and desires : the black, on the contrary, 
 was sound to the core in all matters of physical 
 peril, though infinitely more alive than even 
 Morgan to anything threatening his reputation, 
 influence, and possessions. Morgan lived jollily 
 on through all dangers, except when something 
 brought them to his recollection, and awoke his 
 fears : Martin lived in a perpetual secret con- 
 sciousness of his jeopardy ; his terror of detection 
 was alleviated by no forgetfulness ; and his ma- 
 lignity toward the Welshman was as continuous 
 and unwavering as his apprehensions for himself 
 were acute. He had no pity for him, though he 
 revolted against the cruelty which Morgan made 
 so little of towards the dumb animals. 
 
 From the time of this occurrence, the black 
 began to feel that there was an urgency in the 
 danger which he had not considered before. He 
 now became sensible of the fact that, besides the 
 actual probable danger, there was yet another, — 
 the possible : a thousand unforeseen accidents 
 might occur, any one of which would ensure his 
 detection ; and his restless and energetic mind 
 began unconsciously to ponder what could be
 
 288 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 done to break up the array of circumstances 
 around him, and reconstruct them to his own 
 advantage. In this temper, he needed but little 
 urging from Morgan to proceed to summary and 
 strenuous measures for getting rid of the Welsh- 
 man. That intellectual intuition which belongs 
 equally to vicious and virtuous passion had 
 guided Morgan, before he had left Martin five 
 minutes on the evening of the branding-day, to 
 the only expedient available to avert his danger ; 
 which he felt was such that it was narrowing in 
 upon him silently every day. "Out of this part 
 the Welshman must go," said Morgan to himself, 
 "and this is the time. Now he's shepherding, 
 there 's a chance to trap him that there '11 never 
 be again." It was some time before he could 
 nerve himself to break it to Martin ; but at length 
 he did. 
 
 "Blueskin, how is it to be? Are we to get 
 lagged 1 " 
 
 "You know best, I suppose," replied Martin; 
 " not yet exactly prepared what to determine 
 on." 
 
 " Is the Welshman to stop here, and ' nose ' 
 all, or is he not ? There, that 's the point." 
 
 " Can you get Captain Bracton to let him go ?
 
 A PLOT. 289 
 
 or get liiin to go, if Captain Bracton is willing to 
 let him ? " 
 
 " Both." 
 
 " You can ! I wish you'd tell me how." 
 
 " If Master John Hurley sends him, I suppose 
 he '11 go, won't he ? That is, provided a Queen's 
 messenger goes with him." 
 
 " Ay ! but how '11 you persuade Master John 
 to do this ? " 
 
 "I suppose, if Captain Bracton lets him go, 
 Mr. Hurley is n't so much in love with him but 
 what he '11 send him : that is, you know, with a 
 good reason." 
 
 " Well ! but how ? — how 1 You 've either got 
 something very deep to come, Brown, or else* 
 you're a precious flat." 
 
 " Give his sheep the scab ; and when they've 
 got it well out, tell him of some of his bullocks 
 being on the Government road ; and, my word, 
 he '11 break the Act directly." 
 
 The Black saw in an instant that Morgan had 
 indeed suggested a feasible project. Had he 
 happened to think of it first himself, it would 
 have appeared but little objectionable ; but sug- 
 gested by another, it staggered him for an instant. 
 
 A colonial regulation, prohibiting infected sheep 
 
 VOL. I. IJ
 
 290 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 from travelling on the public roads during certain 
 months was in force : it would be an easy thing 
 to entrap the unsuspicious and obstinate Welsh- 
 man into a violation of it ; and the regulation was 
 considered so important by both settlers and ma- 
 gistrates, that an offender would have little chance 
 of escape if guilty of a breach of it. 
 
 *' Well," said Martin at last, " I suppose that 
 must be it. And it serves him right. He knows 
 as much about me as I hnoio myself — does he ? " 
 
 " Ay," replied Morgan ; " that was the very 
 word he said," 
 
 " What business has he to mind me? Oh, I 
 hadn't forgot it, Morgan, I was only waiting for 
 the chance. This will do I think : I didn't think 
 you'd got such a gift, old man. And now how 
 can it be managed?" 
 
 " Why, out beyond me about twenty miles, 
 there is a station where the sheep have got the 
 scab bad : very bad indeed ; and the master is 
 a regular screv/ — half-starves the Government 
 hands. I know one fellow that's got a flock 
 next us: he's half a natural, and looks as if a 
 good gust of wind would blow him to pieces — a 
 proper fat Jack of the bone-liouse: but that's the 
 lad that knows how to eat. Now, I'll just ride
 
 A PLOT. 291 
 
 over and gammon him that I want a feed at his 
 hut, just in the end of the week when his rations 
 are all gone; and when he says it's empty bags, 
 I'll condole with him, and tell him that if he'll 
 feed his sheep over to my place, I '11 give him a 
 good lump of beef. He's as good as old cheese 
 to come, and then let one of your chaps tell the 
 Welshman some of his bullocks are lying in the 
 creek about my hut; and there he'll come driving- 
 over red-hot the next morning, dogging his sheep 
 along as if they were kangaroos, and run slap 
 into the scabby flock. Will that work? 
 
 " Yes, well." 
 
