From Squire to Squatter: A Tale of the Old Land and the New

by Burt L. Standish

least.

  "I must say I like Craig very much. He is so noble and handsome. What a splendid soldier he would have made! But with all his grandeur of looks--I cannot call it anything else--there is an air of pensiveness and melancholy about him that is never absent. Even when he smiles it is a sad smile. Ah! Rupert, his story is a very strange one; but he is young yet, only twenty-six, and he is now doing well. He lives by himself, with just one shepherd under him, on the very confines of civilisation. I often fear the blacks will bail up his hut some day, and mumkill him, and we should all be sorry. Craig is saving money, and I believe will be a squatter himself one of these days. Etheldene is very fond of him. Sometimes I am downright jealous and nasty about it, because I would like you, Rupert, to have Etheldene for a wife. And she knows all about the black fellows, and can speak their language. Well, you see, Rupert, you could go and preach to and convert them; for they are not half so bad as they are painted. The white men often use them most cruelly, and think no more of shooting them than I should of killing an old man kangaroo.

  "When I began this letter, dearest Elsie and old Roup, I meant to tell you such a lot I find I shall have no chance of doing--all about the grand trees, the wild and beautiful scenery, the birds and beasts and insects, but I should have to write for a week to do it. So pray forgive my rambling letter, and come and see it all for yourself.

  "Come you must, else--let me see now what I shall threaten. Oh, I have it; I won't ever return! But if you do come, then in a few years we'll all go back together, and bring out dad and the dear mummy.

  "I can't see to write any more. No, the lights are just as bright as when I commenced; but when I think of dad and the mum, my eyes _will_ get filled with moisture. So there!

  "God bless you all, _all_, from the mum and dad all the way down to Kate, Branson, and Bounder.

  "Archie Broadbent, C.O.B.

  "P.S.--Do you know what C.O.B. means? It means Chip of the Old Block. Hurrah!"

  CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

  RUMOURS OF WAR.

  As soon as Squire Broadbent read his son's letter he carefully folded itup, and with a smile on his face handed it to Rupert. And by-and-bye,when Captain Vesey returned, and settled into the family circle with therest, and had told them all he could remember about Archie and BurleyNew Farm in Australia, the brother and sister, followed by Bounder,slipped quietly out and told old Kate they were going to the tower.Would she come? That she would. And so for hours they all sat up therebefore the fire talking of Archie, and all he had done and had been, andlaying plans and dreaming dreams, and building castles in the air, justin the same way that young folks always have done in this world, andwill, I daresay, continue to do till the end of time.

  But that letter bore fruit, as we shall see.

  Things went on much as usual in the Bush. Winter passed away, springcame round and lambing season, and the shepherds were busy once more.Gentleman Craig made several visits to the home farm, and always broughtgood news. It was a glorious time in every way; a more prosperousspring among the sheep no one could wish to have.

  On his last visit to the house Craig stayed a day or two, and Archiewent back with him, accompanied by a man on horseback, with medicinesand some extra stores--clothing and groceries, etc, I mean, for in thosedays live stock was sometimes called stores.

  They made Findlayson's the first night, though it was late. They foundthat the honest Scot had been so busy all day he had scarcely sat downto a meal. Archie and Craig were "in clipping-time" therefore, forthere was roast duck on the table, and delightful potatoes all steaminghot, and, as usual, the black bottle of mountain dew, a "wee drappie" ofwhich he tried in vain to get either Craig or Archie to swallow.

  "Oh, by-the-bye, men," said Findlayson, in the course of the evening--that is, about twelve o'clock--"I hear bad news up the hills way."

  "Indeed," said Craig.

  "Ay, lad. You better ha'e your gun loaded. The blacks, they say, areout in force. They've been killing sheep and bullocks too, and pickingthe best."

  "Well, I don't blame them either. Mind, we white men began the trouble;but, nevertheless, I'll defend my flock."

