The Bushman — Life in a New CountryLandor, Edward Wilson
History
The Bushman — Life in a New Country
Landor, Edward Wilson
Western Australia -- Description and travel
In the meantime we were nearly driven desperate by most violent
attacks upon our legs, committed by myriads of fleas. They were so
plentiful that we could see them crawling upon the floor; the dogs
almost howled with anguish, and the most sedate among us could not
refrain from bitter and deep execrations. We had none of us ever
before experienced such torment; and really feared that in the course
of the night we should be eaten up entirely. These creatures are
hatched in the sand, and during the rains of winter they take refuge
in empty houses; but they infest every place throughout the country,
during all seasons, more or less, and are only kept down by constant
sweeping from becoming a most tremendous and overwhelming plague,
before which every created being, not indigenous to the soil, would
soon disappear, or be reduced to a bundle of polished bones. The
natives themselves never sleep twice under the same wigwam.
After tea, the sheep and dogs being carefully disposed of for the
night, we turned out before the house, and comforted ourselves with
cigars; and having whiled away as much time as possible, we spread
out our mattresses on the floor, and in a state of desperation
attempted to find rest. We escaped with our lives, and were thankful
in the morning for so much mercy vouchsafed to us, but we could not
conscientiously return thanks for a night's refreshing rest.
At the first dawn of day we rolled up our beds, lighted the fire,
swept out the room, let the dogs loose, and drove the rams to pasture
on the margin of the river. After breakfast, which was but a sorry
meal, we determined to make our first attempt at baking. Simon, a
man of dauntless resolution, undertook the task, using a piece of
stale bread as leaven. It was a serious business, and we all helped
or looked on; but the result, notwithstanding the multitude of
councillors, was a lamentable failure. Better success, fortunately,
attended the labours of Hannibal, who boiled a piece of salt pork
with the greatest skill.
Mutton at this period, 1841, was selling at sixteen-pence per pound
(it is now two-pence), and we therefore resolved to depend upon our
guns for fresh meat. We had brought with us a fishing-net, which we
determined to put in requisition the following day.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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