CHAPTER VIII.
NEW SOUTH WALES.

VOYAGE FROM SINGAPORE TO SYDNEY—​PORT JACKSON—​ FIRST IMPRESSIONS PRODUCED BY SYDNEY—​THE PUBLIC-​HOUSE NUISANCE—​SYDNEY JURIES—​CATTLE DEALERS—​TOWN IMPROVEMENTS—​LAWYERS, DOCTORS, AND CLERGY.

Circumstances induced me, in the early part of 1836, to proceed to New South Wales, where I passed three years; at the expiration of which I returned to the Straits in much better health than I had enjoyed for years before.

The voyage from Singapore to Sydney, viâ Java Head and Bass's Straits, occupies generally from sixty to seventy days; a much longer period than it ought to do, considering the distance, but much time and space are lost in getting southward from Java Head. Crossing the south-east trade-wind, a ship makes nearly as much westing as she does southing, and of course has all the former to run back again on getting the westerly winds in the latitude of 38° to 40° south. We were unfortunate in this part of our voyage, and got no westerly winds till we reached the forty-first parallel of south latitude: from that point they took us to within a few miles of the entrance to Bass's Straits, where we met a strong easterly gale, which detained us several days. This was in March; and I would advise ships bound from India to New South Wales, in the month of January, February, or March, to go to the southward of Van Diemen's Land altogether: they will thus carry the strong westerly winds longer, avoid the easterly gales that blow during these months in Bass's Straits, and probably shorten their passage ten or twelve days. Up the bold and iron-bound shore of this mighty island, from its south-east promontory to the heads of Port Jackson, we ran with a strong southerly gale, and entered the most magnificent of harbours after a seventy days' passage.

The entrance into Port Jackson is between two rocky heads, called, the North and South Head. As the former projects rather further into the Pacific than the latter, and somewhat overlaps it, the stranger would have some difficulty in finding his port, were it not for the light-house on the South Head; but, even with this guide, the inexperienced eye cannot perceive the entrance till right opposite it. We ran in with a heavy sea outside, and had scarcely got a ship's length inside the Heads, when we were in water as smooth as a mill-pond. The steep black rocks on our right looked fearfully near to us, but the water is deep close to them, and no difficulty is experienced in beating up to Sydney Cove, a distance of six miles. The only danger in the way is a shoal or reef, bearing the strange name of the "Sow and Pigs": on it, however, there is a light-vessel, so that it may be safely passed, even at night.

Were all the fleets in the world congregated in Port Jackson, they would not half occupy it. From the Heads to a mile above Sydney Cove, there is a succession of beautiful bays, with deep water close to the rocks, and good anchorage in all directions. The scenery is magnificent, though, to an eye accustomed to that of Singapore, the green is not quite brilliant enough. A succession of hill and dale, with here and there a neat cottage perched on some rocky point, the soil clothed with trees, the waters of the many bays glistening in the sun, and the distant view of the heights and windmills beyond Sydney, form a picture that can scarcely be surpassed.

On landing in Sydney, the traveller from India is ready to exclaim, Surely this is not a town some seventeen thousand miles from England! Every thing reminds him of home: he sees English servants, English tradesmen, English shops; in a word, a regular English town, with its inns and every thing conducted on the English principle. I took up my quarters with my family at the Pulteney Hotel, where we were made very comfortable, and found the terms moderate: the only thing that disappointed us was, the smallness of the bed-rooms. Sydney is a regularly built town, its spacious streets running at right angles with each other. The houses are well built, close to each other, with narrow fronts, and generally three stories high. Here we have George street, Prince's street, King street, Pitt street, Hyde Park, the Surrey Hills,—all recalling, by their appellations, the mother country. Hyde Park, though it comes far short of its namesake in London, is nevertheless a very pleasant spot for a promenade, being nicely shaded by trees planted during Sir R. Bourke's government, and is an ornament to the town. "Government Domain" is a piece of ground in the rear of the Governor's house, reserved by Government for a garden and pleasure-grounds: it is tastefully laid out, and intersected with numerous walks, which are open to the public; and many a pleasant party is formed by the industrious classes, who have only Sunday to spare for a little recreation in the open air. The Surrey Hills are being fast covered with gentlemen's houses, for which a better situation could scarcely be chosen. Woolloomoolloo, or Darlinghurst, as it is now called, is the favourite suburb, and boasts of many handsome mansions, each with its garden. Among these are the respective residences of the Chief-Justice, the Bishop of Australia, and other members of the élite of this metropolis. These houses all command a fine view of the harbour with its shipping and the surrounding scenery.

Sydney has its theatre, its club-house, its stage and mail coaches, while steamers ply all about the harbour, and up and down the coast; an immense convenience to the inhabitants of the northern districts of the Colony. It has a large and well-supplied market, where the gardeners, farmers, &c. from the neighbourhood collect their produce for sale, and where, in good seasons, (that is, seasons in which rain has been abundant,) the housekeeper may procure supplies on reasonable terms. There is also, immediately outside the town, a hay and cattle market, where large herds of cattle and flocks of sheep are constantly for sale, and generally find ready buyers among the numerous emigrants who are daily landing on these shores.

