STRANGE STORY OF A LUCK LESS WANDERER.

Marlborough Daily Times, Volume II, Issue 134, 2 July 1880, Page 1 (Supplement)

STRANGE STORY OF A LUCK LESS WANDERER.

A German paper relates tlie strange, sad story of a reckless wanderer,, who would seem for a time to have worn the British uniform. For the last six mouths, the narrative says, there has been under ‘gemeinde-arreste’ as a pan per-vagrant, at Krcmsmiinster, a man who has passed through a more than ordinary eventful and chequered career. Henry de Cl , trie ‘arrest-ant’in question, is the descendant'of an ancient family of French mblumte in Auvergne. His grandfather nettled in England at the time of the First Revolution, in which most of his relations perished. Do 01 himsell wa.t horn in London, and educated at Wellesley College. Afterwards, he entered at the University of Vienna, where he studied from 1851 to 1854. In the latter year ho became a cadet in the 21st Baron .von lleischach’s Regiment of Austrian Infantry, then in gar; i son at Parma. But lie soon left the Austrian eagles ; and the memorable year 1557 found him serving in tho artillery in India, Next, ho was some time an instructor at tho Dutch Officieren-Schole at Heesten-Uornalis. in Java. Iu ISO! he was in Algeria, travelling among the Bedouins; andiin 1882 he proceeded! In the French; frigate,. La Saone to Mexico; where he attracted the i notice-of the unfortunate Emperor Maximilian. Iho bloody,.and fatal day of Queretaro, Jnne dv, 1867, saw him major commanding the 2uci Battalion of Mexican Jagers. Compelled to leave Mexico lie next obtained professor at .the, Venezuelan Military Academy at Caraccas. Returning to Europe two years later lie became secretary to Dr. Augustin 'l’heiner, keeper of tlie archives at the Vatican, : which post he held up to the doctor’s death. Subs quently he held various scholastic appointments m Italy, until, in 1877, he set up as a schoolmaster at Airolo, in the Canton Ticeno HereMl-luek again attended him. A tire destroyed all his l*elongings, and he set forth once more upon his wanderings, going first to Stuttgard and afterwards to Berlin. But illness by this time had begun to tell upon him, barring his hopes of, gaining further, employment, and falling lowcrand lower in the social scale, he was at length arrested as a vagrant, when endeavouring to cross the frontier without a passport, on his way from Berlin to Vienna,

