Missing Friends: Being the Adventures of a Danish Emigrant in Queensland (1871-1880)Weitemeyer, Thorvald Peter Ludwig
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Missing Friends: Being the Adventures of a Danish Emigrant in Queensland (1871-1880)
Weitemeyer, Thorvald Peter Ludwig
Queensland -- Description and travel
When I properly understood the matter, I
would always place my wash-basin in the bed, filled with water, so that
when the time came I could lean over and drink, because I was too weak
to lift a billy can or a pint pot off the floor. But when I upset this
basin, which happened once, my sufferings were intense. I remember on
two or three occasions when I had no water how I tried to get out of
bed, how I fell and lay on the floor for hours, then crept on my hands
and knees out around the shed to where a bench stood with a tub of water
on. There I would sit or lie over the water for hours and drink. Such a
matter as this excites no sympathy in a place like that. There were now
a lot of other men, and most of them had a touch of the fever as well.
If I had slept among other men I have no doubt some one would have given
me a drink, but to ask any one to sit up with me, or disturb their
night's rest on that account, would have been asking too much, I fear.
Then when I had been alone before the new hands arrived, I had shared
pot-luck with my employer and his family, but now it seemed as if one
was only lost in a crowd. I had nothing to eat but half-putrid corned
beef and bread, served on a dirty tin plate, tea of the cheapest sort,
boiled in a bucket, and sweetened with dirty black sugar, was my fare
too. How could any sick person eat or drink such stuff? As I write now
it seems to me it is enough to cause a strong man to die of slow
starvation, and yet it is the ordinary average diet put before working
men all over the Queensland bush twenty-one times a week. One day Mrs.
---- came down and asked me very sympathetically how I was getting on.
So I showed her my plate with my dinner on, covered with flies as it
was, and very unappetizing indeed, and upbraided her and her husband for
serving such rations. "Dear me, how shocking! None of the other men
complained. Was the meat bad?" Then she assured me I should have
anything I wished for, and for the last few days I was there I was
constantly invited to their own table, although I scarcely could eat
anything even there. But I thought I had been there long enough, and
when the mailman came in his boat I took a friendly leave of my employer
and his family, and was assisted down into the boat. I had with me then
my cheque for a hundred pounds sterling, and another for seven or eight
pounds.
CHAPTER VII.
LEAVING THE HERBERT--RAVENSWOOD.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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