The greatest drawback upon the prosperity of the lower orders in Sydney, arises from the public-houses, of which there are some three hundred, nearly all filled, from morning to night, with men and women, too often spending the last penny they possess in the world. The magnitude of this evil may be estimated from the fact, that, in 1838, the revenue derived from ardent spirits and public-house licences amounted to the enormous sum of 110,000l. sterling. No stranger can take a walk through Sydney without remarking with astonishment the number of these nuisances; and the list of drunkards exhibited at the police every Monday morning, will increase his surprise and disgust. So enormous is this evil on the sabbath-day, that bands of constables patrole the streets for the purpose of clearing them of drunken men and women, whom they consign to the "lock-up." These constables, by the way, are extremely brutal in their manner of handling any unfortunate wight that may fall into their hands; and I have been frequently disgusted at their barbarity. What better conduct, however, can be expected from men, nine-tenths of whom either are or have been convicts? When I was at Sydney, the jail was a most wretched place, not half large enough for the many unfortunate beings it had occasionally to receive. A more commodious one has since been erected, with space enough to allow of the separate classification of debtors, highway robbers, bush-rangers, and felons, which could not be always attended to in the old building. The jail is cleared four times a year by holding criminal courts. The calendar is usually very heavy, and the crimes are generally of a heinous nature. The prisoner has the privilege of choosing whether he will be tried by a civil or by a military jury. Many prefer the latter, knowing that, whatever the verdict may be, it will be a conscientious one. The civil jury is generally composed of publicans, and is always chosen by the Sydney scamps, in the hope that a chum or pal may be found in the list, which is not unfrequently the case. The hardest task the Attorney-General has to perform, is, to get together a respectable jury. When it is composed of civilians, the prisoner is sure to challenge every respectable man in the box. By this means, he generally succeeds in getting twelve men sworn, of whom two or three are of the stamp he requires,—men that will, in vulgar phrase, "swear through a six-inch plank" to get him off. It is no uncommon case for Sydney jurors, on retiring to consider their verdict, to exclaim that their minds are made up, and that they will be d——d if they will give a verdict of guilty. Another source of trouble to all persons concerned with a court of justice here, is the extreme difficulty experienced in extracting truth from witnesses. It is almost impossible to conceive the effrontery with which nine-tenths of these men will swear any thing: they invariably prevaricate and contradict themselves when cross-examined, and are not unfrequently sent from the witness-box to prison, to take their trial for perjury. I remember, on one occasion, seeing a father, mother, and three grown-up daughters, who came into court to sustain a charge against a farmer for an assault on one of the daughters, committed for perjury, while the prisoner was released without a stain on his name. The crime of cattle-stealing, probably, comes oftener before the Judges of New South Wales than any other, particularly since the punishment for it has been changed from death to banishment for life. When death was the penalty, many graziers put up with their loss, rather than prosecute the offender: now, the cattle-stealer is shewn no mercy, from one end of the Colony to the other. The Judge has no discretionary power with this class of offenders, but, in the event of a verdict of guilty, must pass the sentence of banishment for life. If the prisoner came free to the colony, he is banished to Van Diemen's Land: if, on the other hand, he is an old convict, he is sent to rusticate for the remainder of his days on Norfolk Island. Whole droves of stolen cattle are, nevertheless, continually offered for sale in the neighbourhood of Sydney, and ready purchasers are found for them, the risk of being brought up as a receiver not being so great as might be supposed. The regular cattle-stealer has stations in the bush, where he collects his ill-gotten herds, defaces and alters their brands, and keeps them till the new brand has healed and assumed the usual appearance; he then boldly starts for market in open day, and, though he may be met by the former owners of the beasts he is driving, he fears nothing, proof of identity being a difficult task, when a P has been made into a B, and, perhaps, three or four other brands have been added.

During the administration of Sir Richard Bourke, great improvements were made in the streets of Sydney, particularly in the direction of the different wharfs, from which the ascent used to be frightfully steep. To remedy this evil, and at the same time to improve the appearance of the town, Sir Richard cut away the brows of the ridges, and filled up the hollows with the rubbish. This proceeding caused a great outcry among those persons who had property where the cuttings took place, and whose dwellings, in some cases, were many feet above the new level of the street. In the course of time, these proprietors descended from their airy posts, knocked down their old unsightly tenements, cut down their ground to the proper level, and built new and more sightly houses; so that the Governor's proceedings have improved both the streets and the general appearance of the town, as well as enhanced the value of the property wherever the cuttings were made.

