CHAPTER FOUR

Ben rode slowly, holding the reins short. Despite the extra weight, the chestnut mare was spirited, anxious to quicken her pace after her tight confinement below decks during the sea passage from Cooktown.

Kiri sat behind Ben in silence, her arms clasped tightly around his middle. It was only a short distance from the wharf to a toll bridge which spanned the Brisbane River. A toll collector with knowing eyes and bad black teeth leered at Kiri's long brown legs, and picked his due from coins in Ben's outstretched hand.

The bridge led directly onto Queen Street, the dusty in the dry, muddy in the wet, main thoroughfare of the town. Both sides of the street were lined with rickety old shanties interspersed with a number of newer and larger buildings made of brick and stone. Several other buildings of the same newer type were under various stages of construction. It was plain to see the town was in the midst of a building boom.

Ben reined in at the first drapery shop he saw, a dilapidated clap-board structure , sandwiched between two newer buildings. He tied the mare to a post outside, then swung his saddle-bags over his shoulder and led Kiri inside.

A plump woman stood behind a cluttered counter. `May I help you then?' she asked cheerfully in a voice that rang with the hills of Wales. She had grey hair, a kind face, and a motherly smile which vanished the moment she noticed Kiri's bruised and swollen face. She turned on Ben with contempt in her eyes.

'This girl has no clothes,' Ben said. 'Please find her something suitable. I shall be happy to pay for it.'
'Very well. What kind of dress would she like?' the shopkeeper asked stiffly.
Ben shrugged. 'I know nothing of these things. Perhaps you could select something you think befitting.'
'Why don't you let her pick one? Or is she not allowed to speak for herself?'
'I do not think she is able to speak.'
The comely shopkeeper could not contain herself any longer. She reached for Kiri and drew her tightly against her chest.
'This poor girl is a Melanesian islander isn't she? Stolen from her home and family by a labor ship no doubt. Just look at her... little more than a baby, and used and abused by the likes of you—a half-breed Chinese. You should be ashamed of yourself.'
Ben raised his hand defensively. I am afraid you misunderstand Madam. Less than half an hour ago I found this girl naked and being beaten on the dock across the river. I forced off her attackers and covered her with my coat. Now she will not leave me.'
The shopkeeper relaxed her protective hold and Kiri freed her face from her heaving bosom. Tears streamed down her face. She pointed a finger toward herself and sobbed, 'I am Kiri ... I am Kiri,' and tried to wipe her eyes and smile at the same time.
The shopkeeper smiled her motherly smile again. 'And I am Mrs Llewellyn.' she said gently. She turned to Ben. 'And what would your name be young man?'
'I am Ben Luk.'
'Please accept my apologies, Mr Luk. It's just that seeing this girl this way distresses me so. You must allow me some time to indulge her. Before she wears new clothes she is in need of a good hot water soaking in the tub in my kitchen, behind the shop. I can also see she is in need of some kindness and affection. I fear she has seen neither for quite some time.'
When Ben opened his mouth to speak, Mrs Llewellyn put a silencing finger to her lips and pointed in the direction of the door. 'Now shoo, Mr Luk ... and don't come back for an hour or so, better still two hours.'
Ben turned to leave, then paused. 'I have business at the Queensland Imperial Bank. Perhaps you can tell me where it is.'
'No more than a stone's throw from here, Mr Luk, on the same side of the street, you can't miss it,'Mrs Llewellyn called out as she led Kiri into the back of the store.
Ben walked down the street to one of the newer and more impressive buildings which bore the name of the bank on a polished brass plate mounted on the wall.
An aloof young bank clerk with neatly-combed hair and a pale sallow face eyed Ben skeptically when he stepped up to the head-high brass grill which ran the full length of a long cedar counter.
'Yes?' the clerk asked curtly, eyebrows raised.
'I am Ben Luk. I wish to speak with a Mr James Whitworth.'
