THE TRAGEDY OF SHELLBACK GULLY

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1618, 4 March 1903, Page 6

THE TRAGEDY OF SHELLBACK GULLY

LIFE ON THE WEST COAST GOLDFIELDS IN THE EAHLY SIXTIES.

(By “Ajor.”)

(Written specially for the “N.Z. Mail.”)

CHAPTER I.—THE FREETHINKER. The Freethinker had a religion of his own. Neither Catholic nor Quaker, Mohammedan nor Brahmin, Turk nor Greek, yet he willingly allowed each his creed, and only humbly thanked his Maker, in Atfhose works and mercies he could find nought of damning, and the smiling earth begot him no other thoughts than those of feast and fun and kindly laughter; and when Jack — “Californian Jack” —passed in his checks he left no other creed behind him than that motto carved by his many mates and friends on his tombstone: — “His was the heart that cared for all.” # * 0 Some weeks after pegging out on Shellback, Jack, four others and I, bottomed—on Avater, a lot of it, too—an everlasting flow, in fact; yet we knew the gold was below us, and not much deeper, either. We had been continually baling night and day for eight days with a sixty-gallon claqued hide, only getting up a shovelful or two of dirt per hour. It was Jack’s turn below, and just before knock-off time; the signal to heave up was so long in coming that we on top peering down the shaft yelled out: “Belov/, there! What’s up, Jack?”

“The sun, I expect,” answered the Freethinker.

“Come up, old man; you’ll he drowned!” %

“Don’t fret yourselves. Save your breath; you’ll want it all. Heave up !” roared he a second or two later.

We heaved away for sixty feet, and I never before in my life wound up such a dead weight. When it came into view Jack was standing on the gravel inside the hide; it was full, and Jack was wet from head to foot.

The other shift just then came up, and we three went to our hut near by. Jack had just got on his dry clothes, when one of our outside mates putting his head inside the door, cried: “What is tho matter with the claque, Jack? It won’t work.”

“Won’t work!” replies Jack, filling his pipe. “How’s that?” “We’ve let tho hide down three times an<s it won’t fill,” said New Chum Jimmy.

“Very likely. You’d better go down and see Avhat’s tbe matter,” ansAvered Jack dryly, continuing his occupation. “He’ll get gold, Dick,” grunted he to me after Jimmy had disappeared. “Go on,” replied I, surprisedly. “Yes. No more haling, Dick. I broke through the cement bottom, the water flowed aAvay, and I saAV the Avash before I came up,” muttered Jack, contentedly. When we next knocked off Ave had a large heap of glittering wash, Avhich increasing, gave at the Aveek’s end £BO a man. Ours proved to be the richest claim on Shellback, so that Avhen four months later it had become Avorked out, wo Ixad £I2OO a man.

Jack Avas gone on a certain sAveet creature who used to dispense longsleevers. dogs.nose and cocktails, along with liberal garnishes of smites, at the Casino de Venice, a favourite resort oAA r ned by a jolly old Vandernonian. We diggers used to call Jack’s flame the Princess, because she aaus generally believed on tb© Lead to be a love daughter of the good King of Denmark, and to Avhicih Avas added the unquestionable fact that she had every appearance oi a goodly sprinkling of the purple blood of royalty about her beautiful person. Of course, many others of this AAuld El Dorado of the early sixties, myself among the number, lucky and unlucky, were just as much smitten as Avas Jack, but although she smiled on us all. her sweetest seemed to be always reserved for, Californian Jack; nevertheless like all true loA r ers, Avas not prone to believe it. I might say in those golden days diggers never but rarely paused in jealousy, hope nor fear, consequently m this tenderesse case AvhoeA’er ay as lucky enough to charm the Princess would get her -without ill-Avill from the rest.