Sydney abounds with doctors, lawyers, and parsons, all of whom thrive here. The lawyer especially reaps a rich harvest among a population notoriously fond of litigation, and prone to give cause for it in various ways. As usual, however, the supply has of late exceeded the demand; and the barristers do not now lounge in such stylish carriages as they were accustomed to be seen in some years ago. The medical men's harvest, a sickly season, is not a rare occurrence in Sydney, though the Colony generally is remarkable for its salubrity. The last summer I spent there, the deaths were very numerous, and cast a gloom over the place. Influenza and fevers were the prevailing complaints, and were probably attributable to the dry, hot winds prevalent at the time, together with the badness of the water in common use, and the intemperate habits of the people. The want of a supply of good water is much felt. Every house has its pump, but the water is not fit for any thing but washing, and is, for the most part, so hard, that soap will not dissolve in it. Government had commenced laying pipes to supply the town with this necessary article; but, when I left the Colony, they had not been brought nearer than to within a mile; and I have not heard of their being since carried any further. Water-carts go round, selling water at a penny or sometimes three halfpence per bucket, which is of a good quality.

Previously to the arrival of Sir Richard Bourke, the clergy of the Church of England were the only persons in the Colony that were authorized to marry, to bury, or to christen. Sir Richard put an end to this extraordinary state of affairs, by his celebrated Church Act; and now, every one may be married by the minister of his own persuasion, and follow, in religious matters, the dictates of his conscience. Strange as it may appear, Sir Richard's proceedings in this matter gave great offence to the magnates of the Church of England; and the Archdeacon went home to remonstrate with Her Majesty's Government on the subject. His Reverence took nothing, however, by his motion, Lord Glenelg, the then Secretary for the Colonies, highly approving of all that had been done. But the Archdeacon returned to the Colony a Bishop, and, when I left it, was busily engaged in erecting a cathedral by public subscription.

CHAPTER IX.
NEW SOUTH WALES.

TOWNSHIP OF MAITLAND—​THE PATERSON DISTRICT—​WINTER SPORTS—​THE KANGAROO—​AUSTRALIAN HUSBANDRY—​CONVICT SERVANTS—​BENEFIT OF ENFORCING AN OBSERVANCE OF SUNDAY—​THE HOT SEASON.

From Sydney, I proceeded northward, by steam, to Maitland, on the river Hunter, and thence up the country bordering on those pretty little rivers, the Paterson and the Allyn.

Maitland puts a Scotchman in mind of the "lang toon of Kirkaldy," consisting of merely one long street. From its situation, at the head of the navigation of the Hunter, and the centre of the very first agricultural district of New South Wales, it is likely to become a large, thriving, and important place. The country in the immediate neighbourhood is flat, and the soil rich, yielding most luxuriant crops of wheat and Indian corn.

The season of 1838-39 was a poor one for the farmer: flour rose in price to 60s. the cwt.; and the quartern loaf, before I left the Colony, was selling as high as two shillings and eight-pence. This was a time to test the fertility of the soil round Maitland, as well as the benefit it derives from its proximity to the sea. During this summer, the whole district was favoured with occasional refreshing showers; its crops were forward, and the yield good; and while crops in the southern districts had failed from drought, the Hunter-river farmers were sending their surplus produce to Sydney for sale.

The township of Maitland is divided into two towns or villages, called, East and West Maitland. The former has been fixed upon as the site of the town by Government, and the latter by the public, who have, as usual, shewn more wisdom in their choice than their masters have, inasmuch as they have planted their town within a few hundred yards of the head of the navigation; whereas the Government town is three miles further up the river, and is unapproachable by steamers, or even by small craft. The two, however, will be joined together ere long, (most likely they are by this time,) as they are rising rapidly into importance. For the beauty of the country between Maitland and the sea, I cannot say much: it used to remind me of Lower Bengal, being so very flat, and, in some places, so low as to be frequently flooded.

Like the houses in almost all new towns, those in Maitland form a motley assemblage of buildings of all sizes, shapes, and colours. Many of the smaller and inferior ones were, however, disappearing, even in 1839; and more sightly as well as more commodious buildings were rising up in their place. The traveller will find comfortable accommodation at either the Union or the Rose Inn; and the charges are moderate. He will also have the advantage of meeting settlers from all parts of the neighbouring country, from whom he will readily obtain any information he may require. Frequent cattle-sales are held here; and the beasts are, without trouble or much expense, conveyed to Sydney by steam in twelve hours.

The country from Maitland, going up the Paterson, is undulating and generally fertile; particularly the flat lands on the banks of the river. As you proceed towards the village of Paterson, you observe numerous prettily situated farm-houses with their smiling gardens in front, and fields of wheat between them and the river. At the village, the navigation of this little river ceases; and the country becomes more and more hilly as you proceed higher up: the banks of the river, however, maintain their high character for fertility all the way to its source, and many thriving establishments are seen as the traveller pursues his journey. This part of New South Wales, being so hilly, and consequently somewhat humid, does not answer the sheep-farmer's purposes; but the grazier finds his cattle and horses thrive well on these hills, and the agriculturist finds the valleys yield him excellent crops of tobacco, wheat, and maize. The first is becoming an article of great importance to the Paterson farmer, and has helped many of those gentlemen through the difficulties from which the Colony has been recently suffering.

