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Philosopher Dick

Chapter XV

page 407

Chapter XV.

Off at last! Raleigh joined a party that was leaving after shearing, and which accompanied a train of four bullock-drays laden with wool.

Although glad to get away from associations which had grown to be irksome and distasteful to him, yet his final experiences at parting were not of unmixed satisfaction. He had left "settling up" to the last, and when Mr. Dale handed him a cheque for the balance due to him, he found to his astonishment and disgust that it was only for about half the amount which he had expected to receive. The fact was that the philosopher, unmindful as usual of agreements and pecuniary matters, had never made any definite terms for his services on the station, but had left it with his employer to pay him according to his deserts.

Such arrangements are generally unsatisfactory, and the present case was no exception to the rule. For the first year of what he might consider his apprenticeship, Raleigh did not expect much remuneration, for he had then much to learn, but after page 408that period he had performed the regular work of one of the shepherds, and he naturally expected to receive a shepherd's wages. Mr. Dale, however, who was great on financial matters, had, by some process of calculation known only to himself, arrived at a very different conclusion. He had been pleased to look upon his young kinsman as a cadet, whom he deigned to honour with a certain amount of patronage and consideration, of which the money value, for everything according to Mr. Dale had a money value, might fairly be deducted from the salary attached to the office. Possibly he may have considered that the practical knowledge which the philosopher had acquired in the noble art of sheep-farming was a set-off to be allowed for in reckoning up the account. At any rate he succeeded in bringing about a satisfactory settlement, both as regards his purse and his conscience.

Raleigh was deeply mortified. His first impulse was to fling the money at the old man's head, accompanied with a vigorous expression of his outraged feelings. His next thought was to refuse payment on such terms, to assert his rights, and to threaten exposure and legal proceedings. But on further reflection he decided to pocket both the cheque and the imposition, and to think no more about it. It page 409was one of his pet theories that most of the vexations endured in life were of our own making—nay, of our own seeking. Thus, in the present case he would argue as follows:—

To be robbed is an evil. There could be no doubt about that, but (the philosophical spirit always shows itself in buts), any evil is measured by its extent, and the extent of the evil is dependent, not on the actual value of the thing abstracted, but on, first, the fancied price set upon the article; second, the amount of vexation indulged in over its loss.

Now, by cutting down the estimate under the first head to the lowest possible figure, and dispensing altogether with the second factor, it is evident that the evil admits of being reduced to an infinitesimal, which, as they say in the calculus, may be neglected.

And thus it happens that a man may be robbed and yet be none the worse; but then—the man must be a philosopher.

For the time being Raleigh was disposed to be happy; the gloom which had hung over his late existence had dispersed, he was experiencing a delightful sensation of release from bondage, and the wide world once more appeared bright and hopeful before him. Was he to mar this happiness? He was wise enough to know that a violent altercation page 410with his late employer would occasion heartburnings and bitter resentments, and would certainly upset his equanimity, without perhaps leading to any practical results. Most people would have "had it out" nevertheless. Raleigh did not "bottle it up," for that would have been worse. He simply stifled it.

He was fond of boasting that he had never made an enemy; but that is a principle that cannot be carried out through life without numerous sacrifices to temper and interest. But he was true to his colours in the present emergency; he parted friends with selfish people who had not been friends to him, and he felt much happier in forgiving and forgetting than he could have been in resenting and denouncing their sordid treatment.

To return to the travellers. The party comprised also Mr. Jim Flash, who was desirous of exchanging the monotony of station life for a taste of town dissipation; the anxious bricklayer, who was going to make the necessary arrangements for his projected happy union; a couple of tradesmen, one of whom had his wife and child with him; and a number of shearers.

The woman and her charge were perched on the top of an immense pile of wool-bales, standing at least ten feet from the ground, where they rode in state page 411with more prominence than comfort. The men for the most part walked leisurely along in groups, or might ride on the pole of a dray.

