# The Australian Emigrant/Chapter 9

CHAPTER IX.
As they neared the "hospitable mansion" the style of its architecture became fully developed. It was a square building of one story. The four walls were raised some seven feet from the ground, and were composed of split slabs set upright about three inches in thickness, and many of them standing at least three inches apart. Dodge explained that he was particularly fond of air, and therefore he was rather glad that the green timber had shrunk considerably. The hut was roofed with broad sheets of stringey bark lapped one over the other, and this perhaps was the most efficient work of the whole. The chimney, which occupied a considerable space, was built up with mud and turf. There was an apology for a window, which was stuffed up with flour-bags and dried grass; but the door and its hinges was a triumph of inventive skill, of which Dodge was justly proud.
After relating the difficulties which had beset his attempt at building, heightened by the want of several articles which are generally held to be indispensable (one constant source of annoyance was a great scarcity of nails), Dodge came to the matter of the hinges.—"I had a boy," he said, "who helped me with the cattle.—Oh! he was a boy.—I called him 'the Gorger:' first, because he was in doubt about his own name; and secondly, because, although only a boy in years, he ​had the appetite (but he had the heart too) of a man. Well, the Gorger and I, after putting up the hut as you see it, were considerably bothered about a substitute for door-hinges. 'Nail up strips of bullock's hide to the door and to the wall' suggested the Gorger. But where are the nails, Gorger?—Some old fellow once said, if he could find a resting place for his lever he would move the world.—Find me the nails, Gorger, and I will hang the door. Try again Gorger. And the Gorger thought and thought until he grew hungry, when he set to work upon a piece of beef and damper, and then fell asleep. Happening to have a half bottle of rum in store, I took it out of plant (how fond Gorger was of rum to be sure!) and after a glass or two I felt as if I was getting nearer the solution of the problem. The bottle at last stood before me in all its hideous emptiness:—in an attempt to drain a few last drops from it, I turned its bottom upwards. One hinge was before me—the problem was worked. So I woke the Gorger, D'ye see the hollow in the bottom of this bottle?—Well, that's a hinge; rummage out another bottle—that's a pair of hinges: put one bottle in the ground, bottom upwards, another in the slab above the door, bottom downwards; fix the ends of the post the door is built on into the hollows, and the thing is done. 'Mind the bottles are empty, guvnor' said the Gorger. Leave me alone for that, Gorger, said I. And now we are on such an interesting subject as the bottle, I mean to talk a bit—I hate a man who is eternally abusing it. Now there are two ways of doing this; one is by getting drunk on its contents and breaking heads with it, and the other by an indiscriminate condemnation of all liquoring. And baccy too—fancy a bushman abstaining from baccy!—Ridiculous. Leave him his baccy and he is not destitute:—it is often his substitute for every other comfort. Baccy and the bottle are the first signs of ​civilization: they work their way long before every thing else. When a white man passes through the bush, he can't leave a church, a theatre, nor a gallows behind him (all marks of civilization in their way), but he very likely smashes a bottle or a pipe, and whoever follows after, knows, by these tokens, that he is treading in the steps of the white man. Ah! the bottle has noble uses," he said with a smile as he glanced towards the door-post of his hut.
"Yoic! old lass! yoic! old girl!" he shouted as a fine kangaroo dog came bounding down to the water's edge to welcome her master. The dog gave signs of uneasiness by an occasional growl, which, although unnoticed by Hugh and Slinger, was not so by Dodge.
"Do you see my old Lady there?" he said, looking after his dog attentively; "there's something in the wind."
"Why you are not married, are you, Mr. Dodge?" inquired Slinger.
