‘I mind weel, Maister Guy,’ said the old man solemnly. ‘And ye see he had faith that the Lord would provide for him and his sons and dochters. And though they were sair afflicted before the time of deliverance came, they were a’ helped and saved in the end. He that brocht ye a’ here nae doot will provide. Pray and trust in Him, Maister Guy, and dinna forget what ye learned at your mither’s knee, hinny, the God-fearin’ lady that she ever was. We must suffer tribulation, doubtless; but dinna fear—oh, dinna lose faith, my bairn, and we shall sing joyful songs i’ the ootcome!’
As the season wore on, and the rainless winter was succeeded by the hopeless spring, with drying winds and cloudless days, it seemed as if the tribulation spoken of by Andrew was indeed to be sharp, to the verge of extermination.
Not only were great losses threatened by the destruction of the stock, but the money question was commencing to become urgent. For the past year no sales of stock had been possible. Few had the means of keeping the stock they were possessed of. They were not likely to add to their responsibility by buying others, at however tempting a price. As there was no milk, there was naturally no butter, cheese, or the wherewithal to fatten the hogs for bacon. These sources of income were obliterated. Having no produce to sell, it became apparent that the articles necessary to be bought were suddenly enhanced in value. Flour rose from twelve and fifteen to fifty, seventy, finally, one hundred pounds per ton. Not foreseeing this abnormal rise, Wilfred had sold their preceding year’s crop, as usual, as soon as it reached a better price than ordinary, merely retaining a year’s supply of flour. That being exhausted, he was compelled, sorely against the grain, to purchase at these famine rates. Rice, which could be imported cheaply, was largely mingled with the flour, as a matter of economy. The bread was scarcely so palatable, but by the help of Jeanie’s admirable baking, little difference was felt.
Mr. Rockley confided that he felt deeply reluctant to charge him and other friends such high prices for the necessaries of life. The difficulties of carriage, however, were now amazing. Numbers of the draught cattle had perished, and fodder was obliged to be carried by the teams on their journeys, enhancing the cost indefinitely.
‘The fact is,’ said that unreserved merchant, ‘I am losing on all sides. The smaller farmers in my debt have no more chance of paying me, before the rain comes, than if they were in gaol. Everybody purchases the smallest quantity of goods that they can do with, and I have great difficulty in buying in Sydney at prices which will leave any margin of profit. But you come in and dine with us this evening. I’ve got a bottle of claret left, in spite of the hard times. And keep up your spirits, my boy! We shall come out of this trouble as we’ve done through others. This country wasn’t meant for faint-hearted people, was it? If all comes right, we shall be proud of having stuck to the ship manfully, eh? If not, it’s better to give three cheers when she goes down, than to whine and snivel. Come along in. I’ve done with business for the day.’
And so Wilfred, who had ridden to Yass in a state of despondency, went in and was comforted, as happened to him many a time and often, under that hospitable roof. The dinner was good though the times were bad, while Rockley’s claret was unimpeachable, as of old. Mrs. Rockley and Christabel were more than usually warm and sympathetic of manner. As he sat in the moonlight with Rockley and the ladies (who had joined them), and heard from his host tales of previous hard seasons and how they had been surmounted, he felt his heart stir with unwonted hope and a resolve to fight this fight to the end.
‘I’ve seen these seasons before,’ said the energetic optimist, ‘and I’ve always remarked that they were followed by a period of prosperity. Think of the last drought we had, and what splendid seasons followed it! This looks as bad as anything can look, but if I could get long odds, I wouldn’t mind betting that before 1840 we’re crowded with buyers, and that stock, land, and city property touch prices never reached before. Look forward, Wilfred, my boy, look forward! There’s nothing to be done without it, in a new country, take my word.’
‘You must admit that it’s hard to see anything cheering just at present.’
‘Not at all, not at all,’ said his host, lighting another cigar. ‘Christabel, go in and sing something. It’s all a matter of calculation. Say that half your cattle die—mind you, you’ve no business to let ’em die, if you can help it—hang on by your eyelids, that’s the idea—but say half of ’em do die, why, the moment the rain comes the remainder are twice as valuable as they were before, perhaps more than that, if a new district is discovered. By the way, there is a report of a new settlement down south; if it comes to anything, see what a rush there’ll be for stock, to take over on speculation. That’s the great advantage of a new country; if one venture goes wrong, there are a dozen spring up for you to choose from.’
‘Do you think it would be a good idea to take away part of the stock, and try and find a new station?’