Читать книгу Tales of the Colonies - Charles Rowcroft - Страница 13

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TAKES POSSESSION OF HIS NEW HOUSE--DELIGHT OF INDEPENDENCE--CRAB PUTS THE PLOUGH INTO THE GROUND--THE GARDEN, AND SHEEP-SHEARING--THE SETTLER TAKES STOCK AND MAKES A DISCOVERY.

March 29.--The nights begin to get cold; the children felt the change last night. Puzzled to contrive doors and shutters for the cottage.

March 30.--Crab returned with the bullock cart about mid-day. Told me there was a lot of sawed stuff just below the Green Ponds, which I might have if I liked at the cost price. This is just what I want for the doors and shutters of the house. Set Bob to work at the stone chimney; the whole end of the house and the chimney to be built of stone.

March 31.--Went down myself with Bob to the Green Ponds, with both carts and the eight bullocks. Drove one cart myself, and Bob the other. Find I'm a capital bullock-driver; no man knows what he can do till he tries. Bought the stuff, and brought it back the same day. The nights begin to get cold.

April 1.--Took possession of our new house, and worked hard at the doors and window-shutters. Frost at night.

April 2.--All hands at the stone chimney. Made a rough job of it, but got on pretty well. The stone is easy to work, it easily breaks into flakes handy for working; as for mortar, we use some sandy loam mixed with clay from the river, and it seems to make cement good enough for our purpose.

April 3 and 4.--Finished the stone chimney, and lighted a blazing fire, for the nights are cold now; and with our large table in the middle of the room, with Betsy's green cloth on it, and seated on our logs of wood, we formed a cheerful party at supper.

April 5.--Rose early, according to my custom, and surveyed my new dwelling with a particular sort of satisfaction. "No rent to pay for you," said I; "no taxes, that's pleasant; no poor-rates, that's a comfort; and no one can give me warning to quit, and that's another comfort; and it's my own, thank God, and that's the greatest comfort of all." I cast my eyes on the plain before me, and saw my flock of sheep studding the plain, with my working bullocks at a little distance. My dogs came up and licked my hands. Presently my children came out into the fresh morning air, which was rather bracing, as the weather was getting colder every day in the morning and evening, but still warm in the middle of the day, and we had a romp with the dogs. As we sat at breakfast that morning in our rude cottage, with the bare walls of logs of trees and the shingle roof above us, all rough enough, but spacious, and a little too airy, I began to have a foretaste of that feeling of independence and security of home and subsistence which I have so many years enjoyed in a higher degree than I then looked for; but I must not anticipate.

Finished all the doors and shutters, and put on good fastenings of bolts and locks which I had brought from England.

April 6.--Considered in my mind whether it would not be well to turn up some ground to sweeten ready for spring sowing in September. The winter frosts, should there be any, of June, July, and August, would pulverize the clods a bit. I can't help smiling while I write this of June, July, and August, being the winter months; it shows how topsy-turvy things are here. Consulted Crab about it, for he understands farming well. Crab says there must be something wrong about it; he cannot understand how I can pretend to have a SPRING sowing in SEPTEMBER! "It's against reason," he says, "and against nature, and he can't encourage such nonsense."

April 7.--Thought I'd try a bit of land about a quarter of a mile from the house, and that lay handy for fencing--about twelve acres. Stuck the plough into it this morning, and it turned up rarely. Crab came to laugh at us. I saw he eyed the furrows wistfully, and cast a longing look at the plough. At last he grew very fidgetty, and taking occasion to find fault with the furrows for not being straight, he seized hold of the shafts, shoving me aside without much ceremony, saying, "Heaven be good to us! do you call that ploughing? Here, give us hold." His grim visage seemed actually to change and light up when he felt the wood in his hands, and giving the word, Bob smacked on the bullocks, and Crab, in the exuberance of his joy, began to sing some extraordinary Shropshire song, which made the woods ring again, and the work went on merrily. From that hour Crab would allow no one to touch the plough but himself, and he really seemed to enjoy his work with all the relish of an unexpected restoration to an old and loved occupation.

The ground was quite clear of trees, and with out many stones, and in little more than a fortnight the whole was turned up. Then we set to, to cut down the light timber in the vicinity to make a bush fence, which employed us for some time. After that, we worked hard to fence in a bit of ground for a garden. We had to go rather farther from home after some stringy-bark trees best for splitting laths, and contrived to enclose about an acre. Then we had a stock-yard to build, and pens for the sheep, and to fence it with bush fences. Building the stock-yard was hard work, as we had to form it of the solid trunks of trees, about nine inches to a foot in diameter, and from twenty to thirty feet long; these we had to drag by bullock-chains and four bullocks, from a spot about a mile and a half from the house: heavy work, and hard labour to set them up. I determined to do every thing well, and in such a way as to fall in with my plan of the future farm and buildings. All this work, and the sending of the cart three times to Camp to bring up various articles, occupied the whole of the winter months, of June, July, and August.

In the spring, that is, in September, I sowed the whole of my twelve acres, after giving them another ploughing, with the best seed wheat I could get, casting it pretty thickly, and allowing two bushels and a quarter to the acre, which Crab thought too much. This seed cost me twelve shillings a bushel. I might have waited, I found afterwards, till October or November, but I thought it best to sow too early rather than too late.

At the latter end of this month, taking advantage of the dry days, seeing that the weather was mild, I sowed the various seeds in the garden which it is usual to sow in the spring in England.

