by Louis Becke
II
A few days later my mate arrived with the dray, which we at onceunloaded, and then turned the horses out to feed and have a spell beforeworking them again. Every night since I had arrived a thunderstorm hadoccurred, much to my delight, and already the once cracked and bakingflats were beginning to put on a carpet of grass; and indeed, in threeweeks it was eighteen inches high, and made a glorious sight, thefew remaining cattle eating it so hungrily that when night fell thecreatures were scarcely able to move, so distended were their stomachs.
Having started our aboriginal friends to cut down ironbark saplingsto repair the fencing, we first of all paid a visit to our nearestneighbour, a settler named Dick Bullen, who lived ten miles away. Hereceived us most hospitably, like all good bushmen, and offered toassist us in looking for lost cattle. He was a splendid type of thenative-born Australian bushman, over six feet two in height, and simpleand unaffected in his manner. I shall remember this man for one thing.He had two of the finest teams of working bullocks I have ever seen, andhandled them in a way that commanded our admiration. Never once did heuse his whip for any other purpose than to crack it occasionally, and itdid one good to hear his cheery call to the fourteen labouring beasts asthey toiled up the steep side of a creek or gully with a heavy load oftimber, straining every nerve in their great bodies, while the sweatpoured off their coats in streams. He was like one of his own bullocks,patient, cheerful, and strong, and an exclamation of anger seldom passedhis lips--an oath never. He took a great pride in the appearance of histeams, and especially of the fact that no one of them showed the marksof a whip.
We spent a pleasant hour with this man, and returned home by a differentroute, in the hope of getting a "plain" turkey--an altogether differentbird from the "scrub" turkey. Hansen (my mate) was an excellent shot,especially with a rifle, and indeed when shooting turkeys preferred touse a 44 Winchester rifle. We managed to get one bird--a cock--but soold and poor that we gave it to the black contingent to eat. Nothing inthe shape of food came amiss to these people, and their appetites wereastounding. One day Hansen and I were following down a creek whichjunctioned with the Reid River, when we saw smoke ascending from a drygully. Riding up we came across a very old and shrivelled gin and a boyand girl of about eight years of age. They were busily engaged in eatingemu eggs, and out of thirteen had already devoured eleven, togetherwith four or five hundred of fresh-water cockles! Such a meal wouldhave satisfied half a dozen hungry white men. Their over-loaded stomachspresented a disgusting appearance, and they were scarcely able toarticulate.
A week after our arrival the blacks told us that there were indicationsthat the rainy season would come on earlier than usual, and that game,except duck and spur-winged plover, would be very scarce; also that ifthe creek came down in flood, it would carry away most of the fish. Thiswas bad news for such ardent sportsmen as Hansen and myself, for we werelooking forward to plenty of fishing and shooting, not alone for itspleasures, but also because we were charged heavily for anything butthe ordinary salt beef, tea, sugar and flour. Sardines and tinned salmonwere luxuries we could not afford, but fresh fish and game were better,and, even when salted, were preferrable to a continuous diet of beef.
We had among our stores a 250 lb. bag of coarse salt--we had to kill ourown meat and salt it down--and I proposed that we should at once set towork whilst the weather was fine and spend a week shooting and fishing.Such game as plain turkeys (the bustard), scrub turkeys, cockatoos,ducks, &c., we could put in brine, whilst the fish could be drysaltedand then put in the sun to dry. Hansen quite approved the idea, andwe at once set to work. I was to be fisherman, and he the gunner;for, curiously enough, my mate was the most helpless creatures with afishing-line or rod that I ever saw. In five minutes he would eitherhave his line hopelessly tangled, his rod broken, or his hook caught inhis hand; and yet he never lost his temper.
Taking with me two sturdy black boys as porters, and also bringing mygun and ammunition in case of meeting duck, I set out on foot, Hansenriding off, accompanied by a blackfellow, to a chain of shallow lagoonsfive miles away.
