Rainsfield had had a long conversation with Smithers on the subject that had been communicated to him by his wife; and had, after a good deal of persuasion, induced him to agree to absent himself from Strawberry Hill until Eleanor's recovery.

Smithers, when he found his companion disposed to favour him, was the louder in his a.s.severations of guiltlessness; demanding an instant opportunity of explanation, and vowing vengeance against everybody concerned, and John Rainsfield in particular, for not being master in his own house. However Rainsfield, though he was inclined to forget his dignity by stooping to entreaty with him, was nevertheless firm to his purpose, and not to be intimidated by his bl.u.s.tering; and at last succeeded in inducing him to promise to take his departure by daylight the following morning, so as to avoid the possibility of any further unpleasantness. With that he left him to his own meditations, and walked away.

Mr. Rainsfield had not taken many steps beyond the out-buildings belonging to the house before he heard his own name called in a cautious manner from behind a tree; and, glancing his eye in the direction whence came the voice, he was startled to see the stalwart figure of a black, half concealed behind the trunk, beckoning him with his finger. The suddenness of the apparition for some moments unnerved him, and deprived him of the power of utterance. He, however, mastered his fears; and, as his self-control returned, he demanded to know what the black wanted with him.

"You know me, Mr. Rainsfield?" replied the black, "I'm Jemmy Davies."

"Oh, yes, I know you," replied Mr. Rainsfield, "but I thought you and the whole of your tribe had left the country."

"So we did, sir, but we've all come back again, and a great many more of the tribe too, and they are determined to kill you. Barw.a.n.g and all Dugingi's friends will kill you, and I can't prevent them though I've tried; for they are too strong for me. So I've come to give you warning."

"They intend to kill me, do they? then, by G--! they shall repent their rash resolve. But how am I to believe this?" asked Mr. Rainsfield of the black. "You! you wretch, have you got some vile scheme in your head.

Think yourself fortunate that I've no gun with me or I'd shoot you on the spot."

"You wouldn't shoot me," replied Jemmy Davies; "didn't Mr. Tom tell you that I'm always a good friend to you, how I tried to stop Dugingi from stealing your rations when you killed so many of our tribe; and now I come to tell you that they want to kill you and you think me no good.

But what for do you think, Mr. Rainsfield, I want to do you harm? If I want to see you die I wouldn't tell you of this; but let the black fellows kill you. If you will not believe me I can't help it; but if you like to come down to the crossing-place to-night at dark I'll meet you and show you our camp in the scrub; when you will see if I tell you a lie. I will stop Barw.a.n.g and his friends as long as I can, but I can't prevent them altogether from coming to you; so you had better look out and be ready."

This warning sounded as an avenging declaration in the ear of Rainsfield. He had for sometime flattered himself on his security and tranquillity; and hoped, nay even believed, that he had effectually ridden himself of a hitherto incessant annoyance. But now that the surviving friends of his foes had returned, with the avowed object of seeking vengeance, he was troubled in his mind. He, however, determined to further question his informant, and, rousing himself from a reverie into which he had fallen, perceived that the black had departed. Mr.

Rainsfield dragged through the remainder of the day with a heavy heart, and never more than then regretted the absence of his brother. Should he accept the black's invitation? he asked himself. It would be a satisfaction to know in what force they were collected; but then (he thought) the messenger might mean treachery. However, he would go; he could detect it if it existed, and if it was attempted he could shoot the wretch before he had time or opportunity to betray him. Yes (he thought) he would arm himself well, and meet Jemmy Davies at the time and place he appointed.

"I'm glad you've come, Mr. Rainsfield," exclaimed the black, emerging from the obscurity of the bush, as the squatter rode down to the bank of the river some few hours after the last interview.

"Yes I've come," said Rainsfield, "and at your bidding; but see I am well armed," as he pointed to a brace of revolvers in his belt, "and, if you are attempting to play me false, the first shot I'll fire shall be through your body."

"Never fear me, Mr. Rainsfield," replied Jemmy Davies, "I'm not going to betray you. My greatest fear is not from your pistols but from the tomahawks of my tribe; for if they find me with you they will be sure to kill me."

"Very well," said Rainsfield, "I'll follow you, lead the way;" and the two crossed the stream in silence.

"You had better leave your horse here, sir," said the guide, "in case he should be heard by the tribe."

