"Till taught by pain,Men really know not what good water's worth."Byron.The reader will remember Tom Rainsfield's journey to town had been delayed for some time beyond when he had originally intended to start owing to the precarious state of Eleanor's health; consequently, when he took his departure, it was necessary for him to use speed in his travelling.The summer had by that time considerably advanced, and the country had suffered much from the continued drought that had prevailed for months. Rain was anxiously andhopingly looked for, and a pluvial visitation would have been hailed by the entire population with satisfaction. Tom, as he journeyed, saw this desideratum more plainly than before leaving home; for, as he mounted on to the extensive plains contiguous to the source of the Gibson river, the parched bare soil became perfectly uncomfortable to travel on.These plains were of fine black alluvial soil, so thinly timbered as to have hardly a tree visible within range of the eye. They were covered with grass, which, when the earth contained any moisture, flourished luxuriantly, and would at times stand waving like an agrarian picture of cereal plenty, so abundant as to impede the progress of the equestrian traveller. But now a "change had come o'er the spirit of the dream," and the herbous mass lay scorched and dry on the arid ground, offering no nutriment to the browsing kine, and only requiring a single spark to generate a grand combustion.Much has been said and written of theburning prairies of America, and of the bush-fires of Australia; and we may remark, it is in such places as these plains where they originate. Though not so extensive and destructive in their course of devastation as those fearful conflagrations in the western hemisphere, the bush-fires are still frequently of sufficient magnitude to be perfectly irresistible; and occurring as they usually do in the heart of a settled country, they are rendered more dangerous to human life and property. How they originate often remains a mystery. Of course carelessness frequently gives rise to them; though at the same time they have been known to occur in parts where neither whites nor blacks ever tread; and too often, when the destroying element rages over and sweeps away a homestead or a farm, the work is attributed to the incendiarism of some inoffensive blacks, who are made to suffer at the hands of the whites.Tom Rainsfield journeyed on his course over these plains that looked like a vastneglected hay-field; except in parts where water had lodged and formed temporary ponds or "water-holes." There it presented an area of black mud, baked hard by the power of the sun, and had absorbed so much of its heat as to render it even painful for a horse to stand upon. Tom rode under vertical rays, keeping as much as possible on the withered grass (as being more comfortable than the sun-absorbing and reflecting road), without the companionship of a fellow traveller to relieve the monotony and solitude of the way; and not daring to indulge in the consolation of a pipe, lest a stray spark should ignite the inflammable material at his feet. Miles and miles of this weary and trying travelling were passed, and Tom was not sorry when the track entered a country less open, and he once more rode through bush land.Here, too, the ground, though partially sheltered from the sun's rays, was equally devoid of feed and moisture. Not a blade ofgrass was to be seen, nor a drop of water in the creeks and water-holes. For himself, notwithstanding that his thirst was insatiable, Tom cared little; he could manage to do without a drink until he reached the end of his day's stage; but it was for the faithful animal that carried him that he anxiously scrutinized every spot likely to contain the smallest reservoir of the much coveted liquid. But his researches were all unavailing; as yet no water could he find; until at one point on the road, when he had almost given up the search as hopeless, he spied a large swamp filled with reeds, in which a herd of cattle lay almost concealed, apparently cooling themselves in the water. Here then he had no doubt he should find what he and his horse had so much desired; and hastening on to the black adamantine margin of what had formerly been a large lagoon, he witnessed a sight that struck him with dismay. Not one drop of water was visible in the extensive basin, and the cattle which he had imaginedwere luxuriating in a natural refrigerator, were dead and immovable.Such scenes are common under similar circumstances; and at times, while the country is suffering from the effects of a drought, to see cattle "bogged" in a water-hole is only thought of as a necessary consequence fully expected, and therefore hardly to be deplored. Still when witnessed by one who may be seeking that which is essential to life, to allay a thirst which may be consuming, it is enough to make the heart of such sink within him; and, though Tom was hardly in so reduced a predicament, yet he could not gaze on the unfortunate animals without some unpleasant admixture of perturbation and concern.In the swamp as many as fifty cattle had sought shelter from the heat and moisture for their thirsty tongues. But having waded through the mud, into which they had sank to their middles, they had possibly satisfied themselves for the moment with a concoctionof glutinous soil and vapid lukewarm water; but, from their exhausted strength, had not been able to extricate themselves from their miry bondage, and had consequently died in their captivity. The mud at the time of Tom's visit had perfectly hardened, and he traversed the whole bed of the swamp, in the vain hope of finding some friendly hole in which a few welcome drops might be found for his worn-out steed. But his search was fruitless, and he was at last reluctantly compelled to relinquish it, from the attacks of myriads of flies, who were disturbed at their bovine repast. He at length continued his journey with a worn-out horse and a fagged and jaded spirit, and was not a little grateful, as evening gathered its shades around, to espy the glimmer of a light from the station which was his night's destination.Tom's further progress was equally tedious and trying. The whole country seemed parched up, and it was with the greatest difficulty he could push on at all; and as thefatigue to himself and his horse necessitated him to make his day's stages much shorter than he desired, it was the sixth day from his leaving Strawberry Hill that he entered the village of Waverley on the Brisbane river.When we call this a village it is only out of courtesy that we are guilty of such a misnomer. For though, by the government plan of the township, it looks a well-arranged and thriving place, we must state, notwithstanding that building allotments had from time to time been put up at auction by the government, and we may add found purchasers, and that the existence of a public-house, rejoicing in the high-sounding title of the Royal Hotel, lent an imposing air to the place,—the gracefully tinted Queen Street, Albert Street, Prince of Wales Street, etc. etc., of the elaborate survey office map, only existed in the mind of the surveyor, and the imagination of the land-jobber. The said thriving thoroughfares remained in a state of primeval grandeur; having their boundaries marked,for the convenience of inquisitive seekers after information, by small pegs driven into the ground, and whose sole object seemed to be to lie concealed and bewilder those who might desire to find them.By the foresaid plan this town or village (or, as the Americans would say, this city) of Waverley was laid out with considerable taste. The streets were all broad and at right angles; with a market reserve; grants for church sites to various denominations of Christians; and a broad quay facing the river, either for commercial purposes or for a promenade for the inhabitants. But in reality the whole of the architecture of the place was comprised in the sole habitation, the Royal Hotel; which was built near the bank of the river, with a rough fence enclosing three sides of a piece of ground that ran down to the water's edge. This constituted the paddock for the horses of weary travellers; and, judging from the dilapidated and generally insecure state of the fence, argued the rare occurrence of a quadrupedaloccupancy. However, the sight of these little imperfections gave Tom no concern, as he was confident his animal would not attempt, in the state of fatigue to which he was reduced, to go roaming; and what gladdened his heart more than anything was the sight of what he had long been unacquainted with, fresh water. It was therefore with a considerable amount of mental relief that he rode up to the unpretending hostlery. He alighted at a door before which stood a post suspending a nondescript lamp of antideluvian construction, and bearing from its appearance questionable evidence of its ever having been submitted to the ordeal of beaconing the path of the weary traveller. On the same post was affixed a board on which the sign of the house was very plainly executed in Roman character; informing, and we think very necessarily so, the occasional visitor there was to be had accommodation for man and beast.The road leading to the Royal Hotel was not the one usually taken by travellers fromthe interior to Brisbane. But Tom had chosen it to avoid the more frequented track; knowing that in the present state of the country travelling on the latter would be much more difficult and troublesome. Therefore he had come by this secluded spot; intending to cross the river, and travel down by the northern bank to Brisbane, while the usual route was through the thriving and populous town of Ipswich, and down the southern side of the Brisbane river.Tom Rainsfield entered the inn; and having his horse taken round by the landlord to a bark shed designated a stable, where he preferred tending the animal himself, rather than leaving him to the tender mercies of a stranger, he gave him a drink of water and a feed of corn; and then placing some bush hay at his disposal, left him to practise his mastication, and make the most of his time. Having thus arranged for the comforts of his steed Tom next thought of himself; so strollinginto the house, while something was preparing to satisfy the cravings of his inward man, he walked into "the bar," to indulge in a pipe with something cheering, and amuse himself by a little conversation with the landlord. He entered the precincts of thatquarterredevoted to the worship of the rosy god, and where the ministering spirit presided, stationed behind a primitive sort of counter or bench, and at whose back stood two kegs with taps and sundry bottles arranged on a shelf. These (whatever their contents) appeared to be the stock-in-trade of the establishment; excepting a large cask which stood in a corner, and which by its appearance indicated spirituous contents, from whose bulk probably the smaller kegs were from time to time replenished. Into this sanctum then walked our friend Tom Rainsfield, and after calling for a drink, and desiring the landlord in bush fashion to join him, he lit his pipe; and taking his seat on the counter entered into the following dialogue."I shouldn't think you did much business here?""Oh, pretty fair, sir.""Why, there doesn't appear to be many who frequent this room. I should have thought it would have hardly been worth your while to have kept a house in this place.""Nor more it would if I lived by gents a-stopping at my house; for I don't get one of 'em a month. But you see them as pays me is the sawyers; there are lots of 'em about these parts, cutting timber on the hills and in the scrubs; and when they get their logs down into the river they mostly stop here a while drinking before they raft the timber over the flats on their way down to the mills. Then when they come back they generally stop a while on the spree before they go to work. So, you see, I makes a pretty good thing out of 'em; besides you see I keeps rations here as well as grog, and sell them to the fellers when they run short and ain't got no money.""But don't you often lose your money? I suppose they have none when they go to town with their rafts, and very little when they come back; that is even if they ever do come back; then I suppose you lose your score.""Oh, I manage to get it; precious few ever 'bilk' me, for I know my marks pretty well, and them as I fancy won't come back I get to pay me in timber; and I brand the logs with my own brand, and give some of the fellers I can trust so much a hundred feet to raft them down for me. But mostly the chaps come back before they have spree'd away all their money. So I gets my share, as they pay me then what they owe me, and have another go in until they 'knock down their pile.'""And how much do their 'piles' consist of?""Well, I couldn't say anything regular. I have had as much as a hundred pounds 'knocked down' by one man at a time." And as the man said this he smiled andheaved a sigh that seemed to say those were prosperous times for him. True enough it was that he had had as large a sum of money paid to him by one man; but as to the amount being actually spent, or an equivalent even in liquor supplied, is extremely doubtful; but to follow them in their conversation, Tom remarked:"And then they return to their work, I suppose, quite penniless?""Oh, yes, it is very few of them ever have any money when they get back to the scrubs; they have no use for it there, so they spend it like men.""Like fools you mean.""No I don't. What is the use of the poor man saving his money? he can't do anything with it; he can't buy any land to settle on; and he doesn't care to save up his money to be robbed of it or lose it; he works hard enough to get it, and so likes to spend it himself.""That is certainly one idea why workingmen should spend their hard-got earnings. I should have imagined that men who had laboured hard, and were living in the bush and scrubs in all sorts of discomfort, would have had some desire to better their condition, and would have accumulated means accordingly.""Not a bit of it, sir! they couldn't do anything with their money when they got it.""Could they not buy a piece of land and commence farming? Here, for instance, the land seems excellently adapted for agricultural purposes.""They can't get none, sir. The government folks won't sell any to the poor man, leastwise the poor man can't buy none, and if he wants any he is forced to buy it off the 'jobbers,' who generally screw him so much that it doesn't pay. So the fellers prefer keeping to the scrubs cutting timber; 'cos then they are not bound to work for sharpers, and can just please themselves."It was evident the landlord of the RoyalHotel did not classify himself in the category of those astute blades whom he designated by so cutting an epithet; though Tom's opinion on that head somewhat differed from "mine host's." He considered him a swindler of no ordinary magnitude, though merely a type of his class. He was one of those locusts who fattened on the hard working and reckless classes of colonial labourers; who when they are plundering their victims, even under the guise of friendship, dissuade them from frugality; expatiating on the numerous sources of fraud (excepting of course their own) to which "the poor men" would be exposed; and by their vile persuasions and chicanery too often succeeding in eliminating from the minds of those with whom they come in contact all notions of providence; and confirming them in their reckless and dissipated lives. These bush publicans are the cause of immense misery and depravity, and cannot be too harshly stigmatized for the enormity of their infamies.Tom being informed that the edibles prepared for him were awaiting his operations discontinued his dialogue, and adjourned to his epicurean repast; at which satisfactory occupation we may leave him uninterrupted. As his next day's stage would only be some five and twenty miles he determined to delay his departure until the afternoon so as to give his weary horse some additional rest; and it was therefore past noon on the following day when he mounted his nag and left the village of Waverley.In leaving the inn he traversed the bank of the river for some few hundred yards on his way to the flats where he was to cross when he overtook a man that apparently had preceded him from the inn, and they both went on together. The flats at this time were almost dry; for the water in the river had long ceased to run, and at the particular spot to which we allude, which was in ordinary times used as a ford, it could have been crossed dry-shod, while above and below it the riverremained simply currentless pools. As Tom rode down to the bed of the river he was struck with the immense number of logs that laid scattered about, some on the banks, some in the river above, and some below, where a small boat was moored, and a party of sawyers and raftmen camped. To this party Tom's companion evidently belonged, and had apparently been despatched to the public-house by his mates, as he was returning with two suspicious-looking protuberances on each side of his bosom. These, to outward appearance, very much resembled the outlines of bottles that had been thrust into the ample folds of his blue shirt for convenience and security of carriage. While trudging on the road alongside of Tom Rainsfield the fellow gave evidence of a loquacious turn of mind by commencing a conversation and inquiring if Tom was travelling to Brisbane. Upon being informed by our friend that that was his destination, and that he had come by way of Waverley to avoid the main road on accountof its desolate, dry, and