The Book of the Bush by George Dunderdale (always you kirsty moseley TXT) 📖

this same year, 1835, Batman went to Port Phillip with a few friends and seven Sydney blackfellows. On June 14th he returned to Van Diemen's Land, and by the 25th of the same month he had compiled a report of his expedition, which he sent to Governor Arthur, together with a copy of the grant of land executed by the black chiefs. He had obtained three copies of the grant signed by three brothers Jagga-Jagga, by Bungaree, Yan-Yan, Moorwhip, and Marmarallar. The area of the land bought by Batman was not surveyed with precision, but it was of great extent, like infinite space, whose centre is everywhere, and circumference nowhere. And in addition he took up a small patch of one hundred thousand acres between the bay and the Barwon, including the insignificant site of Geelong, a place of small account even to this day. Batman was a long-limbed Sydney native, and he bestrode his real estate like a Colossus, but King William was a bigger Colossus than Batman-he claimed both the land and the blacks, and ignored the Crown grant.

Next, John Fawkner and his friends chartered the schooner 'Enterprise' for a voyage across the Straits to Australia Felix. He afterwards claimed to be the founder of Melbourne. He could write and talk everlastingly, but he had not the 'robur' and 'as triplex' suitable for a sea-robber. Sea-sickness nearly killed him, so he stayed behind while the other adventurers went and laid the foundation. They first examined the shores of Western Port, then went to Port Philip Bay and entered the River Yarra. They disembarked on its banks, ploughed some land, sowed maize and wheat, and planted two thousand fruit trees. They were not so grasping as Batman, and each man pegged out a farm of only one hundred acres. These farms were very valuable in the days of the late boom, and are called the city of Melbourne. Batman wanted to oust the newcomers; he claimed the farms under his grant from the Jagga-Jaggas. He squatted on Batman's Hill, and looked down with evil eyes on the rival immigrants. He saw them clearing away the scrub along Flinders Street, and splitting posts and rails all over the city from Spencer Street to Spring Street, regardless of the fact that the ground under their feet would be, in the days of their grandchildren, worth 3,000 pounds per foot. Their bullock-drays were often bogged in Elizabeth Street, and they made a corduroy crossing over it with red gum logs. Some of these logs were dislodged quite sound fifty years afterwards by the Tramway Company's workmen.


DISCOVERY OF THE RIVER HOPKINS.

"Know ye not that lovely river? Know ye not that smiling river? Whose gentle flood, by cliff and wood, With 'wildering sound goes winding ever."

In January, 1836, Captain Smith, who was in charge of the whaling station at Port Fairy, went with two men, named Wilson and Gibbs, in a whale boat to the islands near Warrnambool, to look for seal. They could find no seal, and then they went across the bay, and found the mouth of the river Hopkins. In trying to land there, their boat capsized in the surf, and Smith was drowned. The other two men succeeded in reaching the shore naked, and they travelled back along the coast to Port Fairy, carrying sticks on their shoulders to look like guns, in order to frighten away the natives, who were very numerous on that part of the coast. On this journey they found the wreck of a vessel, supposed to be a Spanish one, which has since been covered by the drifting sand. When Captain Mills was afterwards harbour master at Belfast, he took the bearings of it, and reported them to the Harbour Department in Melbourne. Vain search was made for it many years afterwards in the hope that it was a Spanish galleon laden with doubloons.

Davy was in the Sydney trade in the 'Elizabeth' until March, 1836; he then left her and joined the cutter 'Sarah Ann', under J. B. Mills, to go whaling at Port Fairy. In the month of May, Captain Mills was short of boats, and went to the Hopkins to look for the boat lost by Smith. He took with him two boats with all their whaling gear, in case he should see a whale. David Fermaner was in one of the boats, which carried a supply of provisions for the two crews; in the other boat there was only what was styled a nosebag, or snack-a mouthful for each man.

On arriving off the Hopkins, they found a nasty sea on, and Captain Mills said it would be dangerous to attempt to land; but his brother Charles said he would try, and in doing so his boat capsized in the breakers. All the men clung to the boat, but the off-sea prevented them from getting on shore. When Captain Mills saw what had happened, he at once pushed on his boat through the surf and succeeded in reaching the shore inside the point on the eastern side of the entrance. He then walked round towards the other boat with a lance warp, waded out in the water as far as he could, and then threw the warp to the men, who hauled on it until their boat came ashore, and they were able to land.