I ought to say here, that I found the winter very mild. The snow lay on the ground once for three days, about two inches thick, and there was ice strong enough to bear in one or two places, in a deep hollow about three miles from the cottage, which the rays of the sun did not reach. The mornings and evenings were cold, particularly just before daylight, when the cold was sharpest, but the middle of the day was like a bright October day in England. There is very little rain in the autumn in Van Diemen's Land, that is, from the beginning of March to the end of May; and not much rain during the winter months of June, July, and August. The rainy season is for about six weeks or two months in the spring, that is, in September and October.

November 1.--My one hundred and eighty ewes, which I bought last March, have produced me two hundred and twenty lambs, many having dropped two lambs a-piece. I trust the wool will be improved, as I had taken care to choose the best rams I could find shortly after I bought them. This makes my flock look respectable.

This month I bought six cows heavy with calf, for four pounds each. They are fine cows, but rather wild. Applied for another servant from the government, and had assigned to me a tolerably good one, but he knows nothing of farming. We find now that we have plenty to do. My poor wife works hard, for the female servants are generally idle, troublesome things. Her mother, however, helps her with the children.

Got the windows of the cottage glazed, and covered the floor all over with boards, and put boards over our heads for a ceiling. The shepherd found some whitish earth, like whiting, about six miles from the cottage. I had long since plastered it inside and out with sand and river clay, and now I gave it a coat of this whitewash outside, which gave it a very smart appearance. For the inside, I mixed with the white earth some of the red ochre which is abundant in many parts of the country: this produced something of a salmon colour, and the plaster being smooth, the ochre gave it the appearance of stucco, and it looked very well and seemly.

We begin to think something of ourselves, and should assume airs of importance, only there is no one near us to show them to.

December.--Month for sheep-shearing. Rather light-handed for this work. Washed the sheep in a bend of the river close by. The wool turns out pretty well, but far from fine. The wool of the lambs, now fourteen months old, the best part. I calculate the whole of the fleeces together weigh about nine hundred and twenty pounds: that is, two pounds and a half to the fleece of the one hundred and eighty ewes, one hundred and eighty lambs, fourteen months old, and eight of the forty wethers which I bought in March last. In England, I think this wool would sell for about fourteen-pence per pound.

We are now getting to the end of December, and summer is coming on. The wheat looks well, which Crab attributes to his peculiar method of ploughing, which he has endeavoured to explain to me; but I cannot understand it, although I agree with him, of course. He says he shall wait to see how the wheat comes up, and then he shall bid me good-by and go home.

The garden comes on beautifully. Peas want sticking. Cabbages and cauliflowers transplanted last month doing well. The six cows dropped their calves this month. This will make them attached to the place. The beginning of the farm looks thriving; may the end not disappoint me!

January.--Wheat up high, and the ears well formed. Crab says there will be a good crop, but thinks I should have done better if I had turned up a bit of the land lying lower, as the present bit seems to want more moisture. I proposed to try it for next year.

"Next year!" said he; "you won't catch me here next year. I don't know how I've come to stop in this strange country so long already; but somehow there has always been something to do, and I must own I should like to see how this bit of land will turn out that I've had the ploughing of, and take home a handful of wheat to Shropshire, to show the folks there what sort of stuff they grow in Van Diemen's Land. I shall be sorry to leave you and the children, but here I won't stay, that I'm determined on. Things have certainly seemed to turn out lucky with you as yet; but that will only make the ruin when it does come--and come it will--more miserable. That's my mind."

After this long speech, the grumbling and good-natured Crab proceeded busily to begin a piece of fencing which it would take at least six months to complete. But I shall have to say something more of him by-and-by.

February 3.--The anniversary of my landing in Van Diemen's Land.

February 4.--Cut the wheat. Crab rejoices at the fine harvest. "Thirty-five to the acre," says he, "if there's a bushel!" This produce he attributes principally to his own sagacity and superior skill in ploughing.

About half an acre of potatoes looks well, but I fear it is running too much into top. Every thing grows here with a remarkable luxuriance; the garden is a mass of green vegetables.

February 27.--Kept this day as a grand holiday, being the anniversary of our arrival at the Fat Doe River. Crab can hardly believe that we have been here a year, and that he has been so forgetful as to remain so long in the country. Sat down with my wife to take stock. After enumerating all our goods and chattels, sheep, bullocks, cows, etc., I was about to conclude, when my wife stopped me.

"You have forgotten part of our stock," said she.

"What stock is that, my dear?" said I.

"The five children," my dear.

"Oh," said I, "very well; by all means let us put them in the list. There's William to begin with, and a fine fellow he grows."

"And Betsy," said she.

"And Ned and Mary," said I.

"And Lucy."

"And that closes the account," said I.

"Not yet," said she.

"How's that?" said I.

"You had better leave a space there."

"Hulloa!" said I, "what's all this about?"

"It's the air, I suppose; but you say yourself that every thing in this new country is topsy turvy."

"Topsy-turvy, indeed!" said I. "Why, how shall we feed them all?"

As I spoke those words, my eyes rested on my increasing flock of sheep, with the cattle grazing on the beautiful plain before me; and, turning my head, I admired my yellow wheat-stack, which seemed like the promise of the future abundance which would reward patience and labour.

Many thoughts crowded on me; I began to feel the solid enjoyments of an agricultural life. I looked at my kind and patient wife, the companion of my toils, my helpmate and my consolation in troubles of mind and difficulties of fortune. I rapidly compared the difficulty of providing for children in the old country with the facility of subsistence in the new one; and, elated with my feelings of independence, I startled my wife with crying out joyously, "Well, there's plenty for all; land, and house, and meat, and what not! so the more the merrier!"