Page 25 - eMuse Vol.9 No.10_Neat

cording to the state of remoteness, and his approach is announced
by the familiar sound of the sliprails as they are let down or put
up. If there are no sliprails to act as knocker, there is bound to be
a canine bell lying about the veranda somewhere, which considers
it his duty to bark at everybody who comes in sight. This brings
the inmates to the door, but in many cases the stranger is studied
through a telescope before he has got within coo-ee. By the time
he arrives the place is ready for inspection. Bella Bush has hitched
up her stockings and put on a clean apron, the ragged urchins have
been called in and stowed away in the skillion, and the others have
washed their faces.
Some of her travel about, and live in tents, as wives of tank-
sinkers, fencers, and teamsters. She hasn’t much to do beyond
Lady of the House, Bark Hut Gulgong, NSW, 1872 cooking—under difficulties; but she misses the companionship of

fighting the flames side by side with Bill and Jim. She can tell of her own sex, and at night, when the men foregather on the grass
floods that crept up in the night till the beds were awash, how they or before an open fire, she sits by, listening, with her chin resting
piled the furniture on the table, and mounted higher and higher, on her palm, occasionally taking a modest part in the conversation.
till ultimately they were driven out on to the roof; how one rode When her lot is cast with drovers and shearers, who are absent
eighty miles in a night when sickness called, and of long tramps for many months in the year, she bears the responsibility of home-
undertaken as light-heartedly as a city woman goes on a tram ride. stead manager, and has a lonely time.
Neighbours live miles away, and when they call on one another A woman on the Richmond River, many years ago, on opening
they start away immediately after breakfast, driving or riding, and the door one morning was horrified to see thirty or forty blacks
often walking, returning about sundown. Even mother, who has standing still and silent before her. All were armed with boomer-
grown portly with years, thinks nothing of walking five or six miles angs and spears and in a state of seminudity. They only wanted to
to see her neighbour, and besides carrying a baby she has the care be rowed across the river, knowing she had a punt moored to the
of half a dozen other progeny, who are excitedly chasing around bank below. To get rid of them, and fearing to give offence, she
her in the grass. went down to the river and ferried them over in five trips. The last

As wife of the poorer digger on small alluvial fields she does a one to step ashore said, “ Tank yer, mithus; you berry good woman.
good deal of hard graft with pick and shovel, turning at the wind- Mine get it yo’ sugarbag byneby. Good day.”
lass, and rocking the golden cradle or the dry-blower. Her sun- In the far north and north-west blacks mingle much in her every-
browned progeny who are too young to work amuse themselves day life. The gins are requisitioned for scrubbing and washing; of-
meanwhile among the gullies and in the bush; or else they are teth- ten there is no better hand in the neighbourhood at making a batch
ered like poddy-calves near by the residence to keep them from of bread or a sponge-cake than old “Mammy” from the camp. Mrs.
rambling; and the baby is left to roll on a bag in the shade of a tree. Potts Point would turn up her nose at Mammy, but Bella likes to
At smoke-o time she gives baby a drink, while the old man pulls have her about the place. Lying back in a canvas chair, she has long
at his pipe. Her lot is a hard one, and yet she is happy in a way if talks at times with Mammy, who sits on the veranda floor, envel-
there are a couple of “weights” to clean out of the black sand by oped in a cloud of tobacco smoke; and when the sky pilot calls on
the slush lamp at night. She has to sit there, too, long hours into the his long round Mammy &. Co. form part of the congregation in the
night, patching the children’s clothes and doing other home duties drawing-room. But Mammy is not permanent. She leaves the sta-
that have been neglected in the interests of the more important tion with her followers pretty frequently for a “walk-about,” for
work at the claim. She seldom has a sewing machine to lighten her the call of the wild comes irresistibly, no matter how long she has
labours; nearly all the clothing, including Bill’s flannels, and some- mixed with the whites.
times the family head-gear—as cabbagetree hats, holland hats and
bonnets—are laboriously made and mended by hand. In many in- In her average home, which is neat, clean, and comfortable, Bella
stances the husband does the baking, and helps in other ways to Bush is a full-bosomed, broad-hipped, plump specimen of feminin-
equalise things. ity of the sort that make good mothers. She is plainly dressed, but
her healthy surroundings have given her such a charm and beauty
At times, too, to supplement the inadequate earnings of the that anything becomes her. She is a little shy at first, perhaps, but
bread-winner, and to save the meat bill, she takes a hand at parrot- she is more at ease with men than Bill is with women; and no one
trapping, rabbit-catching, and ‘possum-snaring; and, in her spare can take a rise out of a man quicker than Bella Bush. You see mis-
time—if she has any—she trudges off to favourite fishing-holes, chief in her eyes, humour in the smile on her kissable lips. She is
carrying rod and line and pickle-bottle, and catching grasshoppers jolly, big-hearted, and constant; and nowhere is she prettier than
and crickets on the way for bait. It falls to her lot also, in dry times on the tablelands of New England and on the Richmond River.
when the men are on the roads with teams, shearing, or rouse-
abouting on stations, to cut scrub for the stock, and to pull out Edward S. Sorenson 1911
bogged sheep and cattle. Once or twice a week she takes eggs and
butter into town, carrying them in a bucket on horseback or in a
two-wheeled trap that has strong claims to individuality.
In juxtaposition to this many farmers and selectors, as on the
Richmond River, start on their new holdings in model houses that a|b
cost £400 and over, and are even provided with a callers’ bell on
the front door, and set in a garden plot as pretty as one could look
upon. The callers’ bell does not ring very often. In many parts of
the bush there is a casual visitor once a week, or once a month, ac-
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