Fern Vale; or, the Queensland Squatter. Volume 3

by Colin Munro

"If you would like to step into the other room, gents, you will find it more comfortable; there is only one other gent there, perhaps you know him," he continued in an under tone, "it is Mr. Rainsfield."

A low murmur ran through the party at the mention of the name, though it was unheard by Rainsfield himself, he having turned again into the parlour. The name of Rainsfield was repeated by them all in a tone of voice that unmistakeably indicated a sorrowful compassion. They were all squatters in the district and friends of Smithers, who had collected them to go to the assistance of their neighbour for his protection against the aborigines. They had heard as they came along the fearful news of the massacre, and had accelerated their speed to arrive on the scene of action as soon as possible, in the hope of finding some of the family living, or being in time to afford some assistance, either in the preservation of their lives, the protection of their property, or the chastisement of their murderers.

Smithers instantly proposed to join Mr. Rainsfield, and at once adjourned to the other room, followed by his companions; and, as he entered and advanced with extended hand, but without venturing to speak, Rainsfield grasped the proffered token of friendship, while he said: "Too late, Smithers! too late! except for revenge, and that is all I hope to live for."

"And in which we can now only serve you," replied his companion. "But we will organize some plan of operation; we count fifteen now, and are sufficient to be irresistible to the whole tribe of blacks. In the meantime let the landlord prepare dinner, and then we will discuss matters quietly. I think you know all our friends here?"

The form of introduction being gone through where the parties were not acquainted, and the shaking of hands where they were, the necessary instructions were given to the landlord to prepare something for the company, and they fell into a desultory conversation previous to entering upon their plans. It is not our intention to weary the reader with a verbose report of the initiatory proceedings of the party, and will therefore merely state that they formed themselves into a mutual protection society, with the professed object of combining to repel the encroachments of the blacks, though in reality to hunt them down like dogs. For the furtherance of this scheme they bound themselves by stringent oaths to let none escape them, but to kill all they should come across. Each individual swore to take active part in the process of destruction so as to make all equally implicated. They vowed, by the most solemn obligations, never to make any disclosure that would criminate any of the society; while, before any neophyte could be admitted within the periphery of their mysterious bonds, it was determined he should be subjected to an ordeal that would protect the members from the possibility of any disclosure that would cause their amenability to the law.

In the course of conversation with the landlord Smithers learnt that one of the family (which his informant could not tell him) was still living, and that a messenger, supposed from Fern Vale, had come over that morning for the doctor. Smithers communicated this to Rainsfield, who then remembered for the first time that he had not visited the room of Eleanor, and therefore inferred that it must be she, he having had too clear a demonstration of the total absence of life in the bodies of his wife and children. This he mentioned to Smithers, and they both agreed that Eleanor must have been discovered by some of the Fergusons, who had removed her to their own house, and sent for the doctor. They therefore determined to adhere to their original plan of starting early on the following morning, after taking a night's rest where they were, it being needed by most of the party as well as by their horses.

On the following morning they were early on the road, so that few saw them leave the township. But though nothing had been said by any of the Society respecting the object of their journey it was pretty shrewdly guessed at, if not positively known, by most of the inhabitants; and it was evident to them no body of men, armed with rifles and revolvers, could be travelling to the scene of a murderous outrage with any peaceable intent. The sympathies, however, of most went with them; and even though some of their number had been disposed in simple argument to feel for the blacks, none dared to incur public opprobrium by making any representations of the supposed hostilities to official quarters. The Society itself proceeded on its way very quietly, its members being mostly absorbed in sketching out, mentally, plans of the campaign on which they were entering, so that the journey was almost entirely performed in silence.

When they reached the station its appearance was quite desolate; no signs of life were perceptible, and the stillness of death spread around its influence, which was sensibly felt by all. The house was closed to all ingress, and on the door was nailed a card bearing the words: "Let Mr. Rainsfield proceed to Fern Vale the instant on his arrival." Rainsfield read the sentence, and at once guessed the import; he perceived that when the murder had been discovered by the Fergusons they had removed the bodies thither, if possible, to await his arrival before interment; and he determined to go on at once, though, before departing, he desired once more to gaze upon the rooms through which the steps of his wife and the merry voices of his children had so lately resounded, but which were now tenantless, desolate, and bloody. An entrance was effected by a back window, and the party admitted; when great was the surprise of Mr. Rainsfield to find no sign or vestige of the fearful crime that had there so lately been committed. He read in all this the kind hand of his neighbours, and his heart smote him in the midst of his grief for the manner in which he had behaved to young Ferguson. To his friends he pointed out with a melancholy precision the spots where he had found the various bodies, described their position and their mutilated condition, and then wandered through the rooms with an abstracted air conjuring in his imagination the scenes that were passed, never more to return, and peopling them in his fancy with those loved forms whose spirits had fled to the source from whence they sprang.

His friends did not attempt to interrupt the gratification of this melancholy pleasure, but allowed him to be the first to propose a retreat, which, when he did, they were ready to agree to. The whole party then left the house to proceed to Fern Vale; and while they are on the road we will precede them and take a momentary glance at the doings there, both at the exact period of our narrative and also retrospectively for a few hours.

John Ferguson, when he bore the all but lifeless body of Eleanor into his own house, arrested the volatile reception of his sister with an expression of countenance that betokened deep sorrow. To the poor girl the look was unaccountable; she had only risen the instant her brother had arrived, and had heard nothing of his approach; consequently she was a little surprised at his presence. But when she was about to rush into his embrace his manner appalled her, while she was equally surprised at the singular burden he carried in his arms, for in the manner in which he had enveloped the body of Eleanor the form was undefinable. John, however, saved his sister the necessity of any questioning, by saying: