"Those strains that once did sweet in Zion glide,He wales a portion with judicious care;And 'let us worship God' he says with solemn air."Burns.
The party at the "Bullock's Head" retired early to rest in order to proceed on their journey at a corresponding hour on the following morning. They slept and rose, breakfasted and resumed their travel; and the same afternoon arrived at Barra Warra, where they were welcomed by their kind-hearted friends, the Dawsons. It is needless for us here to detail the circumstances of the visit; suffice it to say, that the lady of the house and Kate Ferguson at once established their friendshipon a firm basis; and the gentlemen passed their time pleasantly, and in a manner congenial to their respective tastes. The only event during the period of their sojourn, which we deem necessary to narrate, is that of preaching in the bush.
A day or two after their arrival—on a Sunday morning—Mr. Dawson placed his large wool-shed, which at the time was nearly empty, at the disposal of Mr. Wigton, for the purpose of there holding Divine service; and he gave intimation on the station that such would take place. Though Mr. Dawson was a conscientious adherent of the Anglican church, he was not one of those who, in the absence of a place of worship where the adoration is conducted not strictly in accordance with the prescribed formulæ of his church, would abstain from attendance on any other denominational service. He was devoid of such bigotry; and considered it a duty, when an opportunity of public worship presented itself (even though the minister officiating was notdeemed perfectly orthodox by the tenets of the Episcopalian creed), to avail himself of it. Where means of ministration were rare, he considered sectarian distinctions prejudicial to the cause of the gospel, and deemed the only essential to be an earnest truthfulness and piety on the part of the clergyman. He always encouraged the ordinances of religion on his station, and the inculcation of moral principles among his men.
The Sabbath was one of those lovely days so peculiar to the sunny regions of favoured Australia. The sky was without a cloud to vary its unbroken and immaculate azure, and the sun shone with a voluptuous lustre, which rendered the atmosphere warm, though not oppressive, and the face of the country smiling and cheerful. The people around the place—men, women, and children, clean and neatly clad—assembled in an orderly manner; while the sombre stillness of the bush tended to impress the beholders with an earnestness, a feeling of devotion, and a confirmed belief,that, verily, "the Spirit of the Lord moved upon the face of the earth." There are, we venture to say, few more inspiring scenes than the performance of Divine service, or "a preaching," in the wilds of the woods; and we believe the spiritual influence was felt that day by not a few of the number who listened to the exposition of the Word, which was delivered from the lips of the preacher with a truth and pathos characteristic of a sincere and devout mind. The same orderly and sober manner marked the dispersion of the people, as did their gathering; and if no spiritual good arose from it (though we sincerely trust and believe there did), in a moral point of view the people reaped a reward; and by the same means, indirectly, the squatter was benefited.
These preachings contrast pleasingly with the general thoughtless and frivolous manner of some of the congregations in our large towns, and it is only to be regretted that they are not of more frequent occurrence.Nothing would more greatly tend to advance the morals of those people of Australia who too frequently live in a state of vitiated depravity and mental degradation, and who are perfectly destitute of religion, and ignorant and neglectful of its observances.
When William and his party had remained at Barra Warra for about a week he thought it time to push forward to his home; and, after some little persuasion with Mrs. Dawson, induced her to part with his sister, and the young lady to consent to go. They took their leave amidst a general expression of cordiality, and an entreaty from their kind friends to find their way back again as soon as possible. They then proceeded on their way, Kate more than ever delighted with her prospect. In the spontaneous ebullition of her youthful and innocent feelings, and charmed beyond measure at the kind reception she had met with from the amiable people she had just left, she was in the highest spirits, and gave frequent vent to her joy.Her merry peals of laughter rang through the woods with an echo that sounded as if all the trees had taken up the chorus, and supported her in bursts of silvery-toned cachinnations. She talked and chatted away the time, asking questions of her brother respecting the Smitherses and the Rainsfields, and requesting him to draw comparisons between the two families and that which they had lately left. This task William professed himself unable to accomplish, and unwilling to attempt; remarking that "comparisons were odious," and that his sister would be able to judge for herself if she would exercise a little patience.