'Do you have an appointment with Mr Whitworth?'
'No, I don't.'
'Then I'm afraid it's quite impossible to see him.'
'Is Mr Whitworth not here today,' Ben asked.
'Yes, he's here.'
'Then why is it impossible for me to see him?'
The clerk sighed.' Mr Whitworth sees no-one without an appointment. Perhaps if you tell me the nature of your business, I may be able to help you.'
'Very well. Since I am unable to see Mr Whitworth, would you assist me in makinga cash withdrawal?'
'In what amount?'
'Four thousand pounds.'
The clerk's jaw sagged. 'Just one moment, sir.'
Ben grinned as the clerk hurried away and scurried inside a private office at the end of the long cedar counter. Almost immediately a balding fat man emerged from the office. He waddled towards Ben, his face beaming, a chubby hand outstretched.
'Mr Luk. It is indeed a pleasure to meet you. I trust you had a pleasant passage down from Cooktown.'
Ben entered the office and the banker ushered him intoa large comfortable chair across from his own at an enormous mahogany desk. Whitworth laughed nervously and his large jowls jiggled with a will of their own.
'I must apologize for my clerk, Mr Luk. Please be assured that as a valued customer of the bank, my services are always available to you.' Whitworth picked up a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles, puffed on the lenses and rubbed them intently for a few moments with a large red handkerchief. 'Mr Luk, you were not serious I hope about making such a large withdrawal.'
Ben shook his head. 'I do not think that will be necessary now, Mr Whitworth.'
Whitworth smiled and drew a large brown envelope from a drawer in his desk. He pulled some papers from it and put on his glasses.
'Now, I have here the correspondence from our branch in Cooktown and your funds, amounting to a little over four thousand pounds, are now lodged safely with us here at this branch.'
Ben sat and waited while the bank manager briefly ran his eyes over the papers. After a few moments Whitworth looked up. 'Our Cooktown branch manager says here that you intend to engage yourself in some sort of business here in Brisbane. He also says that you will appreciate any assistance that the bank may be able to provide.' Whitworth took off his glasses and leaned back in his chair.' What kind of assistance did you have in mind, Mr Luk?'
'Mr Whitworth, may I be perfectly frank with you?'
'Please do, please do,' the fat banker urged.
'I do indeed wish to become a merchant in Brisbane, and I hope a successful one,' Ben said. 'But I have little knowledge of business matters and I know no men of commerce. Also as you can plainly see I am of mixed blood which, as your clerk demonstrated earlier, only increases my difficulties. I shall need whatever assistance I can get. In that regard as a banker, you can be most helpful to me.'
'I will certainly do whatever I can, Mr Luk,' Whitworth said without much enthusiasm. 'The bank would be prepared to consider any proposal you may care to put forward and ...'
Ben waved a hand. 'Oh no, Mr Whitworth, I shall not ask you for money, for I shall be indebted to no man. But I would appreciate your advice in any financial matters I may pursue. And I would be grateful if, from time to time, you would refer me to other men of your acquaintance whom it may benefit me to know.'
Whitworth looked at Ben solemnly. 'I will do what I can, Mr Luk.'
Ben reached for his saddle-bags beside his chair and lifted them up onto the desk. 'In return for your assistance, Mr Whitworth, I will undertake to keep my money in your bank, now and in the future. In Cooktown, I opened my account with a thousand ounces of gold at four pounds five shilling an ounce. In these saddle bags I have a thousand ounces more for which I will accept the same figure and I will deposit the proceeds into my account here today.'
Whitworth's face beamed and his dimpled hand shot out once more and took Ben's in a flabby grip. 'You can be assured of my personal assistance in any matter at any time, Mr Luk. I shall have my accountant assay the gold and credit your account. In the meantime, is there anything I can do for you at the moment?'
'Perhaps there is, Mr Whitworth. Having just arrived this morning I have nowhere to live as yet. I require nothing extravagant, just a small house on a few acres would satisfy my needs. What would you suggest?'