 " It's to be so, then?" 
 
 " I don't care," said the black; " if it will do. 
 for you, it will do for me : he's brought it all on 
 himself. And as for Captain Bracton, I've done 
 everything to make a good farm for him that any 
 overseer could do : but I 'm getting sick of it, 
 Morgan." 
 
 In the course of a few days Morgan Brown 
 was as good as his word. He had three of the 
 Welshman's bullocks in the creek above the 
 Coolarama Creek hut; and he had the diseased 
 flock camped, in the heat of noon, under the 
 trees behind the hut ; so that John Thomas, when 
 
 u2
 
 292 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 he came for his bullocks, driving his sheep over 
 the hill-top, should run unawares into the midst 
 of them. The consequence would be that the 
 mingled flocks must be run into the stockyard 
 and drafted by hand ; which is done by catching 
 all the sheep of the smallest flock and putting them 
 outside, whilst the other flock is left untouched 
 within. It thus involved a couple of hours of 
 the closest and most contaminating contact. 
 
 The Welshman's consternation at this occur- 
 rence was so intense, that he thought no more of 
 his bullocks, but drove back to his run in head- 
 long haste, immediately he had got the diseased 
 sheep draughted away from his own. Under 
 such circumstances shepherds are sure to keep 
 their own counsel; Morgan's hutkeeper was a 
 fellow-countryman of John Thomas's, and there- 
 fore equally sure to be silent upon the subject. 
 Morgan, whilst he really held his tongue for his 
 own purposes, took advantage of his promise 
 of silence to intimate to the Welshman that one 
 good turn deserved another. 
 
 Some little time elapsed, as usual, before the 
 virulent and contagious disease began to manifest 
 itself: an interval full of remorseful anxiety to 
 John Thomas. Yet so inveterate was the self-
 
 THE SCAB IN SHEEP. '293 
 
 will of his character, that these painful feelings 
 effected no change in his habits : wherever he 
 could hear of one of his team having strayed, 
 thither he followed with his flock, and sought it. 
 
 At length he could see one and another of the 
 sheep, when the heat of the day came on, stand- 
 ing rubbing against trees ; then, after a few days 
 more, numbers were to be seen thus occupied at 
 the same time. Martin and Morgan occasionally 
 rode across his run ; and soon discerned how suc- 
 cessful had been their base expedient. The 
 Welshman caught one and another of the flock 
 that exhibited signs of the disease, before turning 
 out in the morning ; and there surely enough it 
 was, plainly marked by a crimson flush upon th« 
 skin. Presently the animals began to leave tufts 
 of the fleece behind them on any rough surface 
 against which they had rubbed : not mere locks 
 of shed wool, but fragments of their coat itself 
 fallen out by the roots. And many, to the prac- 
 tised eye, exhibited the patch of bald skin with a 
 bit of the fleece displaced by the inflammatory 
 action, hanging down broad as a man's hand. 
 One day the Welshman pointed out the conse- 
 quences of his journey to the stockman, bitterly 
 lamenting the disaster: but Morgan only gave
 
 294 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 him the cold comfort that the best thing he could 
 now do, was to make the diseased state of his 
 flock known to the overseer or master as quickly 
 as he could. 
 
 " Do you mean to tell 'em where the sheep 
 got it, Taffy?" asked Brown, sarcastically: well 
 knowing that the unlucky man meant to do 
 nothing of the sort, and implying that, as he 
 could tell, therefore he had him in his power. 
 
 Meantime, the other flock at the station had 
 contracted the disorder, from using the same run, 
 or putting their heads and necks into contact 
 with each other throuo;h the slio:ht fence of 
 boughs. And, for some unexplained reason, the 
 overseer, before the appearance of the disease in 
 all its virulence in the Welshman's flock, had 
 sent one flock to a fresh station and brought an- 
 other into its place. 
 
 Scarcely had John Thomas given information 
 to the overseer of the condition in which he found 
 his flock, when the other shepherd, who had been 
 shifted from the station where tliey were, added 
 the tidings that his sheep also were exhibiting 
 signs of infection. A like report was given in 
 from the shepherd who had been last stationed 
 with the Welshman ; and finally, the fourth flock,
 
 WHOLESALE DESTRUCTION. 295 
 
 which had been brought into contiguity with the 
 second, was added to the ruinous catalogue. 
 
 Meantime, every possible effort was apparently 
 made by the overseer to stay the progress of the 
 mischief: complete separation of the sound from 
 unsound flocks was promptly effected; and re- 
 medial measures were seemingly applied ; but all 
 to no purpose. 
 
 First of all, the sheep began to drop two or 
 three a day ; then the rate went on to six or 
 seven : and the numbers daily increased as the 
 whole four flocks contributed their quota of deaths 
 together; in short, they died in such numbers, 
 and in such a corrupt state, that the usual custom 
 of skinning and preserving the skin for the tan* 
 ner, was no longer thought of. The dogs, gorged 
 to the utmost, could hardly be made to follow the 
 flocks by day or watch them in the yards by night ; 
 every water-hole was polluted by one or more 
 putrid carcasses, and the very air of the runs 
 was tainted by the intolerable stench. Bush- 
 dogs were to be seen prowling solitary along, 
 and carrion-birds flocked from all the surround- 
 ing parts, hopping about in wanton companies 
 chattering and sated, in the full blaze of noon. 
 It became necessary to resort to extraordinary
 
 296 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 means to subdue the nuisance by burning tlie car- 
 casses ; and large many-logged fires were then to 
 be seen blazing and cracking in all: directions, on 
 which the putrid sheep were piled and consumed, 
 emitting a loathsome smoke that hung about 
 among the trees like a pestilential fog ; whilst in 
 other spots, where the fires had burnt out, there 
 were great black patches of charcoal and white 
 calcined bones. Everybody who had had sheep 
 in the vicinity had removed them, and a cordon 
 of solitude was drawn round the place of deso- 
 lation. 
 