The caravan moved very slowly. The bullocks could only drag their ponderous load at a sluggish pace, ample feeding-time had to be allowed them, and many stoppages by the way, so that the day's journey only averaged about fifteen miles. It was a tedious rate of progress, but people were accustomed to take their time in those days. There was no great need of hurry—perhaps there rarely is, when life is properly considered.

Mr. Jim Flash, who was always intent on driving or taking the lead wherever he went, could not be happy without handling the whip. He soon got charge of a team, and was loud in expatiating on the art of bullock-punching while exhibiting his address with the flagellator. All went well along the level road, until the party reached the banks of Stony River.

There no difficulty was apprehended, for the river was low and the ford was a good one. Long Bill led the way, and piloted his team successfully across the stream; the next two drays followed with ease, both being conducted by skilful drivers, but Mr. Flash's bullocks did not proceed so smoothly.

They were dull and heavy, but steady brutes, more page 412than commonly impassive, and to all appearances quite unmindful of the many flips and taunts administered to them by their amateur driver. But bullocks, although stupid-looking animals, and not quick of apprehension, have often proved themselves capable of taking in a good deal in a quiet way. Slow, but sure, they cogitate over their reflections on men and things in general with the same leisurely phlegm which they show in the mastication of their food. Being, at the same time, the most patient of all beasts of burden, they are ever prepared to wait their opportunity, and they will carry a grudge as demurely as they will carry a packsaddle. On the present occasion the members of the team, one and all, had evidently but a poor opinion of the capabilities of their new conductor; his showy style and loud bragging had not imposed upon them, however much it may have been appreciated by more superficial observers. The bullocks took to the water without any demur; they steadily pulled their load across the deepest part of the river, until they reached some broad shallows, where they stood in the stream knee-deep, and where the site appeared to them a convenient resting-place. There they came to a standstill. The sun was blazingly hot overhead, the water delightfully cool underneath. The stream rippled and sparkled under their page 413noses, and it was no wonder that they should lower their shaggy heads and drink gustfully of the refreshing fluid.

They dallied over it; they sipped it, they chewed it, they sported with it; they showed an inclination to linger over the feast much longer than their driver's patience admitted of. Mr. Flash soon got angry; he indulged in profane language; he cracked his whip, no longer artistically, but with a will; he plied the lash vigorously on the animals that were within his reach, but all to no avail. The placid creatures were not to be easily disturbed from their luscious enjoyment. The team would not budge an inch, and the longer the stubborn brutes remained in the water the better they seemed to like it.

After a while they began splashing about, and going through some ominous antics which struck a thrill of horror through their distracted driver. A cold shiver shook him, a terrible apprehension filled his heart, for it looked as if the "tamnation critters" were actually contemplating to lie down. It was but too true! First one, then another, in calm beatitude bent their knees, and brought themselves gently and gracefully into a reclining posture. There they lay, comfortably immersed, with only their heads above water, watching between their sips, with stolid complacency, the furious contortions of their conductor.

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He, poor fellow, raved like a madman; he called down all the curses of flaming perdition on their impassive heads; he roared, he foamed at the mouth, but they heeded it not. His whip was soaking wet, and useless in his hands; it merely flopped the bubbling water and tickled the bathers.

The men on the opposite bank congregated to the river's edge, and watched the course of events with interest, but nobody cared to go to the rescue.

So they stood and shouted words of advice, which, as they all spoke together, caused a Babel of tongues, which mingled with the roar of the waters, made a distracting row, and still further exasperated the unfortunate object of their solicitude.

Jim Flash had begun by losing his temper; he next lost his head; he ended by losing his hat, which he had flung from him in a paroxysm of rage, and which the flowing current swiftly bore out of sight, amidst the jeers of the lookers-on. Exhausted nature could stand it no longer; the strain was too much even for his iron nerves. Jim Flash, the mighty swell, the man of valour and the confidential friend of Tom Sawyers, the horsey man, the knowing one—Jim Flash went flop down on the pole of the dray, rammed his knuckles into his eyes, and—blubbered.

At last another figure suddenly hove in sight. It page 415was the ungainly form of Long Bill, approaching with rapid strides. He rushed down the river bank, his huge arms waving wildly above his head, his sinuous lash thundering in the air, his face flushed with fury, and his bloodshot eyes staring fiercely. Then he roared forth a tornado of dreadful oaths, that silenced the hubbub around, and pierced the din of rolling waters.

The recumbent cattle pricked up their ears at the awful sound, and they turned their startled gaze towards the terrible apparition, then seized with a common panic they all scrambled to their feet and made headlong for the shore.

In another moment the dray was safely landed on the dry ground, and Long Bill, with a sardonic grin at the discomfited figure of the swell bullock-puncher, turned on his heel and went back to his own team.

The party spent their first night at Flaxhill station, where they arrived about sundown. The men, as usual, asked permission to "spread their blankets" in the wool-shed, while the two "swells" were invited by the manager to somewhat better accommodation at his own quarters. All, however, were made welcome in the rough and hearty style of the bush, and partook à discrétion of such fare as could be provided for them. Mr. Flash, who had not yet recovered from page 416his late fiasco, and was sick of bullocks, succeeded in borrowing a horse, and for the remainder of the journey he parted company with, the caravan; but Raleigh stuck to his mates, and trudged contentedly along.

It was a monotonous journey, their course lying mostly across far-reaching yellow plains, without shade or shelter. But the sun shone brightly, a warm effulgence glowed from a clear blue sky, the air was fresh and bracing, and the boundless outlook inspired a sense of freedom and exhilaration. With light hearts and keen appetites they sauntered complacently along, with a devil-me-care indifference to time and space, happy in the want of thought, and often enlivening the passing hour with a song. Stoppages were frequent, when the tired cattle would lie down under their yokes, chewing the cud, while their masters would strive to imitate their placid insensibility, stretched under the shade of the big drays, watching the billy boil, and ruminating over their pipes in peace. Rest, blissful rest! Is it possible to have too much of it? Apparently the travellers did not think so, for it was always difficult to rouse them from their pleasing apathy.

During these tranquil spells from the jogging march they would often indulge in friendly confabs concern-page 417ing the trivial incidents of their simple lives, their hopes and prospects, while occasionally some thrilling yarn, known to all present to be a tissue of lies, but none the less appreciated on that account, would be retailed with much gusto. Raleigh was always an attentive listener, and he would often put in a word to enliven the conversation. He was looked upon as a "scholard"—that is, an authority on all matters of doubt or dispute, and was frequently called upon to assume the judgment seat, lay down the law, and decide knotty points.

The amorous bricklayer was the most reticent of the lot. He was naturally a man of action, but of few words. He had but little to say on most subjects, and that little was delivered laconically. It was the general opinion that he thought all the more, but doubtless at that time he was wrapped up in delightful cogitation about his future bliss. A man about to be married may be allowed to be taciturn, yet Bricky's powers of fascination, so successful with the fair, did not seem to be equally appreciated by his own sex, for he was generally voted to be a dull fellow. Once, and only once, during the journey, he ventured to unburden his mind, and that was in a private chat with the philosopher.

"I suppose you know," he said, "that I am about page 418to get married. I made it all right with Susy before I left."

"Happy man!" ejaculated the other.

"I hope so," said the bricklayer.

"You ought to be sure of it," replied the philosopher,

"Well," continued the love-stricken swain rather dubiously, "I suppose it's the right thing to do."

"There is neither right nor wrong about it," sententiously observed the philosopher, as he blew a long whiff of smoke from his pipe.

"Wouldn't you advise a young man to get married, then?" inquired the engaged one, with a rather crestfallen look.

"My good fellow, there is no advice to be given on a matter of that sort. I can only repeat the words of the wisest of men, who, when asked a similar question, replied, "Whether you get married or remain single, you will live to repent it."

