Pool of St. Branok

by Philippa Carr

  But our stay was brief. I told the Captain that was a matter of great regret. He smiled at me and said: “The object, my dear young lady, is to get you to Melbourne as fast as we can. We stop at these places only to load stores.”

  Gervaise said: “It is probably as well that our stays are brief. It makes us appreciate it all the more.”

  He was determined to enjoy every moment and I wondered briefly whether in his heart he doubted whether we would come out with the gold which would change our fortunes and how he would adapt to the life of a miner. If he did he never showed it. I had learned a great deal about him since our marriage but there was still a great deal to discover.

  I remember Durban—the capital of Natal—which had recently become a British colony. It was a very beautiful town right on the coast and there was something very exciting in the sight of the waves breaking on the shore.

  But perhaps what makes that time stand out so vividly in my memory was what happened aboard.

  I had thought Morwenna looked a little tired and when we returned to our cabins she said she would lie down. I had a feeling that there was something on her mind and I sought an early opportunity of talking to her.

  That opportunity came after we had left Durban, from which we sailed at midnight. We were sitting on deck together. The sea was calm; there was not even a ripple on the water; it was the color of translucent jade with here and there a touch of aquamarine.

  I glanced at her sideways; she was pale and there were shadows under her eyes.

  “Morwenna,” I said, “is something wrong?”

  “No, no,” she replied sharply. “What should be?”

  “I thought you looked a little … strained.”

  “Strained? You mean tired?”

  “Yes … as if something is worrying you.”

  She was silent for a few moments, then she said: “I’m very happy, Angelet. I don’t think I have ever been so happy. The only thing that makes it less perfect is that Ma and Pa are not here. I think they were very worried about my going.”

  “Naturally they would be uneasy. They have adored you all your life. But it is always like that with families. The children grow up and marry and lead their own lives. I daresay my parents felt the same as yours.”

  “I know.”

  “That isn’t what is worrying you.”

  “I’m not worried, Angelet, I’m very happy.”

  “Then what are you trying to tell me?”

  “I thought you might guess. I am going to have a baby.”

  “Morwenna!”

  “Yes.” She was smiling. “I think it is what I have always wanted. A little baby … all my own … and Justin’s too.”

  “What does Justin say?”

  “He doesn’t know. That’s what makes me a little worried. That strain you detected. I am a little anxious. He is so enjoying all this. I didn’t want to spoil it for him.”

  “Do you think he would not want a child?”

  “Oh no … He hasn’t said anything like that. But you see we are going to this new country and we don’t know what we are going to find. He would be worried about me … and the baby.”

  “That will be all right. They have midwives there and doctors surely.”

  “Yes, I suppose so.”

  “It’s wonderful. Oh, Morwenna, I can’t imagine you with a baby. You make me feel envious.”

  “I suppose you’ll have a baby one day.”

  “Yes, I suppose so. And Justin doesn’t know?”

  “Not yet. You see, I knew before we left. At least I suspected. I thought if I told anyone it might spoil things. Mother and Pa would have put their feet down firmly and my father can be very persistent when he wants to. They would never have let me come away if they had known. They would have wanted me to go back to Pencarron and have the child.”

  “Well, I can understand that.”

  “Justin would have been so worried. He had to go on this venture. I knew it. He is so enthusiastic … so sure that it is going to make our fortunes.”

  “Just like Gervaise.”

  “You would have done the same if you had been in my position, Angelet.”

  “Yes, I suppose I might. But there is no need to keep it secret any longer. You’re here on this ship. It isn’t going to make any difference now. We are going on.”

  “Yes,” she said. “But I don’t want to worry Justin.”

  “He has got to share in this. Besides, you ought to be taking special care, oughtn’t you? We shall have to cosset you a bit now.”

  “I’m so glad you know.”

  “I reckon we should tell the men.”

  “All right. Let’s do that. I’ll tell Justin first … when we are alone.”

  “And have I your permission to tell Gervaise?”

  “Of course.”

  When I told him he was amused. “Well, fancy that,” he said. “She’s stolen a march on us.”

  “She is very happy about the baby. She is so good and unselfish. She doesn’t think about going into what might well prove to be a primitive place. All she thought about was spoiling Justin’s pleasure in all this.”

  “Yes, she’s a good girl. Justin is lucky. We are both lucky.” That evening we celebrated. Justin was delighted; and I had never seen Morwenna so happy. Her first thought was that no one at home should know until the baby was born, for she was sure her parents would be very worried at the thought of her far from home at such a time.

  There was another occasion during that voyage that I remembered well. It was after we had left Bombay. We had had only one day ashore but we had made the most of it. The heat had been intense, but we had been enchanted by the city, yet depressed by the multitude of beggars who surrounded us. Gervaise had quickly given away all the money he had brought out with him and for the rest of the day he cheerfully borrowed from the rest of us. We bought some beautiful silk materials and ebony elephants and some exquisite carved ivory.

  It had been a most exciting day and that evening we dined with the Captain.

