From Squire to Squatter Part 31

The creek that Bob talked about kicking somebody across was a kind of strath or glen not very far from the steading, and lying below it, green and luxuriant at present. It wound away up and down the country for miles, and in the centre of it was a stream or river or burn, well clothed on its banks with bush, and opening out here and there into little lakes or pools. This stream was--so old Bushmen said--never known to run dry.

In the winter time it would at times well merit the name of river, especially when after a storm a "spate" came down, with a bore perhaps feet high, carrying along in its dreadful rush tree trunks, rocks, pieces of bank--everything, in fact, that came in its way, or attempted to withstand its giant power. "Spates," however, our heroes hoped would come but seldom; for it is sad to see the ruin they make, and to notice afterwards the carcases of sheep and cattle, and even horses, that bestrew the haughs, or banks, and give food to prowling dingoes and birds of the air, especially the ubiquitous crow.

The ordinary state of the water, however, is best described by the word stream or rivulet, while in droughty summers it might dwindle down to a mere burn meandering from pool to pool.

The country all around was plain and forest and rolling hills. It was splendidly situated for grazing of a mixed kind. But our three friends were not to be content with this, and told off the best part of it for future agricultural purposes. Even this was to be but a nucleus, and at this moment much of the land then untilled is yielding abundance of grain.

Not until the place was well prepared for them were cattle bought and brought home. Sheep were not to be thought of for a year or two.

With the cattle, when they began to arrive, Winslow, who was soon to pay the new settlement a visit, sent up a few really good stockmen. And now Archie was to see something of Bush-life in reality.

CHAPTER TWENTY.

RUNAWAY STOCK--BIVOUAC IN THE BUSH-NIGHT SCENE.

Australian cattle have one characteristic in common with some breeds of pigeons, notably with those we call "homers." They have extremely good memories as to localities, and a habit of "making back," as it is termed, to the pastures from which they have been driven. This comes to be very awkward at times, especially if a whole herd decamps or takes "a moonlight flitting."

It would be mere digression to pause to enquire what G.o.d-given instinct it is, that enables half-wild cattle to find their way back to their old homes in as straight a line as possible, even when they have been driven to a new station by circuitous routes. Many other animals have this same homing power; dogs for example, and, to a greater extent, cats.

Swallows and sea-birds, such as the Arctic gull, and the albatross, possess it in a very high degree; but it is still more wonderfully displayed in fur seals that, although dispersed to regions thousands and thousands of miles away during winter, invariably and unerringly find their road back to a tiny group of wave and wind-swept islands, four in number, called the Prybilov group, in the midst of the fog-shrouded sea of Behring. The whole question wants a deal of thinking out, and life is far too short to do it in.

One morning, shortly after the arrival of the first great herd of stock, word was brought to head-quarters that the cattle had escaped by stampede, and were doubtless on their way to the distant station whence they had been bought.

It was no time to ask the question, Who was in fault? Early action was necessary, and was provided for without a moment's hesitation.

I rather think that Archie was glad to have an opportunity of doing a bit of rough riding, and showing off his skill in horse management. He owned what Bob termed a clipper. Not a very handsome horse to look at, perhaps, but fleet enough and strong enough for anything. As sure-footed as a mule was this steed, and as regards wisdom, a perfect equine Solomon.

At a suggestion of Bob's he had been named Tell, in memory of the Tell of other days. Tell had been ridden by Archie for many weeks, so that master and horse knew each other well. Indeed Archie had received a lesson or two from the animal that he was not likely to forget; for one day he had so far forgotten himself as to dig the rowel into Tell's sides, when there was really no occasion to do anything of the sort.

This was more than the horse could stand, and, though he was not an out-and-out buck-jumper, nevertheless, a moment after the stirrup performance, Archie found himself making a voyage of discovery, towards the moon apparently. He descended as quickly almost as he had gone up, and took the ground on his shoulder and cheek, which latter was well skinned. Tell had stood quietly by looking at him, and as Archie patted him kindly, he forgave him on the spot, and permitted a remount.

Archie and Bob hardly permitted themselves to swallow breakfast, so anxious were they to join the stockmen and be off.

As there was no saying when they might return, they did not go unprovided for a night or two out. In front of their saddles were strapped their opossum rugs, and they carried also a tin billy each, and provisions, in the shape of tea, damper, and cooked corned beef; nothing else, save a change of socks and their arms.

Bob bade his wife a hurried adieu, Archie waved his hand, and next minute they were over the paddocks and through the clearings and the woods, in which the trees had been ring-barked, to permit the gra.s.s to grow. And such tall gra.s.s Archie had never before seen as that which grew in some parts of the open.

"Is it going to be a long job, think you, Bob?"

"I hardly know, Archie. But Craig is here."

"Oh, yes, Gentleman Craig, as Mr Winslow insists on calling him! You have seen him."

"Yes; I met him at Brisbane. And a handsome chap he is. Looks like a prince."

"Isn't it strange he doesn't rise from the ranks, as one might say; that he doesn't get on?"

"I'll tell you what keeps him back," said Bob, reining his horse up to a dead stop, that Archie might hear him all the easier.

"I'll tell you what keeps him back now, before you see him. I mustn't talk loud, for the very birds might go and tell the fellow, and he doesn't like to be 'minded about it. He drinks!"

"But he can't get drink in the Bush."

"Not so easily, though he has been known before now to ride thirty miles to visit a hotel."

"A shanty, you mean."

"Well, they call 'em all hotels over here, you must remember."

"And would he just take a drink and come back?"

Bob laughed.

"Heaven help him, no. It isn't one drink, nor ten, nor fifty he takes, for he makes a week or two of it."

"I hope he won't take any such long rides while he is with us."

"No. Winslow says we are sure of him for six months, anyhow. Then he'll go to town and knock his cheque down. But come on, Craig and his lads will be waiting for us."

At the most southerly and easterly end of the selection they met Gentleman Craig himself.

He rode forward to meet them, lifting his broad hat, and reining up when near enough. He did this in a beautifully urbane fashion, that showed he had quite as much respect for himself as for his employers. He was indeed a handsome fellow, and his rough Garibaldian costume fitted him, and set him out as if he had been some great actor.

"This is an awkward business," he began, with an easy smile; "but I think we'll soon catch the runaways up."

"I hope so," Bob said.

"Oh, it was all my fault, because I'm boss of my gang, you know. I ought to have known better, but a small mob of stray beasts got among ours, and by-and-by there was a stampede. It was dirty-dark last night, and looked like a storm, so there wouldn't have been an ounce of use in following them up."

He flicked his long whip half saucily, half angrily, as he spoke.

"Well, never mind," Bob replied, "we'll have better luck next, I've no doubt."

Away they went now at a swinging trot, and on crossing the creek they met Craig's fellows.

They laid their horses harder at it now, Bob and Archie keeping a bit in the rear, though the latter declared that Tell was pulling like a young steam-engine.

"Why," cried Archie at last, "this beast means to pull my arms out at the shoulders. I always thought I knew how to hold the reins till now."

"They have a queer way with them, those bush-ranging horses," said Bob; "but I reckon you'll get up to them at last."

"If I were to give Tell his head, he would soon be in the van."

"In the van? Oh, I see, in the front!"

"Yes; and then I'd be lost. Why these chaps appear to know every inch of the ground. To me it is simply marvellous."