Within a quarter of a mile from the house was a fine deep water-holeformed by the creek being here confined between high banks. At oneend, however, an exposed bar of small, coarse round pebbles ran almostacross, and here I decided to begin, instead of from the bank, for notonly were snakes difficult to see in the undergrowth, but plants ofthe dreaded stinging-tree were also growing around and between themagnificent gums and the Leichhardts. These latter trees, named afterthe ill-fated Dr. Leichhardt, are, I think, the most strikingly handsomeof all large trees in the north of Queensland. They love to grow nearor even in the water, and their broad, beautiful leaves give a welcomeshade.
But before I descended to the bank I had to remain for some minutes togaze on the beauty of the scene. The water at one end of the pool was ofthe deepest blue, towards the pebbly bar it gradually shallowed, andfor the next eight or ten feet from the margin was as clear as crystal.Close in under the banks the broad leaves of blue flowering water-liliescovered the surface with a carpet of many shades of green and pink;hovering above the lily leaves were hundreds of small whitebutterflies, with here and there a black and yellow-banded dragon-fly--"horse-stingers" the Australian youth call them. Not a sound broke thesilence, except now and then the rippling splash of a fish rising tothe surface, or the peculiar _click, click_ made by a crayfish burrowingunder a stone.
I leant over the bank and looked down, and then gave a start ofpleasure, for right beneath me were three fish floating motionless onthe surface--fish that, until then, I never knew lived in fresh water.They were in shape, colour, and appearance exactly like the toothed garso common on the sea coast--a long slender body with back of dark blue,sides of silvery white, and fins and tail of blue tipped with yellow. Iwas so excited that I was about to shoot them, but remembered that at soshort a distance I should have only blown them to pieces, especially asthey were directly beneath me. I motioned to the blackboys to come andlook; they did so, and I learnt that these fish, when the creek waslow, were sometimes plentiful, and would take almost any floating bait,especially if it were alive.
Eager to begin, I told the boys to collect some crayfish for bait, butthey said that it would take too long, and small fish were better, andrunning to some small lily-covered pools about two feet in diameter, andvery shallow, they jumped in and stirred up the sand and muddy sedimentat the bottom. In a few minutes some scores of very pretty red andsilvery-hued minnows were thrown out on the sand. I quickly baited myline, and threw it, with the sinker attached, into the centre of thepool; before it could sink the bait was taken by a fine bream of 2lbs., which I landed safely, and tossed to the boys. It was the firstfresh-water bream I had caught in Queensland, and I felt elated.
Finding that the pool was clear of snags, I bent on three extra hooks,baiting each one with the whole of a tiny fish. Again the baits wereseized before they reached the bottom; I hauled in two more bream, andas they came struggling and splashing into the shallow water I saw theywere being followed by literally hundreds of the same species, and alsoby fish much like an English grayling--the pool seemed to be alive!The presence of such large numbers in so circumscribed a space could,however, be easily accounted for by the absence of rain for so manymonths, the drying up of many minor pools and stretches, and thediminution of the water generally throughout the creek and itstributaries driving the fish to congregate in the deeper and largerpools.
By noon I had caught as many fish as the boys could carry. None, it istrue, were very large, 2 1/2 lbs. being the heaviest; but I was pleasedto learn that there were places farther down the creek where the blacksfrequently caught some very large cat-fish; when the water wasmuddy from heavy rain. These cat-fish, or, as some people call them,"jew-fish," are the heaviest and best of all the Queensland river fishI have ever tasted, except those which, for want of their true name, Icalled grayling, and Hansen asserted were trout.
Sending the black boys off with the
fish, I cut a rod from a she-oak andquickly rigged a line; for a float I used a small piece of dead wood,and baited with the largest minnow I could find. Then, clambering upthe bank, I found a suitable open place to stand at the butt of aLeichhardt, from where I had a good view. I could not, however, see anyof the gars, one at least of which I was so anxious to get, but made acast into the centre--and almost instantly one darted out from under thelily leaves and hooked himself beautifully, but in swinging him out myline fouled a thorny bush, and for a minute I was in despair; there wasthe shining beauty suspended over the water, and almost making a circleof his body in his struggle to escape. At last, however, I cleared myline, and swung my prize high up on the bank. Determined to get a betterrod, and return after dinner, I picked up gun and fish and followed theboys.
By sunset I had a catch of fish that fairly astonished Hansen when hereturned at dusk with but half a dozen black duck, two or three teal,and two turkeys. All
