THE SELECTOR THE SELECTOR A ROMANCE OF AN IMMIGRANT BY JAMES GREEN AUTHOR OF "THE STORY OF THE BUSHMEN" With twelve full-page illustrations by A. J. Fischer SYDNEY N.S.W. BOOKSTALL CO. 1907 Copyright, A. C. RowLANDSON, "Montana," Harbour Street, Mosman. WeHsdale, Slioosmith & Co. , Printers, 117 Clarence Street, Sydney. FOREWORD. THIS story is an effort to portray the life of the settlers in the North and North- Western wheat dis- tricts. It does not aim at either exact portraiture or exact geography. It presents, however, some types and some impres- sions which may help readers to understand and appreciate the pioneering settlement now going on in the interior of the mother State. The author dedi- cates this book TO THE PIONEERS OF THE NORTH-WEST, in the hope that it may lead the " old hands" to give a hearty and sympathetic welcome to immigrants from the Old Land or from the other States. THE AUTHOR . ILLUSTRATIONS V O PAOK SEE THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN- THESE TWO SWAGGIES " 12 HE SUCCBEDED IN CUTTING THE TROUBLESOME WASHER OUT 25 THE NEW CHUM WAS NO AMATEUR .... 3g "Loon AT 'IM. ISN'T HE A BEAUTY?" oo YATES STARED ALONG His GUN, WITH His LIPS DROPPING 83 " WE WANT THE SOCIALISM OF THE SQUARE DKAL" - . 103 THE CONCERTINA RESPONDED TO THK MAGIC TOUCH - - 141 HE WAS HURLED WITH CRUEL FORCE OVER LUCKT'S HKAD 178 LUCKY REACHED OVER AND SEIZED THE REINS - . .199 " I AM SORRY, DEAR," SAID WOOLHAM - . . 2 J3 BRUTUS CAME BOLDLY Now - ^i'_O THEY HAULED IN THE SEVERED CABLE - - - - 236 CONTENTS CHAPTER pAQK FOREWORD 5 I. THE SWAGMAN UP TO DATE ... 9 II. HOW TO SETTLE PEOPLE ON THE LAND 14 III. -OUR IMMIGRANT PLUNGES - - - 19 IV. -THE ROMANCE BEGINS 21 V.--SOME SQUATTERS AND SOME SELECTORS 26 VI. THE TAMING OF VIXEN - - - - 30 VII. -A BOLT FROM THE BLUE - - - - 41 VIII. A GOOD SAMARITAN - - - - 46 IX. LUCKY FRIDAY 50 X. THE STORY OF LUCKY FRIDAY - - - 54 XL BEARDING THE LION IN HIS DEN - - 61 XII. -THE INVASION 67 XIII. LUCKY'S FORTUNE 70 XIV. YATES LOSES CASTE 76 XV. -A FIGHT TO THE DEATH 85 XVI. THE BUILDING OF THE WHITE HOUSE 92 XVII. -SOCIALISM AT GUM FLAT .... 96 XVIII. COLOURS OF GOLD 105 XIX. ON THE TRACK OF FORTUNE - - - 110 XX. GOLDEN GULLY 115 8 CONTENTS CHAPTEB PAGE XXI. THE LETTER 12 2 XXII. -THE CONSPIRACY 131 XXIII. -"A SOWER WENT FORTH TO SOW" - - 137 XXIV. THE AMBUSCADE 149 XXV. THE RIVAL PEGS 162 XXVI.-" LAST RESOURCE" GOES ON A FORLORN HOPE - - - - 169 XXVII. A LESSON IN TACTICS 174 XXVIII. -THE GOLD CAP 184 XXIX. THE OYSTER AND THE PEARL - - - 188 XXX. -A RIDE TO VICTORY .... 194 XXXI. -A WALLABY DRIVE AND WHAT CAME OF IT 20 o XXXII. -THE KNIGHT ERRANT 210 XXXIII. -AUNT PEGGY HAS A DREAM - - - 217 XXXIV. -HOW BRUTUS LED THE WAY - - - -_>^> XXXV. "MANY WATERS CANNOT QUENCH LOVE" - - 228 XXXVI. -THE FOUNDING OF STUARTVILLE - 238 CHAPTER I. THE SWAGMAX UP TO DATE. A LL bush townships in the north-west of Xew South ^~^ Wales are very much alike, and in October the weather is day by day alike hot, but if there was any difference on October 14th, 19 , in Munilla, it was that it was much hotter than usual. The air simply vibrated with heat, the roads were clouded with dust, and the people of Munilla, at any rate the male por- tion, oppressed with thirst, loafed around the hotel verandahs and there was an hotel in Munilla at nearly every street corner. Under such circumstances, a new arrival evoked much speculation he might represent free drinks. Just then a solitary cyclist appeared coming down the Tamworth Road. "Pretty hot day for cycling," said McSwayne, the rotund proprietor of "The Royal," to Brooks the postmaster. "My word!" said Brooks. "And a swagman too; first time I ever saw a swaggie work as hard as that." "Oh, he is a swagman up to date," said McSwayne. The hotelkeeper was right. This was a new sort of swagman approaching them. To begin with, he wore a tweed suit light in colour and weight, instead of the proverbial moleskins, and, instead of the usual slouch SA 9 10 hat, a well-browned panama covered his head. But he was a swagman for all that, for there was his swag on the bike twisted horse-shoe shape around the top-bar of the frame and fastened to each end of the fork of the machine. The billy-can and tucker-bag were fas- tened behind the saddle, and the triangular hold-all swung within the frame was well filled with other per- sonal necessaries. As the cyclist drew up to the verandah of the hotel, McSwayne said to Brooks : "Looks better than the old style, anyhow." There sitting on the verandah was atypical sundowner lean- ing on his swag. His bare, hairy arms and chest had for a background a dirty flannel. His moleskin trousers were tied below the knees with boyangs of string, ami his blucher boots, full of holes and almost solclcss, weiv fastened up with the same material. His slouch hat was held around the head with a broad leather strap, his unkempt beard straggled with the hot wind, while a panting sheep dog lay at his feet. He looked thirsty, although he had been drinking all the morning, mostly at other people's expense. ' ' That old buffer was round at the house this morn- ing asking for something to eat, and the missus told him to chop some wood and she would give him break- fast, and what do you think he did?" said Brooks. "He made a heap of wood with unchopped logs in the middle, and then he called out the old woman to see it, and persuaded her that he had chopped so much that she ought to give him a shilling. The wife was quite pleased. THE SWAGMAN UP TO DATE 11 " 'Why, you have cut up a lot,' she said. " 'Yes,' said the old fraud, 'I'm pretty good with the axe.' It was afterwards that she found out the trick, aud now she says that I'll have to chop the wood. ' ' "You see the difference between these two swaggies," said the publican. "The one with the bike wants work, and he'll get it ; the other, while asking for work, prays that he won't get it. He lives on the game. He's like old O'Neill, who comes round on the cadge about every month. He asked George Bowman, of Glen Airlie Station, to give him some tucker and let him stay in a hut. ' All right, ' said Bowman. 'Tain 't tea-time yet; come and help me mend up this broken fence. A bit of work will give you an appetite.' "But O'Neill put on an offended look, and said : " 'Thank Gawd, I ain't got as low as that yet!' ' "But did you ever hear the latest about that same O'Neill?" said the postmaster. "You know he is a good Catholic, and he works it for all it's worth. Out at Borah Crossing a few Sun- days back they were opening the new Union Church. It was a great day, for they had the new parson, Mr. Donald, there too for the first time. "O'Neill, happening to be out, thought he'd struck one of his own churches, when he looked through the open doors and saw all the new decorations. "What an object the old fellow looked that day, to be sure ! He had a bit of mosquito net for a fly-veil, with bits of cork tied round the edges of it. An old battered helmet covered his head, and he was as dirty as only he can be. Well, that day I drove the parson 12 THE SELECTOE "YOU SEE THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THESE TWO SWAOOIES." [Page 11. THE SWAGMAN UP TO DATE 13 out myself. You know Mr. Donald is clean-shaven, like a priest; this strengthened O'Neill's ideas and hopes. He came up as the parson was getting out of the buggy, and, with a good deal of bowing and scrap- ing, yanked a little dirty bag from his pocket, out of which he drew some dirty yellow beads. Would his reverence bless the beads? He counted on a blessing for himself, too, of a more substantial kind. "Mr. Donald did not quite take him at first. He looked at the man and the dirty beads in disgust. Then he said, 'Why, they want washing, my man!' Then, catching the meaning of the old man's request, he said, 'You are labouring under a mistake. I am a Protes- tant clergyman.' ' McSwayne, who is a Roman himself, fully appre- ciated the joke, and when Brooks rose to go over to the office, he was still shaking with laughter. From which it may be inferred that in Munilla (as, happily, in most country towns) the religious clans manage to live in peace and amity. CHAPTER II. HOW TO SETTLE PEOPLE ON THE LAND. THE little Court-house of Munilla was electric with excitement. The great day had arrived. You could easily see that at the hotels. The stable yards were full of horses. Horses were tied up to the fences and tree-guards. Some of the poor brutes were tied up in the sun around the Court-house. Probably they had been run in out of tbe paddocks that morning, and, unfed and ungroomed, ridden or driven into town to stand a day in the blazing sun. At night they will be whipped or spurred home, sad- dles or harness pulled off their hot and sweltering backs, and turned loose again. This is the way the florse-tralian loves his noble steed. Meanwhile the owners of the said horses were expanding visibly under the influence of libations offered up at the altar of friendship. Some of them were indeed friends that day. For instance, was not Browne of "Minaba" going to swear that Edwardes of "Ravenshill" had not enough land to bring up his large family on, and therefore his hold- ing should be made up by three hundred acres out of "Reapit"? And had not McCurdy come prepared to take oath that in all the broad acres of Castlehow, who owned "North Park," there were not more than a HOW TO SETTLE PEOPLE ON THE LAND 15 hundred acres of arable land? How could Castlehow bring up his large family unless he, too, got his land made up out of "Reapit"? That everybody knew that not only Edwardes "Ravenshill," but his sons also, were already practic- ally independent, and that Castlehow -had at least four hundred acres arable and over a thousand sheep, not to speak of horses and cattle, on his excellent property, was merely incidental. At such a time as a land ballot the truth finds difficulty in coming to the front. Why was McOurdy going to take the oath for Gastlehow? Well, shouldn't we do as we have been done by? -And tell me this, Brady," said McCurdy to his son-in-law the night before the ballot. "Didn't Castle- how stick to me when I was in for the last bit of 'additional' from Thunderbolt's Mountain? he, I say, stand up like a man and swear for me through fire and water?" "Fiery water, I tell ye!" rejoined the son-in-law. "He drank enough at that time to irrigate all the 'ad- ditional' ye got." "Yes, indeed," said the elder man softly; "but was worth it it was worth it." "Sorry I am, in a way, sorry I am that my own extint is made up. It's meself that would like to be in it to-morrow." And the old warrior sniffed the air like the war-horse impatient for the battle. The old "bush-lawyer" had got all that he was entitled to under the Act made up to him. All his sons had their full extent, and this at the expense of their more honest neighbours and by dint of hard swearing. 18 THE SELECTOR There was not enough available land in the Munilla district to give everybody their full "possible," and it was a notorious fact that certain families, who seemed to understand the way to get land from Govern- ment, were well able to purchase privately. But there was one consolation for McCurdy : if he was out of the game for himself, he could swear for some of the others, and to-day he was in the Court-house to do it. And after all there was a little taint of self-interest in his perjury; for Castlehow's place was divided only by a fence from his daughter's selection, and Castle- how knew how the worthy spinster fulfilled the resi- dential clauses of the Act. There is a nice garden at the selection hut. Now, is not that a proof of resi- dence ? Castlehow knows all about that garden ! But who takes the land laws of New South Wales seriously? From the various Ministers of Lands, down to the members of Parliament and the graziers and farmers themselves, do they not all regard the various land laws as avenues through which to drive the proverbial carriage and pair? Are not these same laws adminis- tered in a way which makes it easy to do wrong and hard to do right? But there was one man in the Land Court that day who did take the land laws of New South Wales seri- ously. It was our friend the swagman up to date, otherwise Edward Woolham. He had come to Munilla on pur- pose to try to get a selection out of the "Reapit Ex- change.' The opening-up of this property was a well-heralded and much-trumpeted part of the policy of the New South Wales Government to open up big HOW TO SETTLE PEOPLE OX THE LAND 17 estates on the outskirts of country townships to selec- tion. Fortunately this was an exchange and not a resumption, so it would not cost the Government any purchase money. The Dalgety Syndicate wished to exchange "Reapit" for an equal extent of land to be added to their Til- mimdra Estate. This would suit the syndicate better, enabling them to concentrate their interests, and the Government re- cognised that "Reapit" would be a valuable addition to the ''hinterland" of the prosperous little town of Munilla. "We shall settle one hundred and twenty new families on this land, ' ' said the Minister in the House. The local Land Board, after consideration, reported that sixty-six new families could be settled on the estate. As a matter of fact, only twenty-one new settlers were put upon the land. Of how this was managed we have already received some hint. Skilfully piloted by unscrupulous land-agents, some of whom were members of Parliament, the neighbour- ing selectors applied for additional land to their already sufficient holdings. Xo one was more surprised than Edward Woolham at the severe cross-examination he was put through by the three members of the Land Board. In answer to questions, he said that he had been attracted to New South Wales by the advertisements issued from the Agent-General's office in London. He paid his own passage out, and had a little ex- 18 THE SELECTOE perience in farming, as his people at home were on the land. He had worked in the South Coast district and on a North Coast dairy farm, but he wanted to go in for mixed farming, wheat and sheep. He understood that this was the proper district to come to for that. Yes, he had enough capital to start. He had 200 to his credit at the local bank, as his book produced would show, and could if necessary he hoped it would not be get more from the old country. After consultation, the members of the Board, for a reason not given, informed him that he could not go to the ballot. They would advise him to find other land and make application. He was stunned. Why had this land been adver- tised so much, if such as he could not go to the ballot 1 CHAPTER III. OUR IMMIGRANT PLUNGES. GO on the land, young man, go on the land ! 