The Shadow of the Lynx (8 page)

I said, “Perhaps it would have been better if gold had not been discovered here.”

“Many of the good citizens of Melbourne would agree with you,” conceded Stirling.

“People are leaving their workaday jobs to go and look for a fortune. Mind you, many of them come back disillusioned before long. They dream of the nuggets they are going to pick up and a few grains of gold dust as is all they find.”

I shivered and thought of my father and wondered if he had ever come to this place and talked as these men were talking now.

“It’s a life of hardship they lead at the diggings,” said Ade laide.

“They’d be much better off doing a useful job.”

“But some of them make their fortunes,” Stirling reminded her.

“Money is the root of all evil,” said Adelaide.

“The love of it,” Stirling corrected her.

“But don’t we all love it?”

“Not it,” I put in.

“The things it can buy.”

“It’s the same thing,” Stirling replied.

“Not necessarily. Some people might want it for the sake of others.”

Both he and Adelaide knew that I was thinking of my father and Adelaide hastily changed the subject. She told me once more that the homestead was some forty miles north of Melbourne. Their father had built it ten years before; he had designed it himself and it was a fine house as houses in this part went. It was not exactly like an English mansion of course; but that would be absurd in such a place.

I asked what I should be expected to do there and Adelaide replied that I could help in the house. She supposed that in all the activities that went on I would be sure to find some thing which would appeal to me.

sol. -c 49 doesn’t like idle folk,” said Stirling.

“Don’t call him by that ridiculous name,” reproved Adelaide. She turned to me.

“I’m sure you’ll find plenty to do.”

She talked a little about the country until Stirling said:

“Let her find out for herself.”

Then Adelaide asked me questions about England and I told her of Danesworth House and how I had become a pupil teacher there.

“You must have been most unhappy there,” she said and seemed rather pleased about this. I understood. She felt I should fit more happily into my new life since the old had not been very good.

And so we talked until dinner was over; then I returned to my room and when I had been there a short time there was a knock on the door and Adelaide came in. She looked so anxious that I immediately asked her if anything was wrong.

oh no. I just thought we should have a little talk about everything.

I’d like you to be prepared. ” Then I knew that she was anxious on my behalf and that I had been right when I had thought her kind.

She sat down on the armchair and I took my place on the bed.

“This must be very strange to you.”

“Strange things have happened since my father died.”

“It is terrible to lose a father. I know what it is to lose a mother.

I lost mine when I was eight years old. It’s a long time ago, but it’s something I shall never forget. “

“She died when Stirling was born. He told me.”

She nodded.

“Don’t be afraid of my father,” she said.

Why should I be? “

“Most people are.”

“Perhaps that is because they are dependent on him. I shall not feel that. If he wants to be rid of me I shall go away. I suppose it would be possible to find a post here-perhaps with a family who need a governess and are going to England. Perhaps …” I was making situations to fit my needs, Stirling would say—just as my father had.

“Please don’t talk of leaving us just as you have come. You’ll give it a fair trial, won’t you?”

“Of course. I was only thinking of what I should do if your father decided he didn’t want me here.”

“But he has promised to look after you and he will. Your father was insistent that he should.”

“My tamer seemed 10 tall under his spell.”

“They were drawn to each other from the start. Yet they were so different. Your father dreamed of what he would do;

my father did it. In a short time they had become great friends;

your father had come into the mine and managed it with an enthusiasm which we had never known before. My father used to say: “Now Tom Tamasin is here we’ll strike rich. He believes it so earnestly that it will come to pass.” And then he died bringing gold from the mine. “

“So they have found gold.”

“Not in any quantity. There is a lot of hard work; a lot of men to be employed; and the yield is hardly worth the effort and expense. It’s strange. In everything else my father has prospered. The property which came through my mother is worth ten times what it was when he took it over. This hotel which was just a primitive inn is now flourishing. As Melbourne grows so does the hotel with it. But I believe he loses money on the mine. He won’t give up, though. In his way he is as obsessed by the desire to find gold as those men you saw downstairs tonight.”

“Why do men feel this urge for gold?”

She shrugged her shoulders.

“As we were saying tonight, it is the thought of being rich, fabulously rich.”

“And your father … is he not rich?”

“Not in the way he wishes to be. He started years ago to search for gold. He’ll never give up the search until he makes a fortune.”

“I wonder people can’t be content if they have enough to make them secure, and then enjoy living.”

“You have a wise head on your shoulders. But you would never get some men to see it your way.”

“I thought your father was a wise man. Stirling talks of him as though he is Socrates, Plato, Hercules and Julius Caesar all rolled into one.”

“Stirling has talked too much. My father is just an unusual human being. He is autocratic because he is the centre of our world—but it is only a little world. Stand up to him. He’ll respect you for it. I understand you, I think. There is a little of your father in you, and you are proud and not going to bow to anyone’s will. I think you will be well equipped for your new country. I hope you will get along with Jessica.”

“Jessica? Stirling did not mention Jessica. Who is she?”

“A cousin of my mother’s. She was orphaned early and

lived with my mother since their childhood. They were like sisters and when my mother died she was nearly demented. I had to comfort her and that helped me to get over my own grief. She can be rather difficult and she is a little strange. The fact is she never quite got over my mother’s death. She takes sudden likes and dislikes to people.

”

“And you think she will dislike me?”

“One never knows. But whatever she does, always remember that she may at any time act a little strangely.”

“Do you mean that she is mad?”

“Oh dear me no. A little unbalanced. She will be quite placid for days. Then she helps in the house and is very good in the kitchen. She cooks very well when she is in the mood. We had a very good cook and her husband was a handyman-very useful about the place. They had a little cottage in the grounds. Then they caught the gold fever. They just walked out. Heaven knows where they are now. Probably regretting it in some tent town, sleeping rough and thinking of their comfortable bed in the cottage.”

