The Bushman — Life in a New Country

by Edward Wilson Landor

Half an hour carried us over five miles of road, and brought us to Mangonah, the beautifully situated dwelling of R. W. Nash, Esq., barrister at law, the most active-minded and public-spirited man in the colony. After a short delay, to laugh at one of our friend's last coined and most facetious anecdotes, and also to visit his botanical garden, we rattled off again to Guildford; a scattered hamlet that was made acquainted with our approach by loud strains from the editor's bugle. Here, however, we paused not, but proceeded along a hard and good road towards Green Mount, the first hill which we had to ascend. Green Mount, six miles from Guildford, is famous for a desperate skirmish which took place some years ago between a large body of natives and Messrs. Bland and Souper, at the head of a party escorting provisions from Perth to the infant settlement at York. Whilst slowly ascending the hill, a thick flight of spears fell among the party, wounding several of them. No enemy was visible, and the greatest consternation prevailed among the men, who hastened to shelter themselves under the carts. This induced the natives to rush out of their ambush, when they were received with a shower of balls; and at length driven back, after losing a good many men. Mr. Souper had several spears sticking in his body, and others of the English were severely wounded, but none mortally.

The natives are very tenacious of life, and so are all the birds and animals indigenous to the country.

The natives often have spears thrust completely through their bodies, and without any serious injury, receive wounds that would prove mortal to the whites. A vagabond who had speared one of those noble rams of ours, of whom honourable mention has been already made, was shot by our shepherd whilst in the act of decamping with the carcase. The ball passed completely through his lungs, and would have made an end of any white man; but the native recovered in the course of a few days, and walked a hundred miles heavily ironed, to take his trial for sheep-stealing at the Quarter Sessions.

From Guildford to the foot of Green Mount, the country presents a vast plain of cold clayey soil, unfit for cultivation, and though covered with scrub, affording very little useful herbage.

On ascending the hill, we come upon what is generally called the iron-stone range, which extends nearly to York, a distance of forty miles. These extensive hills (about fifteen hundred feet above the level of the sea) are composed almost entirely of granite rocks, with occasional tracts of quartz; and the surface is generally strewn over with a hard loose rubble.

Although the sides and summits of the hills present scarcely any appearance of soil, vast forests of large Jarra trees, and other varieties of the eucalyptus, extend in every direction; and flowers the most beautiful relieve the sombre appearance of the ground. Some few of the valleys afford a few acres of alluvial soil; and in the first of these, called Mahogany Creek, six miles from Green Mount, we found a comfortable way-side house, with good out-buildings, and other accommodations; and here we halted to lunch, and bait our horses.

Many other individuals, bent upon the same journey as ourselves, were lounging and smoking before the house, or partaking of the refreshments. Most were travelling on horseback; some in gigs, and some in light spring-carts. A famous round of cold beef, with bottled ale and porter, proved extremely agreeable after our drive.

In the afternoon we proceeded fifteen miles farther, to the half-way house, where on my first arrival in the colony I had been initiated into the art of cooking a saddle of kangaroo, and serving it up with mint-sauce. The road, through a dense forest of evergreen trees, is excessively dreary, and the quarters for the night were never very satisfactory; but the traveller might always look forward to a comfortable sitting-room, kangaroo steaks and pork, with plenty of fresh eggs and good bread. Since that time the house has been given up by the energetic landlord; and the Local Government is partly responsible for the loss of this accommodation, in consequence of having insisted upon a heavy license being annually taken out. In good times, when the farm-settlers of the York and Northam districts brought their wool and other produce down this road to the capital, they invariably spent a merry evening at the half-way house; but since money has become scarcer in the colony, they have been compelled to avoid this place of entertainment, and kindle instead a fire by the road-side, where they spend their evenings in solitary meditation, to the advantage doubtless of their minds and purses. In the morning, full of philosophical thoughts and fried rashers of pork, they calmly yoke their bullocks to the wain, unafflicted by those pangs which were often the only acknowledgment rendered to the hospitality of Mr. Smith—pangs of mental remorse and a bilious stomach. And yet the worthy host never suffered a guest whom he respected to depart without administering to him what he called "a doctor"—of which, about five o'clock in the morning, the poor man usually felt himself much in need; and at that hour, as Aurora entered at the window, would mine host (equally rosy-cheeked) enter by the door, and deliver his matutinal salutation. This "doctor," a character universally esteemed by travellers in those parts, was a tumbler of milk fresh from the cow, tinctured with brandy.

The glory had not departed from the half-way house at the period to which I refer; and as we drove up to the door, amid the liveliest strains of the editorial bugle, our jovial host welcomed us with his heartiest greeting. This spot is truly an oasis in the desert, affording a few acres of tolerable land, and some excellent garden-ground which, in the season, produces abundance of grapes, peaches, apples, figs, and various kinds of vegetables. A deep brook runs at the bottom of the garden which is very well watered; and on its margin, in the midst of a green plot, protected by palings from rude encroachment, is the quiet grave of one of Mr. Smith's children. How different looks the solitary grave of the desert from the crowded churchyards of England! How much more home it comes to the heart! Across the brook is a large barley-field, and down the valley are several other inclosures; all around, beyond these, is the dark, melancholy, illimitable forest. At one end of the house, which is of goodly size, stands a huge erection of wood, resembling a gallows, from which are suspended the bodies of three kangaroos. Not far from this, a group of natives—men, women, and children—are squatted round a small fire, eating baked opossums, and chattering, and uttering shrill screams of laughter, with all their might. Half a dozen large kangaroo dogs are hanging about this group with wistful eyes, but evidently without any expectations of obtaining a morsel.

The house, being filled with people on their way to the races, resounded all the evening with jokes and merriment; and when the well-disposed retired to bed, and flattered themselves they were just sinking into repose, a mob of their evil-minded friends, headed by an Irish barrister and the usually sedate Crown Solicitor, beat down the door, and pulled them forth again. Then were the four walls of the room (which contained four beds) made witnesses to a scene exhibiting all the horrors of war. Dreadful was the conflict: bolsters and carpet-bags were wielded with fierce animosity; pillows and rolled-up blankets flew about the room like cannon-shot; and long was the contest doubtful, until the despair of the besieged at length overcame the impetuosity of the assailants, and succeeded in driving them from the apartment.