Читать книгу Mount Abundance: or The Experiences of a Pioneer Squatter in Australia - Allan Macpherson - Страница 3

Table of Contents

A Picturesque Station—Pastures New—The Early Days of Squatting—A Roadless Journey—A Start—Two Months on the Road—The Beginning of Troubles—Lost Working Bullocks—The Expedition Recruited—St. George's Bridge—Pegging Away—The Party Divided—A Reconnaissance—The Natives—The Cogoon River—Mount Abundance—Return to Camp—The Land of Promise Reached at Last.

On looking over some old papers lately, I came across a journal of mine written upwards of thirty years ago, giving an account of the many difficulties and dangers which I experienced in taking up the now well-known pastoral station of Mount Abundance, in the colony of Queensland; and in the hope of its having sufficient interest to merit publication, I have compiled from this old diary the following narrative.

In the year 1847 I was a struggling young squatter (Anglicè, cattle and sheep owner) in the Gwydir district of New South Wales. My station, called Keera, was on the Gwydir or Bundarra River (it had both names), and was distant about three hundred miles from Newcastle, the seaport of the Hunter, which is about seventy miles by sea from Sydney, so I was already some little distance away from the capital.

My station, although of considerable extent (somewhere about a hundred square miles), was of a very hilly—I may almost say in parts mountainous—character, although the hills, dear to a Highlander by birth and descent, were very unlike true Highland hills, in that they were covered with grass and open forest to their summits. In short, Keera was justly described by a friend of mine as a highly picturesque, but by no means profitable, station—the reason being that it required too many shepherds and stockmen to look after my flocks and herds, and economy of expenditure was then, as now, the only mode of making squatting pay in Australia.

About the time I speak of, an old friend of my father's and mine—the late Sir Thomas Mitchell, then Surveyor-General of New South Wales—had just returned from one of his exploring expeditions into the interior of Australia, which particular expedition he described in a book he afterwards published in 1848, called "Tropical Australia," but long before he published the book he had inspired me with a most vehement desire to seek "pastures new" in the beautiful country which he had just discovered; but more particularly to sit down upon a particular tract of country, which he afterwards described in his work in the following glowing terms:—

"I ascended an elevated north-eastern extremity of Mount Abundance, and from it beheld the finest country I had ever seen in a primeval state—a champagne region, spotted with wood, stretching as far as human vision or even the telescope could reach. It was intersected by river lines from the North, distinguishable by columns of smoke. A noble mountain mass arose in the midst of that fine country, and was so elongated in a S.W. and N.E. direction as to deserve the name of a range."

Such a description was quite enough to inspire a sanguine young squatter with a desire to seek out this goodly land, and to possess it—the right of possession in those days, as to some extent at present, being first come first served, the exclusive right being granted by the Government to the first actual occupant with sheep and cattle; and the extent of his occupation being pretty much left to his own moderation, if he had any, which a good many of the earlier pioneers had not; and I am afraid I shall not be included amongst the most moderate. They have changed all this now, and new runs are put up for lease to the highest bidder, and are hemmed in with all sorts of regulations; and new runs are now so far distant in the interior, and are generally so badly watered and have so many disadvantages in comparison with the old ones, that they may be said to be like a certain Highland laird's geese, hard to get, and worth very little when they are got.

But it was not so in all the forties. The squatting districts of New South Wales and Queensland were still in their golden prime, and a very few thousands would then do the work in the way of founding a fortune which tens of thousands will not do now. But even then it will be seen that, although there were a good many prizes, there were a good many blanks too; and it was by no means the first pioneers who generally reaped the golden returns, but those who followed in their wake, and were prudent enough, and fortunate enough, to be able to profit by the labours and toils of those who had borne the first heat and burden of the day.

But I thought of none of these gloomy forebodings when I organised my first expedition to Mount Abundance in the middle of the year 1847. I obtained from Sir Thomas Mitchell a sketch of the route between the last occupied station in New South Wales and the Land of Promise which I proposed to occupy. The distance, after all, will not appear very great to people who are accustomed to railway journeys in this country, as the whole distance from Keera to Mount Abundance did not exceed 360 miles. But when it is remembered that there was not a mile of road (in the home sense of the term) the whole distance; that there was not the vestige of a bridge across a single river, creek, or gully crossing the line of march; that there were scrubs of all kinds to drive through—sometimes to cut through—for miles, and, added to all this, various waterless wastes of greater or less extent; when, on the whole, five miles a day was considered a good day's journey for cattle, sheep, and teams—when all these things are taken into account, the difficulties of such an expedition are by no means small, even when everything goes well and there is neither a drought nor a flood on the journey. I had my own share of both at different times—but this is anticipating.

My expedition started from Keera in the first days of July, 1847. It originally consisted of upwards of twenty men and a superintendent besides myself, of between eight and ten thousand sheep, of several hundred head of cattle (I do not now exactly remember the numbers of either), of four drays loaded with provisions drawn by ten working bullocks each, of a small horse team, and of a considerable number of saddle horses. As is usually the case in starting, the drays were fully too heavily laden, but I felt no doubt they would be lightened a good deal before they reached Mount Abundance—a prognostication which was very fully realised.