'that is the text they are all preaching from now, isn't it? You get it .at every political banquet; you get it from the newspapers, from the pulpit ; everybody dins it into your ears 'Go on the land, young man!' The speaker was a comical-looking individual with a big Roman nose and a long grey beard. He was looking down at Woolham with a merry twinkle in his eye, as the disappointed new-chum stretched himself out under a pepper tree in the Court- house grounds. "It's no joke for me," said the young man. have been seeking land for a year. I have just earned enough to live on, and I have been all over this State, and it does not seem that I can get in anywhere. Why do they advertise the State so much and induce people to come here, if they are not going to make it easy for them to settle when they do come out?" "Do you see that crowd of perspiring and profane humanity there, and do you understand the meaning of that excitement?" said the land agent. "It means that they are giving gold mines away, and don't you forgit it! "This is a good country, make no mistake, but it's 19 20 THE SELECTOR badly run; too much government, of a sort, too many members of Parliament, flTTnough I did try to become one myself once. "Every one of the men who gets land to-day is set up for life. In ten years they should be made men. You can 't beat wool and wheat ; they are our true golden harvest, young man, and don't you forgit it! My advice to you still is, 'Go on the land, young man!' " "And so I will," said Woolham. There was a hard look in the light-blue eyes and a firm pressure about the lips that the old land agent evidently liked, as the young man said : " I '11 not be beaten, even if I have to camp on a stony ridge or sink in a swamp. "Look here, Mr. Scarsdale; there is the map of the district that I got at your precious Lands Office in Sydney. Do you know any available land here other than 'Reap it'? "What of this nine hundred acres, parish of Rin- gari, within John Stuart's lease?" The land agent looked at the place pointed out, and then broke into a loud laugh. "Crikey, that's a good joke!" he said. "It ain't much good, you bet; it's rough, hilly country, but, Lor', it's right in the middle of old Graball's property. He'd give you a hot time if you got there." "I'll apply for that," said Wool ha in. risin.r. "I don't care if it is as stony as a quarry, or timbered like a jungle. I intend to get in somewhere. *' And the young immigrant made arrangements with Mr. Scarsdale for the application there and then. CHAPTER IV. THE ROMANCE BEGINS. A HEAVY dew lay on the grass, and the tiny ^~* gossamer webs of hundreds of spiders sparkled in the sunshine as if sprinkled with diamonds. The river wound in and out among the hills, and on its gently-sloping banks were to be seen scores of contented and well-conditioned cattle. The mellow notes of the piping crow could be heard in the distance, and the shrill call of the mud-lark blended with the cries of the sparrow-hawk. Now the deep hum of the cicadas joined the chorus f the bush and, with the screech of the many-hued parrots, mingled into one morning hymn of praise such as can be heard only in the sunny lands of the Southern .Cross. Altogether it was such a morning and such a scene as to stir one's pulses and to make the heart go out in praise to the Creator. The girls were in high spirits as they drove down the bush track which leads through Rangari to the Munilla Road. Bessie, the younger sister, was driving the sturdy chestnuts, which had already become quiet under her careful management. These two Australian girls were worth a second look. 21 o 22 THE SELECTOR May Stuart was tall, with abundant dark hair. She was considered a beauty in the district, but perhaps her beauty verged too much to the large type. With a rather florid complexion, a voice rich, but not low and sweet, and a manner rather imperious, she im- pressed one as a fine, dashing, masterful girl. Bessie, however, was the favourite with those who knew the two sisters. Not quite so tall and grand as her sister, she had a gentler and quieter way and a sweet, sympathetic voice. She was beautiful as her sister was handsome, and there was a firmness about the slender and graceful figure which suggested power, as did the expression which dwelt upon the mobile face. Her clear, grey eyes looked out from under long brown lashes, and her smile was like the summer dawn. But a squeaky wheel and a hot axle will spoil any landscape. Soon the girls discovered that they would have to stop. One of the axles was quite hot. "How annoying!" said May. "And Arthur Yates said that he had greased the Avheels. " "He did I saw him," said Bessie. "I suppose it is a tight washer which is causing the bother." It was an awkward situation. It was equally im- possible to go on or to turn back. Just then they heard the sound of hoofs pounding on the turf, and much to their relief a horseman appeared coming round the hill. "Thank goodness!" said May. "It's the new-chum boundary-rider." THE ROMANCE BEGINS "Good morning, Mr Woolham," said Bessie. "You have just come in time to help us out of a difficulty. ' The prefix "Mr." was a little unusual, though it is much commoner in Australia than in the old country, but it serves to show the position occupied by Woolham on the Rangari Station. He was hardly a "jackeroo" that is, a young man of means living as a guest, to ge experience of sheep-farming before setting up for himself as a grazier 'and yet he was more than an ordinary boundary-rider on wages. He had obtained work on the station through the introduction of our old friend McSwayne, who chris- tened him the "up-to-date swagman." He was avowedly there to get colonial experience, prior to starting independently some day, and yet his previous experience had enabled him to demand at any rate a living wage. The Stuarts recognised that he was an educated man who had probably been brought up as a gentleman, and they were inclined to treat him with a respect not accorded to the usual sort of employee. As for Woolham, it is to be feared that the pleasure and interest he found in his new work had caused him almost to forget his vocation as a settler, and the fact that his people looked to him as the pioneer who had gone out to the new land to prepare the way for his younger brothers to follow. The two sisters were really interested in Woolham, for there was an air of mystery about him and his past which savoured of romance, and, besides, he had an attractive personality, and where is the young woman who is not interested in a well-set-up and muscular young man who happens 24 THE SELECTOR to have the frame of an athlete and the manners of a gentleman ? "The axle-box has become hot, and we can't go on. I think it is a tight washer on that wheel, ' ' said Bessie. Very soon the young man, with the help of the girls, for bush girls usually know how to manipulate harness, had the horses out of the pole. Drawing the wheel off the axle, which he had propped up with a log, he succeeded in cutting the troublesome washer out, and soon it was seen that the wheel ran free. Then the horses were put in again, and all was ready for a fresh .start. ' ' Thank you very much, ' ' said Bessie. "I am glad to help you," said Woolham. "You don't oblige us in all our requests," said May. "We have asked you to come up to the Homestead on several occasions, and you have not responded." "Believe me it is not through any lack of apprecia- tion of your kindness in giving the invitation," replied the young man. "And now," he continued, "as I have to go over to the river, if you don't mind, I'll accompany you and open the gates. ' ' "That will be splendid," replied May. THE KOMANCE BEGINS CHAPTER V. ABOUT SOME SQUATTERS AND SOME SELECTORS. ONE of the most inconvenient things about travel- ling in the bush is the number of gates you have to open and shut. The road is seldom fenced off. It would entail great expense to do this, and often lead to the employment of extra labour to take the cattle out of various paddocks to water. No doubt, however, gates are often a sign of the selfishness of the wealthy squatter. Rather than go to the expense of getting water in the various paddocks by making dams or digging wells, with windmills to feed the troughs, they put the travel- ling public to the great inconvenience of finding their way through paddocks miles in extent, the road going through innumerable gates. It is the easiest thing in the world to get on the wrong track in these big pad- docks, which are formed with the sole object of in- cluding a road to a natural water supply. There is another object attained by this unprogres- sive and selfish policy, and John Stuart pursued this object persistently. "We don't want the Government to make roads though Ringari," said Stuart to his sons. "The less we see of travellers the better. If we SOME SQUATTERS AND SOME SELECTORS 27 had conspicuous-looking gates entering into our pro- perty and good roads going through it, what would be the result? Why, we should have book .agents, machinery men, bush missionaries, and, worst of all, 'cockies' coming in upon us." It must be explained the "cocky" is the free selector the little man who comes and selects a part of the big man's leasehold estate. The squatters often hate the settlers, because there have been men who made a business of ' ' picking the eyes" out of the squatter's run. These men were not bona-fide settlers, their only ob- ject being to seize on the vital parts of the run, and ultimately compel the squatter to buy him out at an exorbitant price. But, although these men have been the exception, the genuine settler has suffered for their sins. To defeat the law of free-selection the squatters have found many expedients. The most successful one was dummying. This was the practice of putting in straw men themselves as selectors. These men were practically workers on the estate. The squatter would advance them enough money to put what improvements were necessary on the property to comply with the law. On the completion of the residential conditions of the Act, the dummy would make a sale to the squatter, get his cheque, the reward of his chicanery, and most likely proceed to the nearest bush public house and have .a good time, then return and report himself to the "boss" for more work. There were few big stations in the old days in Ne\v South Wales which were not more or less got together by dummying. Belated legislation has made it now 28 THE SELECTOR more difficult and risky, but you can drive through the country and mark the deserted and disused selectors' huts everywhere. John Stuart shared all the prejudices of his class against selectors. He had fought them or bought them out when com- pelled, and his property now was arranged so that few travellers went that way. For instance, no one would guess that the creaky broken-down gate on the Munilla Road led to Rangari Homestead. Going through the gate you had to turn at a right angle, and, travelling along a bush track, you had to zig-zag for unnecessary miles, from paddock to pad- dock, before you caught a sight of the corrugated iron roof of the long rambling house in the distance. With a perverseness which was as stupid as it was selfish, the squatter still opposed the application of the settlers at Gum Flat to get a direct road through his property. That the difficulty of getting their wheat and wool to the railway was a great handicap on their industry, was a thought that never seemed to enter his fossilised brain. After this