THE MULGA SPRINGS. liV JAMKS I.OCKIIAHT. I had got so far to the northward that found myself one warm Saturday afternooi within a few <lays’ride of Cooper’s Creek. J was nij' first excursion upon the frontiers o Central Auffi alia. If any one had met me and inquired into my business there, I an sure that £ should have felt at a great loss foi ail answer. F hail no well-defined purpose ii mv mind when J left Melbourne behind me sfill, for all that, 1 had no idea that a spirit of vagabondism could carry me so far from home. I. had hobbled my horse upon tin: utmost rim of civiii-.i.i.iim. Tin; Mulga Springs has boon from immemorial time a favourite oamping-piaoo of the blacks. For several years after ihe advent, of another race the precise locality was kept a close secret, by the tribes. A young gin who had given her heart, to one of the white men at last disclosed it to the importunilies of her admirer when he v. as ready to perish ' with thirst. If the traditions of the wilds are bo be credited, she paid for her indiscretion with her life. It was certainly a delightful r- sting-place in a weary land. It was the only pa* oh of . juicy green within a hundred miles of me. It. was a natural well, quite- uncnclo-ed. The hand of man had made no improvt menty, and the cool, clear water was oozing over ifs brim. When I throw myself oil my horse and fell down upon my knees among the moist mosses on its margin, ruy water-bag h ul been empty for nearly four and twenty hours. My mouth was on lire, and a dry hot crust had begun to gather about my bps. ( remembered that it was injudicious and even dangerous' to driux my lilt in the state I was in, and I did manage to iv.-.lrsin iny?e!f before any in jury was done by ov.-r-i udulgcucj. 1 drank a. 1 irge qnan I .i*y. however; for all that. My tongue an : all my body seemed to absorb it like a Pairs';, sponge. My horse, too, had sullercd terribly. It actually required a considerable, exertion of strength to drag his fawn-c.oiour. d nose out of the water in time to save his life. I hid gob into a saltbush region. Abho.igh generally arid and dry for the greater put of ttie year, it was anything but a desert. Neither was it a plain in the strict sense of the word, although at the first glance it presented a rather Hat-looking surface to the eye. i t was a ridgy tract of count ry, abounding with fattening feed for both shoe]) and cattle. It was also dotted hero and there with tiny thickets of Flowerin'.; shrubs. Luxuriant tufts of sweet glasses, crowfoot, and other nutritions herbs llourished in the shady dimples. The air was scented with the wild flowers which delight in solitary' places. I noticed several varieties which j J had never seen before, ami which I could j not name. It was undoublo y a lovely landscape. Silence sat brooding around me. i Not the slightest sound of life touched my ; listening ear. Between me and the far-away skies of slumbrous blue the carrion-hank, diminished to a speck, had suspended himself in middle air. The snu had set in splendour upon the sar.ie unchanging seene for inniimer- } able ages. Sitting in the pleasant shadow ] of a wild orange true. 1 saw the faintlvinarked trail st 11 trending northwards towards the tropic lutes. I should have liked to have folio nod it to its end, and then struck out a path of my own whore no white man’s foot had ever been. The scarcity of water alone deterred me. To risk it would have been almost certain death. It was one of those cases where a man could not put his trust in Providence and take his chance. It was with considerable reluctance, however, that 1 made made up my mind to abandon the attempt. There was nothing for it but to take the back trail for the upper waters of the Paroo in the morning. I had been warned at the last station on my route to keep a sharp look out if 1 camped over night at the Springs. A halfcivilised black fellow, one of the outlaws oil t.’.o frontiers, had been seen lurkingabout the neighbourhood a day or two previous to my visi’. Many traps had been laid for him, but although asuspeote assassin and a desperate marauder, Chasc-the-Wiml had never been hunted down. None of the aboriginals in that region and at that time could be wholly trusted. I was armed but 1 remembered the dark innuendo of swaggering Pistol, 'most folks have a trick of sleeping with their throats bare, aiitl people say that knives have edges.’ On the opposite side of the mulga thicket I soon came upon traces of moil and women and little children were numerous around a rude semi circle of withered bou.ahs which had been thrown up as a breakwind against tiie north. I noticed also, that the ashes of their fires were scarcely cold. The surroundings were foul and revolting, for ihe habits of men in a slate of nature are much upon a par with those of the four-footed carnivora of the forest. J saw that there had recently been a -gluttonous and protract.d feast. Tin; disgusting remnants which they h,ul not been aide to devour lay festering in tiie sun. The half charred remains of both furred and feathered game, gnawed and broken and torn joint from joint, were lying there. A slim mulga spear, stuck into the 'ground through tiie head of a snake, lux been left behind them as a sign or token to sonic absent member of the tribe. As soon as the smoke of my evening fire had formed a pillar in the quiet air, [ lieatd a hmgcoutiiiued musical cooeo behind me. ( felt a slight flutter at my heart when I looked up and saw five or six stain art'blacks almost close upon me. Every man of them was armed with the tomahawk and spear. I could nob help admiring the long, swingi'-g stride, and natural grace of their movements as they came straight towards me with their backs to the setting sun. Tiie gins, with heads boat under their burdens, weie dragging a slower step, a considerable distance in the rear. The children were also weary. Every now and then, one of the- patient mothers would wait for the weakest and carry the little laggard—on her- already overloaded shoulders—forward to the front-. I was-glad to see that Cliase-the-Wind was not among the gang when the aboriginals came up. They were all sturdy, healthy!coking fellows; the youngest apparently just mi*the vergoof manhood, and the oldest scarcely past his prime. One or two of them wore a scowling brow, but none of them looked like men who had murder in tlivir thoughts ; still I kept within arm’s length of mv rifle, and kept my ground. After nearly a minute of silence one of them took a long step in front of the others, and showed all his splendid teeth in a smile. < All same as white fellow,’ he said. ‘ All same as white fellow me: budgerie this fellow. Been long urn Melbuln tin. cattle ; white fellow countly budgerie. Plenty glog, plenty blandy, plenty gin. Give it tobaec budgerie fellow me; plenty Engliss, all same as white fellow me.’ If I had given them all that they asked for I would have had to go supperless to bed. The women are the most pertinacious beggars in the world. It is no figure of speech to say that they want the shirt off your back. There was nothing repulsive about them in form or feature. Some of the younger ones,’indeed, were almost attractive.

