CHAPTER FIVE.
The Gilpins found Craven a great addition to their social circle intheir remote station. They, more than ever, required support andassistance, for depressing news began to reach them from Sydney. Thefinancial affairs of the colony had for some time past been in anunsatisfactory state. Money for paying the men was often considerablyin arrear; and stores and provisions were sent up only in smallquantities and of an inferior quality. At length, a letter arrived fromthe agent, directing them to send produce to Sydney, to meet certainheavy liabilities. As wool was not forthcoming, they were to boil downboth cattle and sheep, to dismiss a large number of the men, and topractise the most rigid economy. The requisite boilers and casks forthe tallow soon afterwards arrived. It was most disagreeable andpainful work. Flock after flock of sheep were driven in andslaughtered; the carcases were put into the cauldrons, the fat waspacked in the casks, and the hides roughly dried; while the meat, whichmight have fed thousands of the starving poor in the old country, wasallowed, of necessity, to rot uselessly on the ground. Theirs was nosolitary instance of the consequence of want of capital to carry onbusiness, for such was the condition to which the greater number ofsquatters throughout the colony were reduced. Fortunately, tallow andhides were in demand, and realised high prices, and thus many of thesettlers were soon able to get out of their difficulties, though leftwith sadly diminished flocks and herds. The Gilpins and their overseer,Craven, spared no exertion to save, as far as possible, the loss ofproperty. One day Arthur had gone in search of some cattle, which hadstrayed among the range of mountains to the west. After looking forthem in vain, he was returning, annoyed and out of spirits, when heobserved a stream issuing from the side of a hill, with the banks oneither side encrusted with a glittering white substance. He tasted it,and found it perfectly salt. Collecting a pocketful, he returned homewith his spirits completely revived. All the party were of opinion thatit was a salt spring; that others would be found in the neighbourhood;and that salt could be manufactured with which the meat, which was nowlost, might be preserved either for sale or for future consumption. Thenext morning they eagerly set out for the spot. They were notdisappointed. Other springs were found. By evaporation alone, a smallsupply could be procured; and with some simple apparatus they hoped toproduce as much as they would require. A cauldron and some pans weresent up, and after a few experiments they succeeded to theirsatisfaction; and they were able to send into Sydney, with the nextdray-load of tallow, a cask of salted hams and tongues.
About this time, they received a letter from their first friend in thecolony, Mr Prentiss, saying that the losses of his family had been sogreat, and that his father had so taken it to heart, that he wascompletely prostrate, and not likely to survive. He had, therefore,himself come up to take the management of affairs, accompanied by hischildren. He requested James to come and pay him a visit without delay.Leaving Arthur and Craven in charge, he at once set off. He rodealone, though he would probably have to camp out one or two nights.There were stations on the road, but they were at inconvenientdistances; and unless compelled by bad weather, he did not purposestopping at them. He had a gun as a protection; but he had no fear ofbushrangers. They were now seldom heard of in the colony. From wildbeasts to be dreaded by a traveller, Australia is, happily, free. Hewas not likely to meet any blacks inclined to be unfriendly.Occasionally the natives murdered hut-keepers and stockmen, but in mostinstances they had been provoked to do so by ill-treatment. Withsaddle-bags and holsters well filled, a blanket, a tin kettle and pot,strapped to the saddle before him, he set forth on his journey. Thereis an elasticity in the atmosphere and a freedom from restraint whichmakes travelling on horseback in Australia most delightful. JamesGilpin enjoyed it to the full. He also found it good to be aloneoccasionally, to commune with his heart; and this journey gave him ampleopportunity of being so. The first day passed over pleasantly. He hadarranged to spend the evening with an acquaintance on the road. As hisown shadow and that of his steed were lengthened out on the grass, thesmoke of his friend's hut, curling up among the gum trees, appearedbefore him. He called out as he rode up to the door, but no voiceanswered; the distant sound, however, of tinkling sheep bells told himthat the flock of the station was being driven into a pen for the night,where the new-born lambs could be better protected from the dingoes andhawks, their chief enemies, than if left on the open. Unsaddling andturning his horse into a paddock near at hand, he entered the hut. Thekettle was hissing on the fire, and the damper was baking under it.There were signs that the hut was the residence of a gentleman (thoughall was in the rough), and evidently that of a bachelor. Every spot onthe walls was covered with shooting and fishing gear, sporting prints,and some of a better description; and there was a book-case, withthoroughly used volumes, and coats and hats hung up, and shelves loadedwith all sorts of articles, and chests below, and casks, one with flourready open; the corners also were crowded. There was a bed-chamberboarded off for the owner, a refinement not very often indulged in, anda bunk at one end of the general room, for the hut-keeper. The cheeryvoice of the proprietor addressing his dogs announced his return. Hewarmly greeted his neighbour (their abodes were only forty miles apart);and tea, damper, cold beef, and pork were speedily on the table.