long and dry digression we must return to our driving party. You may be sure that there were not too many gates for Woolham on that bright spring morning. To canter from closing one gate to opening another was to him a privilege. The thanks spoken and looked by the girls was a sufficient recompense to him. * SOME SQUATTERS AND SOME SELECTORS 29 The fact is, our usually level-headed jackeroo had surrendered unconditionally to the charms of Bessie. He had had many opportunities of seeing her. In the little Union Church where they worshipped on Sunday afternoons, his heart had beguu to sing to the praises of Bessie. In his long rides around the fences his memory painted beautiful pictures of Bessie upon the canvas of imagination. Sometimes it was Bessie in white dress, the rebellious brown hair escaping from all restraint and dancing golden in the sun as she tended the flowers in the garden. Sometimes it was Bessie in smart riding habit dash- ing through the bash on her favourite horse. Some- times it was Bessie with the reins in her firm little hands guiding the chestnuts along the bush track, as she was doing this morning. The pictures were various, but Bessie was always the centre. Had she been a saint with a nimbus of glory radiat- ing from her golden tresses, he could not have wor- shipped her more. That Bessie obtained some satisfaction from the sight, as she saw him sitting so gracefully the strong bay he had bought for himself, as he opened the gates for them we may take for granted. CHAPTER VI. THE TAMING OF VIXEN. TT is said that "love is blind," but it is not blind to * the progress that "the other fellow" is making. This may account for the attitude which Arthur Yates assumed towards Woolham. Yates was as much in love with Bessie as a man of his self-sufficient temperament could be in love with anyone, and he discerned that Woolham was very favourably regarded by the ladies of the Homestead. It was galling to him that the "new-chum upstart," as he chose to think of "Woolham should be treated with such favour, whilst he, the son and heir of one of the wealthiest squatters of the north-west should have to remain in the "court of the strangers," so far as the good graces of the two sisters, especially Bessie, were concerned. The truth is that the girls had not taken to Yates, whom they persisted in judging on his own merits rather than in the light of his father's bank account. Yates was not a nice man. He was not manly; he was overbearing in his demeanour to others, and had an absurd notion of his own importance; a notion which had been fostered in the home, where he was a spoilt child, at school and college, where he had been allowed to handle too much money, and on his father's 30 THE TAMING OF VIXEN 31 station, where there were too many employees who had found that it paid to let young Yates have his own way. At Ringari, however, it was different. Alick Stuart, the elder son, who was practically manager, cordially disliked him. The men were not impressed by his great bulk, for they shrewdly guessed that his spirit w,as not as great as his frame, and Woolham soon saw that Yates was a ' ' bounder ' ' whom one might wisely ignore. There had been some friction between the two jackaroos, and once Yates had even laid hands on Woolham, but the new-chum had held him with a Japanese grip which had surprised the bigger man. So all that Yates could now do was to try and score off Woolham by showing up his inexperience when occasion offered. But it is not wise to assume that a new-chum is ignorant on every point, and as a matter of fact new-chums are not nearly so callow as they are painted by the popular stories and jokes which are told at their expense in the country. It is usually believed of all new-chums that they can- not ride. That art is understood to be a prerogative belonging only to Australians. When, therefore, a day was given to the handling of young horses, Yates fully expected that he might assume a superiority over Woolham. When any of the men had a bad time with a par- ticularly wild horse, he would suggest that Woolham should show them how they handled young horses in the old country. 3'2 THE SELECTOR But the Englishman had a gift of self-restraint and silence which was not easily understood by Yates. Our new-chum was quite willing to help in a minor way as one who was a learner, and he did not take the trouble to notice all Yates 's silly innuendoes. It is open to question whether the method of break- ing in horses usually adopted on a big station is either sensible or profitable. Some very valuable horses do not respond very well to mere brute force. If horses in Australia were of more commercial value, perhaps breakers would use more patience with them, and strive to teach them as well as tame them. Many a good horse is spoilt by what is called its breaking-in. If thoughts like these passed through the mind of Woolham, he wisely kept them to himself, and observed the game from ,the standpoint of a looker-on. The particular feature of the morning's work was to be the handling of ' ' Vixen, ' ' a spirited mare owned by Yates. It was admitted that animals of the Boccacio blood were of the best sort if they could be broken in, but every now and again this stock showed an outlaw which could never be broken, and even among those who had been successfully handled very few became really quiet until they were aged. It was suspected that Vixen would prove the odd outlaw. Previous attempts to handle the mare had given no promise of final success. As she stood in the centre of the stockyard, Vixen extorted the admiration of all, even of .those who had THE TAMING OF VIXEN 33 least faith in her temper. She was a golden chestnut with three white stockings and a star in her forehead. With a splendid wither and a well-ribbed-np level barrel, she possessed a small head with fiery eyes and curling sensitive nostrils. "She is worth five pounds now, Yates," said Alick Stuart, as he coiled the rope up ready to lasso the mare ; ' ' but if we have luck this morning, she may be worth anything from thirty to fifty pounds before the' day is out." By this time the ground of the stockyard had been worked up very loose by previous handlings, but the mare waltzed round as if &he were treading on air. But ere long she was safely bridled, and "Corny," an aborigine* who seemed to be as unconscious of danger, where horses were concerned, as he was un- conscious of obligation where other work was con- cerned, was ready to mount. However skilfully Corny managed to approach, the mare seemed to divine his intention, and always sprang away, and it was not until she had been blindfolded that Corny managed to slide into the big stockman's saddle. When the aborigine was firmly seated and ready, he gave the word, "Let her go," and the fun began. The horse reared and plunged and then bucked in every conceivable way, but the lithe native clung like a limpet to the saddle, amid cries from the stockmen, rouseabouts, and boundary-riders, who were seated on * I have preferred to use the word aborigine ns the singular to aborigines, believing that the commonly accepted word aboriginal would be more properly used only as an adjective. AUTHOR. 34 THE SELECTOR the top rail of the stockyard "Stick to her, Corny!" "Hang on!" Once or twice the rider was nearly thrown, but his pluck was as remarkable as his balance was graceful. With .the horse's heels in the air, sometimes Corny was almost parallel with the horse's back in his effort to keep the perpendicular; at another time the animal's head and the rider's were almost close together, when the excited mare was rearing on her hind legs as if she would throw herself over. Then she bucked from side to side, but so far the intrepid darky stuck to his mount. His lithe limbs, clothed in tight-fitting moleskins, gripped the horse firmly. Red shirt and light bluchers completed his raiment, and with his shock of rough hair he formed as Avild a picture as can be imagined. The mare was quietening down a bit, and it seemed as though, after all, Vixen was going to be quelled. But it takes a lot of bucking, even in a sandy stock- yard, to tire a horse like Vixen, and soon she began again. Corny was not as fit now as he had been. He had had enough bucking even to make an aborigine dizzy, and when, after going once more through all the tricks she knew, the mare succeeded in getting her head right down between her legs and her body curved like an arch, it seemed, for a brief moment, as though the darky were poised on the edge of the world. Then the horse bucked, and .Corny came off, and so did everything else, for the victorious mare had got rid THE TAMING OF VIXEN 35 of saddle, girth, and crupper, and not a strap was broken. Spitting out sand and swear-words peculiar to the vocabulary of an aborigine, who always seems readiest to learn this sort of English, Corny picked himself up, and was understood to remark that he was satisfied. Old Patrickson, a neighbouring cocky who had come over to see the fun, declared oracularly that in his opinion it was "a fair go," and he handed sixpence to Corny for a special drink. Alick Stuart said, "It was very good for a beginning." "Lucky," one of the stockmen, managed to get the mare, and remarked to Woolham that he thought after all that the mare could be quietened. "She's lively, but she ain't treacherous; she don't finish gettin' a fellow off by trying to kick him, ?nd she ain't shown the white of her eye at all." "That's a fact," said Wright, the boundary-rider, who seldom removed his cherry-wood pipe to say any- thing, and hardly ever seemed to be really smoking. Even a cold and empty pipe seems to conduce to philosophy. As for Yates, on the whole he was reassured; the mare, he thought, was no outlaw. He had not hidden his purpose to ride her himself before the day was out, and though a big man he was really a good rider. The only thing now, he spitefully remarked, was for them "to put the Englishman up." "The mare won't be much good to you unless you learn to ride her," remarked Woolham. The sting was in the word "learn," and Yates let out a fiery string of expletives designed to show that he knew all 38 THE SELECTOR about riding long ago, when Wolham was "chawing bacon in the old country, where bucking horses were unknown." Woolham only smiled and shrugged his shoulders in a way which Yates never seemed to relish. But by this time Lucky, the stockman, was up, and the spectators turned to see the next act. Lucky had gone one better than Corny in getting into the saddle without bother. He was a smart rider, who was popu- larly credited with being very good at "getting on and getting off." He never seemed to be bent on try- ing to see merely how long he could sit a horse, and used to reply to all chaff by laughingly remarking that "he did not go much on trying to quieten a horse at one sitting." However, the horses that Lucky broke in were ac- knowledged to be invariably well trained. On this occasion he had seized the animal by the ear and vaulted quickly into the saddle, probably very much in Vixen's surprise, who had lost no time in getting to work. After sticking a short time, Lucky managed to safely and gracefully come off, and, resuming his place on the top-rail, he explained to the mocking onlookers "that he had a sort of instinct which always seemed to tell Mm when he had had about enough. ' ' Yates now cynically demanded of Woolham "whe- ther he wanted his turn now." "After you, thanks," was the reply. This was really a sort of challenge, and Yates re- marked : "Your turn will be next, then, for I am going to ride the horse now." THE TAMING OF VIXEN 37 "Yes, I expect it will be soon," Woolham replied. Yates had allowed this little passage to get him angry, and he did not fare well on the back of the mare. To ride a buckjumper, one must be cool in temper, in order (to be wary of eye and judgment. The mare after a while seemed to just double herself up and threw him out of the saddle as a stone is thrown out of a catapult. "It's a bit suddent," remarked Patrickson. But Yates 's blood'was up, and he mounted a second time, was thrown again, and then he declared to Stuart that he thought the mare was more likely to be worth five pounds than fifty. "I'd sell her for a tenner now," said he. Very much to the surprise of everyone, Woolham quietly said : "Here are your ten pounds now." "I'm afraid she'll never be worth it to you, Wool- ham," said Stuart. "You'd better ride her first," said Yates sarcasti- cally. "You know it is your turn." " I '11 buy her first, then ride her, ' ' replied Woolham. "It's a fair go," Patrickson exclaimed. "Well, I'll give you my receipt for the amount and sell her to you," said Yates; "but I hope you will not rob us of an exhibition of your English horseman- ship." The deal w r as made, and then the new-chum pro- ceeded to handle the horse, which was now in a most wicked temper. Whilst Lucky held the mare, he removed the monkey straps, to which Yates had vainly attempted to cling, 38 THE SELECTOR from the saddle, and readjusted the stirrups to his length. He began then to rub the horse's nose and forehead to soothe her. "You should say a few kind words to her," said Yates mockingly. Taking no notice of the remark, Woolham rubbed the horse down with a dry cloth, and the horse, which at first was restless, began to get used to the process, and evidently liked it. Then, tightening the girths and the surcingle, he quietly slid into the saddle, at the same time turning the horse's head away from the crowd. To the surprise of the onlookers, the mare moved forward quietly at first. Woolham spoke to her soothingly, and urged her gently on with knees and reins. But the new-chum was not to have an easv victory, although it was evident that the horse wanted to know what it was expected to do. Had it been spurred or struck, it would have bucked at once. It walked round one side of the stockyard, snorting, but when it came to where the onlookers were seated on the rail, it refused to continue, and when urged began to buck. Then it was seen that the new-chum was no amateur, for, whilst clinging to the saddle with the skill of the practised rough rider, he kept the horse always moving in the desired direction, until the mare was plunging and rearing around the yard. It seemed as though the horse had accepted a new idea that it was to move in a given direction. By-and-bye "Woolham said, "Let down the rails, Lucky," and then the mare went bucking and plunging out of the stockyard. THE TAMING OF VIXEN THE NEW-CHOM WAS NO AMATEUK. [Page 38. 