 The feelings of the several individuals of the 
 family, whose property and hold upon social rank 
 was undergoing this cruel shock, were as various 
 on the occasion as their characters were diverse. 
 Although the Welshman would not acknowledge 
 an acquaintance with the origin of the evil, the 
 mere circumstance of his flock being first diseased 
 inculpated him. Marianna refused to believe him 
 culpable without proof; but neither her father, 
 her mother, nor her cousin, could resist the fact 
 itself, and the few but telling comments of Martin. 
 Lieutenant Bracton and his wife felt the catas- 
 trophe keenly, from its bearing on their children. 
 Katharine's sorrow arose almost wholly from
 
 STRINGENT MEASURES NECESSARY. 297 
 
 sympathy with her beloved relatives : she grieved 
 that so calamitous an occurrence should becloud 
 their prospects, till she almost lost sight of the 
 cloud it threw upon her own. Marianna almost 
 forgot it was a calamity, in her solicitude that 
 it might not turn out to have been occasioned 
 by the Welshman ; whose simplicity, readiness to 
 serve her, and partial dependence upon her pro- 
 tection, had rendered him so great a favourite. 
 And as it happened, it suited no one of all those 
 who knew the cause of the mischief, to state what 
 they knew on the subject. 
 
 Meantime, the advice which was sure to be 
 given to Lieutenant Bracton under the circum- 
 stances, by all his acquaintances out of as well a$ 
 in the magistracy, was tendered plentifully. He 
 was told that shepherds, entrusted as they are 
 with such an amount of property, of a kind so 
 easily injured, must positively be restrained from 
 following their own thoughtless impulses, and 
 when placed on a clean run must be made to keep 
 upon it. He was also told that old hands always 
 play on the new settler, and that the only 
 remedy was in stringent measures ; and he was 
 counselled at once to make it known to his shep- 
 herds, that if, after the caution, any one of them
 
 298 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 was detected off his run, the utmost penalty dic- 
 tated by the law would be enforced. 
 
 His duty became clearer to the lieutenant every 
 day, as the doleful report of his losses came in to 
 him. His principle of government had always 
 been to allow his men the utmost immunity that 
 could be tolerated ; but to hold irrevocable the 
 threat with which he limited license. And when 
 he at length felt it necessary to act on the coun- 
 sels given him, he explained this in the most 
 unmistakeable terms to his men. 
 
 The whole period seemed to be one destined to 
 painful recollections, purposely adapted, on the 
 one hand, to rouse energy, or, on the other, to 
 prove the little knot of colonists unequal to their 
 enterprise, and force them back to a position 
 requiring less fortitude, and less strenuous exer- 
 tion. A quantity of the cattle having been 
 drafted off from the home herd, had been sent to 
 Manaroo, under the charge of a new stock- 
 keeper, with instructions to occupy a tract of 
 land some few miles from Reuben Kable's. 
 With the stock-keeper went also a hut-keeper 
 and a bullock-driver, with a team adapted for the 
 earliest services of such a station ; the hut- 
 keeper was quite a new hand.
 
 THE LOST HUT-KEEPER. 299 
 
 A few mornings after the arrival of the party 
 at their destination, the hut-keeper was requested 
 by the bullock-driver (who happened to fancy he 
 had just then something else to do), to fetch in 
 the working cattle for him. It was one of those 
 little acts of mutual accommodation which are 
 always freely performed amongst working hands 
 in the colony , and the hut-keeper started. 
 
 It had become the winter of the year ; and in 
 these regions, differently from those adjacent to 
 the north of Sydney, very heavy snows occasion- 
 ally fall. When the poor fellow went out on his 
 errand, however, no change of weather was con- 
 templated, otherwise he would not have been 
 sent. More than one or two terrible tales o£ 
 bewilderment and starvation on these vast plains 
 were already current ; and, if recollected in con- 
 nection with the dulness of the morning, would 
 probably have prevented him from being exposed 
 to a danger which the most practised and most 
 cautious bushmen, with all their tact, often barely 
 evade. 
 
 However, forth he went (and it was some 
 solace to them afterwards to recollect it), " read- 
 ing his book." He was a Romanist, and much 
 given to perusing some little devotional books he
 
 300 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 possessed, the first thing in the morning and 
 the last at night. It is but too true, however 
 painful to be acknowledged, that no one is ever 
 seen recognising by morning or evening prayer 
 the existence and dominion of the Divine Being 
 in these bush huts. The evil is so overwhelming 
 in proportion to the good, that if in any single 
 mind the latter haply succeeds in effecting a 
 feeble perpetuation of itself, it is universally 
 within the mind only ; all outward manifestations 
 vanish. And in all probability, these morning 
 and evening studies of the hut-keeper were really 
 outward forms of the transition state. 
 