  He loved to talk and was something of a raconteur. He had a pleasant custom of dining with most of the passengers during the voyage, and always at his table there was a great deal of gossip and laughter. Gervaise said he probably told the same stories over and over again; and that was why he liked to change the company.

  That night he was in a reminiscent mood.

  He said: “Well, we shall not be so very long now. Soon we shall be reaching our destination and I shall have to say goodbye to all you charming people.”

  We all said how we had enjoyed the voyage.

  “It is an adventure in itself … the first time. Of course when I consider the number of times I have sailed between the Old Country and Australia … well, to tell the truth, I find it hard to remember how many.”

  “It must have made you somewhat blasé,” I commented.

  “Not as far as people are concerned. It is amazing how different people are. No voyage is ever like another … and it is all because of the people. I know you don’t intend to settle in Australia. We get quite a number of passengers who are doing just that. I suppose it is just a visit for you. Are you visiting relations?”

  Gervaise said: “We shall have a look at the goldfields.”

  “Ah yes. We have had many coming out for that. Only of course the fever has died down a little lately. To what part are you going?”

  “It’s some miles north of Melbourne. A place called Golden Creek.”

  “Oh, that’s Lansdon country.”

  “Lansdon country?” I stammered.

  “That’s what they call it. Chap named Benedict Lansdon made a bit of a stir there a few years back. He’s a sort of big white chief in the neighborhood.”

  “We are going to see him. He’s a … connection of mine.”

  “Oh well, you’ll be in the best company with Ben Lansdon. Couldn’t be in better hands.”

  “Do you know him?”

  “Everyone thereabouts knows Be
n Lansdon.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, he’s made a bit of a name for himself. They think a great deal of him out there. It was rather like the Eureka Stockade affair all over again.”

  “What was that all about?” asked Gervaise.

  “I suppose that sort of news wouldn’t get to the Old Country. Or if it did it would just be a few lines on the back page of the newspaper. It was all over Melbourne. Peter Lalor was a sort of hero in that affair. It was miners against the government and it was the miners who really won in the end. Well, Ben Lansdon is another Peter Lalor. He’s one of those natural leaders. He took charge and things got sorted out … so to speak. He’s quite a name in the district.”

  I felt a certain glow of pride. I was remembering him as he had been when he arrived at Cador. He had been different then from anyone I had ever known. I had admired him so much, adored him would be a more apt way of putting it. But in those days of my youth I had set up idols: my father; Jonnie; Ben. Yes, I was an idol worshiper. But then that affair at the pool had changed everything and Ben had gone and I had been left to face it alone.

  The Captain settled down to tell the tale. He loved an audience and on this occasion he had a very attentive one.

  “You see,” he said, “men were rushing out to find gold. People had been finding it for years and then … what would it be? … must have been in the early fifties I think when they found gold in New South Wales. Then at Ballarat near Melbourne someone found six hundred ounces in a couple of days … and that was it. People were scrabbling frantically for gold. Some found it. All over Victoria they were coming across gold. My father’s place was nearby. He’s often told me how the place changed overnight. All over the country little townships were springing up. They even had the odd hotel. Not the classy establishments they have at home, but good enough for miners who weren’t looking for fancy living. They had one thing in mind: gold. Men were coming out by the thousands. When you’ve mined a certain spot for a few years the gold can run out. There is not an inexhaustible supply. There was a lot of hardship. Some would be working for weeks and months and finding nothing. To my mind the government wanted to put a stop to the fever so they started to charge people a license to dig. The more hardships there seemed to be, the higher were the fees. You see, what was wanted was to get people back to the towns, to put a stop to this search for gold which was not there.”

  “But they wouldn’t accept that,” said Gervaise. “They had come out for gold and naturally that was what they were going to try for.”

  “All very well,” went on the Captain, “if it is there. But that was what the government was thinking. But if they were finding nothing how could they pay this money to the government? They got together and this Peter Lalor … he was a sort of leader.”

  “Like Ben Lansdon,” I said.

  “Oh, it was before he was around. I’m taking you back ten years or more. All I said was that Ben was another like Lalor. They always come out when the time is ripe. Well, the government sent an order. There was to be an inspection of licenses and all those who hadn’t got them would have to leave the goldfields. You can imagine what they said to that!”

  “But how could they fight the government?” asked Justin.

  “I’ll tell you how. Lalor rallied the men. They knew that the officials were coming to inspect licenses, so they built a stockade. You must have heard of the Eureka Stockade. So they were ready and when the government men came for the inspection all those who had licenses for which they had paid much less than was now being asked, threw them out before the stockade and burned them.”

  “I suppose,” said Justin, “the licenses had to be renewed and it was the expensive renewal that they objected to.”

  “That must have been about it,” said the Captain. “Well, you know how these things go. The action of a little group of miners became a great rebellion. The government had to bring in the army. The miners stood firm by the stockade and over it they flew their flag. You’ll be seeing that flag a good deal, I should imagine. It’s flown on every goldfield in Victoria. It has a blue background showing the stars of the Southern Cross in white. We call it the Eureka Flag.”

  “Who won?” asked Gervaise.