The road was quickly travelled over; and our friends comfortably completed that day's stage, and found themselves at Brompton before dark. They were welcomed by Mr. and Mrs. Smithers in as friendly a manner as William had anticipated; but upon Kate and Mr. Wigton being introduced as strangers to Bob, he muttered some unintelligible sentence, turned on his heel, and left the room. Such extraordinary conduct rather surprised the Fergusons, especially William; who, when last he had seen him, parted from him in perfect good feeling. The proprietor of the station and his wife were not only astonished, but exceedingly chagrined to think that their visitors should have received so gross an insult from a member of their family. Without entering into any vituperations on Bob's conduct, they apologised to their friends for his inexplicable behaviour, stating their inability to assign any reason for it beyond his extraordinary temper, and expressing many regrets for its occurrence.
The Fergusons professed to think nothing of it, and begged their friends to take no heed of the circumstance, as it gave them, personally, no concern; being convinced that it could not have been the intention of Mr. Smithers' brother to have meditated any insult. Notwithstanding all their assurances that they in no way felt annoyed, they couldnot remove from the minds of their hosts the impression that they had received an unwarrantable insult; and the culprit not "entering an appearance" again, and no explanation being forthcoming, the evening passed very heavily, and a general relief was experienced by the party when they separated for the night.
On the following morning the Fergusons and Mr. Wigton resumed their journey, and the spirit of their travelling contrasted greatly with that of the previous day. They had parted from the Smitherses on very good terms; but Bob had continued to absent himself, and there was a gloom thrown over the parting in consequence.
"What a horrid bear that man is," exclaimed Kate, as she rode between the other two equestrians. "What could have induced him to be so rude? Have you any idea, Will?"
William certainly had an idea, and it grieved him much to contemplate it, for he thought he read in the occurrence a rupturebetween his brother and Bob Smithers. But he was deep in thought when his sister addressed him, and not until she had repeated her question did he make any reply; and that reply, if not strictly the truth, was, he thought, the best he could make, rather than by uttering his convictions, to excite the fears of his sister for her brother John.
"No, my Kate, I do not," replied William, "but what does it signify? We have no occasion to trouble ourselves about the circumstance. Bob Smithers was exceedingly ungentlemanly in his behaviour; but I believe he is proverbial for that sort of conduct, so I think we need not give the matter any further thought. Do you, Mr. Wigton?"
"You are quite right, William," replied the minister, "the folly or frivolity of the man, for at most it is only such, should not be allowed to give us any uneasiness. If it was intended to convey any insult, we can best show our appreciation of it by allowing it at once to sink into oblivion; but I haveno doubt it may be attributable to his extraordinary manner, which, you say, is customary."
"Well," said Kate, "I'll tell Miss Rainsfield of the manner in which he treated us; it is only right that she should know what a ruffian he is."
"Now, my thoughtless little sister, you must do no such thing," said her brother; "rather studiously avoid mentioning anything at Strawberry Hill disparaging of Bob Smithers. Miss Rainsfield must be better acquainted with the gentleman's character and manner than either you or I; and the relation of any such affront as we have received might cause her considerable and unnecessary pain."
"Nonsense, William," cried the girl. "Miss Rainsfield ought to know how he acts to strangers, because, I am sure, he'll always behave himself before her; and I am convinced if she only knew what a bear he is, she would not have anything to say to him."
"Kate," remarked Mr. Wigton, "William isquite right; it would be better to say nothing about the affair, if, as I imagine from your conversation, this young lady entertains any regard for Mr. Smithers. She must be better acquainted with his feelings than we; consequently, we should avoid the possibility of creating any contentions between the families; while, after all, there might have been nothing in his manner deserving animadversion."
"I think I can see the drift of my fair sister's plan," said William to Mr. Wigton; "she has taken a fancy to Bob Smithers herself, and she thinks by telling this dreadful tragedy to Miss Rainsfield, that young lady will be induced to discard him, and leave the coast open to our Kate."
"You are a most impertinent fellow," exclaimed Kate, as she attempted to lay her whip across the shoulders of her brother. "I detest the man; and if he were to make himself as pleasant and agreeable as it is possible for any man to be, I could not endure him."