40 THE SELECTOE Woolham turned the horse up the hill. Getting on to the road, the horse went into a bolt, and it appeared as though the rider was urging it on faster. When at last the will of the horse and the will of the rider coincided, the pace was terrific, and soon both were out of sight. 4 'She '11 break his neck," said Yates, with a sort of grim satisfaction. "It was a risky thing to do," said Alick Stuart. Late in the afternoon, Woolham was seen riding the mare home at a smart walk. Dismounting, he staggered with weakness and weari- ness. "I feel," he said -to Lucky, "as if I had not a bone in my body which has not been broken." "Yes," said Lucky, "she keeps the flies off. She is a bit lively." "Anyhow," replied the jackaroo, "I reckon I own that mare not because I have paid ten pounds for her, you understand, but because she has learnt to know me and my ways." "I understand," said Lucky, as he helped to rub Vixen down and give her a feed. CHAPTER VII. A BOLT FROM THE BLUE. IN real life, the phrase "When things are at their worst they usually take a turn" may be reversed, for when things are going well they often take a turn for the worse, and we are never left long without some difficulty to try us. To say the least, Edward Woolham was contented and happy in his present life. He was learning something every day of the voca- tion he had chosen. He was on good terms with almost all on Ringari Station, and he felt that he was trusted by the Stuarts. His bay cob Buller had taken nicely to harness, and Vixen was so docile that she had even carried Bessie for a few rides, much to Yates's disgust. When one morning he received his mail, among some eagerly-expected letters from home he noticed a big blue envelope, which he thought he would leave to the last, for it had a cold official look which did not recom- mend it. Opening it, he discovered a letter from Mr. Sears- dale, the land agent, relating to some formal documents enclosed from the Lands Department. "You will see by the enclosed communications from the Lands Department," wrote Scarsdale, "that your so 41 42 THE SELECTOR application to take up nine hundred acres in the parish of Ringari as a selection has been successful, and when you have complied with the requirements set forth therein you may enter into possession. Go on the land, young man ! I hereby launch you on your career as a free-selector, and may God have mercy upon your soul ! Do you wonder at my words ? ' ' wrote the eccen- tric agent. "I know, and I tell you that some have discovered that the life of a free-selector in New South Wales is anything but free. There are perils of floods, perils of bush-fires, perils of loneliness, perils of false neighbours sometimes big squatters then there are perils of droughts and perils of rabbits, and, perhaps as bad as any other, there are perils of Government red-tape. "From all such I pray, 'Good Lord, deliver you.' Some in this country have been settled on the land under conditions which have certainly included fixity of tenure, for it has soon been their burial-place. ' ' Others have gone for a holiday to a lunatic asylum. There are several palatial ones provided by a paternal Government. However, I wish you luck. "For your encouragement I may say that now anJ again the odd man wins. ' ' The odd man usually has pluck, common sense, and patience. "I believe you have these three virtues, so I say, 'Go in and win.' "Yours truly, "MARK SCARSDALE. "P.S. Take a gun with you when you interview old Stuart. "M.S." A BOLT FROM THE BLUE 43 Woolham wondered at this strange letter. Why should he take a gun with him when he interviewed Mr. Stuart? On the whole he was pleased. He would have to leave Ringari some day. It was a comfort to know that he would not on this selection be far from Bessie. He had not breathed a word of love to her, but he fancied sometimes that she had guessed his secret and was not displeased. He wondered if she would be glad to know that he was not going far away. In this spirit he went over to Mr. Stuart's office with the letter in his hand. As soon as Mr. Stuart saw him, he got up angrily. The old man was white with rage. "It's you, is it? I 've got a letter, too, ' ' he said. "Is that what you came here for, to ferret out my land? And I, like a fool, had begun to trust you. But, by Heaven, I ' ve not done with you yet ! You '11 curse the day you ever came selecting on Ringari ! ' ' "I don't understand what you mean, sir, by this abuse," said the young man stiffly. "I came to tell you that I have just received this letter to say that my application for land has been granted, and I shall have to leave your service as soon as it is convenient to you. ' ' "Leave my service! I should think so, this very day, as soon as you can pack up." "What crime have I committed? Is it not natural for a young man to seek to obtain land of his own ? ' ' "But not on my run!" roared the old squatter. 44 THE SELECTOR "But, sir," replied Woolham, "it is not your land, and, what is more, you could never obtain it, for it is only available for selection. "When I applied for it I had not seen it. I don't want in any way to injure you. When I received this I was only glad that I was to be your neighbour." "My neighbour! Yes," said Stuart sarcastically, "you'll be my neighbour! "Clear out of this, and at once. I'll give you your cheque now. If you are not out of this soon, I'll set my dogs on you as I would on a thief. ' ' "You will be sorry for these words some day. I don't need to be told to go in this way twice." And the younger man, with his face burning with indig- nation, swung out of the room, leaving the irate squatter almost beside himself with rage. The noise of the altercation was heard outside, and when Woolham left he met Bessie on the verandah. "What is the matter, Mr. Woolham?" said she. "Your father has insulted me," said the English- man. ' ' I went to tell him that my application for land had been granted, and that I should have to leave his service when convenient to him, and, because n'.y selec- tion has been part of his lease, he has ordered me to go at once. ' ' "Surely, sir," said the girl, bridling, "you did not come here to select on our station? That would be most dishonourable." "When I applied for this I did not know Mr. Stuart. It was the only avaialble land in the district. What is there dishonourable in that?" A BOLT FROM THE BLUE 45 Bessie looked steadily into the eyes of the young man. She was beginning to take in the situation. "You have done nothing dishonourable," she said slowly and firmly. "I do not think you could do anything dishonourable. I can see that you don't quite understand how my father would regard this. When you do understand you will forgive him for what he has said. I can only say I am sorry for what has happened." "Thank you for that assurance," said Woolham. "I hope that Mr. Stuart will also soon learn that I would not do anything dishonourable." The rumour of what had happened soon spread among the men, and Yates was openly jubilant at the rupture. As for Woolham, that very morning he packed up and left the station, with his kit in the sulky and Vixen trotting behind. CHAPTER VIII. A GOOD SAMARITAN. TT seemed natural for Woolham to turn his horse's head in the direction of Patrickson's. He and the old cocky had formed a friendship, and he felt sure that the old man would take him in. Patrickson's place was on what was called Ti-tree Island. It was an island no longer, but the low-lying land adjoining the little hill where the cocky had built his home suggested that in some distant days the river had sent an arm around the hill, and thus cut it off from Ringari. Indeed, the aborigines had a legend to the effect that the river had once been twice as deep and wide and a broad arm had encircled the hill ; hence the place was called Ti-tree Island. The low-lying land was now a rich meadovr, where Patrickson's prize herds, of which he was inordinately proud, were usually pastured. Patrickson's was a bachelor home. He had a cot- tage built of dressed hardwood slabs. He had cut the timber, dressed it with the adze, and built the house himself. The architecture of "Eureka," as he called his homestead, was very simple, but it was very sensible. A little wide hall flanked by two bedrooms opened into a big living-room, with an enormous open fireplace. 46 A GOOD SAMAEITAN 47 Above the mantel the farmer's guns and stockwhip were hung, while a fine saddle hung upon a rack upon the wall. A housewife would not have permitted this, but the old fellow used to remark, "What is the good of being single if you cannot do as you like ? ' ' There was no teapot in the house, for the cocky had a superstitious reverence for the "billy," and always thought that tea could not be brewed properly in any other sort of utensil. Pictures of prize horses and cattle (Patrickson's delight) adorned the walls of the long dining-room, and a complete library of Australian literature filled a bookcase which crowned a bureau. It was the boast of the old man that there was not a book written by an Australian author, either story or poetry, he did not possess. The Bible and Shakes- peare, with a few other standard works, completed his literary equipment, and when he was not discoursing on cattle and horses he loved to quote the jingle of the bush poets. A wide verandah overgrown with grape and passion fruit vines ran round the house, and a covered way led to the kitchen and man's room. Stables and out- buildings, including great haystack yards, were built at a distance square with the house, and a good, though small, garden was fenced off from the paddocks. "What!" sang out the cocky as he discerned his visitor. "On the wallaby?" "Yes," said Woolham. "I've come to see if you can take me in. I am a wanderer on the face of the earth." 48 THE SELECTOR The young man told his story, and Patrickson listened sympathetically. During the recital they had unharnessed Buller, and having put the sulky into the shed and the horses in the paddocks, the old man said, ".Come in; you are welcome to Eureka. You have a rough row to hoe, but I'm your friend, and you can consider Eureka your home as long as you like. ' ' Woolham warmly thanked him for his truly hush welcome. After lunch Patrickson said, pointing to the hills opposite his front verandah: ''Yonder is your selection, not more than a mile away. You are just between me and Ringari. You'd better make Eureka your headquarters until you have a shanty of your own. I've been through the mill. Let me tell you I am the only selector that old Stuart could never shift, and he has tried all he knows. ' ' Your selection has been taken up before, and aban- doned, and I happen to know that the old man had a game on by which he was going to secure it. You have spoilt his game; that's why he is so rnad.'' "But how could he secure the land when it is only open for selection?" said Woolham. "My son, there are lots of by-ways in the Lands Department, and by getting the right scoundrel to work for you, and for a consideration, you can get land put under various forms, and as the land has been available for so long and no one took it up, an argu- ment was accumulating for its being sold. But you have spoilt that argument. Mind you, I am not say- A GOOD SAMAEITAN 49 ing that the old man is either better or worse than others. I 'd want that land if I were he, and if it had been sold I should have expected some of it, ''If Stuart had been less scrupulous he might have had it long ago. It is only lately that he put it into the hands of a certain party. 