Rainsfield acted on this hint and dismounted; and fastening the animal to a tree, he said to the black: "Now you can go on, but remember if this is a trap for me you had better think twice before you proceed; for I shall keep my hand ready to lodge a ball in your heart the moment I perceive any treachery."

"Never be afraid, sir," replied the black, who continued to thread the scrub in silence with his companion close to his heels. When they had proceeded thus for some little time Rainsfield perceived by the appearance of lights, and the noise of the blacks' voices, that they were nearing "the camp." Jemmy Davies desired him to keep close to him, and make no noise, as they were nearer the camp than appeared through the thick scrub, and then led him a few steps further forward, when the whole tribe became plainly discernible. They then dropt on their hands and knees and crept close up to what we may call the circ.u.mvallation of the gunyahs; and the crouching white man surveyed intently the scene before him. Then would have been the time to have profited by his position if treachery had been meditated; but not a leaf stirred around them, while Rainsfield was lost in a reverie none of the most pleasant.

He was, however, aroused from this by Jemmy Davies, who pointed to a group apart from the body of the tribe consisting of about fifteen men, who were all armed with their spears, nullanullas, and boomerangs, and were painted for a corroboree. One black, taller than the rest, was haranguing them at the moment, and his hearers were apparently acquiescing in his directions, from the yells and other marks of approbation with which they from time to time greeted his diatribe.

"That's Barw.a.n.g and his friends," whispered Jemmy as he drew away his companion from the spot. "They will have a great corroboree to-morrow, and then you look out. To-morrow night they will come up to the station to watch, very likely they will be somewhere about where you saw me this morning; so if you keep some one on the look-out, and fire some shots into the bush, they will think you see them and keep away. They won't do anything to-morrow night, but watch. When they come up to kill you there will come a great many, so keep looking out."

Rainsfield and his companion returned to the crossing-place, when the former mounted his horse and pa.s.sed through the river, while the latter returned to his tribe.

CHAPTER VII.

"Till taught by pain, Men really know not what good water's worth."

BYRON.

The reader will remember Tom Rainsfield's journey to town had been delayed for some time beyond when he had originally intended to start owing to the precarious state of Eleanor's health; consequently, when he took his departure, it was necessary for him to use speed in his travelling.

The summer had by that time considerably advanced, and the country had suffered much from the continued drought that had prevailed for months.

Rain was anxiously and hopingly looked for, and a pluvial visitation would have been hailed by the entire population with satisfaction. Tom, as he journeyed, saw this desideratum more plainly than before leaving home; for, as he mounted on to the extensive plains contiguous to the source of the Gibson river, the parched bare soil became perfectly uncomfortable to travel on.

These plains were of fine black alluvial soil, so thinly timbered as to have hardly a tree visible within range of the eye. They were covered with gra.s.s, which, when the earth contained any moisture, flourished luxuriantly, and would at times stand waving like an agrarian picture of cereal plenty, so abundant as to impede the progress of the equestrian traveller. But now a "change had come o'er the spirit of the dream," and the herbous ma.s.s lay scorched and dry on the arid ground, offering no nutriment to the browsing kine, and only requiring a single spark to generate a grand combustion.

Much has been said and written of the burning prairies of America, and of the bush-fires of Australia; and we may remark, it is in such places as these plains where they originate. Though not so extensive and destructive in their course of devastation as those fearful conflagrations in the western hemisphere, the bush-fires are still frequently of sufficient magnitude to be perfectly irresistible; and occurring as they usually do in the heart of a settled country, they are rendered more dangerous to human life and property. How they originate often remains a mystery. Of course carelessness frequently gives rise to them; though at the same time they have been known to occur in parts where neither whites nor blacks ever tread; and too often, when the destroying element rages over and sweeps away a homestead or a farm, the work is attributed to the incendiarism of some inoffensive blacks, who are made to suffer at the hands of the whites.

Tom Rainsfield journeyed on his course over these plains that looked like a vast neglected hay-field; except in parts where water had lodged and formed temporary ponds or "water-holes." There it presented an area of black mud, baked hard by the power of the sun, and had absorbed so much of its heat as to render it even painful for a horse to stand upon.

