A TANGLED SKEIN.

New Zealand Herald, Volume IV, Issue 990, 16 January 1867, Page 5

A TANGLED SKEIN.

A TALE OF ENGLISH AND COLONIAL, LIFE [Written for the Weekly Herald.] CHAPTER xvirr. A RECOGNITION AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. Curzon was enchanted on his arrival at Merribee with tho appearance of the station. A cluster of large sheds and stockyards stood in one part of an open space, while at sonm distance was a farinhou.se, of stone, painted white, surrounded by all the usual appliances and conveniences appertaining to a first-class farm. As far as the eye could reach extended the bush, in parts broken, and in other places of impenetrable solidity, forming a dark green belt to the lighter verdure of the fields and meadows, while quantities of cattle dotted the open parts of the bush. "Welcome to Merribee," said Meredith, shaking Curzon's hand as he alighted; " I hope you like the appearance of the estate." " Tis magnificent," he replied ; " upon my word, you do things on a royal scale in this country. I suppose that immense mob of cattle which I see rushing furiously along in the distance forms part of your animated wealth?" " re phcd Meredith, " I will shew you a run in its true aspect when we ride over to Fowler's. We have driven the kangaroos away for a few miles, but I propose having some sport with them before you leave." "I suppose you feol happy once more, in the peaceful enjoyment of your home," said Curzon at breakfast next morning, addressing Mrs. Meredith. " I do, indeed," she replied, " though I consented to acompany Mr. Meredith and the girls to England, I must confess my heart is fixed here. liong residence in the sunny South has made me loth to leave it." " I find I cannot go with you to Fowler's, today, as I intended," said Meredith, "my men had fixed on to-day for branding, during my absence, and I must remain with them. My head man and two others, however, are going to look after some lost bullocks, and if you ride with them you may come across a kangaroo." Curzon looked at Mrs. Meredith as though ho would rather remain with the ladies; but she said, with a smile, "I think you had better go, Percy, for as Emily and I have assist the servants in getting the house in ordsr after our long absence, we shall be too busy to talk." Thus compelled to go, Curzon mounted a horse which Meredith sent him, and rode off with the stockmen, Crane, Philips, and Powell. "Are you a good horseman?" inquired Crane. " I was considered passable at Melton," returned Curzon, " but this is a different sort of country altogether." " Slightly," replied Crane,as they half galloped, half slid down a steep declivity, thickly covered with brushwood ; " no fear here of your horse refusing if his rider is game, a good stock-horse will face anything. Still there are some nasty jumps in Leicestershire" he added ; " I broke my left arm hunting with the Melton pack upon ono occasion." " Did you hunt with the Melton?" inquired Curzon, rather surprised. "Two seasons;" replied Crane, "you seem astonished."

" Nay, I'm sure"—began Curzon. "No apologies," replied the other, smiling. "You will meet with some curious men in the colonies. I suppose now if I were to quote Aristophanes or iVlartial to you, you would not know wliat to make of it ?" " Arc you an University man ?" asked Curzon. "I took my 8.A., and rowed in the Oxford eight in tlie same year," replied Crane, " but apart from this, you will find there is a sort of cliarm in this life which has the same influence upon some of us that is supposed to control the gipsies. It is a dashing nomadic occupation, containing a slight spice of danger, which renders it agreeable to us. I suppose it is another direction of the same spirit as that which leads our friends at home to seek brokon necks, in joining Alpine Clubs, and ascending the Matterhorn."

" In short you are a believer in Kingsley's doctrine of muscular Christianity ?" said Curzon with a smile.

" Partly so, I admit," returned Crane, " but I think the question ill-judged at home. Can you find any sport on a Scottish moor with tho grouse, half so exciting as a chance day's shooting in tho Australian bush ? And you will soon confess that a burst after an ' old-man' kangaroo surpasses the well appointed and orthodox fox-hunt, ' where everything is done, so to speak, by rule and line.' "

"You mentioned that 'curious men were to be found in the colonies.,' " said Qurzon. " I suppose you mean educated men filling comparatively low stations."

Hyen more than tliat," replied Crane, laughing; "Your fine distinction finds no parallel hero witli any otlier country. I have seon tho heir to ten thousand a-year contentedly keeping a flock of sheep up country, with all his aristocratic ideas bent upon the best plan of destroying dingoes. But we are approaching the spot where. X imagine our lost; cattle to be. I suspect those rascally blacks are in the secret of tiieir disappearance. '

"Are they given to stealing?" inquired Curzon.

