CHAPTER IV.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XXVI, Issue 31, 8 December 1898, Page 13

CHAPTER IV.

It was a pleasant country : a swelling plain, lightly clad with gum-trees and caught in the arms of low ranges of hills that straggled out to right and left like an irregular crcecent. The goldfields were far into the foot of the crr-scent of hills : shallow -inking in ' spowy ' ground. The doctor, the BouchaH. Pet-, and a Oorkman named Lane, ' went mates ' in a four-man claim. Next daj . and for many days, a rising tide of humanity invaded the flat and swept up the <rullie<* all around— with carts, horses, wheelbarrows

cradles, tents, drays, waggons, and tent stores, and grog-«hanties, till some tens of thousands of men were gathered at last ' on ' Ararat, and were ripping up the bowels of the earth, and covering it with patches of eruptic grey and yellow dirt. It was a busy scene. The men wrought hard and talked little. But the human tide carried with it the flotsam and jetsam of a hundre 1 prisons. From time to time men were garrotted by night, gold was robbed, store and other tents were slit open and plundered. Shouts were raised and shots

rang out in the darkness ; there were hasty rashes of half -dressed men hither and thither, hut no thieves were caught. One morning Frank Blake found old Maitland's tent, adjoining his own, slit open to the ground with the slash of a knife. He peeped through thereat, then beckoned to his companions. They came. Others followed. The earth beneath Maitland's bunk had been disturbed. His hoarded gold was gone. Maitland himself lay upon his bunk, cold and rigid in death. Examination by Frank and another physiciandigger revealed nothing beyond livid marks of powerful fingers upon the dead man's mouth and throat, and a thin, purplish wound, one inch and a quarter long, over the heart. A small, shallow, incised wound — a quarter of an inch long — lay in the middle of the first, and at right angles with it, thus l The knife- wound (for such it was assumed to be) had penetrated the heart. A proemsverbal was drawn up, signed, and read to the minars outside the tent where Maitland's lifeless body lay. Feeling against convicts and gold-thievea rose and tossed like a spring-tide. Men went out next morning— and for many a morning afterwards — for revolverpractice at sheets of paper set as targets on trees up the hill-slope. Maitland's funeral was a mighty one. The dead body was wrapped in apiece of new tarpaulin, stowed away in a coffin made of brandycaaes, carted ofiE in a dray, and buried under the shade of a gum-tree on the flat. The last spade-stroke had smoothed the yellow earth over Maitland's grave. A hush followed. It was broken by a wild cry : ' Down with the lags and gold-thieves 1 ' A roar of voices rose like a storm : ' Down with 'em 1 Hang 'em ! Shoot 'em I ' eto. On. the outskirts of the crowd a dropping fire of revolver bullets smote the harmless air and fell with a dry clatter among the crisp gum-leaves. A heavy-bearded miner mounted the cart that had been Miitlan-i's hearse. ' Fools ! ' said he. ' keep your triggers quiet till you get the right men in front of the muzzles.' Then he told of a New South Wales mining town, where the gold-thief got a hundred yards' start, and — well, there was a chase, and a yapyapping of revolvers, and a bleeding corpse and a shallow grave. Thank God, those times are past. Other speakers followed. A vigilance cotnmifctee-in-chief was formed. Frank was appointed a member. The miners returned to their claims, satisfied that something had been done at last to trap the human rats that infested the field. Fifteen minutes later there was an outcry on Oliver's Gully. Several shots were fired. Then silence. A rush of breathless miners to the spot Maitland's murderer ? First blood of the goldthieves ? No. The Oliver's G-ully men had all been at Maitland's funeral. They had forgotten to place a guard over their tents. The gold-thieves had not forgotten. That was all. They had rifled every tent there in the broad noon-day. Pete had watched over his party's two tents, farther down, on the line of the main lead. They had prospered at last. About £1000 worth of gold per man waa stowed away beneath their bunks awaiting the arrival of the first gold-escort. But the gold-escort showed no signs of coming. There came one hot afternoon in March. Frank was at his windlass, Pete below. Close by was another shaft sunk on the the same shallow claim. The Bouchail stood by the windlass there. Lane was below. The Bouchail had just brought a bucket of wash 'to earth.' A loud stage-whisper suddenly swept the space between the two windlasses. ' Quick ! For God's sake come here ! ' Frank rushed over. Several large nuggets and dozens of smaller one 3 lay in the wash-dirt. The action was noticed. Dozens of miners were on the spot. In a few minutes they had pegged oat every inch of unoccupied ground around the four-man claim. The nuggets had come from a pocket, or, rather, a series of little pockets, which in a lew hours yielded gold to the value of several thousands of pounds. Frank Blake's heart was still going pit-a-pat when the party was sitting in front of his tent as the evening sun was low. The Bouchail and Lane talked volubly— Lane had been dropping into intemperate habits of late, despite Frank's fatherly warnings and entreaties. Pete remained as cool and unexcited as a door-mat. ' Just lost yer head, Bouchail,' said he. ' You brought a orowd round. My own face ain't 'xactly a Venus or a prima-donna, but there was uglier in that crowd — I mean uglier in a way. An ' ole Maitland's tent was next to ours.' • I thried me livin' life-blood best to be as quite as a bag o' whate,' the Bouckail pleaded. ' But, man alive, when I see i them nuggets lyin' there like praties in the ground or eggs in a basket, or — or gingerbread at a fair — whoo 1 Me sowl gey one thump agen the roof o' me head, an' I thought ifc'd got out altogether if I didn't lep and dance and shout " Hurroo for Slieve-na-mon an' the blessed blue sky over it ! " But I didn't hurroo. Now did I, Pete ? Not a bit o' me ! I only whispered like this : " Docther asthore, for God's sake come here ! " What was a poor fella to do ? ' Pete stood up. ' I'll show you what to do,' said he. He went into the tent occupied by himself and Frank. The others followed. He lighted a slush-lamp, burrowed a while in his bunk, and brought a miner'B dish. It was very heavy — nearly filled with nuggets of water-worn gold of all sizes and shapes. A loud ' 0 — o — oh ! ' and 1 glory be to Goodness t ' burst through the Bouchail's lips. ' There