 The bullocks ought to have been about three 
 miles away upon, or on one of the sides of, a 
 fine sweep of hill. From that spot and from all 
 the open plain lying betwixt it and the hut^ 
 the hut, which was on a rising ground also, 
 was clearly visible in ordinary states of the 
 weather. 
 
 Indeed, no one but a '* new chum'' could have 
 missed the course from the feeding ground to the 
 hut, even in thick weather, for there was on each 
 side of it a line of low hill. The traveller along 
 the scope of plain, having once fixed its grand 
 natural feature in his mind, had nothing to do
 
 MANAROO SNOW-STORM. 301 
 
 but resolutely abstain from rising a hill, and he 
 must make the hut. 
 
 Soon after the hapless man set forth, a light 
 sprinkling of snow began to fall ; but it was so 
 little, and the air as yet so still, that it suggested 
 no uneasy apprehensions about him. As he 
 could have his breakfast after they were gone out 
 on their several duties, the two other men, leav- 
 ing his quart pot of tea at the fire, sat down and 
 had their own breakfast. On rising from it, 
 however, and opening the hut door, they observed 
 that the snow was coming down so rapidly and 
 in such large flakes, that the ground was already 
 covered two or three inches deep, and nothing 
 could be seen at a couple of hundred yards 
 away. 
 
 Immediately struck with what might occur, 
 through the ignorance of their hut-mate of every- 
 thing connected with bushmanship, they both 
 hurried off in search of him, taking the middle 
 of the flat, at some distance from each other, 
 with an agreement that whichever of them met 
 with him should koo-eh. 
 
 As they drew near the spot where the bullocks 
 ought to have been, each \^ ith growing uneasiness 
 listened for the koo-eh of the other ; and so on,
 
 302 THE EMIGRANT FAMILY. 
 
 right up to the cattle themselves. The cattle 
 were where they had generally bedded, standing 
 apparently wondering they were not fetched in 
 yet. But there was no sign of the man ; no 
 tracks anywhere about on the new-fallen snow 
 save those of the bullocks themselves; and his 
 hut-mates now looked at each other in dismay 
 and painful anticipation of the catastrophe. 
 
 The wind grew more and more boisterous every 
 minute ; they crossed the broad, bleak top of the 
 hill in all dii'ections ; swept round the sides and 
 base ; shouted, met, looked at each other. The 
 stockman hurried home for his horse and the 
 whole of the dogs, whilst the bullock-driver 
 swept, in larger and larger circuits, round the 
 hill. The morning crept on to noon ; noon to 
 afternoon ; the snow accumulated deeper and 
 deeper upon the ground; other stations were 
 visited and other stockmen engaged in the 
 search : but night came, and the hapless man 
 was missing still. 
 
 After an almost sleepless night, they rose 
 again, and again traversed scores of miles of the 
 still snow-covered surface. And so that day 
 passed — ^and another, and another. And then 
 the search was given up ; and, so far as the
 
 THE REMAINS FOUND. 303 
 
 weather permitted, the ordinary business of the 
 station gone on with. 
 
 Several weeks elapsed, each day wearing 
 slowly out the melancholy impression; but yet 
 that impression was frequently renewed for a 
 time, as chance visitants from other stations 
 inquired, over the evening fire, whether they had 
 heard anything yet of their hut-keeper, and 
 speculated upon his fate. 
 
 At leno-th, when the snow had melted and the 
 finer weather came, and the gullies began to be 
 more traversed, he was found — or rather some 
 bones were found — partly in and partly out of a 
 stump-hole in the butt of a large old hollow trunk 
 of standing timber. The clothing he wore was of 
 the sort worn by the prisoners generally, and 
 therefore could indicate no identity; but within 
 the stump-hole there was his book, lying open on 
 its face. He had probably wandered till nature 
 was exhausted, and possibly found food for the 
 immortal mind long after the cravings of the 
 mortal part of humanity had ceased. 
 
 END OF VOL. I.
 
 London 
 
 Printed by Stewart and MtTKRAV, 
 
 Old Bailey.
 
 February 1849. 
 
 LIST OP 
 
 I. ,.. .... 
 
 Ki ir © ^ y iL ^^ 
 
 j RECENTLY PUBLISHED, and PREPARING FOR PUBLICATION, 
 
 BY 
 
 SMITH, ELDER, AND CO. 
 
 65^ CoRNHiLL, London. 
 
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 Published by Smith, Elder, and Co. 
 
 I Book of English EpitJiets, 
 
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 \ Or, the autobiography OF AN ATHEIST. 
 
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 Mirabeau : 
 
 A Life History. In Four Books. 
 In 2 vols, post 8vo. with Portraits, price 21s. cloth. 
 
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 ment concerning the history and character of Mirabeau, than the English 
 reader will find elsewhere."— British Quarterly Review. 
 
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 page."— Church of England Quarterly. 
 
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 attractive work : he occasionally manifests great power ; nay more, he has 
 rendered his work amusing."— Eclectic Review.
 
 New Works by Popular Authors, 
 
 I POPULAR NEW FICTIONS. 
 