feedless state, he remarked with a whimsical smile: "I suppose you think that 'ere Waverley a fine town?""It seems a very good site for a township," replied Tom. "There is good land in the vicinity, and abundance of water. I daresay in the course of a few years it will be a flourishing place.""Not a bit of it, sir," said the man; "it never will be nothing. That 'ere house of Tom Brown's, 'The Royal,' as he calls it, will be the only house in it for many a day, unless there be another public. Lor' bless you, sir, that place of his even wouldn't be nothing if it wasn't for us sawyers; we keeps old Brown alive, and he knows it.""Well, my good friend," asked Tom, "what is to prevent others settling in the town besides Tom Brown?""Why, what would be the good of it?" asked the other; "there would be nothing for them to live upon. All the trade that's done is with us sawyers, and there isn't more thanOld Brown can do himself. Besides, you see, most of the land that has been sold in the village has been bought by the swells, who keep it to make money of it when some one should want to buy.""I have no doubt," said Tom, "the land in the vicinity will eventually be sold for farming, and then the growth of the village arising from the trade that will ensue will be rapid.""Ah! there it is, sir. You see the squatters have got all the land now for their sheep to feed on, and a poor man as has got a pound or two, and wants a few acres, can't get 'em no how.""But the government is continually putting up land for sale," said Tom; "and if any man desired to avail himself of the opportunity surely he could attend the sales and effect a purchase.""No, sir, they couldn't," said the man; "for, you see, suppose I'm working here in the bush and want to buy a bit of ground, how am I to know when there is any for sale? They willperhaps mark out a few farms near Brisbane, or Ipswich, and put 'em for sale, and they are sold off, or leastwise the best of 'em, before I or any of my mates know anything about it; or if so be as how I should get to hear of it and go to the sale, there's so many people wanting 'em, perhaps gents who maybe live in town, and want paddocks for their horses, that they will give better prices than I can give; so, you see, I don't get half a chance. If I want a bit of land to farm I think I ought to be able to get it anywhere I like just as easy as the squatter can get his country. Axing your pardon, sir, I suppose you're a squatter?""That's true, my good man," replied Tom; "but I think myself that the restrictions on the land are vastly injurious to the country, though I doubt, even if every facility was given to the working man to procure land if he would avail himself of the opportunity; and, instead of being of benefit to him in the way intended, I question if the land wouldnot fall into the hands of 'jobbers.' Such a state of things is equally, if not more, to be deprecated than the present system of permitting it to remain in the possession of the squatters; for now it is made available for pasturage; whereas then it would be allowed to lie unproductive until such a time as the speculator could see an opportunity of a profitable realization.""There would be plenty of us would buy lands and settle on them," said the man, "if we only had the chance. Now if you like, sir, I'll just tell you a case."Tom, though he knew all the man said was perfectly true, offered no objection to the narrative, being desirous of eliciting from him his notions on the subject, which was a much vexed one in the whole colony, and purposely encouraged him to launch as deeply into it as he thought fit."It is about my brother, sir," said the man, "so I know it is quite true, and you may believe it. We both came to this countrytogether about seven years ago, and took to cutting timber and rafting because it paid well those times; and we made plenty of money, though we spent it as fast as we got it. But somehow my brother didn't join much with the other fellows, for he always was a steady chap, but took to saving his money, and 'you may believe me,' it wasn't long before he had got 'a pile,' of more than two hundred pounds. Now, sir, you see, when Bill (that was his name) had saved all that money nothing would do him but he must have a bit of ground and commence farming. There was a talk then of some land being marked out somewhere near this 'ere town of Waverley; so Bill thought he would like to have a few acres hereabouts better than anywhere else. He asked some one who knew all about that sort of thing how he should go about it to buy some, and the chap told him that he ought to go to Brisbane and ask of the surveyors. So off he went to what they call the survey office, and told thebig-wig there that he wanted to buy some land. Now this card showed him a lot of plans of where, he said, they had land for sale; and Bill looks at 'em and took directions, and went into the bush to have a look at 'em. But he found 'em to be no good; they was only lots that had been left at the government sales, when all the best pieces had been sold, and the ironbark ranges and quartzy or barren gravelly country left; so he wouldn't buy any of 'em, and told the chap in the office that he wanted some at Waverley; but he told him he couldn't have none there as it wasn't surveyed."Now the party Bill stopped with put him up to a wrinkle how he would get the land he wanted to be surveyed 'cos he knew how to manage it. He got up a requisition, or made an application, to have some lands on the Brisbane river at Waverley surveyed and put up for sale, and sent it to the government, as he said that was the sure way to get it. But it was no go; the survey chaps toldhim that all the land thereabouts was leased to squatters, and they couldn't touch it; but, says they, if you want a nice piece of country there is some out here on the river, about five miles away, that we are going to measure off into farms directly, and they will just suit you; so, says they to my brother, just you go out and have a look at them. Well, Bill went to look at 'em, and, sure enough, they was first-rate land, so he said to himself I'll have a farm there, and that's settled. But he was all wrong; for he didn't get a farm there an' nowhere else as I shall tell you."When he came back, after having see'd the land, he went to the office and told the people that that place would just suit him, and he would take a farm and buy it right off. But they laughed at him, and told him that he couldn't buy it before it was surveyed, but that in a short time, a week or so at most, they would have it all right and ready for sale; so Bill thought he might make the best of it and wait. A couple ofweeks passed and he went to them, but it was not done; so he waited another week or two, and went back again, when they told him that they had had no time to see to it, but were going to do so very shortly. So he waited another month, and then enquired, when they had the cheek to tell him that they were obliged to put it off for they could not attend to it at all, having so much work to do at other places; but that if he would come back to town in about three months it would be all ready for sale."Now Bill was bent upon having one of them farms, so, instead of letting the surveyor chaps, and the farms too, go to—where-ever they liked for their humbugging, he came back to the bush to work for the three months, and then went to town again to look after the land. But when he went to the office even then the fellers hadn't surveyed it; and instead of telling him like men that they were only humbugging him, and never intended to do it at all, they commencedtheir little games again, and told him that the surveyors were then at work on a particular job, but that as soon as they were done there they would go to the land he was waiting for. Well, sir, it's no good my telling you all the ins and outs of it; but the long and the short of it is they kept Bill in a string for six months, and then they didn't do the work, and I don't know if it is done now; so, you see, that's how us poor men can't get any land.""I believe what you complain of is perfectly true," said Tom. "The system is much to be deplored, but I hope it will shortly be improved. Unless a man is on the spot, and can wait for an opportunity, such as when a sale occurs, there is certainly very little chance for him; and men that are employed in the bush very rarely if ever have that chance.""Just so, sir," said the man."And what did your brother do with his money after having so much of it and his time wasted in looking after this land?""Ah, sir! there is what makes me cursethe land, and the surveyors, and all the lot, for it killed Bill, and there never was a better feller breathing. I'll tell you how it was, sir. I told you Bill was a steady chap; he never used to drink, anyhow not to spree, you know; but, you'll guess, no man could stop at a public-house for six months doing nothing without getting on the spree. Bill used to walk up and down on the verandah at the public where he stopped, and smoke his pipe, while he thought how them fellers at the survey office were a-treating of him, and he got miserable like in his spirits. So when fellows got to know him, and used to come into the house, they'd ask him to take a nobbler with them; and somehow, you see, though he didn't do nothing of the sort at first, he was soon glad to get some one to join him in a drink, and being at it all day, you know, he used to get very drunk at times; so he went on until at last he was always drunk. Now Bill all this time had been keeping his money by him, so that he would be ready, when hewanted it, to buy his farm. So, what with always having plenty of money 'to shout' for other fellers (for you know, sir, he was a stunning feller to shout when he got a little bit screwed), and the lots of fellers as always stuck to him when they knew he got 'tin,' he very soon got 'cleared out;' and one day, after a tremendous spree, when he had been drunk for more than a week, he got 'the horrors,' and started to come home to the scrub. I never saw him after that, sir; for he got drowned in one of the creeks on the road, and was found by some shingle splitters soon afterwards without a shilling in his pocket; so that's what he got, poor fellow, for trying to turn farmer. Now you see, sir, we don't see the good of doing like that; so we never trouble ourselves about saving any money, and we are a deal better off, and a happier, than them as do."Tom did not attempt to refute the sophistry of this argument as he was aware that it would be useless. He knew that the case ofthis man's brother was by no means a solitary one; for not only had the suicidal policy of the colonial government with regard to the disposal of the waste lands been instrumental in the destruction of numerous victims similar to this unsophisticated sawyer; but it was absolutely driving that entire class of men into reckless extravagance and dissipation. Whereas a liberal land policy would not only have engendered a spirit of providence, but have offered an inducement, and have proved a stimulus, to the country's settlement by a thriving rural population.But the ministerial Solons of the country could not be induced to view the subject in that light; hence this deplorable state of morality and improvidence, which unfortunately pervades the great bulk of the country population. In urban localities the evil is not so severely felt, as a steady and industrious mechanic, with his accumulated savings, is enabled to purchase a town allotment (which allotments are just frequently enoughthrust into the market by the government as to keep the demand in excess of the supply), and to build on it a house, which he erects by degrees, as his means admit. Thereby, in course of a short time, he gathers round him in the land of his adoption a comfortable little freehold property. Thus it is, nearly all the town workmen who are possessed of any savings convert them into something substantial; but for the bushmen no such opportunity exists; and hence it follows, that the towns-people are generally industrious, steady, and frugal, while those of the bush are too frequently the reverse."That certainly was a melancholy end for your brother," said Tom to his companion, resuming the conversation that had lapsed for a few minutes."Yes, sir, it was; and if Bill, poor fellow, had just been content to stick to the scrub like us he would most likely have been 'still to the fore.' You see, sir, we live a jolly life; are quite contented, and spend our moneywhile we've got it. Now those fellows over there," continued the man as he pointed to the sawyer's camp, in sight of which they had just arrived, "not one of 'em would give up his life to go and work in town if you paid him ever so high wages.""I've no doubt their mode of life is fascinating; but still I should think the heavy drinking in which they indulge sometimes impairs their health and constitution.""Not a bit, sir! We never feel anything the worse for a spree, nor in anyways sick; 'cos you see we work hard, and most always live in the bush; so we are always healthy.""I've no doubt that will preserve you in a great measure; but still you must be perfectly aware that, even if you never experience any deleterious effects, you continually leave yourself destitute; and if anything in the way of sickness should happen to you, so as to incapacitate you for work, you would not only starve, but die from neglect and want of proper treatment."Don't you believe it, sir! There would be no fear of my wanting anything. Do you think if one of my mates was sick now that I wouldn't share with him what money I'd got, or that I wouldn't look after him as if he was my brother? In course I would, and if I got sick my mates would do the same for me."By this time Tom and his companion had half crossed the bed of the river; and noticing the plans the men had adopted to get their timber over the flats, Tom commenced a fresh interrogation to elicit from his travelling concomitant some information on the usual mode of procedure. As the subject may have some degree of interest to a few of our readers we will give in our own words the substance of the dialogue, craving permission to premise it by a remark or two on the general life and movements of sawyers.They are a class of men who exist during the greater portion of the year in the bushand scrubs bordering on the rivers and creeks, where they unceasingly and uninterruptedly practise their vocations. They generally work in gangs, either on equal shares or on wages to one of their number, who may be more thoughtful than the rest; and one who, notwithstanding a fair share of dissipation, may have accumulated, possibly through the influence of a thrifty wife, some considerable means. The classes of timber most in demand, and therefore most sought for by these men, are cedar and pine; which are procured separately, in certain localities, in great abundance. This local segregation of the woods is a characteristic of the Australian bush, and more than anything else tends to create that monotony which is everywhere perceptible. It causes the eye of the traveller to weary as he looks continually on the leafless bare-looking trunks of the blue gum (which without intermission meets his gaze for miles and miles on the lonely road) or the sombre-looking ironbark that with equal pertinacitymonopolizes the ranges. Rarely, if ever, will an admixture of timbers be found to any extent; and, consequently, those sawyers who cut pine leave the cedar scrubs to be visited by the others; andvice versa.The timber is usually cut in the dry season; and the trees after being cleared of their limbs and foliate appendages, and denuded of their bark, are drawn by the means of a bullock team to the nearest creek or river, where they are deposited until such time as the rains sufficiently swell the streams to float them from their resting-places. With an iron brand in the shape of a punch, and a hammer, each cutter on the end of every log indelibly marks his own property; and as the logs are removed from their beds by the rising current, a staple is driven into each. Through this a chain is passed, when the whole are collected into one raft, and securely moored to wait, in their transit down the stream, the pleasure of the proprietor. The time usually chosen to raft the timber is when the rivers are moderatelyhigh after rains; or, in the parlance of the upper part of the country, when there is "a flood," and in the lower, when there is "a fresh" in the river. They are then started in their downward course either by the directing aid of a small boat (if the ascent of the stream is practicable for it) or under the guidance of some of the party; who make a firm footing for themselves on their floating platform, by sheets of bark and foliage. They then trust themselves to the current, while they guide the course of the raft with poles until they come to flats. When the rivers are to any extent swollen, or (as it is said in the country) "running," the rafts usually pass over without difficulty; but if the water is low, and the flats barely covered, the passage is necessarily not so easily effected, and frequently impossible. Such then was the case at the Waverley flats at the time of which we write. And it was with the water almost at the lowest ebb that the party Tom saw had been endeavouring to float over theirraft; the process for which they had adopted we now propose to explain.It is necessary at some point to have a boat to assist the raftmen in their guidance of the unwieldy mass, and one is usually kept by them for that purpose at the highest point to which it can be conveniently brought. After escaping