Land on the Upper Paterson was selling, in 1837, at 20s. per acre, in lots of six hundred and forty acres, of which not more than forty or fifty were arable land, the rest being what is called here, common bush land, thinly covered with trees, and affording tolerable pasture for cattle. Purchasers of land at the above-named rate, have, I believe, found their bargains profitable, notwithstanding the heavy expense they had to incur in clearing and fencing the arable portion of it, in addition to the outlay for a dwelling, out-offices, &c. The settler on a small farm of this description is almost sure to do well, if he is industrious, and provided that he keeps clear of that colonial pest, the public-house. He will have very hard work the first two years; but his returns will well repay him even in moderately favourable seasons, while, in good times, they will be very profitable. A neighbour of mine raised, in the season of 1837-38, on eighteen acres of fresh cleared land, a crop of tobacco, which he cured and manufactured into negro-head on the spot: it yielded one hundred and fifty kegs of 100lb. weight each; and the whole was sold at 1s. 4d. per pound, thus giving a total of 900l. This farmer had fifteen hands, who, in addition to the tobacco, enabled him to cultivate wheat and maize sufficient to supply the farm, and to leave 200l. worth for sale. The outlay for the twelve months, including every thing, did not exceed 350l.; and I have shewn the returns to have been 1100l. This slight sketch will afford an idea of what an industrious farmer may do in the Paterson district. As soon as he can collect a few pounds, they may be profitably invested in the purchase of some good cows, which will not only supply him and his family with butter and milk, but will pay well by their annual increase. In 1838, stock was worth, in this neighbourhood, as under:—Cows, 5l.; Fat Cattle, 7l. 10s.; Working Oxen, 10l.; Brood Mares, 40l.; good Roadsters, 40l.; Sheep,—Ewes, 2l., Wethers, 17s. 6d. Things have changed since that time: but more of this hereafter.

During the three years I resided in Australia, I lived almost entirely on the banks of the Paterson, and the reader may therefore depend upon the correctness of my information regarding every thing in that neighbourhood. It bears a high character for the salubrity of its climate; and very justly so, according to my experience. Not a member of my establishment was ill the whole time we were there; nor do I recollect a serious case of illness among our neighbours. The winter is mild,—just cold enough to make a fire comfortable; while the fine frosty mornings do great good to one who has arrived from India. I used to enjoy them exceedingly, and invariably walked out before breakfast to breathe the fine clear air. The cold weather sets in in April, and continues till September. This is the season to enjoy a gallop in chase of that most extraordinary animal, the kangaroo. Notwithstanding that this part of the country is rather hilly, the hardy horses manage to carry their riders across it in safety. The river abounds with wild duck at this season, as well as with perch and a small fish here called herring, from its resemblance to that fish. The settler may thus not only find amusement for himself in shooting or fishing, but may make a very agreeable addition to his bush fare by his morning's ramble. The flesh of the kangaroo is literally good, for nothing: the tail makes very good soup, but the carcass of the full-grown animal is otherwise of no value to the European, though the native contrives to make an occasional meal of it. The young kangaroo of two or three months old, makes a tolerable substitute for jugged hare, and is frequently on the tables of the settlers. As population advances up the country, the kangaroo retires. I have, however, seen some hundreds of a large size in their native woods, skipping about, and bounding off on the approach of man. The notion, that a kangaroo makes use of his tail in leaping, is a mistaken one. I have watched them bounding along a plain, and could see distinctly that the tail never touched the ground. The female, when pursued, will retain its young one in the pouch with which nature has provided it, till very closely pressed by the dogs: it will then drop the little one, leave it to chance, and make off with increased speed. A full-grown male ("old man," the aboriginals call them) is more than a match for a single dog, and will frequently severely punish a couple of assailants before surrendering. These animals are easily tamed, and make very pretty pets in a garden. Speaking of a garden, we had an excellent orchard, which supplied us with abundance of apricots, peaches, nectarines, figs, green-gages, apples, pears, and oranges, while the garden furnished many a dish of strawberries: for gooseberries, the climate is not cold enough.