"Married!" said Dodge, "Married!—ha!—ha!—Married!!—ha!—ha! ha!—Old Dodge married!—ho!—ho! ho!—Dodge domesticated!!! Well, that is good. When I was a ladling," he continued, as well as he could speak for laughing, " a gipsy once told me I should be wedded to a dark lady with beautiful teeth and black hair. She must have imagined me just situated as I happen to be; for I am visited occasionally by some very dark ladies, and gentlemen too; and who knows," said Dodge, "but Miss Dulkey-bulkey, 'the Big Smutty Pot,' or, 'the Dowager Lady Yaller-nibberon,' otherwise, 'The Warm Blanket,' may not captivate me.—Married! no, no. I was talking of my dog 'Lady;' and she, dear old creeter, is talking to me. You don't understand her, but I do: and she's letting me know as plainly—as plainly as I see that fellow on the opposite side of the creek to my hut to keep a ​look out for squalls; and I will too. Humph!" he said, after a scrutiny, "I don't like his cut, for he has not altogether the bearing of a bushman, though he's rigged like one."
As the boat neared the landing-place, the stranger saluted them, and inquired, in a bland voice, "Is this Mr. Dodge's station?"
"Too polite," whispered Dodge to Slinger; and in a higher tone—" Dodge's station! O no: Dodge's station is higher up the creek by a good three miles, and I wish 'twas further off."
"How so?" inquired the stranger.
"Because he's a queer neighbour, and we can't agree. I'm right again," whispered Dodge to Slinger; "I'm sure its one of my old friends."
After landing his passengers, Dodge pulled his boat boldly across, and after a short conversation with the stranger, he agreed to accompany him on his way; first, however, re-crossing to tell his friends to help themselves to anything they could find in the hut, and to make themselves quite at home: "and now," he said, "for the present, good bye; I shall return about sunset, after I have shown this gentleman a little of the interior."
Dodge again joined the stranger, and fastening his boat to a mangrove tree, they wended their way up the banks of the creek through an occasional scrub or swamp. By one of those stories for which Dodge was never at a loss, he drew from the stranger the purport of his business: it was neither more nor less than the serving a writ upon Dodge, "for which I shall get well paid," said the bailiff,—"out," muttered Dodge.
They were skirting an extensive tract overgrown with dwarf trees matted together with the thread-like fibres of the native vine, when Dodge said, "Come,shove along, we must get through this."
​"Dear me," said the man, "I declare it looks impossible: we can't do it."
"Try" observed Dodge dryly, "Dodge's is a most difficult station to get at, I can tell you. Come on," he said, as he pushed his way into the scrub, "follow me." The bailiff stumbled after Dodge, tearing his clothes and flesh at every step.
"Look out for the snakes," said Dodge, after they had been in the scrub some time, "the place swarms with 'em, and such monsters too, nine and ten feet long, and as deadly as death's own darts."
"Let us go back," said the bailiff, alarmed.
"Oh no," replied Dodge, "never say die; besides, you are to be well paid too." This reminder somewhat rallied the sinking spirits of the poor bailiff, but in a short time he evinced unquestionable signs of exhaustion. "The wild blacks have a strange partiality for this scrub," continued Dodge; "every now and then they make away with a stock-keeper for me. The last poor fellow they caught of mine was a sad case. They roasted him alive, and scraped his flesh from his bones with oyster-shells. There's fine oyster-beds in the bay," continued Dodge, carelessly.—"Are you fond of oysters?" The bailiff groaned, but made no audible reply. The scrub grew more dense. "You never fell in with bushrangers, did you? " inquired Dodge.
"No-o," stuttered the bailiff.
"This is a great place for 'em—it is supposed that their head quarters is somewhere in this scrub."
" No-o!! I won't go another step forward," said the now horror-stricken bailiff. " Let us go back." Dodge acquiesced.
One conversant with the ways of the woods would have noticed that at short intervals Dodge, with apparent carelessness, had partially broken off small twigs from the bushes he met ​with in his progress, as marks to guide him out of the dense scrub into which he had penetrated. His plot was now ripe for execution. Performing some eccentric movements, first proceeding for a short distance in one direction, and suddenly changing it for another, the bailiff was at length completely mystified as to the direction in which he had been travelling.
"Hist! did you hear nothing?" exclaimed Dodge.
"No-o: nothing. What?— Eh?" said the bailiff, and his face was livid with fear.
"There! There!! said Dodge, "don't you see the bushes shaking again?—'tis—the blacks!—the blacks!" he shouted, and in two or three bounds was out of sight.
