The Book of the Bush Part 3

He fell from his horse, and although he begged hard for his life, the man beat out his brains with the gun. The murderer took all the money Wilson had, which was only one five-pound note, the number of which Raibey knew. A woman tried to pa.s.s it in Launceston, and her statements led to the discovery and conviction of the murderer, who was hanged in chains at the White Hills, and the gibbet remained there for many years.

WHALING.

"I wish I were in Portland Bay, Oh, yes, Oh!

Harpooning whales on a thirtieth lay, A hundred years ago."

In the year 1837, J. B. Mills had charge of the Portland Fishery, and Davy went with him in the 'Thistle' schooner as mate and navigator, and they were over a month on the pa.s.sage. Charles Mills was second in command at the station at Portland, and Peter Coakley, an Irishman, was third; the remainder of the crew required for whaling was on board the 'Thistle'. Among them was one named McCann, a Sydney native, a stonemason by trade, and father of the McCann who was afterwards member of Parliament for Geelong. During a westerly gale the schooner ran to Western Port for shelter. In sailing through the Rip, McCann, who was acting as steward, while going aft to the cabin, had to cross over a colonial sofa which was lashed on deck. Instead of stepping over it gently, he made a jump, and the vessel lurching at the same time, he went clean overboard. Davy, who was standing by the man at the helm, told him to put the helm down and let the vessel come to. He then ran forward and got a steer-oar from underneath the boots, and threw it overboard. McCann, being an expert swimmer, swam to the oar, a boat was launched, four men got into it, picked him up, and brought him aboard again none the worse.

There was too much sea on to hoist in the boat, as there were no davits, and while she was being towed in she ran ahead of the vessel, which went over her and filled her with water. On arriving in Western Port the boat was found to have been not much damaged. There was on board the 'Thistle' an apprentice whom Davy had stolen in Sydney after he had served four years of his time to a boat-builder named Green. This apprentice repaired the boat, which afterwards proved to be the fastest out of forty-one boats that went out whaling in Portland Bay every morning.

There were in 1837 eight parties of whalers in Portland Bay, and so many whales were killed that the business from that year declined and became unprofitable. Mills' party in the 'Thistle' schooner, of which Davy was mate and navigator, or nurse to Mills, who was not a trained seaman, had their station at Single Corner; Kelly's party was stationed at the neck of land where the breakwater has been constructed. Then there were Dutton's party, with the barque 'African'; Nicholson's, with the barque 'Cheviot', from Hobarton; Chamberlain's, with the barque 'William the Fourth', of Hobarton; the 'Hope' barque, and a brig, both from Sydney. The Hentys also had a whaling station at Double Corner, and by offering to supply their men with fresh meat three times a week, obtained the pick of the whalers.

Their head men were Johnny Brennan, John Moles, and Jim Long, natives of Sydney or Tasmania, and all three good whalers.

When the 'Thistle' arrived at Portland Bay every other party had got nearly one hundred tuns of oil each, and Mills' party had none. He started out next morning, choosing the boat which had picked up McCann at Western Port, and killed one whale, which turned out six tuns of oil. He did not get any more for three weeks, being very unlucky. After getting the schooner ready for cutting in, Davy went to steer the boat for Charles Mills, and always got in a mess among the whales, being either capsized or stove in among so many boats.

At the end of three weeks Captain Mills got a whale off the second river, halfway round towards Port Fairy. She was taken in tow with the three boats, and after two days' towing, she was anch.o.r.ed within half-a-mile of the schooner in Portland Bay, and the men went ash.o.r.e.

During the night a gale of wind came on from the south-west, and the whale, being a bit stale and high out of the water, drove ash.o.r.e at the Bluff, a little way past Henty's house.

In the morning Mills said he would go and see what he could get from her on the beach, and ordered his brother, Charles Mills, and Coakley to go out looking for whales. All the boats used to go out before daylight, and dodge one another round the Bay for miles. It was cold work sitting in the boats. The men stayed out until ten or eleven o'clock, and went ash.o.r.e that day on the Convincing Ground, which was so-called because the whalers used to go down there to fight, and convince one another who was the best man.

In the afternoon, about two o'clock, it was Davy's turn to go up a tree to look for whales. In looking round the Bay towards the Bluff, he saw a boat with a whiff on. He jumped down, and told Charles Mills, who said: "Come on." there was a great rush of all the boats, but Mills' boat kept well forward of the lot. When they arrived off the Bluff they found Captain Mills had fastened to a whale, two other loose whales being near. They pulled up alongside him, and he pointed out a loose whale, to which they fastened.

