Chapter 17

One day old Mat came to Joseph and begged him to look at the sheep. He was afraid something was the matter with some of them. Joseph examined narrowly all those which Mat thought were sick. There was no doubt that they had the distemper. It had not spread far yet. A stop must be put to it. He at once sent off Ben on horseback to acquaint Mr Ramsay, and to bring back tobacco and other stuff for making washes. Meantime he separated the diseased animals from the rest, which he told Mat to drive to a fresh part of the run where they had not been for some time. He warned him on no account to go near any other flock. Meantime he rode round to the nearest hut to advise the shepherds to look to their sheep, to see if the distemper had showed itself among them, that they might take steps to stop it. At one of the stations he met Peach. It was one like his own, with three men, one of them having charge of a back run with cattle. Peach was not very friendly. "I should think Ned Marks here would know as soon as a fresh hand whether or not his sheep had the distemper," he remarked with a sneer. "Some people, however, are fond of busying themselves about what doesn't concern them; but I've just to say that they may go too far some day and find that others won't stand it."

Joseph made no answer, he was resolved to do his duty, whatever came of it.

"Never mind him; I'm not offended," said Marks, giving a wink to Peach, which he fancied Joseph did not observe. "Here, Rudge, to show that there is no ill-will between us, do you take a glass of this good rum. I got a few bottles the last time I was down at the store. There are not many left."

"No thank you, mate," answered Joseph. "I made up my mind when I came out to this country never to touch liquor, and I find not only that I can get on without it, but that I am much the better without it. I used to take it in England, and I am ashamed to say how much of my wages went in drink. I wish to be friendly with you, Marks, but I shouldn't show my good feeling by drinking your rum."

"As you like," said Marks. "It isn't often you have such a chance in the bush. However, it's liberty hall, and no man is forced to do what he doesn't like."

Peach now seemed to take a hint from Marks, and pretended once more to be friendly with Joseph. "I don't bear malice, Rudge," he said, holding out his hand. "May be one of these days you'll see things in a different way, and understand that I wanted only to do you a good turn."

"I hope not," answered Joseph, going towards the door. "I think I understand you pretty clearly; and I pray that I may never be brought to call black white."

"A canting hypocrite!" exclaimed Peach, as Joseph rode off.

Joseph offered up a silent prayer, "Lead us not into temptation."

As the stockman rode on he saw by the look of the sky that one of those fierce storms which occasionally visit parts of Australia, was threatening. He had reached his farthest point from home. The country was wild. There was no regular road, only a track which it required sharp eyes to find out in some places. He pushed on, hoping to get home before the storm broke. Presently, however, loud peals of thunder burst from the sky; the lightning darted along the ground and among the trees with a crackling noise, which made his horse start from side to side. Down came the rain like a water-spout, and the wind sprung up and blew in fierce gusts, tearing off huge branches of the trees, and now and then uprooting the trees themselves. Joseph saw that it would be dangerous to take shelter under any of the trees, so he kept as much as he could in the open ground.

He had not gone far when he heard a cry. It was from some fellow-creature, he was certain of that. He looked about on every side, and at last saw that a falling tree had struck down a black man, who lay beneath it unable to move.

Joseph fastening his horse to a stump, ran towards the poor fellow. He was alive, and his body seemed uninjured, but his foot had been caught by the trunk and held him fast. Had he been alone he must have died a horrible death, for it was clear that he could not have released himself. The black fellow saw Joseph coming, and made signs to show his gratitude, uttering a few words of broken English. When, however, Joseph came to look at the tree, he found that it would be no easy matter to get the poor black from under it. He had an axe in his belt, and with it he cut down a young sapling for a handspike, but when he tried it he found that he could not lift the heavy trunk. Then he set to work to dig under the foot, but the ground was as hard as a rock.

The black then made signs that he might drive something under it, and so lift the tree.

"He means wedges," thought Joseph, and at once lopping off a thick branch, shaped out several; the black, in spite of the pain he was suffering, watching him with evident satisfaction. With a thick club, which served as a hammer, Joseph drove in the wedges, and in time got the tree lifted enough to draw out the black's leg. He then carried the poor fellow to a bank and examined his foot. It had been caught in a slight hollow, and was not as much hurt as might have been expected. As well as he could with the handkerchief off his neck, he bound up the injured limb, and then placed him on his horse.

"I shall be late at home, but I cannot let this poor black lie out here in the woods by himself," he thought; "it is my duty to take him to my hut and tend him till he is well. The black must have been suffering a great deal of pain, but he bore it bravely."

"What is your name?" he asked, as he walked by his side.

"Troloo, good white man," answered the black, "Troloo lub white man."

