Force and Fraud (32 page)

“When people walk about the streets of this rising township,” he said, “and admire the rapid progress of different institutions, they seldom reflect that a quarter of a century has scarcely elapsed since this spot was trodden only by a few settlers; or by the race they were to exterminate. But it was not in this locality where I became the enemy of the aborigines. I see a gentleman in that corner look rather scandalised at this remark; and it may, perhaps, appear uncharitable to those who came into these colonies long after
we
had tamed or driven away the remnant of the natives. Well, I
was
their enemy – I am so still – and their enemy I shall ever remain; and a very good reason have I for feeling the most deadly hatred towards them.

I had been residing rather more than a year in Sydney – after my arrival in this part of the world – when I became informed of the whereabouts of an uncle, who had settled in a locality to me utterly unknown. It was then a lonely place, and one at that time seldom visited, excepting by a few adventurous explorers; but now a thriving district near to Deniliquin. My uncle had two sons and three daughters – the two younger girls being mere children, the eldest a fine young woman of seventeen. One of her brothers was two years older, the other a year and a half younger than herself.

I was then about twenty; as tall, and nearly as stout as I am now; strong and resolute, and, therefore, not unfit to assist my uncle in clearing his land and looking after his stock. It was to aid him in these undertakings, that I accompanied the men – who had been sent to Sydney with wool – to the district in which my uncle resided. It was a long and hazardous journey; a great portion of it lying through a country that had only been partially explored; a circumstance which compelled us, on several occasions, to make a very circuitous route, in order to avoid an attack from the natives.

At length we reached a hut which had been hastily put up by my uncle as a temporary abode, till a more commodious dwelling could be erected in its stead. This hut was tenanted only by a shepherd and his son, whose business it was to tend the cattle which my uncle had lately bought, together with a few thousand acres; the farther boundary of the land being about twenty five miles from the station.

“Thank God there is the hut – we can rest there,” said McTavish, the leader of the party, when the small structure appeared in sight.

“Had we not better push on to the station at once?” I asked, for I thought if I yielded to a growing sense of fatigue, I should have some difficulty in resuming my journey.

“We'd make for the station fast enough, if there was a chance of reaching it,” replied McTavish. “But there are blackfellows on our track, and we may think ourselves fortunate if we can obtain shelter in the hut. As I'm alive, I see a dozen or more of their ugly faces behind the scrub. Ride on, my men! We have not an instant to lose!”

We spurred on our jaded horses, and in a few minutes reached the hut. The door was fastened, but the great bar which protected it was at once withdrawn by the shepherd within, who said, “For God's sake, come in quickly, and lead your horses through into the kitchen – there is no other place for them.”

Our leader alighted, and led his horse into a portion of the hut designated ‘the kitchen' though the whole dwelling consisted merely of two rooms, and there was very little distinction between them. We followed his example, removing our saddles, which was almost all the alleviation we could afford to the weary animals.

“The beasts must e'en take their chance like ourselves, and I canna tell whether I be glad to see ye or no. We have a lot o' blackfellows a great deal nearer to us than is pleasant; and it's odds if ye'll aid us or add to our danger,” said the shepherd.

“We'll try to aid ye, Jock,” said McTavish, “but I'm afraid that if the defenders are increased in number, the assailants are so likewise, for there are blackfellows on our track.”

“The de'il!” exclaimed Jock.

And the next moment the presence of the savages was announced by a frightful yell; and through several crevices between the slabs of the hut appeared the sharp points of our enemies' spears.

We had no means of resisting the attack, neither of adding to our defence; save by raising the beds and the mattresses of the shepherd and his son against the walls on one side of the hut, and the table and all the rugs we could muster on the other. Our position was perilous in the extreme; our only hope being that assistance might arrive from the station before the slabs of the hut gave way, or before we perished with thirst, for the shepherd had but a scanty supply of water to be distributed amongst so many.

It is true that we had provided ourselves with a few bottles of rum; and this liquor served as a stimulant, though it was of little use in allaying our thirst. The sight of a large chest of tea, which Jock had lately received from his employer, added to our irritation, for if we had availed ourselves of it, the appearance of smoke issuing from the chimney would at once have suggested the idea of cooking to the enemy, and caused them to be still more daring in their attack.

In this manner four nights and three days passed away, by which time we were almost mad with thirst. One of our horses had died from a spear wound, the weapon having penetrated the wall against which the poor animal stood. We, apprehensive of a similar fate, sat huddled together in the middle of the room. Still were we horribly conscious of the presence of our foe, and of the incessant shivering of their spears, the points of which had now made fearful rents in the fragile edifice. The moaning of the cattle at a distance also prepared us for another calamity, though I – a stranger then to bush life – was not aware of the cause till McTavish exclaimed, “These infernal savages have speared the poor animals.”

Things had now reached a climax, and suddenly the shower of spears ceased, and the sound of firing was heard, followed by a yell. McTavish called an order to retreat, and this announced that the enemy had taken flight.

“Courage, my poor fellows!” said my uncle, as he broke open the door of the hut. “Half your foes are dead, and the other half in no condition to do much harm.”

Our deliverance was now effected; for my uncle, alarmed by the delay of our party, had sallied forth, accompanied by his stockmen – and just in time to save us from destruction, as our little fortress could not much longer withstand the attack.

We soon found that three hundred head of cattle had been speared by the savages, and the rest of the herd driven away; although the greater portion found their way to the station.

“So, nephew, this is your first encounter with the blacks, I suppose,” said my uncle, when he released me from my captivity.

“I cannot call being bailed-up in a hut by these fellows an encounter with them; but I'll let them see what I can do one of these days,” I replied.

And I have kept my word.

