Archie felt (this too is figurative) as the mariner may be supposed to feel just leaving his native sh.o.r.e to sail away over the broad, the boundless ocean to far-off lands. His hand is on the tiller; the sh.o.r.e is receding; his eye is aloft, where the sails are bellying out before the wind. There is hardly a sound, save the creaking of the blocks, or rattle of the rudder chains, the joyous ripple of the water, and the screaming of the sea-birds, that seem to sing their farewells. Away ahead is the blue horizon and the heaving sea, but he has faith in his good barque, and faith in his own skill and judgment, and for the time being he is a Viking; he is "monarch of all he surveys."

"Monarch of all he surveys?" Yes; these words are borrowed from the poem on Robinson Crusoe, you remember; that stirring story that so appeals to the heart of every genuine boy.

There was something of the Robinson Crusoe element in Archie's present mode of living, for he and his friends had to rough it in the same delightfully primitive fashion. They had to know and to practise a little of almost every trade under the sun; and while life to the boy-- he was really little more--was very real and very earnest, it felt all the time like playing at being a man.

But how am I to account for the happiness--nay, even joyfulness--that appeared to be infused in the young man's very blood and soul? Nay, not appeared to be only, but that actually was--a joyfulness whose effects could at times be actually felt in his very frame and muscle like a proud thrill, that made his steps and tread elastic, and caused him to gaily sing to himself as he went about at his work. May I try to explain this by a little homely experiment, which you yourself may also perform? See, here then I have a small disc of zinc, no larger than a coat b.u.t.ton, and I have also a shilling-piece. I place the former on my tongue, and the latter between my lower lip and gum, and lo! the moment I permit the two metallic edges to touch I feel a tingling thrill, and if my eyes be shut I perceive a flash as well. It is electricity pa.s.sing through the bodily medium--my tongue. The one coin becomes _en rapport_, so to speak, with the other. So in like manner was Archie's soul within him _en rapport_ with all the light, the life, the love he saw around him, his body being but the wholesome, healthy, solid medium.

_En rapport_ with the light. Why, by day this was everywhere--in the sky during its midday blue brightness; in the clouds so gorgeously painted that lay over the hills at early morning, or over the wooded horizon near eventide. _En rapport_ with the light dancing and shimmering in the pool down yonder; playing among the wild flowers that grew everywhere in wanton luxuriance; flickering through the tree-tops, despite the trailing creepers; gleaming through the tender greens of fern fronds in cool places; sporting with the strange fantastic, but brightly-coloured orchids; turning greys to white, and browns to bronze; warming, wooing, beautifying all things--the light, the lovely light.

_En rapport_ with the life. Ay, there it was. Where was it not? In the air, where myriads of insects dance and buzz and sing and poise hawk-like above flowers, as if inhaling their sweetness, or dart hither and thither in their zigzag course, and almost with the speed of lightning; where monster beetles go droning lazily round, as if uncertain where to alight; where moths, like painted fans, hover in the sunshine, or fold their wings and go to sleep on flower-tops. In the forests, where birds, like animated blossoms, living chips of dazzling colours, hop from boughs, climb stems, run along silvery bark on trees, hopping, jumping, tapping, talking, chattering, screaming, with bills that move and throats that heave even when their voices cannot be heard in the feathered babel. Life on the ground, where thousands of busy beetles creep, or play hide-and-seek among the stems of tall gra.s.s, and where ants innumerable go in search of what they somehow never seem to find. Life on the water slowly sailing round, or in and out among the reeds, in the form of bonnie velvet ducks and pretty spangled teal.

Life in the water, where shoals of fish dart hither and thither, or rest for a moment in shallows to bask in the sun, their bodies all a-quiver with enjoyment. Life in the sky itself, high up. Behold that splendid flock of wonga-wonga pigeons, with bronzen wings, that seem to shake the sunshine off them in showers of silver and gold, or, lower down, that mob of snowy-breasted c.o.c.katoos, going somewhere to do something, no doubt, and making a dreadful din about it, but quite a sight, if only from the glints of lily and rose that appear in the white of their outstretched wings and tails. Life everywhere.

_En rapport_ with all the love around him. Yes, for it is spring here, though the autumn tints are on the trees in groves and woods at Burley.

Deep down in the forest yonder, if you could penetrate without your clothes being torn from your back, you might listen to the soft murmur of the doves that stand by their nests in the green gloom of fig trees; you would linger long to note the love pa.s.sages taking place among the cosy wee, bright, and bonnie parrakeets; you would observe the hawk flying silently, sullenly, home to his castle in the inaccessible heights of the gum trees, but you would go quickly past the forest dens of lively c.o.c.katoos. For everywhere it is spring with birds and beasts.

They have dressed in their gayest; they have a.s.sumed their fondest notes and cries; they live and breathe and buzz in an atmosphere of happiness and love.

Well, it was spring with Nature, and it was spring in Archie's heart.

Work was a pleasure to him.

That last sentence really deserves a line to itself. Without the ghost of an intention to moralise, I must be permitted to say, that the youth who finds an undoubted pleasure in working is sure to get on in Australia. There is that in the clear, pure, dry air of the back Bush which renders inactivity an impossibility to anyone except ne'er-do-wells and born idiots. This is putting it strongly, but it is also putting it truthfully.

Archie felt he had done with Sydney, for a time at all events, when he left. He was not sorry to shake the dust of the city from his half-wellingtons as he embarked on the _Canny Scotia_, bound for Brisbane.