1 ' I have thought lately that the old man was getting more civilised, for when I selected here he was a bit of a barbarian, and I expect that now that you have spilt his milk he and those who work for him will show you their roughest side. "When I began I had no friend. I lived in a tent first, then in a bark hut. "I am glad that you will not have to suffer quite as much as I had. "When anything suddint happens, just come along here and have a smoke whilst we plan our moves." It was under these circumstances that our new-chum received his promotion. First up-to-date swagman, then jackaroo, now selector. He was getting on in the world, but at present he was no happier. CHAPTER IX. LUCKY FRIDAY. TT70OLHAM was more or less helpless by himself ^ * upon his selection. Notwithstanding his colonial experience, he felt that his selection formed a hard and lonely task. Many a selector has spent the early years of residence on his selection amid conditions worse than a term of hard labour. The selector pays a big price for any success he may obtain. Fortunately Woolham could afford help, but it was important to get the right sort of companion to share his toils. His friend Patrickson never did him a better service than when he introduced Lucky Friday to him as his helper. "Well," said he one evening when Woolham had gone over to Eureka to smoke the pipe of peace with him. "Well, Robinson Crusoe, I have found the man Friday for you." ' ' That is good news, ' ' said Woolham. ' ' Who is it ? " "Lucky Friday has taken a great fancy to you, and he Avould like to come." "I would rather have him than anyone," said the selector. Lucky Friday was known to Woolham as an occa- sional worker on the Ringari Station. He could 60 LUCKY FEIDAY 51 plough, shear, fence, break in horses in fact, he was a handy man who could do anything upon a selection. On the next day, sure enough a Friday, too, Lucky arrived on his flea-bitten grey mare. All his kit was wrapped in a roll of American cloth and strapped on the front of the saddle, his fowling- piece in the middle of the roll. In a leather case strapped at the back of the saddle was the indispensable billy. The long stockman 's whip was curled up in his hand, and his dog Bluenose followed. "Mornin', Bess!" said Lucky. "Good morning," said Woolham. "I am glad to see you, but I am not quite ready for you yet. Where shall I put you?" A broad grin spread over Lucky 's beaming face. The question was so superfluous to him that he had not a response ready. He raised his slouch hat in a meditative sort of way. His curly hair surrounded his face as a frame does a picture; for Lucky was growing a beard; and his smile turned into a laugh as he said, "You bet, I'll find a place to put meself." Having unsaddled and exhibited the good points of his mare, of which he was very proud, he turned the horse into a paddock which the selector had formed by building a rough temporary fence. Next he made an ingenious contrivance within the bark stable to rest his saddle on, and put up peErs for his bridle and whip alongside Woolham 's; then he turned to the selector and said : "Well, Boss, what about a bit of tucker?" 52 "Can you cook?" said Woolham. Once more Lucky smiled a reassuring smile, and already Woolham believed that Lucky was a capital cook. This belief was soon confirmed by works. When Lucky saw the tinned food and biscuits in Woolham 's storeroom he remarked: "These are all right when you are in a hurry, but give me a bit of damper and corn-beef." Soon the two sat before an excellent meal. The meal was better than the appointments. The table was an empty ease; for chairs they had boxes. The sideboard was another case. Woolham had fixed up a comfortable shanty, roofed with corrugated iron fastened on cypress pine sap- lings. Sheets of bark were fastened on rough posts cut in the bush for sides to the house. He had even put a floor down in his little bedroom, where he had an iron camp bedstead and horse-hair mattress. But this was a luxury for which Lucky had no desire. After lunch Lucky arranged his bedroom. It was a lean-to of bark fastened with the ubiquitous fencing wire, with which a true bushman can do any- thing, from mending his harness to building his house. His bed was an arrangement of saplings and bagging, with which he made a stretcher. "We shall have a better home than this some day, Lucky, please God, ' ' said Woolham. "This is good enough for me," said Lucky. Thus began a comradeship between the two young men which was to last till death. LUCKY FEIDAY 53 A comradeship never repented of on either side. Lucky was absolutely loyal, true as steel, and as de- pendable as the Bank of England. With the coming of Lucky Friday the selector did more for himself than he knew, for he was straightway adopted into Lucky 's family, and Mrs. Lovell would have been sorely disappointed if ever the "Boss," as she called Woolham, had passed her door without calling. Many a cup of tea had Woolham in the humble home of the Lovells. Woolham knew that Mrs. Lovell was not really the mother of Lucky ; that he was in fact >an adopted son ; but he also knew that an unusual affection existed be- tween them an affection far beyond the relation existing between Mrs. Lovell and her other sons, who were all from home, and for the most part married. They had their own selections and families to think about, and had tacitly left the care of the old couple to Lucky. There was a story attached to Lucky and his strange name. Woolham knew something of it, and once he ven- tured to say to Mrs. Lovell, as he sat drinking a cup of tea with the rough but kindly woman: "How is it, Mrs. Lovell, that you came to adopt Lucky, when you had such a large family of your own, and how did he come by his curious name?" "Well, sir, it's a long story, and I'll tell you just how it happened. Only I'll say this first I've never been sorry for taking Lucky. He has been more com- fort to me than all my own, and I've 'ad seven, five sons and two daughters." CHAPTER X. THE STORY OF LUCKY FRIDAY. IT is twenty years ago, and I was living here, ' ' said Mrs. Lovell. "My man Lovell was then a fencer and tank-sinker. Most of my family were too young to earn anything, and, with Lovell without any regular work, we had a hard time, and sometimes could hardly make ends meet. "One day I was sitting outside sewing. I saw com- ing down the bush track a rough shearer. He was a big man with a long beard. He rode one horse and led another, a pack-horse. But the thing that struck me was, that he at the same time carried in his arms a bundle which looked to me as if it contained something very like a baby. "Riding one horse and leading the other did not bother him very much, but carrying the bundle too was something of a handful. "My interest was aroused, and before he reached the house I rose and asked him: " 'What have you got there, Mister?' " 'You may well ask that, Missus. Look at 'im/ said he, uncovering a baby's face. 'Isn't he a beauty? What do you think of 'im for a kid ? ' "The little chap was fast asleep, and I tell you he was a beauty. THE STOEY OF LUCKY FRIDAY 55 LOOK AT 'IM. ISN'T HE A BKAUTV ?" [Page bi. 56 THE SELECTOK ' ' He had light curly hair and bright blue eyes. His fat little hands were twisted in the clothes, and he had a smile on his face." Here the old lady paused for breath, and then remarked, "Bless me, he has had that smile on his face ever since. "As I was looking at him the baby waked up and laughed in my face. Then I said, 'Where did you get 'im, and what are ye going to do with 'im?' " 'Well, Missus, that's soon told, and if you will take the kid I'll tell you.' With that he handed me the baby in the bundle and dismounted. "Having tied his horses up, the shearer then sat down on the verandah and said: " 'Well, Missus, you want to know where I got that kid. About fifteen miles down the track I saw a family camping by the creek. I boiled my billy on their fire. I couldn't see the husband, but there were kids heaps of them knocking around, and the woman seemed a poor delicate body with more on her hands than she could manage. I guess she 'ad a help- less sort of a ninny as a husband. I didn't see 'im. She said they were travelling, and her husband was doing some odd jobs at a neighbouring selector's place. ' ' ' This little chap was howling very likely because he couldn't manage to get anything out of the empty bottle he was tugging at. I took a fancy to the kid from the start, and I arsked, "What's the name of that nipper?" " ' "Oh," she said, "his name is 'One-Too-Many.' He was born on a Friday, and he has brought no luck to us. He did not even bring his food along with him." THE STOEY OF LUCKY FEIDAY 57 " 'For answer to that and to cheer her up a bit, I sang a line or two of the comic song, "Never be born on a Friday, It's a most unlucky day." " 'That didn't seem to bring 'er no comfort, and then a suddent thought came to me, and I said : " ' "What arc you agoing to do with 'im?" and she says, "Gawd knows sell 'im or give 'im away." " 'With that I took a sovereign out of my pocket, and, holding it to .'er, I says, '"Ere ye are; I'll give ye a quid for the kid. ' ' " 'I didn't think she'd take it, but she did. Then I didn't think she'd let me take 'im. I filled 'is bottle up with warm tea with a lot of condensed milk in it, and I watched 'is nibs suck it all up. After that the kid was quite jolly ; 'e larfed at me an ' pulled my whiskers, an' when I cracked my fingers at 'im 'e larfed again. " 'Howsomever, when I packed up I said to the woman, "Me an' the kid 'ad better be moving on. I '11 call 'im ' Lucky Friday. ' ' ' She wrapped 'im up in these duds, an' filled 'is bottle with the larst of the condensed milk, an' when I was on the horse she put 'im in my arms, an' as I was agoing she said to the baby, "Gawd 'elp ye, I carn't!" " 'Since then I 'ave wished I'd given 'er another quid to take 'im back. " 'I thought several times when I 'eard a noise on the track it was the woman coming for 'im to take 'im back, but she hasn't come yet.' "Whilst the shearer was talking I fed the baby on warm cow's milk, and the more I looked at his pretty SD 58 THE SELECTOE face the more I loved it. I was angry at the woman ; I could have screwed her neck for an unfeeling mother, and I was angry with the man. " 'Ye 're a bad man,' I said, 'a cruel man. "What can you do with the child?' " 'Ye 're right there,' he said. 'It was a bad thing to do, but it's. done. She's got my quid an' I've got 'er kid, an' what the devil to do with it, I don't know.' And he scratched his head puzzled like. "At last he said, 'Look 'ere, Missus, I'll give 'im to you. ' " 'I've seven of my own,' I said, 'and hard work to do for them. If my man comes home and finds a strange child here, he'll not be pleased.' " 'It does not matter 'ow many ye've got; any man is bound to be pleased to 'ave a kid like that in the house, ' said the shearer. " 'Look,' said he, 'I'll leave another quid with you to 'elp buy 'im milk. If the mother does not come to claim 'im in a month, you write a letter to me and say you still 'ave 'im. Write to James Edwards, Shearer, Post Office, Coonamble. That address will find me. You promise that you will 'ave 'im christened by the parson after me. James that is to be 'is name. " 'If I 'ave luck I'll send 'im a quid along once in a while.' "So I promised, and we kept him. The mother never came for him. If she had I wouldn 't have given 59 him back. And the shearer was right about my man Lovell, for he took to the child from the first, and wouldn't have parted with him for anything. "You see, Lucky had such a taking way with him and such a bright smile. ' ' "And do you ever hear from James Edwards?" asked Woolham. "Yes," said Mrs. Lovell. "Every year on the anniversary of the day when he gave him to me we have a short letter from James Edwards. He never puts any address on his letters, and he always sends a sovereign in a registered envelope. He always writes the same 'For Lucky Friday. From James Edwards. ' ' ' I have often sent him a line to tell him how Lucky is getting on. I write to the Post Office, Coonamble, but I never know whether he gets them or not, for he never replies. I always call the lad 'Lucky,' because I have a 'James' of my own. "But Luckj r always says that his name is James Edwards Lovell. That was the name he put in his school books when he went to school. He uses that name himself always, but everybody calls him 'Lucky Friday' for all that. "I never used the sovereigns, but saved them up, and when he was twenty-one I gave him them all, and the letters too. "He thinks a lot of them, too. He never puts them in the bank with his other money; he wouldn't part with them. He has twenty-three now." 60 THE SELECTOR That was the strange history of Lucky Friday then. How it will end no one knows. It ought to end well, for Lucky still has the taking way with him and the same bright smile. CHAPTER XI. BEARDING THE LION IN HIS DEN. WOOLHAM was despondent. There was no doubt of that. His sky was grey, it' not black. There was no silver lining to the dark clouds. The sun would not rise, there were no birds singing in the trees, and generally speaking life was not worth living. Old Mick