all impediments the boat takes the raft in tow; and, as it progresses on the stream and comes within the action of tides, on the occasion of each flowing, the party have to draw their raft into the bank, and camp until the return of the ebb. In their journey to the mills rarely more than three or four of the party, including the proprietor if not a joint stock affair, accompany the timber; while the remainder pursue their occupation of cutting.The party that was camped at the Waverley flats consisted of five individuals in all. They had been working in shares for some months collecting the raft they then had with them, and were all accompanying it to the mills tosell it and have the proceeds equally distributed. But the season having been an unusually dry one they had here met with an effectual check, and had no alternative but to wait for rain.When they first reached the flats the water was just running over them, but not sufficiently deep to admit of the passage of their property; so the fellows had recourse to the expedient of forming "a race" to effect their purpose, and this they had accomplished in the following way: A few of the logs were drawn up and arranged longitudinally from either bank of the river in an oblique direction to a focus in the centre of the flat; from this point the logs were arranged parallel to one another right across the bank to the deep water below. They were then all firmly staked into the soil, and the interstices between and below them were packed so as to perfect a dam or barrier to the water. The result of this plan as is evident was that the water flowing over the flat was confined to the narrow channelbetween the parallel logs, and thereby attained a higher elevation and a swifter current. To the mouth of this impromptu canal, then, the sawyers brought the logs one by one, and they were made, with very little guiding, to shoot through the passage with speed and precision. After getting nearly a hundred of the logs in this manner over the impediment, the water continuing to fall, eventually left them with not even sufficient to make their sluice available; so, with fully half their raft fixed above the flat, the men were compelled to be idle until they had sufficient water to float the remainder over.Tom had expressed surprise to his companion that he and his mates did not proceed with the timber that had passed the flat, and leave some of their companions behind to watch for the flood in the river, and secure the others as they should descend. He pointed out that by that means they would, in all probability, have got their first raft down to the mills, and had time to return before the rainscame on. But this, his companion told him, the sawyers were afraid to risk, because, he said, if the river rose rapidly, which they fully expected, they would want all their number on the spot, otherwise they might lose half the timber. Besides, in the absence of their boat, it would be an impossibility to secure any of the logs if they should be washed over. "And then," he continued, "we have been expecting the rain to commence every day for weeks past." So it was deemed advisable by the whole party to await the rising of the river; and, even watchful as they were, they fully expected that if the flood came upon them at all suddenly, they would lose a considerable number of the logs.After crossing the river (or rather the bed of it), and leaving the sawyers' party, Tom Rainsfield leisurely pursued his journey; and, after riding for about twenty miles or so, he could perceive, by the nature of the country and the occasional appearance of "improvements," that he was approaching the town ofBrisbane. Towards dark the road led him through lines of fences, and past a few cottages and cultivated fields, and thence by detached buildings, until he finally entered the town and put up at his hotel not at all dissatisfied at the completion of his journey. The country, even to town, had equally suffered by the drought. Hardly a vestige of herbage was to be seen on the whole surface of the ground, and the mortality amongst the beasts was fearful, and painfully perceptible from the fulsome malaria in the atmosphere. Tom's horse was reduced to a perfect shadow, and was so weak that when he reached the inn he could hardly drag one foot after another, and certainly could not have existed another day with a continuation of his privations. Hence Tom was additionally delighted when he drew rein at the Crown Hotel, and permitted his weary and faithful animal to be led away to the stables, while he proceeded to refresh himself in a manner most pleasant after his own fatigues.CHAPTER VIII."Ye glittering towns, with wealth and splendour crown'd,Ye fields, where summer spreads profusion round,Ye lakes, whose vessels catch the busy gale,Ye bending swains, that dress the flow'ry vale."Goldsmith.When Tom Rainsfield arrived in Brisbane he found it entirely absorbed in politics, and the public attention so engaged in the all-important question of separation that even the deplorable state in which the country then was in was for the time forgotten. Business for the nonce was entirely relinquished, and the good citizens were in a perfect ferment of exultation, consequent on the receipt of joyous news. As a few remarksrespecting the topography of the place, and the nature of the people's agitation, may not be here amiss we will endeavour to describe and trace their progress through their various phases to the date of our narrative.The town of Brisbane is pleasantly situated on a picturesque and meandering river of the same name, about twenty miles from the point where it disembogues into Moreton Bay. Passing its first establishment it was not until the year 1840 that it was resorted to for the purposes of trade. In that year drays first crossed "the range" by Cunningham's Gap; and the squatters, who were then pushing on in the settlement of the interior, discovered that this place could be made a convenient port for the shipment of their produce to Sydney. The place, however, being only a convict settlement free settlers were prohibited from approaching it; and it was only by a special application to the government that on the following year the land on the south bank of the river was surveyed andlaid out for a township, and a residence for the purposes of trade permitted. The following year the convicts were wholly withdrawn from the district, and the land that had been blighted by their occupancy was thrown open to the public. From this period then, viz., 1842, is to be dated the settlement of Moreton Bay, when the whole free population of the district might have been numbered by dozens, and when the first regular communication with Sydney was established.The town of Brisbane at that time, and even for years afterwards, consisted only of a few wooden huts; and, with the exception of the government buildings which had been erected during the penal era for the housing and confinement of the convicts stationed there, not a decent or substantial edifice existed. A few acres of ground had been cleared by the prisoners for cultivation immediately round the settlement, and at two places situated on the river below the town, respectively two and seven miles distant; butotherwise the wilderness remained in its primeval condition.The town on the northern bank of the river, which was much better situated (both in a commercial and residentiary point of view) than that on the southern, rapidly attracted the attention of speculators and settlers. It was situated in a spacious pocket, caused by a bend in the river, and flanked by gently undulating ridges. It was judiciously laid out; with wide rectangular streets, commodious reserves for public purposes, and was possessed of almost unbounded water frontage, which could afford accommodation for a large commercial intercourse. One of the boons left to the public upon the withdrawal of the convicts and military, besides the court-house, hospital, and barracks, was a botanical garden. It had been constructed for the especial pleasure and accommodation of the officers and other officials of the settlement, and became after their departure a very acceptable legacy to the people.The young settlement prospered amazingly as it became more peopled by the streams of immigration from the southern parts of the colony. The squatters who had advanced with their flocks and herds from the occupied districts in the southern interior speedily formed stations in actual contiguity to the township; which was daily increasing its trade, as its intercourse with the interior became more settled and developed. The architectural appearance of the town for years showed no improvement; and the comfort of the inhabitants was little thought of in its commercial prosperity. Large sums were annually gathered into the government coffers from the sale of the lands in the township, but nothing was ever done by the ruling powers to improve its condition; and it was allowed to remain in that state in which it had left the hands of the surveyors. The lines of the streets were certainly marked, but no levels were fixed; and the idea of drainage never entered the minds of thepeople's rulers. In fact, though the government, as we have said, continued from year to year to derive large revenues from the sale of these town lands, they never deemed it necessary to expend a fraction in even the formation of the streets; and hence, after twelve years from its occupation by a free population, it was, like all other bush towns in the country, in a wretched and deplorable condition. After rains the so-called streets became perfectly impassable, even to foot passengers; and the principal thoroughfare was frequently the course of a swollen torrent, that had in successive years worn for itself a bed, interspersed with deep holes, which rendered it absolutely dangerous to venture amongst its snares after dark. The extorting policy of the government had always been to sacrifice the interests of the distant settlers for a centralized aggrandizement; or, in other words, the revenues derived from this or any other country district were applied, not solely to the defraying of the expense oflegislative machinery, but to the improvement and embellishment of Sydney, and other works that had no local importance to the out-lying districts. This was one of the main grievances that induced the settlers in later years to petition for separation from the parent colony. But we are anticipating.The advance of the district after its settlement continued with rapid strides; and the labour requirements of the settlers kept continually in advance of the supply. So that much inconvenience was felt by the employers at the paucity of industrial bone and muscle procurable in the district. For years the squatters were compelled to draw their supply of labour from the Sydney market, an exceedingly expensive and by no means satisfactory expedient, until the year 1848, when the influx of direct immigration commenced. From this date ships at repeated intervals have discharged their living freight on the shores of Moreton Bay, where they have speedily met engagements at high ratesof wages, and become absorbed in the increasing population.The first labourers introduced into the district were by private intervention, and though extraneous to our tale, we may be pardoned for mentioning it here. The prime mover of this scheme was the Rev. Dr. Lang, who was at the time a member of the Colonial legislature, and than whom no greater benefactor to the colonies, and no sterner advocate for the rights and privileges of the colonists existed or exists. He was foremost in all works of reform and public utility. He seemed to be gifted with a prescience of the colonist's requirements, and was indefatigable in his exertions for their advancement and amelioration. He is the antipodean agitator, and the acknowledged benefactor of his fellow colonists in their land of adoption. Many of the privileges of the Australian constitution owe their existence to Dr. Lang's indomitable perseverance and skill, and many of the most sapient enactments bear the impress of hismental perspicuity. He is the father of Australia, and his name will long remain to the people "as familiar as household words."Perceiving the great want of labour in the new settlement he was the first who took any active part in the procuration of the desideratum. In pursuit of this object in the year 1846 or 1847 he introduced a bill into the legislature of New South Wales, having for its object the introduction of an industrial class of immigrants into Moreton Bay. His proposed plan was to induce the government to offer a small grant of land to every immigrant arriving in the colony at his own expense, equivalent to the amount of money actually paid for the passage. But the project met with some opposition from the ministry of the day, and not until after considerable perseverance did he receive assurances of their assent. Being suddenly called to England on private affairs Dr. Lang left his pet scheme in the hands of a colleagueto procure for it the formal sanction of the country; and he commenced to act upon the assurance given him in the colonies by organizing a system of emigration during his stay in England. This was in the years 1847 and 1848, when, after continually drawing the attention of the middle classes of Great Britain to the eligibility of Moreton Bay as a place for emigration, and holding out the inducement of remission of the passage-money emigrants would pay in an equivalent grant of land in the colonies, he succeeded in the latter year in despatching three ships freighted with intending settlers. Their arrival in the colony, though of considerable benefit to the community there established, was fraught with many inconveniences and privations to themselves. The Colonial government ignored their title to grants of land; and the newly arrived immigrants found themselves, upon landing in the country, disappointed in their expectations, many of them destitute, and all in a place hardly reclaimed from thewilderness of the bush, where no preparation had been made for their reception. They were, therefore, disgusted with what they considered the fraud that had been practised upon them, and were loud in their declamation of those who had enticed them from their comfortable homes to be subjected to the misery and discomforts they had then to endure. Under these circumstances piteous were the communications made to friends in the "fatherland," and dreadful the detail of their distress in the far distant land of promise.Their case, however, attracted some little notice from the local authorities, and a piece of land adjoining the town was allotted them, on which to erect dwellings. On this they settled, calling it Fortitude Valley, from the name of one of the vessels that had conveyed them thither; and when they got over their mortification, and gave their minds to industry, they speedily transformed the almost impenetrable bush into a scene of lifeand animation. The first privations of settlement very soon succumbed to comfort and independence, and "the valley" shortly became a populous suburb of the town of Brisbane, and, at the period of our story, closely approximated to, if not equalled it, in population. The settlers themselves, introduced under so unfavourable auspices, were not long in immensely improving their condition, and many of them, in the course of a few years, rose to positions of comfort, eminence, and opulence; and if they ever reverted to the period of their immigration, must have done so with feelings of thankfulness and satisfaction.From this period the influx of population continued, and the condition in which the district flourished may be gathered from the following tables:—The entire districtIn 1846,contained2,257souls1851,"10,296"1856"22,232"And was estimated,In 1861,to contain30,000souls.The town of Brisbane, of which we wish more particularly to allude,In 1846,contained about500souls1851,the population was2,500"1856," " "4,400"And in 1861was calculated to contain8,000"Brisbane presents now a far different aspect to what it did some few years back. As we have said, it is pleasantly and, both in a sanitary and commercial point of view, admirably situated. From an obscure settlement in the bush it has become a thriving town, with some good streets, substantial stone and brick houses, stores, warehouses, and wharves, and with shops that would not disgrace many a fashionable thoroughfare in the British metropolis. It is possessed of spacious and commodious government buildings, a gaol, mechanics' school of arts, an hospital, severalbanking establishments, and fully a dozen churches and other places of worship. The surrounding country, that was only a few years before a wild waste, has mostly been cleared and put under cultivation; and the banks of the river far above, and considerably below the town, are studded with farms and gentlemen's seats, some elegantly and tastefully constructed with a view both to comfort and the exigencies of the climate. The town is further possessed of two steam saw-mills; one daily, and another bi-weekly newspaper; weekly steam and continual sailing communication with Sydney, and a dawning direct trade with England. Five steamers ply on the river, and a daily coach runs by land to Ipswich, and an export trade is done to the extent of considerably over half a million sterling annually. The climate is salubrious—the heat ranging, in the shade, between the means of 80° in summer, and 50° in winter; and the soil of the neighbourhood has been proved to be productive of a greater variety of plants than anyother country in the world. Coupled with