After he had got the £I2OO by dint of much persuasion, and threats from me that if he didn’t I intended to seize the opportunity myself, Jack went down and popped the question, in my presence. too, and this is the way he did it: “Dearest goddess” (Jack had got that ojat of the “Last Days of Pompeii,” just then coming out; he is kneeling in the parlour, his right hand over his heart and his earnest blue eves upturned to the blushing divinity daintily holding a tray on which are t\jo foaming pewters), “I pegged ye out the moment I set eyes on yeTand the miner’s right was here” (Jack pats his breast). “If you have no objection to going mates, I believe we’d bottom on gold.” I hurriedly drank my beer and left the two. TYe had a big spree that night on Shellback over the news that

Californian Jack —the most- popular chap on the lead —had bagged the Princess. Happy Jack! poor Jack! c- * »

In Shellback diggings there existed at

this time an individual so like in form and face to Californian Jack that none but their most intimate friends could tell at times which was “Californy” and which was Havit Quick Jack. Californy’s double Avas a man Avho earned, a very large and easy sorb of lHing indeed at painting the houses just then springing up everywhere like mushrooms ; and the lightning-like speed Avhich emphasised his movements'in the exerciso of his art aaus not only the marvel of all who witnessed, but it got him as much Avork as he liked to do, and at his own price, too. Where he got his paint from nobody asked and few cared, for in those halycon days everybody minded their own particular business and paid for everything in golddust. Nevertheless, it Avas frequently remarked that Avhilst others less fortunate in his line had to Avait the arrival of that article for lengthy periods, HaA 7 it Quick had always a full supply of paint on hand. ®lt did come out later that Havit Quick had discoA T ered that SAvipers’ terrace pug and tho* gore of oxen mixed in proper proportions made a very fair house paint, always provided the wet weather did not happen to come on toe soon after the application thereof. Then indeed it Avas Avoe betide the mixture; yet people were making so much money and so easily and quickly that these accidents passed unnoticed, and Havit Quick Avould be engaged again and again, and undismayed at the washing-out of his celebrated mixture, would slap it on till further orders. But I am getting Avide of my tale. There Avas another maid down at the “RainboAv” Avhose charms compared to those of the Princess were frequently hotly disputed; but Avhatever attractions Emma Linden (that Avas her name, afterwards called the Duchess) had that could bring her AA’ithin coo-ee of those rarer ones of the Princess, they must hav-e been simply of an exterior mould, for subsequent events proved that Avhilst the' Casino maid possessed all those rare lineaments of feature and symmetry of form so prized by the male adorer, she also possessed, in large degree, those nobler beauties of the mind and heart in gentleness of the one and of goodness of the other, attributes Avhich make the complete woman. Not so>, liOAvever. RainboAV Linden, aylio Avas cursed with the possession of a cruel, jealous, devil, Avhich flinched at nothing for tho sake of revenge. But for all that she, too, had her hosts of admirers, and among them was Havit Quick, Avho, singular to relate —for he Avas a very ordinary fellow; —secured not only Linden’s sweetest smiles, but also her promise true, and that at the same time our more popular friend Californy Avooed and won the of the day that if the girls didn’t look particularly sharp they might get courting and mooning over the wrong chap. Havit Quick ay as a perfect devil at a practical joke, and he Avas known to have said on more than one occasion that he intended trying it on with the Princess. Our jack Avouldn’t have dreamt of attempting such a disgraceful thing with his counterpart’s divinity at tho-Rainbow. I have already remarked that Havit Quick and Californy were so alike that their friends could Avith difficulty tell t’other from which, and even I, the latter’s hut mate, Avas frequently at fault, and in this particular made sometimes most ridiculous blunders.

One evening I and Rocky Mountain George Avere making our Avay doAvn the lead in the direction of the Merri Club, a notorious gambling saloon kept by one Jabez -Darby, Avho made an honest living by cheating everybody. The night was clear and still, and the moon, at its full, shone high in the heavens. Suddenly avq both halted. “Look! The Princess and Havit Quick Jack, or may I be eternally mummified for the Philadelphia Exhibition,” exclaimed Rocky, grasping my arm and pointing out tAvo figures which, Avhile coming towards ns, had abruptly turned off at right angles to the lead, and were setting their -faces towards the ocean beach, about a mile or so aAvay through tho bush.