Mansfield, of the Hobarton party, fastened to the third whale. Davy came aft to the steer-oar, and Charles Mills went forward to kill his whale. He had hardly got the lance in his hand when the whale threw herself right athwart the nose of the boat. He then sent the lance right into her and killed her stone dead. Mansfield, in hauling up his whale got on top of Captain Mills' whale, which stove in Mansfield's boat, and sent all his men flying in the air. There was a rush then to pick up the men. Charles Mills, finding his whale dead, struck a whiff in the lance-hole he had made when he killed her, cut the line that was fast to her, and bent it on to another spare iron. Mansfield's whale then milled round and came right on to Charles Mills' boat, and he fastened to her. This gave him a claim of one half of her, so that Mills and his men got two and a half out of the three whales. The men were all picked up. Mills' whales were anch.o.r.ed about half-a-mile from the schooner, and the boats went out next morning and took them in tow.

The whales tow very easily when fresh killed, but if they are allowed to get stiff their fins stand out and hinder the towing. When the two whales were brought alongside the schooner, the boats of Kelly's party were seen fast to a whale off Black Nose Point. Charles Mills pulled over, and when he arrived he found a loose whale, Mansfield and Chase being fast to two other whales. Mills fastened to the loose whale, and then the three whales fouled the three lines, and rolled them all together like a warp, which made it difficult to kill them. After the men had pulled up on them for some time with the oars, two of them began spouting blood and sickened, and Chase's boat got on to them and capsized. Then the whales took to running, and Mansfield cut his line to pick up Chase and his crew. Mansfield's whale being sick, went in a flurry and died. Mills' whale and Chase's worked together until Mills killed his whale; he then whiffed her and fastened to Chase's whale, which gave him a claim for half, and he killed her; so that his party got one and a-half out of the three whales. Chase and his crew were all picked up.

From that day the luck of Mills and his party turned, and they could not try out fast enough. In four months from the time the 'Thistle'

left Launceston she had on board two hundred and forty tuns of oil.

In the year 1836, the Hentys had a few cattle running behind the Bluff when Major Mitch.e.l.l arrived overland from Sydney, and reported good country to the north. They then brought over more cattle from Launceston, and stocked a station.

The first beast killed by the Hentys for their whalers was a heifer, and the carcase, divided into two parts, was suspended from the flagstaff at their house. It could be seen from afar by the men who were pulling across the bay in their boats, and they knew that Henty's men were going to feed on fresh meat, while all the rest were eating such awful stuff as Yankee pork and salt horse. The very sight of the two sides of the heifer suspended at the flagstaff was an unendurable insult and mockery to the carnivorous whalers, and an incitement to larceny. Davy Fermaner was steering one of the boats, and he exclaimed: "There, they are flashing the fresh meat to us.

They would look foolish if they lost it to-night."

There was feasting and revelry that night at Single Corner. Hungry men were sharpening their sheath-knives with steel, and cutting up a side of beef. A large fire was burning, and on the glowing coals, and in every frying-pan rich steaks were fizzing and hissing. It was like a feast of heroes, and lasted long through the night. They sang responsively, like gentle shepherds--shepherds of the ocean fields whose flocks were mighty whales:

"Mother, the butcher's brought the meat, What shall I do with it?

Fry the flesh, and broil the bones, And make a pudding of the su-et."

Next morning the Hentys looked for the missing beef up the flagstaff, and along the sh.o.r.e of the ever-sounding ocean, but their search was vain. They suspected that the men of Kelly's party were the thieves, but these all looked as stupid, ignorant, and innocent as the adverse circ.u.mstances would permit. There was no evidence against them to be found; the beef was eaten and the bones were burned and buried.

Mills' men were the beef lifters, and some of Kelly's men helped them to eat it.

The whales killed at the Portland fishery were of two kinds, the right or black whale, and the sperm whale. The right whale has an immense tongue, and lives by suction, the food being a kind of small shrimp. When in a flurry--that is, when she has received her death-stroke with the lance--she goes round in a circle, working with her head and flukes. The sperm whales feed on squid, which they bite, and when in a flurry they work with the head and flukes, and with the mouth open, and often crush the boats.

