The Book Of The Bush, George Dunderdale [thriller novels to read .txt] 📗

Uncle,  Lachlan Macalister,  Of Nuntin,  To Make Arrangements For

Shipping Some Cattle And Sheep.  The Day Before Their Arrival Donald

Saw Some Blacks At A Distance In The Scrub,  And Without Any

Provocation Fired At Them With An Old Tower Musket,  Charged With

Shot.  The Next Day The Drovers And Shepherds Arrived With The Stock,

And Drove Them Over Glengarry's Bridge To A Place Between The Tarra

And Albert Rivers,  Called The Coal Hole,  Afterwards Occupied By

Parson Bean.  There Was No Yard There,  And The Animals Would Require

Watching At Night; So Donald Decided To Send Them Back To Glengarry's

Yards.  Then He And The Drovers And Shepherds Would Have A Pleasant

Time; There Would Be Songs And Whisky,  The Piper Would Play,  And The

Men And Maids Would Dance.  The Arrangement Suited Everybody.  The

Drovers Started Back With The Cattle,  Donald Helped The Shepherds To

Gather The Sheep,  And Put Them On The Way,  And Then He Rode After The

Cattle.  The Track Led Him Past A Grove Of Dense Ti-Tree,  On The Land

Now Known As The Brewery Paddock,  And About A Hundred Yards Ahead A

Single Blackfellow Came Out Of The Grove,  And Began Capering About

And Waving A Waddy.  Donald Pulled Up His Horse And Looked At The

Black.  He Had A Pair Of Pistols In The Holsters Of His Saddle,  But

He Did Not Draw Them:  There Was No Danger From A Blackfellow A

Hundred Yards Off.  But There Was Another Behind Him And Much Nearer,

Who Came Silently Out Of The Ti-Tree And Thrust A Spear Through

Donald's Neck.  The Horse Galloped Away Towards Glengarry's Bridge.

 

When The Drovers Saw The Riderless Horse,  They Supposed That

Macalister Had Been Accidentally Thrown,  And They Sent Friday To Look

For Him.  He Found Him Dead.  The Blacks Had Done Their Work Quickly.

They Had Stripped Donald Of Everything But His Trousers And Boots,

Had Mutilated Him In Their Usual Fashion,  And Had Disappeared.  A

Story 11 ( Glengarry In Gippsland..) Pg 170

Messenger Was Sent To Old Macalister,  And The Young Man Was Buried On

The Bank Of The River Near Mcclure's Grave.  The New Cemetery Now

Contained Three Graves,  The Second Being That Of Tinker Ned,  Who Shot

Himself Accidentally When Pulling Out His Gun From Beneath A

Tarpaulin.

 

Lachlan Macalister Had Had A Long Experience In Dealing With

Blackfellows And Bushrangers; He Had Been A Captain In The Army,  And

An Officer Of The Border Police.  The Murder Of His Nephew Gave Him

Both A Professional And A Family Interest In Chastising The

Criminals,  And He Soon Organised A Party To Look For Them.  It Was,

Of Course,  Impossible To Identify Any Blackfellow Concerned In The

Outrage,  And Therefore Atonement Must Be Made By The Tribe.  The

Blacks Were Found Encamped Near A Waterhole At Gammon Creek,  And

Those Who Were Shot Were Thrown Into It,  To The Number,  It Was Said,

Of About Sixty,  Men,  Women,  And Children; But This Was Probably An

Exaggeration.  At Any Rate,  The Black Who Capered About To Attract

Young Macalister's Attention Escaped,  And He Often Afterwards

Described And Imitated The Part He Took In What He Evidently

Considered A Glorious Act Of Revenge.  The Gun Used By Old Macalister

Was A Double-Barrelled Purdy,  A Beautiful And Reliable Weapon,  Which

In Its Time Had Done Great Execution.

