DIGGING DAYS ROMANCE.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1425, 22 June 1899, Page 28

DIGGING DAYS ROMANCE.

HELPING GOLD ROBBERS. An adventure with gold roobers is related in “The Argus” by a pioneer of the fifties. At Forest Creek his mate, Builer, and himself toon up a claim. They had travelled to the diggings from Encounter Bay, South Australia. “Every yard of ground of the first discovery at Forest Creek was covered by men. as thick as flies; gold was in evidence everywhere, and was the legal tender for any article. “One night ; after knocking off work, we were sitting over the fire, when a “Good night” out of the darkness attracted us. A stranger walked up to the fire, and said he wished to speak with us privately. ‘I am one of a successful party of diggers,’ he said, ‘and we want to get away quietly to Melbourne with our gold, as there are a lot of bad characters about.’ There were five in all, quite capable of taking care of themselves, and if we would take their swags and kit to Melbourne in our cart they were willing to pay handsomely for it. Twenty pound per man, or a hundred for the trip, was the offer they made, but we must close the bargain at once. Builer and I talked the matter over, and with the prospect of back loading at a big price it was arranged that I should take the job, while he continued work on the claim. ‘You must have your dray at our tents before daybreak to load up,’ he saidj we don’t want news of our going earned to every gold robber on the road. We will pick up two of the party at Fryer's Creek.’ He introduced me to the leader of the party, the man from whom I had to take all instructions, and who would pay me. He was named Tom

Wilson—thick-set, powerfully built, of immense strength, close-cropped hair, and with one eye missing he gave you the impression that he was eternally winking at you. Altogether about as unprepossessing a scoundrel as ever I clapped an eye on. He gave his instructions with a rich embroidery of oaths, was careful to impress upon me that if I failed to carry out his instructions I would find him ‘a nasty customer to deal with,’ but on the other hand that n I did my best and kept my mouth shut I should be well paid. “That night I took the cart over to their tent and loaded up. There was no need to tell me they had plenty of gold. I could see that. But they were very careful to handle it themselves, and stow it away carefully. We started down Hie road soon after daybreak, the men taking it in turn to ride and walk, and obeying al orders from One-eyed Wilson. At

Fryers’ Creek we picked up two others of the party with more gold. From casual scraps of conversation I suspected that they had though it wise to leave Forest Creek unostentatiously, and during he darkness. Many gold robberies had occurred here, and I telt pretty certain that I had closed a contract with a very undesirable gang. “I realised fully the character oi the men I was helping one night at Sawpit Gully. We got there late in the evening, and took very little trouble with the camp, as Wilson said we must start ear y. ‘You turn in after tea,’ he suggested, ‘and have a good night’s sleep. As the others soon spread their blankets, I did. so too, picking a spot under the cart, and turned in, with my pipe alight, for a quiet survey of Sawpit Gully. Close to the cart was a blacksmith’s shop and a large two-storied building used as a store, and a sign of which intimated that

