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

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From Squire to Squatter: A Tale of the Old Land and the New Page 36

by Burt L. Standish

todig some potatoes."

  "I'm off, Sarah! I'm off!"

  Both Harry and Archie had by this time become perfect in all asquatter's art.

  Both had grown hard and hardy, and I am not sure that Harry was not nowquite as bold a rider as Archie himself, albeit he was a Cockney born,albeit he had had to rub himself after that first ride of his onScallowa, the "Eider Duck."

  Well, then, both he and Archie were perfectly _au fait_ at cattle workin all its branches, and only those who have lived _on_ and had someinterest _in_ farming have an idea what a vast amount of practical workbreeding cattle includes. One has really to be Jack-of-all-trades, anda veterinary surgeon into the bargain. Moreover, if he be master, andnot merely foreman, there are books to be kept; so he must be a goodaccountant, and a good caterer, and always have his weather eye lifting,and keeping a long lookout for probable changes in the markets.

  But things had prospered well at Burley New Station. One chief reasonof this was that the seasons had been good, and that there was everyprospect that the colony of Queensland was to be one of the mostrespected and favourite in the little island.

  For most of his information on the management of sheep, Archie and hiscompanions were indebted to the head stockman, Gentleman Craig. He hadindeed been a Godsend, and proved himself a blessing to the station. Itis but fair to add that he had sacredly and sternly kept the vow he hadregistered that night.

  He did not deny that it had been difficult for him to do so; in fact heoften referred to his own weakness when talking to Archie, whoseeducation made him a great favourite and the constant companion ofCraig.

  "But you don't feel any the worse for having completely changed yourhabits, do you?" said Archie one day.

  Craig's reply was a remarkable one, and one that should be borne in mindby those teetotallers who look upon inebriety as simply a species ofmoral aberration, and utterly ignore the physiology of the disease.

  "To tell you the truth, Mr Broadbent, I am both better and worse. I ambetter physically; I am in harder, more robust, muscular health; I'm asstrong in the arms as a kicking kangaroo. I eat well, I sleep fairlywell, and am fit in every way. But I feel as if I had passed throughthe vale of the shadow of death, and it had left some of its darkness onand in my soul. I feel as if the cure had mentally taken a deal out ofme; and when I meet, at Brisbane or other towns, men who offer me drinkI feel mean and downcast, because I have to refuse it, and because Idared not even take it as food and medicine. No one can give up habitsof life that have become second nature without mental injury, if notbodily. And I'm more and more convinced every month that intemperanceis a disease of periodicity, just like gout and rheumatism."

  "You have cravings at certain times, then?"

  "Yes; but that isn't the worst. The worst is that periodically in mydreams I have gone back to my old ways, and think I am living once againin the fool's paradise of the inebriate; singing wild songs, drinkingrecklessly, talking recklessly, and looking upon life as but a briefunreality, and upon time as a thing only to be drowned in the wine-cup.Yes, but when I awake from these pleasantly-dreadful dreams, I thank Godfervidly I have been but dreaming."

  Archie sighed, and no more was said on the subject.

  Letters came from home about once a month, but they came to Archie only.Yet, though Bob had never a friend to write to him from Northumbria,nor Harry one in Whitechapel, the advent of a packet from home gavegenuine joy to all hands.

  Archie's letters from home were read first by Archie himself, away outunder the shade of a tree as likely as not. Then they were read to hischums, including Sarah and Diana.

  Diana was the baby.

  But they were not finished with even then. No; for they were hauled outand perused night after night for maybe a week, and then periodicallyfor perhaps another fortnight. There was something new to talk aboutfound in them each time; something suggesting pleasant conversation.

  Archie was often even amused at "his dear old dad's" remarks and advice.He gave as many hints, and planned as many improvements, as though hehad been a settler all his life, and knew everything there was any needto know about the soil and the climate.

  He believed--i.e., the old Squire believed--that if he were only outamong them, he would show even the natives [white men born in the Bush]a thing or two.