 ^ '•* ^ \ 
 
 : THIRD EDITION OF JANE EYRE. \ 
 
 \ Jane Byre : an Autobiography. \ 
 
 ; By CURRER BELL. \ 
 
 :. 3d Edition, with Preface by the Author, 3 vols, post 8vo. £1. lis. 6d. cloth. ; 
 
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 !; represented the strongest passion and the strongest principle, admirably [ 
 
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 \ and vigorous understanding-. "—Blackwood's Magazine. i 
 
 ^ " 'Jane Eyre' is a novel of remarkable power and beauty, impressing ns with > 
 
 \ the belief that many of the scenes, as well as the feelings described, are real. \ 
 
 \ The story is one of woman's trials ; a long and terrible struggle and at last the ^ 
 
 ^ final triumph of principle over passion."— Dublin University Magazine. ; 
 
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 s and the style is resolute, straightforward, and to the purpose. The object " 
 
 ^ and moral of the work are excel]ent."—ExAMiNER. ' 
 
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 J, character and power of delineating it. picturesqueness, passion, and know- \ 
 <, ledge of life. Reality— deep, significant reality— is the characteristic of this s 
 
 < book."— Eraser's Magazine. \ 
 
 " The most extraordinary production that has issued from the press for 
 years. We know no author who possesses such power as is exhil)ited in these 
 three volumes. From the first pr-^e to the last it is stamped with vitality." 
 
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 " One of the most powerful domestic romances which have been published' 
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 vous diction, and concentrated interest. It is a book with a great heart in 
 it."— Atlas. 
 
 " Of all the novels we have read for years, this is the most striking, and, 
 we may add, the most interesting. Its style, as well as its characters, are 
 unhackneyed, perfectly fresh, and life-like. It is thoroughly English." 
 
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 " The reading of such a book as this is a healthful exercise. "^~ Tablet. 
 " Original, vigorous, edifying, and absorbingly interesting." 
 
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 "An extraordinary book of its kind, and as truly of a most noble purpose." 
 
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 " The book displays considerable skill in the plan, and great power." 
 
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 " A verj' remarkable book."— Quarterly Review.
 
 Published by Smitli, Elder, and Co. 
 
 \ Trevethlan ; 
 
 \ A Cornish Story. 
 
 \ By WILLIAM DAVY WATSON, Esq. 
 
 \ Barrister- at-Law. 
 
 j In 3 vols, post 8vo. price £1. lis. 6d. cloth. 
 
 <; " Trevethlan is a novel which fascinates the reader, and the memory of 
 \ which he will not wiUingly let die."— Morning Chronicle. 
 
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 and the reality of life. The characters are well drawn and preserved 
 throug^hout, and the interest never droops."— Britannia. 
 
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 Bose^ Blanche^ and Violet. 
 
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 Author of "Ranthorpe," " A Biographical History of Philosophy," &c. 
 
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 \ living world."— Morning Chronicle. 
 
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 '^ trials of Blanche, and the infatuation of Cecil, are depicted with much vivid- 
 { ness and natural passion."— Athen^um. 
 
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 \ delay."— Dublin University Magazine. 
 
 \ " Mr. Lewes takes a high position among our novelists : he possesses no 
 5 ordinary insight into the human heart."— Fraser's Magazine.
 
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 Beauchamp ; 
 
 Or, the error. ^ | 
 
 By G. p. R. JAMES, Esq. \ 
 
 la 3 vols, post 8vo. price £1. lis. 6d. ^ 
 
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 5. I 
 
 Adventures of an Aide-de-Camp } \ 
 
 Or, a campaign in CALABRIA. \ 
 
 By JAMES GEANT, Esq. | 
 
 Author of "The Romance of War; or, the Highlanders in Spain." 
 3 vols, post 8vo. price £1. lis. 6d. cloth. 
 
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 \ of the times. The political events and feelings of the time are not unduly 
 
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 \ one great merit— it is free from party feeling." — Britannia. 
 
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 \ of life and stirring interest, and as instructive as it is entertaining." 
 
 \ John Bull.
 
 Published by Smith, Elder, and Co. 
 
 \ choice of historical subject is timely, and its treatment very skilful : it is the 
 
 7. 
 
 Sir Theodore Broiighton ; 
 
 Or, laurel water. 
 
 By G. p. R. JAMES, Esq. j 
 
 In 3 vols, post 8vo. price £l. lis. 6d. \ 
 
 " * Sir Theodore Broughton' is founded upon the case of Donellan, who was \ 
 
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 A Tale. 
 
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 with a just delineation of social life and manners."— Britannia. 
 
 9. 
 
 Russell: 
 
 A Tale of the Reign of Charles II. 
 
 By G. p. B. JAMES, Esq. 
 
 In 2 vols, post 8vo. price £1. lis. 6d. 
 
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 are so well amalgamated ; the interest is sustained without straining. The 
 
 essence of history connected with romance."— Spectator.
 
 Tales of the Colonies ; 
 
 Or, the adventures or AN EMIGRANT. 
 
 By CHARLES ROWCROET, Esq. 
 
 A late Colonial Magistrate. 
 
 5tli Edition, in fcp. 8vo. price 6s. cloth. 
 
