Lost Lenore Part 42

The traveller is usually provided with his own blankets, carried in a roll; and these, wrapped around him in the open air, he prefers to the best bed his host could provide for him.

All that we should require from our comrade's acquaintance would be his company, with plenty of substantial food; and with this last article the squatters of Australia are abundantly supplied.

Not wis.h.i.+ng to make a toil, of an excursion intended for amus.e.m.e.nt, we had purchased an old horse, on which we had packed our blankets, with a few articles of food to sustain us, till we should reach the station of the squatter.

We might have accomplished the journey in a single day; but walking twenty miles within twelve hours, was too much like work; and, on the first night, after leaving Melbourne, we had only made about half the distance!

We had sauntered leisurely along, and spent at least three or four hours under the shade of the trees growing by the side of the road.

This style of travelling appeared to suit the old horse, as much as his masters. It was an animal that had seen its best days; and seemed averse to any movement that called for a high degree of speed. Like most of his kind, in the colonies, he was as much at home in one place as another; and, wherever we stopped for repose, he appeared to think that the halt was made for his especial accommodation.

We did not make much effort to undeceive him. He had seen hard times; and we were, probably, the best masters that had ever owned him.

On the second morning, shortly after resuming our journey, we observed some hills, thickly covered with timber--at some distance to the right of our road. We diverged from the direct path--to see whether we could not find a kangaroo, or some other harmless creature, possessing a happy existence, that might be put an end to.

This undertaking was a success--so far as the kangaroos were concerned-- since we were not able to do injury to any of these creatures.

We caught a glimpse of two or three of them, at a distance; but, after roaming about the timbered ranges for several hours, we did not succeed to get within killing distance of any of them.

We returned to the bank of the river--just in time to form our bivouac, before the night fell upon us--having accomplished during the day, about four miles in the direction in which we intended going!

"I am a little disgusted with hunting," said one of my companions, whose name was Vane. "I move that in the morning we keep on to the station; and see what amus.e.m.e.nt is to be found there."

This proposition was carried, by a majority of three. The horse, being indifferent on the subject, was permitted to remain neutral.

"What amus.e.m.e.nt shall we find at your friend's house?" asked Vane of my other companion--who was the one acquainted with the squatter we were on the way to visit.

"Well, I suppose we can have some hunting there," replied the individual thus interrogated; and who always answered, in a polite manner, to the name of "Cannon."

"No, thank you!" said Vane. "We've had enough of that sort of thing to-day. I don't want any more of it."

"But at the station we shall be provided with horses," suggested Cannon; "and, when we get sight of a kangaroo, we can run the animal down."

"That makes a difference," said Vane; "and I don't mind trying it for a day. But is there no other amus.e.m.e.nt, to be had at your friend's house?"

"Not that I know of--unless you make love to my friend's pretty daughter."

"Ah! that _would_ be amus.e.m.e.nt," exclaimed Vane, evidently a little stirred by the communication.

"Is she good-looking?" he asked.

"Yes, extremely good-looking. But, remember, comrades," continued Cannon, "I will allow no serious love-making."

"Give yourself no uneasiness about that," rejoined Vane. "In love affairs, I am never serious. Are you?" he asked, turning to me.

"Yes, very serious," I answered, thinking of Lenore.

"Then you will never be successful," said Vane.

I pa.s.sed half-an-hour in a fruitless endeavour to comprehend the philosophy of this remark, after which I fell asleep.

Next morning, we resumed our route for the squatters' station; and had got about three miles along the road, when we came to a plain, entirely dest.i.tute of timber. Upon this plain was a drove of about a hundred horses. They remained motionless, with heads erect, and nostrils spread, until we had approached within fifty yards of them. They then turned, and galloped off at the top of their speed.

At this moment, a change suddenly showed itself in the demeanour of our old roadster. We had been driving him before us, for the last mile or two, with great difficulty; but, on seeing his congeners take to flight, he suddenly threw up his head; and, either calling out to the drove that he was coming, or to us that he was going, he started towards them.

Before we could get hold of his bridle, he was beyond reach--going at a rate that promised soon to place him among the foremost of the herd.

We had supposed that our hack belonged to some "serious family" of horses; and that the natural sedateness of his disposition had been augmented by years of toil and starvation. We were never more disappointed, than on seeing him forsake us in the fas.h.i.+on he did. A two-year old could not have gone more gaily.

Cannon and Vane started off in pursuit of him; but, as I had a little more experience in colonial horses, than either of my companions, I bade good-bye both to our roadster and my roll of blankets; and, stretching myself under the shade of a tree, I resolved to await their return.

I did wait. One hour pa.s.sed, then another, and a third; and still my companions did not come back.

"I am a fool for remaining here," reflected I. "The squatters station cannot be more than five miles distant; and they have probably gone there? The herd of horses undoubtedly belongs to it; and my companions have followed them home?"

Influenced by these conjectures, I once more rose to my feet; and continued the journey, that had been so unexpectedly interrupted.

Volume Two, Chapter XXV.

JESSIE.

The path led me along the bank of a river. It was the Yarra-Yarra.

As I moved onward, I began to perceive, that I had not been such a fool, after all, in having waited awhile for my companions. My long quiet reverie, in the shade of the tree, had refreshed me. I had escaped the hot suns.h.i.+ne; and I should now be able to reach my destination, during the cool hours of evening.

I did not wish to arrive at the station before Cannon: as I should require him to introduce me.

My solitary journey was altogether an agreeable one. The bright waters of the Yarra-Yarra flowed by my side, while the gentle breeze, as it came softly sighing through the peppermint-trees, fanned my brow.

After advancing, as I supposed, a distance of about four miles--hearing only the cries of the screaming c.o.c.katoo, and the horribly human voice of the laughing jacka.s.s--I was suddenly and agreeably surprised by the barking of a dog. The animal could not be far off; and it was also in the direction I was going--up the river.

"The station cannot be distant?" thought I; and eager to catch a glimpse of it, I hastened forward. I had scarce made a step further, when I was startled by a piercing scream. It was a human voice--the voice of a woman. She who gave utterance to it must be near the spot--concealed by some wattle-bushes on the bank of the river?

I rushed forward; and glided through the bushes into the open ground beyond. I perceived a young woman just on the point of leaping into the river!

My abrupt appearance seemed to cause a change in her design. Suddenly turning towards me, she pointed to the water, at the same time exclaiming, "Save her! O, save her!"

Looking in the direction thus indicated, I saw something like a child--a little girl--struggling on the surface of the water. Partly supported by the drapery of her dress, she was drifting down with the current.

The next instant I was in the water, with the child in my arms.

The bank of the river, for some distance below, was too high and steep for me to climb out again. After making two or three ineffectual attempts, I gave it up; and, supporting myself and the child by a swimming stroke, I permitted the current to carry us down, until I had reached a place where it was possible to scramble ash.o.r.e.

The young girl upon the bank had done all she could to a.s.sist me, while I was endeavouring to climb out; but, fearing, from the state of excitement in which she appeared to be, that she would herself tumble in, I had commanded her to desist.

On my relinquis.h.i.+ng the attempt to ascend the steep bank, she appeared to think that I had done so in despair; and that both the child and I were irrecoverably lost.

Her screams recommenced, while her movements betokened something like a determination to join company with us in the water. This, I believe, she would have done, had I not at that instant reached a place, where the bank shelved down to the surface, and where I at length succeeded in getting my feet upon dry land. In another moment I had placed the child in her arms.

For some time after my getting out of the water, the attention of the young girl was wholly engrossed by the little creature I had rescued; and, without fear of my scrutiny being noticed, I had a good opportunity of observing her.