BUSH CHRISTMAS
WAS spending m>• Christmas, somewhat unexpectI edly, with * my triend i lack Har- ' borough ! i He and I I
had been neighbours and good friends foi j some years, while I was manag- j mg partner on the next nation ' to his. From this position 1 had retired, and though I still retain- j ed my partnership, the managemerit had hern turned over to a 1 younger ruan. 1 had taken up my residence in the neighbourhood of I Sydney, but occasionally I paid ■ B visit to the station to see how | things were going on. I bad just ; JJf been there, and was returning, j » when Jack persuaded me to re j * mam with nun over Christmas His wife, a pretty and lively Mel- [ bourne lady, had prompted the invitation, and would not hear of; my leaving *or nu bacheloi home, j die more espe< billy as it had been ] arranged that their first son, I hough not their first baby, was to be christened on the dav of the festival. Several of our mutual friends had been invited, and l fie- i occasion promised to effect a very pleasant reunion. The Jorgvman who was to officiate I had known for some years, and though he and I were of different churches, that circumstance, especially in the hush, was no bar to agreeable acquaintance. He Had been long rnough in the district to understand and sympathise with the pursuits of those who lived in it, and even when iheir “talk was of oxen,” or of sheep or horses, to take his psrt pleasantly in the Conversation. Ihe others were , mostly old neighbours, and all were Australian ladies and gentlemen, need f say more? Accordingly the occasion and the ceremony were interesting to ad of us and many were the good wishes expressed for the happi- , r.rrs of 'hr little strangei and his re.ients The dinner which 10l lowed was excellent; those who
ffhow what “the hush” can exhibit. do not require to he told that e'en the r* () ugl could not have surpassed •! To complete Bg ©ur enjoyment physically, the day was pleasant -not too hot, ** as Christmas Hay often is, but jj;'* just enjoyably warm After din- . Bor we adjourned to the verandah IWk .on the south side o< the house, (nd continued our con vei sat ion, sydiirh had turned on m, idents and ; * • adventures that we had enroun- » f tnrd ir. the eatly days. Fxperiances were related, and accidents too by flood and held, and reminiscences were tailed up of past occurrences which some of ut had ~s|bi’»d together. When all the gttifsts had contributed lomethmprin this way to the fencral antertimmenr our host said, , . trie way I inmk I ever told * • con tnjf.Jirst Christmas ,ar . ‘ rft . that 'wafijhe year before hi came fo.'flu¥faneHa.” *w, ,'*'*'*& at ijtst I don’t recollect. ay.'' * there* anything parhrtlar a- ' pttont it?v If there was, and you Ip 1 W n,e of it, i certainly would rMe-nah.iVf r-meh.berrtF the •lory.” 'JjKa|ph l da.u’ t think therts'wgs much JK’ fTttiAe a story about, but it wa;. * »tfher peculiar There such ij? a mxt.re of ra|inn. * skcn it is H ’*»<* dfffh■ ajijjiparng new to rook hack on r u 'fSSjffie of our friencls hie who 'L* -have not been quite SO long in * -jf-t 'he bush at yptfsaod. I, man¥ find *■■■ l amusement,to hearing of if now ’’ ♦ , lust rpnwT tip tr lake pijse*s»uO|r»-*t was ;b cattle jta •*W« know »Yc>i, remejti §r r ty l ‘t, whai't ftfcl#r'i\ oni*4?Tr¥fi the ofddiomesiead was. t r , % . f-yM.V he continued, futnsng to r W><- .'tompanv generally, "'he B >*te : t*ell was iusf a .s'ab hut, 0 n tied with rough shingles* and *e»- led and lined with calico—the * whole rather the worse lor weat. 4* ' F w»# built on' sloping grpund, jfr n- rr tfce banv of«the :reek and W,i, »* C.he place hsd not been 'rielled wfcr. doufn the floormgjp V . *ll the rooms exhibited a fjj »- ttfie/Mclrs-ity uwthe direction of 1 t r' f roc t door -The windows (r ~vrt Six-paned adfairs, hung m 'urges, and.tbe thmauey was so r itge th4' we r usred to s'and and ,*ntt>ke iflside of , it, ever, when there was a fire in it You -e-
