The Gold Hunters' Adventures Part 152

"And carry off the whiskey?" demanded the men, with rueful looks.

"No, we would leave it for your use."

"Then long life to yez, and it's prayers ye shall have for fresh horses without delay"

Pat's prayers, if indeed he prayed at all, were of but little avail, for the fresh horses did not come along, and we were compelled to remain inactive until near midnight, when we again saddled our animals, and bade our entertainers farewell. When we left, the company was very patriotic, and songs of Ireland's greatness and England's outrages were hooted loud enough to awaken every one within a radius of two miles.

They gave us three cheers when we left, and one of the party, in the excitement, stumbled over the potato pot, and got a dose of hot water on his person that caused him to utter the most frightful cries, which were responded to by shouts of laughter instead of tears of condolement.

"We have accomplished one humane purpose in giving the men the whiskey,"

Mr. Brown said, as we rode in the direction of Ballarat. "The poor horses will get a few hours' extra rest."

"That is more than the women and children can do," I remarked.

"The women can take care of themselves, I'll warrant you, and if a fight occurs, look after their children at the same time. But touch up your horse. We must reach Ballarat by daylight, for I have no doubt that stirring times are occurring there."

The air was quite cool, and the moon sufficiently bright to show us the right road, so that we wasted no time in searching for it. Not a single person did we meet until just before daylight, when our horses suddenly shied, and an examination revealed the cause. Under a tree by the roadside was a team, and the driver fast asleep, snoring most unmusically, while the oxen were quietly chewing their cuds, chained to a wheel of the cart.

"Let us rouse him, and find out the news from Ballarat," Mr. Brown said.

I made no opposition. My friend approached the sleeping man, and touching him lightly on the shoulder, caused him to look up. The fellow rubbed his eyes, and stared wildly at us for a moment, and then began to beg most piteously.

"I haven't got a single thing about me that's worth stealing," he cried.

"If you want my blanket you can have it, but it ain't a very good one."

"I suppose that you take us for bushrangers?" quietly remarked Mr.

Brown.

"I certainly do--ain't you?" asked the man, between hope and fear.

"Not quite so far gone as that. All that we desire of you is news, and that you can soon give us without much sacrifice."

"O, is that all? I thought that somebody had been blowing on me," cried the teamster, considerably relieved.

"How are matters at Ballarat?" I demanded. "Bad as bad can be," replied the stranger promptly. "The devil has taken possession of the miners, and they refuse to pay gold taxes to the government. The latter don't want to yield, and there will be a fight or I'm much mistaken. I don't want to hurry you, but if you want to be counted in, you'd better be moving, or the whole matter will be decided before you arrive."

"I'll bet a wager that you are a Yankee," Mr. Brown remarked, and I thought I detected the man's cuteness before my friend spoke.

"I take the bet," was the prompt reply. "Put the money in my hands."

Mr. Brown's money was not forthcoming, at which the stranger sneered.

"I s'posed that I had picked up a man who wanted a chance to make a few dimes, but you don't seem inclined to come to time. Here's my specie, and there's more where that came from."

"Never mind the wager," I said; "you don't belong to the New England States, I'll take my oath, so you can't catch us in that trap."

"That's so," replied the teamster, with a chuckle; "but what makes you think so?"

"In the first place, you haven't the accent of a genuine Yankee," I replied; "and in the next place, a Yankee would not have exposed a single dollar until he was certain of the company that he was in. Am I right?"

"Hang me if you ain't, stranger," cried the teamster, in a burst of generous enthusiasm. "If you ain't a Yankee, there ain't one in the country."

I pleaded guilty to the charge, and got a warm shake of the hand for my nationality's sake.

"I ain't a Yankee, that's a fact," my new acquaintance said; "but I belong to Yankee land, and that's honor enough, by thunder. I'm an Ohio boy, and just looking round the world to see how it's made afore I settle on dad's farm, and tie up for life. If I can pick up a few dimes afore I go back so much the better, and if I don't it won't break my heart."

We talked with our new acquaintance for near half an hour for the purpose of breathing our horses, and picking up all the news that had transpired during our absence. I gave him some good advice, and informed him that sleeping in his cart while travelling was not the safest plan that he could adopt, and after a few moments' reasoning he seemed to think so himself. We bade him good night, and resumed our journey, and just as day was breaking we drew up our tired horses before the store, which looked unchanged since our absence. All was quiet and still in the neighborhood, but we observed that an unusually large number of police were on duty in the streets, and that many of them were strangers, and eyed us with suspicious looks, as though not certain which party we belonged to.

"I'll hold the horses while you rap Fred up," Mr. Brown said, dismounting.

I was too impatient to see my friend to need a second bidding. I applied my foot to the door, and gave a thundering kick, that made two or three suspicious policemen, who had followed us closely, imagine we were starving for something to eat.

Hardly had I touched the door, when a hoa.r.s.e growl showed me that Rover was still alive and capable of doing active duty. I heard the hound spring from his sleeping place, cross the floor, and throw his solid form against the door with a subdued yell, which, after a moment's snuffing changed from rage to joy. He uttered cry after cry of welcome, yet still Fred did not seem to take the hint. At length I heard him shuffling along the floor in his slippers, and presently he inquired,--

"Who's there?"

"A friend," I replied, disguising my voice as much as possible.

"What is wanting?" he asked.

"A cup of coffee and something to eat," I replied.

"You can get neither here. Go to one of the coffee-houses."

"But suppose we want to trade?" I asked.

"Then come during trading hours," was the brief rejoinder.

"O, don't stand there talking all day, but let us in," cried Mr. Brown, who, like all Englishmen, couldn't bear to joke on an empty stomach.

"Is that you, Jack?" Fred demanded, eagerly.

"Of course it is," cried Mr. Brown, impatiently.

The heavy bar was removed with remarkable rapidity, and the next instant the door was thrown open, and the best friend that I possessed in the world was shaking my hand and patting me on the back, as though I was an infant strangling with lacteal fluid, while Rover circled around us, and made the air vocal with his joyous barks, until anxious to distinguish himself, and perhaps thinking that Mr. Brown was not getting his share of the reception, he suddenly welcomed that gentleman with a slight nip on the seat of his pantaloons, that caused him to utter a fierce oath, and to rub the place with remarkable vigor.

"Come in, come in," cried Fred, "or we shall have all the green police of Ballarat around us, thinking a manifestation is going on. I see three of the fellows peering around corners as though uncertain whether to regard us as madmen or conspirators."

We followed him into the store and closed the door; and while Fred was busy in lighting lamps, for the store was dark inside, he chatted as though his tongue had had a fast for a month, and was now making up for lost time.

"I had near about given you up for dead, and next week should have left the store in charge of Smith and started in search of you. What detained you so long, and couldn't you send me a few words?"

Then, not waiting for us to answer, he continued:--

"I began to think that you had fallen victims to the bushrangers, for they are very bold lately, and more than one gang has ventured near the city with impunity, while the troubles are continuing. The commissioner has been asked to despatch a force against them, but he has declined, on the ground that he can't spare the men."

"Then troubles continue to exist?" I asked.

"Never more serious than at present; and I expect that open war will be declared every day. The miners have flatly refused to pay their thirty shillings per month for mining, and government insists that they shall.

Neither party feel like retreating from its position, although I candidly believe that if a good man was at the head of affairs this difficulty would be settled in twenty-four hours, and in a way satisfactory to the government and the miners."