gqld was bought and the highest price given for it. I don’t know how long I slept afterwards, but something faliingwith a heavy thud to the ground woke me, and, peering through the spokes of the cart into the clear moon light, i saw something that startled me. One of our men was looking from the open upper window of the store, and Wilson himself was walking to the dray with a heavybag in his hand. In the boldest way they had broken into the store, thrown out the gold, and walked away with it in a light so clear that anyone moving about, the place could not have helped seeing them. All my fears as to the character of the men were thus unmistakably confirmed.l was in with a gang of daring goM robbers, who would, I felt sure, stick at nothing. As Wilson approached the dray with the bag I closed my eyes, and feigned sleep. Had he known that I had witnessed the robbery lie would havo made short work of me. Having stowed the bag away, he looked under the cart and called me. I pretended not to hear the first time, then woke with a staifc that might have been slightly over-acted, and asked, ‘What the deuce is Hie matter ? ” The gold-robber laughed. ‘Sorry for waking you,’ he said, but you must get the horses in. We’ve all had a good night.’ From the weight of the bag T should say they had. We must get down to town as soon as possible,’ Wilson went on ; ‘ tnere’s a few ounces extra for you if we make good time. “Arrived in Melbourne we left the swags at the old Bull and Mouth Hold,, and Wilson and one of the others took: the drays with the gold down to some house they knew at the foot of Markon street, leaving the others to keep a close eye on me, lest I should give a hint to the police.. Indeed, they rover left me alone for a moment. That night Wilson took us to the old Iron Pot theatie in Queen street which was crowded with diggers down for a spree—who threw nuggets of gold instead of flowers to their favourites. Most of the men got drunk, but Wilson was the master mind ami kept them all under his wing, leit they should brag in their cups. As the beds at the hotel were full, we camped near the cart in the yard, until the schooner by which they were sailing for Tasmania was ready. ‘When the gold is on board, Wilson said, ‘you get your money, and not before.’ While we were taking the swags to the schooner Wilson and two others went to a hut near the Yarra ferry for the gold, which they carried aboard in blankets and stowed away. T was getting rather nervous about my pay, but just before the schooner sailed Wilson called me down into the cabin and paid me. Even amongst the greatest scoundrels on the diggings, there was a certain sense of honour if one acted fairly by them. “If any enquiries are made about us,’ he said, ‘you know nothing. If you will give information to the police I will have scores of friends in Melbourne who will settle with you.’ On returning to the hotel I found a policeman waiting for me. He wished to know what men I had brought down, and whether I kenw of anything that had occurred on the road. I told him I had simply been engaged to carry their swags, which they always handled themselves, and knew nothing of the contents. ‘About the time you pased hrough Sawpit Gully,’ he said, ‘4oooz of gold was stolen from the store there. I’m afraid, though, I’m one the wrong track,’ and he went is way. “It was many years afterwards, when:

I had opened a store in Bourke street, near the Albion Hotel, that my old partner Buller walked into my place one day. He had taken up land on the Murray, was off to Tasmania for a holiday, and just ‘for Auld Lang Syne’ wished me to go with him. I agreed, and on reaching Hobart we put up at one of the best hotels. At dinner we met many or the officers of the Fortieth Regiment, then at Port Arthur. During tanner I noticed that I was being very closely observed by a one-eyed man, evidently the landlord, who was seated at the end of the table. His one eye was ever on me. blinking away, and I suddenly recognised One-eyed Wilson, the gold-robber of Sawpit Gully. He knew it too, for after dinner, while I was in the smokingroom, a servant came to say that the landlord wished to see me privately in his office. He held out his hand as I -went in, and said, ‘Even after so many years I don’t forge old friends. I want to have a chat with you.’ Then over the cigars and coffee he told me the whole story of his life. He and his mates were all ‘old hands’ from Port Arthur, and they went to Forest Creek on a go dstealing raid, and for no other purpose. When he mentioned the robbery at Sawpit Gully, I told him that 1 had sen it all in the moonlight. ‘lt’s a good job none of them knew that,” he said coolly; ‘they would have strangled you to death in a minute—l’m glad tnough no harm came to you.’ He insisted that during our stay Buller and I should be his guests, and the servants could not do too much for us. The man was a strange character—a thief by instinct, yet an agreeable talker and extremely candid as to his past. On returning to Mel bourne I corresponded with him for some time—then suddenly his letters ceased. “Some time after I paid a second visit to Hobart and went to the same hotel. A new landlord was in possession,. and inquiries showed that One-eyed Wilson predatory instincts had brought complete ruin at last. Although comparatively rich and making money, temptation came his way and he could not resist it. Some wealthy diggers stayed at his hotel, and on the first opportunity Wilson robbed them. He was arrested, convicted, ard sent back to penal servitude for life. It was not a long sentence, for soon afterwards he died at Port Arthur. A thief by instinct, training, and appearance, One-eyed Wilson was none the less a genial thief.”