■* all thi>, Henry, dot I ourae 1 do. You and 1
useo co can tnat cmmney the drawing-room, because we always got in there when the cook was clearing away, after dinner.” "Well, we had been mustering the cattle, and had rather a hard time ol it, hut, as usual, some of the neighbours came to help. Most of you know John Willis. He was there and some of his I men with him, and though he did | not do much himself, he kept us all alive with his jokes, which he I delivered with the greatest gra- ! vity -Sandy Rankin, a rugged I Highlandman, who did little but ! chew gum-twigs and shout to lotheis, nevertheless helped the tun by the pithy retorts which he provoked from some of Ins own I countrymen. If not, like Falstaff, witty himself, he was at least the j cause of wii in other men. "We had done with all the I cattle on the run, except a lot | that went bv themselves in the | corner between the creek and t lie | river, and were shut in on the third side by our boundary fence, i We left them to the last, intend-] ing to muster them by them-' j selves, bm we were not able to gel at them till (he day before ! Christmas, and on that day the ] fun began. ! "We got up at daylight, a'.y as they were close at hand, w* soon got them together, and brought them to the yards. Cur", an overseer from the next f.tai tion, rode forward and dis: ouat- | eU to let down the rails, tin oFur his whip over his horse’s t : . Just as he let them down, twd ■ cow, that had been kept in for a milker, and had somehow got i into yard, made a ■ rush for him, to get out, and i Gunn had to save himself by - jumping the side fence. Some i saplings were lying about, i though none of them were near i enough: and Rankin bawled, , with a twig in his mouth, as • usual, ‘Why didn’t you take a ' stick to her, man?’ ‘How could 1 1?’ retorted Gunn; 'when you have 1 eaten them all?’ We all roared, except Willis; and he, gravely I mimicking Gunn’s accent, vowed ■> it was the best Highland ‘choke’ 1 j he had ever heard in his life. -! “Well, the cow went off, and 5 while the rest steadied and yarded lhe mob, I went after her. Bev 1 (ore I got near her I was out of
I sight of the yards, and away on I the open plain. A buggy was coming along the track that passed the station. As that was the only moving object in sight, her ladyship made for it, ful' tilt, charged the forewheel, smashed some of the spokes, and upset the whole concern. I got up in time to divert her attention, and she made a rush at me next. My horse was rather young, and not very well up to the business, and a little blown besides by our gallop after the cow. She charged me on the left, and before I could turn so as to give her the whip effectually, she rushed through below my horse’s neck, caught one of my reins on her horn, and broke it. This left me very much it her mercy; but, fortunately, as it happened, my hat had fallen off in the scuffle; and she went for it as it lay on the ground, and sent one of her horns through it to the very root. When she lifted her head, she did not know what to make of it, but the strange affair on her horn changed her ideas, and a wav she went careering over the plain With mv broken bridle I had tc lei her go, catrying off my hat tn triumph. ,As soon as I could qmet my riorse. 1 got off, knotted my broken lein, and went back to see about the buggy and its occupants The tnen were an old storekeeper and his son, who bad set up in a rising township about thirty miles off, and were travelling about with the intention ot striking up a trade with the stations Their conveyance was sc damaged that they could go no farther; so f told them-ao take t.h4 horse on to the. station, and we should see by-and-b\ wba l could be done