As a beginning of the end, I may say that it occupied nearly a fortnight to get the whole expedition a distance of about five-and-thirty miles—lost working bullocks, lost horses, lost cattle, and occasionally lost flocks of sheep or parts of them, forming the detaining causes; but lost working bullocks formed the greatest and most constantly recurring nuisance of all. At this time it was necessary for me to leave the expedition in charge of the superintendent, and to make a long journey on business into the Darling Downs district, with the certainty that I should catch up the expedition again long before it got into the new country.

I returned to the expedition after about a month's absence, during which time I had ridden on an average twenty-five to thirty miles a day, and three nights out of the four slept in the open air, which I preferred to the dirty huts I should otherwise have had to have slept in. I thought myself specially fortunate if my servant could find the horses in the morning without more than an hour's hunt for them, during which time I prepared our rather rough breakfast, or vice versâ. I find the following entry in the diary I always kept during these wearisome days: "21st August, 1847. Went thirty miles to-day, to Weyland's Creek, a station of Mr. Richard Wiseman's, and camped there. Heard dreadful news of my drays and expedition, viz., that two drays had been left behind, and that half the bullocks were lost and the other half knocked up." The vanguard of the party, stock, etc., had only advanced about one hundred miles in a week short of two months, being an average of about two miles and a half a day; and two of the drays were left behind about fifty miles for want of bullocks. Here was a pretty business, and did not look at all like reaching Mount Abundance in time for the lambing in October. However, there was nothing to be done by taking it easily. I accordingly find by another entry in my diary, 23rd August: "Sent back the superintendent to endeavour to get on the other drays, and I myself started on a search in the neighbourhood to endeavour to purchase or hire working bullocks to replace those lost, and to assist the miserable remains of those which were left." It will be remembered that they were forty strong, besides spare ones, at starting. These delays, and waiting till the superintendent came up with the two drays which had been left behind, occupied till the middle of September; and, as yet, we had not accomplished half the journey to Mount Abundance.

I had by this time succeeded in purchasing a fine team of four Clydesdale horses and a light dray, and rented one team of eight bullocks for the journey, and bought some others; and again my shattered expedition was somewhat recruited. But it was anything but plain sailing, even then. To begin with, the farther I got on, the more the men's fears began to grow, as I drew near to the confines of settlement—that is to say, towards the last occupied station on the line to the far North and West.

By the end of September I contrived, by great personal exertions, to force on the expedition to a natural rocky bar or ford across the River Balonne, which had been called by Sir Thomas Mitchell, St. George's Bridge. A station had recently been formed there for cattle, and it, and a neighbouring one, may be said to have then constituted the outstations of New South Wales. The St. George's Bridge station was distant about 220 miles from Keera, and I had still about 150 miles before me—between it and Mount Abundance. The intervening country was, at that time, wholly unoccupied by squatters, and bearing a somewhat evil reputation for the numbers and character of the natives scattered over its length and breadth. The fears of my men as to what might happen to them in venturing into an unknown country, or known only to Sir Thomas Mitchell and his party, increased daily. To say that they were mutinous and insolent, and willing to do anything whatever except to look after the stock and to do their work, is merely to say that they were what men generally are under similar circumstances. But although the expression of "pegging away" had not been invented in those days, the practice had, I can most positively answer in my own case, fortified also by the additional determination to "keep on never minding."

At St. George's Bridge, or a little beyond it, may be said to have been commenced our journey into the unoccupied interior. By this time the lambing season was approaching, and it was necessary to halt the ewes (about 5,000 in number) till this process was over.

The whole expedition accordingly proceeded some twenty miles higher up the Balonne River, where we erected temporary rough yards for drafting the sheep preparatory to the division of the expedition.

I left the superintendent in charge of the lambing sheep, and prepared to start with the remainder of the expedition for Mount Abundance under my own charge, aided by an overseer.

By this time it was the first week in October, upwards of three months having elapsed since the expedition first left Keera, and there were still about 130 miles to accomplish to reach our destination.

After proceeding a few stages on the road with the diminished party, matters getting on pretty well—although our progress was, as usual, very slow indeed—I determined to leave the second party in charge of the overseer, and to make a preliminary visit myself to Mount Abundance to see what the country was like, and what would be the best line of route for the drays and stock to take to get there. Accordingly, on the 11th of October I started on my exploring expedition, accompanied only by my personal servant.

I find from my old diary that we took no pack-horse, but simply carried our blankets and "about fifteen or sixteen pounds of damper, and a little bacon and some tea and sugar in our saddle-bags," and prepared for what turned out to be a ten days' absence from our party. We were, of course, armed also, but we might have just as well, in those days, gone quite unarmed. The natives were few in number, and I think we only came across small parties of them two or three times in the course of our expedition. Of course they could not understand us, or we them, but they seemed harmless enough, and to be a good deal more interested in our horses' heads than in ours—much surprised, apparently, that the voice came from the smallest head of the two.

