. . . . .
That morning, after breakfast, I saw two people, a man and a woman, come
riding up to the garden gate. I knew who it was as far as I could see 'em—George
Storefield and Gracey. He lifted her down, and they walked up through the
garden. I went a step or two to meet them. She ran forward and threw
herself into my arms. George turned away for a bit. Then I put her by, and
told her to sit down on the verandah while I had a talk with George. He
shook hands with me, and said he was glad to see me a free man again.
'I've worked a bit, and got others to work too,' says he; 'mostly for her,
and partly for your own sake, Dick. I can't forget old times. Now you're
your own man again, and I won't insult you by saying I hope you'll keep
so; I know it, as sure as we stand here.'
'Look here, George,' I said, 'as there's a God in heaven, no man shall
ever be able to say a word against me again. I think more of what you've
done for me almost than of poor Gracey's holding fast. It came natural to
her. Once a woman takes to a man, it don't matter to her what he is. But
if you'd thrown me off I'd have not blamed you. What's left of Dick
Marston's life belongs to her and you.'
. . . . .
That day week Gracey and I were married, very quiet and private. We
thought we'd have no one at the little church at Bargo but George and his
wife, the old woman, and the chap as drove me home. Just as we were going
into the church who should come rattling up on horseback but Maddie Barnes
and her husband—Mrs. Moreton, as she was now, with a bright-looking
boy of ten or eleven on a pony. She jumps off and gives the bridle to him.
She looked just the same as ever, a trifle stouter, but the same saucy
look about the eyes. 'Well, Dick Marston,' says she, 'how are you? Glad to
see you, old man. You've got him safe at last, Gracey, and I wish you joy.
You came to Bella's wedding, Dick, and so I thought I'd come to yours,
though you kept it so awful quiet. How d'ye think the old horse looks?'
'Why, it's never Rainbow?' says I. 'It's twelve years and over since I saw
him last.'
'I didn't care if it was twenty,' said she. 'Here he is, and goes as sound
as a bell. His poor old teeth are getting done, but he ain't the only one
that way, is he, Joe? He'll never die if I can keep him alive. I have to
give him corn-meal, though, so as he can grind it easy.'
'I believe she thinks more of that old moke than me and the children all
put together,' says Joe Moreton.
'And why shouldn't I?' says Maddie, facing round at him just the old way.
'Isn't he the finest horse that ever stood on legs, and didn't he belong
to the finest gentleman that you or any one else looked at? Don't say a
word against him, for I can't stand it. I believe if you was to lay a whip
across that old horse in anger I'd go away and leave you, Joe Moreton,
just as if you was a regular black stranger. Poor Rainbow! Isn't he a
darling?' Here she stroked the old horse's neck. He was rolling fat, and
had a coat like satin. His legs were just as clean as ever, and he stood
there as if he heard everything, moving his old head up and down the way
he always did—never still a moment. It brought back old times, and I
felt soft enough, I tell you. Maddie's lips were trembling again, too, and
her eyes like two coals of fire. As for Joe, he said nothing more, and the
best thing too. The boy led Rainbow over to the fence, and old George
walked us all into the church, and that settled things.
After the words were said we all went back to George's together, and
Maddie and her husband drank a glass of wine to our health, and wished us
luck. They rode as far as the turn off to Rocky Flat with us, and then
took the Turon road.
'Good-bye, Dick,' says Maddie, bending down over the old horse's neck.
'You've got a stunning good wife now, if ever any man had in the whole
world. Mind you're an A1 husband, or we'll all round on you, and your life
won't be worth having; and I've got the best horse in the country, haven't
I? See where the bullet went through his poor neck. There's no lady in the
land got one that's a patch on him. Steady, now, Rainbow, we'll be off in
a minute. You shall see my little Jim there take him over a hurdle yard.
He can ride a bit, as young as he is. Pity poor old Jim ain't here to-day,
isn't it, Dick? Think of him being cold in his grave now, and we here.
Well, it's no use crying, is it?'
And off went Maddie at a pace that gave Joe and the boy all they knew to
catch her.
. . . . .
We're to live here for a month or two till I get used to outdoor work and
the regular old bush life again. There's no life like it, to my fancy.
Then we start, bag and baggage, for one of George's Queensland stations,
right away up on the Barcoo, that I'm to manage and have a share in.
It freshens me up to think of making a start in a new country. It's a long
way from where we were born and brought up; but all the better for that.
Of course they'll know about me; but in any part of Australia, once a chap
shows that he's given up cross doings and means to go straight for the
future, the people of the country will always lend him a helping hand,
particularly if he's married to such a wife as Gracey. I'm not afraid of
any of my troubles in the old days being cast up to me; and men are so
scarce and hard to get west of the Barcoo that no one that once had Dick
Marston's help at a muster is likely to remind him of such an old story as
that of 'Robbery Under Arms'.
THE END
Notes on the text:
General:
The original serial of this story had roughly 29,000 more words than
the version given here, but it should be noted that this version is the
standard text that has been widely available since then.
The combination of this story being a serial, with cuts from the
original which may not have been perfectly executed, has led to a few
discrepancies. Thus, in Chapter 2 it is mentioned that Patsey Daly
was hanged, but in Chapter 44 the same character is shot to death. In
Chapter 42, Starlight (as Mr. Lascelles) dances with Maddie Barnes one
night, and the next day (in the same disguise) she does not recognise
him. And then there are some gaps: In Chapter 24, the story line
suddenly jumps from a scene where the characters are riding to the
Hollow, to a discussion about selling horses. In Chapter 31, Dick
Marston says “I did live to do her [Maddie Barnes] a good turn back...”
but there seems to be nothing later in the story worth mentioning in
this line. In Chapter 35, a reference is made to “old Mr. Devereux's
box”, which was apparently discovered in Chapter 22 or 23, but cut out
from this edition.
The story is still quite readable and enjoyable despite these things,
but they are mentioned so that the interested reader may look further
(if they desire) into obtaining an edition which includes the complete
text in the original Newspaper serial; and to give a general idea what
sort of things might have been cut.
“Captain Starlight” was the name used by a real bushranger, Frank
Pearson (1837-99), but Boldrewood claimed that his “Starlight” was a
composite based in part on “Captain Midnight” and Harry Redford (ca.
1842 to 1901), the latter of which stole a herd of cattle in a
similar manner to that described in the book. The factual events
that contributed to the story took place in the late 1860's and
other periods; but Boldrewood set his story in the 1850's. The name
“Starlight” is also used in Adam Lindsay Gordon's famous poem, “The Sick
Stockrider”.
“Warrigal”, the name of the half-caste character, is also an Australian
term for the Dingo, or native dog.
A couple other famous highwaymen are alluded to in the story.
Dick Turpin, who is mentioned twice, was an English
highwayman, 1706-39. There is apparently a legendary ride
from London to York that is popularly attributed to him, the
idea being that he established an alibi by covering the
distance so swiftly after a robbery.
Claude Duval was famous for being gallant to women. Born in
France, he came to England with the Duke of Richmond about
1660 (the Restoration), and turned out shortly afterwards.
Terms:
——-
There are a number of Australian terms in the text, which may not be
listed in non-Australian dictionaries—even unabridged ones. Here are a
few:
bail up: To stick up. According to Boldrewood, from the term used with
cows, where “bail up” means to secure a cow's head in a bail, a type of
frame, before milking.
bunyip: (pronounced bun-yup) A large mythological creature, said by the
Aborigines to inhabit watery places. There may be some relation to an
actual creature that is now extinct.
dinkum: Now means honest or genuine, but used by Boldrewood in its
obsolete sense, work, or an amount of work. (In fact, one major
Australian dictionary quotes this very book for an example of this
obsolete sense.)
forester: The eastern gray kangaroo.
gin: An Aboriginal woman—from an aboriginal word for “woman” or “wife”.
(Considered derogatory in current usage.)
jerran: Afraid. From an aboriginal language. Now obsolete.
mallee scrubber: “Mallee”, a variety of Eucalyptus, or a remote, wild
area (like “bush”); “Scrubber”, a farm animal that has gone wild; hence,
“mallee scrubber”, a wild farm animal in this environment.
shout: To buy drinks for a group, or the act of buying drinks.
store cattle: Cattle that are not ready for market, but need to be
fattened first. Hence, they are “in store” for future use, or for use as
stock.
skillion: A lean-to or outbuilding.
turkey: Probably Eupodotis (Otis) australis, the Australian Bustard.