After the crew of the 'Thistle' had spent their money, they were taken back to Port Fairy for the purpose of stripping bark, a large quant.i.ty of wattle trees having been found in the neighbouring country. Sheep were also taken there in charge of Mr. J. Murphy, who intended to form a station. John Griffiths also sent over his father, Jonathan, who had been a carpenter on board the first man-of-war that had arrived at Port Jackson, three old men who had been prisoners, four bullocks, a plough, and some seed potatoes. A cargo of the previous season's bark was put into the 'Thistle', and on her return to Launceston, was transferred to the 'Rhoda' brig, Captain Rolls, bound for London. More sheep and provisions were then taken in the 'Thistle', and after they were landed at Port Fairy, another cargo of bark was put on board. For three days there was no wind, and a tremendous sea setting in from the south-east, the schooner could not leave the bay. On the night of December 24th a gale of wind came on from the south-east; one chain parted, and after riding until three o'clock in the morning of Christmas Day, the other chain also parted. The vessel drew eight feet, and was lying in between three and four fathoms of water. As soon as the second chain broke, Davy went up on the fore-yard and cut the gaskets of the foresail. The schooner grounded in the trough of sea, but when she rose the foresail was down, and she paid off before the wind. The sh.o.r.e was about a mile, or a mile and a half distant, and she took the beach right abreast of a sheep yard, where her wreck now lies.

The men got ash.o.r.e in safety, but all the cargo was lost.

A tent was pitched on sh.o.r.e near the wreck, but as there was no vessel in the bay by which they could return to Launceston, the four men, Captain Mills, D. Fermaner, Charles Ferris, and Richard Jennings, on December 31st, 1837, set sail in a whaleboat for Port Philip. Davy had stolen Jennings from the 'Rhoda' brig at Launceston, when seamen were scarce. He was afterwards a pilot at Port Philip, and was buried at Williamstown.

The whaleboat reached Port Philip on January 3rd, 1838, having got through the Rip on the night of the 2nd. Ferris was the only man of the crew who had been in before, he having gone in with Batman, in the 'Rebecca' cutter, Captain Baldwin. Baldwin was afterwards before the mast in the 'Elizabeth' schooner; he was a clever man, but fond of drink.

The whaleboat anch.o.r.ed off Portsea, but the men did not land for fear of the blacks.

At daylight Davy landed to look for water, but could not find any; and there were only three pints in the water-bag. The wind being from the north, the boat was pulled over to Mud Island, and the men went ash.o.r.e to make tea with the three pints of water. Davy walked about the island, and found a rookery of small mackerel-gulls and a great quant.i.ty of their eggs in the sand. He broke a number of them, and found that the light-coloured eggs were good, and that the dark ones had birds in them. He took off his shirt, tied the sleeves together, bagged a lot of the eggs, and carried them back to the camp. Mills broke the best of them into the great pot, and the eggs and water mixed together and boiled made about a quart for each man.

After breakfast the wind shifted to the southward, and the 'Henry'

brig, from Launceston, Captain Whiting, ran in, bound to Point Henry with sheep; but before Mills and his men could get away from Mud Island the brig had pa.s.sed. They pulled and sailed after her, but did not overtake her until she arrived off the point where Batman first settled, now called Port Arlington; at that time they called the place Indented Heads.

When the whaleboat came near the brig to ask for water, two or three muskets were levelled at the men over the bulwarks, and they were told to keep off, or they would be shot. At that time a boat's crew of prisoners had escaped from Melbourne in a whale boat, and the ship-wrecked men were suspected as the runaways. But one of the crew of the 'Henry', named Jack Macdonald, looked over the side, and seeing Davy in the boat, asked him what they had done with the schooner 'Thistle', and they told him they had lost her at Port Fairy.

Captain Whiting asked Macdonald if he knew them, and on being informed that they were the captain and crew of the schooner 'Thistle', he invited them on board and supplied them with a good dinner. They went on to Point Henry in the brig, and a.s.sisted in landing the sheep.

Batman was at that time in Melbourne. Davy had seen him before in Launceston. After discharging the sheep the brig proceeded to Gellibrand's Point, and as Captain Whiting wanted to go up to Melbourne, the men pulled him up the Yarra in their whaleboat.

Fawkner's Hotel at that time was above the site of the present customs House, and was built with broad paling. Mills and Whiting stayed there that night, Davy and the other two men being invited to a small public-house kept by a man named Burke, a little way down Little Flinders Street, where they were made very comfortable.