 " * Tales of the Colonies' is an able and interestinof book. The author has 
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 and it is scarcely, if at all, inferior to that extraordinary history." 
 
 John Bull. 
 
 " The book is manifestly a mixture of fact and fiction, yet it gives, we have 
 every reason to believe, a true picture of a settler's life in that country ; and 
 is thickly interspersed with genuine and useful information." 
 
 Chambers's Edinburgh Journal. 
 
 11. 
 
 SECOND SERIES OF TALES OE THE COLONIES. 
 
 The Bushranger 
 
 I VAN DIEMAN'S LAND. ' 
 
 \ By CHARLES ROWCROET, Esa. 
 
 ^ Author of "Tales of the Colonies." 
 
 ) . In 3 vols, post 8vo. price £1. lis. 6d. 
 
 ^ " These volumes have the same qualities that gained so much popularity for 
 
 \ the author's previous work, * Tales of the Colonies.' He has been compared 
 
 ; to De Foe, and the comparison is just." — Britannia. 
 
 < " The story contains all the merits of the ' Tales of the Colonies' as regards 
 
 ■ style, being simple and Crusoite, if we might use the term, in its narrative, "" 
 
 Poems, 
 
 By CURRER, ELLIS, and ACTON BELL. 
 1 vol. fcp. 8vo. price 4s. cloth. 
 
 Weekly Chronicle. \ 
 
 S \
 
 Publislied by Smitli, Elder, and Co. 11 
 
 MR. LEIGH HUNT'S RECENT WORKS. 
 
 \ 
 
 A Jar ofRoneyfrom Mount Hybla. \ 
 
 By LEIGH HUNT. \ 
 
 Illustrated by Richaud Doyle. \ 
 
 Square demy 8vo. in a novel and elegant binding, price 14s. \ 
 
 " A luxury of taste pervades the illustration, the printing, even the binding. 
 The jar is filled with delicate and noble fancies ; with genuine Christmas 
 associations of ' poetry, piety, revelry, superstition, story-telling, and 
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 chasing a theme from poet to poet, a luxuriance of quotation, which marks 
 the rambling prose papers of Mr. Hunt from the days of "The Indicator' 
 downwards. The cover itself is promising,"— Times. 
 
 " Full of penetrating remarks cleverly expressed. Addison's definition of 
 fine writing— thoughts natural but not obvious."— Spectator. 
 
 " A charming book; full of delicate fancies."— Morning Herald. • 
 
 " As a work suggestive of fine literature, pure morals, and good feeling, it 
 may take rank with the best productions of its class."— Obskrver. 
 
 II. 
 
 Men^ WomeUj and Books : 
 
 A Selection from his hithekto Uncollected Prose Writings. 
 
 By LEIGH HUNT. 
 
 la 2 vols, post 8vo. with a Portrait of the Author by Severn, 
 i price One Guinea, cloth. 
 
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 ^ compliment) is " The Indicator." Its papers have the same cordial mixture 
 
 \ of fact and imagination,"— Examiner. 
 
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 * sunshine— M>?« promote gay spirits— wi/i uphold liberal truths; blithely, yet 
 ^ earnestly. He is the Prince of Parlour-window writers."— AthenjEUM. 
 
 " A book for a parlour-window, for a summer's eve, for a warm fireside, for 
 a half-hour's leisure, for a whole day's luxury— in any and every possible 
 shape a charming companion."— Westminster Review^.
 
 n2 New Works by Popular Authors, ^ 
 
 \ SELECTIONS FROM THE ENGLISH POETS. 
 
 \ 1. Imagination and Fancy. 
 
 \ 2. Wit and Rumour, 
 
 \ By LEIGH HUNT. 
 
 \ Bound in cloth, with gilt edges, price 10s. 6d. each. \ 
 
 \ Each volume is complete in itself, and preceded hy an Essay illustrative \ 
 
 ^ of the qualities respectively exemplified in the selections. The best passages \ 
 
 \ are marked and commented upon, and each author is characterised. s 
 
 < " The desi2:n of this delightful series extends beyond a collection of eleg-ant ^ 
 \ extracts, while it combines the best features of such collections. The two \ 
 \ volumes already published are precisely the books one would wish to carry \ 
 ^ for companionship on a journey, or to have at hand when tired of work, or \ 
 ^ at a loss what to do tor want of it. They are selections of some of the best ^ 
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 ^ cate expositions and enforcements of their beauties. They are truly most \ 
 •. genial, agreeable, and social books."— Examiner. \ 
 \ " Each of them gives us the best passages of the best writers, in their \ 
 \ respective kinds, illustrated by one who will himself leave no mean remem- \ 
 \ brance to posterity, in the spirit of genial criticism, informed by a delicate \ 
 s faculty of discrimination. What more could literary epicures desire?" \ 
 \ Morning Chronicle. \ 
 \ " 'Wit and Humour' forms a pendant to ' Imagination and Fancy,' by the \ 
 \ same author. A like design is embodied in both works. The book is at once \ 
 > exhilarating and suggestive. It may charm frivolous minds into wisdom, \ 
 \ and austere ones into mirth." — Athenaeum. s 
 
 < " Books that every one who has a taste must have, and every one who has \ 
 X not should have in order to acquire one."— Jerrold's Magazine. \ 
 \_ " The very essence of the sunniest qualities from English poets." — Atlas. ^ 
 
 \ \ 
 
 \ The 3d Vol. of the Series will illustrate j 
 
 \ "ACTION AND PASSION/^ \ 
 
 I Madonna Pia ; \ 
 
 \ ' And other POEMS. \ 
 
 \ By JAMES GREGOR GRANT. ^ 
 
 s < 
 
 s s 
 
 \ With Frontispieces by W, Mulready, R.A. 2 vols, post 8vo. 15s. cloth, ^s
 
 Published by Smith, Elder, and Co. 13 ^^ 
 
 " Modern Painters.^^ 
 
 I By a graduate OE OXFORD. 
 
