A DRIVE A few days' rest made the travellers as good as new and Fergus and Jean were ready for any kind of an adventure. They went about the city interested in each and everything they saw, for they were bright little children, full of spirits to the brim. "We are to take a drive this afternoon," said Mrs. McDonald one morning. "Your Uncle Angus is going to show you Wuurna-wee-weetch, which means 'home of the swallow.' It is the largest squatter station anywhere about here, and it is as handsome as any noble estate at home." "That will be jolly, Aunt Mildred," said Fergus, who loved driving. When luncheon was over they all seated themselves in Mr. McDonald's comfortable road-cart, and his fine span of horses pranced along the Sydney streets. "We are passing St. Andrew's Cathedral now," said Mrs. McDonald. "And there is St. Mary's Cathedral, which is equally fine. There is the Governor's Mansion, the Museum, the Art Gallery, and now we are entering Hyde Park. Isn't it beautiful? The water works of Sydney are excellent and the water supply never fails. It comes sixty-three miles from the Nepean River and is stored in a huge reservoir. Even in the hottest weather there is enough water to keep our parks green and beautiful." "You are very enthusiastic over your adopted country," said her sister, teasingly. "Indeed I am. I have learned to love Australia, the rural life better than the urban. You wait until we go up to the 'run' and see if the charm of the Bush country life doesn't hold They drove over the estate, which was surpassingly beautiful. "I have heard so much of the Australian Bush and how wild and bare it is," said Fergus, "that I had no idea that there was anything here so fine as this." "What magnificent trees," said his mother. "Those are the eucalyptus, the gum trees for which Australia is famous," said Mr. McDonald. "The eucalyptus grows to an enormous height, many of the trees are 150 feet high and eleven feet around the trunk. In some places they grow to be twenty feet in diameter. They are not good shade trees because the leaves, which are shaped like little lances, grow straight up and down, that is, with one edge toward the sun. But in spite of that, the tree is one of the most useful in the world. There are nearly 150 "It seems to me that these trees furnish almost everything you need," said Mr. Hume. "If you include the birds who nest in them and the animals who climb in the branches," replied his brother-in-law, "I fancy the Blacks did not need to look beyond the eucalyptus for a living. The wood built their huts, and the bark thatched them. From the fibre they made mats for their floors and hats to keep off the sun, "They are certainly useful," said Mrs. Hume. "Is this the station to which we are going?" as they drove through a fine gateway. "Yes," said Mrs. McDonald. "Wuurna-wee-weetch is quite up to date in every way. The house cost £30,000 to build and the ranch has every modern improvement. The grazing land hereabouts is perfectly adapted to sheep The gardens were blooming with gay, tropical flowers, and the songs of the birds were in the air, as they flitted hither and yon through the branches of the magnificent trees. "What is that noise, Aunt Mildred?" asked Jean as they drove through a beautiful grove of pines which scented the air deliciously. "It sounds like a far away church bell." "It is the bell bird, dear, one of the curiosities of Australia," replied her Aunt. "Long, "Can you say them to us, Aunty?" "I will try,—they are really beautiful," she said. "'Tis the bell bird sweetly singing, The sad, strange, small-voiced bird, His low sweet carol ringing, While scarce a sound is heard, Save topmost sprays aflutter, And withered leaflets fall, And the wistful oaks that utter Their eerie, drearie, call. "What may be the bell bird saying, In that silvery, tuneful note? Like a holy hermit's praying His devotions seem to float From a cavern dark and lonely, Where, apart from worldly men, He repeats one dear word only, Fondly o'er and o'er again." "Is not that pretty?" said Mrs. Hume, as her sister's musical voice ceased. "I did not know you had such poets in Australia." "Indeed we have a literature of our own," said Mrs. McDonald, "and very beautiful things are written by Australians. You have much to learn about this great island continent of ours." "Now we must turn toward home," said Mr. McDonald, and his wife said, "Drive back past Tarnpin, it is so beautiful about there. Tarnpin, or Flowing Water, is a favourite spot hereabouts. The Blacks have a quaint story about its origin, and I will tell it to you as old Tepal, a black chief, told it to me. "It was the day time, and all the animals died of thirst. So many died that the Magpie, the Lark, and the Crane talked together, and tried to find water to drink. "'It is very strange,' said the Magpie, 'that the Turkey Buzzard is never hungry.' "'He must, then, have water to drink,' said the wise Crane. "'He flies away every morning, very early,' said the Lark. "'Let us rise before the sun and watch him,' said the Magpie, and they agreed. "Next morning the Turkey Buzzard rose early and crept from his wuurie. "The three friends laughed and were glad. Quickly they flew to the stone, singing, 'We have caught him!' and drank of the fresh "My but that's a jolly story," said Fergus, the irrepressible. "Did you really know the Blacks, Aunt Mildred? Are there any around here?" "None very near," said his aunt. "Indeed, they are mostly dying out. People who have lived here a long time used to know them and say they were a kindly people. They were very fond of children and I do not think they were cruel or quarrelsome unless roused to anger. They have nearly all buried themselves in the Bush, but you will be likely to see some of them at our station. There used to be a number around the 'run,' and when we first came out "I hope we shall see some of them," said Fergus. "I like black people," said little Jean. "What does she know of Blacks?" asked her aunt, smiling, and her mother replied, "Some people from the States came to our farm one fall for the shooting and they had a black nurse for the baby. Jean took a great fancy to her, and we simply couldn't keep her from toddling after Dinah. She was a faithful soul, so good and kind." "Those who have lived here for many years say that if you once make a friend of a Black he will do anything for you," said Mr. McDonald. "I never had any trouble with them around my station, though other squatters did." "I think it's all in the way you treat them," "Well, I hope we shall see some of them," said Fergus. "But I shouldn't care for cannibals." |