Chapter Seventeen

The Great Land Lottery

BREAKFAST AT Barrakee the following morning was taken very early, because the Land Board, sitting at half past ten at Wilcannia, seventy-five miles down the river, wasted little time. An excited group gathered outside the double garden gates, where three cars were waiting.

Dugdale was driving the Barrakee car, and would have with him Kate and Ralph, who were going to Wilcannia for the trip and to shop, and Edwin Black, who with Dugdale was an applicant for land. Mr Watts was driving his own car and was accompanied by two boundary-riders and Blair, the bullock-driver, all applicants. The third car was owned by Mr Hemming, a station-manager, and with him were one of his jackeroos and two of his riders.

Mrs Watts and her family had come to the homestead and would remain there the day, helping with the preparations for the surprise party. Everyone was talking atonce, all were keyed to a racecourse pitch of excitement. There is nothing that would more quickly damn any government of New South Wales than for it to take away the people’s Land Lottery.

Frank Dugdale had just given a final glance to oil-gauge and radiator when John Thornton drew him aside.

“I wish you luck, Dug,” he said earnestly. “Here is a letter addressed to the Board, in which I have stated that if your application is considered favourably, I am prepared to stock your block onvery extended terms. Say nothing to the Board which is not absolutely to the point.”

Dugdale accepted the proffered letter, and, looking straight into his employer’s eyes, thanked him with his usual sincerity. From Dugdale the squatter turned to Blair.

Blair was dressed in a black suit that fitted him like a pair of tights, but with by no means the comfortable freedom of action that tights give. A black velour hat was set at a rakish angle on his greying head; new brown elastic-sided riding-boots adorned his feet. At a right-angle from his chin his beard, carefully trimmed, stuck out pugnaciously.

“Look here, Blair,” Thornton said when he had drawn the little bullock-driver aside: “I want you to remember that it is most important that Tilly’s Tank be cleaned out before the rain comes. If you get drunk, don’t create a riot and get yourself locked up whatever else you do, for I’m relying on you to finish that tank-cleaning job.”

“If Knowles and his demonswants their blasted jail whitewashed, then they are going to shoot me in, drunk or sober, if I come out of a church or out of a pub,” Blair said with conviction. “I might have just one snifter. But I am going to Wilcannia to gamble with the blooming Land Board, and not a publican.”

“I am glad to hear that. The best of luck to you, Blair. You have now worked for me for more than fifteen years. Tell the Board that, and say also that if they grant you a block I’ll buy you a house. Now, don’t forget-only one snifter.”

The little man, his short feet set at twenty minutes to four, looked up at the squatter with suddenly shining eyes.

“I didn’t say I’d have only one snifter,” he said slowly. “I said I might have just one, meaning more than one or none at all. Thank you for the offer of that house, though.”

A chorus of “goodbyes” and “good lucks” floated through the still morning air, when the three cars moved off from the homestead. Dugdale, in the leading car, asked Ralph, who, with Black, was sitting in the rear, the exact time.

“Half past eight, Dug, old boy. Plenty of time, isn’t there?”

“For us, yes. But Watts will have to push his light car. Hemming will have to step on it fairly constant. Keep a look out, will you? We must not get too far ahead.”

“Why, Dug?” asked Kate. “They will be all right, won’t they?”

“Other things being equal, they will,” the sub-overseer told her, in an even tone of voice which required effort to maintain. “But we have no time to spare, and, the occasion being all-important to most of us, the occupants of any car that breaks down will have to be distributed between the remaining two cars. We couldn’t leave one car-load behind to miss the Board.”

“You’re right, Dug. That would be too bad.”

They had been travelling about an hour when one of the tyres blew out. The following cars drew up behind and many hands whipped off the tyre and replaced it with the spare. The change was made in a little less than two minutes. And then, later, Mr Hemming had tyre trouble which took longer to remedy, since he had punctured the spare the day before and had omitted to repair it.

Yet another delayoccurred when thirty miles above Wilcannia, at a small station homestead, the owner and his wife would not permit them to go on till everyone had had a cup of tea and a slice of brownie. So that it was a quarter to eleven before they braked up before the Court House of what once was known as theQueen City of the West.

In the precincts of the commodious Court House were dozens of travel-stained cars, dozens of trucks, motor-cycles, and many buggies, buckboards and gigs.

In common with every applicant arriving at the Court House, the party from Barrakee made their way through a knot of men about the entrance, near which was a board bearing a typewritten list of names in alphabetical order.

The list comprised eighty names, those of the applicants to be interviewed by the Board during the third consecutive day of its sitting in Wilcannia. For weeks past the same gentlemen had travelled from township to township, and had examined hundreds of applicants: some further weeks would be occupied in travelling to many other townships to examine hundreds more. There were fourteen blocks of land thrown open for public selection, and probably there were eighteen to twenty hundred applicants hoping to obtain one of them.

The Barrakee overseer withdrew from the waiting knot of men, together with several others of the party whose names would not be called until the afternoon. Almost immediately on their arrival Edwin Black was called.

Dugdale gave him a reassuring nod and a bystander called “Good luck”, when the jackeroo entered the room where sat the Board. He was within perhaps ten minutes, and emerged with a facial expression giving no indication of even hope. Then Blair was called.

Before starting for the door the little man re-set his black hat, and thrust out his chin as though to relieve the strain of the unfamiliar collar.

“Good old Fred,” somebody sang out. There was a general laugh containing a hint of expectancy. “Don’t forget to lay down the law, Fred,” another voice said.

At the portals of the room stood Sergeant Knowles. Before him Blair paused, the light of battle suddenly dying in his eyes.