It was pleasant to Joseph to think that the young black was grateful. For some time the storm continued, but Joseph with his injured companion, pushed on through it. On his way out he had crossed a small creek with the water not much above his horse's fetlocks. As he drew near the spot he saw that instead of the quiet blue pool, where there had been no current, there was now a foaming and roaring torrent, its muddy waters carrying down numerous roots and branches of trees. Still he thought that there could be no difficulty in crossing at that spot, and was leading the horse in, when Troloo made signs that there was much danger in so doing, and pointed higher up the creek, trying to show that they might there cross with greater safety. Joseph, like a wise man, therefore turned back. On calculating the depth of the water by the height of the bank, he judged that it was up to his arm pits, and that had he stepped into any hole, he might have sunk with his head under also.

"Ah, if it had not been for the black, I might have tried to cross, and have lost my life," he thought.

After going up the creek some way, the black pointed to a spot where the ground was very smooth and hard on either side.

"Dere, dere, cross now," he said, and made signs to Joseph to get up on the horse.

"No, friend, a wetting won't do me any harm, and if the horse was to stumble, with two on his back, it might be a bad job for you."

Joseph walked into the stream boldly, leading the horse. The water rose up to his knees, then to his thighs. He kept his eyes up the stream on the watch for any branches or trunks of trees which might be floating down. Now by stopping, now by pushing on fast, he was able to avoid several, others he turned aside. For some time the water was up to his middle. The black pointed across the creek, and made signs that there was nothing to fear. At last he reached the opposite bank. Scarcely had he got out of the torrent, than the rain came down still harder than before; the wind blew furiously, tearing off branches from the brittle wood trees and sending them flying along before it. The thunder roared and rattled with long continued peals from the sky, and the lightning flashed more brightly than ever, darting, it seemed, from cloud to cloud, and then went hissing along the ground like a number of fiery serpents. The horse started and trembled, now sprang to one side, now to the other, so that Joseph could scarcely keep the black man from falling off. Still, like a true Briton, he pushed on. There was no use looking for shelter, none was to be found nearer than his own hut. Suddenly a flash darted from a cloud just overhead, and seemed to strike the ground directly in front of Joseph. A moment before he had seen clearly. He made a few steps forward expecting again to see his way, but the bright light alone was in his eyes; nothing could he see. He rubbed his hand over his face.

"Oh, I am blind," he cried out in his grief.

It was some time before the black could understand what had happened. He uttered some expressions showing his sorrow, in his own tongue. "Come, no fear, black fellow show way," he said at last, taking Joseph's hand. Thus they journeyed on, Joseph holding on to the horse, and Troloo guiding it.

The storm seemed to have spent its fury. After this the rain ceased, the thunder no longer rattled in the sky, nor did the lightning flash, and the clouds passed away. Joseph had no difficulty in knowing this. He was, however, not at all certain that Troloo was leading him towards his hut. This made him anxious, because, though he could not be very far wrong, it would delay his arrival at home. He tried to talk with the black man, but they could not make out what each other said, so they became silent. On and on they went.

In the morning he had galloped quickly over the ground; now, he was creeping along, each moment expecting to fall. Suddenly his dog Trusty started off and gave a cheerful bark, which was answered by Toby, Sam's dog, and by old Mat's dogs, all of which came running out, and he felt them licking his hands. He cried out, "Any one at home?" Presently he heard his wife's voice, and Bobby's and the rest of the children.

"Why, Joseph, what is the matter?" exclaimed poor Sarah, running up to her husband.

"Why wife, I've a cross to bear, I fancy," answered Joseph, taking Sarah's hand which she put out; "God knows what's best. If I am to remain blind, He has some reason for it. But here is this poor black fellow, his foot is terribly hurt, and he is in great pain; look after him, I can wait, or I'll bathe my eyes in warm water, I can do nothing else."

With an aching heart, Sarah placed her husband in a chair, and then helped the black off the horse, and with the aid of Bobby and Mat, who came up, carried him into the hut, and placed him on Sam's bed. She then bathed his foot and bound it up in a wet cloth, and then gave him some food. Troloo was evidently grateful, and took every means to show it. Night came, but Joseph still remained totally blind.

STORY FIVE, CHAPTER 3.

When the next morning broke, Joseph found himself as blind as before. It was a sad trial to him. "So many things to be done, and I not able to work," sighed Joseph.

"The boys and I and Sally will do our best, and may be, in a day or two you will be able to see," answered Sarah. "You've often said, `God's will be done;' we must say it now, husband."

"Yes, Sarah, yes, I do say it. And how is the poor black fellow?" asked Joseph.