  “The miners were outnumbered, as you can guess … three to one in fact, so the tale goes. There were seventy men, but they were brave men and they were fighting for what they thought was right. They were quickly subdued but there were losses on both sides.”

  “So the rising was in vain,” said Justin.

  “Not really. The government naturally had to show the miners that they couldn’t make their own laws, but on the other hand they did not want people rising up like that all over the country. You could say that the men of the Eureka Stockade won in the long run. Before the year was out the law was changed. There was no inspection of licenses. The Victorian government decided that it would dissociate itself from the miners. It was victory really because it was what they had been fighting for. Lalor, the leader of the revolt, went into the Victorian parliament. He is now one of its most respected members. What started all this was your mention of Ben Lansdon. He is just such another Peter Lalor.”

  “He was a great man,” I said.

  “He was a leader,” went on the Captain. “There are men born to be such.”

  “And Ben Lansdon is another?”

  “I’d say that and no one could say otherwise … after the way he’s taken over Golden Creek.”

  “Has he found lots of gold?”

  “My dear young lady, nobody—not even Ben Lansdon—can find gold where it is not.”

  Justin put in: “Do you mean to say there is no more gold in Golden Creek?”

  “Who can say? When the Rush started men were finding it day after day, but, as I’ve told you, the supply runs out … or they are looking in the wrong place. I don’t think there have been any big finds in Golden Creek in the last ten years or so.”

  “And you say it is Ben Lansdon’s country,” I persisted.

  “Well, he’s got his men working for him. You see, there are some who would rather work for a weekly wage than have nothing but hope for the odd find. That’s men with families mostly. You can’t feed a family on hope. So Lansdon … well, he’s not the sort who would want to do hard labor … and believe me working a mine is just that … so he gets other people to do it for him.”

  “But what does he do?”

  “He’s right at the heart of things. He’s at his mine every day. He watches how everything is going. True, there is a yield. But it is just about enough to keep things going. He did have some luck earlier on … enough to build a house for himself and bring a little of Old Country-type comfort into his life. He’s done a lot for the place. He keeps a sort of law and order. Men out there can get a bit rough with each other when day after day they are looking for luck which doesn’t come. Somebody said ‘Hope deferred makes the heart sick’ and that’s true enough. Oh yes, Ben’s done a lot for Golden Creek. He’s the King of the place, that’s what. It suits him. He’s a born leader, and leaders like to lead … to rule if you like.”

  I felt a great longing to see him. Forgotten memories of the times we had spent together came back to me; those occasions which had been overshadowed by the incident of the pool, so that for a long time I had failed to remember all the interesting talks we had had; and how important it had been to me then.

  Gervaise said: “I can’t wait to see this hero.”

  When we were alone that night, he said: “The Captain is obviously a great admirer of your Ben, who is evidently a very forceful character. How do you feel about seeing him again?”

  “I don’t quite know.”

  “Will it bring it all back … that time …?”

  “I expect so. But, Gervaise, you have made me see that we couldn’t have done anything else.”

  “I expect this leader of men has long realized that. I feel pretty sure that he will have forgotten all about it long ago.”

/>   “Does one ever forget such a thing?”

  He took my face in his hands and kissed it tenderly.

  “You might not, Angelet, but I’d bet that Ben has.”

  I nodded.

  And I thought: Perhaps I shall soon find out.

  I recognized him on the quay as soon as we arrived.

  He was very tall and he seemed leaner than I remembered. His hair was so bleached by the sun that it seemed almost white against his bronzed skin; and his eyes were a brilliant blue; they were creased at the corners as though against the sun; and he had an authoritative air about him.

  He saw us at once and came striding towards us.

  “It’s Angel,” he cried. “I’d have known you anywhere. You’ve grown up, though, since I last saw you.”

  I was laughing. I said: “You too, Ben.”

  He put his arms round me and hugged me. He grinned at Gervaise whom he had decided must be my husband. “We’re old friends,” he said, as though apologizing for his exuberant and familiar welcome.

  “I know,” replied Gervaise with his charming smile. “I’ve heard a great deal about you from Angelet and this is Justin Cartwright and his wife Morwenna.”

  “Pleased you’ve come,” said Ben. “I reckon you’ll need a day or so in Melbourne before you come out to the Creek. I’ve booked you in at the Lord Melbourne. The baggage can go to the hotel. I expect you have brought quite a bit. I can arrange to have it all sent onto the Creek.”

  “Oh, Ben,” I said, “you are so good to us.”

  The others agreed.

  “It’s nothing,” he answered. “I’m glad you’ve joined the company. I can tell you we’re starved of news of Home. The whole community is looking forward to your arrival. But now let’s get you to the hotel and I’ll tell you what arrangements have been made.”

  We were put in what I learned was called a buggy, and passing through streets where I glimpsed some pleasant-looking houses we had soon arrived at the hotel.

  We were taken to a reception desk where a lady in black presided. I caught a glimpse of men sitting at tables drinking and others at a bar.

  We were at length led up a wide staircase and along a corridor to rooms which looked out on the street below. Our room had an alcove in which were washing necessities, and we were agreeably surprised.