 

The Dairy Business At Greenmount Was Carried On At A Continual Loss,

And Glengarry Resolved To Return To Scotland.  He Sold His Cows And

Their Increase To Thacker And Mason,  Of Sydney,  For Twenty-Seven

Shillings And Sixpence Per Head; His House Was Bought By John

Campbell.  On The Eve Of His Departure For Sydney In The Schooner

'Coquette' (Captain Gaunson),  A Farewell Dinner Was Given By The

Highlanders At The Old Port,  And Long Mason,  Who Had Come From Sydney

To Take Delivery Of The Cows On Behalf Of Thacker And Mason,  Was One

Of The Guests.  But There Was More Of Gloom Than Of Gaiety Around The

Festive Board.  All Wished Well To The Young Chief,  But The Very Best

Of His Friends Could Think Of Nothing Cheerful To Say To Him.  His

Enterprise Had Been A Complete Failure; The Family Tree Of Clanranald

The Dauntless Had Refused To Take Root In A Strange Land The Glory

Had Gone From It For Ever,  And There Was Nothing To Celebrate In Song

Or Story.

 

Other Men From The Highlands Failed To Win The Smiles Of Fortune In

Gippsland.  At Home,  Notwithstanding Their Tribal Feuds,  They Held

Their Own For Two Thousand Years Against The Roman And Saxon,  The

Dane And The Norman.  Only One Hundred And Fifty Years Ago (It Seems

Now Almost Incredible) They Nearly Scared The Hanoverian Dynasty From

The Throne Of England,  And Even Yet,  Though Scattered Throughout The

British Empire,  They Are Neither A Fallen Nor A Falling Race.

 

Glengarry Returned To His Tent Early,  And Then The Buying And Selling

Of The Five Hundred Cows Became The Subject Of Conversation; The

Whisky Circulated,  And Long Mason Observed That Unfriendly Looks

Began To Be Directed Towards Himself.  He Was An Englishman,  A

Southron,  And It Was A Foul Shame And Dishonour That Such As He

Should Pay A Highland Chief Only Twenty-Seven Shillings And Sixpence

For Beasts That Had Cost Ten Pounds Each.  That Was Not The Way In

Story 11 ( Glengarry In Gippsland..) Pg 171

The Good Old Days When The Hardy Men Of The North Descended From The

Mountains With Broadsword And Shield,  Lifted The Cattle Of The Saxon,

And Drove Them To Their Homes In The Glens.

 

The Fervid Temper Of The Gael Grew Hotter At The Thought Of The Rank

Injustice Which Had Been Done,  And It Was Decided That Long Mason

Should Be Drowned In The Inlet.  He Protested Against The Decision

With Vigour,  And Apparently With Reason.  He Said:

 

"I Did Not Buy The Cattle At All.  Glengarry Sold Them To Thacker And

My Brother In Sydney,  And I Only Came Over To Take Delivery Of Them.

What Wrong Have I Done?"

 

But The Reasoning Of The Prosaic Englishman Was Thrown To The Winds:

 

"Ye've Done Everything Wrong.  Ye Should Hae Gin Ten Pund Sterling

Apiece For The Coos,  And Not Twenty-Sen And Saxpence.  It's A Pity

Yer Brither,  And Thacker,  And Macfarlane Are No Here The Nicht,  And

We'd Droon Them,  Too."

 

Four Strong Men,  Shouting In Gaelic The War-Cry Of Sheriffmuir,

"Revenge,  Revenge,  Revenge To-Day,  Mourning To-Morrow!" Seized The

Long Limbs Of The Unfortunate Mason,  And In Spite Of His Struggles

Bore Him Towards The Beach.  The Water Near The Margin Was Shallow,

So They Waded In Until It Was Deep Enough For Their Purpose.  There

Was A Piercing Cry,  "Help! Murder! Murder!"  John Campbell Heard It,

But It Was Not Safe For A Campbell To Stand Between A Macdonnell And

His Revenge.  However,  Captain Davy And Pateley Jim Came Out Of Their

Huts To See What Was The Matter,  And They Waded After The

Highlanders.  Each Seized A Man By The Collar And Downhauled.  There

Was A Sudden Whirlpool,  A Splashing And A Spluttering,  As All The

Five Men Went Under And Drank The Brine.