The two settlers were merry and contented, in spite of misfortunes.Johnstone had also been compelled to boil down.
"Now is the time for a fellow with five or six hundred pounds to lay thefoundation of a fortune," he observed; "both cattle and sheep can bebought at a mere nominal price. I must sell or boil down still more ofmine; but I see my way clearly out of my difficulties, and keep up myspirits."
The hint was not lost upon James. He had been unwilling to take any ofhis employers' cattle, lest it might throw him open to suspicion; but henow resolved to offer to purchase some, and, at all events, to take allthat Mr Johnstone might wish to sell. Local subjects were of coursediscussed.
"By-the-by," observed Mr Johnstone, "we were surprised some days ago atseeing a white man lurking about here, dressed in skins and rags. Thepeople thought he must be mad; for whenever they approached him, he ranoff howling into the bush. I ordered some food to be placed for him ata spot where we could watch him. He saw us, and would not approach; butafter watching for some time we went away, and he then must have dartedout from his concealment and carried off the food, for when we returnedit was gone. From that day he disappeared, and whether he has beendrowned in some river or water-hole, or has been starved in the bush, Icannot say."
James Gilpin started at an early hour the next morning, intending tomake a long day's journey, and to camp out, as he must in that case do.His horse, a peculiarly fine and strong one, bore him well through theearly part of the day. In the afternoon he entered a forest, extendingon either side to a considerable distance. The track through it wasless defined than usual, still, by constant reference to his compass,when he had any doubts, he had no fear about making a mistake.
He had ridden on for some distance, when he observed that the sky wasovercast, and the wind began to moan among the trees. Suddenly, with aspring which would have thrown a worse rider, his horse started at avivid flash of lightning which darted from the sky, struck a huge treenear him, tearing off a large limb, and then ran hissing along theground. A crash of thunder, such as he had really heard, followed, andhe found it impossible to prevent his affrighted steed from setting offat full gallop among the trees. It was with the greatest difficultythat he could guide the animal, so as to save his legs from being dashedagainst the trunks and his head against the branches. Crash succeededcrash in rapid succession, and at times so vivid was the lightning thatthe forest seemed one blaze of fire. In vain he searched for an openspace where he might, at all events, be free from the danger of beingcrushed by falling branches. Now he thought he saw an opening on oneside, now on the other; but each time he was disappointed. Hediscovered, however, that he had got out of the track, and when he beganto consider in w
hich direction he should go, he was under the somewhatpainful feeling that he had lost his way. He put his hand in his pocketto examine his compass; it was not there. Again and again he searchedfor it; nowhere was it to be found. It had undoubtedly been jerked outof his pocket during some of the violent springs his steed had made whenfrightened by the lightning. He had not the remotest hope of finding iton the ground, and would therefore not waste time in looking for it.Just as he had made this disagreeable discovery, the fury of the stormabated, and he was in hopes that it was about to cease altogether. Herode forward, he believed, towards the east. If he could get out of thewood he might still reach a station before dark, considerably short ofthe distance he hoped to have made good that day. On he went, his horsestarting and trembling, not having yet recovered from its fright. Therain was falling in torrents, and he was already wet through--nouncommon occurrence, however, for a squatter, who is in the saddle manyhours every day of the year. Down it came, harder than ever. Anothervivid flash, followed by a terrific clap of thunder, made his horseagain start forward. He galloped on till an open space was reached;here, at all events, he might be secure from falling branches, thoughnot from the lightning, which was darting in every direction.