"Don't leave me!—don't run away! Oh save me!—Save me!" shouted the miserable bailiff; "I shall be roasted and eaten alive—I shall," and he sunk upon the earth.
A savage yell now arose at his very feet.
"O good black fellows—most worthy bushrangers, oh spare me!—spare me!—I'm very old and tough, and shouldn't agree with you. I tell you so as a friend; so don't!—Oh don't!" Hearing a low chuckle close to him, he made several attempts to rise, but he was so entangled in the scrub that he could not do so.
Then there arose such a peal of laughter, so loud and so energetic, that the bailiff buried his face in the earth from very fear. When he lifted it again, the same sounds were ringing in his ears, but at a greater distance.
About an hour afterwards, a man emerged from the scrub dressed in the remains of a flannel shirt and canvass trousers, his face was red, his eyes protruding, and every now and then his cheeks, which at other times were like a shrivelled bladder, would swell out as if on the point of bursting. These alarming symptoms were partially relieved by such hearty laughter ​as made the old woods ring again. "Well, well," at length the individual stammered out, as well as he could from his almost hysterical state, "if this example fails, I must clear out for good." It was old Dodge, who, in a short time reached the creek and paddled himself over, where he found Hugh and Slinger waiting, with a meal prepared and set forth in true bush fashion on a large box. "Here I am again," he said; "I thought my last adventure with bailiffs would have prevented the necessity for any further cruelty on my part to the species, but they will not learn wisdom." He then recounted his adventure, concluding—" a night in the scrubs will cure our friend, I think, of his partiality for Westernport. It won't be a paying speculation for him—this won't."
"But," said Slinger, "you surely will not leave the poor wretch in such a position, and after frightening him as you have done: why he will die of cold."
"Won't I though," said Dodge. "He will keep warm until the morning, and by that time have recovered his senses. Then he will either strike upon the creek or come into open ground, and the chances are that eventually he will make my station. Meantime we must clear out."
"Suppose you accompany us in search of a station," said Slinger; "that is the business we are out upon."
"Agreed," replied Dodge; "and there is no time to be lost; we must make preparations at once." Accordingly, after taking out the necessary supplies, he planted his flour-bag and beef-barrel in the hollow of an adjacent tree, declaring that he would starve out his enemy in case he attempted to quarter upon him. Selecting a pair of not particularly clean canvass trousers and some strips of linen to serve for strings, he then observed, "Now I'll show you what I call my multum in parvo;" he then proceeded, after tying up the bottom of one ​of the legs to deposit in it a quantity of flour, that done, he tied it tightly above; the other leg was devoted to tea, sugar, and tobacco. "Let me see," he said, thoughtfully, tapping the ashes from his pipe, "we have tobacco, flour, tea, sugar, powder, shot, bullets, and blankets; there is only one thing requisite to render us disgustingly rich—a bottle of rum, Slinger, and we should be rolling in wealth.
"Indeed it would be a comfortable addition," Slinger answered.
Dodge smiled pleasantly as he removed a turf from one side of his chimney, and thrusting his arm into the aperture drew forth several black bottles. One was labelled "laudanum—poison," another "the cattle medicine," another "poison for wild dogs." Selecting the latter, the cork was drawn, and after drinking to the success of their expedition, Dodge tendered a portion of the "poison" to his visitors, who partook of the same, found it marvellously like rum to the taste, and found no ill effects from their libations. The remainder in the bottle was then carefully wrapped in a blanket to be taken with them, and the rest replaced in the chimney.
"There is nothing like preparing for the worst," said Dodge.— "A man does not like drinking freely from a bottle labelled 'poison' although the stuff in it may smell like rum. I wish education was more general. Now if the black protectors had taught the Darkeys to read they would be more careful how they emptied my poison bottles:—as it is, the rascals somehow scent 'em out, and not having the fear of death before their eyes, they get dead drunk on their contents."
Every thing being arranged for an early move on the morrow, the visitors had leisure to admire the domestic arrangements of their host. The great box, which occupied so conspicuous a position in the hut, served as a table, chest of ​drawers, and bedstead; a block of wood answered the double purpose of chair and pillow, the beef-barrel was also a kind of side-table, whilst the cover of it was made to do duty occasionally as a rat-trap by setting it up with a stick and a string, and Dodge described the destruction he wrought upon the rat species by these simple means as something quite astonishing. After spending by no means an uncomfortable evening, a shake-down was made and they all turned in.
