Memories of my life

by Mrs. J. S. O. Allen

We came downstairs to interview the man. How vividly I can see him even now. He was ragged and covered with dust. His hair was projecting through the top of his hat, and he had a whip in his hand. We asked him what conveyance we were to travel by. He replied, "In a carriage and six," meaning the bullock-dray.

At this information both of us began to cry bitterly. We refused to go, and thought of returning to Adelaide by the steamer, but my companion told me we would be put in prison if we did that. We made such a scene that the landlord and his wife came out to see what was the matter. When he learned the state of affairs he comforted us and told us he would write to Mr. Binney; so we awaited the result of his letter. A week later, on a Saturday evening, a strange-looking vehicle, drawn by wild horses, came into the yard. This was to be our conveyance. As the driver was a pleasant, respectable, married man, and promised to take as much care of us as he would of his own daughter we were much relieved in our minds, but the difficulties of the road and the savage aspect of our team still caused us dismay.

Early on Sunday morning we started, for we were told that if the horses had a whole day's rest no power on earth would get them into harness again. They had never been stabled, and as they pranced, foaming at the mouth and making the sparks fly from the cobblestones, they attracted much attention from a large crowd of onlookers. As they bounded out of the yard we held tight to the seat and said our prayers, for we thought we had not many more minutes to live.

Twelve miles of good road brought us to a small hotel called The Stone Hut. Here we halted for a few seconds, and then made a dive into a sea of wild ferns that extended as far as the eye could reach. Suddenly, without any warning, the vehicle stopped with a crash, and our driver disappeared from our astonished sight. We had struck the hidden root of an old tree. Presently he reappeared from under the feet of the horses, and congratulated us on having sufficient pluck and presence of mind to hold the reins.

After this incident all went well, and at about 8 o'clock we arrived at a sheep station, where many men were shearing and where no white women had ever been before. The shearers took out the horses and brought us some tea in a pannikin. Our vehicle was turned upside down and covered over with rugs. Under that rude shelter we spent a sleepless night.

The next day's journey took us through a wilderness of sand. Now and then a few blacks would appear from behind a hill and fly precipitately at the sight of us. About 9 o'clock that night we reached the home station, fatigued and dusty. Mr. Binney was in Melbourne, so Mrs. Binney met us and gave us a good scolding for the trouble we had caused in order to have us brought from Robe. But she was Scotch, and we were Scotch, and so our explanations were soon accepted.

When the morning came I found myself in the Australian bush. Another young girl, who was housemaid, took me with her. Her father and mother were at the station as house cooks. They consoled me by telling me that I would like being there when I got used to it. Truth to tell, I was anxious to begin my year's service, and so was up betimes. Numerous wild birds, among which I distinguished the magpie, deafened me with a bewildering clamor.

With very mingled feelings I went to the laundry. It was built of wood, but had many of the usual conveniences. The water I had to draw up from a well by a windlass.

The family consisted of Mr. and Mrs. Binney and five children—three sons and two daughters. In addition there were a sister of Mr. Binney, acting as governess to the children, and a Mr. John Binney, a cousin of the owner, who was manager or overseer of the station. The comfortable dwelling-house was one storey in height, and was built of stone. There were several outbuildings and a large store, where all sorts of things were kept for sale to the employes of the station. The place looked like a little village.

It was a common sight to see a man with his wife and children living in a sort of gipsy van. The husband would be employed in "grubbing," or clearing timber off the land. When the contract was completed the family would pack up their goods in the van and journey to another station. At stated times the families of some permanent employes, who lived a few miles away, would come in on horseback for their rations. Our employers, and, in fact, everybody about us, were very gentle and considerate in their dealing with us.