He had almost lost hope of getting out of the wood that night. Wet ashe was, he must camp out on the bare ground. He was searching for aspot where he might dismount and tether his horse, when again the animalstarted; this time, however, it was not at a flash of lightning. Jameslooked round, when, about a dozen yards from him, he saw, as ifendeavouring to conceal himself behind the gnarled stem of an aged gumtree of gigantic proportions, the very figure Johnstone had described tohim the previous evening. At first he thought that his imagination musthave deceived him; the light was uncertain, and his eyes had beendazzled by the lightning. Still, he could not be mistaken: there wasthe human face, the glaring eyeballs, the matted hair and beard, and thedress of skins and rags. The figure moved its arms and made threateninggestures at him. "I must know whether this is reality or imagination,"he said to himself, again urging on his horse towards the tree underwhich the seeming figure stood. As he did so, the threatening gesturesbecame more vehement, and, as he continued to advance, a loud, unearthlyshriek rang through the forest, and the unhappy maniac, for such withoutdoubt he was, fled away into its depths, his cries echoing amidst thetrees till they grew faint in the distance. This incident did notcontribute to make the prospect of camping out in that wild spotpleasant. Still, James Gilpin had no choice, and his mind was too welltrained to allow him to be made anxious by unnecessary apprehensions.The only thing he dreaded was the possibility of the maniac returning,and, perhaps, should he drop asleep, committing some violence on him.Both rain and lightning had ceased, and having tethered his horse in agrassy spot, where the animal might find food, he bethought him of thepossibility of lighting a fire. Under the trees there was no lack offuel, and with the last remnant of daylight he collected enough to servehim till the morning. Under the lee side of the trees, also, he scrapedtogether enough dry leaves and small twigs and bark to raise a blaze anddry the wet wood. He looked up very frequently, as was natural, toascertain that the maniac was not near him. With flint, steel, andgunpowder he quickly raised a blaze; his kettle was boiling, his meattoasting, and his damper warming up, while his blanket and clothes weredrying; and had it not been for the spectre he had seen, he would havebeen well content with his lot,--not that he much feared what the poorcreature could do to him, but it was the feeling that at any moment hemight rush out on him which was so painful. By the look of the sky hesaw that the weather was still unsettled, and the state of theatmosphere, judging by his sensations, told him that there might stillbe more thunder and lightning. He consequently considered it imprudentto seek for greater shelter under the trees. His clothes and blanketswere now tolerably dry, and having shifted the tether of his horse, thatthe animal might have fresh food, he wrapped himself up, with his feetto the fire and his head on his saddle-bags to seek that rest of whichhe stood so much in need.
He, of course, intended to keep his eyes open, and turned in thedirection where the poor maniac had disappeared. As might, however,have been expected, he closed them and fell fast asleep. Weariness madehim sleep, but anxiety prevented him from sleeping soundly. He wasdreaming, it seemed, all the time; and his dreams were painful andconfused in the extreme. The strange figure of the maniac wasconstantly before him, while his unearthly cries resounded in his ears.His chief idea was that he was engaged in a desperate struggle to getout of some fearful difficulty--now swimming in a roaring torrent, nowclimbing a precipice with savage animals raging below, now flying forhis life across a boundless plain; the maniac was mocking him on thebanks of the stream, or present among the wild beasts, or following himwith a troop of savages across the plain. A loud noise sounded in hisear. It was a peal of thunder. The storm was again raging withredoubled fury. He started up to secure his horse, lest the frightenedanimal should break loose and escape into the depths of the forest. Hemust have slept long, for a few glowing ashes only remained of his fire,which the rain would soon quench, unless a supply of fresh wood wereadded. He felt for some he had placed in readiness, and threw it on theashes. As he did so, a vivid flash of lightning lit up the forestopening, and by its light he saw, with a gleaming axe uplifted in hishand, the wretched maniac stealthily approaching him. He sprang to hisfeet, seizing his rifle, when again all was darkness.
"Stand back, whoever you are, or I must fire!" he shouted, at the sametime leaping on one side, away from the spot where he had been lying.
There was the sound of feet, as if a person was springing over theground, a shriek, and the crash of a weapon descending. Yes, he wascertain it had struck his saddle-bags. The next instant, the woodigniting on the fire, a flame burst forth, revealing the figure of themaniac retreating across the glade in the direction of the old tree,where he had at first appeared. He must have just reached it whenanother flash of lightning came down in a zigzag course from the veryclouds overhead. It struck the huge tree, which was riven into severalportions, and its knotted limbs scattered around. The thunder at thesame moment crashed and rattled with almost terrific sound. He seizedthe tether rope of his horse, as the animal, having torn the pin fromthe ground, was about to dash off through the forest. The poor creaturestood as his hand stroked its head, but trembled violently. He broughtit up to the fire, looking round as he did so for his late assailant,but the maniac was nowhere to be seen. He had the greatest difficultyin keeping his horse quiet; for the storm continued raging as before,the rain came down in torrents, the wind howled and whistled, and thelightning flashed; the thunder roared and rattled, and the rending ofboughs, and the crashing of falling trees was heard on every side,warning him of the danger of attempting to pass among them. As may besupposed, he did not again lie down: having saddled his horse and thrownhis blanket over his shoulders, he employed the time in quieting theanimal, throwing wood on his fire, and keeping a vigilant watch for theapproach of the maniac. The most weary night must have an end. Thestorm ceased completely; the dawn came at last. He looked around. Thesight which most attracted his attention was the blackened stump of thathuge tree which had stood there the previous evening--the monarch of theforest glade. He approached it. Under one of the limbs lay a humanform--it was the maniac's body; life was extinct. He examined thefeatures. There could be no mistake; though haggard by starvation andexposure, and distorted by his violent death, he recognised them asthose of the former overseer of Warragong, the outlaw Basham. A smallblack mark on one side of his head showed that he had been struck by theelectric fluid, and that his death must have been instantaneous, andmust have immediately followed the attempt on his life. To bury thebody of the wretched man was impossible. All he could do was to dragthe heavier boughs of the trees torn off by the storm over it and leaveit thus entombed, and then to escape from the scene. The rising sunshowed him the direction he should pursue, and in half an h
our he wasout of the wood, and had regained the track with which he wasacquainted. He reached a station in time for breakfast, when henarrated to the occupant what had occurred, and learned from him thatBasham had more than once been there asking for food.