‘To make a Ung story short, we hat 1 finished the day’s work and .were sitting round the sup-per-table. enjoying the prospect of » res- next day, and of a Christum dinper into the bargain. rhpt time even Christ mas "tself scarcely brought such good cheer as Englishmen think it should; inr station had oeen : n 'he ha"ntls o( two bachelor brothers, 'here was not much on the spc' tc mend the matter. The stapl<* articles of roast-beef and pi inn-pudding it was easy to find of course. But besides, ar my neighbours had bjen so active in aelpioß me. bit wav of doing the
proper thing, I had managed to get a couple of turkeys and some fowls, and some vegetables, too, including potatoes, which in those tea-mutton-and-damper days, were something of a luxury. The stockmen, as well as those whom they irreverently styled ‘the coves,’ were invited to remain, and they were to have their dinner in the ‘barracks,’ which stood . between the house and the men’s huts. “Sitting round the table, after finishing our supper, somehow our talk got to be about ‘snakes.’ 1 think it was the old storekeeper, who was rather new to the bush, that began it. Almost every one had ‘an experience' to tell. One told of a brown snake that used to skim tint cream off the milk in fb" nan try, and which he, with
great misgivings, nulled i>y tiie, tail from between the slabs of the I wall, and despatched with the poker. Another related how he had to deal with a mother and more than a dozen of young ones, some of which took refuge in her throat, and as he had no weapon but a dry stick of saltbush, he said he never had such a job as shepherding that lot till he could kill them. Stories told of snakes dropping from trees on unsuspecting travellers, and even from verandah roofs, and of their sharing the blankets with an unconscious sleeper; and this was capped by an amusing account of a reverend gentleman who spent hours in mortal fright, feeling something strange against his leg, and, not daring to move, till, in desperation, he flung off the bedclothes, and found it to be the tube of an air or water bed, which had been given him as the most comfortable sleepingmachine in the establishment. “ ‘That reminds me,’ said. Willis’s overseer, ‘of a story I was told in Hay, about the trouble of a dignified clergyman with his bed. He slept one night at a station on the Old Man Plain, where they could only give him a bed in the barracks, but they .gave him the whole place to himself. He was tired, and wanted to sleep, but every time, just as he fell over, he was awoke by the strangest crickle-crackling underneath him. After contending with this for a while, he got up and struck a light; and, as he said to the party that told me, on examining his bed, he found that they had actually put him to sleep on the skin of an animal! Of course, the concern was a wooden stretcher, covered with a drv bullock-hide.’
“ ‘I wish,’ said I, ‘that I could give all of you even such good accommodation to-night. After I have got settled down I must make better provision for my friends. Only if the skin of an animal would make you more comfortable, you may have plenty of that commodity, though stretchers are scarce. But, Willis,’ I continued, addressing that gentleman, ‘how was it about that snake you beheaded at the Sandhills Parsonage? It was a very strange affair as I heard it. 1 should like to hear it from yourself.’
" ‘Then,’ said Willis, ‘you are not likely to be gratified, I am afraid. I have never told the story, and I never mean to tell it.’