(Also “native turkey”, “wild turkey”.)
Corrections:
—————-
The following errors were corrected from the original text:
Chapter 8:
“I flung down my note, and Jim did his, and told them that we owed to to
take” changed to
“owed to take”.
Chapter 19:
“and the look of a free man gone out of his face for over—” changed to
“out of his face for ever—“.
Chapter 28: (1st paragraph)
“But that's neither here not there.” changed to
“But that's neither here nor there.”
Chapter 52:
“'right away', as old Arizona Bill would have said when I was first
taken.” changed to
“'right away', as old Arizona Bill would have said, when I was first
taken.”
Technical:
————-
Chapter headings have been changed from Roman to Arabic numerals, for
ease of use.
Due to the limitations of ASCII, the British “Pounds” symbol, a crossed
L, where it comes before a figure, has been replaced by “Pound(s)” after
the figure(s). When this substitution has been made, the word “Pound” is
always capitalised. Examples: “L1” is “1 Pound”; “L6 or L8” is “6 or 8 Pounds”.
This text was transcribed from the Second Edition, which was first
printed in June of 1889.
A few foreign words had accents in the original edition. The most common
was “depo^t”, which has since become standardized in English as “depot”.
The others are “ame damnee” for “ame damne\e”; “cause celebre”
for “cause ce/le\bre”; and “vis-a-vis” for “vis-a\-vis”. In the
advertisements listed below, “Athenaeum” was originally “Athen(ae)um”.
From the original advertisements:
POPULAR NOVELS BY THE SAME AUTHOR.
THE MINER'S RIGHT. A Tale of the Australian Gold-Fields.
Athenaeum—“The picture is unquestionably interesting, thanks to the
very detail and fidelity which tend to qualify its attractiveness for
those who like excitement and incident before anything else.”
World—“Full of good passages, passages abounding in vivacity, in the
colour and play of life.... The pith of the book lies in its singularly
fresh and vivid pictures of the humours of the gold-fields,—tragic
humours enough they are, too, here and again....”
Manchester Examiner—“The characters are sketched with real life and
picturesqueness. Mr. Boldrewood accomplishes the very difficult feat of
enabling his readers not only to understand the bewildering complexities
of mining law, but to be interested in the situations which arise out of
their operation, while his fund of incident seems to be large enough
to meet all the demands made upon it. Indeed, the book is lively and
readable from first to last.”
THE SQUATTER'S DREAM.
Saturday Review—“It is not often that stories of colonial life are
so interesting as Mr. Boldrewood's 'Squatter's Dream'. There is enough
story in the book to give connected interest to the various incidents,
and these are all told with considerable spirit and at times
picturesqueness.”
Field—“The details are filled in by a hand evidently well conversant
with his subject, and everything is 'ben trovato', if not actually true.
A perusal of these cheerfully-written pages will probably give a better
idea of realities of Australian life than could be obtained from many
more pretentious works.”
A SYDNEY-SIDE SAXON.
Glasgow Herald—“The interest never flags, and altogether 'A Sydney-Side
Saxon' is a really refreshing book.”
Anti-Jacobin—“Thoroughly well worth reading.... A clever book,
admirably written.... Brisk in incident, truthful and lifelike in
character.... Beyond and above all it has that stimulating hygienic
quality, that cheerful, unconscious healthfulness, which makes a story
like 'Robinson Crusoe', or 'The Vicar of Wakefield', so unspeakably
refreshing after a course of even good contemporary fiction.”
A COLONIAL REFORMER.
Athenaeum—“A series of natural and entertaining pictures of Australian
life, which are, above all things, readable.”
Glasgow Herald—“One of the most interesting books about Australia we
have ever read.”
Saturday Review—“Mr. Boldrewood can tell what he knows with great point
and vigour, and there is no better reading than the adventurous parts of
his books.”