Struggle between blacks and whites - 116° F. heat - Cool nights - Troubles - Bush-life - How the bushman spends his money - Inundations - Back again to Gracemere - A greedy snake - Courtship in the bush.
After staying eight days at the barracks, I felt so well that I was able to ride back to Elderslie. But on the way I became ill again, and repeatedly had to dismount from my horse and lie down on the ground to rest.
It was my original intention to go farther west and nearer the Gulf of Carpentaria, but my miserable condition made it impossible for me to proceed. I did not see how I was to get back to the coast, for I grew worse and worse every day. After being ill for about a month, I was at length able to start on my way back. I now laid my route via Bledensbourne, chiefly for the purpose of getting possession of a large, white, fruit-eating bat, but I did not succeed, although I searched several caves which these animals were said to frequent. The large lizards, commonly called iguana, here attain so great a size that they possibly may be a new species.
In the vicinity of Bledensbourne I was shown a large number of skulls of natives who had been shot by the black police in the following circumstances: A couple of teams with provisions for the far west, conducted by two white men, had encamped near the blacks. The latter were lying in ambush, and meant to make an assault, as two black women had been ravished by the white men. Instead of defending themselves with their weapons, the white men were cowardly-enough to take flight, leaving all their provisions, oxen, tent, and all their other things in the hands of the blacks. The fugitives reported to the police that they had been attacked, and so the "criminals" a few weeks afterwards were pursued far into a narrow valley and shot. I visited the spot in company with the manager of Bledensbourne Station, and saw seven or eight of the skulls. According to the statement made by several persons, nearly the whole tribe was killed, as there was no opportunity of flight.
This is one of the many cruelties perpetrated by the native police against the natives, and the most thrilling stories could be told of their conduct. Their cruelties constitute the black page in the annals of Australian colonisation. This police force has become more and more unpopular, and voices have been raised for its entire abolition. The police inspector often left it to his men to do the murdering, "to disperse the blacks," as it is called, at their own risk. He thus shirked the responsibility and retained his post; for he does not dare kill the blacks openly, at least not at the present time.
It is not strange that such an institution is hated by the blacks, or that they take every opportunity of revenge. During my sojourn here an inspector was killed by a spear hurled by the blacks, while he was treating with the savages, and a year later they killed another inspector in his own camp at night.
The summer heat had now set in, as it was already late in November. The sun was at its zenith, and poured down its scorching rays day by day, unrelieved by a cooling breath of air or by any refreshing lake or prattling brook - only mocking fata morgana. There was no animal life to be seen; all living things sought refuge from the burning heat of the sun. 104° to 105° F. in the shade was the average heat. The highest temperature I observed was 116° F., and the heat was then so great that it seemed oppressive even to sit still. The wind that blew was as hot as if it came from an oven, and the thermometer rose and fell with the wind. Still, the climate was more tolerable here than on the banks of the Diamantina river, where the thermometer rose to 126° F. in three consecutive days, a perfectly exceptional heat, even in tropical Australia. The trees which are to be found furnish but little protection against the beams of the sun, for their foliage generally hangs vertically from the branches, and consequently gives but little shade. When I rested at noon, I could find shade nowhere except under the horse. As a rule I do not suffer from heat, and am able to ride all day long beneath the perpendicular rays of the sun; but at this time I was weak from my illness, and the hot weather was too much for me. Many times in a day I had to lie down in the burning rays of the sun and rest my weary limbs.
The coolness of the night, however, makes the people in general feel comfortable. As soon as the sun sets the air is cooled, as it is not moist enough to retain much of the heat. The thermometer would sink 40°F., so that I needed a woollen blanket to keep myself warm during the night. To my other troubles was added the annoyance of the flies, which at some stations were so bad that it was necessary to eat under mosquito-nets. These nuisances are especially troublesome to the eyes, which when bitten by the flies first smart and then swell up, so that they sometimes cannot be opened for several hours. To keep the flies away from the eyes, we wore nets over our faces, and even the horses were protected in this manner.
"Life in Western Queensland during the summer is simply a struggle with the flies"; "When I am about to sign a draft, I must have a man to fan the flies away and watch the inkstand," are expressions which I still remember to have heard in that country.