“ ‘Well, I’ll tell you what I heard about it, and it was Miss Burton herself that fold me. She said that she was sitting in the open door of the children’s schoolroom, and that you were sitting
inside, when you said, without any alteration in youi voice ot manner, 'Miss Burton don’ 1 he alarmed, bis whatc£ei you ter me 10. fieithet move’® speak—will vou promise? She promised, and vou went to the fireplace, took op and dashed the edge n*cn the floor close to her dress. She sprung up then, for she could not help it; and;,she found that you lad cutoff the I head of a snake that had coiled: itself betwesr her is! #-
that, the right way or it?’ “ ‘lf Miss Burton told you, it must be true, of course; for she was present, and very much interested. Besides, I have too much respect for Miss Burton to contradict a lady.’ “All at once there was a strange noise above our heads, and, on looking up, we saw that there was something moving , along the calico ceiling. I believe that everyone thought it was ■ a snake—for there were plenty of ■ them about the place—when the 1 ceiling burst at the seam, and , down fell a living creature into , the dish among the remains of ; the beefsteaks on which we had : been supping. Anderson, who 1 | had been helping the steaks, and i 1 the young storekeeper, who was lion the lei’ l ' side of him, caught the
intruder % tfee H&&, and held him down till W 8 saw what he was. It was an flS»ssum that had got inside the roof, and, travelling along the ceiling, had burst the sewing of the calico, and so had tumbled through. “Bed-time came, and, as beds were scarce, we disposed ourselves as best we might. The only two ihat were in the house were voted to the old man and his son, who were not so used as the rest 'of us to bush accommodation. The barracks were placed at the disposal of the rest, and, one way or another, all found sleeping room. In those days we were well content, especially on a summer's night, with a blanket and something to put under oui heads. Willis and I had the sitting room to ourselves. He elected to lie on the table, and I, with a small joke about a four-post bed, took up my rest under it. Some packed themselves into the same rooms, though not into the same beds, with the storekeeper and his son. Soon we were all asleep, and—l can vouch at least for those who were asleep before me—snoring. We were all pretty tired, and had made up our minds to go in for a night of it. “I don’t know how long I had slept., when I awoke, not with a start, but yet in a state of something like nervousness. Everything was still, and I could not understand it. By-and-by I heard a sharp whisper—‘Harborough! Harborough!’ It was old Willis. I who had stretched his head over ' the end of the table. ‘Harborough! Harborough! under the window! snake! snake!’ The moon was shining into the room, and in the shade, under the window, not three yards from my face, lay coiled up, apparently, an enormous brown snake. I jumped up, threw open the front door, and bolted out, yelling, as they all vowed afterwards; and I suppose it was true, for they heard the alarm even in the barracks. Men came rushing from every quarter, and a very pretty uproar it was. There, however, still layold Willis, taking it quite coolly, and pretending to be asleep—the old rascal. The truth was he could not speak he was perfectly convulsed, and heaving with suppressed laughter. One or two got sticks somehow, and ran at the intruder; when lo! the enormous coiled brown snake was found to be a coiled stock-whip! I was wild, of course, at the old villain’s practical joke—and it was well it was no worse—for the others were taken in as well as myself, and so I escaped being laughed at by the rest. The shake stories of the evening had a good deal to do with the suc-
cess of the imposition, and I believe had suggested it tn the in cetera tc joker I was not then aware that he had a morbid dis ike to be talked about, and that ,he trick was probable hn re venge lot rcy descnpiioo o his adventure at the Sandhills "When those of ui/whc had slept ir the house go't up x.’he rooming, Willi* declared thai we must have |hr sitting .toon? properly dec-rated, and.ss'ted off. ip natch qi (catenalf. tip soon A
came back with one or two of the j men to help him, and told us that we had better clear out, and have a bathe in the creek or something till he had finished. We took his advice, and, while we were in the creek, up galloped Sandy Rankin with a mounted policeman. Sandy, by the way, whose station was only a few miles off on the other side of the river, had gone home in the afternoon, intending to return to us for his Christmas dinner. He had been to the police station at daylight, and had laid a charge against one of his people for horse-stealing; and had come with the trooper, in a tremendous state of excitement, to get Willis to sign the warrant—almost mad with rage against the fellow, a relation of his own, too, who he said had gone off with his two best horses. We tried to reason with him, as we believed there must be some mistake, but the more we said the more furious he got; and absolutely foaming at the mouth, he dashed through the creek, and rode up to the house roaring for Willis. We got out, and dressed, and ran up to the house. Willis was trying to calm him, but it was no use—the warrant bad to be signed, and off went Sandy and the constable to find the fugitive.