  Little more was said on the subject. But next morning another and anuglier rumour came. A black fellow or two had been shot, and the tribehad sworn vengeance and held a corroboree.

  "There's a cloud rising," said Findlayson. "I hope it winna brak o'erthe district."

  "I hope not, Findlayson. Anyhow, I know the black fellows well. I'mnot sure I won't ride over after I get back and try to get to the bottomof the difference."

  The out-station, under the immediate charge of Gentleman Craig, wasfully thirty miles more to the north and west than Findlayson's, and oncapital sheep-pasture land, being not very far from the hills--a branchridge that broke off from the main range, and lay almost due east andwest.

  Many a splendidly-wooded glen and gully was here; but at the time of ourstory these were still inhabited by blacks innumerable. Savage, fierce,and vindictive they were in all conscience, but surely not so brave aswe sometimes hear them spoken of, else could they have swept the countryfor miles of the intruding white man. In days gone by they had indeedcommitted some appallingly-shocking massacres; but of late years theyhad seemed contented to either retire before the whites or to becometheir servants, and receive at their hands that moral death--temptationto drink--which has worked such woe among savages in every quarter ofthe inhabitable globe.

  As Archie and his companion came upon the plain where--near the top ofthe creek on a bit of tableland--Craig's "castle," as he called it, wassituated, the owner looked anxiously towards it. At first they couldsee no signs of life; but as they rode farther on, and nearer, theshepherd himself came out to meet them, Roup, the collie, boundingjoyfully on in front, and barking in the exuberance of his glee.

  "All right and safe, shepherd?"

  "All right and safe, sir," the man returned; "but the blacks have beenhere to-day."

  "Then I'll go there to-morrow."

  "I don't think that's a good plan."

  "Oh! isn't it? Well, I'll chance it. Will you come, Mr Broadbent?"

  "I will with pleasure."

  "Anything for dinner, George?"

  "Yes, sir. I expected you; and I've got a grilled pheasant, and fishbesides."

  "Ah, capital! But what made you expect me to-day?"

  "The dog Roup, sir. He was constantly going to the door to look out, soI could have sworn you would come."

  The evening passed away quietly enough.

  Dwelling in this remote region, and liable at any time to be attacked,Gentleman Craig had thought it right to almost make a fort of his littleslab hut. He had two black fellows who worked for him, and with theirassistance a rampart of stones, earth, and wood was thrown up, althoughthese men had often assured him that "he," Craig, "was `corton budgery,'and that there was no fear of the black fellows `mumkill' him."

  "I'm not so very sure about it," thought Craig; "and it is best to be onthe safe side."

  They retired to-night early, having seen to the sheep and set a black towatch, for the dingoes were very destructive.

  Both Craig and Archie slept in the same room, and they hardly undressed,merely taking off their coats, and lying down on the rough bed ofsacking, with collie near the door to do sentry.

  They had not long turned in when the dog began to growl low.

  "Down charge, Roup," said Craig.

  Instead of obeying, the dog sprang to the door, barking fiercely.

  Both Archie and Craig were out of bed in a moment, and handling theirrevolvers. Craig managed to quieten Roup, and then listenedattentively.

  The wind was rising and moaning round the chimney, but above this soundthey could hear a long-prolonged "Coo--oo--ee!"

  "That's a white man's voice," said Craig; "we're safe."

  The door and fort was at once opened, and a minute after five squattersentered.


  "Sorry we came so late," they said; "but we've been and done it, and ittook some time."

  "What have you done?" said Craig.

  "Fired the woods all along the gullies among the hills."

  "Is that fair to the blacks?"

  "Curse them!" exclaimed the spokesman. "Why do they not keep back? Thelaw grumbles if we shoot the dogs, unless in what they please to callself-defence, which means after they have speared our beasts andshepherds, and are standing outside our doors with a nullah ready tobrain us."

  Craig and Archie went to the door and looked towards the hills.

  What a scene was there! The fire seemed to have taken possession of thewhole of the