Before they fell asleep, a wild dog was heard howling near the hut and presently a chorus struck up. Dodge, taking his gun, went to the door, and answered them by a howl nearly as wild, to which there was a reply. "These chaps and I have a little conversation together of a night—they are capital company, and afford me lots of sport. They smell I've got some grub here again. I will be back directly: don't you come" he said, as the two were preparing to follow him: "it takes an old hand to touch a wild dog." After he had been gone about ten minutes, the report of his gun was heard, and then a second barrel. In a few minutes he returned dragging a large dog by the leg whilst Lady kept a firm grip of its throat.
"This fellow has made free with my veal, I'll be bound," said Dodge.
"Do they kill calves?" Slinger inquired.
"Occasionally, and sheep very often. Why I have scarcely a beast on my station with a perfect tail, they generally manage to nip off that little delicacy when it is young, so that I never get ox-tail soup; but I have a capital substitute in that of the kangaroo." He then called his dog. "Come here, old girl, I want to make a bolster of you to night," and she lay down in a convenient position. Old Dodge placed his head on this novel pillow, and was soon snoring lustily, in which he was shortly joined by his visitors.
​It was fated their slumbers were not to be of long duration, for Lady, the kangaroo dog and pillow, suddenly sprung up with a growl, letting Dodge's head drop heavily upon the ground. The sleepers started up in time to hear a sound as of several persons retreating from the hut. On opening the door, the dog ran out barking furiously, but the inmates could distinguish nothing to excite alarm, although the moon shone brightly.
Dodge was rubbing his head, as he said, "One of the disadvantages of having an animated bolster; but we must look about us; I can't make this out exactly;" and he whistled for his Lady, but she did not return. "Stranger still!" said Dodge. "See to your guns, lads, and follow me, there's no time to dress." Accordingly they wrapped themselves in their blankets and sallied from the hut.
Dodge assumed the command, "Raymond," he said, "you will take the right, I the left, and Slinger, you keep near, don't go above thirty yards off, and if Raymond or I make signals, go inside immediately, and let no one enter but ourselves.—Blaze away, we shan't be far off."
Then they each went on their separate missions. Raymond stumbled over logs and tufts of long grass, for such was his anxiety to discover some cause of alarm that he scarcely looked to see where he was going, and after he had made two or three turns, he began to wonder in which direction the hut was. At this moment he saw an object move out from behind a tree and quickly dart back again. Stealthily advancing to where he had seen the figure, he had reached to within a few yards of the spot, when he heard a low whistle. Raising his gun very cautiously, he dropped among the grass, and shortly afterwards saw a light object protruding from behind the tree. Taking a deliberate aim at it, he said, "Move and I will fire. Who and what are you?"
​"Oh only old Dodge," said that personage, coming into full view. "I thought 'twas you: why how did you manage to get my side of the hut? I pushed out my blanket for you to have a shot at. Have you seen anything?"
"No, only your respectable self."
"Well, we must go back again; but it is queer. What can have become of Lady?"
They soon came in sight of Slinger on guard. He had lighted a pipe and was seated upon a log with his back to them.
"Steady," whispered Dodge, "Shall I show you what chance your friend would have with the natives?
"How will you do that?"
"You remain near this tree for five minutes, and you shall see the first lesson the blacks taught me. Now I'm going to make Slinger prisoner before he knows anything about it. Take care of my rifle." He then wriggled himself among the long grass, and was soon lost to Hugh. In a short time he saw Slinger rest his gun against the tree, for the moon was quite clear, and presently Dodge rose close behind him and clasped him tightly in his arms.
"Da——" Slinger began to roar, when Dodge placed his hand upon his mouth.
"It is all right," he said, as he let him go, "don't swear, I told you I would not be far off. Now that is what I call taking advantage of a man behind his back." Hugh ran up, and they all returned to their shake-down, but the dog did not make her appearance.