If the Winslows had not been among the pa.s.sengers he certainly would have given vent to a sigh or two.

All for the sake of sweet little Etheldene? Yes, for her sake. Was she not going to be Rupert's wife, and his own second sister? Oh, he had it all nicely arranged, all cut and dry, I can a.s.sure you!

Here is a funny thing, but it is also a fact. The very day that the _Canny Scotia_ was to sail, Archie took Harry with him, and the two started through the city, and bore up for the shop of Mr Glorie.

They entered. It was like entering a gloomy vault. Nothing was altered. There stood the rows on rows of dusty bottles, with their dingy gilt labels; the dusty mahogany drawers; the morsel of railinged desk with its curtain of dirty red; there were the murky windows with their bottles of crusted yellows and reds; and up there the identical spider still working away at his dismal web, still living in hopes apparently of some day being able to catch a fly.

The melancholy-looking new apprentice, who had doubtless paid the new premium, a long lantern-jawed lad with great eyes in hollow sockets, and a blue-grey face, stood looking at the pair of them.

"Where is your master, Mr--?"

"Mr Myers, sir. Myers is my name."

"Where is Mr Glorie, Mr Myers?"

"D'ye wish to see'm, sir?"

"Don't it seem like it?" cried Harry, who for the life of him "could not help putting his oar in."

"Master's at the back, among--the soap."

He droned out the last words in such a lugubrious tone that Archie felt sorry for him.

Just then, thinking perhaps he scented a customer, Mr Glorie himself entered, all ap.r.o.n from the jaws to the knees.

"Ah! Mr Glorie," cried Archie. "I really couldn't leave Sydney without saying ta-ta, and expressing my sorrow for breaking--"

"Your indenture, young sir?"

"No; I'm glad I broke that. I mean the oil-jar. Here is a sovereign towards it, and I hope there's no bad feeling."

"Oh, no, not in the least, and thank you, sir, kindly!"

"Well, good-bye. Good-bye Mr Myers. If ever I return from the Bush I'll come back and see you."

And away they went, and away went Archie's feeling of gloom as soon as he got to the sunny side of the street.

"I say," said Harry, "that's a lively c.o.o.n behind the counter. Looks to me like a love-sick bandicoot, or a consumptive kangaroo. But don't you know there is such a thing as being too honest? Now that old death-and-glory chap robbed you, and had it been me, and I'd called again, it would have been to kick him. But you're still the old Johnnie."

Now if I were writing all this tale from imagination, instead of sketching the life and struggles of a real live laddie, I should have ascended into the realms of romance, and made a kind of hero of him thus: he should have gone straight away to the bank when he received that 50 pounds from his uncle, and sent it back, and then gone off to the bush with twopence halfpenny in his pocket, engaged himself to a squatter as under-man, and worked his way right up to the pinnacle of fortune.

But Archie had not done that; and between you and me and the binnacle, not to let it go any further, I think he did an extremely sensible thing in sticking to the money.

Oh, but plenty of young men who do not have uncles to send them fifty-pound notes to help them over their first failures, do very well without such a.s.sistance! So let no intending emigrant be disheartened.

Again, as to Winslow's wild way of borrowing said 50 pounds, and changing it into 300 pounds, that was another "fluke," and a sort of thing that might never happen again in a hundred years.

Pride did come in again, however, with a jump--with a gay Northumbrian bound--when Bob and Harry seriously proposed that Johnnie, as the latter still called him, should put his money in the pool, and share and share alike with them.

"No, no, no," said the young Squire, "don't rile me; that would be so obviously unfair to _you_, that it would be unfair to _myself_."

When asked to explain this seeming paradox, he added:

"Because it would rob me of my feeling of independence."

So the matter ended.

But through the long-headed kindness and business tact of Winslow, all three succeeded in getting farms that adjoined, though Archie's was but a patch compared to the united great farms of his chums, that stretched to a goodly two thousand acres and more, with land beyond to take up as pasture.

But then there was stock to buy, and tools, and all kinds of things, to say nothing of men's and boys' wages to be paid, and arms and ammunition to help to fill the larder.

At this time the railway did not go sweeping away so far west as it does now, the colony being very much younger, and considerably rougher; and the farms lay on the edge of the Darling Downs.

This was a great advantage, as it gave them the run of the markets without having to pay nearly as much in transit and freight as the stock was worth.

They had another advantage in their selection--thanks once more to Winslow--they had Bush still farther to the west of them. Not adjacent, to be sure, but near enough to make a shift of stock to gra.s.s lands, that could be had for an old song, as the saying is.

The selection was procured under better conditions than I believe it is to be had to-day; for the rent was only about ninepence an acre, and that for twenty years, the whole payable at any time in order to obtain complete possession.

[At present agricultural farms may be selected of not more than 1280 acres, and the rent is fixed by the Land Board, not being less than threepence per acre per annum. A licence is issued to the selector, who must, within five years, fence in the land or make permanent improvements of a value equal to the cost of the fence, and must also live on the selection. If at the end of that time he can prove that he has performed the above conditions, he will be ent.i.tled to a transferable lease for fifty years. The rent for the first ten years will be the amount as at first fixed, and the rent for every subsequent period of five years will be determined by the Land Board, but the greatest increase that can be made at any re-a.s.sessment is fifty per cent.]

It must not be imagined that this new home of theirs was a land flowing with milk and honey, or that they had nothing earthly to do but till the ground, sow seed, and live happy ever after. Indeed the work to be performed was all earthly, and the milk and honey had all to come.