In March and April, the farmer is busied in preparing his fields for wheat-sowing, which ought to be finished by the middle of May. Of this grain, the ground here yields a fair crop, though not equal to that usually reaped near Maitland: it is, however, generally more than sufficient for the use of the district, which may be called a grain-exporting one. Some farmers sow wheat on land from which they have just reaped a crop of Indian corn: this proves, I need scarcely say, in the long run, very bad economy. On a farm where wheat, corn, and tobacco are grown, there is always abundance of employment for old and young. Should field labour be suspended by the inclemency of the weather, or by any other cause, the farmer finds his servants full occupation in husking maize, threshing wheat, stripping, shifting, and curing tobacco. I used to keep my convict-labourers employed in light work, such as the above-mentioned, till ten o'clock at night: this I had no right to exact; but my plan was, to keep a regular account current with every convict on the place, giving him credit so much for every extra hour he worked, and letting him know, every Saturday night, how much was due to him, which I allowed him to take out in any shape but money or spirits. Giving him the former, would have enabled him to procure the latter. It was generally taken out in tea and sugar; and I never had the slightest trouble in settling these little accounts. I had ten convicts assigned to me by Government; and I confess that I would rather have had those men than most of the free emigrants that came to the Colony. Over the convict, the master has great power, the knowledge of which on the part of the servant, with good treatment and a firm hand held over him, will make him do a great deal of work. The Government allowance of rations does not include tea, sugar, or tobacco; but most masters allow two ounces of the first and last, and one pound of the second per week; which not only makes the men contented, but gives the master more hold over them, as they stand in fear of his stopping the indulgence in the event of misconduct. From my own observation I should say, that nine-tenths of the misdoings amongst convict-servants, that one hears of in New South Wales, arises from bad masters. What, for instance, can be expected from men assigned to a drunkard, who not only drinks himself, but makes a point of inducing his servants, whether free or bond, to take out their earnings in rum, of which he has always a plentiful supply on hand? What from the servants of a master who neither pays any attention to the Sabbath himself, nor makes those under him observe it; who, on the slightest provocation, drags his men before the magistrate, and swears literally to any thing, to have them flogged; who never affords them the slightest indulgence, and whose whole aim is, to get the greatest possible quantity of work out of them for the smallest possible outlay? Nothing tends more directly to promote the good order of a farm, than mustering everybody on it at noon on Sunday, for the purpose of reading Divine service to them. Setting aside the moral benefit that this practice may be supposed to produce, it puts an effectual stop to distant wandering on that day. A man who has to appear cleanly dressed on Sunday at noon, cannot stray far from home either before or after that hour. On farms where this custom is not kept up, the convict starts at daylight for some haunt where spirits are to be had, to pay for which he has most probably robbed his master; there he spends the day in riot and ribaldry, and reels home about midnight in a state that renders him very unfit for resuming his work on Monday morning. The convict-servant soon finds out what sort of a master he has to deal with, and, to use their own slang, after trying it on for a bit, in nine cases out of ten, he yields to circumstances. Two of mine tried a few of their old pranks at starting; but a timely, though moderate application of "the cat," put an entire stop to them. It is, however, useless to say more on this subject, as the system of assigning servants to private individuals has been done away with by orders from the Home Government. The female convicts are much more difficult to manage than the men, and often set their masters at defiance: they are generally of the lowest and most wretched class of women.

The summer sets in in October, and wheat harvest begins in November. The weather then becomes exceedingly hot, and the heat is occasionally increased by the hot winds that blow from the north-west. These generally (I speak of what I have observed on the Paterson) blow for three days successively, with considerable violence, and do no small injury to the farmer: they are very dry, make the lips crack, and the skin feel as if about to crack; and should they come across a field of wheat just shewing the ear, they would blight it to a certainty. After expending their force for three days, they are usually succeeded by a sharp southerly gale, which is frequently accompanied with rain, and soon makes every thing not actually blighted look green again. Though the sun, during summer, has, apparently, as much power as in India, I have never experienced any injurious effects from it, though frequently exposed to its rays all day, both on foot and on horseback. The European labourer works in the field here through the day, the same as in England, and does not seem to suffer from the heat. During the hot winds, indeed, he is liable to an almost unquenchable thirst, to relieve which, he may drink with perfect impunity a large quantity of sugar and water; but those who have recourse to water only, are sure to suffer for their imprudence, though not seriously.

November and December are the busy months at sheep-stations, all hands being then employed in clipping the wool and preparing it for market.

CHAPTER X.
NEW SOUTH WALES.

BUSH-RANGERS—​THE DROUGHT OF 1838-9—​THE SETTLER'S TROUBLES—​ORNITHOLOGY OF AUSTRALIA—​ABORIGINAL TRIBES.

On the Paterson, we were never troubled with those dangerous characters called in the Colony, Bush-rangers. I can give no reason for their avoiding this neighbourhood, but know that they did avoid it, and that none of the residents in the district ever gave them a thought. Other parts of the Colony are not so fortunate; and loud complaints are constantly being made, of want of protection against those daring marauders. They are runaway convicts, who take to the bush, either to get clear of hard masters, or from a love of old habits; and, now and then, they keep a whole county in a state of alarm. Frequent instances of their daring occurred during my residence in Australia, some of a ferocious character, while others tended more to excite laughter. Three of those scamps visited, at noon-day, a settler's house, and, coolly walking in, called for luncheon, and made themselves quite at home. While thus regaling themselves, they happened to see a violin hanging against the wall, and asked their host, whether he could play. On being answered in the affirmative, they made him strike up, while they danced to his music. When tired of this amusement, they helped themselves to whatever struck their fancy, and then went to the stable, picked out three of the best horses, leaving their own tired jades behind, and rode off. The master of the house was the only person at home at the time, and was unarmed; all his men were engaged in a distant field; and he was threatened with instant death, should he give the slightest alarm. Resistance, therefore, was impossible. Such depredations have latterly been much checked by the exertions of the mounted police. This very efficient body is composed of men drafted from Her Majesty's regiments stationed in the Colony, who are mounted and dressed at the expense of the local Government, and trained for their work. They patrole the country in all directions, and have captured and brought to justice many of the most desperate Bush-rangers, as well as given a check to the several organized bodies of cattle-stealers.