 \ Volume the First. 
 
 I Fourth Edition. In imperial 8vo. price 18s. cloth. 
 
 \ Volume the Second. 
 
 Second Edition. Imperial Svo. price 10s. 6d. cloth. 
 '. 
 
 > " A g'enerous and impassioned review of the works of living' painters. A 
 
 > hearty and earnest work, full of deep thought, and developiui? threat and 
 \ striking truths in art. It lays before us the deeply-studied reflections of a 
 I devout worshipper of nature— of one thoroughly imbued with the love of 
 \ truth."— British Quarterly Review. 
 
 \ " A very extraordinary and delightful book, full of truth and goodness, of 
 
 s power and beauty. This remarkal)le work contains more true philosophy, 
 
 s more information of a strictly scientific kind, more original thought and exact 
 
 \ observation of nature, more enlightened and serious enthusiasm, and more 
 
 I eloquent writing, than it would be easy to match, not merely in works of its 
 
 s own class, but in those of any class whatever."— North British Review. 
 
 ) " This work is the most valuable contribution towards a proper view of 
 
 > painting, its purpose and means, that has come within our knowledge." 
 
 J Foreign Quarterly Rkview. 
 
 5 " A work distinguished by an enlightened style of criticism, new to English 
 
 i readers, and by the profound observation of nature displayed by the author." 
 
 > Dublin Univek'sitv Magazine. • 
 I " One of the most remarkable works on art which has appeared in our 
 I time."— Edinburgh Review. 
 
 I 
 RESULTS OF ' \ 
 
 Astronomical Observations^ | 
 
 Made during the years 1834, 5, 6, 7, 8, at the Cape of Good Hope; \ 
 
 \ 
 
 Being the completion of a Telescopic Survey of the wliole Surface of the 
 visible Heavens, commenced in 1825. 
 
 By Sir JOHN HERSCHEL, Baiit. 
 
 .L. F.R.S.L. ATS'D E. HON. M.R.I. A. P.U.A.S. F.( 
 &C. &C. &C. 
 
 In 1 vol. royal 4to. with 18 Plates, price Four Guineas. 
 
 K.H. M.A. D.C.L. F.R.S.L. ATS'D E. HON. M.R.I. A. P.R.A.S. F.G.S. M.C.U.P.S. 
 &C. &C. &c.
 
 14 Publislled by Smith, Elder, and Co. 
 
 The Sailor'' s Horn-Book 
 
 IjK^ of STORMS: ^ 
 
 \ Being a Practical Exposition of the Theory of the Law of Storms, and ^ 
 \ its uses to Mariners of all' Classes in all Parts of the World. \ 
 
 ; SHEWN BY 
 
 ; TRANSPARENT STORM CARDS AND NUMEROUS LESSONS. 
 
 I By HENEY PIDDINGTON, Esq. 
 
 \ PRESIDENT OF MARINE COURTS OF INQUIRY, CALCUTTA. 
 
 I 1 volumei 8vo. price 10s. fid. with Charts and Storm Cards. 
 
 \ *' A valuable practical work. Mr. Piddin^ton deserves gfreat credit for the 
 
 \ care with which he has here collected, for the information of seamen, the 
 
 s most remarkable instances of circular storms in different parts of the world." 
 
 \ Nautical Magazine. 
 
 " An exceedingly useful manual on an important subjefct, in which are 
 
 \ given the results of all inquiries into the law of storms, and the deductions 
 
 ^ therefrom are so clearly stated as to show the mariner how to avoid storms, 
 
 > how best to manage in storms, and how to profit by storms. This volume \ 
 \ will be interesting to the meteorologist as well as the mariner." 
 
 s Westminster Review. j 
 
 \ "A valuable contribution to our knowledge of the subject, and very ere- \ 
 
 > ditable to the industry and judgment of Mr. Piddington." \ 
 .J United Service Magazine. ) 
 \ " The law of storms and the mode of evading them are very fully handled > 
 
 > by Mr. Piddington. ' The Sailor's Horn-Book' is written with a homely i 
 ;'; plainness, to adapt it to the comprehension of nautical men."— Spectator, i 
 
 \ " A valuable manual of the Law of Storms. We wish we could be sure I 
 
 \ that it would be in every ship in which English is r£ad."— Athen^um. | 
 
 THE RTSE, PROGRESS, AND PRESENT STATE OF 
 
 Colonial Wools r 
 
 Comprising those of Australia, Van Diemen's Laud, and New Zealand: 
 
 South Africa ; Bi'itish India ; Peru, Chile, La Plata, and 
 
 the United States of America : 
 
 With some Account of the Goat's Wool of Angora and India. 
 