All the provisions were lost. The water was baled out of the boat that had been capsized, and she was taken over to the west head. All the food for twelve men was in the nosebag, and it was very little; each man had a mere nibble for supper. In those days wombats were plentiful near the river, but the men could not catch or kill one of them. Captain Mills had a gun in his boat which happened to be loaded, and he gave it to Davy to try if he could shoot anything for breakfast next morning. There was only one charge, all the rest of the ammunition having been lost in the breakers. Davy walked up the banks of the river early in the morning, and saw plenty of ducks, but they were so wild he could not get near them. At last he was so fortunate as to shoot a musk duck, which he brought back to the camp, stuck up before the fire, and roasted. He then divided it into twelve portions, and gave one portion to each of the twelve men for breakfast; but it was a mockery of a meal, as unsubstantial as an echo-smell, and nothing else.

The two boats were launched, and an attempt was made to pass out to sea through the surf, but the wind was far down south, and the men had to return and beach the boats. The sails were taken ashore and used as tents. In the evening they again endeavoured to catch a wombat, but failed.

On the next day they tried again to get out of the river, but the surf half filled the boats with water, and they were glad to reach the camp again.

Captain Mills was a native of Australia, and a good bushman; he told the men that sow thistles were good to eat, so they went about looking for them, and having found a quantity ate them. On the third day they tried once more to get out of the river, but without success.

On the fourth day Mills decided to carry the boats and whaling gear overland to a bight in the bay to the west. The gear was divided into lots among the men, and consisted of ten oars, two steer-oars, two tubs of whale line each 120 fathoms in length, two fifty-pound anchors, four harpoons, six lances, six lance warps, two tomahawks, two water kegs, two piggins for balers, two sheath knives, and two oil-stones for touching up the lances when they became dull. These were carried for about a quarter of a mile, and then put down for a rest, and the men went back to the camp. The boats were much lighter than the gear, being made of only half-inch plank. One boat was capsized bottom up, and the men took it on their shoulders, six on each side, the tallest men being placed in the middle on account of the shear of the boat, and it was carried about half a mile past the gear. They then returned for the other boat, and in this way brought everything to the bight close to the spot where the bathing house at Warrnambool has since been erected. There they launched the boats, and got out to sea, pulling against a strong westerly breeze.

The men were very weak, having had nothing to eat for four days but some sow thistles and a musk duck, and the pull to Port Fairy was hard and long. They landed about four o'clock in the afternoon, and Captain Mills told them not to eat anything, saying he would give them something better. At that time there was a liquor called "black strap," brought out in the convict ships for the use of the prisoners, and it was sold with the ships' surplus stores in Sydney and Hobarton. Mills had some of it at Port Fairy. He now put a kettle full of it on the fire, and when it was warmed gave each man a half a pint to begin with. He then told them to go and get supper, and afterwards he gave each of them another half pint.

Rum was in those days a very profitable article of commerce, and the trade in it was monopolised by the Government officers, civil and military. Like flour in the back settlements of the United States, it was reckoned "ekal to cash," and was made to do the office of the pagoda tree in India, which rained dollars at every shake.

The boat that was lost by Smith at the Hopkins was found in good condition, half filled with sand. Joe Wilson went for it afterwards, and brought it back to Port Fairy. He was a native of Sydney, and nephew of Raibey of Launceston, and was murdered not long afterwards at the White Hills. He was sent by Raibey on horseback to Hobarton to buy the revenue cutter 'Charlotte', which had been advertised for sale. He was shot by a man who was waiting for him behind a tree. He fell from his horse, and although he begged hard for his life, the man beat out his brains with the gun. The murderer took all the money Wilson had, which was only one five-pound note, the number of which Raibey knew. A woman tried to pass it in Launceston, and her statements led to the discovery and conviction of the murderer, who was hanged in chains at the White Hills, and the gibbet remained there for many years.


WHALING.

"I wish I were in Portland Bay, Oh, yes, Oh! Harpooning whales on a thirtieth lay, A hundred years ago."

In the year 1837, J. B. Mills had charge of the Portland Fishery, and Davy went with him in the 'Thistle' schooner as mate and navigator, and they were over a month on the passage. Charles Mills was second in command at the station at Portland, and Peter Coakley, an Irishman, was third; the remainder of the crew required for whaling was on board the 'Thistle'. Among them was one named McCann, a Sydney native,