"His foot seems terribly bad. I wish there was a doctor to look to it, or I am afraid that he will never walk again; I've kept on bathing it, and he bears the pain wonderfully."

Early in the day, Sam returned with the tobacco and other stuff for washes, and he and old Mat set to work to mix them, and to wash the diseased sheep. While they were at work, a horseman was seen drawing near to the station, but not from the direction the master would come. It proved to be young Mr Harlow. He had heard of the distemper having broken out among his neighbour's sheep, and wished to know what was to be done to prevent its spreading.

On learning of the accident which had happened to Rudge, he went in to see him. "I have studied as a surgeon, and may, I hope, be of use to you," he said. "From what I see, I have great hopes that you will soon recover with the help of remedies I will apply."

Joseph thanked him, and begged that he would look at Troloo's foot.

"This is a more difficult case, but the natives' hurts heal so rapidly, that I have little doubt that he also will soon be well," he observed.

It is not necessary to describe the means he employed. He rode over every day, though his time was of great value, and in the course of a few days, Joseph declared that he could once more see light and people moving about. Troloo's foot was also nearly well. "A white man's would have taken twice the time," Mr Harlow observed.

Troloo, however, showed no desire to go away; "Black fellow lub Jo, work for Jo," he said.

Of course Rudge was very glad to get his assistance, though he knew that he could not depend long on him, and that any moment he might set off again by himself. He could help with the sheep, but cattle have such a dislike to black men that they will not let one come near them.

When Mr Ramsay arrived, he highly approved of all Rudge had done, and was much concerned to hear of his blindness, though Mr Harlow assured him that he would soon recover his sight, as he shortly did. Joseph and his wife were very grateful to Mr Harlow.

"Do not thank me, I am but making a right use of the talents God has given me," he answered.

He brought with him a number of small books and tracts, and told Joseph that he should be glad to have them lent to all the neighbouring shepherds and stockmen. "We will also meet together for prayer and reading God's word, when next I come over," he said.

This was done; and not only old Mat but several other shepherds and hut-keepers came to Joseph's hut which he had prepared for them. This was the beginning of a Church in the wilderness, for after this, Mr Harlow often came to the station, and the Miss Harlows rode over and brought books and pictures for the children and work for Sally, and stopped to show her how to do it, and also to teach the children to read.

Joseph and Sarah were very grateful. They had long felt that though they were getting good wages and saving money, it was a sad thing not to have their children taught nor be able to go to a place of worship. "Sam is not so bad a scholar, and Bobby and Sally read pretty well, but Nancy and Bill and Mary will have little chance of getting any learning," said Joseph to Mr Harlow. "If we could have a master sometimes, it would help us; and then when there is less work to be done, the elder children can help the younger; but generally they come home so tired that all they can do is to take their suppers and go to bed."

Mr Harlow promised that he would talk the matter over with Mr Ramsay, and see what could be done for the children on his and the neighbouring runs. In the meantime, he left some small books and tracts, which could be carried in the pocket and read at spare moments.

It was a joyful day to Joseph Rudge and to his wife and children when he was able to say that he could see as well as ever. They did not forget to thank God who had been thus kind to them.

"It would have been terrible if you had been struck blind all alone in the forest," said Sarah, "I have often thought of that, and what a mercy it was that you found the black."

"Yes indeed, wife," answered Joseph, "I might have been drowned, too, if I had tried to cross the creek by myself. One thing I know, and I often thought of it while I was without sight, that God orders all things for our good, though we do not always see the why and the wherefore things are done."

It took a long time before the sheep were quite cured of the distemper and the flocks were allowed to mingle as before.

Sam and Bob and old Mat had worked very hard, but they could not have got on alone, if Tom Wells had not been sent to help them. Tom was a first-rate rider, and a fair stockman, so he was sent to look after the cattle. He was lodged in old Mat's house. He had been thus employed only a day or two, when Peach managed to meet him.

"Stock keeping better than bullock driving, lad, eh?" were the first words Peach uttered.

"I should think so, mate," said Tom.

"More profit to be made of it," observed Peach.

"Wages is wages," observed Tom. "If I agree for so much, I take it, and must be content; if I take more than that, it's robbery to my mind, and with that I've no business."

"Oh those are Rudge's notions, he's been putting you up to that sort of stuff," remarked Peach, with a look of contempt; and then he muttered, "But I'll be even with him and you too."

"They are the notions of all decently honest men," said Wells, turning away from the tempter.

Peach was not a man to give up a plan he had once formed. As he could not get the help of Rudge and Wells, he tried other means to get possession of his master's cattle. He had always made friends, as far as he could, with the blacks, a tribe of whom often pitched their tents near his hut. He was a sober man, and did not mind parting with his rum. All sober men are not good men, though drunkenness rarely fails to lead to crime and punishment. He had looked out for the blacks, and had told them that they must help him to get the cattle. They had managed from time to time to drive off a few calves.

