'You got um—'bacca?'
I had a cake of cavendish in my pocket, and I gave it him, and he then stretched out his arm with a pleased look at having again recovered the free use of it. Then, taking me by the hand, he said,—
'Good white fellow, you!' Then looking round at the house near, and spreading his hand out, to indicate all the stations about his native place, he said, while a savage scowl settled upon his face,—
'All about—white fellow—no good!' and he shook his fist and uttered a fearful execration. For, ignorant as most blacks are of English, in swearing at us they rapidly become proficient. Just then we heard the noise of a horse's hoofs coming down the road, and, after giving one look over the bank at the rider, Bobby turned to me and said,—
'Good-bye, doc, doc!' and plunged into the river, gained the other side, and disappeared in the reeds, which just there grew in thick patches. He had good reason for leaving in a hurry. The horseman was one of the sons of a neighbouring squatter whom he, in conjunction with others, had the credit of having killed. Vengeance had overtaken all his companions in that exploit; but Bobby was still at large.
* * * * *
The squatting-station of which Mr. Stevenson was the superintendent was of very considerable size, extending for twenty miles along one side of the Murray, and for nearly the same distance back from the stream, which there flows through a level country, consisting of open plains alternating with belts and forests of timber, the latter giving place in many parts to patches, more or less extensive, of mallee scrub. Three-fourths of the run were reserved for sheep, the remainder for cattle, the head station huts being placed on the river banks, not far from the crossing-place. Besides the superintendent, the only other occupant of his hut was a young gentleman named Harris, who acted as overseer, and who was fitting himself for one day being able to manage a station of his own.
I had been some weeks on the run when Stevenson invited me to accompany him and the overseer on a visit of inspection they were about to make round to the different out-stations. The main object of this ride round was to supply the hut-keepers and shepherds with some strychnine he had just received from Melbourne, and with which he intended, if possible, to destroy the dingoes, or warrigals (wild dogs), whose ravages amongst the sheep had of late been frightful, twenty, thirty, and in one instance thirty-seven sheep of a flock being bitten in a single night. And as every sheep bitten, however slightly, dies (pining away as imprisoned by the wound), and as there were eight or nine out-stations, each equally exposed to attack, the losses may be imagined. Four hundred were killed, or died, during the first fortnight of my visit; indeed, the gentleman who formed the station some two years previously had sold it solely on account of this pest. Stevenson had determined to try what systematic poisoning of the run would do to diminish if not destroy this nuisance.[[1]]
[[1]] The dingo is now almost extinct in Victoria. Strychnine has greatly hastened its extermination.
It was a beautiful morning in April, the beginning of the Australian winter, when we started on our trip, which was to occupy two days. Our first day's ride was almost one continued hunt, for on nearly every plain we passed over one or more groups of kangaroo were visible, and, as my companions had brought their two dogs with them, chase was always given, and to me, who had lately been cooped up on shipboard, the change was glorious. The day was warm, but a cool breeze swept over the plains. We were mounted on stock horses, fleet, and in excellent trim; the dogs were well-bred, and always selected the foremost kangaroo of the herd, passing by all the rest; and as this animal often runs in a circle, and the plains were frequently two or three miles or more in diameter, the hunt was in full view from the beginning to the end.