Missing Friends: Being the Adventures of a Danish Emigrant in Queensland (1871-1880)Weitemeyer, Thorvald Peter Ludwig
History
Missing Friends: Being the Adventures of a Danish Emigrant in Queensland (1871-1880)
Weitemeyer, Thorvald Peter Ludwig
Queensland -- Description and travel
their house as soon as I came to Port Denison again, but that I had to
go now, and might not be back for some time. Then Mrs. ---- pressed me
to take some sandwiches with me for dinner, for which I was not sorry,
and then I started for Port Mackay. The first station on the road was
thirty miles out. That place I meant to reach before evening. The
sandwiches went down like apple-pie long before dinner-time, and a
little before evening I gained the station. I was even at that time so
much of a "new chum" that I took it for granted that a traveller would
be made welcome anywhere in the bush whenever he might call. In the
gold-fields where I had been people were ashamed of refusing
hospitality--at least, I had not seen it done. This was the furthest
south I had yet been in Queensland, and as I stood by the creek that
evening and looked over to the neat little homestead lying there so
isolated, it seemed to me quite a beautiful place, and I congratulated
myself that I had reached it just before I got tired and in good time
for supper. I had a bath in the creek and straightened myself up all I
could before I went up to the house. It was getting nearly dark as I
came up the track leading into the garden. I heard some one crack a whip
close behind me, and saw a man on horseback coming along with nearly a
dozen big dogs, who now barked in angry rage all round me. I stood there
a complete prisoner while the man on horseback looked daggers at me. I
suppose he had been out after cattle and had not found those he looked
for; anyhow, he did not appear in a good humour. "Where are you going?"
asked he.
"I thought I might have a bit of supper and a camp here to-night," said
I.
"Supper and camp!" cried he. "Why the ---- don't you camp in the bush?
Ain't you got no rations, neither?"
"No," said I. "I should be obliged to you if you would sell me something
to eat."
"Would you not be obliged to me if I would show you a public-house?"
cried he.
I was too innocent to see his jeer, only I perceived that he did not
want me, so I said, "Public-house? yes, I should be glad;" and added, "I
did not know there was any; how far is it?"
"Oh, not far," said he, and he moved on, and at last called his dogs off
me.
I was in a rage as I moved on, but just past the house the road branched
off, and I thought it necessary to find out which to take, so I sang out
to him, "Which is the Mackay road?"
"The _right_ one," cried he. And along the _right_-hand track I went
mile after mile, but no hotel was there. At last I found it was only a
cattle track, and that I had come out to a big creek, where it branched
off everywhere. The moon was just going down, and it was far out in the
night when I laid myself down to sleep. It was raining heavily by this
time, so that I could light no fire, but, tired and worn out as I was, I
slept as well as if I had lain on a feather bed.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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