bit of bravado in that ringing air, bold and all though it is.Yet every line tells of British ardour and determination--ardour that nothoughts of home or love can cool, determination that no danger candaunt.
"Cheer, boys, cheer." The last rays of the setting sun were lighting upthe Cornish cliffs, on which so few in that good ship would ever againset eyes, when those around the forecastle-head took up the song.
"Cheer, boys, cheer." Listen! Those on the quarterdeck join in thechorus, sinking in song all difference of class and rank. And theyjoin, too, in that rattling "Three times three" that bids farewell toEngland.
Then the crimson clouds high up in the west change to purple and brown,the sea grows grey, and the distant shore becomes slaty blue. Soon thestars peep out, and the passengers cease to tramp about, and find theirway below to the cosily-lighted saloon.
Archie is sitting on a sofa quite apart from all the others. The songis still ringing in his head, and, if the whole truth must be told, hefeels just a trifle down-hearted. He cannot quite account for this,though he tries to, and his thoughts are upon the whole somewhatrambling. They would no doubt be quite connected if it were not for thedistracting novelty of all his present surroundings, which are asutterly different from anything he has hitherto become acquainted withas if he had suddenly been transported to another planet.
No, he cannot account for being dull. Perhaps the motion of the shiphas something to do with it, though this is not a very romantic way ofputting it. Archie has plenty of moral courage; and as the shipencountered head winds, and made a long and most difficult passage downthrough the Irish Sea, he braced himself to get over his morsel of _malde mer_, and has succeeded.
He is quite cross with himself for permitting his mind to be tinged withmelancholy. That song ought to have set him up.
"Why should we weep to sail in search of fortune?"
Oh, Archie is not weeping; catch him doing anything so girlish andpeevish! He would not cry in his cabin where he could do so withoutbeing seen, and it is not likely he would permit moisture to appear inhis eyes in the saloon here. Yet his home never did seem to him sodelightful, so cosy, so happy, as the thoughts of it do now. Why had henot loved it even more than he did when it was yet all around him? Thedear little green parlour, his gentle lady mother that used to knit soquietly by the fire in the winter's evenings, listening with pleasure tohis father's daring schemes and hopeful plans. His bonnie sister,Elsie, so proud of him--Archie; Rupert, with his pale, classical faceand gentle smile; matter-of-fact Walton; jolly old Uncle Ramsay. Theyall rose up before his mind's eye as they had been; nay but as theymight be even at that very moment. And the room in the tower, theevenings spent there in summer when daylight was fading over the hillsand woods, and the rooks flying wearily home to their nests in theswaying elm trees; or in winter when the fire burned brightly on thehearth, and weird old Kate sat in her high-backed chair, telling herstrange old-world stories, with Branson, wide-eyed, fiddle in hand, on aseat near her, and Bounder--poor Bounder--on the bear's skin. Then thebig kitchen, or servants' hall--the servants that all loved "masterArchie" so dearly, and laughed and enjoyed every prank he used to play.
Dear old Burley! should he ever see it again? A week has not passedsince he left it, and yet it seems and feels a lifetime.
He was young a week ago; now he is old, very old--nearly a man. Nearly?Well, nearly, in years; in thoughts, and feelings, and circumstanceseven--_quite_ a man. But then he should not feel down-hearted for thissimple reason; he had left home under such bright auspices. Many boysrun away to sea. The difference between their lot and his is indeed awide one. Yes, that must be very sad. No home life to look back upon,no friends to think of or love, no pleasant present, no hopeful future.
Then Archie, instead of letting his thoughts dwell any longer on thepast, began at once to bridge over for himself the long period of timethat must elapse ere he should return to Burley Old Farm. Of coursethere would be changes. He dared say Walton would be away; but Elsieand Rupert would still be there, and his father and mother, lookingperhaps a little older, but still as happy. And the burnedfarm-steading would be restored, or if it were not, it soon should beafter he came back; for he would be rich, rolling in wealth in fact, ifhalf the stories he had heard of Australia were true, even allowing that_all_ the streets were not paved with gold, and _all_ the houses notroofed with sparkling silver.