“Now, youain’t going to try to arrest me before I’ve had me say, are you, Sarge?” he said with genuine surprise.

“No, Blair. I have no intention of doing that,” replied the policeman.

Reassured, Blair again re-set his headgear and worked his Adam’s apple clear of the choking collar. Then, with a determined swagger, and his beard slightly raised in its angle, he entered the presence of the Land Board.

Before him he saw three men seated at three sides of a table covered with official papers. He was invited to be seated at the vacant side, and, having settledhimself, sat with one leg negligently crossed over the knee of the other, the hat now pushed back low over his neck.

“Frederick Blair?” said the gentleman facing him.

“That’s me,” replied Blair.

The Chairman of the Board looked up from a paper and smiled. He and his confreres knew Frederick Blair. He pushed across the table a soiled Bible, and took from the secretary-member Blair’s application form. The usual oath administered, he said:

“You have applied for either of Blocks three-ten and three-twenty, Mr Blair. What do you know of them?”

“I know more about ’emthan I do the back of me ’and.”

“Humph! What amount of cash have you, Mr Blair?’ ”

“I’ve got seven hundred and nineteen pounds, seventeen shillings, and ten pence in the Bank of United Australia,”came Blair’s somewhat surprising answer.

“Have you, indeed? Why, you could almost buy a small place, Mr Blair.”

“You know darned well that I couldn’t buy a small place for seven hundred, nor yet seven thousand,” Blair burst out. “Itain’t needful for me to tell you that nothingunder twenty thousand acres in this district is any good to a bloke, and that the auction price per acre is round about twelve bob. How am I going to buy twenty thousand acres with seven hundred quid, eh?”

“It might-”

“You know darned well it couldn’t,” Blair shouted venomously. “ ’Ere are you throwing open a measly fourteen blocks when there’s some twenty hundred men struggling to get homes, and that there Sirflamin ’ Walter Thorley owns half Australia, which belongs to no man but the Government, which is the people.

“Two thousand blokes, mark you. Most of ’emmarried and with a family, and the rest wanting to get married and have children; and you allow Thorley to own hundreds of miles of the people’s land, employ a fewabos and breed dingo, and see hisbloomin ’ land once every two years.”

“We must not discuss-” came from the chairman.

“Of course not,” cut in Blair. “We must not take the name of the great Sir Walter Thorley in vain, but when there’s a war we must fight for his land and his money-bags, eh? We mustn’t saynothing, we must offer up thanks to the worst employer in the State and breeder of sheep-killers, and bless him for allowing us to live at all.

“I’ve been cheated out of my birthright, yes, me and hundreds of others. I got a right to have a wife, to have children by her, to make and have and hold a home. Can I ask any woman to marry me when I can’t give her a home? Can I get a home when you won’t give me the lease of any land? Can you open up the land as it should be opened when Thorley and all the rest of the absentee squatters have grabbed the lot? Whatflamin ’ use is it to the country to allow one man to own twenty millions of acres when that area would support one thousand families-that’s what I want to know?

“Here am I,” went on Blair with greater rapidity, “now fifty-two years old. All my life I bin on the Darling River. Twenty-one years ago I fell in love with a woman down inPooncaira. For twenty-one years she’s beenwaitin ’ for me to make a home. But my girl, aye, andme, too, will kick the bucket afore we ever have a home. Yes, cheated out of our birthright, two humans out of hundreds. That’s all, gents.”

Blair’s eyes were suspiciously moist when he rose to his feet, at the end of this tirade, shouted in a loud voice. He had had his say, and felt like a man in the dock proven innocent.

“One moment, Mr Blair,” came the chairman’s tired voice. “As I tried to say, we cannot discuss the big leaseholders at these proceedings. We have to confine ourselves strictly to the present business, which is the allocation of land, and not the discussion of politics. The Board will give your application the usual consideration, and you will be notified of the Board’s decision. You said just now that there are many married men with families in want of a block of land. Like them, you could have married had you wished.”

“I could,” replied Blair instantly. “But the men can’t live with their families unless they work in or about a town. Being a bushman, I can’t get a job in a town. Still, you’re right, mister, I suppose. The woman and children first-after Thorley is satisfied. Good day-ee.”

Head erect, the point of his beard horizontal with his nose, Blair marched out. If he saw the sergeant of police, or the waiting crowd, he made no sign. Passing through this latter, he stalked across the street and, enteringan hotel, stood erect in front of a bar and ordered a double whisky.

Dugdale’s interview with the Board was less dramatic. He answered the chairman’s questions quietly and to the point. Thornton’s letter, offering to stock any block he might receive, also spoke highly of the young man’s character and abilities.

“I want this block, gentlemen, not only for the purpose of making money out of wool, but in order that I may marry and have a home of my own,” Dugdale said in conclusion.

The chairman forced a smile. He had heard that plea so many times before. Privately he wondered how any man wanting to get married, and wanting a home, could be such an utter fool as to stay in the Australian bush.

When Dugdale foundhimself dismissed he was unable to decide what effect his present application had had on the members of the Land Board. He felt a little sick at heart. It seemed all such a gamble, a gamble with men’s desires and hopes. Fourteen blocks among two thousand applicants. The odds against the home were about a hundred and fifty to one.

The three cars left Wilcannia about five o’clock, the occupants seldom speaking, the reaction of the gamble being felt. They would each experience the pleasure of anticipation for several weeks, until the post brought them the result of the Great Land Lottery.

In the second car, morose and silent, sat Frederick Blair. He was quite sober.

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