From Squire to Squatter: A Tale of the Old Land and the New

by Burt L. Standish

flung himself on the grass. It might be rather damp, but hedared not trust his weight and bulk on a lawn-chair.

  "So your friend's going to the Bush, and going to take you with him,eh?"

  Archie's proud soul rebelled against this way of talking, but he saidnothing. It was evident that Mr Winslow looked upon him as a boy.

  "Well, I hope you'll do right both of you. What prospects have you?"

  Archie told him how high his hopes were, and how exalted his notions.

  "Them's your sentiments, eh? Then my advice is this: Pitch 'em alloverboard--the whole jing-bang of them. Your high-flown notions sinkyou English greenhorns. Now, when I all but offered you a positionunder me--"

  "Under your gardener," said Archie, smiling. "Well, it's all the same.I didn't mean to insult your father's son. I wanted to know if you hadthe grit and the go in you."

  "I think I've both, sir. Father--Squire Broadbent--"

  "Squire Fiddlestick!"

  "Sir!"

  "Go on, lad, never mind me. Your father--"

  "My father brought me up to work."

  "Tossing hay, I suppose, raking flower-beds and such. Well, you'll findall this different in Australian Bush-life; it is sink or swim there."

  "Well, I'm going to swim."

  "Bravo, boy!"

  "And now, sir, do you mean to tell me that brains go for nothing in thisland of contrariety?"

  "No," cried Winslow, "no, lad. Goodness forbid I should give you thatimpression. If I had only the gift of the gab, and were a good writer,I'd send stuff to this paper," (here he struck the sheet that lay on thegrass) "that would show men how I felt, and I'd be a member of thelegislature in a year's time. But this is what I say, lad, _Brainswithout legs and arms, and a healthy stomach, are no good here_, or verylittle. We want the two combined; but if either are to be left out, whyleave out the brains. There is many an English youth of gentle birthand good education that would make wealth and honour too in this newland of ours, if he could pocket his pride, don a workman's jacket, andput his shoulder to the wheel. That's it, d'ye see?"

  "I think I do."

  "That's right. Now tell me about your uncle. Dear old man! We neverhad a cross word all the time I sailed with him."

  Archie did tell him all, everything, and even gave him his last letterto read.

  By-and-by Etheldene came back, still leading her exaggerated schoolboy.

  "Sit down, Mr Cooper, on the grass. That's the style."

  "Well," cried Archie, laughing, "if everybody is going to squat on thegrass, so shall I."

  Even Etheldene laughed at this; and when the governess came, andservants with the tea, they found a very happy family indeed.

  After due introductions, Winslow continued talking to Bob.

  "That's it, you see, Mr Cooper; and I'm right glad you've come to mefor advice. What I don't know about settling in Bushland isn't worthknowing, though I say it myself. There are plenty long-headed fellowsthat have risen to riches very quickly, but I believe, lad, the same menwould have made money in their own country. They are the geniuses offinance; fellows with four eyes in their head, and that can look twoways at once. But they are the exception, and the ordinary man needn'texpect such luck, because he won't get it.

  "Now there's yourself, Mr Cooper, and your friend that I haven't seen;you've made a lucky dive at the fields, and you're tired ofgold-digging. I don't blame you. You want to turn farmer in earnest.On a small scale you are a capitalist. Well, mind, you're going to playa game, in which the very first movement may settle you for good orevil.

  "Go to Brisbane. Don't believe the chaps here. Go straight away up,and take time a bit, and look round. Don't buy a pig in a poke.Hundreds do. There's a lot of people whose interest is to sell A1claims, and a shoal of greenhorns with capital who want to buy. Nowlisten. Maybe not one of these have any experience. They seespeculation in each other's eyes; and if one makes a grab, the otherwill try to be before him, and very likely the one that lays hold ishoisted. Let me put it in another way. Hang a hook, with a nice pieceof pork on it, overboard where there are sharks. Everyone would likethe pork, but everyone is shy and suspicious. Suddenly a shark, withmore speculation in his eye than the others, prepares for a rush, andrather than he shall have it all the rest do just the same, and thelucky one gets hoisted. It's that way with catching capitalists. So Isay again, Look before you leap. Don't run after bargains. They may begood, but--This young fellow here has some knowledge of English farming.Well, that is good in its way, very good; and he has plenty of muscle,and is willing to work, that is better. If he were all alone, I'd tellhim to go away to the Bush and shear sheep, build fences, and drivecattle for eighteen months, and keep his eyes wide open, and his earstoo, and he'd get some insight into business. As it is, you're allgoing together, and you'll all have a look at things. You'll see whatsort of stock the country is suited for--sheep, or cattle, or both; ifit is exposed, or wet, or day, or forest, or all together. And you'llfind out if it be healthy for men and stock, and not `sour' for either;and also you'll consider what markets are open to you. For there'd besmall use in rearing stock you couldn't sell. See?"