" Steal!" replied. Crane, " I believe that is tbe only principle they understand. A blackfellow, in a colonist's opinion, ranks about as high as a gorilla does in estimation at hoipe. In fact, two characteristics of the api,sh tribe peculiarly fit them: treachery, and what our refined thieves term 'appropriation.' Still, I must confess they receive hard, measure from some of the settlor. Wot long ago they were shot down dogs, without notice being taken of an( j Ter y recently the widow of a squat ter made a boast of having given a mob them a bag of flour which had been mixed with arsenic, thus destroying th^ m en masse"

"I believe they are gradually becoming extinct P" said Curzon.

""They aro," answered Crane. "In spite of the ' man-and-a-brother' cant which is so popular in certain quarters at home, it is an inevitable fact that the black race invariably diminish and die out before the progress of the whites. Ha!" he broke loff, suddenly, "'tis as I thought, look there," pointing with his finger.

Close to a large gum-tree were scattered heaps of bones, evidently of cattle, while the charred remains of burnt wood proved that cooking upon a large scale had been going on some time previously. " Confound those blackfellows," said Crane, "here is an end to our search ; we must make an example of some of them. We will return to the station a different way," he added to Curzon, " and perhaps get a run after an emu or kangaroo. You had better ride straight in, Philips and Powell, you may be wanted in the branding yard." The nodded, and set off at a gallop.

" Wow," said Crane, " for your introduction to a sketch of Australian scenery. I sent those two fellows off, for in their prosy minds they would have thought us mad had we. expressed aloud the admiration which I always feel when gazing upon the view to which I am leading you." ' Their road lay for some time round the base of a steep hill, intersected with gullies and fallen trees, rendering the appearance of the road rather awkward to a novice. Curzon soon found, however, that he had only to sit still and guide his horse, the animal finding its way instinctively over all obstructions. The bush m this part was rather dense, and their progress startled flocks of brilliant-plumed parroquets and disturbed chattering magpies, which flew away with a saucy scream at the invasion of their domain,

" Now for a short cut up the hill," said Crane, I leading the way,, and a few minutes' riding brought them to the summit I

