Fern Vale; or, the Queensland Squatter. Volume 2

by Colin Munro

For to-night we'll merry be,

To-morrow we'll get sober."

Old Song.

Some time had elapsed since the events mentioned in the foregoing chapter had transpired; but few changes had come over the scene of our narrative. Kate Ferguson had settled down into the circle of her domestic duties with a spirit that charmed her brothers and enchanted every one about her. Mr. Wigton had, at an early date, left Fern Vale for Brisbane. The blacks had entirely disappeared from the country, and Mr. Rainsfield had almost, if not entirely, forgotten their existence and the dreadful means he had adopted for their expatriation; while Tom Rainsfield, if he continued to remember it, never allowed any mention of the circumstances to pass his lips. The whole of the events were of course, by "the thousand tongues of scandal," speedily noised about the country; but the general feeling exculpated Rainsfield from any blame, and the judicial enquiries were extremely superficial. The government being perfectly satisfied with the report of the magistrates of the neighbourhood; who in their turn were content with the unsubstantiated version of their colleague Mr. Rainsfield. Tom Rainsfield was a constant visitor to his friends at Fern Vale; while William Ferguson and his sister made repeated visits to "the Hill," though their brother John rarely moved off his own run.

The spring had set in with its calm salubrious atmosphere, and plenty and contentment pervaded all nature. At nearly every station shearing had been completed; and, except at some of the remote localities where labour was only with difficulty obtained, the excitement and bustle incidental to that time had subsided, and the squatters had settled down into the monotony of their usual routine.

At a pretty little spot on a tributary creek of the Gibson river, about ten miles from Brompton, was situated the station of Clintown, the residence and property of a retired medical man of the name of Graham. This gentleman was rather a portly individual of stupendous dimensions; with a body rather obese, and limbs of great power. His face was decidedly rubicund, and, kept scrupulously free from hairy excrescence, displayed a pair of pendent cheeks. His nose was not much out of the common, except that it was possessed of a certain erubescence, which, increasing in intensity towards the extremity, gave some indication of the owner's predilection for spirituous comforts. His cranium on the summit had a decided tendency to sterility, notwithstanding the continual exudation of an unctuous nourishment; and, but for the stamp of the voluptuary which was unmistakably impressed upon his visage, and other slight defects, would have been considered by phrenologists a fine head.

If not respected in the district Dr. Graham was at least tolerated; perhaps more from dread than any other feeling his presence or society was likely to create. Among the lower orders he was generally detested; he was abhorred by the shepherds whom he employed, and who never could be induced to stay with him longer than they were absolutely compelled; while many were the charges of rapacity brought against him, by those who had been in his service, and had been defrauded of their wages on some unjust pretext. His bellicosity was well known; and bold indeed was the man who would dare to risk an encounter with the self-dubbed "champion of the Downs." He was reputed wealthy; or rather his means were supposed to be considerable, though there was a story attached to their acquisition, which, if true, reflected lasting opprobrium on this worldly medicus.

He was said to have been located at one time as a practitioner in a distant part of the colony, and to have conceived the idea of establishing an hospital in a certain town, centrally situated in the bush. To accomplish this end he travelled the country soliciting subscriptions; and such was the confidence reposed in the individual, whose disinterestedness and zeal were generally admired, and the desideratum that such an edifice was considered, that he was eminently successful in his canvass. The squatters readily and munificently subscribed to the project, and Dr. Graham soon found himself in possession of a considerable sum of money.

That this money was applied to the purposes for which it was contributed is more than doubtful; for the hospital was never erected, while Dr. Graham shortly afterwards became possessed of the station of Clintown. It was said that some of the subscribers, not relishing the manner in which they were taken in, insisted upon a return of their money, or its legitimate application; and in some few instances, to quiet the importunities of those who were disposed to be turbulent, the money was returned. But in the majority of the cases the parties were too timorous or indifferent to make any demands; and the subscriptions and hospital scheme remained in statu quo, the one in the pocket, or rather represented in the sheep of Dr. Graham, and the other in the fond expectation of the deluded subscribers. Whether this tale be true or false we are not in a position to say; but it was darkly brooded about, no one daring to venture an open assertion, in consideration of the pugilistic accomplishment of the party most concerned. One thing, however, is certain that the Doctor, prior to the scheme, was always supposed to be in debt, from the difficulty "those little accounts" could be extorted from him, while after the successful ruse, he suddenly became possessed, to a remarkable extent, of a laudable desire for honourable liquidation.

The general characteristics of Dr. Graham's nature were as peculiar as his personal appearance. He was parsimonious and exacting in his intercourse with his neighbours, and inhospitable to those not his boon companions; to whom again, he was lavish and profuse. Nothing gave him greater pleasure than the society of a companion who could join him in copious libations; and upon one occasion he carried out his principle in a remarkable manner. He was detained on business for a short time in Sydney, and was disposed to enjoy himself in "a little bit of a spree;" though, unfortunately for his happiness, he could not fall in with a concomitant spirit to join him in the way of friendship. None who knew him were disposed to submit to his imperiousness; so he was driven to the necessity of procuring, by engagement, the companionship of some congenial nature. He, therefore, hired a man who was recommended to him for the purpose; an individual who was famous in his generation for his bibulous capabilities, and willing to submit to any indignity for a gratuitous supply of the inebriate's nectar. The debauch commenced and was conducted with considerable spirit so long as it lasted; but the principal and his co-adjutor soon parted, owing, as the former used to say, to the fellow's incapacity to take his liquor. His contentment in loneliness was another feature in his character; which was also exemplified by another tale often told about him. He was an enthusiastic lover of whist, and when he could make up a rubber with three of his choice spirits he was content; though still without them he was equally partial to his hand, and was actually discovered on one occasion sitting with his usual solace, his grog and his pipe, silently going through the formula of playing with three dummies.