Patrickson took in the situation at a glance. "Feeling bad, eh? Free-selectin' ain't the game it's cracked up to be." "No," said the young man blankly, "it's not much of a game. ' ' "No, it ain't," said the old cocky, "when the 'ero is in love with the daughter of the bloated capitalist, who wants to clear 'im out of the district. When the squatocrat forgite to rebuke his minions that's the word, 'is grovelling minions who add their part to the game by leaving the 'ero's gates open, breaking down 'is fences, forgitting to put up 'is sliprails, lettin ' of the dawgs in among 'is lambs, and playin' old 'Arry in general. "Selectin' is slow, dead slow, but when you mix it up with a amateur Romeo and Juliet play, it is a sort of tangled-up game. ' ' It was as much as I could without the Romeo and Juliet business, but, Lor' bless me, the young and 61 62 THE SELECTOB rising generation is enterprising; they can play two games at oncet. ' ' Woolham knew his friend's ways, and so he let him talk on. Besides, he knew the old man was nearer the mark than perhaps he thought, and very often there was the true gold of comfort and wisdom hidden among the dross of his half-humorous sallies. The fact was, Woolham had not had a sight of Bessie for a month not since Curlybobs had been lost and found and so the petty worries of his lot had got him under the weather. All human life needs a bit of romance to light it up. "Now what I say is this," continued the old wise- acre. "When life gits dull, carry the war into the enemy's country. Create what the soldiers call a diversion. "If it does not divert them it will divert you, and that's what ye want a little bit of diversion. Why cannot Romeo pay a visit to Juliet? Let 'im take 'is rope ladder in 'is westgit pocket and clim up the win- der and kiss 'er lily-white 'and, as they used to do in the brave days of old. That's what I call creating a diversion. ' ' "By Jove," said Woolham, "not half a bad idea- not half bad. But no rope ladders for me, old chap ; no, we '11 draw the line at rope ladders. ' ' The old fellow watched the selector stride away, and then entered his cottage chuckling. "I wonder what he will do," thought the old man, for he had not an idea of how the young man was going to work out his fanciful suggestion. But when he saw the selector ride away in the after- BEARDING THE LION IN HIS DEN 63 noon on his well-groomed mare Vixen, he understood and admired. The young man was going openly to call on Bessie, to "'beard the lion in his den" was Patrickson's pic- turesque way of describing it to himself. "This sitiwation admits, as the newspapers say. of two or three solutions," said the farmer to himself, sitting down in a meditative way, and arguing it out to himself aloud, as was his way, checking off his pro- positions on his fingers as he proceeded. ' ' Firstly, ' ' said he, ' ' is there anybody over there big enough to kick him out ? "No, there ain't. Young Alick won't, 'cos he likes 'im. Yates won't, 'cos, though 'e's big enough, 'e ain't game. There's the old man well 'e may be too surprised to make up 'is mind. "Secondly, 'ow will Juliet receive 'im? That's the rub. Will she rise to the occasion. If she does it's all right. She'll freeze 'em all, an' treat 'im like a duke. ' ' It may do, yes, it may do. There 's no mistake it 's a frontal attack. It ain't strategy, but it's war; and often straight-out war is the best strategy." Riding up to the front gate of the homestead, Wool- ham dismounted, and, making his w r ay to the verandah, rang the bell. Yates, over by the stables, saw him, and said to one of the men, "There's the new-chum come after the old man with a complaint. The old chap will, give him a telling off. ' ' At the door, Woolham sent in his card "to Miss Bessie" by the half-caste servant. 64 THE SELECTOR Returning, the girl asked him to take a seat in the drawing-room. He was followed in almost at once by Bessie, who received him graciously. Bowing over her extended hand, Woolham said : "Remembering a former invitation, Miss Bessie, of which I hope you have not repented, I ventured to call upon you." "You have been a long time in making up your mind," said Bessie, with a reassuring smile. "You may be sure that it was no doubt on my part as to my desire to come that restrained me. ' ' "But rather," continued Bessie, finishing the sen- tence for him, ' ' a doubt as to the nature of your recep- tion." ' ' Not quite a doubt as to you, ' ' stammered Woolham. ' ' Certainly not, ' ' said Bessie. ' ' I meant all I said ; but even now I am uncertain as to the reception others may be inclined to give you. So let me say at once that I do not associate myself with any what shall I say? business difficulties which may have arisen between you and others. For my part, I can only say I have always respected you, Mr. Woolham, and I shall personally be always glad to see you. I hope you will understand me in the matter." "Yes," said the young man eagerly; "I shall dare to read into your words the very fullest meaning." It was the elder sister who introduced discord. "To what may we owe the honour of this visit?" said May contemptuously, as she stood at the door. Before he could reply, Bessie stood up and, looking May squarely in the face, said: "Please understand, BEABDING THE LION IN HIS DEX 65 May, that Mr. Woolham's visit is to me, in the first place, though I suppose he would be glad if others here were as friendly to him as they might be. I have received him, and that is enough explanation of his presence here and now. I am of age, and that being so, I surely may receive my own friends here. No place can be called a home where one cannot do that. ' ' The girls looked at each other, but it was evident that, in the battle of wills, Bessie was not likely to give in, and the elder girl, with a toss of her head, swept out of the room. Later, when Mr. Stuart came in, May said to him wickedly, "There's a visitor in the drawing-room, father. Perhaps he would be glad to see you." When the old man entered the room, he was amazed to see Bessie pouring out tea for Woolham, who seemed quite at home. Bessie, with her sweetest smile, said: "Mr. Woolham has been months and months in accepting my invita- tion to call on us, father, and I am returning good for evil by giving him tea and cake." ' ' God bless my soul ! ' ' muttered the squatter in sur- prise ; and then, looking as disagreeable as his surprise would enable him to do, he said: "The young man might be more welcome if he came from a greater dis- tance. " "Oh, well, he might manage that some day," said Bessie, ' ' and when he is further away we may see him of tener. ' ' Bessie was the favourite daughter, and the old man was no match for her ; for she was armed with a sweet smile which rarely failed to carry any defence he 66 THE SELECTOE reared against her. But he would not take the tea she was pressing upon him, and he managed to back out of the room, muttering, "God bless my soul." This adventure restored Woolham's spirits wonder- fully. He knew now that, however others misunder- stood him, or misrepresented him, he had a friend in Bessie ; she, at any rate, was not carried away by pre- judice. She had not said much to him, beyond the friendly assurances common to neighbours, and she had not permitted him to say much, either. Woolham recognised that clearly. Until the feud was over, he felt that Bessie meant that he would have to keep his distance; but still it was heartening to know that she had not permitted prejudice to blind her vision. She still respected him, believed in him, and so the sun rose for him again, and the birds sang joyously amid the blossoms. The darkness had gone and it was day. CHAPTER XII. THE INVASION. A COUNCIL of war had been called. Lucky Fri- ^"^- day, Woolham, and Patriekson formed the council. The tobacco-smoke which filled the dining-room of Eureka could not hide the portentous seriousness of the situation, which was reflected in the faces of the old farmer and the usually-smiling Lucky. Strange to say, the selector, who was principally interested, seemed the least perturbed. This may have moved Lucky to blurt out the dismal truth, much as he was accustomed to look at the bright side of things. "It's no good running the show any longer," said Lucky. "The game's up, and the best thing the Boss can do is to arrange with old Stuart. ' ' "It looks as if it had come to that, I admit," said Patriekson. ' ' I don 't see it yet, ' ' said the selector. ' ' No, ' ' said the farmer ; ' ' because you don 't under- stand. You don't understand what this rabbit curse is. If it pulls you down it pulls me too. I am next. "I remember Edwardes Brothers, over Bourke way. They paid 80,000 for their two stations there. When 67 68 THE SELECTOR the rabbits got a holt they sold for 2,000. They I mean the Edwardes are droving now. ' ' "Yes," said Lucky; "over at Scott's place the rabbits are coming on thick and fast fifty and sixty in a hole and old Stuart's doing nothing at all. He has got a lot of land, and he is understocked. He'll have plenty of grass for a long time to come ; besides, he can move his stock on to his other stations across the Queensland border. His sons Jim and Bob are managing there, and so, you see, it don't mean much to him yet. But you, Boss, you need all the grass ye can git, and with the rabbits coming on thick you can grow neither wheat nor wool. They are eating the wheat down now." "That's all right," said the selector; "but I have an idea." "It will have to be a champion idea if it's going to stop the rabbits. Remember, you can't git the Board to make Stuart fight the rabbits. He can point to his rabbit-proof fencing and his poison-carts, and they cannot prove that he is not doing all he can." "If my idea won't work, I know I am done," said the selector; "but I think I'll try it first. I propose to farm the rabbits. I cannot stop them, but I think I can use them. You know, some Victorians have started freezing works at Gunnedah. They are send- ing consignments of frozen rabbits away every week. My idea is to put rabbit fencing between me and Rin- gari, except at the wheat paddocks. I'll let 'em come in there, and close up the fence, say once a week, and get them. We can take a big load into Gunnedah once a week, and we might keep them down a bit, get our THE INVASION 69 regular cheque, and perhaps when Stuart sees that he is not smothering us with rabbits he'll close up his fences and set his poison-carts to work again." "I don't think it will do," said Patrickson, "but you can try it. It will mean money for rabbit-proof wire, but I'm willing to come in, on condition that if it fails you won't hang on till I am down too. If it fails, you'll give in straight away?" "Yes, I am willing to do that," said Woolham. As for Lucky, as soon as there was a bright side, he was the first to see it and rejoice. So he declared "that it was a blamed good idea, and it might do." Thereupon a partnership of three was formed, and the wire was put up within a short time. It succeeded beyond the anticipations of the partners, and the regu- lar cheques for the rabbits were very acceptable. Once a week Lucky drove a two-horse waggonette full of rabbits into Gunnedah, and the invasion was stayed. But the success was never so great as Lucky, who had a royal gift of exaggeration sometimes, made it out to be. To the hands of Ringari he declared that "the rabbit business was just setting the Boss up ; it was better than wheat and wool, because it was constant." It was Yates who persuaded Mr. Stuart to close up his fences and set the poison carts to work, and soon old Patrickson had the satisfaction of seeing that all Rin- gari, as well as Gilga and Eureka, had declared war on the' invaders. CHAPTER XIII. LUCKY 'S FORTUNE. WOOLHAM was now in his second year of resi- dence at Gilga, and things were beginning to settle down into place. His selection was fenced and divided into convenient paddocks. The grass was too coarse and the country too rough as yet for well-bred sheep, but he had a few hundred cross-breds, which were doing well. His wheat was a failure owing to the rabbits, but it had served to provide some feed for the sheep, which had been turned into it after the rabbits had spoilt the chance of a, crop. The rabbits had paid for their own destruction, for the rabbit cheques had paid for the rabbit-proof fenc- ing, which was now all round the selection. When the selector received his first cheque for wool, he began to feel that he was somebody. In another year or two, with luck, he might hope to have some- thing like a regular income. Meanwhile he was turning all his resources into the gradual erection of headquarters. The homestead he was to build was now his thought by day and his dream by night, but you may be sure that he had dreams also in regard to the fair lady who 70 LUCKY '3 FOETUNE 71 he hoped would preside there some day as the lady of the house. All he could do as yet, however, was to build the stables, stockyards, and sheds. These he built in the order of their necessity, and on a scale which extorted the admiration of Lucky and Patrickson. They