  Yes, it was amusing; and after filling about ten or twelveclosely-written pages on suggested improvements, he was sure to finishup somewhat as follows in the postscript:

  "But after all, Archie, my dear boy, you must be very careful in all youdo. Never go like a bull at a gate, lad. Don't forget that I--even I--was not altogether successful at Burley Old Farm."

  "Bless that postscript," Archie would say; "mother comes in there."

  "Does she now?" Sarah would remark, looking interested.

  "Ay, that she does. You see father just writes all he likes first--blows off steam as it were; and mother reads it, and quietly dictates apostscript."

  Then there were Elsie's letters and Rupert's, to say nothing of a notefrom old Kate and a crumpled little enclosure from Branson. Well, inaddition to letters, there was always a bundle of papers, every inch ofwhich was read--even the advertisements, and every paragraph of whichbrought back to Archie and Bob memories of the dear old land they werenever likely to forget.

  CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

  THE STREAM OF LIFE FLOWS QUIETLY ON.

  One day a grand gift arrived from England, being nothing less than acouple of splendid Scotch collies and a pair of Skye terriers. They hadborne the journey wonderfully well, and set about taking stock, andsettling themselves in their new home, at once.

  Archie's pet kangaroo was an object of great curiosity to the Skyes atfirst. On the very second day of their arrival Bobie and Roup, as theywere called, marched up to the kangaroo, and thus addressed him:

  "We have both come to the conclusion that you are something thatshouldn't be."

  "Indeed!" said the kangaroo.

  "Yes; so we're going to let the sawdust out of you."

  "Take that then to begin with!" said Mr Kangaroo; and one of the dogswas kicked clean and clear over a fern bush.

  They drew off after that with their tails well down. They thought theyhad made a mistake somehow. A rabbit that could kick like a young coltwas best left to his own devices.

  The collies never attempted to attack the kangaroo; but when they sawthe droll creature hopping solemnly after Archie, one looked at theother, and both seemed to laugh inwardly.

  The collies were placed under the charge of Craig to be broken to use,for both were young, and the Skyes became the vermin-killers. Theyworked in couple, and kept down the rats far more effectually than everthe cats had done. They used to put dingoes to the rout whenever orwherever they saw them; and as sometimes both these game little animalswould return of a morning severely bitten about the face and ears, itwas evident enough they had gone in for sharp service during the night.

  One curious thing about the Skyes was, that they killed snakes, andalways came dragging home with the loathsome things. This was veryclever and very plucky; nevertheless, a tame laughing jackass that Harryhad in a huge cage was to them a pet aversion. Perhaps the bird knewthat; for as soon as he saw them he used to give vent to a series ofwild, defiant "ha-ha-ha's" and "hee-hee-hee's" that would have laid aghost.

  The improvements on that portion of Burley New Farm more immediatelyadjoining the steading had gone merrily on, and in a year or two, afterfencing and clearing the land, a rough style of agriculture wascommenced. The ploughs were not very first-class, and the horses wereoxen--if I may make an Irish bull. They did the work slowly but well.They had a notion that every now and then they ought to be allowed to goto sleep for five minutes. However, they were easily roused, and justwent on again in a dreamy kind of way.

  The land did not require much coaxing to send up crops of splendidwheat. It was a new-born joy to Bob and Archie to ride along theirpaddocks, and see the wind waving over the
growing grain, making thewhole field look like an inland sea.

  "What would your father say to a sight like that?" said Bob one morningwhile the two were on their rounds.

  "He would start subsoiling ploughs and improve it."

  "I don't know about the improvement, Archie, but I've no doubt he wouldtry. But new land needs little improving."

  "Maybe no; but mind you, Bob, father is precious clever, though I don'thold with all his ways. He'd have steam-ploughs here, and steam-harrowstoo. He'd cut down the grain to the roots by steam-machines, or he'dhave steam-strippers."

  "But you don't think we should go any faster?"

  "Bob, I must confess I like to take big jumps myself. I take after myfather in some things, but after my Scottish ancestors in others. Forinstance, I like to know

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