Curzon surveyed the prospect for some minutes < in silence. Above tkem was a sky, " deeply, darkly, beautifully blue;" around them were scattered, here and there, patches of brilliant 1 green, dotted with houses nestling mostly near ; the banks of the river, which flashed its way > along through groves of orange trees and parterres of flowers of every hue, while iu the background the blue shade of the hills formed a ■ misty frame to th e picture. 1 n various directions ; might be seen cattle, chewing the cud indolently, or driven in vast mobs by the curling lash of the i careering stockmen, bringing to Curzon's mind the patriarchal words, " the cattle upon a thou- ■ sand hills." , " Magnificent!" he at length ejaculated, "ea;v part combined, makes up a perfect whole. A . lover of nature might spend a life of exctasy in this country. It ought to produce some grand poets." "And will, no doubt, in time," replied Crane, " we must remember that it was only within the last century our English lakes produced their ' great lyrists. At present the colonist's most ' useful aim is to tame the wilderness. But tell ' me, can you imagine such a glorious land as i this destined soley for the occupation of such an order of beings as the aborigines?" "I cannot, indeed," returned Curzon; "to entertain such a doctrine, while thousands of intelligent men are wrestling with poverty from the scarcity of land, would be an insult to the Providence who made it." "Yet this is the ground of the arguments used at home by some individuals," said Crane ; " however, come, take a long, last look, for we must return ; and if you wish to see'a finer scene than even this, be stirring to-morrow to gaze upon an Australian sunrisa." On their arrival at Merribee, Crane left Curzon, having to number the cattle which had been branded. The latter found his way to the drawing-room, where Mrs.Meredith and her elder daughter were seated. " Have you enjoyed your ride, Percy ?" inquired the former. " Knjoyment is hardly the word," returned Curzon, "I experienced a combination of delight and amazement. X think the view from the summit of one hill we ascended exceeds anything I ever imagined." "There are many such in the neighbourhood," said Miss Meredith. "We only lack the charming fairy legends to make the country a land of romance." " I hope to have the pleasure of accompanying Mrs. Meredith and yourself to these sylvan spots," he observed, " your presence would have" He was interrupted by Mr. Meredith, who at that moment entered the room, and said to Curzon, " Fowler's men have been over to assist me in branding, and I hear their master is at home. I sent word I would ride over on business to-morrow, and bring a young friend with me. His head man tells me that Fowler talks of selling his run and going to England; if so, I think I will buy it." "What can be his motive for selling ?" asked Mrs. Meredith; "he must be making a large fortune by it, and why give it up?" Meredith looked at Curzon significantly, and replied; "perhaps he considers his fortune sufficiently large, already ; especially as he is a single man. He may intend returning home and becoming a Benedict. However if he is about disposing of the run, he will no doubt make me the offer, and if a reasonable one, I am inclined to accept. Will you take a turn in the air and ' smoke a cigar before dinner P" he asked Curzon, repeating his meaning look. Curzon took the hint, and strolled out with : his host. " I tell you what, Percy," he said, when they were beyond ear-shot, "I am . inclined to think Fowler is the party you want after all. His sudden, resolve to sell his estate, , when last year ho refused most liberal offers, ' leads me to think he has somehow heard of your friend's arrival." " In that case," said Curzon, " the sooner we sec him the better, though from what we know of the matter he may be more inclined to assist us than to act against us. We must, however, exercise caution, and I think perhaps it would be advisable to say nothing to Falkland until we are certain as to the matter. He might return, find himself mistaken, and lose the scent of the • other." " True," Tejoined Meredith, "it is arranged then, that we ride over to-morrow, and I will introduce you as Mr. Peroy. Leave the preliminaries to me; he will have less suspicion of an old colonist than a stranger." Early next morning Curzon and his host ! mounted their horses and rode in the direction of Fowler's run. The sun had not risen long, and there was a bracing coolness in the air which • produced in Curzon an unusual flow of spirits. Meredith remarked this, and said ''It's fortunate I have brought tho dogs," pointing to a brace of : shaggy greyhounds, " you are in hunting spirits ' this morning." "It is strange," replied Curzon. " what an effect tho pure fresh morning air has upon any one unaccustomed to it. I feel equal to taking a six-barred gate with ease." " Our six-barred gates are bristling logs, and yawning gullies," returned Meredith, " quite formidable obstacles as the former, A, ae or two more, and we shall be deep j n t 0 the bush to hope for some sport. your horse in hand until I give the WOrfj_." They rode or\ In "LVience for some time, , "when Curzon saw dogs suddenly rush to a | thick scrub, from which a large dark object j sprang patt him, and bounded off in a succession of Qf.Ormous leaps, followed by the dogs. " Away !" shouted Meredith, giving his horse the spur, " there goes a kangaroo !" On they went, over fallen trees, tearing through the scrub, leaping fissures and clayey brooks, following the dogs, which were close upon the chase. Pressed by them, the kangaroo turned from the bush, and took its flight across a large open flat. "Wow we have him," said Meredith, to Curzon, who had kept by him all the time, "it is only a young one, the dogs will soon pull him down; sit down and ride." Twenty minutes' hard riding brought them on the heels of the dogs, which were leaping at the kangaroo, endeavouring to pull him down. Meredith pulled out a revolver and shot the animal as he rode past. "It was almost a pity to chase one so young," he remarked, as they rode on, " but we make it a law to kill every one we find near our stations and farms, they are so very destructive to the growing crops." " Is it good eating," asked Curzon. " C/iagiin a son gout;" was the answer," I have seen it a favorite dish with some,but could never manage to relish it; though the tail does certainly make capital soup. No doubt it is an acquired taste, like that for olives." At this moment they heard the prolonged " Co-o-e-e" peculiar to inhabitants of the Australian bush. Meredith answered the ciy, and soon after a. horseman rode up to them. " Tb,e very man I was on my road to see," said Meredith, " Percy, let me introduce you to Mr. Fowler." '■ I thought your " Co-o-e-e" came from one of my men," said Fowler, after acknowledging the introduction. " I was looking for some one to carry a letter to you, asking you to come over. However, we can settle tAO. sffwr. up at the station, as you are so, near." " Have you breakfasted t" asi;ed Fowler, as they alighted at tte door of the house, Meredith replied in the affirmative. Here, you Bob, come here," cried Fowler, and a diminutive specimen of humanity shuffled into the room. " Here is the key of the storefroom," he continued, " bring out two bottles of wine, and set about getting dinner ready."

All right, gov'nor," replied the man, leaving the room, shortly returning with bottles and glasses, which ho placed on the table, and withdrew. , I wanted to se© you, AXr. Meredith," said bowler, "respecting the offer which you made to me for the run last year. At that time I was, as you are aware, indisposed to sell, but circumstances connected with my late visit to Melbourne"—Curzon started—"hare rendered my return to England necessary. My proceedings upon reaching home are very uncertain, and I think it better at once to dispose of the run than to leave its management in the hands of an agent, who might possibly prove dishonest. If, therefore, we can come to terms respecting the purchase money, I would sooner make you the first offer than any other person." "I am obliged to you," replied Meredith, with an imperceptible glance at Curzon," I really should be sorry to let this opportunity pass me, although my funds are pretty nearly locked up, as I arranged a mortgage on his estate with a young gentleman whom 1 met in England. Still, as his uncle or some relative possesses large estates in Devonshire, I may be able to call it in." " Devonshire," said Fowler, " what part ? I know something of the county." " I believe it is not far from Exeter; the relative's name is—let me see," —and he paused reflectively—" Colonel Cotton," he added suddenly. Fowler appeared confused, but mastered his embarrassment. " I am not acquainted with the Exeter district," he said. " But I do not require ready money. X have no objection to allowing part to remain on mortgage, with the usual' interest. _ It is not the wish of realising on the estate which induces me to part with it, but private matters which must be attended to. Indeed, one of my motives in sending for you so soon was because I am anxious to leave for' England by the next mail from Sydney." " I have no doubt we can come to amicableterms," replied Meredith, " and as it will be ■ necessary to muster the cattle and inspect the run, I tell you what we will do. It will take us at least three days' hard work to get through the inspection, during which time I will trespass on your hospitality. My friend Percy can return to Merribee to take care of the ladies, and we can join them when we have finished our business,from whence you can proceed to Sydney with me, to sign the necessary documents. Or stay," he added carelessly, apparently as an afterthought, " I must return to give directions to Crane to-night. Percy shall stay here tonight to keep you company, and I will ride over and relieve him in the morning." " Is it absolutely necessary that you return;* to-night P" asked Fowler. " It is," replied Meredith, " my return involves some important business which; I had forgotten." " In that case," said Fowler, " X shall expect to see you at breakfast, and will giveorders to have the cattle mustered." " How many head do you suppose there are, on a rough estimate ?" inquired Meredith. " About four thousand," was the answer; " butI believe the bushrangers and others have been busy with them during my absence." The individual named Bob here announced that dinner was ready. " You must excuse a bachelor's repast," saidFowler to Curzon, " Meredith can tell you thedifference between single and married housekeeping, he has tried both." " I hope, if you return to Australia, to sea you a Paterfamiliassaid Meredith. Fowler shook his head sadly. " X am an incurable old bachelor," he said, " and am afraid that my journey to England -will prove but a melancholy*one. However, make the best dinner you can, gentlemen, and take the will for the deed." After dinner, Meredith made several indirect attempts to draw Fowler into a lengthened conversation, but without success, the latter invariably turning the subject, or relapsing into silence. At length evening approached, and. Meredith rose, saying, " I must get back beforedark, or else I—or rather my horse—may put his foot in it," I may expect you in the morning, then," said Fowler,as his guest was mounting, " be hereas early as possible." "Soon after sunrise," answered Meredith,- " Good-bye." He rode on a few steps, then suddenly paused and said " Percy just tighten this girth, willyou ?" Curzon ran to the side of his horse, and~Meredith said in alow tone. " be careful what you say, but more careful of what he says. X. have planned the opportunity, try to taker advantage of it. That will do," he added aloud, " good night, my boy ; good night, Fowler," and he rode off at a brisk pace. About a mile from Merribee, he encountered a singular looking figure. With the caution habitual in the bush, Meredith'? nand was in an instant upon his revolver, 'he checked himself with a smile as he drew* nearer to the subject of his suspicion, It a man dressed in a suit of black, with. cravat, and coloured spectacles, carrying 'in his hand a small valise. I " One of the Aborigines Protection Society let loose, I expect," he muttered. The stranger stopped. " Good evenings friend," he said. " Same to you," replied Meredith, gruffly. He had no liking for the class to which heimagined the strangei belonged. "Will you inform me the nearest road to the' next station P" said the latter. " The next station is mine," said Meredith,. " but if you mean the one ahead, Fowler's, keep straight in this track. You must walk sharp if you want any supper there to-night." " Thank youreplied the man, and he went on the road directed. " That fellow can step it out, at any rate," said Meredith, watching the rapid strides which the stranger took, "the Flying Pieman that they think so much of in Sydney, had better look to his laurels, or this hedge-parson will Erove his match. I suppose he is after contriutions, as is usually the case." " Oh! papa '"exclaimed his younger daughter as he entered the parlor, " there has been sucha funny-looking man in the hall, dressed like our clergyman, but with such curious spectacles."' " Has that fellow called here P" asked Meredith; of his wife, " I met him on the road. Heappeared to me to be a humbug." "I did not see him," said Mrs. Meredith, "Louisa opened the door and peeped at him; but Crane was in the hall and answered him." " What did he want P" asked her husband. " The road to the next station," replied his wife. " Crane thought he was a clergyman, and offered him abed in his hut, but the man refused, saying he had business further on. But where is Percy ?" '■ I left him behind to keep Fowler company,' said Meredith, mischievously. " Wel|! X did not think Fowler's company would have been a paramount attraction to him, said his wife, a little piqued. Miss Meredith made no remark, but her looks unmistakeably endorsed her mother s opinion. " Pooh!" said Meredith laughing, " It's blow hot, blow cold, wiA jou. women. Now I warrant that if I had said the veriest trifle in his disparagement you would have both attacked me." " I made no remark," said Miss Meredith, ' " Mr. Percy has a perfect right to do as he ; pleases." "So long as it pleases you," retorted ner father, with a laugh. " I see I must clear away the clouds on your brows. The fact is I am going to buy Fowler's run, and I left Percy behind toattend to some matters which I had no time todo. He seemed unwilling, but acknowledged the necessity of doing so. I trust your indignant * majesties are now satisfied P if not the knight will plead his cause in person to-morrow-