"Never mind, my pretty Flora," said her brother, "we will not submit you to the infliction; but promise to say nothing to the Rainsfields of the affair at Brompton."
"If you particularly wish it," replied Kate, "I will hold my tongue; but I cannot imagine for why. But tell me," said she, as her usual smile returned to its wonted place, "how long shall we be before we arrive at Strawberry Hill?"
"Not until late," said William, "unless we mend our pace, so we had better push on;" with which remark he put spurs to his horse, and rode at a brisk rate followed hard by his companions.
Well on in the afternoon they arrived at Strawberry Hill; and the first inmate of the house who presented himself was Tom Rainsfield, who grasped the hand of William, and was introduced by him to Kate and Mr. Wigton. The former he expressed much delight in seeing, and stated he had been looking out anxiously for her arrival, and would atonce constitute himself her protector and most obedient servant. With such little blandishments he led the arrivals into the house; and presented with due solemnity the treasure, that he said had been consigned to his keeping, to his sister-in-law and his cousin. The ladies at once received Kate with that affectionate welcome inherent in women; and, relieving Tom of his self-imposed responsibility, disappeared with her to one of those secret conferences, the mysteries of which we masculine mortals are destined always to remain in profound ignorance.
The gentlemen then issued through the French light, and passed from the room to the verandah that encompassed the house. Tom brought out chairs, and desired his visitors to be seated for a few minutes, until the ladies returned, while he went in search of his brother to acquaint him of their arrival.
In a short time Mrs. Rainsfield and her companions made their appearance all radiant with smiles, and their faces beaming withexpressions of good feeling; shortly after which Tom joined them with Mr. Rainsfield, who received the travellers with a politeness that struck William as having some degree of formality in it. However, a repast was speedily prepared and set upon the table, to which all sat down; when everything was cordiality; and after spending a very pleasant and agreeable evening, the party broke up at an hour rather late for weary wayfarers. But the gentlemen expressed themselves free from fatigue; and Kate, who was really a good equestrian, so enjoyed the society of Mrs. Rainsfield, and had become so attached to Eleanor, that the moments seemed to fly by with an almost incredible velocity. Not till Mr. Rainsfield had more than once reminded his wife that it was approaching midnight, did the ladies take the hint to separate. Then the matron followed by the two girls, with their arms encircling each others waists, made their exit; while Tom's eyes followed them with looks of admiration.
In the morning they all assembled at the table; and without tiring the reader with the conversation that was carried on, or the entire detail of their plans, which were discussed over the morning meal, we will give a synopsis of the whole in a few words. It was arranged that William, his sister, and Mr. Wigton, accompanied by Tom and Mrs. Rainsfield, should ride over to Fern Vale. William and Mr. Wigton were to remain there with John, while the rest of the party returned to Strawberry Hill. Mr. Wigton had declined the invitation of the Rainsfields to remain with them for a short time on the ground that he would not have long to remain in their quarter, and he wished to devote as much as possible of his time to his young friends. Kate was to fulfil her promised visit until her brother's house was ready for her reception.
The arrangements for the passage over to Fern Vale pleased all parties but Kate, who had been industriously persevering to induceEleanor to accompany them. But her friend had excused herself on the plea that she very rarely rode, was not at all a good horsewoman, and almost invariably felt ill after a ride. So Kate, finding entreaty useless, was constrained to do without the companionship of her friend. The party took their departure early in the forenoon, without seeing Mr. Rainsfield; who, they understood, was engaged with some person, Mr. Billing had sent word to say, had been waiting to see him.
"Nature, indeed, denies them sense,But gives them legs and impudence,That beats all understanding."Williams.
When the black boy, whom John Ferguson had named Billy, was released by his captors, after the castigation we have seen him subjected to by Rainsfield and Smithers, he made the best of his way to Fern Vale; and there, with his bleeding back substantiating his statement, told his tale of woe. John and his friend Tom Rainsfield could hardly credit their sight; the latter especially, who could not think but that if his brother had any hand in the barbarity it must have been as apassive instrument at the disposal of Smithers. The young men felt for the poor aboriginal, and in their sympathy tended his wounds and gave him what assistance they could. With the black the injury sank deep into his heart; savage as he was he felt the ignominy of his treatment; and he cherished that feeling of deep revenge which is innate in the natures of all God's creatures, but especially in those, who like the savage, have never had an ethic inculcation to restrain their passions. He gave vent to his agony, as he lay prostrate on his pallet, in wails of anguish and vituperative mutterings; uttered in the unintelligibleness of his own language.
