CHAPTER XX.

CHARLIE DISCOVERS NEW COUNTRY.

The affecting and trying incidents which had followed each other, in such rapid succession during the last few years, were sufficient to overwhelm even a stronger mind than Charlie's, and they had such an influence on him that the monotonous bush-life he now followed was insufficient to eradicate its effects.

The first of these reverses was the unavoidable desertion of his country, leaving all that was near and dear to him behind; then came his shipwreck, and the singular manner in which he was saved; then followed the loss of the noble-hearted Pamul, with the mournful cause of her death: then Melrose's strange and terrible fate, added to his troubled mind, and kept open the wounds which the loss of Bella had caused. This last terrible blow came, too, at the very moment when his whole mind was filled with joy at the hope of every moment expecting to hear of her arrival; when his happiness would be complete.

In order to bear up under these hopeless reminiscences and to banish them entirely from his mind, he resolved upon putting into execution a project which had for some time occupied his attention. This long-cherished idea was no less than to attempt to explore some parts of the yet unknown interior of Australia. The discovery of Australia Felix, and the many exploits of Sir Thomas Mitchell, had enkindled within him this idea.

Appointing a manager for his station, he, attended only by Donald, started to the most inland station which was at the foot of the Australian Alps, resolving if possible, to cross that hitherto impenetrable barrier, being under the impression that some good country lay between them and the coast. On arriving at the station he heard from the aborigines that some fine plains and rivers were beyond the mountains, stretching out towards the ocean; but as no great reliance could be placed on the accounts given by natives, no one as yet had undertaken the journey. Charlie could find but one among the whole tribe in whom he could trust for guidance across. This was a strong and intelligent fellow named Quandak, and who, according to his own report, had once been on a warlike expedition against the Warrigal tribe, as he called the natives of that district.

As the mountains which they had to cross were inaccessible for a heavily equipped party, Charlie resolved upon proceeding, accompanied only by Donald and Quandak, taking pack-horses to carry a supply of provisions.

After a great deal of fatigue and hardship, the passage across was successfully accomplished.

On crossing the last of the eminences, a sight burst upon their view which repaid them for all the difficulty they had endured. Underneath them, and stretching out towards the sea as far as the eye, aided by the glass, could reach, lay beautiful plains fringed with strips of forest, intersected by rivers rising in the Alps and discharging themselves into the lakes near the sea.

The charming scene reminded them of their native land, and filled them with such pleasant thoughts as they had not experienced since they left home.

The remainder of the journey was passed with light-heartedness and speed, as they travelled over extensive meadows never before seen by Europeans. In their rambles they suddenly came upon a small encampment of natives, who manifested great surprise at their appearance. A number of them gathered round Charlie, feeling him and his horse; but on seeing them dismount they rushed off in great terror, leaving all their effects behind them.

The small supply of provisions they had taken would not allow them to remain long; they therefore made a hasty return to the settled districts, highly gratified with their explorations.

On his return Charlie disposed of his station and started off again to the new country, taking with him Mary, several other servants, and all requisites to form a settlement. He led the expedition himself, leaving Donald to follow with the stock. Being the middle of summer the cattle were taken safely across the mountains, and the party took possession of the best part of the plains and watercourses.

Unable to procure bark for covering in the buildings until the wet season set in, they erected a building, which, although unroofed, would serve as a stockade or protection from the attacks of the natives, should they show any hostile disposition.

One evening, after coming home, and while hobbling their horses, a doctor, who accompanied the expedition, strolled a little distance from the stockade. Being unarmed, the natives who were in the vicinity, took advantage of his unprotected state and endeavoured to seize him. He fortunately, however, perceived them in time, and testing his legs to the utmost of their power, arrived at the stockade and reported the case. The party, on seeing the intended attack of the natives, took shelter within the building, barring the entrance, and then discovered that the affrighted medicus had ensconsed himself underneath a pile of bed clothes.

The disappointed besiegers, who now surrounded the place in force, were at a loss to know how to attack it, seeing no aperture through which they could drive their spears. However, their leader soon devised a plan which threatened destruction to all within the place, as they could not fire upon their antagonists. The plan which the besiegers adopted was to throw their spears in the air; this they did with such exactness that they fell inside the building, and but for the activity of the besieged, their destruction would have been complete.