 By THOMAS SOUTHEY. 
 
 1 vol. 8vo. price 12s. cloth.
 
 New Works by Popular iutliors, 15 
 
 The Practical Sugar Planter : 
 
 A complete Account of the Cultivation and Manufacture of the Sugar- 
 Cane, according to the latest and most improved processes ; 
 
 I Describing and comparing the different Systems pursued in the East and j 
 
 \ West Indies and the Straits of Malacca, and the relative i 
 
 \ Expenses and Advantages attendant upon each : ^ 
 
 i j 
 
 j Beinff the Result of Sixteen Years' actual Experience as a Sugar-Planter \ 
 
 \ in those Countries. \ 
 
 \ 
 
 \ By LEONAUD WRAY, Esq. | 
 
 1 vol. 8vo. with numerous Illustrations, price One Guinea. ^ 
 
 " 'The Practical Sugar Planter' is decidedly what its title imports ; it is a \ 
 
 \ most useful book, containing more condensed and solid general information \ 
 
 I than we have ever before found collected on the subject of which it treats, s 
 
 \ To the actual planter it will be found a most valuable work." • ;, 
 
 \ SiMMONDs' Colonial Magazine. ^ 
 
 \ " Mr. Wray's work is of commanding interest. He is perfectly impartial, ^ 
 
 \ and his book is adapted to become the standard work on sugar cultivation. ;; 
 
 \ It is full of practical details, and will be an excellent guide to planters." ;, 
 
 \ Economist. 
 
 \ X 
 
 \ " The book is overflowing with valuable information : it is at once instruc- ;. 
 
 < tiveand suggestive, and immeasurably the best practical work which has s 
 
 \ been written on the subject."— Atlas. \ 
 
 " Mr. Wray is well qualified to write on this subject; and it has been his ^ 
 
 pspecial object to introduce such improvements in the culture of the cane \^ 
 
 and manufacture of sugar as a long series of experiments demonstrated to be \ 
 judicious."— Athenaeum. 
 
 " Such works as these are the true friends of the planter. This work is 
 ably written, and there is that system in it which assures us its author is to 
 be depended on. We heartily recommend it to the attention of all West 
 India planters."— Weekly Chronicle. 
 
 "We cordially recommend this volume to the attention of those who are 
 in any way interested in the subject of which it treats."— Critic.
 
 \ 16 New Works published by Smith, Elder, and Co. 
 
 I The Novitiate ; 
 
 ;' Or, the JESUIT IN TRAINING. 
 
 Being a Year among the English Jesuits : a Personal Narrative. 
 
 By ANDREW STEINMETZ. \ 
 
 \ 2d Edition, with a Memoir and Portrait of the Author, in I vol. post 8vo. I 
 :> price 7s. 6d. bound in cloth. ] 
 
 \ *' This is a remarkable book It describes, with a welcome minuteness, I 
 
 ;'. the daily, nisrhtly, hourly occupations of the Jesuit Novitiates at Stonyluirst, 
 
 s their relia-'ous exercises'and manners, in private and together ; and depicts, 
 
 > with considerable acuteness and power, the conflicts of nn intelligent, sus- 
 
 < ceptible, honest purposed spirit, while passins^ tliroutrh such a process." 
 
 ^ British Quaktekly Review. 
 
 ( " A more remarkable work it has seldom been our fortune to peruse. Mr. 
 ', Steinmetz's book is most valuable; earnest and truthful in its tone, and ex- 
 '■: tremely interesting in its detail."— New Quarterly Review. 
 
 "If it be desirable to know what is that mode of training- by which the 
 ">, Jesuit system prepares its novices for their duties, this is the book to inform 
 ; us, for it is a chronicle of actual experience " — Britannia. 
 
 " The work has all the interest of a romance, and yet we do not believe that 
 any portion of it is fictitious."— John Bull. 
 
 I The Jesuit in the Family : 
 
 ;; A Tale. 
 
 i By ANDREW STEINMETZ. 
 
 In 1 vol. post 8vo. 9s. cloth. 
 
 *'A well-written and powerful novel, constructed for the development of 
 ;^ Jesuit practices, and to show the Jesuit in action. The interest in some parts 
 \ is intensely wrought up."— John Bull. 
 
 < " Remarkable for force of ideas and originality in style."— Britannia. 
 
 i — — 
 
 Sermons^ 
 
 Preached at the Foundling Hospital ; with others preached at St. 
 Stephen's, Walbrook. 
 
 By the Rev. GEORGE CROLY, LL.D. 
 
 In 1 vol. 8vo. price lOs. Gd. cloth. 
 
 "This volume is historical, as several sermons relate to the public occur- 
 rences of the day. Dr. Croly is one of those who believe that the whole course 
 of events is a coinmentaryoi\ the divine government of the world. Of all the 
 theological productions of Dr. Croly which have fallen under our notice, we 
 think this volume, in many respects, the most striking, and the most likely to 
 permanently establish his fame as an original, effective, and eloquent 
 preacher."— Britannia. 
 
 WILSON ANU OOII.VT, PRINTERS, 57, SKINNER STREET, SNOWHILL, LONDON. 
 
 /"^