""E"s forgot "is "ankey!"
""Ere, boys, look slippy!--a "ankey for ol" sausage!"
But the German was not sensitive to ridicule. He had something to say, and he was there to say it. Fixing his fish-like eyes on a spot high up the tent wall, he kept them pinned to it, while he mouthed out blood-and-thunder invectives. He was, it seemed, a red-hot revolutionist; a fierce denouncer of British rule. He declared the British monarchy to be an effete inst.i.tution; the fetish of British freedom to have been "exbloded" long ago. What they needed, in this grand young country of theirs, was a "republic"; they must rid themselves of those shackles that had been forged in the days when men were slaves. It was his sound conviction that before many weeks had pa.s.sed, the Union Jack would have been hauled down for ever, and the glorious Southern Cross would wave in its stead, over a free Australia.
The day on which this happened would be a never-to-be-forgotten date in the annals of the country. For what, he would like to know, had the British flag ever done for freedom, at any time in the world"s history?
They should read in their school-books, and there they would learn that wherever a people had risen against their tyrants, the Union Jack had waved, not over them, but over the British troops sent to stamp the rising out.
This was more than Mahony could stomach. Flashing up from his seat, he strove to a.s.sert himself above the hum of agreement that mounted from the foreign contingent, and the doubtful sort of grumble by which the Britisher signifies his disapproval.
"Mr. Chairman! Gentlemen!" he cried in a loud voice. "I call upon those loyal subjects of her Majesty who are present here, to join with me in giving three cheers for the British flag. Hip, hip, hurrah! And, again, hip, hip, hurrah! And, once more, hip, hip, hurrah!"
His compatriots followed him, though flabbily; and he continued to make himself heard above the shouts of "Order!" and the bimming of the chairman"s bell.
"Mr. Chairman! I appeal to you. Are we Britons to sit still and hear our country"s flag reviled?--that flag which has ensured us the very liberty we are enjoying this evening. The gentleman who has been pleased to slander it is not, I believe, a British citizen. Now, I put it to him: is there another country on the face of the earth, that would allow people of all nations to flock into a gold-bearing colony on terms of perfect equality with its own subjects?--to flock in, take all they can get, and then make off with it?" a point of view that elicited forcible grunts of a.s.sent, which held their own against hoots and hisses. Unfortunately the speaker did not stop here, but went on: "Gentlemen! Do not, I implore you, allow yourselves to be led astray by a handful of ungrateful foreigners, who have received nothing but benefits from our Crown. What you need, gentlemen, is not revolution, but reform; not strife and bloodshed, but a liberty consistent with law and order. And this, gentlemen,----"
("You"ll never get "em like that, d.i.c.k," muttered Purdy.)
"Not so much gentlemening, if YOU please!" said a sinister-looking man, who might have been a Vandemonian in his day. "MEN"S what we are--that"s good enough for us."
Mahony was nettled. The foreigners, too, were pressing him.
"Am I then to believe, sir, what I frequently hear a.s.serted, that there are no gentlemen left on the diggings?"
("Oh lor, d.i.c.k!" said Purdy. He was sitting with his elbows on his knees, clutching his cheeks as though he had the toothache.)
"Oh, stow yer blatherskite!"
"Believe what yer b.l.o.o.d.y well like!" retorted the Vandemonian fiercely.
"But don"t come "ere and interrupt our pleasant and h"orderly meetings with YOUR blamed jaw."
Mahony lost his temper. "I not interrupt?--when I see you great hulks of men--"
("Oh, lor!" groaned Purdy again.)
"--who call yourselves British subjects, letting yourselves be led by the nose, like the sheep you are, by a pack of foreigners who are basely accepting this country"s hospital"ty?"
"Here, let me," said Purdy. And pushing his way along the bench he hobbled to the platform, where several arms hoisted him up.
There he stood, fronting the violent commotion that had ensued on his friend"s last words; stood bedraggled, mud-stained, bandaged, his cabbage-tree hat in his hand. And Mahony, still on his feet, angrily erect, thought he understood why the boy had refused to wash himself clean, or to change his dress: he had no doubt foreseen the possibility of some such dramatic appearance.
Purdy waited for the hubbub to die down. As if by chance he had rested his hand on the bell; its provoking tinkle ceased. Now he broke into one of the frank and hearty smiles that never fail to conciliate.
"Brother diggers!"
The strongly spoken words induced an abrupt lull. The audience turned to him, still th.o.r.n.y and sulky it was true, but yet they turned; and one among them demanded a hearing for the youngster.