"Was that Solomon?" asked the bricklayer.

"No; a much wiser man than he—Socrates."

"Strange; I never even heard of him," remarked the bricklayer, with a puzzled look.

"I don't think it strange at all," replied the philosopher complacently.

"But what does the Bible say?" continued the bricklayer triumphantly: "Be fruitful, and multiply, page 419and replenish the earth. If people didn't get married, and so on, why, the world would come to an end. That would be a bad job."

"That is just the question," replied the philosopher sedately. "Some people think it would be a very good job. There would be less of you to be damned hereafter. In any case the world is bound to come to an end some day, that's certain; a few thousand years sooner or later can't make much difference. However, that is a matter upon which I would not advise you to fret your brains. You were not consulted about the design of the universe, and you are not called upon to exert yourself to keep it going. Be modest, young man, and do not aim so high. Besides, when you come to think about it, how do you know that by getting married you will be fruitful and multiply? You take a great deal for granted. You might go through all the trouble for nothing."

"It won't be my fault if we don't," said the bricklayer stoutly.

"Just so, but then you see it requires two to bring it about."

"Well, I suppose we must take our chance about that."

"I fear so," said the philosopher gravely. "According to the Jewish law a man could put away his wife page 420for barrenness, but we have reversed all that, and now-a-days it is only the woman who can repudiate her husband for incompetence."

"That hardly seems fair" remarked the bricklayer moodily.

The philosopher merely shrugged his shoulders. "Que voulez-vous," he said. "These things change about according to prevailing notions. There used to be an ancient custom, called hand-binding, by which people could make pretty certain concerning these little arrangements beforehand, but that too has gone out of date."

"What was that?" inquired the bricklayer eagerly.

"Well, you see, instead of beginning by the church they finished up there. It all came to the same thing in the end, but the process was reversed. The sacred tie was the consummation, so to speak."

"Susy would never agree to anything of that sort," expostulated the bricklayer vehemently; "she is very partic'lar."

"She would be a fool if she did," replied the other quietly. "But still, if people are intent on carrying out that fundamental commandment you just quoted—— It was probably that holy intention," he added with a smile, "that induced so many of our puritanical fathers to adopt the hand-page 421binding system. But I prefer the advice of Mephistopheles—

'Habt Ihr Euch Iieb
Thut keinem Dieb
Nur nichts zu Lieb,
Als mit dem Ring am Finger.'

It's devilish practical."

"I don't understand nothing of your outlandish jargon," exclaimed the bricklayer; "but don't you think now that it will be a good match? Susy is a sensible girl, and I believe will make a true wife."

"No doubt about it, my boy. She is nice-looking too, only"—

"Only what? Speak out, man! I don't mind."

"Well, I was going to observe, nice-looking, but rather—what shall I say?—highly coloured, you know."

"Is that all!" cried the bricklayer, with a loud laugh. "Is that all! Oh, we have settled that little matter already. I made her promise that after we are spliced there's to be no more rouge and powder business."

"Then," said the philosopher, shaking him by the hand, "let me heartily congratulate you. In these times of deception and artifice it must be a great consolation to know that one has a wife without any paint."

page 422

The third day brought the travellers to the first accommodation-house on the road. It was a large one-storied wooden building, bare and unsightly, and standing by itself on a wide reach of arid plains. It comprised an open bar, a capacious public room, and a number of sleeping apartments, all naked and dismal in their furnishings, but provided with as many stretcher beds as could be crammed into them. The kitchen and some little outhouses stood a short way off at the back.

Even from a distance it became evident that the place was fully occupied. Several drays were drawn up in front of the house, the stock-yard close by was full of bullocks, and several horses were tied up to the verandah posts. A gang of shearers could be noticed staggering about the premises, while the squeaking sound of a German concertina, the shuffling of feet, and a loud hubbub of voices greeted the travellers on their approach.