“Willis told us that he was not quite ready yet, so we strolled on to the barracks, and were soon joined by those that had their quarters there. We had a long talk and wonderment oyer Sandy’s visit—a very extraordinary ‘first foot’ on a Christmas morning—and we all came to the conclusion that there must be very much more or very much less than horse-stealing in the business. We replaced the storekeeper’s broken wheel by one of the same make taken off an old buggy in the shed; and he started for a station ten miles off, where he should have been the night before. By-and-by we were called to breakfast. On going in had not been idle or unsuccessful. What with branches of young gum, pine, and native cherry, besides the orthodox mistletoe, the we found that Willis and his aids place was wonderfully decorated —festooned round the windows and doors, along the walls close
to the ceiling, and even on the old dirty fly-tapes that crossed from corner to corner. But the most remarkable feature was a picture pinned to the lining above the fireplace, and very artistically surrounded with a wreath of pine. I have had it ever since, and it turned up the other day; I’ll show it you in a minute.”
Going into his room, Jack almost immediately returned with this:—
“There it is,” he continued. ‘Willis would give no account of it—indeed, he would not say a single word about it. Wherever or whenever he had picked it up, he had contrived with a few almost imperceptible touches te make the face an exact likeness. Among his other humours, he was noted for his comic pen-and-ink sketches —often original—often, as in this case, accommodations of things that had struck his fancy. He had hit off the exact look of Gunn not as he jumped over the fence, but as he retoited on Sandy Rankin the day before. This revived the fun of the incident itself and as we looked at
the plain hones* bushmari and fancied him in that cap that gaudv dress, anc those silk stockings and pumps, the idea was intensely ludicrous, and the goodnatured fellow though !t fi r st he looked grave, was soon ( aughing : as heartily as any of us There, j Henry," added Jack handing the: ‘ pictorial illustration’ te me—'T I know that you have been collect- I ing Willis’s sketches, and I b«lieve that will be anmiqoe in your collection." "For two days w« had bad the j wind from the north, and on I Christmas morning it was still \ j from the same quarter While i we were at breakfast, fl began ,io j blow harder; the sky became , overcast with low-banging cfoudi; the heat was oppressive and. we ] all were glad therr Was no-work tc do wh-had./\ntende?Ti have | sorpe shoot.ii|’|ipd.fishing tftbei a I .'fie* creelhwpr V the rivei, ♦which wa y scarcely miles from the station; bailie sucT .ureal : tw 'hes- ’»tdiMenjentie ver-g. not' jtc bf•'thought" el Stitt wedud I chasi anr draughts, it stay, indoors Will’s was an, , enthusiastic whist-player, and. i several of the others could take 9 j a hand There were quoits fore : those who did not like to stay in* and ft quiet corner for rifle prac- j • * • ’ff;
tice could be got down by the creek. So we were not so badly off after all, and till dinner-time we managed to get along famously. The dinner, too, was a success; my married couple managed very well, and we all enjoyed it. The weather outside, however, got more and more stormy—but we knew that we were all the more likely to have a change. Instead of the possible snowstorm like to have an Australian thunderstorm—and then, cooler weather.