The only precaution we took was to tether our horses at night instead of hobbling them or letting them graze loosely, as would have been the case at the camp. Here is a memo. of our fourth day, 14th October: "Had great trouble to-day with the horses. Having taken off the tethers while we were at breakfast, they strayed out of sight on stony ground where we could not track them, and at last, after a long hunt, we got them. Struck across the Cogoon River to explore the Balonne River, which I presumed to be not far off. Could not get across the range from the tremendously scrubby nature of the country. Returned, following a waterless gully, through fine but poorly watered country. Found horse tracks at junction, which I presumed to be either Dr. Leichhardt's¹ or Mr. Charles Coxen's, as they had both expressed their intention of exploring a road from Darling Downs to Fitzroy Downs. Camped a little above the junction of waterless gully."

[1. This was the well-known German explorer, who had already distinguished himself by several expeditions into the interior of Australia. He had just returned from the Gulf of Carpentaria, and was preparing to start on his last expedition into the far West, from which he and his party never returned. It was supposed they had all been killed by the blacks between one and two hundred miles to the westward of Mount Abundance, the last place at which he and his party were seen by white men, some time after the station had been formed by me, during one of my absences at Keera.]

"Friday, 15th October. Crossed the Cogoon River and came on the Eastern Downs, facing Mount Abundance. A glorious prospect! Certainly the most magnificent country burst upon view that it has ever been my lot to see in the colony of New South Wales, from North to South, from East to West. Truly, I was delighted, after all my troubles, to see the prospect of so splendid a termination, so far as a station, at all events, was concerned."

I spent this and the next two days in surveying the country round and in the neighbourhood of Mount Abundance, which I proposed to take up as a sheep and cattle station; and I may say, once for all, that the little farm which I subsequently claimed as a run, and which claim the Government subsequently recognised, consisted of about thirty miles' frontage (and say five to ten miles back) of the Cogoon River for a sheep station, and of twenty miles' frontage to the creek I subsequently found out was called the Bunjeywargorai Creek, on which, or near which, I think the modern township of Roma is situate. The whole run, including the intermediate downs, consisted of about 600 square miles, or say somewhere about 400,000 acres of the most beautiful land that ever sheep's eyes travelled over. Beautiful undulating downs covered with the richest barley grass, and intersected with creeks and gullies, with just enough timber on their banks to give the whole breadth of the downs—somewhere about twenty miles by thirty—the appearance of a few scores or hundreds of gentlemen's parks rolled into one. Such was my first impression of Mount Abundance.

On the ninth day I got back to the camp, and found they had not made much progress on their route to our destination, but still had not remained actually stock still during my absence.

Among the next entries in my journal, I find the following on the 24th October (1847): "For four months now I have been sleeping every night under the canopy of Heaven, with the exception of about ten days at intervals, as my journal will show; and still, thanks be to God, I preserve my health, and hope to continue to do so, although I suspect the next six months of my life will be passed in much the same manner."

Here is the next entry in my journal: "25th October. Some few blacks made their appearance in the evening, who fairly frightened my men into convulsions. I laughed at them as cowards and faint-hearted creatures, and, as I might have expected, got sulky looks and expressive growls for my pains. To show them how little I feared the blacks, I told my men that in the morning I intended to start ahead by myself, and to camp out alone for two or three nights, exploring the water, and finding out the best spot for forming the head station. One of the ringleaders remarked on this that 'if I was tired of my life, he was not tired of his.'"

I, however, contrived to get them into better spirits—or at all events better temper—and induced them to agree to move on, while I myself kept to my resolution to spend a night or two with the proposed object.

These are the next two entries I find worth quoting: "26th October. Started ahead by myself. Went in a straight direction to Mount Abundance, and then followed the river or water-course every mile of the way up to its head in Mount Bindyego. Found the water nearly run out at the place where Sir Thomas Mitchell's sketch no longer shows its course; then followed the river back to about four miles north of Mount Abundance. Camped there; saw blacks several times to-day, but had no intercourse with them." "Wednesday, 27th October. Started back to the drays and stock. Had an interview with thirty-two blacks (all men). My horse dreaded them very much, and the blacks seemed to dread him more than me, if possible. They were all armed, but seemed very well disposed, but in tremendous fear of my double-barrelled carbine, of myself, and of my horse. We, however, made signs to each other of peace—green bushes, etc.—and they knew the words 'white fellow' and 'wheelbarrow' (their corrupt word for drays)—words got from some semi-civilised tribes on the Lower Balonne—and after more chat and friendly signs I left them. Met the drays within about five miles of the spot I had fixed on for the head station, and I accordingly made them come on to-night, viz., to a bend of the river where there is a long reach of water, about one and a half miles south of the south spur of Mount Abundance."

Here was the advanced guard (so to speak) of the expedition arrived at the Land of Promise, and it now remains to be told what we did when we got there, and all that followed till the eventual break-up of the station.