  "Yes," said Bob; "I see a lot of difficulties in the way I hadn'tthought of."

  "Go warily then, and the difficulties will vanish. I think I'll go withyou to Brisbane," added Winslow, after a pause. "I'm getting sickalready of civilised life."

  Etheldene threw her arms round her father's neck.

  "Well, birdie, what is it? 'Fraid I go and leave you too long?"

  "You mustn't leave me at all, father. I'm sometimes sick of civilisedlife. I'm going with you wherever you go."

  That same evening after dinner, while Etheldene was away somewhere withher new friend--showing him, I think, how to throw the boomerang--Winslow and Archie sat out in the verandah looking at the stars whilethey sipped their coffee.

  Winslow had been silent for a time, suddenly he spoke.

  "I'm going to ask you a strange question, youngster," he said.

  "Well, sir?" said Archie.

  "Suppose I were in a difficulty, from what you have seen of me would youhelp me out if you could?"

  "You needn't ask, sir," said Archie. "My uncle's friend."

  "Well, a fifty-pound note would do it."

  Archie had his uncle's draft still with him. He never said a word tillhe had handed it to Winslow, and till this eccentric individual hadcrumpled it up, and thrust it unceremoniously, and with only a grunt ofthanks, into one of his capacious pockets.

  "But," said Archie, "I would rather you would not look upon it as aloan. In fact, I am doubting the evidence of my senses. You--with allthe show of wealth I see around me--to be in temporary need of a poor,paltry fifty pounds! Verily, sir, this is the land of contrarieties."

  Winslow simply laughed.

  "You have a lot to learn yet," he said, "my young friend; but I admireyour courage, and your generous-heartedness, though not your businesshabits."

  Archie and Bob paid many a visit to Wistaria Grove--the name ofWinslow's place--during the three weeks previous to the start fromSydney.

  One day, when alone with Archie, Winslow thrust an envelope into hishands.

  "That's your fifty pounds," he said. "Why, count it, lad; don't stow itaway like that. It ain't business."

  "Why," said Archie, "here are three hundred pounds, not fifty pounds!"

  "It's all yours, lad, every penny; and if you don't put it up I'll putit in the fire."

  "But explain."

  "Yes, nothing more easy. You mustn't be angry. No? Well, then, Iknew, from all accounts, you were a chip o' the old block, and there wasno use offending your silly pride by offering to lend you money to buy amorsel of claim, so I simply borrowed yours and put it out for you."

  "Put it out for me?"

  "Yes, that's it; and the money is honestly increased. Bless yourinnocence! I could double it in a week. It is making the firstthousand pounds that is the diffi
culty in this country of contrarieties,as you call it."

  When Archie told Bob the story that evening, Bob's answer was:

  "Well, lad, I knew Winslow was a good-hearted fellow the very first dayI saw him. Never you judge a man by his clothes, Archie."

  "First impressions certainly _are_ deceiving," said Archie; "and I'mlearning something new every day of my life."

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  "I am going round to Melbourne for a week or two, boys," said Winslowone day. "Which of you will come with me?"

  "I'll stop here," said Bob, "and stick to business. You had better go,Archie."

  "I would like to, if--if I could afford it."

  "Now, just look here, young man, you stick that eternal English pride ofyours in your pocket. I ask you to come with me as a guest, and if yourefuse I'll throw you overboard. And if, during our journey, I catchyou taking your pride, or your purse either, out of your pocket, I'llnever speak another word to you as long as I live."

  "All right," said Archie, laughing; "that settles it. Is Etheldenegoing too?"

  "Yes, the child is going. She won't stay away from her old dad. Shehasn't a mother, poor thing."

  Regarding Archie's visit to Victoria, we must let him speak himselfanother time; for the scene of our story must now shift.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

  BOOK III--IN THE WILD INTERIOR.

  "IN THIS NEW LAND OF OURS."

  There was something in the glorious lonesomeness of Bush-life thataccorded most completely with Archie's notions of true happiness andindependence. His life now, and the lives of all the three, would besimply what they chose to make them. To use the figurative language ofthe New Testament, they had "taken hold of the plough," and theycertainly had no intention of "looking back."

  Archie felt (this too is figurative) as the mariner may be supposed tofeel just leaving his native shore to sail away over the broad, theboundless ocean to far-off lands. His hand is on the tiller; the shoreis receding; his eye is aloft, where the sails are bellying out beforethe wind. There is hardly a sound, save the creaking of the blocks, orrattle of the rudder chains, the joyous ripple of the water, and thescreaming of the sea-birds, that seem to sing their farewells. Awayahead is the blue horizon and the heaving sea, but he has faith in hisgood barque, and faith in his own skill and judgment, and for the timebeing he is a Viking; he is "monarch of all he surveys."