were built in convenient lines with the proposed new house, the site of which was planned. Both Lucky and he were immensely proud of the gable- roofed building, which was divided into four stalls for horses, a cow-shed, forage-store, and coach-house, which as yet only contained the selector's sulky and the useful waggonette. A machinery-shed was planned and partly built, to cover the plough, harrow, blacksmith 's forge, and work- shop which Gilga already possessed. What could Lucky not do? He was blacksmith, wheelwright, and saddler, and he was specially ambitious about the work- shop, which, in its completed state, he declared, was to be a model. Lucky had been home for the week-end, and he brought back with him on Monday a very acceptable shower of rain. Woolham was at the task which he reserved for rainy days. He was working out his plans for the ideal homestead of the future. "Well, what news, Lucky?" he exclaimed in greet- ing, as the young man appeared. ' ' How does the out- side world wag?" A glance at Lucky 's face showed that he was indeed big with news of some sort. 72 THE SELECTOR "News?" said he; "news enough. It's better to be born lucky than rich. I 've come into a fortune. "Straight wire!" he answered the selector, who had looked up in surprise and inquiry. "There's the letter ; it came on Saturday. ' ' Woolham took the letter held out to him. It was addressed "James Edwards Lovell, Esq., Gum Flat, Ringari, ViaMunilla," and read "Re James Edwards, deceased. "Dear Sir, I beg to inform you that my late client, Mr. James Edwards, who died a week ago, has left his property to you. About a year ago I made his will, under his instructions, in which he appoints me as his executor and you as his sole legatee. As far as can be ascertained at present, when all duties and expenses are paid, there will be about 500 to hand over to you. I have taken the necessary steps to secure the money, which is on bank deposit, for you, and at an early date I shall communicate again with you. "Mr. Edwards wrote a letter before he died, and, according to his desire, I send it herewith. ' ' I have the honour to be, Yours obediently, FRANCIS BROWNE." James Edwards' letter read as follows: "Coonamble, 1905. ' ' Dear Lucky, I always think of you as Lucky, and so I say dear Lucky, although let me tell you I am LUCKY 'S FOETUNE 73 very proud of you being named after me, and I expect the day will come when you will be James Edwards Lovell, ESQUIRE, and no end of a toff. Don't you ever forgit to write Edwards in your name when your day comes. Mrs. Lovell has kindly writ to me regular to tell me how you was, and I am obliged to her. I ain 't much of a writer, and so I did not send you any letters only a sov. to keep up your birthdays; but I Avas very pleased to hear as how you was play in' the game all right according to the proper rules. Sometimes I had a notion of coming over to see you, but I was feared of having any other pictur' of you in my mind than the one I first liked, when you was a kid wrapped up in the blanket in my arms. "I am a rough stick, and I never 'ad a kid of my own, so I took to you. ' ' It helped to keep me straight, thinking of you and how you was stickin' to the old folks as took you in. So I said, 'That's the horse for my money.' I never speckilated, but I have 'ad plenty of graft, and saved up a bit. "I reckon if you cannot make much out of life your- self, the next best thing is to give some other covo a charnst. "I know you will not give my money to the pubs, so I leave it to you with my love. "When I peg out, Mr. Browne, the lawyer, will send this to you. ' ' Give my respects to Mrs. Lovell. "Yours truly, JAMES EDWARDS." "Well, Lucky," said Woolham, shaking his comrade SE 74 THE SELECTOE by the hand, "I am sure I congratulate you with all my heart. You deserve your good luck, and I am certain you will use the money well. Tears were in Lucky 's eyes when he said, "Thank you, Boss. ' ' "James Edwards," Lucky continued, "was a white man, sir." ' ' Yes, ' ' said the selector ; ' ' you cannot say more than that, or less he was a white man. ' ' ' ' I don 't think there is any harm in making a move with that money, Boss," said Lucky. "I have been thinking a long time of a scheme I want your opinion of. The old folks cannot do much with the place they have got, and for some time they have been wanting to make it over to me. It is a very poor place, only good enough for cattle. They are fixing it up in my name this w r eek. It will always be a home for them, and with this money I can use it. Your place here is wasting too without cattle, and so I was thinking, if I could strike up a partnership with you, Boss, we could do a bit of cattle-raising. "Down Maitland and Singleton way there is a drought. I was thinking that, if we could arrange it, although 500 won't go very far, we could bring up some young beasts and put them on Gilga and The Flat, and if we have luck we can soon double our money." The two thrashed the matter out thoroughly, and the result was that Lucky drove in with Woolham to the bank, where an equitable and satisfactory arrange- ment was made, and the firm of "Woolham, Edwards and Lovell" was founded. People often wondered who Edwards was, but Lucky LUCKY S FORTUNE 75 always insisted that he was a very real member of the firm. "It reminds me," he said to the selector, "that I owe a duty to Edwards, who has done so much for me. I must handle his money well ; it took a lot of saving. ' ' The cattle deals of the two men turned out well, and brought Woolham's dream of the ideal homestead nearer. As for Lucky, he had his ambition too, and the old couple were surprised and delighted at the new and comfortable cottage which soon replaced the old shanty in which they had spent most of their hard life. CHAPTER XIV. YATES LOSES CASTE. TDUSHRANGERS in the twentieth century may *-* seem an anomaly, but they were a disagreeable fact nevertheless, and the whole State was excited at the news of their doings. The district of ilunilla was really in a state of panic, for the two desperadoes, headed off by various parties of civilians and police searching in different districts, were known to be travelling in the direction of Bingari district. It was hardly likely that they would venture through the Moonbi Ranges and get into New England district, for they would know that the hiding-places of previous bushrangers, such as Thunderbolt, in that district had become well known, and there were parties there who knew the country who would be glad to earn the 500 offered as a reward for their capture. On the other side they would avoid the towns, for they were half- caste aborigines, and, as their photographs had been in nearly all the papers, they would be easily recog- nised by the police, or even by the public. But they had to travel, for special parties of police were after them. The two Gaynors were no kid-gloved bushrangers, respecting the weak and poor, and only levying black- mail upon the rich ; but they were hardened criminals 74 YATES LOSES CASTE 77 with the brand of Cain upon them. .Murder, outrage, and robbery marked their track. They were outlaws now, fleeing for their lives; every man's hand was raised against them, and they were against all, sworn to vengeance against society, which had driven them forth into the wilderness. A mad ferocity charac- terised all their actions, and whole districts were seized with panic on the rumour of their approach. Women and children waked in the night possessed by fevered dreams the result of the stories of their depredations; and men seriously discussed what steps should be taken to capture them. In a crisis like this, even the differences which divided Ringari from its smaller neighbours were for- gotten, and Alick Stuart rode over to discuss the situa- tion with Patriekson, whose knowledge of the country through which the outlaws must pass was vast and exact. "So far as I can see, Patriekson," remarked Alick Stuart, ''these fellows must come over the Ringari Pass. They are not likely to cross the Namoi and get among the farms, and they w r ill not cross the Moonbi Mountain at that point. They would gain nothing if they did, and, besides, it is almost inaccessible." "You are right, I am sure," said Patriekson. "If the police were worth their salt they would have a party posted there; but they don't seem to know any- thing of that trap. I have been thinking about it, and I don't see how they can avoid coming over the Pass, and I reckon a few men who know the country could get them there." "I think we ought to have a try," said Stuart. "For 78 THE SELECTOE the protection of our women and homes we ought to be on the alert, and, incidentally, we have as much right to that 500 as anybody. ' ' "I am with you," said Patrickson. "What do you propose?" "Well, I thought, if you would lead a party say, of five of us we might camp on the Pass and lay up for them." "Five seems to be rather too many, but perhaps it would be better to be sure than sorry, ' ' said Patrickson. "Well, if you agree, Yates and I will go, and you can take Woolham and Lucky with you. ' ' Four of us could camp out, and Lucky, who knows the bush almost as well as you, could ride out to us when they are reported in the district of Nundle. Be- sides the news he could bring fresh supplies of food. But lest they should come on quicker than we expect, we should get into position as soon as possible. We should start to-morroAv, although they may not really arrive at the Pass for about a week yet. ' ' I fancy, however, they may be there on Wednesday or Thursday, and it is Monday now." Stuart and Patrickson rode over to Gilga, and put the matter before Woolham and Lucky. The selector readily agreed to the project, but Lucky said: "Can't you take somebody else instead of Yates, Mr. Stuart? You can't reckon on him. You'll see, he'll spill the milk for you." : 'No fear, Lucky; you are prejudiced against him. He is a dead shot, and if it comes to grips, he is big enough, isn't he?" said Stuart. "Yes," answered Woolham. "I don't think we need YATES LOSES CASTE 79 trouble to improve the party." The selector's innate spirit of justice led him to sink his prejudice against the big jackaroo. So it was settled, and early the next morning, with- out noising the object of their trip abroad, Stuart and Yates, armed, left the homestead, and joined Woolham and Patrickson at Eureka. They were all well- mounted -Woolham on Vixen, and Patrickson on his favourite hack, a good hill-climber. Meanwhile, Lucky, who had packed his saddlebags over-night, and put Woolham 's cob in a handy little paddock, to be ready, rode over to Ringari, where he was to do some saddlery repairs invented for the purpose. Whilst there he was to get the latest news of the bushrangers through the telephone from Munilla. Bessie, who had been entrusted with the secret, promised to get all the news possible. Lucky was to leave for the Pass on Wednesday morning, news or no news, and Patrick- son had carefully explained what road he was to take. Travelling the greater part of the day, Patrickson led the party by an unfrequented and roundabout way to Ringara Pass, by nightfall. They had care- fully avoided the ordinary roads, in order to leave no tracks likely to arouse the suspicions of the outlaws. Examining the bush carefully, Patrickson assured himself that there were no tracks which might indicate that the bushrangers had already passed. "We are in time, I think, lads," he remarked to the others. A rough but strong yard of saplings had been made at the bottom of a gully some distance from the Pass, 80 THE SELECTOK for the horses. The nose-bags were put on them, and tae saddles were left handy. The old farmer then made his dispositions for the night. At the head of the Pass there were two tracks sepa- rated by a dense forest of scrub. "Now," said Patrickson, "they must take either of these two tracks, and we must watch them both. "There must be no fires and no noise. Suppose, Alick, you and Yates take the lower track. We can watch the track higher up." This was agreed to, and the men separated, on the understanding that the watch was to begin at once. "I'll take the first watch," said Alick to Yates. So they planted themselves behind a great log, with their rifles, screened by bushes, pointing towards the track along which the outlaws might come. Lying there, they partook of the food they had brought with them; their tucker-bags and water-bags lay on the ground between them, and they conversed in whispers whilst they finished the meal. Yates then made himself as comfortable a couch as he could among the leaves, and prepared to sleep until his watch began, or he was called. All through the cold moonlit night Stuart watched the track along the barrel of his rifle. Meanwhile, the other two observed a similar mode of operations in sight of the upper track, Woolham taking the first watch. During the night, the old man, ever a light sleeper, crept round to the lower track, to assure himself that bis instructions were being observed. All was well. YATES LOSES CASTE 81 Yates was sleeping soundly like Rip Van Winkle, and Stuart, on the qui vive, lay alongside his rifle, looking along the track. After a whispered exchange of reports the old man left Stuart, to return to his post. According to arrangement, Stuart waked Yates in the early dawn, to exchange places with him, and soon Stuart was en- joying his well-earned repose, whilst the great bulk of the jackaroo, stretched alongside the rifle, faced the bush track. The morning broke damp and misty ; great banks of fog rolled up from the river, and climbed over the Moonbi Mountain like ordered squadrons advancing against an enemy. So thick were these fog-banks that sometimes Yates could hardly see the track at all. All was silence ; not a leaf rustled among the trees, and the birds as yet had not waked up to greet the rising sun, which so far had only sent out a soft pink fringe of light to herald his approach. The raw cold of the morning penetrated the very bones of the watcher, and he shivered as his hand grasped the cold metal of the rifle. Suddenly a few twigs crackled, and Yates heard the soft regular pad of bare feet crushing the leaves and grass upon the bush track. He gazed along the rifle-barrel at the path without moving a muscle ; not an eyelash twitched. He stared before him like a man frozen rigid in his intentness. Then the bushes parted, and the half-clothed form of an aborigine came into view. He was leaning forward eagerly as he jogged along. 