After the subsiding of the first surprise and indignation the agitation of his own thoughts too much occupied John's mind to admit of his being much diverted by the sorrows of his black boy; and Tom was too much affected by the dejectedness of his friend to entertain any lasting concern for the sable sufferer. As he sat ruminating on the incidents of the day, until he fell into a reverie almost as deep as one of those indulged in by his companion, he roused himself by uttering the following exordium: "Cheer up, John, my dear fellow; don't permit yourself to feel disappointed, for I am sure from the glimpse Eleanor has had to-day of Smithers' real nature she cannot entertain any respect for him; and, as for her ridiculous persistence in binding herself to a foolish engagement, I have no doubt she will now see the necessity of abandoning it."
"My dear Tom," replied the other, "I cannot consent to oppose the claims of Bob Smithers so long as Eleanor herself holds them sacred. She admitted her engagement to him in his and my presence, and at the same time abstained from giving me any direct answer to my proposal; I imagine, as she thought, to avoid paining my feelings; so I must not dare to hope."
"That's all moonshine," cried Tom, "banish the idea of Bob Smithers from your headaltogether. You say Eleanor gave you no direct answer to your entreaties; I don't profess to be a judge in such matters, but it appears to me her hesitation was not disadvantageous to you. If that ruffian had not appeared I am sure you would have overcome all her scruples. Persevere John! you know the adage, 'faint heart never won fair lady;' rouse yourself, and act upon it, and I will stake my existence on the result."
"I cannot, Tom," replied his friend. "I assure you, I cannot; I have a higher opinion of Eleanor's integrity than to think she would be influenced by my entreaties to reject Smithers merely from our little fracas yesterday. She distinctly informed me she was engaged to him, and I am bound in honour to respect her judgment. If I ever had reason to believe her determination would alter I might hope; but no, I see no prospect."
"You are too nice," exclaimed Tom, "upon the point of honour, as you call it. Her engagement I look upon as a mere phantasy,which she will be convinced of ere long. All you have to consider is, whether or not she will accept you. You have had no answer from her you say; then take an early opportunity of seeing her, and pressing for a reply. If you will not plead for yourself I will for you; and shall point out to her the absurdity and absolute sinfulness of discarding you for that object of conceited inanition, Bob Smithers."
"Much as I would desire the reversion of the decree that forbids me hope that Eleanor will be mine," replied John, "I would much rather that you did not agitate her by adverting to the subject in her hearing, as it cannot fail to renew unpleasant reminiscences."
"Well, perhaps it would be better," said Tom, "to let it remain as it is for a short time; and if you promise me to keep up your spirits, and hope for a better state of things, I will engage not to disturb her unnecessarily. Why, I'll stake anything you like on it, she is thinking of you at this verymoment; and will no more marry Bob Smithers than I will the ghostly Meg Merillies."
With a sickly smile from the forlorn lover the conversation ceased for the time; and the friends shortly afterwards retired to seek the rest they respectively stood in need of. On the following morning Tom returned to Strawberry Hill; while John, upon busying himself on the station, learnt that the black boy Billy had disappeared in the night; and that Jemmy, his companion, professed to know nothing about him. Calling in the aid of Joey he was enabled to trace the track of the fugitive to the river; from which circumstance he conjectured that Billy had waited for the dawn of morning; when he had taken his departure with the intention of joining his tribe. Upon making this discovery he felt considerable annoyance, as the black had began to be useful, and would in all probability be followed by his companion. He could not help feeling disgusted at the treatment the poor fellow had received; andso far as he was personally concerned, he felt himself justified in resenting the conduct of his neighbour; which he determined to take the earliest opportunity of stigmatizing, and condemning in the strongest possible terms. As he had anticipated, the other black soon followed his fellow, and he was consequently put to considerable inconvenience by the deprivation of their labour.