Whitworth took to cleaning his glasses again. 'The order of things in Brisbane with regard to housing has become quite clear cut.' he said. 'The higher one's income, the higher the ground one occupies. The whole of the town is built upon a series of hills, valleys and riverflats. The better-off live on high ground which allows sewage to run off to land which the less fortunate are obliged to occupy. Consequently the high ground is more conducive to gracious living. Also those areas get the best of cooling breezes and are never flooded by summer rains.'
'I think I would prefer something outside of the town,' Ben said.
Whitworth put his glasses back on his nose.
'Well I may be able to help you there, Mr Luk. It happens the bank was forced to foreclose on a sixty-five acre property at Graceville, six or seven miles upstream, on the banks of the Brisbane River. It is an attractive property, modest, but certainly worthy of a man of your financial standing.'
'At what price?' Ben asked.
The bank would be prepared to accept what is owing to us, something in the region of eleven hundred pounds, I believe. If you would like to see the place, Mr Luk, I will give you a key before you leave.'
'Thank you, Mr Whitworth.' Ben stood up to leave. 'I shall ride out and view the property, and advise you of my decision within a few days.'
*
It was a full two hours before Ben returned to Mrs Llewellyn's store. When he arrived she showed him through to the living quarters. When he saw Kiri he marveled at the transformation. She stood in the centre of the living-room, tall and radiant in a long white dress with a bright red sash drawn tightly around her tiny waist.
'Close your mouth, Mr Luk, before you start catching flies.' Mrs Llewellyn said laughingly in her sing-song Welsh voice. She turned to Kiri and nodded encouragingly.
'Thank you for helping me, Ben Luk,' Kiri said in slow, well rehearsed words. Ben smiled.
'We have been practicing that sentence for almost an hour now,' Mrs Llewellyn said happily. But her smile quickly turned to a frown. 'Kiri spoke a few other words in English while you were away, Mr Luk—just rough sailor talk. What she said was not very nice. I think I know what has happened to her over the past few months. It must have been terrible. She needs to be looked after. I will do what I can, but I have very limited means.'
Ben took Mrs Llewellyn by the arm and spoke softly. 'My father was killed when I was just a little younger than this girl is now. I was fortunate to have a kind man take me in. I know well how she must feel at this moment. If you can find it in your heart to take her in, even for just a short time, please do. I will be very glad to provide whatever money is required to prevent her from becoming a financial burden to you.'
*
It was mid-afternoon and the Faithful was already lying alongside the wharf taking on supplies when Captain Cockburn returned to the ship after completing his business ashore.
Charles watched the captain stride up the ship's gang-plank from the window of Silas Moser's office which faced onto the dock. Bates, the recruiter, who Charles recognized as the man who had punched him earlier on the wharf, stood at the top of the plank with a large white bandage wrapped around his face. The two men spoke briefly, then Cockburn turned and hurried back ashore.
When Cockburn entered the office he stood stiffly beside Charles in front of Silas Moser's desk.
' Bates told me you wished to see me, sir,' he said quietly.
'Did he also tell you the reason why, Captain?' Moser snapped
'He told me about the Kanaka girl swimming ashore, sir, and of the whipping on the wharf.'
Silas Moser rose from his desk and gazed out over the river. Outwardly he appeared calm but rage simmered just below the surface. After a long silence he said: You will never, ever bring another nigger into the Port of Brisbane again. Do I make myself absolutely clear, Captain Cockburn?'
'Yes, sir.'
Moser took a deep breath. 'Fortunately for us all, Captain, the only witness to the whole unsavory business was young Charles here, who was well rewarded for his trouble with a bloodied nose at the hands of that lout Bates.' Moser turned from the window and faced Cockburn. 'Now tell me Isaiah, why was this Mary not sold to the highest bidder on the docks when the Faithful was in Bundaberg?'
