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
believe is common to all convalescents, or a couple of hours before
meal-time I would lie on my bed watching the sun and its shadows on the
floor so that I might be prepared and lose no time the moment the man
came with the dinner. Oh, for the ravenous hunger with which I could
eat! Although I had double the ordinary allowance, yet after a month's
stay in the hospital, I had to leave it for very hunger's sake. I then
settled my bill with the doctor, who charged me very moderately, and
went to live in a hotel in town. When I was perfectly cured and myself
again I could easily have obtained work in town at my trade for four
pounds per week, but I had a sort of dislike to the place, which decided
me to go up to the gold-diggings and try my luck there. The nearest
diggings were at Ravenswood, some hundred and thirty miles inland. Other
diggings were scattered behind that place, but to reach them I
understood I had to go to Ravenswood first, and that it was as good a
place as any. I bought two horses, with all necessary appendages, such
as saddle, pack-saddle, bridles, &c. They cost me about thirty pounds. I
put thirty pounds more into the bank as a sort of reserve fund in case
of accident, and after paying my way so far, and buying a few necessary
clothes, I had only some nine or ten pounds left. So one morning I
packed the one horse with my swag, containing clothes and blanket, in
the large saddle-bags. I had small bags containing flour, tea, sugar,
and other necessary things for a journey through the bush, because,
although the road I had now to travel was a beaten track, yet it is a
Queensland custom on all occasions to be as independent as possible.
Besides, when one sets out for a ramble, there is no saying where one is
going to pull up, and it seems so pleasant to know that one is
all-sufficient in his own resources, without requiring any aid from
wayside inns. So at least did I think as I rode out of the town; and as
this was my first experience of what we in Queensland call going on the
"wallaby track," I enjoyed it immensely.
The way a man acts when travelling like this, is just to please himself.
When a fair day's journey is done, one begins to look out for a likely
spot for grass and water, and having found that, you get off the horses
and hobble them out--that is, having freed them of their load, their
forefeet are tied together with a pair of strong leather straps in such
a way that they can only totter slowly about. Having done that a fire is
made, the billy is slung on for tea, and when supper is over, a smoke, a
yarn--if there is a mate--and then a roll in the blanket with a saddle
for a pillow.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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