Tom rode under vertical rays, keeping as much as possible on the withered gra.s.s (as being more comfortable than the sun-absorbing and reflecting road), without the companionship of a fellow traveller to relieve the monotony and solitude of the way; and not daring to indulge in the consolation of a pipe, lest a stray spark should ignite the inflammable material at his feet. Miles and miles of this weary and trying travelling were pa.s.sed, and Tom was not sorry when the track entered a country less open, and he once more rode through bush land.

Here, too, the ground, though partially sheltered from the sun's rays, was equally devoid of feed and moisture. Not a blade of gra.s.s was to be seen, nor a drop of water in the creeks and water-holes. For himself, notwithstanding that his thirst was insatiable, Tom cared little; he could manage to do without a drink until he reached the end of his day's stage; but it was for the faithful animal that carried him that he anxiously scrutinized every spot likely to contain the smallest reservoir of the much coveted liquid. But his researches were all unavailing; as yet no water could he find; until at one point on the road, when he had almost given up the search as hopeless, he spied a large swamp filled with reeds, in which a herd of cattle lay almost concealed, apparently cooling themselves in the water. Here then he had no doubt he should find what he and his horse had so much desired; and hastening on to the black adamantine margin of what had formerly been a large lagoon, he witnessed a sight that struck him with dismay. Not one drop of water was visible in the extensive basin, and the cattle which he had imagined were luxuriating in a natural refrigerator, were dead and immovable.

Such scenes are common under similar circ.u.mstances; and at times, while the country is suffering from the effects of a drought, to see cattle "bogged" in a water-hole is only thought of as a necessary consequence fully expected, and therefore hardly to be deplored. Still when witnessed by one who may be seeking that which is essential to life, to allay a thirst which may be consuming, it is enough to make the heart of such sink within him; and, though Tom was hardly in so reduced a predicament, yet he could not gaze on the unfortunate animals without some unpleasant admixture of perturbation and concern.

In the swamp as many as fifty cattle had sought shelter from the heat and moisture for their thirsty tongues. But having waded through the mud, into which they had sank to their middles, they had possibly satisfied themselves for the moment with a concoction of glutinous soil and vapid lukewarm water; but, from their exhausted strength, had not been able to extricate themselves from their miry bondage, and had consequently died in their captivity. The mud at the time of Tom's visit had perfectly hardened, and he traversed the whole bed of the swamp, in the vain hope of finding some friendly hole in which a few welcome drops might be found for his worn-out steed. But his search was fruitless, and he was at last reluctantly compelled to relinquish it, from the attacks of myriads of flies, who were disturbed at their bovine repast. He at length continued his journey with a worn-out horse and a f.a.gged and jaded spirit, and was not a little grateful, as evening gathered its shades around, to espy the glimmer of a light from the station which was his night's destination.

Tom's further progress was equally tedious and trying. The whole country seemed parched up, and it was with the greatest difficulty he could push on at all; and as the fatigue to himself and his horse necessitated him to make his day's stages much shorter than he desired, it was the sixth day from his leaving Strawberry Hill that he entered the village of Waverley on the Brisbane river.

When we call this a village it is only out of courtesy that we are guilty of such a misnomer. For though, by the government plan of the township, it looks a well-arranged and thriving place, we must state, notwithstanding that building allotments had from time to time been put up at auction by the government, and we may add found purchasers, and that the existence of a public-house, rejoicing in the high-sounding t.i.tle of the Royal Hotel, lent an imposing air to the place,--the gracefully tinted Queen Street, Albert Street, Prince of Wales Street, etc. etc., of the elaborate survey office map, only existed in the mind of the surveyor, and the imagination of the land-jobber. The said thriving thoroughfares remained in a state of primeval grandeur; having their boundaries marked, for the convenience of inquisitive seekers after information, by small pegs driven into the ground, and whose sole object seemed to be to lie concealed and bewilder those who might desire to find them.