Nearly a week had elapsed after this, and Tom Rainsfield had ridden over to Fern Vale to spend a little spare time with his friend, and cheer him in his solitude. "My brother," said he, "has been again annoyed by the blacks. They have paid him another visit, and seem determined to cultivate his acquaintance more closely than hitherto. I expect that fellow of yours has given his relatives a feeling account of his reception at our place, and also as to the exact position of the store. In their late visit, they were in considerable numbers (I presume to protect themselves against a general flogging), and they havevented their displeasure in a manner most conducive to their happiness, by appropriating what of our stores they could conveniently remove. I believe my brother meditates some desperate onslaught; for he is swearing to exterminate the whole tribe if they continue their depredations much longer."
"I think," replied John Ferguson, "that he is suicidal to his own interests by perpetuating his quarrel with the blacks. An unceasing warfare with them will only be conducive of misfortune, loss, and uneasiness to both himself and his neighbours; for the blacks will not have the sense to discriminate between those that are friendly disposed towards them, and those that are the reverse. All whites to them will be the same, and will become objects of their hatred."
"I agree with you to a certain extent," replied Tom; "and I believe the aborigines can not only be conciliated, but be made certainly useful, if not industrious. I don't like the idea of driving the poor wretchesaway from the country: at the same time you must admit our property must not be despoiled without an effort on our part to protect it."
"Certainly," replied John; "but I believe the very violation of which you speak is merely the result of the harsh treatment persevered in by your brother. Their visits to you are only their retribution for injuries received at his hands. You see they respect my property, simply because I treat them with some degree of lenity; at the same time I give them to understand that I would not permit any appropriation on their part; and I have no doubt if your brother would adopt the same course he would experience a similar result."
"Very likely," said Tom; "but he does not seem to think so, and I imagine it would be hard to convince him. The hostility which he now experiences from the blacks, I believe, as you say, is the result of his austerity; but he imagines it arises from their own naturalpredilection for stealing, while his severity is his only safeguard. I am quite of opinion that the blackguards are naturally disposed to pilfer; but at the same time I have no doubt our property could be preserved by the exercise of a moral firmness, without any of that unnecessary harshness and cruelty which my brother displays. But see, here they are, paying you a visit apparently, and in open day too; see now, if they don't upset your theory."
The appearance that caused this expression of Tom's was of a party of blacks who were approaching the station in a slow though by no means silent manner; for, in fact, the incessant din of their jabber heralded them before they were actually visible. The party consisted of about thirty men, who were armed with their usual weapons of spears, boomerangs and waddies; and clad in nature's own habiliments. They were headed by two fellows of commanding stature and appearance; though little differing from the others,except that one wore a necklace of small bones; and the other, suspended from his neck by a cord and resting on his breast, a small brass-plate of a crescent shape, on which his name was engraved. This individual, who was the chief of the tribe, was named Dugingi; while his companion enjoyed the more euphonious sobriquet of Jemmy Davis. The latter had undertaken to introduce himself and his friend to the whites with much form; and during the ceremony we will take the opportunity of giving the reader a slight outline of his and his comrade's history.
Dugingi was a semi-civilized black of about the middle age, powerfully made, and decidedly unprepossessing in his appearance. He had been at one time a trooper in the native police force of the colony; in which corps he had been discreet enough to acquire all the vices and depravities of the whites, while their virtues remained to him that arcana of life which held out no allurements for emulation. When this effective force was greatlyreduced, and in some parts entirely disbanded, by the sapient government of the time, Dugingi, with numerous others of his countrymen similarly instructed, were let loose to join their tribes, to contaminate the hitherto inoffensive blacks with their vile inoculations. We will not stop to review the evils that have arisen from the system of imbuing the natures of the blacks with a taste for sin, acquired in scenes of crime and iniquity, and then sending them back to their former haunts to spread amongst their fraternity the virus of civilized corruption. Such itself might be made the subject of especial exposition, and would require more space than we in this tome can afford it.