Those parts of the Colony most distant from the capital, are, naturally, most annoyed by bad characters of all description; and many of the settlers trust to their own strength, more than to the police, to defend their property. A friend of mine residing in Wellington Valley, three hundred and fifty miles west of Sidney, used to arm himself and his groom, and sally out in search of any desperate character he might have heard of as being in the neighbourhood: he was more than once successful, and became quite a noted man among the Bush-ranging fraternity, who took good care to keep at a respectable distance from him. Were some other settlers blessed with as much nerve and courage as the gentleman I allude to, Bush-rangers would soon become less numerous.

A settler's life in an agricultural district, is pleasant enough, but it has its drawbacks. A season of drought makes sad work in his fields, and among his flocks. In the season of 1838-39, water became so scarce, that many of the best pasture-lands in our neighbourhood were of necessity abandoned, and the sheep as well as cattle were kept down on the banks of the river, then reduced to a mere chain of pools, the intervening channel being quite dry. The herbage was completely eaten up, and the trees in many parts were cut down, in order that the hungry animals might eat the leaves. One of my neighbours, to save his flocks, turned them on his half-grown crop of wheat, by which means he saved some thousands of sheep, but lost his wheat. Tens of thousands of sheep and cattle, all over the country, died during this season; and grain crops failed everywhere, except on the banks of my three favourite rivers; namely, the Hunter, the Paterson, and the Allyn. There was scarcely a settler on either of these rivers, that had not a little to spare; while, in less favoured parts of the Colony, the farmer had to pay enormous prices for flour to feed his men; and the cart-hire came to nearly as much as the cost of the flour. I knew one gentleman who despatched from Sydney four drays loaded with stores for his stations near Bathurst, each dray drawn by seven oxen; and so great was the scarcity of water and fodder on the road, that only four of the poor animals reached their journey's end, the others having died on the road from sheer starvation. Flour rose during this season to 60l. per ton, and the quartern loaf in Sydney was sold at 3s. 4d.

One of the greatest discomforts attendant upon a summer's residence in the bush of Australia, arises from the swarms of flies, large and small, that infest the house. The large blow-fly is a serious nuisance: many a good joint of meat they spoil, in spite of every precaution. These insects find their way everywhere, and destroy whatever they come near. In the dairy, the greatest care is necessary to prevent these pests from reaching the milk and butter, which they will taint in a second. Scarcely less of a plague than the swarms of flies, are the myriads of fleas which torment the tired farmer, and cheat him out of many an hour's sleep: these noisome disturbers are in the soil, and not all the care the best housewife can bestow, can diminish the number.

While on the subject of the settler's troubles, I may mention, that the cockatoos annoy the farmer in Australia, as much as the crows do in England: they attack his wheat and maize when the grain is ripening, by hundreds; indeed, I may say, by thousands; and it requires a very active watchman to keep them from doing serious injury to the crop, not so much from the quantity they eat, as from what they destroy and scatter. These birds, which, by the bye, furnish an excellent dish that occasionally formed part of our dinner, are remarkably cunning: while the flock are busily feeding on the farmer's wheat, two of their number are left on some neighbouring trees to keep watch; these, on the approach of danger, give a loud, shrill scream, which at once puts the thieves to flight, and renders it very difficult for the sportsman to get a shot at one of them. Besides the common white red-crested cockatoo, the woods are the home of the black species; a rare bird, that I have never seen elsewhere. Those brought to Singapore by the Celebes traders, are a bastard species. On what they feed, I am not aware, never having seen them in the wheat or maize fields. During the winter months, neither white nor black cockatoos are to be seen; nor have I ever heard to what place they migrate. The bird-fancier might here make as beautiful a collection as I have ever seen. The different varieties of the parrot tribe are countless, and extremely pretty: the king-parrot, the lowrie, and the mountain parrot, are, perhaps, the most beautiful. Then, there is the pretty little diamond sparrow, so called from its size, its habits, resembling those of the common sparrow, and its plumage, which exhibits a diamond pattern of black, white, and blue. Of the hawk tribe, the varieties are numerous: the largest is the eagle-hawk, which now and then carries off a lamb from the flocks of careless shepherds. Were I an ornithologist, I might write a goodly volume on the birds of this country; but I must content myself with these few notices; not forgetting, however, to mention the stately black swan, a bird becoming every year more rare.