"Brother diggers! We are met here to-night with a single purpose in view. Brother diggers! We are not met here to throw mud at our dear old country"s flag! Nor will we have a word said against her most gracious Majesty, the Queen. Not us! We"re men first, whose business it is to stand up for a gallant little woman, and diggers with a grievance afterwards. Are you with me, boys?--Very well, then.-- Now we didn"t come here to-night to confab about getting votes, or having a hand in public affairs--much as we want "em both and mean to have "em, when the time comes. No, to-night there"s only one thing that matters to us, and that"s the repeal of the accursed tax!" Here, such a tempest of applause broke out that he was unable to proceed. "Yes, I say it again," he went on, when they would let him speak; "the instant repeal!
When that"s been done, this curse taken off us, then it"ll be time enough to parlez-vous about the colour of the flag we mean to have, and about going shares in the Government. But let me make one thing clear to you. We"re neither traitors to the Crown, nor common rebels. We"re true-blue Britons, who have been goaded to rebellion by one of the vilest pieces of tyranny that ever saw the light. Spies and informers are everywhere about us. Mr. Commissioner Sleuth and his hounds may cry tally-ho every day, if "tis their pleasure to! To put it shortly, boys, we"re living under semi-martial law. To such a state have we free-born men, men who came out but to see the elephant, been reduced, by the asinine stupidity of the Government, by the impudence and knavishness of its officials. Brother diggers! When you leave the hall this evening, look over at the hill on which the Camp stands! What will you see? You will see a blaze of light, and hear the sounds of revelry by night. There, boys, hidden from our mortal view, but visible to our mind"s eye, sit Charley Joe"s minions, carousing at our expense, washing down each mouthful with good fizz bought with our hard-earned gold. Licence-pickings, boys, and tips from new grog-shops, and the blasted farce of the Commissariat! We"re supposed--"
But here Mahony gave a loud click of the tongue--in the general howl of execration it pa.s.sed unheard--and, pushing his way out of the tent, let the flap-door fall to behind him.
Chapter III
He retraced his steps by the safe-conduct of a full moon, which showed up the gaping black mouths of circular shafts and silvered the water that flooded abandoned oblong holes to their brim. Tents and huts stood white and forsaken in the moonlight: their owners were either gathered on Bakery Hill, or had repaired to one of the gambling and dancing saloons that lined the main street. Arrived at the store he set his frantic dog free, and putting a match to his pipe, began to stroll up and down.
He felt annoyed with himself for having helped to swell the crowd of malcontents; and still more for his foolishness in giving the rein to a momentary irritation. As if it mattered a doit what trash these foreigners talked! No thinking person took their bombast seriously; the authorities, with great good sense, let it pa.s.s for what it was--a noisy blowing-off of steam. At heart, the diggers were as sound as good pippins.
A graver consideration was Purdy"s growing fellowship with the rebel faction. The boy was too young and still too much of a fly-by-night to have a black mark set against his name. It would be the more absurd, considering that his sincerity in espousing the diggers" cause was far from proved. He was of a nature to ride tantivy into anything that promised excitement or adventure. With, it must regretfully be admitted, an increasing relish for the limelight, for theatrical effect--see the cunning with which he had made capital out of a bandaged ankle and dirty dress! At this rate, and with his engaging ways, he would soon stand for a little G.o.d to the rough, artless crowd.
No, he must leave the diggings--and Mahony rolled various schemes in his mind. He had it! In the course of the next week or two business would make a journey to Melbourne imperative. Well, he would d.a.m.n the extra expense and take the boy along with him! Purdy was at a loose end, and would no doubt rise like a fish to a fly at the chance of getting to town free of cost. After all, why be hard on him? He was not much over twenty, and, at that age, it was natural enough--especially in a place like this--for a lad to flit like a b.u.t.terfly from every cup that took his restless fancy.
Restless? ... h"m! It was the word Purdy had flung back at him, earlier in the evening. At the time, he had reb.u.t.ted the charge, with a glance at fifteen months spent behind the counter of a store. But there was a modic.u.m of truth in it, none the less. The life one led out here was not calculated to tone down any innate restlessness of temperament: on the contrary, it directly hindered one from becoming fixed and settled.
It was on a par with the houses you lived in--these flimsy tents and draught-riddled cabins you put up with, "for the time being"--was just as much of a makeshift affair as they. Its keynote was change. Fortunes were made, and lost, and made again, before you could say Jack Robinson; whole townships shot up over-night, to be deserted the moment the soil ceased to yield; the people you knew were here to-day, and gone--sold up, burnt out, or dead and buried--to-morrow. And so, whether you would or not, your whole outlook became attuned to the general unrest; you lived in a constant antic.i.p.ation of what was coming next. Well, he could own to the weakness with more justification than most. If trade continued to prosper with him as it did at present, it would be no time before he could sell out and joyfully depart for the old country.