Charlie, annoyed at not being able to retaliate, after a careful search found a small aperture between two slabs, in which he managed to place the muzzle of his rifle, and on taking aim, beheld the very object he wanted. This was the leader of the party, who was encouraging his men with a joyful countenance. Aware that the fall of their leader would disperse the enemy Charlie fired, and, as he expected, brought him to earth, which produced the desired effect.

An amusing incident took place on Charlie and his party leaving the stockade. An Hibernian, who filled the office of cook, and who was known by the name of "Doughboy," seemed more curious in his examination of the dead body, exclaimed in true Irish brogue:—"By the hole in my coat masther, but its a mighty polite or decateful rifle that of yours, instead of sending the ball bouldly in the face of the black, be dad it sent it round his head, and popped in at his pole."

This remark, the party found on examination to have some foundation, for the only wound to be found was in his pole, although they knew the savage was facing them when shot. This mystery was soon solved, for they found the ball had entered his mouth.

Nothing of any importance happened to Donald while travelling up with the stock save one, and which we will here relate, as it gave an opportunity for him to gratify his propensity of playing tricks.

One evening, just as the party had completed arrangements for their encampment, they saw something which was a novelty in the bush; it was a rider dressed in black, with a regular English hat (a bell-topper) on, mounted on a black horse, and making towards the encampment. On drawing near, Donald at once identified him as the man who officiated as clergyman on the stations, and was well known by the name of Parson Croaker, but who had been expelled from holy orders on account of his eccentric and unchristian peculiarities, and who was now on his way to Port Phillip in order to improve his circumstances. Donald who had already played some tricks upon the ex-minister, was not recognised, nor did he wish it, hospitably received the traveller, giving him shelter and accommodation, as no station or place of refuge was near.

At the time of retiring for the night, a difficulty presented itself to the parson which had been overlooked until the last moment. This was how to secure his horse, being naturally of a restless disposition and apt to break away, especially as there were horses belonging to the party feeding about, he was afraid that they might entice him away and leave his master in the bush.

This was however got over by a proposition made by Donald, and to which the parson agreed, which was to the following effect:—that on lying down for the night before the fire according to bush custom, the parson was to fasten the end of his horse's tether round his own leg, then, should the animal possess any inclination to stray, his owner would have full and ample warning. In conformity with this suggestion, the parson and Donald stretched themselves on the earth, placing, their saddles under their heads, having their feet towards the large fire, which was constantly replenished by the man on watch. The ex-minister fastened his horse's tether to his leg, and considering that all was perfectly secure, was soon fast asleep.

His long and weary ride, together with this being the first time he had slept on such a hard bed, caused him to have fearful dreams.

Donald, who expected to have some amusement from his invention, never closed his eyes, when at last the horses, belonging to them came round; on seeing them the stranger's horse made one bound towards them, dragging the unfortunate parson through the fire.

Donald was somewhat alarmed at the scene, and was unable for a short time to arrest the animal or liberate his visitor, who, after all, got off with merely having his clothes and hair singed. The parson took some little time to be convinced that he was still in the land of the living.

The task of forming the new station, and of holding possession against the attacks of savages, now devolved upon Charlie, and many skirmishes took place between his men and the aborigines, who appeared determined to drive the white-fellows from their hunting ground. Every day fresh tracts of splendid country were discovered, and many places he took great pleasure in naming after favourite spots in his own country.

Many settlers followed in his track, and took possession of the vast plains and pastures, which soon formed a strong party to resist the savages.

Charlie had by this time built a pleasure-boat, in which he made many excursions among the lakes, accompanied by some of the neighbouring settlers and Donald. The first of these took place one beautifully calm day, when Donald, having his bagpipes with him, was desired by his master to play the old favourite pibroch, an air which he had abstained from playing ever since the loss of Bella, lest it might awaken sad thoughts in the mind of Charlie.

As the rowers measured their time with the thrilling strain, and as the boat glided leisurely round one of the picturesque islets, Charlie, who was seated at the helm, became overwhelmed with mournful thoughts, which were awakened by the favourite pibroch, and the surrounding scenery, which forcibly reminded him of happier days.

In order to hide his grief from his companions, he turned round and directed his gaze towards the islet they were slowly passing.