wheat, oats, barley, potatoes, peas, and a variety of other English edibles, its products comprise many of a tropical nature, the practicability of the growth of which has been fully demonstrated. Bananas, pine-apples, pumpkins, melons, figs, grapes, peaches, maize, and sweet potatoes, are common articles of culture; while indigo, arrow-root, sugar-cane, and cotton, flourish as in their native climes.Of the latter product we would fain say a few wordsen passant, as its production of late has been a question that has been much agitated in Great Britain, and received some attention in the colonies. We believe the experiment of its growth was first tried upon the joint suggestion of an influential settler of New South Wales, Mr. T. S. Mort of Sydney, and the Rev. Dr. Lang. The former gentleman procured a supply of the best sea-island American seed, and also an instrument called "a gin" for cleaning the seed from the cotton, and placed them at the disposal of the settlersof Moreton Bay. The seeds were planted, germinated, and yielded cotton of the first description; but difficulties arose which cultivators were unable to surmount. The first was the impracticable nature of the instrument they were possessed of for cleaning. It was found to be useless, and all similar apparatuses that were subsequently introduced, and constructed on ideas suggested to the minds of local mechanical geniuses, equally failed to perform the requisite work with cleanliness and precision. Though this was in itself almost insurmountable, the greatest drawback to the culture of the cotton was the rainy weather, which usually set in just as the cotton was ripening; destroying the crop, and inflicting serious loss on the cultivator. It was, however, discovered that in the Moreton Bay climate the plant became a perennial; and that, after the first year's growth, the pods ripened considerably earlier and avoided the wet weather; while the staple of the cottonimproved with the age of the plant. Satisfactory as was this discovery, the first failure militated against its general cultivation; for most of the farmers in the district, being dependent for their subsistence on their yearly crops, could not afford to experimentalize, notwithstanding that they were certain of an ultimately remunerative crop. A subsequent attempt to cultivate the cotton was tried with no better success. Though the staple was produced none of the cleaning machines to be had were efficacious; and no means being procurable to extract the seed from the cotton, it was sent to England in its raw state to be separated there. The cotton was cleaned by hand-labour in some of the penitentiaries of the "old country;" and when submitted to judges of the article, was pronounced to be the finest specimen ever introduced into the country. But these repeated failures damped the cotton-growing ardour of the people; and, being able otherwise moreprofitably to employ their labour and capital, they permitted its culture to be abandoned.That cotton will eventually become a large export from this district we have no hesitation in affirming, and we believe that the time is not far distant when capitalists in England, interested in the cotton trade, will take up the matter and embark in it. It is an undertaking which we are confident, from the reasons we have expressed, would be found remunerative even with the application of free European labour, and be of considerable benefit to the manufacturers and consumers of the staple. It has been frequently argued in the colony where it was grown that the expense of labour would eat up the whole proceeds of the cotton. But this we are disposed to dispute for many cogent reasons. In the first place, notwithstanding the many assertions to the contrary, Europeans can work at all times in the open air, even under the scorching rays of a mid-summer sun; while the value of the cotton produced, by the peculiaradaptation of the soil, has been found to be of a superior character to even the finest American or Egyptian productions; and, from the fact of the necessity of annual planting being avoided, the expense of production after the first year is reduced by more than one half. These facts at once disarm of its force the statement that cotton cultivators in Queensland could not compete with slave-grown produce without the aid of cheap coolie or lascar labour.The postulation that without Asiatic skill and economy the cotton cultivation is a chimera, has been assumed by a few interested parties in the colonies, and reverberated by them from mouth to mouth among their own party, without a solitary echo from the mass of the people. It has been advanced in ignorance, and persevered in in dogmatical obstinacy, to the entire subversion of reason and the results of experience. The theory has arisen in a desire of personal aggrandizement by its advocates, who have never dreamt of the consequences that would accrue from aninflux of heathenism and depravity, or the detraction from the honour of the colony, and the degradation of our labouring fellow-countrymen and colonists. It is happily only a party cry, and that only of so meagre a nature, that it is almost an inaudible squeak. But though insignificant as it is in the country where it originated, by its propagation and circulation in the press, its virus has been made to travel through the entire arterial system of the commonwealth; which is thus made to believe in the moral gangrene of this distant member of the empire. But to return.Before we allowed ourselves to be led into the foregoing digression we spoke of the land and water communication to the town of Ipswich; which reminds us of the existence of that important town; and of which we also crave permission, while on our topographical subject, to say a few words.Ipswich, or as it was originally called, Limestone, from the quantity of that mineral which pervaded the neighbourhood, is situatedon the Bremer river, which falls into the Brisbane. It is distant from the town of Brisbane about twenty-five miles by land, and sixty by water, and is stationed at the highest navigable point on either stream. It was formerly used by the government as a station for the sheep and cattle of the settlement during the penal times; and, upon the withdrawal of the prisoners, it was, like its sister settlement, declared a township, surveyed, and thrown open to the public. The first land in it was sold in Brisbane in the year 1843; but for three years afterwards the town made little progress. With the exception of a brick cottage that had been erected for the overseer in charge of the military and prisoners stationed there while it was a government establishment, and which, after the break up, was converted into a public-house to afford accommodation and allay the thirst of wayfarers to and fro between Brisbane and the interior, few buildings, even of the most makeshift description, were erected. The place hadas then attracted little or no attention; for the traffic passed it on its way without any further stoppage than what a bush public-house is expected to effect among the bullock-drivers and draymen, while the drays came right down to Brisbane without any interruption to their loads.During the time of its attachment to the penal settlement at Brisbane the communication between the two places had been maintained by the means of boats and punts, in which the supplies of the station were brought up, and live stock for consumption, and lime requisite for the works at the township, returned. No doubt, acting on this knowledge, the idea occurred to an enterprising settler of the district that the traffic could be diverted from the road to the river, and would be advantageous in the saving of time and trouble consequent on the primitive style of land carriage in vogue. He therefore started a small steamer in the year last mentioned, viz., 1846, to ply between the two places;and though not successful in his project, so far as his own pocket was concerned, the soundness of his conjectures was patent in the benefits that resulted. The advancement of Ipswich may be dated from that period, since which its progress has been extraordinarily rapid, and even bids fair to maintain the race with the sister town with some degree of success.Though Ipswich is admirably situated for the purposes of trade with the interior, it is by no means so eligible a site for a town, nor so well planned out as Brisbane. Its streets are narrow, and have been lined by the surveyors without any regard to levels or the "lay" of the country. It is situated in a hollow, so that the drainage falls into the centre of the town, while the surrounding hills preclude the possibility of approach of any of those breezes which are so deliciously refreshing during sultry summer weather. The buildings, on the whole, are creditable, and even fine for so young a place, though byno means equal to those of Brisbane; and its peculiar characteristics are, bullock-drays, dirty streets, and public-houses. It is, however, a busy, thriving town; and if in the selection of its site a little more judicious forethought had been exercised, and more consideration for comfort, health, and amenity displayed in its surveying, it might have been made, with its beautiful surrounding scenery, as pretty a spot as could have been desired. But in this, as in every other case in the colonies since their foundation, the only thing that has been exhibited is the cupidity of the government, whose only desire has ever been to realise as much as possible from the sales of land, with as little outlay as practicable. Hence the inhabitants are doomed to live in a place that, upon the minutest visitation of rain, becomes a perfect "slough of despond;" and from its concave situation, when under a vertical sun, is at least ten degrees warmer than any other place in the district.This, then, is the point to which all thetraffic now converges in its passage to Brisbane, and diverges in its transit to the interior—the highway between the two points being the river, while the road is merely used for the lighter traffic of a few equestrians and light vehicles. Such is the alteration, and we may of course add improvement, in the appearance of the country by the influence of civilisation consequent on the settlement of the district; and so rapidly has it taken place that if any of the old official residents, who only knew it in its infancy of freedom, were again to visit it, we have no hesitation in saying they would not credit their senses. We are aware that in all new colonies, where capital, industry, and perseverance are brought to bear upon the barren wastes, the speedy transition to a smiling scene of plenty is the inevitable result. But in most there is an air of freshness about everything, which proclaims it a new place; while in those towns of Moreton Bay the case is very different. They seem almost to have sprung into maturity at once; and,especially in Brisbane, there is a something about it so thoroughly English, that were it not for the luxuriant growth of exotics, the heavy timber on the adjacent hills, and the tropical appearance in the architecture of some of the suburban dwellings which instantly strike the eye, a stranger could hardly bring himself to believe this was the last formed of Britain's colonies; while we can affirm it is already far from the meanest.Before taking leave of this local subject we beg permission here to introduce a little episode that is characteristic of the relationship that existed between the two towns, or rather the settlement and the station, before the advent that proclaimed the country open to free settlers. Towards the latter end of the penal, or military, administration, the district was visited by a fearful flood that swept over the face of the country and rendered all travelling, either by land or water, perfectly impracticable. The intercourse, therefore, between Brisbane and Limestone was entirelysevered, and for weeks no communication could be attempted. At the station, during this stoppage, the supplies began to run short (it never having been deemed necessary to anticipate such an emergency), and the residents were soon suffering serious privations from the want of their necessary rations. No boats or horses were at the station at the time, so that they were unable to intimate to the authorities below the state in which they were situated. The officials at Limestone waited from day to day in the vain hope of seeing the waters recede, and the means of communication re-established, but they were disappointed. The flood continued at its height, and starvation was almost staring them in the face. In this emergency the officer in charge of the prisoners offered a free pardon to any who would accomplish the voyage to the settlement, and report there the distress the people at Limestone were suffering.The passage was undertaken by two of the men, who knew that success was freedom,and that failure's concomitant was death. One took the track through the bush and perished, possibly by being washed away while attempting the crossing of some swollen creek, but the other was more successful, and succeeded in reaching the township in safety, where he communicated the intelligence of the destitution at Limestone, and had the gratification of relieving his former companions, and securing his freedom. Supplies were immediately forwarded to the famished station on pack-horses, which, only after surmounting considerable difficulties and dangers, succeeded in reaching their destination. This passage was one of the boldest and most extraordinary feats on colonial record, and, considering the manner in which it was effected, freedom was certainly not too great a reward. It was accomplished by the man tracing the course of the river, travelling by land where such was practicable, and taking to the river and swimming where it was not. When it is remembered that all thelow and flat parts of the country were under water, and that it was computed half the distance of the journey, or nearly thirty miles, was traversed in the swollen stream, with a flying current and eddying pools, and amidst trees and otherdebris, swarming with reptiles and insects brought down from the mountains and clustered on the floating masses, some conception may be formed of what the intrepid courier had gone through. But to return again to our narrative.The period of which we write is the summer of 1857, when the cry of "separation" resounded through the country. Some time previous to this the colonists had received intimation of the intention of her Majesty's government to erect Moreton Bay into a separate state amongst the group of Australian colonies. But at this period, as we have already stated, fresh despatches had been received, in which the boundaries and a sketch of its constitution were defined, and the inhabitants were deep in the contemplation ofthese topics. We fear that this disquisition on history and politics may be considered an interpolation foreign to the nature of our work, and uninteresting to the majority of our readers; but we must excuse ourselves for an encroachment upon the prerogative of the historian, on the ground that we wish the indulgent public to have a correct idea of the historical, as well as the physical and social, nature of Queensland. We would, therefore, throw ourselves again on the leniency of our readers, while we trace, as succinctly as possible, the origin and growth of the separation movement.For some years previous to the year 1851 the colonists of Port Philip had agitated the question of separation from the colony of New South Wales, and in that year their efforts were crowned with success, their district being, by imperial decree, erected into a separate colony under the name of Victoria. The instigator and prime mover in this matter had been the Rev. Dr. Lang; and at thecommencement of the same year he organized an agitation for a similar dismemberment of the Moreton Bay or northern districts.The inhabitants of those districts, groaning under the habitual neglect of a distantly removed and selfish government, were not slow to respond to the call of the agitator. The first meeting to consider the subject, which was held in January 1851, resulted in the despatch of petitions to the throne, praying for an immediate separation from New South Wales, and an establishment as an independent state. They enumerated among the general grievances, the remoteness of the district from the seat of government, the inadequate representation in the legislature, the confirmed neglect and inattention of their rulers to their requirements, the total absorption of their revenues for the improvement of the capital, and the impossibility to procure the outlay of any money on absolutely necessary works; in fact the total subversion of the rights of the inhabitants, and thegeneral inconvenience experienced by a connexion with New South Wales.Much as the consummation was desiderated by all parties in the district the people were divided into two bodies in the views which they took of the subject; and each party drew up its own petition, and forwarded it to England. One faction, and by far the most numerous and intelligent, demanded a "free" separation, with the untrammelled administration of their own affairs; while the other, principally composed of the squatters in the interior, were contented with petitioning for separation, with a reversion to the old penal system. Their object being to have convicts sent to the new colony, and to procure their labour by the old iniquitous "assigning" system.
"Till taught by pain,Men really know not what good water's worth."Byron.
"Till taught by pain,Men really know not what good water's worth."Byron.