By the foresaid plan this town or village (or, as the Americans would say, this city) of Waverley was laid out with considerable taste. The streets were all broad and at right angles; with a market reserve; grants for church sites to various denominations of Christians; and a broad quay facing the river, either for commercial purposes or for a promenade for the inhabitants. But in reality the whole of the architecture of the place was comprised in the sole habitation, the Royal Hotel; which was built near the bank of the river, with a rough fence enclosing three sides of a piece of ground that ran down to the water's edge. This const.i.tuted the paddock for the horses of weary travellers; and, judging from the dilapidated and generally insecure state of the fence, argued the rare occurrence of a quadrupedal occupancy. However, the sight of these little imperfections gave Tom no concern, as he was confident his animal would not attempt, in the state of fatigue to which he was reduced, to go roaming; and what gladdened his heart more than anything was the sight of what he had long been unacquainted with, fresh water. It was therefore with a considerable amount of mental relief that he rode up to the unpretending hostlery. He alighted at a door before which stood a post suspending a nondescript lamp of antideluvian construction, and bearing from its appearance questionable evidence of its ever having been submitted to the ordeal of beaconing the path of the weary traveller. On the same post was affixed a board on which the sign of the house was very plainly executed in Roman character; informing, and we think very necessarily so, the occasional visitor there was to be had accommodation for man and beast.

The road leading to the Royal Hotel was not the one usually taken by travellers from the interior to Brisbane. But Tom had chosen it to avoid the more frequented track; knowing that in the present state of the country travelling on the latter would be much more difficult and troublesome. Therefore he had come by this secluded spot; intending to cross the river, and travel down by the northern bank to Brisbane, while the usual route was through the thriving and populous town of Ipswich, and down the southern side of the Brisbane river.

Tom Rainsfield entered the inn; and having his horse taken round by the landlord to a bark shed designated a stable, where he preferred tending the animal himself, rather than leaving him to the tender mercies of a stranger, he gave him a drink of water and a feed of corn; and then placing some bush hay at his disposal, left him to practise his mastication, and make the most of his time. Having thus arranged for the comforts of his steed Tom next thought of himself; so strolling into the house, while something was preparing to satisfy the cravings of his inward man, he walked into "the bar," to indulge in a pipe with something cheering, and amuse himself by a little conversation with the landlord. He entered the precincts of that _quarterre_ devoted to the worship of the rosy G.o.d, and where the ministering spirit presided, stationed behind a primitive sort of counter or bench, and at whose back stood two kegs with taps and sundry bottles arranged on a shelf. These (whatever their contents) appeared to be the stock-in-trade of the establishment; excepting a large cask which stood in a corner, and which by its appearance indicated spirituous contents, from whose bulk probably the smaller kegs were from time to time replenished. Into this sanctum then walked our friend Tom Rainsfield, and after calling for a drink, and desiring the landlord in bush fashion to join him, he lit his pipe; and taking his seat on the counter entered into the following dialogue.

"I shouldn't think you did much business here?"

"Oh, pretty fair, sir."

"Why, there doesn't appear to be many who frequent this room. I should have thought it would have hardly been worth your while to have kept a house in this place."

"Nor more it would if I lived by gents a-stopping at my house; for I don't get one of 'em a month. But you see them as pays me is the sawyers; there are lots of 'em about these parts, cutting timber on the hills and in the scrubs; and when they get their logs down into the river they mostly stop here a while drinking before they raft the timber over the flats on their way down to the mills. Then when they come back they generally stop a while on the spree before they go to work. So, you see, I makes a pretty good thing out of 'em; besides you see I keeps rations here as well as grog, and sell them to the fellers when they run short and ain't got no money."

"But don't you often lose your money? I suppose they have none when they go to town with their rafts, and very little when they come back; that is even if they ever do come back; then I suppose you lose your score."

"Oh, I manage to get it; precious few ever 'bilk' me, for I know my marks pretty well, and them as I fancy won't come back I get to pay me in timber; and I brand the logs with my own brand, and give some of the fellers I can trust so much a hundred feet to raft them down for me. But mostly the chaps come back before they have spree'd away all their money. So I gets my share, as they pay me then what they owe me, and have another go in until they 'knock down their pile.'"

"And how much do their 'piles' consist of?"

"Well, I couldn't say anything regular. I have had as much as a hundred pounds 'knocked down' by one man at a time." And as the man said this he smiled and heaved a sigh that seemed to say those were prosperous times for him. True enough it was that he had had as large a sum of money paid to him by one man; but as to the amount being actually spent, or an equivalent even in liquor supplied, is extremely doubtful; but to follow them in their conversation, Tom remarked:

"And then they return to their work, I suppose, quite penniless?"

"Oh, yes, it is very few of them ever have any money when they get back to the scrubs; they have no use for it there, so they spend it like men."

"Like fools you mean."