82 THE SELECTOK His rifle was poised ready in his right hand, and his wild eyes roved about with a hunted look, as he searched the track before him. Following him closely was another man, apparently the double of the first, so like were they. They came nearer and nearer, and Yates stared along his gun, with his lip dropping more and more, and his eyes enlarging as though he saw a ghostly apparition. The outlaws passed him so near that he might have thrown a bit of branch and hit them, yet his finger never pressed the trigger; the rifle remained cold in his hand, frozen with him into living statuary. A stone accidentally dislodged by the foot of the first outlaw, as they disappeared among the great rocks, rolled down the side of the mountain Avith an echoing noise, and Patrickson, closely followed by "VVoolham, came swiftly down the hill. "Have you seen anything?" hissed the old man through his teeth. "We thought we heard someone moving along the lower track." By this time Stuart also was wide awake, and the three hurried to Yates 's side. His drawn white face told its own tale. His rifle was now pointed down the path 'along which the out- laws had gone. Tlis flaccid lips hung loose, and his strained eyes were set as one hypnotised. "Well," said Patrickson, sarcastically, "that's a bit suddint; there goes a hundred quid apiece, and be blowed to you!" he hissed, glaring at the jackaroo. It was out of the question following the bushrangers, who were now amongst the great rocks, amongst which, YATES LOSES CASTE 83 84 THE SELECTOR even if they were discovered, they could only be taken at the loss of life. The milk was surely spilt, and it was no good going hungry over it ; so the men quickly lit a fire and boiled the billy, after which they ate a hurried breakfast, during which the jackaroo sat silent and moody. CHAPTER XV. A FIGHT TO THE DEATH. A ND now for our horses, ' ' said Woolham ; ' ' for *"* we must remember that Lucky is leaving Gilga this morning to join us. Although we know that he will not take the beaten track, he might meet the aborigines, and though he would give a good account of himself, they are desperate characters." "Yes," said Patrickson. "It is no good beating about the bush now; we'll ride hard along the track, and pick up Lucky before he gets into the scrub, if we can. We are not likely to see the darkies they are too good bushmen for that. If we do, then so much the worse for somebody." By Tuesday night there was no news of the outlaws, so Lucky rode back to Gilga, and early in the morning started out on Woolham 's cob, Buller, for the Pass, with his capacious saddle-bags stuffed with extra food supplies. Reaching the "turn-off" at the foot of the ranges, he turned into the scrub, in obedience to Patrickson 's directions to avoid the beaten track. It was Patrickson 's hope that they would meet Lucky before he entered the scrub, but, reaching the turn-off, they saw that they were too late, for his tracks were plainly seen in the soft earth. 85 86 THE SELECTOE They dismounted here, to rest their horses and dis- cuss the situation. First, however, the old man turned to Yates, and, pointing down the track for Ringari, he uttered the one word "Git!" Woolham was really sorry for Yates, but Patrickson was in command, and he and Stuart could only busy themselves with their saddle-straps, and look the other way. Yates, with a muttered curse, mounted his horse, and obeyed the expressive colonial word ' ' Git ! ' ' "It's not a matter of the reward now," said the leader, "or even of taking the outlaws with as little risk as possible. It's a question whether we are to be laughed at for the rest of our lives. It is certain to get out that we've been after the outlaws, and might have taken them. ' ' Strategy was cast to the winds, and the men deter- mined to overtake Lucky by the most direct way, and then follow the bushrangers. So the men rode smartly on, following the tracks of Lucky. Suddenly rifle fire broke in upon the stillness of the morning. "He has stuck them up," said Patrickson. "Or they have stuck him up," rejoined Woolham, who feared for Lucky. Spurring their horses, they plunged madly on in the direction of the sounds, for quite a fusilade of shots had continued. In his eagerness, which seemed to communicate itself A FIGHT TO THE DEATH 87 to Vixen, "Woolham had got a long away ahead, when Patrickson gave the word ' ' Halt ! ' ' "Fasten your horses up to saplings, so that they cannot break away in the noise of the firing. Get them as much under cover as you can. We must finish this work on foot," said the old man. Woolham was rather too far forward to get the bene- fit of this advice, but he dismounted when he saw the others dismounting. Now the three men began to work their way cautious- ly through the scrub, rifle in hand, towards the rifle fire, until at last they knew that they were in the zone of operations, though they could as yet see no one. Evidently the combatants were fighting under cover. "Woolham was very anxious to know whether Lucky was safe. All depended on whether he had discerned the outlaws first. But Patrickson impressed upon the two that they must now play the game of patience; so the three, keeping separate and moving as much as possible under cover, advanced cautiously. Then a shot flashed out, and, following the course of the fire, they guessed that it was Lucky who had fired, for there was a noise among the bushes, and they caught a fleeting glimpse of the two outlaws seeking fresh cover. They had evidently noted the arrival of reinforce- ments, and were intent on retiring in such a way as to keep the parties separate, for the three newcomers were at right angles to Lucky 's hiding-place. Too impetuous, in his desire to get near Lucky, "Wool- ham now exposed himself for a moment, and shots from the outlaws rang out, coming pretty close. 88 THE SELECTOE Patrickson and Stuart replied, but they could see no one, and their object was more to disconcert the outlaws, and prevent them taking good aim again. "They will get away if we are not careful," whis- pered Patrickson to Stuart. ' ' Look here ; we must draw their fire. ' ' Patrickson then put his hat upon a bough which was screened by a big bush. To the bush he tied the end of a ball of string, and the two men, crawling through the bush, unrolled the string. When at some distance, Patrickson said: "Now, when I pull the bush, they'll fire; spot them, and get a good shot in." At the pulling of the string the bushes moved as though a man were advancing, and, seeing the top of the hat, both the outlaws fired, exposing themselves in doing so sufficiently to make a target. At that moment Stuart fired, and a sharp cry of pain, accompanied by a muttered curse, suggested that the shot had got home. Both the men now fired as fast as they could, and Lucky joined in the attack, but the outlaws remained hidden. The game of patience might have continued for a long time, only that Vixen, alarmed at the noise of firing, broke away from the dead tree to which Wool- ham had unwisely fastened her. A sapling would have yielded to the movements of the horse, but no halter or reins will hold an excited horse, if it can get a fair strain upon it. With neck arched and nostrils dilated, the beautiful animal pranced right into view among the men, snort- A FIGHT TO THE DEATH 89 ing in its excitement, and looking round, probably for her master. The vindictive spirit of the bushrangers yielded to the temptation, and a shot rang out, and with a cry of pain the horse jumped forward. Blood ran down the neck of the mare where she had been hit. Maddened by the sight, Woolham cast all precau- tions away, and dashed forwards towards the outlaws, who fired at him again and again. One shot carried away his hat and grazed his fore- head, but he dashed on. Stuart and Patrickson had now perforce to follow his example, and so the three charged the aborigines. Well was it now for the three that one of the outlaws was liors-de-combat. The men came on so fast that soon they were in close contact with the aborigines, and Patrickson, clubbing his rifle, managed to strike the outlaw, who was in the act of bringing his gun to the aim again. In another second Woolham had him by the throat. Rapidly disarming the man, Patrick- son strapped his arms behind his back. The other bushranger lay dead. He had been first hit by Stuart, and in the fusillade which had followed that ruse he had been hit a second time. Lucky had taken no pa39 The direct road to Munilla, the abolition of all public and private gates on that road, the new name for Gum Flat, the need of a Post and Telephone Office were once again burning questions pressing for settle- ment. Patrickson saw that the situation demanded all his strategy. The selector was perplexed. He 'and Bessie were to be married in a month, and, whilst his relation to Bessie's parents was sacred, he could not turn his back on his old friends and their projects. Patrickson and Lucky, for the first time, abandoned the selector to his dilemma, but the two had many a secret talk about the situation and its solution. Out of these talks sprang a series of strategic moves which fitly crowned Patrickson 's career as a diploma- tist. To begin with, he artfully canvassed all the sub- jects to be discussed at the meeting, suggesting casually his own ideas. Later in the conversation, or on a second visit, when his own ideas were mentioned again, he recognised them as original and brilliant sugges- tions on the part of those to whom he spoke. Conse- quently each member awaited the meeting with antici- pation, knowing that he had the key to this difficulty or that. He was ably supported in this work of preparation by his faithful lieutenant, Lucky, whose cheerful tact was a great asset in the problem. As the conspirators had foreseen, a great crowd turned up to the meeting. 240 THE SELECTOR Patrickson had marshalled all his forces, and though the selector was ill at ease in the chair, the meeting made steady progress. Brief speeches were the order of the day, and reso- lutions were passed reaffirming Gum Flat's policy of progress. It was on the election of a new president that Pat- rickson 's strategy came out in full flower. "Mr. Chairman," he said, "there is one man, whom some of us have thought of for this office next year. He is the oldest settler amongst us, and the first pioneer of this district. He is one of the hardest hitters and most obstinate of fighters ; but he is no worse for that. When we have him battling at our head we shall soon get all we want. I have great pleasure in moving that we elect Mr. Stuart of Ringari as the president of the Gum Flat Progress Committee." Loud cheers greeted this resolution, which, to the selector's surprise, was seconded by a settler whom he had never known to say a good word for the squatter before. When this had been carried unanimously, the selec- tor, with relief, began to see which way the clouds would break. Next the name for the new township was discussed. It had been well canvassed, and when one of Mr. Stuart's erstwhile detractors, who fondly imagined himself to be the author of the idea, rose to move that the Government be requested to officially name the township " Stuartville, " no one was surprised but Woolham, and he was gratified. But they were THE FOUNDING OF STUABTVTLLE 241 not to have a unanimous vote. They had not converted old Mr. Smythe, who moved that the township be named "Woolham." How far this matter would have gone it was hard to say, but that Woolham himself, whilst thanking Mr. Smythe for the compliment, appealed to him to give them a unanimous vote for Stuartville. Having reached the end of the business, Patrickson rose