While his eyes were fixed on the islet, his thoughts carried him back to the scene at the Bridge of Linn, when he heard his lost Bella's endearing appeal on that memorable morning, calling to him—when, hark! the identical sound—"Charlie, dear, save me," struck his ears above the strains of the music. With one bound he sprung up, and rushing to the bows, pulled the chanter from Donald's lips, and with looks of strange wildness, exclaimed—"Did you not hear her?"

The bewildered company, who concluded that he was under a delusion, asked for an explanation, when he replied—"I am certain it was her voice." One of the party now informed them that he saw a black-fellow carrying a female in his arms into the scrub on the island opposite, and that she seemed to resist him by screaming out, which was probably what Charlie had heard, and, mixed with the sound of the music, took it for the voice of some acquaintance.

The rest of the company coincided in this supposition, adding that if he had been thinking of some one at the time, the force of imagination would construe the voice of the Warrigal female into what he fancied he heard. This argument tranquilised his mind a little, still the sound and the words, with the never-to-be-forgotten voice was too real to be erased from his memory or mistaken, and nothing but the improbability of Bella being alive could allay or satisfy his mind, nor could he shake off the strange impression caused by the occurrence.

Another strange circumstance happened at this time, which enveloped him still deeper in the mystery by which he was surrounded.

One evening while sitting in his room after the labours of the day, Donald, who had been on his usual rounds among the shepherds, entered breathless, with a countenance which bespoke terror and hesitation, when his master addressed him as follows:—

"Well, Donald, everything all right among the shepherds? No more attacks of the Warrigals, I hope? Why you look as though you had seen a ghost."

"To tell the truth, sir," said Donald, "If it was not a ghost I saw, I certainly saw something approaching it. But before I proceed any further, I wish to ask a question, which I trust you will answer."

"Certainly Donald, out with it," said Charlie.

"Well then," continued Donald, "I wish to know whether you are (as I have heard) a descendant of the Meoble family."

"Undoubtedly I am, Donald, I hope you have not seen the Cu Glas," replied Charlie.

"I'm sorry to say that I think I have," said Donald; "as I was riding across the plain, just now, my horse began to prick up his ears, and look behind him; it struck me first that the blacks were after me, but, on looking round, I saw a dog following me. Thinking it was a dingo, I slackened my pace and drew my pistol to have a shot at him. He then came up to me, when I beheld in the place of a wild dog, a large grey stag-hound, the very picture of poor Bran you left at home, stood before me. Being positive that no such animal was to be found in this colony, and according to the description of the Cu Glas, I instantly bethought myself that you were a relation of the Meoble family, and that he had followed you to Australia. After sniffing at me for a few seconds, he gave a whine, and left me."

"A rather long journey he must have had Donald. I thought you had left all your superstition on the other side of the line," replied Charlie, smiling at his servant's tenacity to Highland superstition.

As some of my readers may be ignorant of the meaning of the Cu Glas, Mheobail or Meoble's grey dog, I would just say that an ancient impression existed among the Highlanders that a sort of follower, or tuhich, was connected with every old family, which, on certain special occasions, made itself visible—such as before a death, or any important event taking place, or occurring to a member or descendant of the family. Each family had its own tuhich, in the shape of an animal; hence the Meoble had its Cu Glas, or large grey staghound.

Although Charlie did make light of Donald's Cu Glas at the time, he had in a few days, proofs of its existence.

A party of settlers had formed themselves for the purpose of driving from the neighbourhood a tribe of troublesome natives, who were slaughtering the cattle, and harassing the shepherds. After scouring the surrounding woods without falling in with the Warrigals, they, on their return came upon a herd of kangaroos, among which was a white one—a great rarity in the colony—after which the whole party with their dogs gave chase.

The animal flew at a tremendous speed towards a steep-banked creek that intersected the plains, near which stood a clump of scrub; but, on his approaching it, a large grey staghound sprung out, causing the kangaroo to face the creek, which he cleared at a bound. The strange dog followed his example, and, in a short time overtook his prey, which was despatched on the spot; the dog then trotted off towards the forest on the opposite side of the plains.

The astonished equestrians and their outmatched dogs, on coming to the creek, were obliged to pull up, not being able to clear it.

Charlie Stuart, who was among the leading horsemen, gazed with astonishment at the dog, which none of the party knew, when Donald drew up to his master's side, and whispered in his car, "I suppose you will believe your own eyes, and me now." Charlie turned sharply round, and replied, "If Bran exists, that is him."

"No! no!" added Donald, dubiously, "the Cu glas, and no other."