REMINISCENCES IN THE LIFE OF A COLONIAL JOURNALIST. NO. IX.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XI, Issue 3994, 31 August 1874, Page 3

REMINISCENCES IN THE LIFE OF A COLONIAL JOURNALIST. NO. IX.

[By "Snyder."] THE SQUATTER?. I never witnessed but two cases of Lynch law, aud tlie first of these would have served me for a long life time. It will never be blotted from my memory. A more awful sight, with more terrible surroundings, I t'-ink could scarcely be witnessed. 1 am now speaking of a date which preceded th ' discovery of the Victorian goldfields by son .■ seven years. It was towards the close of the summer of 1544, at which time I was formally keeping possession of a largo tract of new country discovered by the late John Pascoe Fawkner. His intention was to make a sheep run of it, and in order to retain legal possession according to the squatting laws then in force, it required to be stocked with either sheep, horses, or cattle. How few or how many, the regulations made no mention. Mr. Fawkner stocked something like forty miles of a run, fifteen of which was rich grass landwith four working bullocks, until he was enabled to get the boundaries of his run duly defined and registered. This piece of country I was in possession of was in a large glen, far down in the depths north of the Mount Macedon ranges, and formed a portion of the much dreaded Black Forest, where so many bloody murders were between ISSI and '53 perpetrated upon diggers, and before which so many good bushmen perished by losing their way in the intricacies of a densely timbered country but little explored. The bleached bones, forming the skeletons of men, denuded of flesh by wild dogs, were discovered from time to time as the forest became more traversed and small holdings sprang into existence. The Macedon ranges formed a portion of this country, —a wild, broken, inhospitable, district, timbered with numbers of huge trees of stringy bark and white gum, towering to a height of from one hundred and fifty to two hundred feet, while the foliage of one tree had so entangled and interwoven itself with another that in the brightest sunshine all was a settled gloom. The ground, even in the height of a Victorian summer, was wet and sloppy ; but there was good feed lor sheep nevertheless, and that was then, as now, the squatter's delight. While, after a long hot season, the grass on the open lands would be parched up and so bleached that at a distance the plains dazzled the sight, pained the eye, and occasionally caused temporary blindness, the low country running towards the thicklytimbered ranges always retained as much moisture as nourished a ricli undergrowth of grass. Here it was that, under the shelter of a gunyah, I dwelt for several weeks ill the society of four working bullocks, which I had to hunt up every morning and night and bring to the camping ground. My gunyali was the very simplicity of construction. There were two forked saplings, some eight feet high, the ends of which were rammed into the ground ten feet apart. This done, a ridge-pole was cut and made to rest on the forks, and over this was thrown a tarpaulin ■tretchedout to resemble the top of a Noah's ark and then pegged down to the ground on either side. The spare folds were gathered in at the rear, and secured at the bottom by a heavy log of timber. The front was left open for entrance and exit. So much done, sheets of bark were stripped from the adjoining trees, and these were made to overlap each other on the ontside. A ridge of bark above all, and fastened down with thongs cut from a bullock hide, made a bachelor's residence complete. What was deficient in space was compensated for by snugness. My personal effects consisted of two blue serge shirts, one pair of moleskin trousers, the same of high-low water-tights, two blankets, an opossum-skin rug, and half a-dozen dried sheepskins. What more could a reasonable man desire, when to this I add that I was provisioned for a three-months' occupancy. My stores consisted of a sack of flour, a barrel of salted beef and mutton, some tea, sugar, salt, a supply of twist tobacco, a kettle, two tin pannikins, a three-legged iron pot, a frying pan, and an income of a pound a week for doing nothing except attend upon myself and see that four working bullocks attended on themselves. A man must be of an ambitious turn of j mind indeed who could have wished for anything more than this to make a start in liie with. If I felt the want of society, there was solacc in the pipe. If I sufi'ered from ennui, I had but to occupy myself with the manufacture of a damper, the boiling of a piece of beef, or the preparation of a kettle of tea. For a fire, I had only to yoke up two of the bullocks, which would draw me as much dead timber in an hour as would last me a week. For water, I had merely to scoop a hole in the ground at the side of my bunk, and it would gush up in a pure crystal stream. At night, I would be lulled to sleep by the howlmge of packs of wild dingoes who * All rightt reatrved.

were out in search of sheep, but always riving the preference to lambs. These dingoes never ceased their search for prey throughout the night, nor their howling until daybreak. I must confess to a feeling of nervousness when I was compelled to listen to the sniffing of the varmints as they sneaked stealthily round my gunyah, drawn near by the smell of the beef barrel, or the iron-pot, which served as a patent dishcover, by simply turning it bottom up, to preserve the meat saved from one day to the other. I don't pretend to speak for every one, because there are such varieties of tastes in the wor , but I know that a bush life in a fine climate, and a large and only partially occupied country, has its; special charms. There is no necessity for taking thought of to-morrow. There are no bills falling due to meet, and it wouldn't be of much consequence if there were ; for one couldn't meet them, and the thought of a bailiff would give no uneasiness whatever. I knew of an official in the Melbourne Customs Department who, suffering long from ill health, under the reeommendation of medical certificate obtained six months' leave of absence from his duties that the mght obtain change of air. He didn't take ship or steamer to another colony, and he didn't go meandering about the country spending the six mouths' salary allowed him, but he went on to a station, dressed as a bushman, aud engaged himself as a hut-keeper, with £15 wages for the half-year, including rations and hut-accommodation. His whole duty consisted 111 cooking for two shepherd*, shifting a couple of sets of hurdles, anil attending to his own wants. At the end of his time, he went to the home station, drew his money, and returned to Melbourne fourteen stone twelve pounds, having left it at eleven stone eight. He was in the best of health and the highest of spirits. Men who have been long accustomed to bush life may be likened to sailors —always longing for a change, but when the change has come always hankering to return to their old ways again. In the days I now refer to, many men then engaged as shepherds afterwards became among the wealthiest of squatters and landholders. Their sons at this day are the lords of large estates, and their daughters the wives of merchant princes. These men, for the greater number, had emigrated from Scotland, where they had been engaged as herds aud hinds and in the tending of sheep upon the large properties of lords, earls, aud dukes. They were thrifty men ; men of some education ; men ever watchful and careful of the interests they had been entrusted with ; men with wives, prudent, honest, and thrifty as themselves ; men with children reared in the love and fear of their Maker ; men who were 110 eye servers, but would tend a lambing or a shearing season as if the sheep and lambs were their own property, instead of that of their employers. They bargained less for wages than for being allowed a small share of the increase of the tlocks, which with good and thinking employers was allowed them. Presently these men would become t'.ie owners of a hundred or two of ewes, with a few rams. Then their little flock would in time increase to five hundred, and so on to a thousand. Following 011 this, they would travel in search of a bit of unoccupied country, which they would take up under the then existing squatting regulations, and after years of pAtient waiting and steady industry would come to rank among the wealthy squatocracy of the day. They were returned members of colonial Parliamencs, and became men of great mark, noted for their shrewdness, their great good common sense, and for resisting all invasions upon their squatting rights. Lik« most men who have risen from the bottom of the ladder to the topmost rung, they were selfish. They would not part with an acre of sheep-run to allow the tiller of the soil to cultivate it. For many a long year the squatter had his own way, but public opinion and the public will at last, as it always does, prevailed, and the sheep farmer holding acres of line soil by the tens of thousands, upon a mere nominal annual rental, had to give p'aee to the agriculturist. The squatter in Victoria, if he now desires to hold his land, must buy it in fee-simple, in competition with others who may desire a share of it. The influence of the squatocracy is fast becoming a power and au abuse of the past. How shrewd, clever men, possessing j neither education nor money, became possessed of large estates in tho.se days I will relate an instance. It is only one of several which have come under my notice. The man 1 refer to, and with whom I had been personally acquainted some years, landed in Hobart Town in 1544 from a whaling ship. His "lay" amounted to something under £40. With this he worked his way to Port Phillip (Victoria) where he engaged himself as shepherd to a squatter in the Western district of Geelong. Here he served two years, and by hard saving added £G0 to the £10 already in his possession This man could