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

  There was something of the Robinson Crusoe element in Archie's presentmode of living, for he and his friends had to rough it in the samedelightfully primitive fashion. They had to know and to practise alittle 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 allthe time like playing at being a man.

  But how am I to account for the happiness--nay, even joyfulness--thatappeared to be infused in the young man's very blood and soul? Nay, notappeared to be only, but that actually was--a joyfulness whose effectscould at times be actually felt in his very frame and muscle like aproud thrill, that made his steps and tread elastic, and caused him togaily sing to himself as he went about at his work. May I try toexplain this by a little homely experiment, which you yourself may alsoperform? See, here then I have a small disc of zinc, no larger than acoat button, and I have also a shilling-piece. I place the former on mytongue, and the latter between my lower lip and gum, and lo! the momentI permit the two metallic edges to touch I feel a tingling thrill, andif my eyes be shut I perceive a flash as well. It is electricitypassing through the bodily medium--my tongue. The one coin becomes _enrapport_, so to speak, with the other. So in like manner was Archie'ssoul within him _en rapport_ with all the light, the life, the love hesaw around him, his body being but the wholesome, healthy, solid medium.

  _En rapport_ with the light. Why, by day this was everywhere--in thesky during its midday blue brightness; in the clouds so gorgeouslypainted that lay over the hills at early morning, or over the woodedhorizon near eventide. _En rapport_ with the light dancing andshimmering in the pool down yonder; playing among the wild flowers thatgrew everywhere in wanton luxuriance; flickering through the tree-tops,despite the trailing creepers; gleaming through the tender greens offern fronds in cool places; sporting with the strange fantastic, butbrightly-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? Inthe air, where myriads of insects dance and buzz and sing and poisehawk-like above flowers, as if inhaling their sweetness, or dart hitherand thither in their zigzag course, and almost with the speed oflightning; where monster beetles go droning lazily round, as ifuncertain where to alight; where moths, like painted fans, hover in thesunshine, or fold their wings and go to sleep on flower-tops. In theforests, where birds, like animated blossoms, living chips of dazzlingcolours, hop from boughs, climb stems, run along silvery bark on trees,hopping, jumping, tapping, talking, chattering, screaming, with billsthat move and throats that heave even when their voices cannot be heardin the feathered babel. Life on the ground, where thousands of busybeetles creep, or play hide-and-seek among the stems of tall grass, andwhere ants innumerable go in search of what they somehow never seem tofind. Life on the water slowly sailing round, or in and out among thereeds, in the form of bonnie velvet ducks and pretty spangled teal.Life in the water, where shoals of fish dart hither and thither, or restfor a moment in shallows to bask in the sun, their bodies all a-quiverwith enjoyment. Life in the sky itself, high up. Behold that splendidflock of wonga-wonga pigeons, with bronzen wings, that seem to shake thesunshine off them in showers of silver and gold, or, lower down, thatmob of snowy-breasted cockatoos, going somewhere to do something, nodoubt, and making a dreadful din about it, but quite a sight, if onlyfrom the glints of lily and rose that appear in the white of theiroutstretched 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 yourclothes being torn from your back, you might listen to the soft murmurof the doves that stand by their nests in the green gloom of fig trees;you would linger long to note the love passages taking place among thecosy wee, bright, and bonnie parrakeets; you would observe the hawkflying silently, sullenly, home to his castle in the inaccessibleheights of the gum trees, but you would go quickly past the forest densof lively cockatoos. For everywhere it is spring with birds and beasts.They have dressed in their gayest; they have assumed their fondestnotes and cries; they live and breathe and buzz in an atmosphere ofhappiness 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 ghostof an intention to moralise, I must be permitted to say, that the youthwho finds an undoubted pleasure in working is sure to get on inAustralia. There is that in the clear, pure, dry air of the back Bushwhich renders inactivity an impossibility to anyone exceptne'er-do-wells and born idiots. This is putting it strongly, but it isalso putting it truthfully.

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

  If the Winslows had not been among the passengers he certainly wouldhave given vent to a sigh or two.

  All for the sake of sweet little Etheldene? Yes, for her sake. Was shenot going to be Rupert's wife, and his own second sister? Oh, he had itall nicely arranged, all cut and dry, I can assure you!

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

  They entered. It was like entering a gloomy vault. Nothing wasaltered. There stood the rows on rows of dusty bottles, with theirdingy gilt labels; the dusty mahogany drawers; the morsel of railingeddesk with its curtain of dirty red; there were the murky windows withtheir bottles of crusted yellows and reds; and up there the identicalspider still working away at his dismal web, still living in hopesapparently of some day being able to catch a fly.

  The melancholy-looking new apprentice, who had doubtless paid the newpremium, a long lantern-jawed lad with great eyes in hollow sockets, anda 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 nothelp 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 feltsorry for him.

  Just then,