The specimens I had collected were kept in a number of pasteboard boxes, which had to be loaded and unloaded every morning and evening. I had to dismount many times a day to straighten them, for they soon became disordered, and galled the back of the horse by not being evenly balanced. Once I nearly lost all, as my active packhorse got loose and galloped away, kicking up all sorts of pranks and nearly getting the whole load under his belly. Gradually my horses became so lean and poor from the long journey that I scarcely believed they would live till I reached my destination. In spite of every care taken, the back of my pack-horse became galled, and this was another reason why I had to travel slowly.
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Both at Winton and at Thompson I found an old acquaintance from Europe, the greenshank (Totanus glottis), but both times I saw but one bird, and it was exceedingly shy. Animal life awakes and makes its appearance only about sunset, and is observed chiefly near the water-holes. There are many varieties of birds, but as a rule there are but few of each kind; generally they are scattered over a large territory, though some of them are strangely confined to a very limited territory. The cockatoos and hawks are comparatively numerous, and the kites and the beautiful black falcons (Falco subniger) are particularly noticeable.
After many difficulties I finally came to a hut, in which there lived a boundary-rider. I now began to approach more densely-populated regions, and the next day I arrived tired, with my exhausted horses, at Isis Downs station, where I for several days enjoyed much-needed rest and obtained milk, which is a great rarity in Western Queensland.
Christmas Eve I returned to Minnie Downs in terribly hot weather. It was so hot that even under cover at the station we had to seek relief in wet towels wound about the head. In such weather, when the air seems to vibrate, we shrink from going out, just as much as we do at home in Norway when it is bitterly cold. As a rule people in Australia pay no attention to the heat. The work goes on regularly at the station, and singularly enough, the heat is felt much less out of doors when one is hard at work than when sitting still doing nothing in the house. Those who drink to excess are most troubled by it In Rockhampton, for instance, nine drunkards died in one week. But, with all this, the climate of Queensland is healthier than that of any other country in the same degree of latitude.
It is not necessary here, as in many other tropical lands, to send the children to colder climes to be reared. They grow strong, and are the pictures of health. Of course there is fever, but almost exclusively in new-settled districts, where the soil is yet uncultivated. Though sometimes fatal, it is generally of a far milder type here than in other tropical lands. A man who had lived for two years in a fever locality without perceiving any symptoms of the disease, had his first attack after taking cold. As the soil gradually becomes cultivated, the fever disappears.
Another illness which troubles the colonists is sandy blight, a very severe disease of the eye, which sometimes ends in blindness. In Western Queensland people are also subject to bad sores on the hand, called Barcoo-rot; a traveller will be struck by the fact that nearly everybody wears a bandage about his hands, because the most insignificant scratch develops into a large sore which may last for months. Beliander is also a common disease in Queensland; without the slightest apparent cause, a person is suddenly seized with vomiting, but is relieved just as suddenly. These diseases doubtless have their origin in the climatic conditions, and the colonists have therefore acquired the habit of blaming the climate whenever they are ill.
It cannot but surprise us how people keep in tolerably good health who take as little care of themselves as the bushman does. He gets up before sunrise, eats, saddles his horse and rides to his work. As a rule, he is out all day until sunset. He sleeps in rainy weather under the open sky; he eats whenever it happens to be convenient, if he has the time - if not he waits until he finds time; he lives on salt beef and damper every day; he drinks muddy water or alcohol : such is the bushman's mode of life.
Externally there is no difference between the squatter and his workmen. All are dressed alike, and do the same work; no kind of work is dishonourable. I have seen young gentlemen beneath a scorching sun do work that the common labourer in Norway would regard as below his dignity. The long, short-handled whip, which the bushman uses for horses and cattle, is his chief implement, and this he handles with great dexterity.
When the day's work is done, the squatter retires in the evening to the main building, where he usually takes a bath previous to his dinner, which is of a solid kind, frequently with vegetables, but without much variety. At the same time the working man goes to his more modest hut, where he drinks his tea with damper and salt beef. Jams are not uncommon as articles of luxury, and are eaten with the bread.
Women are but seldom seen at the stations. The squatter is usually a married man, at least in the most civilised districts, but the hands rarely have wives. Hence the women who venture into this far west country soon find their fortunes, for in Queensland there are 142 men to every 100 women.