We used frequently to be visited by tribes of the aboriginal inhabitants of this vast continent. They are, without exception, the most complete savages I have ever come across. They have no homes, no occupation beyond procuring food for the day, and think nothing of to-morrow, which they literally leave to take care of itself. They resist almost every attempt to induce them to labour, and, if clothed to-day by some good Samaritan, will, in all probability, appear naked at his door to-morrow, having given away their clothes to some convict, in exchange for a pound of flour or an ounce of tobacco. In their habits, they are literally wanderers on the face of the earth, shifting their camp from place to place as game grows scarce. In rainy weather, the only precaution I ever saw them take, with a view to protect themselves from wet, was the building a small hut, not much larger than a bee-hive, constructed of the boughs of trees, with a small aperture on one side, into which the "black-fellow"[17] thrusts his head and shoulders, and sleeps as sound as a top, his legs and the lower half of his body being exposed to wind and rain. In winter, they may be seen encamped round a fire after their day's hunting, all naked, and stretched on the ground, with their feet towards the fire; the men smoking, if they have any thing to smoke, and the wretched-looking women composing themselves to sleep in the same natural state as their lords and masters.[18] They suffer much, occasionally, from hunger, and may then be induced to do a day's work about the farm, for which they will consider themselves well paid by a pound of flour and an ounce of tobacco each. This reward must not be given them, however, till their work is done: give it beforehand, and not a hand's turn will they do, but decamp at once to enjoy their dinner. As soon as they have eaten their bread, they light the pipes, and never cease smoking till their tobacco is finished. Some of the men are remarkably well made, and strong, able-bodied fellows. One who spent a week now and then in my kitchen, doing any thing the cook told him, for the promise of a supper, was a tall, good-looking fellow, named Jamie. They are one and all christened in the bush by any European they may ask for a name. A father applied to me one day for a name for his little boy, and I forthwith called him "Donald;" at which the old man and the rest of the tribe laughed heartily, saying, "All same your horse." I had then a pony called Donald. To resume: Jamie was frequently clothed by me, and was asked to sleep in the kitchen, or in one of the out-offices, but all to no purpose: his clothes, he never kept a week, and he invariably took his departure at sun-set to sleep in the open air. In our district, I believe, the blacks were harmless people; but, on the Upper Hunter, on Liverpool Plains, they have been not only very troublesome, but even dangerous neighbours. Many settlers have suffered severely from their depredations; and several shepherds and stock-keepers have been murdered by them. Would they content themselves with killing a single bullock or two or three sheep, when suffering from hunger, one might excuse them; but I have known twenty-five cows killed by a single tribe in one night, the fat and kidneys taken away, and the carcases left on the ground. This, to say the least of it, was a mischievous waste of property; and such proceedings naturally led the settlers to retaliate. The consequences were serious, and led to extreme measures, ending, in more than one instance, in bloodshed. There seems to be no room for doubt, that many of these poor creatures have been murdered by stock-keepers on the mere suspicion of being concerned in such crimes. This fact, however, does not justify the Government in offering a hundred pounds reward for the discovery of the offender, when a black happens to be murdered by a white, and only twenty-five pounds reward, when the murderer is black, and the victim white.

What would my fair countrywomen say to the "black-fellow's" mode of taking unto himself a wife? On making up his mind as to the object of his choice, he proceeds by night to the camping-ground of the fair one's tribe; searches her out among the sleeping beauties; deals her a blow on the head with his club, (to which an Irishman's shillelah is a twig,) and carries off the stunned and senseless wretch to his own camp. This ceremony makes them man and wife, and no further notice is taken of the affair. The different tribes are constantly at war: but I have never heard of any very serious consequences arising from their feuds. The day of battle is generally spent in painting themselves red, dancing the war-dance in presence of their foes, and, probably, exchanging a few spears towards its close. Their arms consist of spears, clubs, and the boomerang. The latter is a very extraordinary weapon, which they throw to a great distance, making it return to the thrower when it has described its revolution, and probably hit some unfortunate wight on the head in its course through the air. This weapon is of hard wood, about three feet long, two inches broad, a quarter of an inch thick, and in the form of a crescent: it is thrown against the wind, and describes a circle in its course. The spear is of cane, hardened by fire at the end, and is thrown with great force and dexterity. No black who can by any means obtain a tomahawk, is ever without one, generally of English make: with this, they are very expert at felling trees, and, with its aid, will climb a tree which it would take two pair of arms to encircle. The "black-fellow" cuts a small notch about three feet from the ground; in this, he inserts the toe of one foot, holding on by one hand while he cuts another hole three feet further up to receive the other foot; and thus he proceeds till he reaches the top. The dead trees of Australia, which are all hollow, are a favourite resort of the opossum. In search of them, the black-fellow will ascend a tree in the manner just described; and there he will sit while his companions below dig under the roots, and light a fire, the smoke from which ascending the trunk of the tree, as a chimney, speedily dislodges the game. This is dexterously pounced upon by "blacky," the moment its head appears peeping from the aperture at the top of some of the branches. I have never known the tomahawk thrown by them, as it is by the Indian of America.

