the waiting-room and round the door outside. Getting tired, the
master asked a clerk who was passing in to see the surveyor, to tell him
there were a number of emigrants wanting lots and if he would be pleased
to help them. We heard the message given and the reply 'I am engaged
with Colonel Rivers, and cannot possibly see them today; go and take
their names and the places where they are staying.' So we gave our
names, said the master, and came away sick at heart. While waiting in
the tavern at a loss what to do a man came into the barroom and asked if
he was Mr Anderson. He had heard he wanted land and could introduce him
to a party who would supply him at a reasonable price. 'I have not come
all the way from Scotland to pay for land; I expect to get a lot on the
government's conditions.' You can get such a lot, replied the stranger,
but when you see it you would not take it. All the government lots are
in the back country, and often wet or stony. What you want is good land
and near a market. He talked on, trying to persuade the master to go
with him and make a purchase, but he said he would take time to think
over what he had told him. The stranger pressed him to come to the bar
and have a treat; the master said No. After he was gone the master asked
the tavern-keeper if he knew the man. 'Oh, yes, he is a runner for the
big bugs who have land for sale.' 'How came he to know I wanted land?'
'Were you not at the surveyor-general's office this morning and left
your name? There is a regular machine to get all the money out of you
emigrants that can be squeezed.' The landlord said nearly all the
desirable land was held by private persons, who had got large grants
under one pretence or another and who were selling it for cash, when the
emigrant had any, or on mortgage if he had none, for if he failed in his
payments they got the lot back with all the improvements the emigrant
and his family had made. After dinner the master took a walk, and
passing along the street the thought struck him that he should call at
the post-office, for there might be a letter from Scotland. Asking a
gentleman to direct him to the office, the reply was he was going that
way and would show him. 'You're a Scotchman,' remarked the gentleman,
'What part are you from?' From Ayrshire. 'That is my native county.' So
they talked until the office was reached. Standing at the door, the
master told him of his perplexity about getting land. 'Ask if there is a
l