The reader will remember Tom Rainsfield's journey to town had been delayed for some time beyond when he had originally intended to start owing to the precarious state of Eleanor's health; consequently, when he took his departure, it was necessary for him to use speed in his travelling.
The summer had by that time considerably advanced, and the country had suffered much from the continued drought that had prevailed for months. Rain was anxiously andhopingly looked for, and a pluvial visitation would have been hailed by the entire population with satisfaction. Tom, as he journeyed, saw this desideratum more plainly than before leaving home; for, as he mounted on to the extensive plains contiguous to the source of the Gibson river, the parched bare soil became perfectly uncomfortable to travel on.
These plains were of fine black alluvial soil, so thinly timbered as to have hardly a tree visible within range of the eye. They were covered with grass, which, when the earth contained any moisture, flourished luxuriantly, and would at times stand waving like an agrarian picture of cereal plenty, so abundant as to impede the progress of the equestrian traveller. But now a "change had come o'er the spirit of the dream," and the herbous mass lay scorched and dry on the arid ground, offering no nutriment to the browsing kine, and only requiring a single spark to generate a grand combustion.
Much has been said and written of theburning prairies of America, and of the bush-fires of Australia; and we may remark, it is in such places as these plains where they originate. Though not so extensive and destructive in their course of devastation as those fearful conflagrations in the western hemisphere, the bush-fires are still frequently of sufficient magnitude to be perfectly irresistible; and occurring as they usually do in the heart of a settled country, they are rendered more dangerous to human life and property. How they originate often remains a mystery. Of course carelessness frequently gives rise to them; though at the same time they have been known to occur in parts where neither whites nor blacks ever tread; and too often, when the destroying element rages over and sweeps away a homestead or a farm, the work is attributed to the incendiarism of some inoffensive blacks, who are made to suffer at the hands of the whites.
Tom Rainsfield journeyed on his course over these plains that looked like a vastneglected hay-field; except in parts where water had lodged and formed temporary ponds or "water-holes." There it presented an area of black mud, baked hard by the power of the sun, and had absorbed so much of its heat as to render it even painful for a horse to stand upon. Tom rode under vertical rays, keeping as much as possible on the withered grass (as being more comfortable than the sun-absorbing and reflecting road), without the companionship of a fellow traveller to relieve the monotony and solitude of the way; and not daring to indulge in the consolation of a pipe, lest a stray spark should ignite the inflammable material at his feet. Miles and miles of this weary and trying travelling were passed, and Tom was not sorry when the track entered a country less open, and he once more rode through bush land.
Here, too, the ground, though partially sheltered from the sun's rays, was equally devoid of feed and moisture. Not a blade ofgrass was to be seen, nor a drop of water in the creeks and water-holes. For himself, notwithstanding that his thirst was insatiable, Tom cared little; he could manage to do without a drink until he reached the end of his day's stage; but it was for the faithful animal that carried him that he anxiously scrutinized every spot likely to contain the smallest reservoir of the much coveted liquid. But his researches were all unavailing; as yet no water could he find; until at one point on the road, when he had almost given up the search as hopeless, he spied a large swamp filled with reeds, in which a herd of cattle lay almost concealed, apparently cooling themselves in the water. Here then he had no doubt he should find what he and his horse had so much desired; and hastening on to the black adamantine margin of what had formerly been a large lagoon, he witnessed a sight that struck him with dismay. Not one drop of water was visible in the extensive basin, and the cattle which he had imaginedwere luxuriating in a natural refrigerator, were dead and immovable.
Such scenes are common under similar circumstances; and at times, while the country is suffering from the effects of a drought, to see cattle "bogged" in a water-hole is only thought of as a necessary consequence fully expected, and therefore hardly to be deplored. Still when witnessed by one who may be seeking that which is essential to life, to allay a thirst which may be consuming, it is enough to make the heart of such sink within him; and, though Tom was hardly in so reduced a predicament, yet he could not gaze on the unfortunate animals without some unpleasant admixture of perturbation and concern.
In the swamp as many as fifty cattle had sought shelter from the heat and moisture for their thirsty tongues. But having waded through the mud, into which they had sank to their middles, they had possibly satisfied themselves for the moment with a concoctionof glutinous soil and vapid lukewarm water; but, from their exhausted strength, had not been able to extricate themselves from their miry bondage, and had consequently died in their captivity. The mud at the time of Tom's visit had perfectly hardened, and he traversed the whole bed of the swamp, in the vain hope of finding some friendly hole in which a few welcome drops might be found for his worn-out steed. But his search was fruitless, and he was at last reluctantly compelled to relinquish it, from the attacks of myriads of flies, who were disturbed at their bovine repast. He at length continued his journey with a worn-out horse and a fagged and jaded spirit, and was not a little grateful, as evening gathered its shades around, to espy the glimmer of a light from the station which was his night's destination.
Tom's further progress was equally tedious and trying. The whole country seemed parched up, and it was with the greatest difficulty he could push on at all; and as thefatigue to himself and his horse necessitated him to make his day's stages much shorter than he desired, it was the sixth day from his leaving Strawberry Hill that he entered the village of Waverley on the Brisbane river.
When we call this a village it is only out of courtesy that we are guilty of such a misnomer. For though, by the government plan of the township, it looks a well-arranged and thriving place, we must state, notwithstanding that building allotments had from time to time been put up at auction by the government, and we may add found purchasers, and that the existence of a public-house, rejoicing in the high-sounding title of the Royal Hotel, lent an imposing air to the place,—the gracefully tinted Queen Street, Albert Street, Prince of Wales Street, etc. etc., of the elaborate survey office map, only existed in the mind of the surveyor, and the imagination of the land-jobber. The said thriving thoroughfares remained in a state of primeval grandeur; having their boundaries marked,for the convenience of inquisitive seekers after information, by small pegs driven into the ground, and whose sole object seemed to be to lie concealed and bewilder those who might desire to find them.
By the foresaid plan this town or village (or, as the Americans would say, this city) of Waverley was laid out with considerable taste. The streets were all broad and at right angles; with a market reserve; grants for church sites to various denominations of Christians; and a broad quay facing the river, either for commercial purposes or for a promenade for the inhabitants. But in reality the whole of the architecture of the place was comprised in the sole habitation, the Royal Hotel; which was built near the bank of the river, with a rough fence enclosing three sides of a piece of ground that ran down to the water's edge. This constituted the paddock for the horses of weary travellers; and, judging from the dilapidated and generally insecure state of the fence, argued the rare occurrence of a quadrupedaloccupancy. However, the sight of these little imperfections gave Tom no concern, as he was confident his animal would not attempt, in the state of fatigue to which he was reduced, to go roaming; and what gladdened his heart more than anything was the sight of what he had long been unacquainted with, fresh water. It was therefore with a considerable amount of mental relief that he rode up to the unpretending hostlery. He alighted at a door before which stood a post suspending a nondescript lamp of antideluvian construction, and bearing from its appearance questionable evidence of its ever having been submitted to the ordeal of beaconing the path of the weary traveller. On the same post was affixed a board on which the sign of the house was very plainly executed in Roman character; informing, and we think very necessarily so, the occasional visitor there was to be had accommodation for man and beast.
The road leading to the Royal Hotel was not the one usually taken by travellers fromthe interior to Brisbane. But Tom had chosen it to avoid the more frequented track; knowing that in the present state of the country travelling on the latter would be much more difficult and troublesome. Therefore he had come by this secluded spot; intending to cross the river, and travel down by the northern bank to Brisbane, while the usual route was through the thriving and populous town of Ipswich, and down the southern side of the Brisbane river.
Tom Rainsfield entered the inn; and having his horse taken round by the landlord to a bark shed designated a stable, where he preferred tending the animal himself, rather than leaving him to the tender mercies of a stranger, he gave him a drink of water and a feed of corn; and then placing some bush hay at his disposal, left him to practise his mastication, and make the most of his time. Having thus arranged for the comforts of his steed Tom next thought of himself; so strollinginto the house, while something was preparing to satisfy the cravings of his inward man, he walked into "the bar," to indulge in a pipe with something cheering, and amuse himself by a little conversation with the landlord. He entered the precincts of thatquarterredevoted to the worship of the rosy god, and where the ministering spirit presided, stationed behind a primitive sort of counter or bench, and at whose back stood two kegs with taps and sundry bottles arranged on a shelf. These (whatever their contents) appeared to be the stock-in-trade of the establishment; excepting a large cask which stood in a corner, and which by its appearance indicated spirituous contents, from whose bulk probably the smaller kegs were from time to time replenished. Into this sanctum then walked our friend Tom Rainsfield, and after calling for a drink, and desiring the landlord in bush fashion to join him, he lit his pipe; and taking his seat on the counter entered into the following dialogue.
"I shouldn't think you did much business here?"
"Oh, pretty fair, sir."
"Why, there doesn't appear to be many who frequent this room. I should have thought it would have hardly been worth your while to have kept a house in this place."
"Nor more it would if I lived by gents a-stopping at my house; for I don't get one of 'em a month. But you see them as pays me is the sawyers; there are lots of 'em about these parts, cutting timber on the hills and in the scrubs; and when they get their logs down into the river they mostly stop here a while drinking before they raft the timber over the flats on their way down to the mills. Then when they come back they generally stop a while on the spree before they go to work. So, you see, I makes a pretty good thing out of 'em; besides you see I keeps rations here as well as grog, and sell them to the fellers when they run short and ain't got no money."
"But don't you often lose your money? I suppose they have none when they go to town with their rafts, and very little when they come back; that is even if they ever do come back; then I suppose you lose your score."
"Oh, I manage to get it; precious few ever 'bilk' me, for I know my marks pretty well, and them as I fancy won't come back I get to pay me in timber; and I brand the logs with my own brand, and give some of the fellers I can trust so much a hundred feet to raft them down for me. But mostly the chaps come back before they have spree'd away all their money. So I gets my share, as they pay me then what they owe me, and have another go in until they 'knock down their pile.'"
"And how much do their 'piles' consist of?"
"Well, I couldn't say anything regular. I have had as much as a hundred pounds 'knocked down' by one man at a time." And as the man said this he smiled andheaved a sigh that seemed to say those were prosperous times for him. True enough it was that he had had as large a sum of money paid to him by one man; but as to the amount being actually spent, or an equivalent even in liquor supplied, is extremely doubtful; but to follow them in their conversation, Tom remarked:
"And then they return to their work, I suppose, quite penniless?"
"Oh, yes, it is very few of them ever have any money when they get back to the scrubs; they have no use for it there, so they spend it like men."
"Like fools you mean."
"No I don't. What is the use of the poor man saving his money? he can't do anything with it; he can't buy any land to settle on; and he doesn't care to save up his money to be robbed of it or lose it; he works hard enough to get it, and so likes to spend it himself."
"That is certainly one idea why workingmen should spend their hard-got earnings. I should have imagined that men who had laboured hard, and were living in the bush and scrubs in all sorts of discomfort, would have had some desire to better their condition, and would have accumulated means accordingly."
"Not a bit of it, sir! they couldn't do anything with their money when they got it."
"Could they not buy a piece of land and commence farming? Here, for instance, the land seems excellently adapted for agricultural purposes."
"They can't get none, sir. The government folks won't sell any to the poor man, leastwise the poor man can't buy none, and if he wants any he is forced to buy it off the 'jobbers,' who generally screw him so much that it doesn't pay. So the fellers prefer keeping to the scrubs cutting timber; 'cos then they are not bound to work for sharpers, and can just please themselves."
It was evident the landlord of the RoyalHotel did not classify himself in the category of those astute blades whom he designated by so cutting an epithet; though Tom's opinion on that head somewhat differed from "mine host's." He considered him a swindler of no ordinary magnitude, though merely a type of his class. He was one of those locusts who fattened on the hard working and reckless classes of colonial labourers; who when they are plundering their victims, even under the guise of friendship, dissuade them from frugality; expatiating on the numerous sources of fraud (excepting of course their own) to which "the poor men" would be exposed; and by their vile persuasions and chicanery too often succeeding in eliminating from the minds of those with whom they come in contact all notions of providence; and confirming them in their reckless and dissipated lives. These bush publicans are the cause of immense misery and depravity, and cannot be too harshly stigmatized for the enormity of their infamies.
Tom being informed that the edibles prepared for him were awaiting his operations discontinued his dialogue, and adjourned to his epicurean repast; at which satisfactory occupation we may leave him uninterrupted. As his next day's stage would only be some five and twenty miles he determined to delay his departure until the afternoon so as to give his weary horse some additional rest; and it was therefore past noon on the following day when he mounted his nag and left the village of Waverley.
In leaving the inn he traversed the bank of the river for some few hundred yards on his way to the flats where he was to cross when he overtook a man that apparently had preceded him from the inn, and they both went on together. The flats at this time were almost dry; for the water in the river had long ceased to run, and at the particular spot to which we allude, which was in ordinary times used as a ford, it could have been crossed dry-shod, while above and below it the riverremained simply currentless pools. As Tom rode down to the bed of the river he was struck with the immense number of logs that laid scattered about, some on the banks, some in the river above, and some below, where a small boat was moored, and a party of sawyers and raftmen camped. To this party Tom's companion evidently belonged, and had apparently been despatched to the public-house by his mates, as he was returning with two suspicious-looking protuberances on each side of his bosom. These, to outward appearance, very much resembled the outlines of bottles that had been thrust into the ample folds of his blue shirt for convenience and security of carriage. While trudging on the road alongside of Tom Rainsfield the fellow gave evidence of a loquacious turn of mind by commencing a conversation and inquiring if Tom was travelling to Brisbane. Upon being informed by our friend that that was his destination, and that he had come by way of Waverley to avoid the main road on accountof its desolate, dry, and feedless state, he remarked with a whimsical smile: "I suppose you think that 'ere Waverley a fine town?"