Next day they went back to the brig 'Henry', and started for Launceston.

In May, 1838, Davy was made master of the schooner 'Elizabeth', and took in her a cargo of sheep, and landed them at Port Fairy. The three old convicts whom Griffiths had sent there along with his father Jonathan, had planted four or five acres of potatoes at a place called Goose Lagoon, about two miles behind the township. The crop was a very large one, from fifteen to twenty tons to the acre, and Davy had received orders to take in fifty tons of the potatoes, and to sell them in South Australia. He did so, and after four days'

pa.s.sage went ash.o.r.e at the port, offered the potatoes for sale, and sold twenty tons at 22 pounds 10 shillings per ton. On going ash.o.r.e again next morning, he was offered 20 pounds per ton for the remainder, and he sold them at that price.

On the same day the 'Nelson' brig, from Hobarton, arrived with one hundred tons of potatoes, but she could not sell them, as Davy had fully stocked the market. He was paid for the potatoes in gold by the two men who bought them.

He went up to the new city of Adelaide. All the buildings were of the earliest style of architecture, and were made of tea-tree and sods, or of reeds dabbed together with mud. The hotels had no signboards, but it was easy to find them by the heaps of bottles outside. Kangaroo flesh was 1s. 6d. a pound, but grog was cheap.

Davy was looking for a shipmate named Richard Ralph, who was then the princ.i.p.al architect and builder in the city. He found him erecting homes for the immigrants out of reeds and mud. He was paid 10 pounds or 12 pounds for each building. He was also hunting kangaroo and selling meat. He was married to a lady immigrant, and on the whole appeared to be very comfortable and prosperous. Davy gave the lady a five-shilling piece to go and fetch a bottle of gin, and was surprised when she came back bringing two bottles of gin and 3s.

change. In the settlement the necessaries of life were dear, but the luxuries were cheap. If a man could not afford to buy kangaroo beef and potatoes, he could live sumptuously on gin. Davy walked back to the port the same evening, and next day took in ballast, which was mud dug out among the mangroves.

He arrived at Launceston in four days, and then went as coasting pilot of the barque 'Belinda', bound to Port Fairy to take in oil for London. The barque took in 100 head of cattle, the first that were landed at Port Fairy. He then went to Port Philip, and was employed in lightering cargo up the Yarra, and in ferrying between Williamstown and the beach now called Port Melbourne. He took out the first boatman's licence issued, and has the bra.s.s badge, No. 1, still. Vessels at that time had to be warped up the Yarra from below Humbug Reach, as no wind could get at the topsails, on account of the high tea-tree on the banks.

OUT WEST IN 1849.

I did not travel as a capitalist, far from it. I went up the Mississippi as a deck pa.s.senger, sleeping at night sometimes on planks, at other times on bags of oats piled on the deck about six feet high. The mate of a Mississippi boat is always a bully and every now and then he came along with a deck-hand carrying a lamp, and requested us to come down. He said it was "agen the rules of the boat to sleep on oats"; but we kept on breaking the rules as much as possible.

Above the mouth of the Ohio the river bank on the Missouri side is high, rocky, and picturesque. I longed to be the owner of a farm up there, and of a modest cottage overlooking the Father of Waters. I said, "If there's peace and plenty to be had in this world, the heart that is humble might hope for it here," and then the very first village visible was called "Vide Poche." It is now a suburb of St.

Louis.

I took a pa.s.sage on another boat up the Illinois river. There was a very lordly man on the lower deck who was frequently "trailing his coat." He had, in fact, no coat at all, only a grey flannel shirt and nankeen trousers, but he was remarkably in want of a fight, and anxious to find a man willing to be licked. He was a desperado of the great river. We had heard and read of such men, of their reckless daring and deadly fights; but we were peaceful people; we had come out west to make a living, and therefore did not want to be killed. When the desperado came near we looked the other way.

There was a party of five immigrant Englishmen sitting on their luggage. One of them was very strongly built, a likely match for the bully, and a deck-hand pointing to him said:

"Jack, do you know what that Englishman says about you?"

"No, what does he say?"

"He says he don't think you are of much account with all your brag.

Reckons he could lick you in a couple of minutes."

Uttering imprecations, Jack approached the Englishman, and dancing about the deck, cleared the ring for the coming combat.