“Never, Rocky!” exclaimed I, shaking Avith indignation, and straining my eyes in the direction of the. pair.

“I’ll lay iny shammy and Yankee ’cuteness agin yer dust an’ British disamnieiit it’s them, the’ I wish it warn’t,” breathed my friend, a bit fierce, for w r e both loved the Princess, and had heard with disdain the wretched painter’s threat to* “trot the Princess out,” : v

“Look here. Becky, if I were certain I’d go and wring his blooming neck; for the girl is as innocent as she is good, and we all know she is just now suffering from eye-blight,” reasoned I. Bocky didn’t answer, and chancing to look at him, I saw his eye fixed on another figure. The newcomer was a young woman, and she had also turned down the path taken by the pair, which she was following rapidly, as if anxious to overtake them.

“The Duchess !” we both exclaimed. “There’ll be a row,” growled Bocky

under his breath. “Look, Dick, she's got a shootin’ iron. H 11” and he Avas off at a rapid run, I following, having, too, caught sight of the pistol in. the hands of the Duchess. We had just reached tho corner Avihen the pair suddenly halted, and Avheeled about, as if bent on returning, which movement

naturally brought them face to face with the pursuing Duchess, who stood bolt upright fair in the path. We saw Havit Quick throAv up his left hand, the next instant there Avas a flash, a bang, a shriek. Rocky AA'as upon the Duchess, and snatching tho pistol from her, hurled it aAvay into tho bush.

I ran to the Princess, AVhose piercing shriek had struck home to me like any dagger. She Avas doAvn in a dead faint, and Avhilst I, unmindful of all else, searched for the Avound, I felt my shoulder touched and heard a voice say (it was Rocky’s, only strangely altered): “It’s not her, Dick; look yer.” Relinquishing my charge for one moment, I obeyed, and beheld a figure at my feet. It lay quite still, the only movement Avas a little dark stream. I knew Avliat it Avas, and ‘it Avas issuing from the left breast of tho figure. “Well, poor Havit Quick, I’m sorry for you, although you and your practical jokes have brought it on yourself. They are done for ever,” murmured I sadly, turning back to the stilled Princess. when Rocky’s now strained voice arrested me. “Dick,” muttered he hoarsely, “did aa'q bet?—’cause I’ve lost.” “Why joke uoav,” cried I, irritatedly. “Joke, Dick,” Avhispered he, grinding his teeth. “Look closer at the dead face at your feet,, man,” hissed he, fiercely. Stooping down, I sarv — l saAV, not Havit Quick, hut Californy.

CHAPTER lI.—A HOLIDAY ON SWIPER’S GULLY.