My family was once thrown into considerable alarm by an ill-looking tribe of blacks who formed their camp immediately in front of our cottage: they were strangers, and had no business there. On making inquiries about them, I found that they came from a neighbouring district, and were endeavouring to evade the police, who were in search of them for the murder of an unfortunate shepherd. Not at all liking such neighbours, I took advantage of their absence, one day, when they were gone kangaroo-hunting, and set fire to their bee-hive huts. On their return at sun-set, they took the hint, and we saw no more of them.

Among these tribes, it is a rule, that blood must be had for blood; and this leads them, when one of their number falls by the hand of a white man, to kill the first European they happen to meet, in retaliation. It would scarcely be reasonable to expect these ignorant savages to see the injustice of this proceeding; yet, it is hard, that an unoffending person like the shepherd above referred to should be slaughtered in revenge of the murder of a man he had never seen.

The number of dialects, or apparently different languages, spoken by the aborigines of Australia, is very remarkable. Those residing in and about Sydney cannot converse with those on the Hunter, who, in their turn, are ignorant of the dialect spoken on Liverpool Plains; and this is the case throughout the Colony. When Sir Edward Parry was manager of the Australian Agricultural Company's affairs, he made a tour of inspection through its estates, taking with him some few black followers as guides. They were not fifty miles from their home, when, to Sir Edward's astonishment, he heard them speaking English to their countrymen of the districts through which they were passing. On inquiring the reason, he was told, that the two parties were entirely ignorant of each other's language.

I never could make out the religious notions of these aboriginal tribes, further than that they believe in a future state. They do not appear to have much affection for their children, if one may judge from the way in which they treat them; yet, the mother bemoans the loss of one of her little ones very piteously, daubs her face and arms with lime in token of mourning, and spends many days in the neighbourhood of the grave. In common with all savage nations, the Australian blacks treat their women ill. These poor creatures get the worst of all their food, with the hardest of all their work; and are frequently very severely beaten by their hard and ruthless taskmasters. Degraded as are these aborigines generally, those in the immediate vicinity of Sydney are a more abject race than their more fortunate brethren who inhabit the distant parts of the Colony. This may be partly, if not wholly accounted for, by the facility with which at Sydney they can obtain ardent spirits, to procure which they will do almost any thing. I have never seen human beings elsewhere reduced to a state of such utter degradation and misery as these poor people exhibit. To shew how much they dislike any thing like labour, I may mention, that Government, on one occasion, set aside a piece of land for a tribe near Sydney, and had it cleared, tilled, and planted with maize for their use, exacting from them a promise that they would tend the growing corn, keep it clean, and gather the crop when ripe: they did neither the one nor the other, but, when called on to gather the grain that was to be their own, said, it was too much trouble. The result was, that the corn was plucked for them; and no further attempt was made to induce them to work.

Several praiseworthy individuals have from time to time endeavoured to educate and civilize young boys of this unhappy race. One was sent to England, where he was kept at school till he was fifteen years of age; and he then returned to his native country. He had not been two days on shore in Sydney, when, meeting with some of his countrymen, he threw off his European clothing, and started for the bush, whence there was no getting him back.

Like most savages, the natives are seldom if ever known to express surprise or astonishment under any circumstances. Shortly before leaving the Colony, I saw a native, early in the morning, standing on one of the heights overlooking the harbour of Sydney. On my asking what he was about, his reply was: "I belong big river (300 miles distant); first time come Sydney; come here see ship; budgerie su (pleasant sight); never see ship or salt water before." This poor savage had come three hundred miles on foot, assisting a drover with a herd of cattle; he had never before seen either the sea or a ship in his life; and yet there he stood, looking at these, to him, most extraordinary objects, with a countenance as placid and unmoved as if they had been daily sights from his infancy. On questioning him, I could extract nothing further from him: he would not allow that he was astonished, but simply repeated, "budgerie su." While idling away an hour one day in the criminal court, I saw an aboriginal black tried for murder. Nothing could exceed the perfect indifference that he exhibited throughout the whole scene. When called upon, through an interpreter, to plead guilty or not guilty, his reply was: "I did it because he (the deceased) stole my wife." He would not condescend to deny an act which he considered himself justified in committing. This plea of justification, the learned Judge directed to be taken as one of not guilty; and the result was, the prisoner's acquittal.

Sir F. L. Mitchell, the Surveyor-General of New South Wales, in his admirable journal of his three celebrated expeditions into the interior of Australia, has described the aboriginal inhabitants of that portion of the country named by him, "Australia Felix," as a race of men altogether superior to those found in other parts of this continent. This race may, and probably will be found formidable neighbours for the first settlers to encounter. Their country, from the description given by its discoverer, must be a very fine one; and should it prove to be regularly refreshed by rain, it will be an invaluable addition to the Colony.

The fate of the tribes I have been endeavouring to describe, is a melancholy one: they are fast disappearing from the face of the earth; and one or two more generations will, in all human probability, see the last of them.