'The government agent took a particular shine to this one, sir,' Cockburn replied. 'She is a good-looking girl. Some would say even beautiful. She was the one we took aboard in the Trobriands at the time of the attack by the savages of Kiriwina Island. Higgins insisted she be kept aboard for one more cruise before she was sold.'
Charles was trying hard to understand what he was hearing.
'Why are these people brought here in the first place, Mr Moser?' he asked in amazement. 'Is it not just open slavery with the acquiescence of a British colonial government?'
Moser eyed Charles sternly. 'You have been in the colony for only one day, young man. Do not jump to conclusions so readily. Firstly, let me point out to you that it is the services of the Kanakas that are sold to the plantation owners, not the Kanakas themselves. Secondly, they are paid some six pounds per annum for each of the three years they serve under their labor agreement, and thirdly, the blacks come of their own free will. Is that not true, Captain Cockburn?'
'Well ... yes ... for the most part.' Cockburn's eyes moved restlessly, avoiding contact with either Moser or Charles. 'I suppose there may be some abuses—few and far between, mind you. But in every instance, in the long run, the blacks benefit greatly from their term of service.'
'What type of work do they perform on the northern plantations, sir?' Charles asked Moser.
Moser shrugged. 'Mainly cane cutting and other field work that God never intended white men to perform, and to some extent they relieve the labor shortage that has always hindered the development of agriculture in the colony. Why, Robert Towns, one of our great pioneers, could never have established his cotton and pastoral properties without Kanakas. He was the first to recruit South Sea islanders. Without Kanaka labor, the thriving community of Townsville, which bears his name, would not even exist.'
Charles looked bemused. ' I must admit, sir, I'm surprised the practice exists at all in 1883. After all, it's been decades since this sort of thing was abolished in the United States of America.'
'And much to the regret of the plantation owners of that country, I am told.' Moser said drily. 'You must understand, Charles, that things are a far cry from the old days. Years ago, recruiting ships roamed the South Seas equipped with leg and wrist-irons, and with neck shackles and chains when procuring blacks. And they carried harpoons which they used to impale the islander's canoes in order to capture the natives.' Moser's mouth widened briefly into a patronizing smile. 'But those days have gone forever, Charles. Now recruiting vessels must be licensed and carry a government-appointed agent, to see to it that the rules and regulations are adhered to, and that the terms of engagement are fully understood. I suppose there are isolated cases where the Kanakas don't fully understand all the details, but you must realize, we really are doing them a great favor by bringing them here, away from their lives of sloth, and giving themthe chance to perform honest, character-building labor.'
'I suppose it must be a profitable enterprise, Mr Moser,' Charles said.
'Indeed, Charles. In fact, the demand always exceeds the supply. We advertise the availability of Kanakas in the local newspapers for say, fifteen pounds a head, and then take applications from plantation owners. Captain Cockburn then applies to the government for the necessary licenses to recruit enough islanders to fill all the applications, just as he did at the government offices today.' Moser turned his eyes to Cockburn. 'You did get your necessary permits I take it, Isaiah?'
'Yes I did, sir,' Cockburn replied.
'And you submitted a detailed report of the incident in the Trobriand Islands?'
'I did, sir, and the authorities urged us to be very careful in those waters in future.'
'Andso you must be, Captain.' Moser stood up. 'Very well gentlemen, let's put this whole unfortunate occurrence behind us and get on with our business.' He reached out and shook Cockburn's hand. 'Have a safe and prosperous voyage, Isaiah. And you, Charles , may I suggest you see Mrs Cripps and get settled into your digs.'
Charles and Cockburn left together. When they were outside the building Charles said, 'What do you think will happen to the girl, Captain Cockburn? What will the poor thing do now?'
Cockburn looked straight ahead. Without breaking his stride toward the Faithful, he said:
'She should get down on her knees. She should pray long and hard to God Almighty. Pray that Silas Moser never finds her, because as sure as the sun comes up tomorrow morning, I know he won't rest until he does.'