"It seems a very good site for a township," replied Tom. "There is good land in the vicinity, and abundance of water. I daresay in the course of a few years it will be a flourishing place."
"Not a bit of it, sir," said the man; "it never will be nothing. That 'ere house of Tom Brown's, 'The Royal,' as he calls it, will be the only house in it for many a day, unless there be another public. Lor' bless you, sir, that place of his even wouldn't be nothing if it wasn't for us sawyers; we keeps old Brown alive, and he knows it."
"Well, my good friend," asked Tom, "what is to prevent others settling in the town besides Tom Brown?"
"Why, what would be the good of it?" asked the other; "there would be nothing for them to live upon. All the trade that's done is with us sawyers, and there isn't more thanOld Brown can do himself. Besides, you see, most of the land that has been sold in the village has been bought by the swells, who keep it to make money of it when some one should want to buy."
"I have no doubt," said Tom, "the land in the vicinity will eventually be sold for farming, and then the growth of the village arising from the trade that will ensue will be rapid."
"Ah! there it is, sir. You see the squatters have got all the land now for their sheep to feed on, and a poor man as has got a pound or two, and wants a few acres, can't get 'em no how."
"But the government is continually putting up land for sale," said Tom; "and if any man desired to avail himself of the opportunity surely he could attend the sales and effect a purchase."
"No, sir, they couldn't," said the man; "for, you see, suppose I'm working here in the bush and want to buy a bit of ground, how am I to know when there is any for sale? They willperhaps mark out a few farms near Brisbane, or Ipswich, and put 'em for sale, and they are sold off, or leastwise the best of 'em, before I or any of my mates know anything about it; or if so be as how I should get to hear of it and go to the sale, there's so many people wanting 'em, perhaps gents who maybe live in town, and want paddocks for their horses, that they will give better prices than I can give; so, you see, I don't get half a chance. If I want a bit of land to farm I think I ought to be able to get it anywhere I like just as easy as the squatter can get his country. Axing your pardon, sir, I suppose you're a squatter?"
"That's true, my good man," replied Tom; "but I think myself that the restrictions on the land are vastly injurious to the country, though I doubt, even if every facility was given to the working man to procure land if he would avail himself of the opportunity; and, instead of being of benefit to him in the way intended, I question if the land wouldnot fall into the hands of 'jobbers.' Such a state of things is equally, if not more, to be deprecated than the present system of permitting it to remain in the possession of the squatters; for now it is made available for pasturage; whereas then it would be allowed to lie unproductive until such a time as the speculator could see an opportunity of a profitable realization."
"There would be plenty of us would buy lands and settle on them," said the man, "if we only had the chance. Now if you like, sir, I'll just tell you a case."
Tom, though he knew all the man said was perfectly true, offered no objection to the narrative, being desirous of eliciting from him his notions on the subject, which was a much vexed one in the whole colony, and purposely encouraged him to launch as deeply into it as he thought fit.
"It is about my brother, sir," said the man, "so I know it is quite true, and you may believe it. We both came to this countrytogether about seven years ago, and took to cutting timber and rafting because it paid well those times; and we made plenty of money, though we spent it as fast as we got it. But somehow my brother didn't join much with the other fellows, for he always was a steady chap, but took to saving his money, and 'you may believe me,' it wasn't long before he had got 'a pile,' of more than two hundred pounds. Now, sir, you see, when Bill (that was his name) had saved all that money nothing would do him but he must have a bit of ground and commence farming. There was a talk then of some land being marked out somewhere near this 'ere town of Waverley; so Bill thought he would like to have a few acres hereabouts better than anywhere else. He asked some one who knew all about that sort of thing how he should go about it to buy some, and the chap told him that he ought to go to Brisbane and ask of the surveyors. So off he went to what they call the survey office, and told thebig-wig there that he wanted to buy some land. Now this card showed him a lot of plans of where, he said, they had land for sale; and Bill looks at 'em and took directions, and went into the bush to have a look at 'em. But he found 'em to be no good; they was only lots that had been left at the government sales, when all the best pieces had been sold, and the ironbark ranges and quartzy or barren gravelly country left; so he wouldn't buy any of 'em, and told the chap in the office that he wanted some at Waverley; but he told him he couldn't have none there as it wasn't surveyed.
"Now the party Bill stopped with put him up to a wrinkle how he would get the land he wanted to be surveyed 'cos he knew how to manage it. He got up a requisition, or made an application, to have some lands on the Brisbane river at Waverley surveyed and put up for sale, and sent it to the government, as he said that was the sure way to get it. But it was no go; the survey chaps toldhim that all the land thereabouts was leased to squatters, and they couldn't touch it; but, says they, if you want a nice piece of country there is some out here on the river, about five miles away, that we are going to measure off into farms directly, and they will just suit you; so, says they to my brother, just you go out and have a look at them. Well, Bill went to look at 'em, and, sure enough, they was first-rate land, so he said to himself I'll have a farm there, and that's settled. But he was all wrong; for he didn't get a farm there an' nowhere else as I shall tell you.
"When he came back, after having see'd the land, he went to the office and told the people that that place would just suit him, and he would take a farm and buy it right off. But they laughed at him, and told him that he couldn't buy it before it was surveyed, but that in a short time, a week or so at most, they would have it all right and ready for sale; so Bill thought he might make the best of it and wait. A couple ofweeks passed and he went to them, but it was not done; so he waited another week or two, and went back again, when they told him that they had had no time to see to it, but were going to do so very shortly. So he waited another month, and then enquired, when they had the cheek to tell him that they were obliged to put it off for they could not attend to it at all, having so much work to do at other places; but that if he would come back to town in about three months it would be all ready for sale.
"Now Bill was bent upon having one of them farms, so, instead of letting the surveyor chaps, and the farms too, go to—where-ever they liked for their humbugging, he came back to the bush to work for the three months, and then went to town again to look after the land. But when he went to the office even then the fellers hadn't surveyed it; and instead of telling him like men that they were only humbugging him, and never intended to do it at all, they commencedtheir little games again, and told him that the surveyors were then at work on a particular job, but that as soon as they were done there they would go to the land he was waiting for. Well, sir, it's no good my telling you all the ins and outs of it; but the long and the short of it is they kept Bill in a string for six months, and then they didn't do the work, and I don't know if it is done now; so, you see, that's how us poor men can't get any land."
"I believe what you complain of is perfectly true," said Tom. "The system is much to be deplored, but I hope it will shortly be improved. Unless a man is on the spot, and can wait for an opportunity, such as when a sale occurs, there is certainly very little chance for him; and men that are employed in the bush very rarely if ever have that chance."
"Just so, sir," said the man.
"And what did your brother do with his money after having so much of it and his time wasted in looking after this land?"
"Ah, sir! there is what makes me cursethe land, and the surveyors, and all the lot, for it killed Bill, and there never was a better feller breathing. I'll tell you how it was, sir. I told you Bill was a steady chap; he never used to drink, anyhow not to spree, you know; but, you'll guess, no man could stop at a public-house for six months doing nothing without getting on the spree. Bill used to walk up and down on the verandah at the public where he stopped, and smoke his pipe, while he thought how them fellers at the survey office were a-treating of him, and he got miserable like in his spirits. So when fellows got to know him, and used to come into the house, they'd ask him to take a nobbler with them; and somehow, you see, though he didn't do nothing of the sort at first, he was soon glad to get some one to join him in a drink, and being at it all day, you know, he used to get very drunk at times; so he went on until at last he was always drunk. Now Bill all this time had been keeping his money by him, so that he would be ready, when hewanted it, to buy his farm. So, what with always having plenty of money 'to shout' for other fellers (for you know, sir, he was a stunning feller to shout when he got a little bit screwed), and the lots of fellers as always stuck to him when they knew he got 'tin,' he very soon got 'cleared out;' and one day, after a tremendous spree, when he had been drunk for more than a week, he got 'the horrors,' and started to come home to the scrub. I never saw him after that, sir; for he got drowned in one of the creeks on the road, and was found by some shingle splitters soon afterwards without a shilling in his pocket; so that's what he got, poor fellow, for trying to turn farmer. Now you see, sir, we don't see the good of doing like that; so we never trouble ourselves about saving any money, and we are a deal better off, and a happier, than them as do."
Tom did not attempt to refute the sophistry of this argument as he was aware that it would be useless. He knew that the case ofthis man's brother was by no means a solitary one; for not only had the suicidal policy of the colonial government with regard to the disposal of the waste lands been instrumental in the destruction of numerous victims similar to this unsophisticated sawyer; but it was absolutely driving that entire class of men into reckless extravagance and dissipation. Whereas a liberal land policy would not only have engendered a spirit of providence, but have offered an inducement, and have proved a stimulus, to the country's settlement by a thriving rural population.
But the ministerial Solons of the country could not be induced to view the subject in that light; hence this deplorable state of morality and improvidence, which unfortunately pervades the great bulk of the country population. In urban localities the evil is not so severely felt, as a steady and industrious mechanic, with his accumulated savings, is enabled to purchase a town allotment (which allotments are just frequently enoughthrust into the market by the government as to keep the demand in excess of the supply), and to build on it a house, which he erects by degrees, as his means admit. Thereby, in course of a short time, he gathers round him in the land of his adoption a comfortable little freehold property. Thus it is, nearly all the town workmen who are possessed of any savings convert them into something substantial; but for the bushmen no such opportunity exists; and hence it follows, that the towns-people are generally industrious, steady, and frugal, while those of the bush are too frequently the reverse.
"That certainly was a melancholy end for your brother," said Tom to his companion, resuming the conversation that had lapsed for a few minutes.
"Yes, sir, it was; and if Bill, poor fellow, had just been content to stick to the scrub like us he would most likely have been 'still to the fore.' You see, sir, we live a jolly life; are quite contented, and spend our moneywhile we've got it. Now those fellows over there," continued the man as he pointed to the sawyer's camp, in sight of which they had just arrived, "not one of 'em would give up his life to go and work in town if you paid him ever so high wages."
"I've no doubt their mode of life is fascinating; but still I should think the heavy drinking in which they indulge sometimes impairs their health and constitution."
"Not a bit, sir! We never feel anything the worse for a spree, nor in anyways sick; 'cos you see we work hard, and most always live in the bush; so we are always healthy."
"I've no doubt that will preserve you in a great measure; but still you must be perfectly aware that, even if you never experience any deleterious effects, you continually leave yourself destitute; and if anything in the way of sickness should happen to you, so as to incapacitate you for work, you would not only starve, but die from neglect and want of proper treatment.
"Don't you believe it, sir! There would be no fear of my wanting anything. Do you think if one of my mates was sick now that I wouldn't share with him what money I'd got, or that I wouldn't look after him as if he was my brother? In course I would, and if I got sick my mates would do the same for me."
By this time Tom and his companion had half crossed the bed of the river; and noticing the plans the men had adopted to get their timber over the flats, Tom commenced a fresh interrogation to elicit from his travelling concomitant some information on the usual mode of procedure. As the subject may have some degree of interest to a few of our readers we will give in our own words the substance of the dialogue, craving permission to premise it by a remark or two on the general life and movements of sawyers.
They are a class of men who exist during the greater portion of the year in the bushand scrubs bordering on the rivers and creeks, where they unceasingly and uninterruptedly practise their vocations. They generally work in gangs, either on equal shares or on wages to one of their number, who may be more thoughtful than the rest; and one who, notwithstanding a fair share of dissipation, may have accumulated, possibly through the influence of a thrifty wife, some considerable means. The classes of timber most in demand, and therefore most sought for by these men, are cedar and pine; which are procured separately, in certain localities, in great abundance. This local segregation of the woods is a characteristic of the Australian bush, and more than anything else tends to create that monotony which is everywhere perceptible. It causes the eye of the traveller to weary as he looks continually on the leafless bare-looking trunks of the blue gum (which without intermission meets his gaze for miles and miles on the lonely road) or the sombre-looking ironbark that with equal pertinacitymonopolizes the ranges. Rarely, if ever, will an admixture of timbers be found to any extent; and, consequently, those sawyers who cut pine leave the cedar scrubs to be visited by the others; andvice versa.
The timber is usually cut in the dry season; and the trees after being cleared of their limbs and foliate appendages, and denuded of their bark, are drawn by the means of a bullock team to the nearest creek or river, where they are deposited until such time as the rains sufficiently swell the streams to float them from their resting-places. With an iron brand in the shape of a punch, and a hammer, each cutter on the end of every log indelibly marks his own property; and as the logs are removed from their beds by the rising current, a staple is driven into each. Through this a chain is passed, when the whole are collected into one raft, and securely moored to wait, in their transit down the stream, the pleasure of the proprietor. The time usually chosen to raft the timber is when the rivers are moderatelyhigh after rains; or, in the parlance of the upper part of the country, when there is "a flood," and in the lower, when there is "a fresh" in the river. They are then started in their downward course either by the directing aid of a small boat (if the ascent of the stream is practicable for it) or under the guidance of some of the party; who make a firm footing for themselves on their floating platform, by sheets of bark and foliage. They then trust themselves to the current, while they guide the course of the raft with poles until they come to flats. When the rivers are to any extent swollen, or (as it is said in the country) "running," the rafts usually pass over without difficulty; but if the water is low, and the flats barely covered, the passage is necessarily not so easily effected, and frequently impossible. Such then was the case at the Waverley flats at the time of which we write. And it was with the water almost at the lowest ebb that the party Tom saw had been endeavouring to float over theirraft; the process for which they had adopted we now propose to explain.