“ ‘Don’t you smell smoke?’ exclaimed Colville, who was sitting nearest the open door. Immediately we felt that we did, and made our way out to the verandah. Sure enough, we could see the smoke coming towards us from the direction of the river. On the other side of the creek was a narrow grassy hollow, with straggling box gum-trees and scanty undergrowth, where water lay in winter—a kind of blind creek, connecting our creek with the river-bed. Along this the fire was advancing. As on both sides of it the ground was covered with cotton-bush, there was no chance of its spreading sideways, and the only danger lay in its approach to the creek, when the wind might carry fire across to our side. We called the men, and all turned out to fight the fire Boughs were got, and we stripped for the work, when we heard the sound of galloping hoofs both before and behind us. First ap peared before us a man who kept a boat on the river at the nearest crossing-place. He plunged into the creek, rode up to us, and told us how the fire began. Some blackfellows were roasting an apossum dangerously near to a stack of bush hay which he had got in for his cows, and because he sent them off, they scattered the brands among the grass, and did the very mischief that he was afraid of. His stack was burned, and his cowshed, and he had difficulty in saving his house. All the grass lound bis place was destroyed, and the fire caught the end of the belt of timber. As soon as he could leave he had galloped off to give us warning. Just before he came up to us the wind lulled, and as he finished his
story a flash of lightning almost blinded us The next moment there came a most tremendous peal of thunder, right overhead, and the rain came, down as if a tank had burst, sending us all into the house in a hurry. Glad we were, for we knew that the rain would fight the fire far more effectually than we could. Rut such a rain! I never saw the like before or since; perfect sheets ol water, that you could not set through; while the lightning and the thunder were most terrific. Every hollow and level was cover ed with water several inches deep down the whole slope to the creek one wide torrent was rushing; wr had a stream running through the house from the hack door to the front, and the roof was dropping in every direction. This lasted for two hours, after whir h all set to work to restore comfort as much as possible The temperature had (allrn wonderfully, and, on this account, as well as to dry the_ place, the big chimney, down which the rain had come plentifully, furnishing a tributary to the river that flowed between the doors, was now put to its proper use Bushmen never grumble long at such 'hings so, after all was over wr gathered round the fire, and madr ourselves as comfortable u circumstances would permit Soon our supper, with plenty of good warm tea, made oi aV tolerably r igbt again But we hac not vet done with 'he extraordinary orm-renres of ’hr day. The horseman that we ueard coming up when we were going to the fire was « young 'colonial experience’ man, Jeffries by name, belonging tc s stator fifteen milts -to the He hadbseen 1 Kfc storm coming dnvi and Jiurried up,. to 1 pur “place for shelter. k-rth! -confusion that took plafe he had mixed with the res*-without much notice being taken, "kut when thafw|» over he told itii all about 'his'arrival, and aocthei jstorv and queer ongs he hadjjsiLtftll beujjph which he* hadat the Sahdhyhs that ■ , V-Johfe wwni- Sandy Kid pyirjtfied with a’warr&U for l.crsi-ste&re, hid run aw«v : ; ' Sandykg iferses Hot sqpaych *s with < Sanely!* datteh™ l&kTh*, ytwng vtomarr'was < f and sbmetStßEr over, so ihc ■‘w?* her own mistrtas&M, tbftho mar Hag*. J,«i» .and s lit had v* ■ r- -v
agreed to take the very firs! chance to be off to the nearest clergyman and get married, and they look their opportunity when Sandy was with us helping tc muster. They borrowed a couple of horses for the expedition, Sandy took advantage of this to get out die warrant, hoping tc lay John by the heels before the knot could be lied; but he was hall an-hour, at least, behind the lan, and only succeeded in bothering the runaways and making himself a laughing-stock. John and his bride, who were too lata for the day before, had got married by nine o’clock on Christmas morning Sandy and the constable arrived shortly after, and John, who had left his wife with a female - friend, unfortunately met them in the street. Ke was at once taken into custody and locked up. Sandy was tremendously excited, and would not hear a word from anybody. However, having finished the job nicely,.as he thought, he sought out his daughter, and learned from her that the mischief was done. H refused at fust to believe her, but she showed him at a safe distance her mairiage cer- . tificatc, and the woman of the house, who had been present at the ceremoQLV, gave her testimony, to the fact. Sandv betook himself to the ‘Stockman’s Arms,' 1 and sought consolation in sundry nobblers of Scotch whisky; and having left his horse Ihete, and got a fresh one, was about to start for home when Jeffries came away. "Now, " said my friend Jack, "was not that ratner an ev'entfnl Christmas? I don't think tbev could match all that in tl> t - ’d country, either for weather or for incident. Vet it's rathe-, a Liing," he concluded, “that we don't oflen match it here.’’ With this conclusion we aH heartily agreed
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Bibliographic details
Northland Age, Volume VIII, Issue 26, 16 February 1912, Page 8
Word Count
4,741BUSH CHRISTMAS Northland Age, Volume VIII, Issue 26, 16 February 1912, Page 8
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