As has been said, cattle have a fear of blacks, and, scenting them at a long distance, scamper off as soon as they draw near.

Thus Peach could not get much help from his friends. He now set off again on horseback to pay them a visit; for they were camped some miles away. He took care to go provided with presents, a few coloured handkerchiefs and knives, and a few other things.

On his way, his horse put his foot into a hole, and fell. Peach was thrown over his head. He was not much hurt, so he got up, and catching his horse, mounted again.

"Now I am on you I will pay you off, you brute," he exclaimed, thrashing the poor animal with his heavy whip. The horse dashed on for some way, then stopped short. He was dead lame. In vain Peach tried to make him move. To return would have taken longer than to go on; so dismounting, he led on the animal, hoping to reach the blacks' camp before night-fall. He went on and on, and it grew darker and darker, till he thought that he should have to camp out. He had no fancy to do that by himself. There were no wild beasts in the country to fear, and he would have told any one who asked him, that he did not believe in ghosts and spirits and such-like gentry; still there was something he did not like when he was all alone in the dark woods at night. His conscience was not at ease. There were strange sounds and sights he could not make out. He had no almighty Friend to whom he could offer up a prayer for protection; no wonder that he was a coward. He still went on, though he could hardly find the way; when on a sudden he stopped, and as he leaned forward, staring with wide open eyes and hair on end, he saw a blazing fire in the midst of an open glade, and on the farther side a hideous band of skeleton forms dancing and twisting and turning in all sorts of ways. Now, after leaping about furiously for a moment, they would on a sudden disappear, and not one was to be seen.

For a minute or more all was quiet, and Peach hoped that he had seen the last of them; when like a flash they all came back and jumped about as before. He stood trembling with fear, he would have run away if he could, but where was he to run to?

This fearful show went on for some time, when the most fearful shrieks and yells were heard.

"Why I do believe it's the black fellows dancing a corroborree," he muttered to himself. "What a fool I was! Now they yell! I make out their voices."

Leading his horse, which was more frightened at the shrieks than he had been by the sight of the skeletons, he walked into the middle of a group of blacks. He now saw by the light of the fire, which was made to blaze up brightly, that on the front of each of the men a skeleton was painted with white chalk. These were seen when the light of the fire fell on them, but when they turned round and only their black backs were towards the fire, they seemed to have gone away altogether. He knew that it would not do to show the anger he felt at the fright they had given him. He stood quiet, therefore, with some of the old men looking on till the dance was over. He was known to most of the natives, who welcomed him in the odd jargon in which the white settlers and blacks talk to each other.

"He would tell them by-and-by what he had come to see them about, and in the meantime he had some presents to make," he said.

The delight of the savages at getting the handkerchiefs and knives was very great. He told them that there were more for them if they would do what he wished. He then called some of the elders round him, and told them what he advised them to do. He told them that he was the black fellows' friend, as they had proof, but that the other white men in those parts were their enemies, and that they should drive them away if they could, or kill them, and that then, they might have all their sheep and cattle for themselves. The poor savages seemed to understand this sort of reasoning, and promised to do as he advised. He sat up till a late hour talking with them. The whole party then lay down in the "gunyio," or camp, with a few boughs or sheets of bark over their heads as their only covering, though most of them had bright fires burning at their feet outside. It was some time before Peach's busy brain would let him go to sleep. At last he went off, and began to snore. Not long after, a black might have been seen passing close to him. "Oh you one white villain!" he exclaimed, shaking his head at him, "you call black man savage, you ten times worse; but black fellow teach you that you no more clever than he."

Saying this, the black disappeared among the trees around.

STORY FIVE, CHAPTER 4.

A short time before this, Troloo, who had learned to be very useful with the sheep, had gone off without giving any warning. It was the way of black fellows, so Joseph could not complain, though he was very sorry to lose him, especially when there was so much work to be done.

Joseph did not let any of his family be idle. They had learned to make and to do all sorts of things. They made all their candles and soap. They spun wool when their fingers had nothing else to do, and then knitted it into socks and waistcoats. The boys could knit, and when they were out shepherding, they had plenty of time to make all the socks they could wear. The younger ones, among other things, learned to make baskets out of long reeds, which they gathered near the creek. One day, when they had used up all their reeds, Nancy, with little Bill and Mary, set out to gather a fresh stock. When they got down to the edge of the creek they saw some long reeds growing on the other side. "See, see, how fine and tall they are, Nancy; we must go over and get them," cried little Bill. "I know a place higher up where we can cross easily."