But allow me &o go back some days before the tragedy, firstly to give the patient reader peeps into a Wild West Coast holiday on Swiper’s Gully; secondly, to discover hoAv Emma Linden, the Duchess of Shellback, came to be stalking, revolver armed and iii such ferocity, that lonely bush track all alone in the moonlight. The night before, the diggers of Swiper’s and Shellback had all Avashed sip against the great holiday of the following day, which, breaking fine, the whole township was alive with gay Crimeas, AvideaAvakes and pink sashes, better known as pink’-uns. The Casinos. the saloons and Alhambras, Avhich had overnight resounded with music, dancing and Avild revelry, were now pouring out its not yet half satisfied streams of roysterers, all laughing, good-humoured, generous and chivalrous to a degree. LaAvyers and doctors, artists and noblemen of high degree, Masters of Arts and University professors, runaAAuy Oxonians and Cantabs, men Avho had left their country for their country’s good, and many others who had left beautiful homes to join in the A\dld, mad rush for that coveted yellow metal, for Avhich Swiper’s. Shellback and Poker Flat-s had become so famous. But of the sports doAA-n .at the Cremom Gardens, the impending race betAVeen tho Maori Hen and the Flying Dove was almost the one theme that beautiful morning in that excited golden west so long ago. The girls were to run one hundred yards in costume for £l5O, and the event had been made up the night before in the Casino de Venice by young Lord S- y, now one of England’s leading peers, and Captain now Sir Algernon B L s, and as both of tho young ladies having agreed, and as their popularity and respectability passed unquestioned, gold galore Avas changing hands on thfe coming race alii up and doAvn the toA\mship. There Avas the Mountain. Rat, as game a little ’un as you’j meet this side of the lino, offering his “pannikin” on the Do-v'e. jimmy the Spaniard also was tossing up his 50-onince shammy on the Flying Dove, Avho appeared to be the favourite, and Avas to he run in tights. “I’ll lay my lot on the Dove.” “Who’ll lay against the Dove?” filled the morning air. “And Avhat has the Dove done that ye Avon’t take me up?” also cries Tom the Rook, shaking a handful of nuggets. Up till then none cared to back the poor Maori Hen, but presently out lurched Rocky Mountain George, a great, long, lean, lantern-jawed, drawling, generous - Yankee. “A billyful to a pickhandle on the Maori Hen,” avhooped he.

“Here y’ar, Bocky,” shonted Jimmy the Spaniard, and it was done. Some now fancied one and some another, and whilst the excited gold-diggers are laying the “yellow” on the favourites, we have time, ere the most wonderful event takes place, to pay a visit to the young lady contestants. Just then Mrs Tom Jones has come out, and with smiles informs us favoured few that the Flying Dove having finished dressing, does not object to be interviewed by the young gentlemen, and so we step into Mrs J.’s parlour, where the Dove is just tight-lacing her—pretty shoes. Looking up at our entrance, sh® straightened herself, and then, whilst

we talked of the coming event, wo could not help stealing sly glances at her beautifully rounded proportions, one had the loveliest of ankles, and in form she seemed a perfect female athlete, and safe to win. Wo had just time to catch a glimpse of the Maori Hen, as she skipped by (rather too lively, we thought) in short petticoats, and wnen the two maids toed the scratch ready for tho race, the Flying Hove, taller Iby some inches, a cheer wont up from the throats of 5000 diggers.

Tom Jones, now an English County magnate and on his own estate, as starter, got the girls well away, but in the' first fifty yards the Flying Hove had gained a good lead, yet was the Maori Hen running gamely. At this juncture the back hair of the Flying Hovo came down, which runlcoked-for catastrophe seemed to slacken her speed, for the Maori Hen soon came up and passed her by Jimmy the Spaniard at the 75 yards. “Bravo, Maori Hen, let your wings go,” “Step it out, loveiv Hove,” “The Hove has it,'' "Ao, the ’ Hen,” “All my on the Hove,” “Two to one on tho Hen,” were the cries and counter-cries from the throats of thousands of- Crimeans on logs, stumps, overturned trucks and flume-legs, and every conceivable coign of vantage. Presently the tape is breasted by the panting gins simultaneously, and tho race is given a dead heat. Then, amidst oceans of good humour, it was run over again, and won easily by the Maori Hen, but the girls got £SOO a piece, and have long since been the happy mothers of estimable Britons; and lots of money was wen and lost on that historical event. Amongst tho heavy losers was Havit Quick Jack, and to his rival, Californy, too, wherefore ho went away vowing vengeance, and this is what he did. Overhearing a conversation between myself and Californian Jack, he attempted to take advantage of it, with the following sad results mentioned in tho next chapter.

CHAPTER lII.—THE CHRISTMAS BOX.