you are again,' said Pete, peevishly. ' You'll bring the camp about us again.' The Bouehail's tongue became silent, but the venue of the excitement was transferred from his head to his legs, and he and Lane executed a droll pas des deux on the narrow floor of the tent. That night they drew their tents close together and near their claim. They lighted a slush lamp in a perforated tin ease over the windlass, and looked to their weapons. Each watched two hours in turn. No gold-thieves came. One night, Shanley's tent-store, close at hand, was plundered by the simple expedient of slitting the canvas from floor to ceiling with a knife. Shanley had been knocked senseless as a preliminary. The Blake party thereupon decided to divide their gold in equal shares. Each man was to ' plant ' his gold as he thought best. Scales were procured, the gold was scooped up blindly in a pannikin, weighed out pound by pound, and distributed in rotation. The following night, as they were preparing for rest, Pete passed a nugget to Frank. It was the largest nugget in the ' find,' and had fallen to Pete by right of rotation. The gleam of the slush-light fell upon it. Its oval surface was polished smooth. On it was engraved an exquisite imitation of ancient Irish interlaced ornament — such aa one may see in the wondrous Book of Kells in the Trinity College Library, Dublin. It terminated in a pair of doves' heads. Inside the outer oval border was a smaller transverse pattern in pure line interlaced. ' How did you do it 1 ' Frank queried. Pete drew a knife out of his pocket, and opened its four blades one after another. Their points were shaped graver-fashion by a file. Frank wondered that the hands which had done such delicate work should be stained by the blood of a fellow-man. He handed the nugget back. ' That's a gift,' said Pete The doctor was touched. But, ' old mate,' said he, ' I could not accept.' ' You're only the trustee,' Pete persisted. ' Read the inscription.' Frank held the nugget up to the light again. The thin interlaced lines in the middle of the oval shaped themselves, in Irish characters, into the words : 'To Rose.' There was an awkward pause. Then the doctor said in an altered tone : ' When — that is, how — did you come to know — her ? ' Then he suddenly remembered the day when the escort officer (afterwards shot dead by Captain Starlight's gang of bushrangers) sent his mock compliments to Madamoiselle Rose, in Pete's hearing. He handed the nugget over again with a piqued air. Pete closed his hands behind his back. There was tragedy in his voice, and — as when deeply moved — he forg t for the moment his miner-convict slang. ' Oh, no, no ! ' he exclaimed. ' For God's sake — . It's for her, her, mind. She's got nothing against me. She doesn't know me — nor what I am. And it's honest gold — honest, even if it did come from a convict's hand. What's it to me f I owe her every grain of my whole share. Through her you're here ; and mate — doctor, I mean (pardon me), do you think it's for nothing that I've seen you praying night and morning, and — and being a thorough-going Christian in a place where gold and brandy are twin-gods? No, no. You've made me feel that, if I'm a convict, I'm not all a brute, and that there's a God in Heaven, and the ghost of a man warming to life somewhere in me. There : take it back. There — there. For God's sake, man I Let it go to her — from you, not from me.' 'No. The gift will be yours— yours. I'm deeply — ' Something rose in his throat and strangled the coming word. The two men looked full-square into each other's eyes. Then they shook hands : a long, warm clasp. No further word was spoken. In half an hour they were fast asleep. The doctor woke with a savage grip upon his throat. Before he could rally his senses he was dragged from his bunk through a knife-slit in his tent, gagged, and held securely by three men. The slush-lamp over their claim was out. Their guard was invisible, for the night was cloudy and the darkness inky. There was the sound of a shovel in the gravel floor of his tent, just where his treasure lay. He struggled to free himself. The next instant he felt the cool point of a knife against his throat. A voice whispered in his ear : ' Remember old Maitland ! If you move you're a dead man. That's all.' Then a sudden rush and a scuffle. The heavysleeping Pete was on the scene. Two struggling figures fell pellmell over Frank and his captors. He was up in an instant, using limbs and voice to the best advantage. The camp was awaked ; lights appeared ; revolver-shots and cries resounded here and there ; men rushed with scanty clothing to the spot ; and the night patrol of the vigilance committee appeared. The gold-thieves were not captured. As usual, they had mingled with the crowd, which soon dispersed. Lane was the night-watch. He was found near Mb tent, bound, gagged, stunned, and bleeding freely from a wound in the head. Pete returned, partially dressed, long after the crowd had disappeared. He bore abundant evidences of a hard struggle, but said nothing. The ornamented nugget had disappeared with a portion of Frank's clothing. The rest of the treasure was untouohed, although Frank's portion had been disturbed by the

plunderers' spade, which left a deeply indented mark in the side of the tin vessel that contained it. Next morning there was a fine buzz in camp. A gang of plunderers had taken advantage of the noise and bustle around Frank Blake's claim, and had relieved several miners of their hardwon savings. Two of the thieves were captured in flagrant i and handed over to the night patrol of the vigilance oommittee— both a good deal the wor«e for the encounter ; one of them with a bullet somewhere in his shoulders. The greater part of the mining community turned out and sat around to witness the trial Lawyer-miner Halliwell presided with considerable dignity on the stump of a tree. The evidence was direct. No case for the prisoners. Sentence : Two dozen lashes each and banishment from the gold-fields within twenty-four hours, on pain of death. At the doctor's request the sentence of flogging on the wounded man was commuted. The other was ' spread-eagled' to a gum-tree and about to receive his punishment when a movement was noticed in a portion of the crowd to tbe right. A score of men tried to break

through the ring of sitting men. Plainly an attempt at rescue. Frank's revolver was out in an instant, levelled, and tired towards the gang. In the moment's stillness that followed the report his voice rang out : ' I have fired that shot over your headb. The next will be into them.' The last syllable had scarcely left his lips when a hundred revolvers were pointed at the gang of rescuers. They were surrounded, disarmed, and placed under surveillance in the open ■-pace which stood for the body of the 'court.' The gold-thief received his twenty-four lashes — two from each of the members of the vigilance committee. He and his companion were then sent adrift amidst yells and jeers and a fusillade of clods and stone*. Silence was then proclaimed, and lawyer-miner Halliwell inquired : 'Is there any charge against the batch of prisoners, or any one of them 1 ' Pete stepped into the ring. He laid his hand on a tall, muscular fellow among the prisoners — Denton, the keeper of a grog and boxing shanty, the ex-wrestler-pugilist of the Ballarat music-hall. 'This man,' said Pete, 'stole gold b'longin' to the BLke Claim last night.' Frank vacated his seat on the committee, and, after a word with Pete, disappeared. ' The evidence ?' queried Halliwell. 'Send four o' the committee with me to 'is tent. They'll find the evidence there.' A great crowd of the miners went with them The committee men returned half-an-hour later with a great quantity of gold which had been unearthed in Denton's tent. By this time Frank had returned, bearing an empty tin case. The case for the prosecution opened. He and Pete picked out and identified a nugget. It was Pete's gift to Rose, and had been found buried with the other gold in Denton's tent. A t-pide was next produced Its ashen handle bore the name, 'A. Denton,' rudely carved. There was a gap in its edge, thu3 — w — It corresponded exactly with the indented mark (—( — — ) on the tin ease (produced) which had contained Frank's hidden gold. A ' loud " mother-of. pearl button, with a piece of blue serge attached, was next produced by Pete. Denton looked hastily at his serge shirt and paled. Oaly one man on the diggings wore such buttons. That man was Denton. And one of them had disappeared from his shirt. Asi ries Of questions elicited the following evidence from Pete. He gave his name as merely Pete, jerked out his words, was pale t>nd excited, and paused often. He deposed that he had been awakened the previous night by the noise of a spade in the gravel under the doctor'b bunk. The

wind was blowing in through a gash in the side of the tent. Outside tbere was a scuffling noite. Witness sprang through the slit and come in contact with a man. They locked, struggled, wrestled for a time. Then witness waß thrown. When he was down his assailant — well, struck him (laughter). Witness had been an expert wrestler, but had been thrown by the man Denton at Ballarat. The grip was a peculiar one. (Pete here deccribtd it) It was the self -same grip that had thrown him on the previous night. In the i-truggle he had torn a button off his antagonist's shirt. It was the button produced. The pold-thieves had got clean away in the pitch darkness. Witness went by the shortest cut to Der.ton's tent ; lay near it for a while. After a few minutes four men came up and entered tl.e tent. Poon afterwards there was a noise of digging in the corner where the committte hid found the gold. No ; there was no light in the tent. This ended the case for the prosecution. Pete sat down on a log. Big drops of perspiration stood on his face, merged, broke, formed little rivulets, and chased each other in zig-zag lines down his face. There was a chorus of cheers and yells. I The miners were satisfied : the rats were getting trapped at last. During the evidence for the prosecution Frank noticed a prisoner, whose face he thought he recognised, in earnest conversation with Denton. Evidence for the defence was called. There was little to say. 'Twas a put up job, Denton maintained, s'welp 'im Gawd. There was no evidence agen 'im but that 'ere man. ' An' that man ' (pointing to Pete) ' mates an' gentlemen of the committee, that man's a lag, [raiting his voice] a LAG I Look at 'is legs. Chain marks on 'em. Look at 'is back, the cat's probably on it. Look at 'is face — that's 'is character. That's the man wot put up this yer job. Is this British fair-play 1 Is this wot these 'ere diggin's acornin' to ? — a lag to put away a honest man wot never done no 'arm to nobody ?' Then at length Frank recognised in Denton's confederate the Johnson (or Jackson) who had caused the scene on Burragcng Creek. The appeal was a cunning one. The feeling against convicts was, if possible, stronger on the Ararat than on the Ballarat goldfields. The blow had apparently gone home. Pete looked like a man who had received a knock-out blow. He muttered in a feeble, almost inaudible undertone : ' I'm a lag. Yes, mates, I'm a lag.' Frank put his hand over the convict's mouth. Then he rose. ' Gentlemen,' he began — . There was a dull sound beside him. He looked. Pete was at his I eet, insensible. Frank caught him up. Some of the miners found the marks of the leg-irons. Word passed quickly round, and a flood of hot feeling rose in their hearts against Pete. Some of its rills rippled over the doctor, who was accused of harbouring the very class which, as a member of the vigilance committee, it was his duty to exclude from the field. Pete lay still for a time. Then he raved and tugged at his side. The doctor noticed fresh stains of blood on his hands. It was dripping fast from his blue serge shirt. There was a deep incised wound in the convict's chest. It had been roughly staunched with rude bandages, but was torn open again by the convict in his delirium. A crowd gathered and surged around ' Buuchail,' said the doctor, ' to the tent for my surgical case ; ai d, mates, fresh water, clean cloths, towels, anything. Call Dr. Morton ; and for God's sake, mates, air, more air ! Give the man a chance. After all, a dying comict is a dying man.' A tent was offered. Pete was lifted gently into it The w oucd was examined. Frank suddenly appeared at the tent-door. ' Horton, Burke, Gla,-.h — you members of the Committee — keep a grip on Denton and his crew. Look sharp ! He'll swing for something more than this yet. He's old Maitland's murderer.' But Denton had disappeared. ' Vamoosed ' was the word used by an old Forty-niner that stood by. ' Maitland's murderer ! ' The words were fired from lip to lip till the syllables seemed to burn. There arose a hoarse cry : ' There they go ! ' All eyes were turned to where, two hundred yards away, four figures were making at top fpeed for the thick scrub w hich lay to the east of the camp. A score of miners, armed with revolvers, \ient and stood guard over the few prisoners that still remained. Others raised a hue-and-cry and rushed off like a pack of hounds after the fugitives — the majority on foot, a dozen or so on cart or whim horses, that made a greater display of ribs and timbers than of speed, for the summer was dry, and grass scarce, and horse-feed over £60 a ton. The cavalry started revolver practice at a hundred yards off. The fugitives suddenly divided, as if at the word of command. But Denton's company was most sought after by the diggers They headed after him. It was a hopeless chase. He dipped into the thick growth of bush and was lost to view. Pursuit was given over. Then the Bouchail's voice rang out : ' The fool's going slap-bang into Doppel's ground, and, faix, there's three parties working there. Yell, boys, and fire — fire like thunder ! ' Doppel's party were on the watch. There was an answering volley of revol\er-shota. When the pursuers penetrated two hundred yards of bush they found Denton securely bound, his head tied up in a bundle and

bleeding freely. He was escorted back to camp by six of the committee, who had great difficulty in preventing him being lynched by ' the boye.' — The vigilance committee sat agxin. Denton was searched. A twelve-inoh bowie-knife was found upon him — a murderous weapon, with a peculiar spring guard which lay in a groove along the handle until required for action, when, by pressing a knob, it flew out at right angles to the blade. The knife was handed over to the doctors. The deep gash in Pete's chest had just missed penetrating his left lung. But there was a peculiarity in the wound. At right angles to the main stab (one inch and a quarter long) there was a smaller one about a quarter of an inch deep. The wound looked like this : The long wound wab undoubtedly caused by the blade of Denton's knife, the smaller one by the sharp chisel-edged end of the spring guard when lying along the handle, and used too hurriedly to allow the assailant time to press the knob and set it erect. It was precisely such a wound that had cut adrift the soul and body of old Maitland. The proces-virbal of the first victim of the Ararat gold- fields was produced and laid before the committee. The measurements, etc., of the wounds corresponded exactly with those on the body of Pete. Denton was several times within an inch of being lynched. He was chained to a tree and guarded night and day by the vigilance committee. A week later he was sent to Melbourne with the first gold-escort. His fate / You're really very curious. But I may anticipate the course of my tedious story by telling you that he expiated his crime upon the gallows. One of his Ararat companions, who had in the in c a n ti m c been brought up on a charge of housebreak ing in Melbourne, turntd Queen's evidence and rounded off the story of his guilt. Long before that the gold found in Denton's tent had been distributed pro rata by the vigilance committee among those who proved that they had lost their hardwon wealth at the hands of the goldthievea.

Frank and his party went touth with the same escort that brought Denton to Melbourne. They were, with others, to act as witnesses for the Crown. By that time Lane had recovered. Pete was ' feeling the ground again,' though weak and sickly. The night before their departure the doctor's party sat silently over their damper and tea. At the close of the meal Frank marked a cross on his spade, pick and miner's dish. ' This is my last night gold-digging. I've ranged from " rank duffers "to " jeweller*' shops." There was want in the " duffer," there's the assassin's knife in the golden pocket, and sickness of heart over it all. For my part, God has given me as much wealth as it's good for most men to have. I'll not tempt Providence by seeking more. Honestly, Ini sick of it all.' The Bouchail's ambition was to set ey«.s on blieve-na-uion— he is a small and independent landowner there to this day. That night, when the others were gone from the tent, Frank said gently to Pete, ' You'll come with me — home ? ' Pete sent the smoke-wreaths curling faster. 'It cm never be,' said he, after a pau»e. He was moved and his grammar came back. ' The marks of Cain are on me— you know. No, I guess I'll work| work, work— something to keep my mind quiet when it cries out like a babe, wailing and puling for the world I've lost and never can get again. No, I carry my little world around me. It's a poisoned one— a double-concentrated dose of strychnine in it, if there's such a thing. No, I won't poison your life too— and hers. I'm merely a lag— a gilded lag ; but time will wear the gilding off.

I'll tramp the world, and then die .by the fence-side. . . . There'll be no "sorrowing relatives" and no frienda after me to " hear of something 1 to their advantage." ' Next morning the Blake claim was sold, and Frank's party were off to Melbourne. Lane stayed there and spent his substance in senseless prodigality. He learned, to his cost, to play at ninepins with bottles of champagne— the man who broke fewest to pay for all. Lane was not an expert, so he was generally in a minority at the foolish game. On reaching Melbourne Frank took the shortcut cut to the General Post Office. He had received no correspondence in Ararat. A small bundle of letters and newspapers awaited him. He was hastily tearing open the envelope of one of his bt-uothed'b letters when he heard close by a well-remembered voice that brought his heart to his lips. It was the voice of Rose Fallon. And— his eyes swam !— there was she, or her wraith or ghost walking along the rough pathway of Bourke street with Mr. Harley-Smith and a tall, angular, anaemic girl that Frank recognised with difficulty as Harley-Smith's daughter. Frank stared at them with eyes agape and speechless tongue. Rose glanced lightly at j him and passed on. For the moment he was cut to the heart, but he soon bethought him .that even Scotland Yard would fail to recognise him under the cunning disguise that a scorching sun, hard toil, rough fare, a bushy beard, and a miner's ' other suit' had thrown around him. He followed the party. They were staying at the principal hotel. It waa a ' teary,' if a joyous, meeting between Frank and his prospective bride. There was a rapid crossfire of questions all round. The tale was Foon told, chiefly by Mrs. Har-ley-Smith. Her daughter, poor Lisa, the only child they had now left, was very low in health. She had been ordered a long sea-voyage. They had landed only the previous day, and were on their way to spend some time in the Western District of Victoria, where her brother, Captain Edwardes,owned the large sheep and cattle station of Karimba. i