It is necessary at some point to have a boat to assist the raftmen in their guidance of the unwieldy mass, and one is usually kept by them for that purpose at the highest point to which it can be conveniently brought. After escaping all impediments the boat takes the raft in tow; and, as it progresses on the stream and comes within the action of tides, on the occasion of each flowing, the party have to draw their raft into the bank, and camp until the return of the ebb. In their journey to the mills rarely more than three or four of the party, including the proprietor if not a joint stock affair, accompany the timber; while the remainder pursue their occupation of cutting.
The party that was camped at the Waverley flats consisted of five individuals in all. They had been working in shares for some months collecting the raft they then had with them, and were all accompanying it to the mills tosell it and have the proceeds equally distributed. But the season having been an unusually dry one they had here met with an effectual check, and had no alternative but to wait for rain.
When they first reached the flats the water was just running over them, but not sufficiently deep to admit of the passage of their property; so the fellows had recourse to the expedient of forming "a race" to effect their purpose, and this they had accomplished in the following way: A few of the logs were drawn up and arranged longitudinally from either bank of the river in an oblique direction to a focus in the centre of the flat; from this point the logs were arranged parallel to one another right across the bank to the deep water below. They were then all firmly staked into the soil, and the interstices between and below them were packed so as to perfect a dam or barrier to the water. The result of this plan as is evident was that the water flowing over the flat was confined to the narrow channelbetween the parallel logs, and thereby attained a higher elevation and a swifter current. To the mouth of this impromptu canal, then, the sawyers brought the logs one by one, and they were made, with very little guiding, to shoot through the passage with speed and precision. After getting nearly a hundred of the logs in this manner over the impediment, the water continuing to fall, eventually left them with not even sufficient to make their sluice available; so, with fully half their raft fixed above the flat, the men were compelled to be idle until they had sufficient water to float the remainder over.
Tom had expressed surprise to his companion that he and his mates did not proceed with the timber that had passed the flat, and leave some of their companions behind to watch for the flood in the river, and secure the others as they should descend. He pointed out that by that means they would, in all probability, have got their first raft down to the mills, and had time to return before the rainscame on. But this, his companion told him, the sawyers were afraid to risk, because, he said, if the river rose rapidly, which they fully expected, they would want all their number on the spot, otherwise they might lose half the timber. Besides, in the absence of their boat, it would be an impossibility to secure any of the logs if they should be washed over. "And then," he continued, "we have been expecting the rain to commence every day for weeks past." So it was deemed advisable by the whole party to await the rising of the river; and, even watchful as they were, they fully expected that if the flood came upon them at all suddenly, they would lose a considerable number of the logs.
After crossing the river (or rather the bed of it), and leaving the sawyers' party, Tom Rainsfield leisurely pursued his journey; and, after riding for about twenty miles or so, he could perceive, by the nature of the country and the occasional appearance of "improvements," that he was approaching the town ofBrisbane. Towards dark the road led him through lines of fences, and past a few cottages and cultivated fields, and thence by detached buildings, until he finally entered the town and put up at his hotel not at all dissatisfied at the completion of his journey. The country, even to town, had equally suffered by the drought. Hardly a vestige of herbage was to be seen on the whole surface of the ground, and the mortality amongst the beasts was fearful, and painfully perceptible from the fulsome malaria in the atmosphere. Tom's horse was reduced to a perfect shadow, and was so weak that when he reached the inn he could hardly drag one foot after another, and certainly could not have existed another day with a continuation of his privations. Hence Tom was additionally delighted when he drew rein at the Crown Hotel, and permitted his weary and faithful animal to be led away to the stables, while he proceeded to refresh himself in a manner most pleasant after his own fatigues.
"Ye glittering towns, with wealth and splendour crown'd,Ye fields, where summer spreads profusion round,Ye lakes, whose vessels catch the busy gale,Ye bending swains, that dress the flow'ry vale."Goldsmith.
"Ye glittering towns, with wealth and splendour crown'd,Ye fields, where summer spreads profusion round,Ye lakes, whose vessels catch the busy gale,Ye bending swains, that dress the flow'ry vale."Goldsmith.
When Tom Rainsfield arrived in Brisbane he found it entirely absorbed in politics, and the public attention so engaged in the all-important question of separation that even the deplorable state in which the country then was in was for the time forgotten. Business for the nonce was entirely relinquished, and the good citizens were in a perfect ferment of exultation, consequent on the receipt of joyous news. As a few remarksrespecting the topography of the place, and the nature of the people's agitation, may not be here amiss we will endeavour to describe and trace their progress through their various phases to the date of our narrative.
The town of Brisbane is pleasantly situated on a picturesque and meandering river of the same name, about twenty miles from the point where it disembogues into Moreton Bay. Passing its first establishment it was not until the year 1840 that it was resorted to for the purposes of trade. In that year drays first crossed "the range" by Cunningham's Gap; and the squatters, who were then pushing on in the settlement of the interior, discovered that this place could be made a convenient port for the shipment of their produce to Sydney. The place, however, being only a convict settlement free settlers were prohibited from approaching it; and it was only by a special application to the government that on the following year the land on the south bank of the river was surveyed andlaid out for a township, and a residence for the purposes of trade permitted. The following year the convicts were wholly withdrawn from the district, and the land that had been blighted by their occupancy was thrown open to the public. From this period then, viz., 1842, is to be dated the settlement of Moreton Bay, when the whole free population of the district might have been numbered by dozens, and when the first regular communication with Sydney was established.
The town of Brisbane at that time, and even for years afterwards, consisted only of a few wooden huts; and, with the exception of the government buildings which had been erected during the penal era for the housing and confinement of the convicts stationed there, not a decent or substantial edifice existed. A few acres of ground had been cleared by the prisoners for cultivation immediately round the settlement, and at two places situated on the river below the town, respectively two and seven miles distant; butotherwise the wilderness remained in its primeval condition.
The town on the northern bank of the river, which was much better situated (both in a commercial and residentiary point of view) than that on the southern, rapidly attracted the attention of speculators and settlers. It was situated in a spacious pocket, caused by a bend in the river, and flanked by gently undulating ridges. It was judiciously laid out; with wide rectangular streets, commodious reserves for public purposes, and was possessed of almost unbounded water frontage, which could afford accommodation for a large commercial intercourse. One of the boons left to the public upon the withdrawal of the convicts and military, besides the court-house, hospital, and barracks, was a botanical garden. It had been constructed for the especial pleasure and accommodation of the officers and other officials of the settlement, and became after their departure a very acceptable legacy to the people.
The young settlement prospered amazingly as it became more peopled by the streams of immigration from the southern parts of the colony. The squatters who had advanced with their flocks and herds from the occupied districts in the southern interior speedily formed stations in actual contiguity to the township; which was daily increasing its trade, as its intercourse with the interior became more settled and developed. The architectural appearance of the town for years showed no improvement; and the comfort of the inhabitants was little thought of in its commercial prosperity. Large sums were annually gathered into the government coffers from the sale of the lands in the township, but nothing was ever done by the ruling powers to improve its condition; and it was allowed to remain in that state in which it had left the hands of the surveyors. The lines of the streets were certainly marked, but no levels were fixed; and the idea of drainage never entered the minds of thepeople's rulers. In fact, though the government, as we have said, continued from year to year to derive large revenues from the sale of these town lands, they never deemed it necessary to expend a fraction in even the formation of the streets; and hence, after twelve years from its occupation by a free population, it was, like all other bush towns in the country, in a wretched and deplorable condition. After rains the so-called streets became perfectly impassable, even to foot passengers; and the principal thoroughfare was frequently the course of a swollen torrent, that had in successive years worn for itself a bed, interspersed with deep holes, which rendered it absolutely dangerous to venture amongst its snares after dark. The extorting policy of the government had always been to sacrifice the interests of the distant settlers for a centralized aggrandizement; or, in other words, the revenues derived from this or any other country district were applied, not solely to the defraying of the expense oflegislative machinery, but to the improvement and embellishment of Sydney, and other works that had no local importance to the out-lying districts. This was one of the main grievances that induced the settlers in later years to petition for separation from the parent colony. But we are anticipating.
The advance of the district after its settlement continued with rapid strides; and the labour requirements of the settlers kept continually in advance of the supply. So that much inconvenience was felt by the employers at the paucity of industrial bone and muscle procurable in the district. For years the squatters were compelled to draw their supply of labour from the Sydney market, an exceedingly expensive and by no means satisfactory expedient, until the year 1848, when the influx of direct immigration commenced. From this date ships at repeated intervals have discharged their living freight on the shores of Moreton Bay, where they have speedily met engagements at high ratesof wages, and become absorbed in the increasing population.
The first labourers introduced into the district were by private intervention, and though extraneous to our tale, we may be pardoned for mentioning it here. The prime mover of this scheme was the Rev. Dr. Lang, who was at the time a member of the Colonial legislature, and than whom no greater benefactor to the colonies, and no sterner advocate for the rights and privileges of the colonists existed or exists. He was foremost in all works of reform and public utility. He seemed to be gifted with a prescience of the colonist's requirements, and was indefatigable in his exertions for their advancement and amelioration. He is the antipodean agitator, and the acknowledged benefactor of his fellow colonists in their land of adoption. Many of the privileges of the Australian constitution owe their existence to Dr. Lang's indomitable perseverance and skill, and many of the most sapient enactments bear the impress of hismental perspicuity. He is the father of Australia, and his name will long remain to the people "as familiar as household words."
Perceiving the great want of labour in the new settlement he was the first who took any active part in the procuration of the desideratum. In pursuit of this object in the year 1846 or 1847 he introduced a bill into the legislature of New South Wales, having for its object the introduction of an industrial class of immigrants into Moreton Bay. His proposed plan was to induce the government to offer a small grant of land to every immigrant arriving in the colony at his own expense, equivalent to the amount of money actually paid for the passage. But the project met with some opposition from the ministry of the day, and not until after considerable perseverance did he receive assurances of their assent. Being suddenly called to England on private affairs Dr. Lang left his pet scheme in the hands of a colleagueto procure for it the formal sanction of the country; and he commenced to act upon the assurance given him in the colonies by organizing a system of emigration during his stay in England. This was in the years 1847 and 1848, when, after continually drawing the attention of the middle classes of Great Britain to the eligibility of Moreton Bay as a place for emigration, and holding out the inducement of remission of the passage-money emigrants would pay in an equivalent grant of land in the colonies, he succeeded in the latter year in despatching three ships freighted with intending settlers. Their arrival in the colony, though of considerable benefit to the community there established, was fraught with many inconveniences and privations to themselves. The Colonial government ignored their title to grants of land; and the newly arrived immigrants found themselves, upon landing in the country, disappointed in their expectations, many of them destitute, and all in a place hardly reclaimed from thewilderness of the bush, where no preparation had been made for their reception. They were, therefore, disgusted with what they considered the fraud that had been practised upon them, and were loud in their declamation of those who had enticed them from their comfortable homes to be subjected to the misery and discomforts they had then to endure. Under these circumstances piteous were the communications made to friends in the "fatherland," and dreadful the detail of their distress in the far distant land of promise.
Their case, however, attracted some little notice from the local authorities, and a piece of land adjoining the town was allotted them, on which to erect dwellings. On this they settled, calling it Fortitude Valley, from the name of one of the vessels that had conveyed them thither; and when they got over their mortification, and gave their minds to industry, they speedily transformed the almost impenetrable bush into a scene of lifeand animation. The first privations of settlement very soon succumbed to comfort and independence, and "the valley" shortly became a populous suburb of the town of Brisbane, and, at the period of our story, closely approximated to, if not equalled it, in population. The settlers themselves, introduced under so unfavourable auspices, were not long in immensely improving their condition, and many of them, in the course of a few years, rose to positions of comfort, eminence, and opulence; and if they ever reverted to the period of their immigration, must have done so with feelings of thankfulness and satisfaction.
From this period the influx of population continued, and the condition in which the district flourished may be gathered from the following tables:—
Brisbane presents now a far different aspect to what it did some few years back. As we have said, it is pleasantly and, both in a sanitary and commercial point of view, admirably situated. From an obscure settlement in the bush it has become a thriving town, with some good streets, substantial stone and brick houses, stores, warehouses, and wharves, and with shops that would not disgrace many a fashionable thoroughfare in the British metropolis. It is possessed of spacious and commodious government buildings, a gaol, mechanics' school of arts, an hospital, severalbanking establishments, and fully a dozen churches and other places of worship. The surrounding country, that was only a few years before a wild waste, has mostly been cleared and put under cultivation; and the banks of the river far above, and considerably below the town, are studded with farms and gentlemen's seats, some elegantly and tastefully constructed with a view both to comfort and the exigencies of the climate. The town is further possessed of two steam saw-mills; one daily, and another bi-weekly newspaper; weekly steam and continual sailing communication with Sydney, and a dawning direct trade with England. Five steamers ply on the river, and a daily coach runs by land to Ipswich, and an export trade is done to the extent of considerably over half a million sterling annually. The climate is salubrious—the heat ranging, in the shade, between the means of 80° in summer, and 50° in winter; and the soil of the neighbourhood has been proved to be productive of a greater variety of plants than anyother country in the world. Coupled with wheat, oats, barley, potatoes, peas, and a variety of other English edibles, its products comprise many of a tropical nature, the practicability of the growth of which has been fully demonstrated. Bananas, pine-apples, pumpkins, melons, figs, grapes, peaches, maize, and sweet potatoes, are common articles of culture; while indigo, arrow-root, sugar-cane, and cotton, flourish as in their native climes.
