A Soldier's Daughter, and Other Stories

by G. A. Henty

[A RAID BY THE BLACKS
A STORY OF AN OUTLYING STATION]

I begin to think we were wrong in coming so far out into the bush, but I was tempted by what Hawkins told me of the place, which he had come across when exploring the country. It seemed everything that could be desired: plenty of water, timber for all purposes, and fine grazing; and I admit that it is all that he said. The blacks were quiet enough then, and, though it was a good bit beyond the nearest station, I thought, when I came and had a look at the place, that it was well worth risking. We have not done badly here. The sheep and cattle have pretty well doubled their number each year; the wool has paid all our expenses. Everything has been comfortable enough, except the difficulty we have had in bringing up groceries and flour. In another ten years, if all had gone well, I should have been a really prosperous man, with a big flock of sheep and a fine herd of cattle, to say nothing of horses; but now the blacks have got nasty I begin to think that I have made a great mistake.

"Have you heard any more bad news, William?" his wife asked anxiously.

"Yes; Harry Read rode up half an hour ago, and said that he and his brother were going to drive their animals in, and take them to the station of a friend of his forty miles nearer Sydney, till things settled down a bit, for he had heard that two or three stations had been attacked by the blacks and every soul murdered. What do you think, wife? Shall we do the same?"

Mrs. Roberts was a courageous woman. "I don't know what to say," she replied. "We are getting on very well here. As you said, of course, we always knew that there was some risk. We could not have got a big station like this down-country without paying a large sum for it, far more than we could have afforded. I think it would be a pity to give it up at present. After all, we may not be attacked. You see, you have three men now, and we only had one when we came here. You built the house specially for defence, with squared logs, and even logs for the roof, so that it could not be set on fire. We could get the shingles off in an hour and, as it is the dry season, I think it would be as well to do that at once. I can shoot fairly well, and so can Effie, and with six rifles we ought to be able to keep off a mob of natives."

"But how about the animals?" her husband said.

"Well, I should say that the best plan would be to send the greater part of them away for a bit. Talbot has nothing like enough stock on his place, and I have no doubt he would be glad to graze them for a bit at a very small rent. Of course, if you think it best, I am quite ready to give the place up, though in my opinion it would be a pity. After all, the chances of the blacks coming here are not great. There are dozens of other stations as exposed as we are. We have had two or three alarms before, but nothing has ever come of them."

"I am glad that that is your opinion, wife, mine is exactly the same. Certainly, for my own sake I would a great deal rather stay here and take my chances. It was of you and Effie that I was thinking. Well, then, we will consider it settled. I will ride down to Talbot's at once and arrange with him. I shall get back late this evening. To-morrow morning we will take a lot of the stock over there. Thompson shall go with me to help to drive them down, but I shall bring him back, as it is as well to keep as strong a garrison here as possible. I can arrange with Talbot that one of his men shall be specially told off to look after our animals. I will pick out three hundred of the best ewes and a few rams, a hundred cattle, and half a dozen of the best horses. I need not take more horses than that. They are all shy of a blackfellow, and there is not much fear of their being caught; so we need not bother about them, especially as, if they were taken away to new ground, they would give a lot more trouble than the sheep and cattle."

Mr. Roberts had been a small landed proprietor in the old country, farming his own land. Times had been bad, and the failure of a bank, in which he had a few shares, had swept away not only all his ready money, but had brought upon him heavy calls which he was unable to meet. He had a brother who, some years before, had emigrated to New South Wales, and he had given so favourable an account of the country that Mr. Roberts decided to sell his land and emigrate there with his wife and two children, a boy and a girl. After meeting all claims, and paying their passages out, he had arrived at Sydney with the sum of £3000. He had wisely determined not to risk more than a third of this, and, placing £2000 in a bank, he had invested a thousand in sheep, cattle, and horses, and had taken up some land on the extreme border of the settlement. He had now been there four years, and had been well contented with his choice. The site was an exceptionally pleasant one. A small stream ran through the property, which was better wooded than most of the land in that part. His stock had increased fourfold, and although there had been occasional reports of trouble with the blacks, they had hitherto met with no molestation whatever. Natives had come and gone, and had always been hospitably received, and he certainly had no reason to believe that there was anything but good feeling between them and the inmates of the Springs, as the station was called, from a spring that rose some hundred and fifty yards away from the house and was situated some feet above the floor level, the water bubbling up into a barrel which was sunk in the ground. A pipe whose end was inserted in the barrel was buried underground, and through this the water flowed, giving a constant supply to the house. Another pipe conveyed the water to a trough, which had been erected for the use of the animals kept at the station. The other animals watered at the stream.

The boy, who was now fifteen, had been for the past two years at Sydney, living at his uncle's and attending school. In another year he was to return to the station. He had gone most reluctantly, but his father had said: "I can quite understand your liking this life, Ned, but I don't wish you to grow up simply a bush farmer. The colony is increasing fast, and there will be plenty of openings for a young fellow of intelligence and a fair education. I hope that by the time you grow up I shall be able to settle you on a farm like mine, and stock it well for you, if you decide upon following this sort of life, or to start you in any line that you may like to adopt in Sydney. You have had two years of running wild, and if you remain here you will speedily forget what little you have learned; but in any case, three years at school will be a great advantage to you."