Miss Meredith bore lier father's baiulinage ■with~great' good, humourf aifd after" passihgan evening in Jneir.tbu&vT»cap'kfcj»T»>:'; th eya:rdtired to rest. • ' -•k-rr -:s?7-r: •.-.■-non- ' The next morning-, Meredith'; Kas astir shortly sifter sunrise. He partook of«a liasty breakfast and was about to mount liis hor?f when lie heard the hoof-stroke of a horse apprv ■ -ling at a mad gallop, .i . . ". ■ ■ ■ "Who comas hero/': he said, " some one evidently iii-a hurry, or on a runaway horse." One of Fowler's men turned a bend in the scrub and rode rapidly up to Meredith. ; " For you, sir," ho said, placing a note in the squatter's hands. Meredith opened it and read " Hurry over at once; your, friend "was shot by some bushranging scoundrel this morning, and has remained insensible. I hare sent express to Toroomba for Dr. Singleton, and have employed the best remedie3 I could think ot' in the interval." " There is some rillany here," said Meredith to himself as lie-urged his horse to a rapid pace, " this may be Fowler's worn:." His suspicion, however, was unjust. The matter occured in this wise. After Meredith's departure, Curzon had endeavoured to converse with Fowler, but the latter appeared pre-occupied and absent ; resisting all his guest s efforts. True, his manner did not approach rudeness, but his answers were mostly monosyllabic, and it is probable that had not Curzon possessed so powerful a motive for perseverance, he would long before have given over in despair. Afraid to risk discovery by too direct a question, lie resolved to consult Meredith before proceeding further, and pleading fatigue, expressed a ■wish to retire to rest. ".Here, Bob," his host called out, " shew this gentleman to my room, I have some writing to ao, and shall probably not turn in to-night." " I will not deprive you of your room," said Curzon. " I intend to have a shake-down here," said Fowler, " I don t feel at all inclined for sleep." Curzon threw himself upon the bed, and his eyes remained obstinately open. The anxious ideas pressing on his mind caused his brain to whirl in a chaotic round; so he rose and threw open the window, seating himself before it to enjoy the balmy night air. The cool play of the breeze upon his temples soothed his burning head, his head sank upon | his arms, and he fell into a sleep. When he awoke, it was a few minutes before the sun rose above the horizon. The silence of I night suddenly gave place to the) shrill notes of the cicadas and the chattering of the magpies and " settler's clocks," while the more familiar noise of the domestic chanticleer ushered in "the morning. Curzon ' was watching the first faint streak of light shed over the eastern hills, when he noticed a lurking figure in black. The light was too imperfect to distinguish the features, but suspecting the person, whoever it was, to be after no good, he watched for the momentarily increasing light to assist him. The figure seemed to gaze intently at his room, though Curzon, shrouded by a curtain, was not perceived. Suddenly the stranger removed a pair of glasses from his face in his anxiety to see clearly, and at that moment the beams of the rising sun shot full upon his face, revealing his features with startling distinctness. Curzon precipitated himself from the window. " Help !" he shouted. " .Edmonds ! Villain, stay." The startled stranger gave a hasty glance at him, drew a revolver, and fired, then seeing his victim fall, disappeared in the bush. " I didn't see his face, but it must have been Fowler, by his knowing my name," he muttered. "He's out of the way, and now for a speedy escape."