A rest of a few hours restored James's strength; but instead of campingout as he had intended, he was glad to take shelter that night inanother squatter's hut. It was thus that the traveller in those dayswas able to traverse the province from one end to the other, with thecertainty of finding food and shelter, and a welcome at any hut where hemight call. He was most cordially received at Prentiss Town, where hearrived late in the evening; but he went to a house of mourning. OldMr Prentiss, under the belief that his losses were far greater than wasthe case, and that the whole country was about to be ruined, had sunkbroken-hearted into the grave. He had trusted in riches, and they hadfailed him. An apathetic indifference to everything around him hadseized his eldest son, who had the same belief in the ruin impendingover the colony.
Notwithstanding this, there was sunlight in the dwelling: there couldnot fail to be so, James thought, where Fanny and Emily Prentiss were tobe found. They received him as an old and valued friend, and expressedtheir sorrow that his brother could not have accompanied him. Henaturally expected that they would complain of the dulness of the lifethey must now lead in the country, and regret all the gaieties andamusements they had left behind in Sydney; but, on the contrary, theyseemed much pleased at having escaped from its unsatisfactoryfrivolities. Everything in the country delighted them, and they had nofear of no having ample occupation. They proposed to study the naturalhistory of the district--the trees and flowers, the birds and insects,and the wild animals, of which there were not a few; then the farm wouldof itself afford ample occupation, along with the improvements in thehouse, into which they were about to move, on another part of theestate, where a garden was also to be formed. And there were alsoseveral settlers with wives and grown-up daughters, who lived somewhatfar off, to be sure; but the young ladies were good horse-women, andthought little of a ride of thirty miles or so. There were likewisenumerous families of the lower orders, who had no means of obtainingreligious or secular instruction. Among these they circulated books andtracts, and would often stop and read the Word of God to those who wereunable to read themselves. Thus every moment of each day was fullyoccupied. James Gilpin could not fail to admire the manner in which hisyoung hostesses spent their time, or to discover how many objects ofinterest they had in common. Even under ordinary circumstances he wouldhave been interested in them. As it was, the interest he felt increasedthe longer he remained in their society. He was of much use to MrHenry Prentiss in arranging the affairs connected with the property; andat length, with new hopes and aspirations, he returned to Warragong.The arrangements for the purchase of the cattle and sheep were sooncomplete. The brothers did not even now lay out all their capital, butallowed a portion to remain in the bank to meet any unexpected demands.They had from the first been allowed a percentage on the increase of thestock under their charge; but this, owing to the mismanagement of thepersons employed, and the depredations of Basham and his associates, hadhitherto been small. The boiling-down process at length being no longernecessary, and the management in every department being greatlyimproved, the increase was so much more rapid than at first, that theyfound themselves, a few years after landing in Australia, the owners ofvery considerable flocks and herds, while no men in the district weremore respected. Their visits to Prentiss Town became more and morefrequent; sometimes one brother went, sometimes the other--as they wereunwilling to leave the station together--and they both met with areception which made them wish to return. The Prentiss Town propertywas now divided, and the house inhabited by Mr Henry Prentiss wasconsiderably nearer to them than that of his elder brother. They alsohad secured some runs lower down the Warragong river; and having fixedon a site for a house in that direction, somewhat similar, but far morepicturesque than the spot where the old hut stood, they built a hutwhich they could inhabit till their new residence could be erected,leaving Craven in charge of that up the stream. This change enabledthem to leave their own abode early in the morning, and to reach that ofMr Prentiss before sunset. There was the house of a new settler abouthalf-way, and several huts where refreshment could be obtained, so thattheir visits became still more frequent and expected. Even in the bushgossip is not impossible, and it became pretty generally reported thatthe two Mr Gilpins were about to marry the two daughters of Mr HenryPrentiss.