After a year spent amongst my uncle's family, I gained some applause for my skill as a bushman – though I had little merit for the same – having taken to that sort of life with the greatest eagerness. At the end of this time I went, with my eldest cousin, to reside at his station; the place where the shepherd's hut had formerly stood.

One evening, as we were going to visit our relatives, we were surprised by perceiving indications of a bush fire in the distance. This should not have seemed an extraordinary circumstance during the heat of summer, but the season was now far too much advanced for such a thing to have happened; excepting by extreme carelessness on the part of those who had lighted a fire in the bush – or by wanton mischief. Whilst we were debating about the strangeness of the occurrence, a boy came running towards us, exclaiming, “The blackfellows have set fire to the station, and have speared some of the men in the stockyard.”

We galloped on as fast as our horses could carry us, but arrived too late – for, although the ground was strewn with the corpses of blackfellows, several of the stockmen were also killed. On entering the house, we found my uncle and all his family inhumanly slaughtered.

I am not generally supposed to be a tender-hearted man but, even after this lapse of time, I cannot speak of that occurrence without feeling almost as much anguish as I experienced on that terrible night. I therefore pass over the description of a sight which sufficed to change the whole current of my nature. But I ask, do you wonder that I henceforth became the bitter enemy of the blackfellows? If you had seen that poor old man lying dead, his grey hair dabbled in his blood; if you had seen his beautiful daughter, Isabella, pierced by the spears of these savages; if you had had the cause for hatred that I have, there is not one amongst you who would not likewise have been their enemy.

But do not suppose that one amongst their tribe escaped unpunished; as every settler, for hundreds of miles around, mustered all his men to hunt the scoundrels to death. And in less than two months, there was not a blackfellow in the district.

We did not care
how
we destroyed them. Once, we got an old fieldpiece – that some naval officer had left as a trophy of
his
deeds to this descendants – and it did us good service; for we charged it with broken glass and fired it off amongst the scoundrels. Nicely mangled they were, as you may suppose, and a hideous noise they made; but we soon put a stop to that, for we lighted a good fire, and threw the dying into it. Ha! I shall never forget one old fellow, who had lain on the ground, pretending to be dead; a cunning trick of theirs, for they think white men respect a corpse. However, he did not play his part very well, for he trembled – perhaps he was frightened – and we soon gave him cause to be so, as we threw him into the fire, on the top of his companions. An obstinate old fellow he was, being determined not to die if he could help it; and, hoping to escape, he crawled away from the burning logs like a snake. He had some spirit in him, that blackfellow; but we threw him back again into the flames, and he was burnt
with
a snake, as one lay coiled up amongst the scrub; and so we got rid of two reptiles at the same time.

That was the night which haunts the memory of my friend McLean; but he is only half a Highlander, and does not know how to
hate
.

I did not stop with this exploit. How could I? A pretty thing it would have been to give way to idle sentiment, when I had just taken up land in a district where the blackfellows had not been taught how to behave themselves; and I said so, to some good neighbours of mine, who fancied that savages were to be gained over by kindness. If I had not known to the contrary, I should have found it out, for – just by way of convincing my charitable friends of their mistake – I distributed blankets amongst some of the natives – giving them at the same time both rum and flour. To reward my bounty, they speared some of my cattle. But we soon brought them under subjection.

The next year, I had a narrow escape. As I was rowing down the Murrumbidgee with a couple of friends, a dozen blackfellows lay in ambush amongst the mangroves; and as soon as they thought we were in their power, they assailed us with their spears. It was a miracle how we escaped; and it would have been altogether an impossibility, had not the river been unusually high at the time and the current very strong. Consequently, we were carried out of their immediate reach, and enabled to row away faster than even the nimblest of all nimble blackfellows can run.

Such were the men – animals I should say – whom my righteous friends said I should
trust
. However, we treated our foe of the Murrumbidgee as we had treated others; for we had a good stock of powder and shot in our boat, and we peppered the rascals pretty well with it, giving those who escaped unhurt plenty to do in looking after their wounded companions, without pursuing us any farther.

In a few weeks I reached my station, where I found a well-intentioned gentleman, lately arrived from the Old Country who, knowing very little about any colonial race, and nothing at all of our aborigines, argued as others had done before him, on the advisability of treating them like brothers. By this he meant, as philanthropists generally do, giving away what they did not want themselves. I humoured my well-meaning friend for a little while, and then distributed blankets and bread, as I had formerly done. But, having important business in Sydney, I left my station under the superintendence of my friend McLean. I was absent several months; and, on my return, found that my two compassionate friends had been trying the argument of weak tea, and still weaker talk, on the natives.

“No weak measures will do with these fellows,” I said, in answer to their assurances that their plan would succeed. And the result proved that
I
was in the right; for in the course of a few weeks, our black neighbours, having joined a tribe of their allies, mustered in great numbers, and it required all our exertions to prevent a disaster similar to that I have already described. Fortunately, however, we were well armed, and by this time even McLean admitted that mercy would be madness; and thus, by a vigorous attack, we either killed or dispersed our treacherous enemies.

That district has been safe from their attacks ever since, but the station on the Murrumbidgee continued to be infested by a prowling set of fellows, who were continually pilfering when they did not venture upon acts of greater violence. However, we allowed them to poison themselves with adulterated flour; that is to say, flour adulterated with arsenic.

McLean pretends that the spirits of these fellows haunt him in his sleep; but I can't say that
they
trouble my repose, though I often see the murdered forms of my poor uncle, his amiable wife, his innocent children, and especially the beautiful Isabella; and till I see them no longer, shall I be an enemy to the blackfellows.

Understand, however, I do not mean such miserable creatures as the poor drudge employed about this hotel; though I think even
he
would not be safe from the hatred of my cousin – the only survivor of that unfortunate family.