So engrossed was he with these pleasant thoughts, that he had notobserved the advent of a passenger who had entered the saloon, and satquietly down on a camp-stool near him. A man of about forty, dressed ina rough pilot suit of clothes, with a rosy weather-beaten but pleasantface, and a few grey hairs in his short black beard.
He was looking at Archie intently when their eyes met, and the boy feltsomewhat abashed. The passenger, however, did not remove his glanceinstantly; he spoke instead.
"You've never been to sea before, have you?"
"No, sir; never been off the land till a week ago."
"Going to seek your fortune?"
"Yes; I'm going to _make_ my fortune."
"Bravo! I hope you will."
"What's to hinder me?"
"Nothing; oh, nothing much! Everybody doesn't though. But you seem tohave a bit of go in you."
"Are you going to make yours?" said Archie.
The stranger laughed.
"No," he replied. "Unluckily, perhaps, mine was made for me. I've beenout before too, and I'm going again to see things."
"You're going in quest of adventure?"
"I suppose that is really it. That is how the story-books put it,anyhow. But I don't expect to meet with adventures like Sinbad theSailor, you know; and I don't think I would like to have a little oldman of the sea with his little old legs round my neck."
"Australia is a very wonderful place, isn't it?"
"Yes; wonderfully wonderful. Everything is upside-down there, you know.To begin with, the people walk with their heads downwards. Some of thetrees are as tall as the moon, and at certain seasons of the year thebark comes tumbling off them like rolls of shoeleather. Others areshaped like bottles, others again have heads of waving grass, and othershave ferns for tops. There are trees, too, that drop all their leavesto give the flowers a chance; and these are so brilliantly red, and sonumerous, that the forest where they grow looks all on fire. Well, manyof the animals walk or jump on two legs, instead of running on four.Does that interest you?"
"Yes. Tell me something more about birds."
"Well, ducks are everywhere in Australia, and many kinds are as big asgeese. They seem to thrive. And ages ago, it is said by the natives,the moles in Australia got tired of living in the dark, and held ameeting above-ground, and determined to live a different mode of life.So they grew longer claws, and short, broad, flat tails, and bills likeducks, and took to the water, and have been happy ever since.
"Well, there are black swans in abundance; and though it is two or threeyears since I was out last, I cannot forget a beautiful bird, somethingbetwixt a pheasant and peacock, and the cock's tail is his especialdelight. It is something really to be proud of, and at a distance lookslike a beautiful lyre, strings and all. The cockatoos swarm around thetrees, and scream and laugh at the lyre-bird giving himself airs, but Idaresay this is all envy. The hen bird is not a beauty, but her chiefdelight is to watch the antics and attitudes of her lord and master ashe struts about making love and fun to her time about, at one momentsinging a kind of low, sweet song, at another mocking every sound thatis heard in the forest, every noise made by man or bird or beast. Nowonder the female lyre-bird thinks her lord the cleverest and mostbeautiful creature in the world!
"Then there is a daft-looking kingfisher, all head and bill, andwondering eyes, who laughs like a jackass, and makes you laugh to hearhim laugh. So loud does he laugh at times that his voice drowns everyother sound in the forest.
"There is a bird eight feet high, partly cassowary, partly ostrich, thatwhen attacked kicks li
ke a horse, or more like a cow, because it kickssideways. But if I were to sit here till our good ship reached theCape, I could not tell you about half the curious, beautiful, andridiculous creatures and things you will find in Australia if you movemuch about. I do think that that country beats all creation for thegorgeousness of its wild birds and wild flowers; and if things do seem abit higgledy-piggledy at first, you soon settle down to it, and soontire wondering at anything.
"But," continued the stranger, "with all their peculiarities, the birdsand beasts are satisfied with their get-up, and pleased with theirsurroundings, although all day long in the forests the cockatoos, andparrots, and piping crows, and lyre-birds do little else but joke andchaff one another because they all look so comical.
"Yes, lad, Australia you will
From Squire to Squatter: A Tale of the Old Land and the New Page 15