"We are in for a wet night," said Long Bill, with a knowing glance at the scene.

"It looks like it," replied Raleigh, as he watched the dark clouds gathering at the horizon.

On closer inspection a repellant and disgusting sight was brought to view.

Before the front-door a fight was going on between page 423two half-naked and infuriated ruffians, surrounded by a gesticulating and yelling crowd of onlookers, A few steps off a man was lying dead-drunk across the road, with his head bare and half-buried in the mud. Close by two fuddled sots, with faces flushed crimson and besmeared with blood, were effecting a reconciliation after a tussle, as they hugged and be-slobbered one another with tipsy effusion. Others, lying about the place in various stages of intoxication, greeted the new arrivals with a stare of brutal indifference, or else howled forth discordant yells of welcome.

From the inside came forth a deafening clamour, in which snatches of song, shrieked forth with stentorian vigour and frequent outbursts of horrible blasphemy, predominated. A stench of stale beer and other foul odours emanated from the bar premises, dust and dirt covered all, while swarms of flies filled the air and blackened the ceilings.

The travellers alighted, and made inquiries as to what accommodation they might expect to get in the establishment.

Mine host, who appeared in his shirt-sleeves, with a very flushed face and a very jovial air, informed them that he would do his best—he could do no more—and that they would have to be satisfied with what they would get.

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"We are full up just now," he remarked, "and the boys are having a merry bout of it, such a spree, but a score of them will be carted off to-night to James' Station, and then I shall be able to find bunks for some of you; the rest will have to take shake-downs on the floor. As for the lady, she had better turn in with my missus over the way, as this shop ain't no place for a female."

Raleigh and his mates were soon surrounded by a group of the rowdy company and called upon to drink, as a preliminary to having "a shout" for all hands in return. An invitation that it was not easy nor very safe to decline. To refuse outright was to provoke a quarrel, and any attempt at shirking one's fair share of liquoring up was certain to bring down the indignation of the assembled crew. The professed teetotaller might, indeed, escape imbibing stimulants by the substitution of other vile decoctions of ginger and lemonade, but drink of some kind or another every one was compelled to swallow.

Drink, the besetting curse of the whole community, was there nakedly apparent in its most ghastly and appalling aspects. A hideous abomination, to turn the stomach and strike horror into the mind.

Drink! in the early morn; looming forth like a page 425cadaverous spectre, cringing, craving, with trembling limb, haggard look, and parched lips.

Drink! through the livelong day; a rampant maniac, bloated and reeking, savage and foul-mouthed, yelling forth obscenity and drivel, or sunk into brutishness. Drink! in the dismal night; a loathsome monster, wallowing in filth, or struck down into grovelling insensibility.

Drink, evermore drink! Day after day, month after month, the same disgusting orgies; the same howling, the same foulness, the same shocking depravity.

Raleigh turned away in abhorrence from the sickening spectacle, and sought for some place of refuge where he might close his senses to the horrors of the situation.

He would willingly have fled out into the open, but there all was darkness and desolation.

A cold southerly blast swept over the wide barren plain, where not a tree could be seen or the smallest shelter was available. Black clouds rolled overhead, and soon the rain began to fall in drenching showers, and the rising gale blustered and moaned over the wilderness.

He groped about the premises, seeking in vain for some quiet corner. Round the outhouses and along the dark verandah he stumbled across the prostrate page 426forms of drunken men; one shivering wretch was chattering in the horrors, another besotted driveller croaked forth a melancholy ditty, while several more lay about, exposed to all the inclemency of the weather. Nobody heeded them. There being no peace or rest to be found anywhere, the unfortunate philosopher asked to be shown to his bedroom, and after considerable delay he was conducted to a low-roofed apartment containing five beds, of which three were already occupied.