During my stay at Winton I had an opportunity of observing how quickly the chains of matrimony are forged in Western Queensland. An Irish girl who had recently arrived was standing over the wash-tub, and soon attracted the attention of a bushman. He entered into conversation with her, and after half an hour they agreed to get married; she wiped the soap off her arms, and so both proceeded without making any further toilet to the magistrate to have the ceremony performed.
In the long run the station life becomes very monotonous. The squatter therefore makes a trip to Melbourne, to Sydney, or even to Europe, while the labourer amuses himself as best he can where he is. Twice a year races are got up. The men are very fond of horses, and they take a deep interest in the races in the cities, betting heavily on the different events. Newspapers, which are extensively read everywhere in Australia, also find their way to the bush, as the Government provides for the carrying of mails to nearly every station.
The bushman has but few wants, and consequently saves nearly all his wages; but after a year or two he naturally feels the need of change, and so goes to the squatter to ask for a cheque - for ready money is not used in the bush. It frequently amounts to £100, and then he makes up his mind to have some sport. He takes his horses, rides off, dismounts in the first little village and "has a good time " - that is to say, he drinks every kind of liquor that is to be had. He hands his cheque or draft to his host, and from this time forward he lives in a perpetual state of intoxication as long as he has a penny left, and all who approach him drink his health at his expense - live and let live! Nervous and prostrated, he finally comes back to the bush, works a year or two more, and again returns to the village as a man of means to repeat the old story. The liquors he consumes are of course manufactured according to the receipt of the keeper of the dram-shop; they are poor and adulterated - simple poison. This shameful business is chiefly carried on on the borders of civilisation, and there are many stories about dram-shop keepers who have accumulated fortunes by vending this awful stuff. A few years ago there was a terrible report about such a liquor-dealer in Isisford. He had a special burial-place for all those who were not strong enough to survive his treatment.
Towards the end of January 1882 I bade farewell to Western Queensland, and left Minnie Downs. From Tambo I travelled for a time in the coach of the well-known stage company, Cobb and Co., but as there was no place for my dog, I had to walk the last twenty-seven miles before I reached the railroad station, and from there I had a long day's journey by rail to Rockhampton. During the last fourteen days the heat was very oppressive; black clouds gathered in the rainy season; and I reached Gracemere just in the right time, for the following day the rain began to pour down in the greater part of Central Queensland, and it rained so violently that large districts were flooded. A mail-carrier from Aramac had to stay for three days in a tree to escape the flood. These terrible inundations are thought to be periodical. Mr. C. Russel tries to show that they occur every nineteenth year in the Darling river district.
It seemed refreshing to be once more in a moist coast climate. The results of my journey did not correspond to my exertions, although I had found some very interesting objects. Amid many privations I had traversed 1700 miles, and was now merely gathering strength for a journey to Northern Queensland.
Before I leave Gracemere I must relate a snake story connected with it. One forenoon I was asked to come down to the garden to kill a snake. As I approached the place I was greatly astonished to find the reptile hanging dead down a stone wall. At the same time I noticed the head of another snake concealed farther up the wall, which had seized the dead serpent by the middle, so that the head and tail of the latter touched the ground. As it was difficult for the victor to swallow his prey in the above-described position, he dropped it to the ground and crept down after it. Meanwhile I had stepped back, and from my place of concealment I could now watch and see what it was going to do. They were both of about the same size. The serpent laid itself conveniently opposite its victim, and began to swallow it. Its jaws were opened wide, wild with desire; the head of the dead serpent disappeared past its greedy teeth, and the rest of it soon slipped down.
I allowed it to swallow about one-third of the dead serpent; then I stepped forward and gave it a blow across the back. It now tried with all its might to get rid of its prey, but the head stuck fast in its throat, and it soon had to succumb to my blows. In this condition they were put in spirits, as they could not be separated except by force. The greedy animal was a brown snake (Hoplocephalus), one of the most venomous in Australia. Its prey was a harmless kind, the so-called brown tree-snake (Dipsas fusca). The venomous one measured 4 feet 2 inches, and the other 4 feet 7 inches.
Snakes were numerous in this vicinity, as everywhere in Australia. At Waverley station, not far from Gracemere, one man in two days killed 203. The country was flat, and stood under water in the rainy season. The snakes found their way up to his hut, which was situated on high ground, so that he could do nothing for two days but defend himself, as they literally besieged his house.