just read, and do 110 more than sign his name. "With a hundred pounds he started a small bakery in Geelong, and it was here he shewed the powers of turning an honest-earned pence into a pound sterling. He did not solicit the custom of householders or of tradesmen, excepting only to a very small extent. But lie went to a colony of brickmakers, located on the banks of the river Barwon in the suburbs of the town. These men and their families ha supplied with bread, tea, sugar, and, 1 think, grog, taking no money, but bargaining to receive payment in bricks. For every sixteen shillings they were debited with he received a thousand of bricks, and these he disposed of to builders at twentyfive shillings for every thousand delivered. Afterwards he transacted the same kind of business with bush sawyers. He supplied them with bread, meat, and rum, taking payment out in timber, which he again sold at a good profit to the keepers of timber yards. But he never sold the whole of his bricks, nor the whale of his timber, but, with great forethought, accumulated kiln upon kiln of the former, aud stack upou stack of the latter. He had stored away numerous stacks of bricks, and over one hundred thousand running feet of sawn timber. In 1351 bricks had risen from llis a thousand to £5, ami. sawn timber from 12s per hundred running feet to £3 10s. In 1852 —towards the end of it—bricks had risen to be worth £15 per thousand, aud sawn timber, 9d per supev fieial foot. Then the shrewd old whaler sold out, aud without any one knowing or even imagining it, accumulated close upou £15,000. He always, in his business, appeared in au ordinary bushman's dress— drank nothing stronger than tea, and fared hard every day of his life. But for years he had had an object in view, aud this was to become possessor of the station on which he had been engaged as a shepherd. After the shearing, the owner came to town to draw against his wool with his banker, settle with his merchant, and lay in stores. Then it was the old whaler called at the hotel lie was staying at, when something as follows passed : — Mr. Hoyle -. "I suppose you have hold of the same statiun that I was shepherding over for the matter of more than two year "Yes, I have the same station; but I suppose you are above engaging as a shepherd now. You have gone into buying brieks, I am told. Isn't it rather a risky business, Charley'! Wouldn't it be better to accept wages than go into a line of trade you don't understand ?" " Well, perhaps you are right, Mr. Hoyle ; but what I come to ask is whether it wouldn't be wiser for you to sell your station and go home to your friends'! I think I know a buyer for it, if the buyer is allowed to know your price for it." | " Well, Charley," said Mr. Hoyle, "everything in this world has its price, aud my price is a pound a-head for my sheep, the station and fixings thrown in." " And how many head of sheep may you have, Mr. Hoyle ?" " Closs upon twenty thousand." "Which means, Mr. Hoyle," says the old whaler, ' 'twenty thousand pounds all told, or there nigh about. Now, Mr. Hoyle, what are your termß ? How much cash do you want, and how much credit will you give for the balance "The terms will be half cash, and the other remaining over for five years at eight

per cent, with a lien upon sheep and preemptive right. Who is the customer yon know of as likely to mean business f " Why," said the old whaler, "if you will come over to your lawyer I will shew him to you, and, so fax as I can see, there won't be much difficulty in the business being settled, if it's business yon mean, aDd at the same time mean doing the business right off." The shepherd and his old employer went at once ra company. "Now," said Charley, " we have got witnesses to the transaction; you want a pound a-head for your sheep •with station, bullock-drays, cattle, and the like thrown in, don't you ? Your terms are half cash, and the balance on security of sheep and property payable in fire years, at eight per cent, interest—isn't that it ? You say yes. Well, what I say is, that lam the buyer, Mr. Hoyle. This here gentleman, the lawyer, knows my money's ready when everything is drawn up fair, square, and straightforward, signed, sealed, and delivered, and possession of the station is handed over to me, everything being regular. In a fortnight the old whaler was in charge of his station, one of the very finest throughout the Wardy Yalloch district. In two years, instead of five as allowed, the balance of the purchase money was paid off. In seven years the old whaler had sold out for ninety thousand pounds, when he went home ani drank himself to death in six months, leaving a ■wife and family to inherit his property. The wife married again, and the second husband gambled his share away. The children grew up into manhood and womanhood, but how it came to pass I do not know, but none of them have benefited in the least by the large sums left them by the shrewd old sheep-farmer, ex-wlialer, and ex-convict.