j A report lias gut about in print tliat the Am | tralian aboriginal is physically the lowcs known type of the human race. Lite otln: swooping assertions, i believe it is not al.i gather tenable, There arc races in Africa ami perhaps in Asia, far njuror the coufoi ; matioii of the brute. The ordinary m-gross lor instance, is generally grosser and mor unteininiiio in her looks than the mothers i tile inland tribes. it is oniy some natures that lake ileligh in the majesty of darkness, and the iuitiul of the fast-gathering storm. Tiie moon walking in brightness, lias a universal am. potent charm. As s 1 1 ■; rose, large, am round, and radiant, out of a low lidgi of violet-coloured clouds, which looked in the distance like a spur of the Dolec.ablu Mountains, the blacks rose from the dies and tu nod their faces to the oast in silence. if it was not an act of adoration it looked very like it. .Some vague and mysterious longings or unusual aspirati ns undoubtedly stirred their benighted minds. it was a scene to b-j rum.:mo-.;i‘e.i for a long 111-time. The skies wore all ablaze with eeie.slial tight. I iiad never seen in any laud such a brilliant canopy of stars. Tim common clay of earth j was glorified. At that hour the. deep silence was an extra charm, and the sinning tracks across tiie plains Seemed to lead st I Wight on to ;rio gates of heaven. I'm; women sat crouching in a elastic, with the little oir-s about liair feel, and Lin; men, wild lueir spears in their im ui.-, iormeit tile t'licio round them. ITieil began a iow, iiiyiiimio.il, ! barbaric chant, winch ia-ted near.;, an n-.mr. i knew Homing w then word-, but t.iieir naturally sweet voices were very plaintive and there was also a pa.hciic nii.nmg ,:i the sounds which slrucit upon lie- h art like ill:; sobldng mo.ui m an uver-uri ven beast m burden. I nc men stood mou.mios.-, itu drooping lie ills. Mil u 100 moiirnlul iHi.o was eii n.-d Limy all snouted in cnoniq awl threw their spears ;u the air. in •in ime.ivrc was repealed three times :u slice m, toe i they laid down tin-ir siii.-J.ls at t.ieir See., struck Lueir spcar.J into :no ground, and slunk oil quietly to their lairs. 1 h.i.i spread my blanket beneath tie; wiiu orange tree, where an overhanging branch mule a chequered shadow on the sail l, but l felt lil-ile icciuiatihm for .-!u,n. The truth is, i. was afraid to sleep. S .iitary individuals had from time to time been lost sight oi in a mysterious way between toe stations. 11 was a coin mo i topi.: of conversation, It tile; were not picked oil by the blacks, Urn blacks I had, at ad events, to bear tile hlam of it. i There v. as hardly any oh. or way o; account- j lug l.»r the sudden disappearance of the way- : furors. I therefore stole away, with a'.l my ! belongings— under the tree:;, to the darkest cover 1 could ikml in trio middle of the lmi/gu : scrub. 1. had reason t > he satisfied with my. sell" > next morning lor tiie precaution I lub taken I over n’ght to insure lay salcty, when I went ! back to the ashes ot iny lire. Tno ni.hfc- j prowler had been abroad. lat one: noticed I that several little articles which J. hud ielt j behind me had been stolen, and I saw tin; I print of a big, bare foot ia tli; sand. My ; saddle and bridle, however, were lying wh no j l had left them. 1 tracked tile footprints ! for a considerable distance, until I lost them | ail at once in a broad area of cotton bu m. ) Then 1 caugli my horse ami made populations for an early start. The blacks generally sleep late of a morninn. At first i had intended to call them up amt inquire about the midnight pilferer, but on second thoughts i considered it wiser ‘ to let sleeping dogs lie,’ so 1 filled my waterbags ami got into the sad le a little after sunrise, with a long day’s ride before me. L turned my back upon Central Australia , with reluctance and regret. 1 had suffered ! the extremes of hunger and thirst in my j wanderings, amt my food, at the best of times, had been of i-iio coarsest ami most uupal liable description, still, my health was better, and 1 felt myself stronger th.lu I ever j hail been at any former period of my lit’, j Tin: atmosphere was sw pure and invigorat- j aig, that I. no'.', r felt tiie lassitude ot la ig ie, i even on the warmest day. No doubt m v:.} j generations wiii iuive com** ami gone b..fore j the wilderness is all in blossom with iiici olive ami the vine; bur, at some oi.MmL j date, the railway whistle will startle the : emu on the central plains. 1 like the husliman of the interior. He is | a very different individual from the station- j hands who congregate on the river Iroulagej j of New Mouth M ales, in ’.he busy season of i tiie year. He stands apart from them even i in outward uppeurano ■•. His close companion- | siiip with the sun has burnt him as brown | as a burry. He is grave and taciturn, ami j inured to solitude. The natural bar iihou.i j of his character has been intensified by die | ri.-ks and vicissitudes of his life. He lias the. | gift or patience, ami he is contented with j very pour fare indeed. The love of adveu- ' lure has taken root in hi* very mil, ami ho 1 hates all the trammels of conventional re- j straint. lie lias many maiiiy attributes, ami j lie is almost Ireo ironi the iu alter vices of civilised life.