In the one he recognised the features, almost undistinguishable through prolonged intemperance of a shepherd from a neighbouring run. A debased object, from which he shrank back with a feeling of disgust. The wretched man had been for a month "on the spree," and during that time had lavished away on drink the earnings of two years. At least, such was the landlord's account of the transaction. The landlord, having stripped his victim of all his belongings, now proposed flinging his almost inanimate body on to the first up-country dray, to be carted back to domicile, there to recover at leisure.

Such was an every-day occurrence.

On two of the other beds the occupants seemed to be sleeping off the effects of liquor, and were snoring vigorously. The atmosphere of the room was hor-page 427ribly tainted, and Raleigh felt compelled to beat a hasty retreat into the open air, and even preferred returning once more into the howling pandemonium of the drinking-bar.

In pure self-defence he had to partake of the noxious stimulants; but even the mighty "nobblers" seemed powerless to rouse him into any participation with the noisy revellers. He sat apart, and watched in sadness and disgust. At last, in answer to anxious inquiries, he ascertained that there was an outhouse where he could find shelter and solitude. This was the chaff-house, an iron shed half-filled with horse-feed, without windows or furnishings of any kind, and inhabited by rats alone. But Raleigh considered their company to be much preferable to that of his intoxicated brethren, and he gladly availed himself of this refuge. The gale shook the frail shell of the building, the rain pattered on the iron covering with a deafening noise, and a cold draught swept through it, but the exhausted traveller welcomed the retreat with delight and thankfulness. He prepared himself a bed on the clean hay, fastened the door against intrusion, and, completely enveloped in his warm opossum rug, he was soon immersed in happy oblivion.

Next morning the journey was resumed, but under less favourable conditions. The demon drink had page 428laid hold of two amongst the party, and held them in bondage vile; others had only been scorched in the fire, but they showed the effects of the night's dissipation in moodiness and fatigue.

One of the drivers had lost his bullocks, and he did not appear in any great hurry to find them again. He had to be left behind.

The party was broken up, so was its former tranquillity and content. The first contact with civilisation had struck them with a bane, and marred the cheerful serenity of their wandering life.

The weather too was unpropitious. A strong gale blew in their faces, accompanied with a pelting rain. The sun was hidden behind black clouds, and the plains were obscured in a cold mist. It was dreary work, plodding sluggishly along the muddy track in cold and wet. The drays rolled heavily along at a snail's pace, splashing through swampy pools, and sometimes getting stuck fast in yielding ground. Camping out now became a very unpleasant business; grumbling and discontent found expression at every turn, and loud curses were vented on the discomforts and tediousness of the journey. It may here be remarked that when sentimental writers indulge in gushing effusions concerning the irresistible fascination of savage life, breathing the sweet incense of page 429nature, and exulting in a sense of boundless freedom, and so on, it would be well for them to add as a qualification—during fine weather.

It makes all the difference. A howling sou'-wester may bring about an entire change of front, and cause a violent revulsion in the most high-flown sentiments; we turn our inspired faces away, and in stooping posture present the other side to its blustering embraces. Even poetry, exalted to the skies, and ready to brave fire and thunder, cannot stand a ducking. It has been said that the savage and nomadic origin of our species may be inferred from the innate exhilaration which most people experience in reverting to outdoor existence, and especially in spending a night under the open heavens.

This may be correct enough while the heavens are warm and beaming, not otherwise. We adore nature in her sweetness and smiles, but when she rages and shakes and spits at us we fly from her as far as we can get—even into the arms of a degrading civilisation.

Raleigh had started on his journey with the firm resolve of doing it in true bushman's style, braving the elements and marching stolidly by the side of his bullock dray even into the heart of the city. But he thought fit to change his mind before he bad gone half the way. At the very first opportunity he page 430"stuck up the mail," not with any felonious intent, but merely to secure a passage to town. It was a miserable rattletrap of a mail-coach, hardly fit to carry a litter of pigs to market, but it had a waterproof covering, and it travelled six miles an hour. These were points of a purely relative value, but as the philosopher was drenched and leg-weary, he was in a position to appreciate them.