Such
A Man In The Bush And In The Town Is As Different As A Fish In And Out Of
Water.
Some of the finest fellows "outside the tracks" are the least respectable
in civilised places, where before long they
Can find no better occupation
than drinking, which, owing to months of teetotalism in the bush, they are
less able to stand than the ordinary individual who takes his beer or
spirits daily. And thus it is that bushmen very often get the name of
being loafers and drunkards, though on the aggregate they consume far less
liquor than our most respected citizens in the towns. The sudden change in
surroundings, good food, and the number of fellow-creatures, the noise of
traffic, and want of exercise - all these combined are apt to affect a
man's head, even when unaided by the constant flow of liquor with which a
popular bushman is deluged - a deluge hard to resist in a country where to
refuse a drink amounts to an insult. A plan recommended by some is to
"please 'em all by one jolly good spree, and then knock off and drink with
nobody." A man only gives offence who discriminates in his entertainers.
I fear I have wandered far from the subject of our journey, for Luck and I
had some time yet before us until the joys and troubles of civilised life
should be ours. The daily routine of travel was varied occasionally by
incidents of no great moment; for instance, when riding through the scrub,
Omerod, a rather clumsy old camel, tripped and fell, pinning me beneath
him, without injury to either of us; for a water bag acted as a buffer
between my leg and the saddle, and by the time all the water was squeezed
out of it, Luck had the saddle off, and I was extricated.
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