Upon his juncture with his tribe the effects of Dugingi's education soon displayed themselves; and having been caught and convicted of theft, and after a series of successful depredatory exploits, he was sentenced to two years' penal servitude at the convict establishment in Cockatoo Island. Here, again, is anotherinstance of the judicial short-sighted policy against which we might declaim: for, setting aside the absence of punishment to a black, where confinement is accompanied with ease and regular dietary; to which he has not hitherto been accustomed (to say nothing of his incapacity to understand the nature of his crime, or the cause of his incarceration); the contamination he receives during his sojourn in those fearful sinks of infamy, complete his immoral training; and when he againbreathesthe fresh air of freedom, he is as accomplished a villain as ever graced the bar of the Old Bailey. So it was with Dugingi. Cockatoo Island finished what the native police commenced; and but for his arrant cowardice, and the dread of the settler's fire-arms, he would have been as great a ruffian as ever traversed the bush. But though he was at heart a thorough scoundrel, and pretty generally known to be so, he was kept in check by a wholesome dread, not of the visitation of the law (which, in the remote parts,never could be sufficiently powerful to protect the settlers from the depredations or assaults of the blacks), but of a retribution from the whites; which they took it upon themselves to inflict, when they conceived it necessary. Thus, though Dugingi was peaceable, it was only the quiet of the subdued tiger, which merely required time and opportunity to develope its real nature. The plate, which he wore round his neck, was given to him upon the disbandment of the force; and on the strength of it and his civilized acquirements, he arrogated to himself the chiefship of his tribe; thus proving, that in his case at least, "knowledge was power."
Jemmy Davis, on the other hand, was a very different character. He had been taken from his tribe, when young, by a settler, who called him after himself, and kept him almost constantly about his person and premises. He taught him reading and writing, both of which Jemmy acquired admirably; and he spoke English as fluently, and evenmore so, than many Englishmen. Some years after his domestication, and some little time before the date of our narrative, Mr. Davis visited England, and took with him his Australian namesake; keeping him constantly by his side during the whole of a tour through the greater part of Europe. The effects of this would be imagined to have been the entire eradication of his aboriginal nature, and a perfect conversion to civilisation. So thought his master, but he was deceived; and so have been all those who have attempted to naturalize the blacks to an industrial mode of life. Jemmy Davis, as soon as he returned with his master to Australia and the station, took his departure from the comforts of the whites; denuding himself of his clothes, which he had so long accustomed himself to wear; and joined his tribe in the state we have seen him.
The case of Jemmy Davis is by no means a singular one in the aborigines of Australia. The attempt has frequently been made toinduce them to assimilate their ways to those of the whites, but, with very rare exceptions, with the same result; nor, when we analyze the feelings that actuate their return to savage life, need we feel surprised. The endearments of home, wretched as that home may be; the ties of kindred; the love of country; the force of early training, and old associations; all imbue the breast of the savage in an equal degree that similar sentiments do the bosoms of his civilized neighbours.
Let a man of humble birth, and parentage so mean that they have been considered, by their fellow mortals, as cumberances on the earth; we say, let him, through his own industry and fortuitous circumstances, raise himself to a post of eminence and power; and amidst all the engrossing excitement of his life of pomp and pedantry, the promptings of his natural affection will cause his heart to yearn after the authors of his being, and the humble tenement that sheltered his infant head. If, then, such feelings exist in the mind of a mansubject to all the caprices of the world, and made callous to the feelings of humanity by the usages of that society that would hold up to scorn and ridicule the exhibition of affection for anything so mean; how much more would the child of nature, unencumbered with such conventionalities, and unfettered by the prejudices of civilized life, yearn after the ties of kindred and the associations of his early training. Hence all attempts to draw the savage races into a settled civilisation, and wean them from their inherent customs, have signally failed. Blacks may have been partially induced to adopt the customs of the whites, in individual cases, such as Jemmy Davis; but their continuance is not to be depended upon, for they soon tire of their new life when they find that labour is its natural adjunct, and they relapse into their former state, preferring the indolence it ensures.