In the meantime, why complain? He had much to be thankful for. To take only a small point: was this not Sat.u.r.day night? To-morrow the store was closed, and a string of congenial occupations offered: from chopping the week"s wood--a clean and wholesome task, which he gladly performed--through the pages of an engrossing book to a botanical ramble round old Buninyong. The thought of it cheered him. He stooped to caress his two cats, which had come out to bear him the mute and pleasant company of their kind.
What a night! The great round silver moon floated serenely through s.p.a.ce, dimming the stars as it made them, and bathing the earth in splendour. It was so light that straight black lines of smoke could be seen mounting from chimneys and open-air fires. The gra.s.s-trees which supplied the fuel for these fires spread a pleasant balsamic odour, and the live red patches contrasted oddly with the pale ardour of the moon.
Lights twinkled over all the township, but were brightest in Main Street, the course of which they followed like a rope of fireflies, and at the Government Camp on the steep western slope, where no doubt, as young Purdy had impudently averred, the officials still sat over the dinner-table. It was very quiet--no grog-shops or saloons-of-entertainment in this neighbourhood, thank goodness!--and the hour was still too early for drunken roisterers to come reeling home. The only sound to be heard was that of a man"s voice singing OFT IN THE STILLY NIGHT, to the yetching accompaniment of a concertina.
Mahony hummed the tune.
But it was growing cold, as the nights were apt to do on this tableland once summer was past. He whistled his dog, and Pompey hurried out with a guilty air from the back of the house, where the old shaft stood that served to hold refuse. Mahony put him on the chain, and was just about to turn in when two figures rounded the corner of a tent and came towards him, pushing their shadows before them on the milk-white ground.
""D evenin", doc," said the shorter of the two, a nuggetty little man who carried his arms curved out from his sides, gorilla-fashion.
"Oh, good evening, Mr. Oc.o.c.k," said Mahony, recognising a neighbour.-- "Why, Tom, that you? Back already, my boy?"--this to a loutish, loose-limbed lad who followed behind.--"You don"t of course come from the meeting?"
"Not me, indeed!" gave back his visitor with gall, and turned his head to spit the juice from a plug. "I"ve got suthin" better to do as to listen to a pack o" jabberin" furriners settin" one another by th"ears."
"Nor you, Tom?" Mahony asked the lad, who stood sheepishly shifting his weight from one leg to the other.
"Nay, nor "im eether," jumped in his father, before he could speak.
"I"ll "ave none o" my boys playin" the fool up there. And that reminds me, doc, young Smith"ll git "imself inter the devil of a mess one o"
these days, if you don"t look after "im a bit better"n you do. I "eard "im spoutin" away as I come past--usin" language about the Gover"ment fit to turn you sick."
Mahony coughed. "He"s but young yet," he said drily. "After all, youth"s youth, sir, and comes but once in a lifetime. And you can"t make lads into wiseacres between sundown and sunrise."
"No, by Gawd, you can"t!" affirmed his companion. "But I think youth"s just a fine name for a sort o" piggish mess What"s the good, one "ud like to know, of gettin" old, and learnin" wisdom, and knowin" the good from the bad, when ev"ry lousy young fathead that"s born inter the world starts out again to muddle through it for "imself, in "is own way. And that things "as got to go on like this, just the same, for ever and ever--why, it makes me fair tired to think of it. My father didn"t "old with youth: "e knocked it out of us by thrashin", just like lyin" and thievin". And it"s the best way, too.-- Wot"s that you say?"
he flounced round on the unoffending Tom. "Nothin"? You was only snifflin", was you? You keep your fly-trap shut, my fine fellow, and make no mousy sounds to me, or it"ll be the worse for you, I can tell you!"
"Come, Mr. Oc.o.c.k, don"t be too hard on the boy."
"Not be "ard on "im? When I"ve got the nasty galoon on me "ands again like this?--Chucks up the good post I git "im in Kilmore, without with your leave or by your leave. Too lonely for "is lordship it was. Missed the sound o" wimmin"s petticoats, "e did." He turned fiercely on his son. ""Ere, don"t you stand starin" there! You get "ome, and fix up for the night. Now then, wot are you dawdlin" for, pig-"ead?"
The boy slunk away. When he had disappeared, his father again took up the challenge of Mahony"s silent disapproval. "I can"t "ardly bear the sight of "im, doc.--disgracin" me as "e "as done. "Im a father, and not eighteen till June! A son o" mine, who can"t see a wench with "er bodice open, but wot "e must be arter "er.... No, sir, no son o" mine!
I"m a respectable man, I am!"
"Of course, of course."