Of the latter product we would fain say a few wordsen passant, as its production of late has been a question that has been much agitated in Great Britain, and received some attention in the colonies. We believe the experiment of its growth was first tried upon the joint suggestion of an influential settler of New South Wales, Mr. T. S. Mort of Sydney, and the Rev. Dr. Lang. The former gentleman procured a supply of the best sea-island American seed, and also an instrument called "a gin" for cleaning the seed from the cotton, and placed them at the disposal of the settlersof Moreton Bay. The seeds were planted, germinated, and yielded cotton of the first description; but difficulties arose which cultivators were unable to surmount. The first was the impracticable nature of the instrument they were possessed of for cleaning. It was found to be useless, and all similar apparatuses that were subsequently introduced, and constructed on ideas suggested to the minds of local mechanical geniuses, equally failed to perform the requisite work with cleanliness and precision. Though this was in itself almost insurmountable, the greatest drawback to the culture of the cotton was the rainy weather, which usually set in just as the cotton was ripening; destroying the crop, and inflicting serious loss on the cultivator. It was, however, discovered that in the Moreton Bay climate the plant became a perennial; and that, after the first year's growth, the pods ripened considerably earlier and avoided the wet weather; while the staple of the cottonimproved with the age of the plant. Satisfactory as was this discovery, the first failure militated against its general cultivation; for most of the farmers in the district, being dependent for their subsistence on their yearly crops, could not afford to experimentalize, notwithstanding that they were certain of an ultimately remunerative crop. A subsequent attempt to cultivate the cotton was tried with no better success. Though the staple was produced none of the cleaning machines to be had were efficacious; and no means being procurable to extract the seed from the cotton, it was sent to England in its raw state to be separated there. The cotton was cleaned by hand-labour in some of the penitentiaries of the "old country;" and when submitted to judges of the article, was pronounced to be the finest specimen ever introduced into the country. But these repeated failures damped the cotton-growing ardour of the people; and, being able otherwise moreprofitably to employ their labour and capital, they permitted its culture to be abandoned.
That cotton will eventually become a large export from this district we have no hesitation in affirming, and we believe that the time is not far distant when capitalists in England, interested in the cotton trade, will take up the matter and embark in it. It is an undertaking which we are confident, from the reasons we have expressed, would be found remunerative even with the application of free European labour, and be of considerable benefit to the manufacturers and consumers of the staple. It has been frequently argued in the colony where it was grown that the expense of labour would eat up the whole proceeds of the cotton. But this we are disposed to dispute for many cogent reasons. In the first place, notwithstanding the many assertions to the contrary, Europeans can work at all times in the open air, even under the scorching rays of a mid-summer sun; while the value of the cotton produced, by the peculiaradaptation of the soil, has been found to be of a superior character to even the finest American or Egyptian productions; and, from the fact of the necessity of annual planting being avoided, the expense of production after the first year is reduced by more than one half. These facts at once disarm of its force the statement that cotton cultivators in Queensland could not compete with slave-grown produce without the aid of cheap coolie or lascar labour.
The postulation that without Asiatic skill and economy the cotton cultivation is a chimera, has been assumed by a few interested parties in the colonies, and reverberated by them from mouth to mouth among their own party, without a solitary echo from the mass of the people. It has been advanced in ignorance, and persevered in in dogmatical obstinacy, to the entire subversion of reason and the results of experience. The theory has arisen in a desire of personal aggrandizement by its advocates, who have never dreamt of the consequences that would accrue from aninflux of heathenism and depravity, or the detraction from the honour of the colony, and the degradation of our labouring fellow-countrymen and colonists. It is happily only a party cry, and that only of so meagre a nature, that it is almost an inaudible squeak. But though insignificant as it is in the country where it originated, by its propagation and circulation in the press, its virus has been made to travel through the entire arterial system of the commonwealth; which is thus made to believe in the moral gangrene of this distant member of the empire. But to return.
Before we allowed ourselves to be led into the foregoing digression we spoke of the land and water communication to the town of Ipswich; which reminds us of the existence of that important town; and of which we also crave permission, while on our topographical subject, to say a few words.
Ipswich, or as it was originally called, Limestone, from the quantity of that mineral which pervaded the neighbourhood, is situatedon the Bremer river, which falls into the Brisbane. It is distant from the town of Brisbane about twenty-five miles by land, and sixty by water, and is stationed at the highest navigable point on either stream. It was formerly used by the government as a station for the sheep and cattle of the settlement during the penal times; and, upon the withdrawal of the prisoners, it was, like its sister settlement, declared a township, surveyed, and thrown open to the public. The first land in it was sold in Brisbane in the year 1843; but for three years afterwards the town made little progress. With the exception of a brick cottage that had been erected for the overseer in charge of the military and prisoners stationed there while it was a government establishment, and which, after the break up, was converted into a public-house to afford accommodation and allay the thirst of wayfarers to and fro between Brisbane and the interior, few buildings, even of the most makeshift description, were erected. The place hadas then attracted little or no attention; for the traffic passed it on its way without any further stoppage than what a bush public-house is expected to effect among the bullock-drivers and draymen, while the drays came right down to Brisbane without any interruption to their loads.
During the time of its attachment to the penal settlement at Brisbane the communication between the two places had been maintained by the means of boats and punts, in which the supplies of the station were brought up, and live stock for consumption, and lime requisite for the works at the township, returned. No doubt, acting on this knowledge, the idea occurred to an enterprising settler of the district that the traffic could be diverted from the road to the river, and would be advantageous in the saving of time and trouble consequent on the primitive style of land carriage in vogue. He therefore started a small steamer in the year last mentioned, viz., 1846, to ply between the two places;and though not successful in his project, so far as his own pocket was concerned, the soundness of his conjectures was patent in the benefits that resulted. The advancement of Ipswich may be dated from that period, since which its progress has been extraordinarily rapid, and even bids fair to maintain the race with the sister town with some degree of success.
Though Ipswich is admirably situated for the purposes of trade with the interior, it is by no means so eligible a site for a town, nor so well planned out as Brisbane. Its streets are narrow, and have been lined by the surveyors without any regard to levels or the "lay" of the country. It is situated in a hollow, so that the drainage falls into the centre of the town, while the surrounding hills preclude the possibility of approach of any of those breezes which are so deliciously refreshing during sultry summer weather. The buildings, on the whole, are creditable, and even fine for so young a place, though byno means equal to those of Brisbane; and its peculiar characteristics are, bullock-drays, dirty streets, and public-houses. It is, however, a busy, thriving town; and if in the selection of its site a little more judicious forethought had been exercised, and more consideration for comfort, health, and amenity displayed in its surveying, it might have been made, with its beautiful surrounding scenery, as pretty a spot as could have been desired. But in this, as in every other case in the colonies since their foundation, the only thing that has been exhibited is the cupidity of the government, whose only desire has ever been to realise as much as possible from the sales of land, with as little outlay as practicable. Hence the inhabitants are doomed to live in a place that, upon the minutest visitation of rain, becomes a perfect "slough of despond;" and from its concave situation, when under a vertical sun, is at least ten degrees warmer than any other place in the district.
This, then, is the point to which all thetraffic now converges in its passage to Brisbane, and diverges in its transit to the interior—the highway between the two points being the river, while the road is merely used for the lighter traffic of a few equestrians and light vehicles. Such is the alteration, and we may of course add improvement, in the appearance of the country by the influence of civilisation consequent on the settlement of the district; and so rapidly has it taken place that if any of the old official residents, who only knew it in its infancy of freedom, were again to visit it, we have no hesitation in saying they would not credit their senses. We are aware that in all new colonies, where capital, industry, and perseverance are brought to bear upon the barren wastes, the speedy transition to a smiling scene of plenty is the inevitable result. But in most there is an air of freshness about everything, which proclaims it a new place; while in those towns of Moreton Bay the case is very different. They seem almost to have sprung into maturity at once; and,especially in Brisbane, there is a something about it so thoroughly English, that were it not for the luxuriant growth of exotics, the heavy timber on the adjacent hills, and the tropical appearance in the architecture of some of the suburban dwellings which instantly strike the eye, a stranger could hardly bring himself to believe this was the last formed of Britain's colonies; while we can affirm it is already far from the meanest.
Before taking leave of this local subject we beg permission here to introduce a little episode that is characteristic of the relationship that existed between the two towns, or rather the settlement and the station, before the advent that proclaimed the country open to free settlers. Towards the latter end of the penal, or military, administration, the district was visited by a fearful flood that swept over the face of the country and rendered all travelling, either by land or water, perfectly impracticable. The intercourse, therefore, between Brisbane and Limestone was entirelysevered, and for weeks no communication could be attempted. At the station, during this stoppage, the supplies began to run short (it never having been deemed necessary to anticipate such an emergency), and the residents were soon suffering serious privations from the want of their necessary rations. No boats or horses were at the station at the time, so that they were unable to intimate to the authorities below the state in which they were situated. The officials at Limestone waited from day to day in the vain hope of seeing the waters recede, and the means of communication re-established, but they were disappointed. The flood continued at its height, and starvation was almost staring them in the face. In this emergency the officer in charge of the prisoners offered a free pardon to any who would accomplish the voyage to the settlement, and report there the distress the people at Limestone were suffering.
The passage was undertaken by two of the men, who knew that success was freedom,and that failure's concomitant was death. One took the track through the bush and perished, possibly by being washed away while attempting the crossing of some swollen creek, but the other was more successful, and succeeded in reaching the township in safety, where he communicated the intelligence of the destitution at Limestone, and had the gratification of relieving his former companions, and securing his freedom. Supplies were immediately forwarded to the famished station on pack-horses, which, only after surmounting considerable difficulties and dangers, succeeded in reaching their destination. This passage was one of the boldest and most extraordinary feats on colonial record, and, considering the manner in which it was effected, freedom was certainly not too great a reward. It was accomplished by the man tracing the course of the river, travelling by land where such was practicable, and taking to the river and swimming where it was not. When it is remembered that all thelow and flat parts of the country were under water, and that it was computed half the distance of the journey, or nearly thirty miles, was traversed in the swollen stream, with a flying current and eddying pools, and amidst trees and otherdebris, swarming with reptiles and insects brought down from the mountains and clustered on the floating masses, some conception may be formed of what the intrepid courier had gone through. But to return again to our narrative.
The period of which we write is the summer of 1857, when the cry of "separation" resounded through the country. Some time previous to this the colonists had received intimation of the intention of her Majesty's government to erect Moreton Bay into a separate state amongst the group of Australian colonies. But at this period, as we have already stated, fresh despatches had been received, in which the boundaries and a sketch of its constitution were defined, and the inhabitants were deep in the contemplation ofthese topics. We fear that this disquisition on history and politics may be considered an interpolation foreign to the nature of our work, and uninteresting to the majority of our readers; but we must excuse ourselves for an encroachment upon the prerogative of the historian, on the ground that we wish the indulgent public to have a correct idea of the historical, as well as the physical and social, nature of Queensland. We would, therefore, throw ourselves again on the leniency of our readers, while we trace, as succinctly as possible, the origin and growth of the separation movement.
For some years previous to the year 1851 the colonists of Port Philip had agitated the question of separation from the colony of New South Wales, and in that year their efforts were crowned with success, their district being, by imperial decree, erected into a separate colony under the name of Victoria. The instigator and prime mover in this matter had been the Rev. Dr. Lang; and at thecommencement of the same year he organized an agitation for a similar dismemberment of the Moreton Bay or northern districts.
The inhabitants of those districts, groaning under the habitual neglect of a distantly removed and selfish government, were not slow to respond to the call of the agitator. The first meeting to consider the subject, which was held in January 1851, resulted in the despatch of petitions to the throne, praying for an immediate separation from New South Wales, and an establishment as an independent state. They enumerated among the general grievances, the remoteness of the district from the seat of government, the inadequate representation in the legislature, the confirmed neglect and inattention of their rulers to their requirements, the total absorption of their revenues for the improvement of the capital, and the impossibility to procure the outlay of any money on absolutely necessary works; in fact the total subversion of the rights of the inhabitants, and thegeneral inconvenience experienced by a connexion with New South Wales.
Much as the consummation was desiderated by all parties in the district the people were divided into two bodies in the views which they took of the subject; and each party drew up its own petition, and forwarded it to England. One faction, and by far the most numerous and intelligent, demanded a "free" separation, with the untrammelled administration of their own affairs; while the other, principally composed of the squatters in the interior, were contented with petitioning for separation, with a reversion to the old penal system. Their object being to have convicts sent to the new colony, and to procure their labour by the old iniquitous "assigning" system.