The mode of living of the blacks in their wild state is primitive in the extreme; andthe sources of their sustenance equally precarious. Their diet consists of roots, berries, fish, small animals, and reptiles (such as snakes and lizards); and as the country never abounds with either, they are necessarily often perfectly destitute; and the water as frequently failing, coupled with the entire absence of any degree of pre-thought or providence on their part, and their imperfect means of procuration, they are almost constantly in an abject state of wretchedness. Their weapons are primitive, singular, and even, as savage specimens, ineffective. Their natural characteristics are cowardice, indolence, deceit, cunning, and treachery (particularly to and amongst themselves); prevented only, as we have already said, in their intercourse with the whites, from exercising the latter by the predominance of the first. Their physical formation is decidedly of the inferior order; with very few exceptions, they are by no means muscular or well formed. Their bodies are covered with long, raised wales,which are caused by incisions made withasharp instrument (such as a shell or a flint), when the patient is young; the wounds are for some time kept open with earth, and made to assume their embossment in the operation of healing. In their movements they are sluggish, though agile when stimulated to action. Their limbs are of surprising tenuity. In their communications with one another they are volatile; verbose in conversation, and puerile in manner: continually embroiled in some quarrel, which either ends in words, or terminates in the act of the secret assassin; rarely coming to an open rupture while the adversaries are on their guard.
Their women, or "gins," are even inferior to the men, both physically and mentally. In appearance they are perfectly hideous, almost to deformity, and are the drudges of their lords; whom they repay for their contumely, by keeping in continual broils, during which their feminine voices are ever heard over the din of their verbal contentions.
We have said Jemmy Davis was the ambassador of his tribe, and that he had introduced himself and Dugingi to John Ferguson. We will therefore, now, after our epic digression, resume our narrative, by repeating the conversation that followed.
"Well, Jemmy," said John Ferguson, "and what may be your pleasure? to what may we attribute the honour of your visit?"
"We came to tell you, sir," replied the plenipo, "that we have a great 'corroboree' to-night, and we want some rations."
"And what is your corroboree for, Jemmy?" enquired John.
"It's a 'kipper corroboree,' sir," replied Jemmy.
"Well," replied John, "I'll not give you a mouthful of anything until you send back my black boys. What made them leave me? I treated them well; gave them plenty of rations, and blankets on cold nights; so why did they run away? Will you tell me?"
Dugingi replied, "Billy been tell'um mehow Misser Rainsfield and Misser Smithers been beat 'em; and bael budgery (not good) that fellow; budgery (good) fellow you; bael (not) you beat 'em black fellow; and black fellow been wooller (say) you corbon budgery (very good); but bael black fellow sit down (stay) where white fellow beat 'em."
"That's all right, Dugingi," said John. "I never beat the black boys, and if I knew it, would never allow any one else to do so; but because Mr. Rainsfield flogged Billy is that any reason why he should run away from me? Let him and the other boy come back, and I'll give you some rations for your corroboree; but if they don't come back, I'll not give you anything."
An altercation then ensued between Dugingi and the fugitives, who appeared to be of the visiting party; and it was ultimately arranged that they should return after their feast.
"I suppose we can come and see your corroboree, if we like, Dugingi?" asked John.
"Yuoi (yes), Masser," said Dugingi, "youcome along in three-fellow hours after sun go down, and me be see 'um you. Misser Tom he come along too, he budgery fellow to black fellow; but bael budgery fellow brother belong to him, he corbon (big) —— rogue."
This defamatory expression of opinion of Dugingi's on the merits of Mr. Rainsfield was uttered in no tone, and with no expression of amiability; and Tom attempted to smother his ire as he replied, "You are highly flattering, Dugingi, not only to me but to my brother; but, never mind, I'll go and see you. Me be brother belonging to you; you go ask my brother for rations like it corroboree."
"He been give it," replied Dugingi, "plenty plour (flour), tea, sugar, bacca; corbon plenty."
"Gammon!" exclaimed Tom, "I know better than that."
"Bael gammon," replied the black; "he been give it I tell you, plenty;" whereupon Dugingi whispered a few words to his companions in his own dialect, and the wholesable conclave burst out into a loud laugh, and commenced an almost deafening jabbering amongst themselves. After which Dugingi and Jemmy Davis, promising faithfully to send the black boys over to the station after the corroboree, got their promised provender, and decamped.
END OF VOL. I.EDINBURGH: PRINTED BY THE CALEDONIAN PRESS.
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