“Perhaps they found gold.”

“If they had we should have heard. No. They’ll come creeping back but my father won’t have them. He was very angry when they left. It was one of the reasons I couldn’t come to England as was first planned.”

“Everyone there thought it was Miss Herrick who was coming for me.”

“And so it would have been, but my father couldn’t be left to the mercy of Jessica … so I stayed behind and Stirling came alone. Don’t imagine that we haven’t servants. There are plenty of them but none of the calibre of the Lambs. Some of them are aboriginals. They don’t live in the house and we can’t rely on them. They’re nomads by nature and suddenly they’ll wander off. One thing—you will never be lonely.

There are so many people involved in my father’s affairs. There’s Jacob Jagger who manages the property;

William Gardner who is in charge of the mine; and Jack Bell who runs the hotel. You will probably meet him before we leave. They often come to see my father. Then there are people who are employed in these various places. “

“And your father governs them all.”

“He divides his attention between them, but it’s the mine that claims most of his attention.”

And there we were back to gold. She seemed to reali7

this, tor she was very sensitive.

“You’re tired,” she said.

“I’ll leave you now. We have to be up early in the morning.”

She came towards me as though to kiss me; then she seemed to change her mind. They were not, I had already teamed, a demonstrative family.

My feelings towards her were warm, and I believed she would be a great comfort to me in the new life.

Early next morning we boarded the coach, which seated nine passengers and was drawn by four horses. It appeared to be strong though light and well sprung, with a canopy over the top to afford some protection against the sun and weather. This was one of the well-known coaches of Cobb and Co. who had made travel so much easier over the unmade roads of the outback.

I sat between Adelaide and Stirling and we were very soon on our way.

Jack Bell, to whom I had been introduced before we left, stood at the door of the hotel to wave goodbye. He was a tall thin man who had failed in his search for gold and was clearly relieved to find himself in his present position. He was slightly obsequious to Stirling and Adelaide and curious about me; but I had seen too many of his kind the previous night to be specially interested in him.

Besides, the city demanded all my attention. I was delighted with it now that I could see it in daylight. I liked the long straight streets and the little trams drawn by horses; I caught a glimpse of greenery as we passed a park and for a time rode along by the Yarra Yarra river. But soon we had left the town behind. The roads were rough but the scenery magnificent. Above us towered the great eucalyptus reaching to the heavens, majestic and indifferent to those who walked below. Stirling talked to me enthusiastically of the country and it was easy to see that he loved it. He pointed out the red stringy barks the ash and native beech; he directed my attention to the tall grey trunks of the ghostly-looking gums. There were some, he told me, who really believed that the souls of departed men and women occupied the trunks of those trees and turned them grey-white. Some of the aboriginals wouldn’t pass a grove of ghost gums after dark. They believed that if they did they might disappear and that in the morning if anyone counted they would find another tree turned ghost. I was fascinated by those great trees which

must have stood there for a hundred years or more—perhaps before Captain Cook sailed into Botany Bay or before the arrival of the First Fleet.

The wattle was in bloom and the haunting fragrance filled the air as its feather flowers swayed a little in the light breeze. Tree ferns were dwarfed by the giant eucalypts and the sun touched the smoke trees with its golden light. A flock of galahs had settled on a mound and they rose in a grey and pink cloud as the coach approached.

Rosellas gave their whistling call as we passed; and the beauty of the scene moved me so deeply that I felt elated by it. I could not feel apprehensive of what lay before me; I could only enjoy the beautiful morning.

It was the proud boast of the Cobb Coaching Company that horses were changed every ten miles, which ensured the earliest possible arrival.

But the roads were rough and clouds of dust enveloped us. I thought it was an adventurous drive but no one else seemed to share my opinion and it was taken for granted that there would be mishaps. Over hills and dales we went; over creeks with the water splashing the sides of the coach, over rocky and sandy surfaces, over deep potholes which more than once nearly overturned the coach. All the time our driver talked to the horses; he seemed to love them dearly for he used the most affectionate terms when addressing them, urging them to “Pull on faster, Bess me darling!” and “Steady, Buttercup, there’s a lady!” He was cheerful and courageous and laughed heartily when, having rocked over a hole in the narrow path with a sizeable drop the other side, we found ourselves still going.

Stirling was watching me intently as though almost hoping for some sign of dismay which I was determined not to show; and I gave no indication that travelling over the unmade roads of Australia seemed to me very different from sitting in a first-class carriage compartment going from Canterbury to London.

There was an occasion when one of the horses reared and the coach turned into the scrub. Then we had to get out and all the men worked together to get the coach back on to the road. But I could see that this was accepted as a normal occurrence.

We were delayed by this and spent the night at an inn which was very primitive. Adelaide and I shared a room with an<4

other traveller and there was no intimate conversation that night.

In the morning there was some difficulty about the harness and we were late starting. However, our spirits rose as we came out into the beautiful country and once more I smelt the wattle and watched the flight of brilliantly plum aged birds.

We were coming nearer and nearer to what I thought of as Lynx Territory and it was here that I had my first glimpse of what was called a tent town. To me there was something horribly depressing about it. The beautiful trees had been cut down and in their place was a collection of tents made of canvas and calico. I saw the smouldering fires on which the inhabitants boiled their billy cans and cooked their dampers. There were unkempt men and women, tanned to a dirty brown by sun and weather. I saw women, their hair tangled, helping with the panning or cradling, and turning the handles to bring up the buckets full of earth which might contain the precious gold; along the road were open-fronted shacks displaying flour, meat and the implements which would be needed by those concerned in the search for gold.