Rocky Mountain George and I eyed one another as we steerf in silence on that partly moonlit brush track over the silent, prostrate figures. Presently I asked huskily what he had done with the murderess, whereat he jerking his head along the track, I saw the moonlight stream down on . another stilled figure; it proved to be that of the Duchess, who, evidently overcome by tho terribleness of her deed, had fallen down in a dead faint. Some diggers now arriving on the scene, we conveyed all three up the lead, I following the litter on which the body of the unfortunate Princess lay, and which was being taken to the Casino de Venice, and with the arrival of a medical man I went sadly to the camp. As I nearer my but something made my paces quicken and my blood to boil. A man was seated by my door rasping my £ddle. It was Havit Quick Jack, and gaily singing. actually singing this:—•

“Como to tiie greenwood tree. Come, my Princess, with me; Calm and clear is the night, But not, O my love, so bright As is thy bosom of snow and eyes of light, To me, O my love, O my love.” “Beast,” hissed I, unable to control myself, and struck the fiddle from his hand. He sprang up fiercely and faced me. The next instant we. both fell back, he in surprise, I aghast. “Why, Dick, have you gone crazed 2” demanded die resentfully. “Jack, is it you?” I gasped.

“Jack, is it you?” repeated he, scanning me narrowly; “well, yes, unless you’re in another of your darne.d blunders over that Havit Quick,” continued lie, now laughing merrily, and slapping me heartily on the shoulder. <ft Wake up, man, quick, and tell me what you’ve done "with Bocky’s handkercluef. “Handkerchief ?”

“Handkerchief. Yes, Rocky Mountain George’s handkerchief. I’ve burned the hut upside down, and now I’ll have to go without it.” “Then it was not you that she shot?” “Shot, be d d! What are you getting at, Dick?” asked he, now somewhat seriously. “Just wait a bit, Jack, till I pull myself together. Jacky, give me a drop. Quick, old man. There, I’m all light now.” And then I told him all. He was for off to his Princess, hut he stopped on my warning him that the sight of him might kill her right off. < The rest of my tale is soon told. Bent on carrying out his questionable joke, poor Havit Quick by some unexplained means obtained Rooky’s coloured handkerchief, lent hy that worthy fellow to our friend Califomy, whom he personated with such. disaster to himself. Next morning after thwy tragedy the police repaired to the Rainbow in quest of the terrible Emma but no arrest was made. They had to perform a very different duty. Emma, the fiendishly jealous* lay for ever, locked in that sleep from which mortal never yet awoke. On her dressing table lay a little dark blue bottle marked

chlorodyne; she had swallowed the whole of tho contents hours previous to their breaking into her room. She and Havit Quick wore laid sido by sido in the old cemetery on Shellback, but not to rest there for ever, for many years after tho local authorities deciding to change the site cf this solemn acre, all the bodies were exhumed, and when the grim contractor came to one, the coffin lid camo off, and disclosed Emma Linden perfect- as in life, only her beautiful hair had grown and filled up tho coffin. But whilst he who had known her in life so long ago gazed astounded, tho life-liko spectacle fell to dust, revealing nought but a bony skeleton. The atmosphere had accomplished in a few moments that which death and the after-waste of years had failed to do, the remains of tho onco beautiful'Thut terrible Emma Linden, better known as the Duchess of Shellback.

It was many months after that moonlight tragedy before tho Princess quite .recovered from the shock. I let the curtain fall on the delicious reunion of she and Californian Jack: but does a certain very popular and high Church dignitary remember one bright sunny morning performing a certain ceremony in that newly-built chapel hard by yonder evergreen terrace, in which two bright lives were made one till death them would part? Surely, for it was the largest wedding Shellback ever saw, and also that of Californian Jack and his chaste bride, the Princess, who some hours later bade farewell to Shellback in a. waggon drawn by four great horses literally covered in the wild flowers of the forest, gathered bv hun- . tireds of diggers, who as the bridal party passed, murmured, “God bless them!”