# The Australian Emigrant/Chapter 15

CHAPTER XV.
It would be taking an unfair advantage of thee, most patient reader, were we to spin out our story much longer, for is it not clear as the sun at noon day that Hugh Raymond will return with Amy Leslie as his wife, and his father having died, leaving the girls without a protector, what more probable than that they too should accompany their brother, and Slinger's day-dream be realised? As for our eccentric friend Dodge, ​after his practical experience had helped to build up the already rising fortunes of the partners, what else, in gratitude, could they do but offer him a share in the station, what more natural than that he should accept it with avidity? But Dodge positively declined the partnership. The reasons he offered were these:—
"You see," he said, "when you amalgamated my cattle, annexed my station, and got me out of the hands of these infernal vampires who were bleeding me slowly to death, you did me a service I can never repay."
"Stuff and nonsense!" Slinger exclaimed.
"Never interrupt a gentleman in his speech," Dodge said with mock solemnity. "Well, I have been able to do you some little good in return, and we are on more equal terms. I perceive great changes are about to take place; for the future I should be only in the way. I shall soon make tracks."
"And if you do," said Slinger with energy, "I'll follow you to the end of creation, I'll upbraid you with ingratitude night and day, and if you go to the jumping-off place I'm after you, mind that. Here's Raymond and I have cut out all our plans, and you want to come in and spoil everything, you ungrateful old creature: give me your hand: we will hear nothing more to the contrary, you shall come in as a partner."
"Here's a pretty position for a man to be in," said Dodge; "why how many more partners do you want to take? I hope you don't find" ———— and Dodge whispered the name in Slinger's ear, "so unwilling as I am."
"Hush! " Slinger replied, "its too serious a matter to joke about."
"Don't you make such a mess of it as I did," Dodge continued, unheeding the warning. "I was once in love, a good many years ago though, but you see I have not lost all memory ​of it, and the lady—I thought her an angel then—appeared to favor my suit. In those days I was not the outlandish looking fellow I am now. I laid out three months' pocket-money on a costly ring and longed for an opportunity to declare my passion. It soon offered, and so did I: with this result. One day, after a tete-a-tete, 'Will you favor me, dearest,' said I, seizing her hand, 'by wearing this poor trifle for my sake—will you, in short, consider yourself engaged?' Here I felt myself choking. The lady smiled as she replied, 'Oh, certainly I do.' 'Then permit me,' said I, still retaining the hand I had grasped, but rather taken aback by the easy conquest, 'to imprint one kiss upon those'———'I declare if you do' said she, all in a pucker, 'I'll tell John.' It turned out that the little minx had been engaged for months to John: I forget his sir-name, but as you value my friendship, never christen any of your youngsters John; it has a most hateful sound to me."
Ten years are passed away. Let us visit again the station of Lan-lan-borin. We left it emerging from the surrounding wilderness. Accompany us yet a little further, indulgent reader, and fear not but we will bring thee to our friends in safety. We know their district well: every hill and valley, each water-course and lagoon, we know their bearings every one; they are as familiar to us as the streets of our native town. Let us hasten towards yonder columns of smoke rising in silvery lines through the trees. Can that comfortable and picturesque homestead be the place we seek? Even so. Industry and energy have overcome all obstacles, and the wilderness "blossoms as the rose." See the surging corn in the spacious ​paddocks and the horses and cattle spread over that boundless plain. Come on, we must not loiter now. That peaceful group of cottages, so English in their aspect in all but the luxuriant creepers with which they are netted together, contain within their walls two prosperous and happy families. The garden, common to both, is full of the most lovely flowers such as money could scarcely purchase in England, though here they are in themselves mere weeds. It is the tasteful arrangement of colors which give them all their value. Do you not feel at the first glance that garden was ordered and arranged by woman's hand; that it is to her delicate sensibilities you are indebted for the perfume and the home associations called up by the English honeysuckle creeping round and almost hiding the burly stem of its Australian namesake? The old country is not forgotten. No: no. The tendrils of that fragile plant just strong enough to resist the sea breezes which sweep up the valley, yet form a link in an enduring chain which binds the memory of the exiles to the land of their birth. Let us make for the nearest dwelling. The old kangaroo dog sunning herself on the threshold is quite harmless. Poor Lady's course is well nigh run: grown stiff with scars and age she will dream away the brief existence which remains to her, tended kindly by the hand of the master she has served so long and faithfully. Even her antipathies are forgotten, and alongside her nestles a joey, one of the pets of the family. "Shoot her!" said Dodge, warmly, to a humane individual who counseled him to kill Lady on the plea that she was quite useless; "Shoot her! I'd sooner stockwhip you."
And has the bushman's life no peculiar attractions to offer? Let us inquire of the parents of that happy group of sunburnt ​children, whose sports are presided over and shared in by our old friend Dodge, if they have the usual anxieties for the future provision of their offspring? They will tell you their minds are quite easy upon that score, and they doubt not but there will be "room enough for all."
Education, my dear reader! One material branch, at least, is not neglected: early self dependence. See that hardy youngster, who by the likeness we would swear is either a Raymond or a Slinger, we can't exactly say which, trying with all his little might to make an impression upon yon sturdy tree, as he labors determinedly with an axe which might be wielded to greater advantage by a more brawney arm. But the tiny boy is a man in spirit, and the tree, which flourished before his father lived, will fall before him.
There is another youngster; bless us! he has tumbled head-long into the stream which bounds the garden. Fly Dodge, fly to his rescue! Not a bit of it, to swim was one of the first lessons he was taught. Although only eight years old he is well able to save himself. Why that child, Dodge will tell you, was once lost several days in the woods, where he fraternised with a tribe of the aborigines, and when recovered had acquired some proficiency in the art of climbing gum trees for opossums by the aid only of a clumsy stone tomahawk. Save him indeed!
Old friends are claiming our attention now. Raymond and Slinger, your hands.—Honest hands too, though horny to the touch and somewhat of the brownest. Dodge, we wish we had a third hand to give you. We are glad to hear the world has gone well with you all: that your business in Melbourne, commenced with a capital of £350, sold for £3,500; that your cattle have multiplied exceedingly under the watchful superintendence of Big Mick, who now resides with his wife and family at ​the station once owned by Dodge. But above all else we congratulate you on your immunity from the gold fever. The precious metal may be purchased too dearly—the largest nugget grubbed out with the least amount of labor would but ill requite you for the loss of the many comforts and the unalloyed happiness surrounding you in the home you have rescued from the wilderness. Your "pile" is beyond all price.
If shade should result from so much sunshine, may the temperate and healthful lives you lead enable you to do battle with advantage, and to overcome such adverse circumstances as beset men all the world over. So farewell—a long farewell to Lan-lan-borin.
THE END.
w.roberts, printer, 197, high street, exeter