 

"I Think," Said Pateley,  "That Will Cool 'Em A Bit," And It Did.

 

Long Mason Was A University Man,  Educated For The Church,  But Before

His Ordination To The Priesthood He Had Many Other Adventures And

Misfortunes.  After Being Nearly Drowned By The Highlanders He Was

Placed In Charge Of Woodside Station By His Elder Brother; He Tried

To Mitigate The Miseries Of Solitude With Drink,  But He Did So Too

Much And Was Turned Adrift.  He Then Made His Way To New Zealand,  And

Fought As A Common Soldier Through The Heki War.  Captain Patterson,

Of The Schooner 'Eagle',  Met Him At A New Zealand Port.  He Was

Wearing A Long,  Ragged Old Coat,  Such As Soldiers Wore,  Was Out Of

Employment,  And In A State Of Starvation.  The Captain Took Pity On

Him,  Brought Him Back To Port Albert,  And He Became A Shepherd On A

Station Near Bairnsdale.  While He Was Fighting The Maoris His

Brother Had Gone Home,  And Had Sent To Sydney Money To Pay His

Passage To England.  But He Could Not Be Found,  And The Money Was

Returned To London.  At Length Captain Bentley Found Out Where He

Was,  Took Him To Sydney,  Gave Him An Outfit,  And Paid His Passage To

England.  Long Mason,  Honest Man That He Was,  Sent Back The Passage

Money,  Was Ordained Priest,  Obtained A Living Near London,  And Roamed

No More.

Story 11 ( Glengarry In Gippsland..) Pg 172

 

He Had A Younger Brother Named Leonard Mason,  Who Lived With Coady

Buckley At Prospect,  Near The Ninety-Mile,  And Became A Good Bushman.

In 1844 Leonard Took Up A Station In North Gippsland Adjoining The

Mcleod's Run,  But The Highlanders Tried To Drive Him Away By Taking

His Cattle A Long Distance To A Pound Which Had Been Established At

Stratford.  The Mcleods And Their Men Were Too Many For Leonard.  He

Went To Melbourne To Try If The Law Or The Government Would Give Him

Any Redress,  But He Could Obtain No Satisfaction.  The Continued

Impounding Of His Cattle Meant Ruin To Him,  And When He Returned To

Gippsland He Found His Hut Burned Down And His Cattle Gone On The Way

To The Pound.  He Took A Double-Barrelled Gun And Went After Them.

He Found Them At Providence Ponds,  Which Was A Stopping Place For

Drovers.  Next Morning He Rose Early,  Went To The Stockyard With His

Gun,  And Waited Till Mcdougall,  Who Was Manager For The Mcleods,  Came

Out With His Stockmen.  When They Approached The Yard He Said:

 

"I Shall Shoot The First Man Who Touches Those Rails To Take My Cattle

Out."

 

Mcdougall Laughed,  And Ordered One Of His Men To Take Down The

Slip-Rails,  But The Man Hesitated; He Did Not Like The Looks Of

Mason.  Then Mcdougall Dismounted From His Horse And Went To The

Slip-Rails,  But As Soon As He Touched Them Mason Shot Him.

 

Coady Buckley Spared Neither Trouble Nor Expense In Obtaining The

Best Counsel For Mason's Defence At The Trial In Melbourne.  He Was

Found Guilty Of Manslaughter And Sentenced To Nine Years'

Imprisonment,  But After A Time Was Released On The Condition Of

Leaving Victoria,  And When Last Heard Of Was A Drover Beyond The

Murray.

 

After The Departure Of Glengarry,  Dancer Could Find No Profitable

Employment In Gippsland,  And Lived In A State Of Indigence.  At Last

He Borrowed Sufficient Money On A Promissory Note To Pay His Passage

To Ireland.  In Tipperary He Became A Baronet And A