From Squire to Squatter: A Tale of the Old Land and the New
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likethe face of a skeleton with some parchment drawn tight over it, hishollow eyes glittered like wildfire, his lips were dry and drawn, hisvoice husky.
"He pointed at us with his shining fingers, and uttered a low cry likesome beast in pain; then, in a horrid whisper, he got out these words:
"`Give me drink, drink, I'm burning.'
"I've seen many a sight, but never such a one as that, Archie. Wecarried him back. Yes, we did let him have a mouthful. What matteredit. Next day he was in a shallow grave. I suppose the dingoes had him.They had most of those that died.
"Well, by-and-by things got better with Harry and me; our claim began toyield, we got dust and nuggets. We said nothing to anybody. We built abetter sort of shanty, and laid out a morsel of garden, we fished andhunted, and soon learned to live better than we'd done before, and as wewere making a bit of money we were as happy as sandboys.
"No, we didn't keep away from the hotel--they soon got one up--itwouldn't have done not to be free and easy. But we knew exactly what todo when we did go there. We could spin our bits o' yarns, and smoke ourpipes, without losing our heads. Sometimes shindies got up though, andrevolvers were used freely enough, but as a rule it was pretty quiet."
"Only once, when that little fellow told you to `bail up.'"
"What was that, Harry?" asked Archie.
"Nothing much," said Bob shyly.
"He caught him short round the waist, Johnnie, and smashed everything onthe counter with him, then flung him straight and clear through thedoorway. When he had finished he quietly asked what was to pay, and Bobwas a favourite after that. I reckon no one ever thought of challenginghim again."
"Where did you keep your gold?"
"We hid it in the earth in the tent. There was a black fellow came tolook after us every day. We kept him well in his place, for we nevercould trust him; and it was a good thing we did, as I'm going to tellyou.
"We had been, maybe, a year and a half in the gully, and had gottogether a gay bit o' swag, when our claim gave out all at once as'twere--some shift o' the ground or lode. Had we had machinery we mighthave made a round fortune, but there was no use crying about it. Wequietly determined to make tracks. We had sent some away to Brisbanealready--that we knew was safe, but we had a good bit more to take aboutus. However, we wouldn't have to walk all the way back, for though theplace was half-deserted, there were horses to be had, and farther alongwe'd manage to get drags.
"Two of the worst hats about the place were a man called Vance, and akind of broken-down surgeon of the name of Williams. They lived bytheir wits, and the wonder is they hadn't been hanged long ago.
"It was about three nights before we started, and we were coming home upthe gully. The moon was shining as bright as ever I'd seen it. The dewwas falling too, and we weren't sorry when we got inside. Our tamedingo came to meet us. He had been a pup that we found in the bush andbrought up by hand, and a more faithful fellow never lived. We lit ourfat-lamp and sat down to talk, and a good hour, or maybe more, went by.Then we lay down, for there was lots to be done in the morning.
"There was a little hole in the hut at one end where Wango, as we calledthe wild dog, could crawl through; and just as we were dozing off Iheard a slight noise, and opened my eyes enough to see poor Wangocreeping out. We felt sure he wouldn't go far, and would rush in andalarm us if there were the slightest danger. So in a minute more I wassleeping as soundly as only a miner can sleep, Archie. How long I mayhave slept, or how late or early it was, I couldn't say, but I awoke allat once with a start. There was a man in the hut. Next minute a shotwas fired. I fell back, and don't remember any more. Harry there willtell you the rest."
"It was the shot that wakened me, Archie, but I felt stupid. I gropedround for my revolver, and couldn't find it. Then, Johnnie, I just letthem have it Tom Sayers's fashion--like I did you in the wood, if youremember."
"There were two of them?"
"Ay, Vance and the doctor. I could see their faces by the light oftheir firing. They didn't aim well the first time, Johnnie, so Isettled them. I threw the doctor over my head. His nut must have comeagainst something hard, because it stilled him. I got the door openedand had my other man out. Ha! ha! It strikes me, Johnnie, that I musthave wanted some exercise, for I never punished a bloke before as Ipunished that Vance. He had no more strength in him than a bandicoot bythe time I was quite done with him, and looked as limp all over and justas lively as 'alf a pound of London tripe.
"I just went to the bluff-top after that, and coo-eed for help, andthree or four right good friends were with us in as many minutes,Johnnie.
"We thought Bob was dead, but he soon spoke up and told us he wasn't,and didn't mean to die.
"Our chums would have lynched the ruffians that night. The black fellowwas foremost among those that wanted to. But I didn't like that, nomore did Bob. They were put in a tent, tied hand and foot, and ourblack fellow made sentry over them. Next day they were all gone. Thenwe knew it was a put-up job. Poor old Wango was found with his throatcut. The black fellow had enticed him out and taken him off, then theothers had gone for us."
"But our swag was safe," said Bob, "though I lay ill for months after.And now it was Harry's turn to nurse; and I can tell you, Archie, thatmy dear, old dead-and-gone mother couldn't have been kinder to me thanhe was. A whole party of us took the road back east, and many is thepleasant evening we spent around our camp fire.
"We got safe to Brisbane, and we got safe here; but somehow we're a kindo' sick of mining."
"Ever hear more of your assailants?" asked Archie.
"What, the chaps who tried to bail us up? Yes. We did hear they'dtaken to bush-ranging, and are likely to come to grief at that."
"Well, Bob Cooper, I think you've told your story pretty tidily, withHarry's assistance; and I don't wonder now that you've only got onepurse between you."
"Ah!" said Bob, "it would take weeks to tell you one half of ouradventures. We may tell you some more when we're all together in theBush doing a bit of farming."
"All together?"
"To be sure! D'ye reckon we'll leave you here, now we've found you?We'll have one purse between three."
"Indeed, Bob, we will not. If I go to the Bush--and now I've half amind to--I'll work like a New Hollander."
"Bravo! You're a chip o' the old block. Well, we can arrange that.We'll hire you. Will that do, my proud young son of a proud old sire?"
"Yes; you can hire me."
"Well, we'll pay so much for your hands, and so much for your head andbrains."
Archie laughed.
"And," continued Bob, "I'm sure that Sarah will do the very best for thethree of us."
"Sarah! Why, what do you mean, Bob?"
"Only this, lad: Sarah has promised to become my little wife."
The girl had just entered.
"Haven't you, Sarah?"
"Hain't I what?"
"Promised to marry me."
"Well, Mister Archie Broadbent, now I comes to think on't, I believes I'ave. You know, mister, you wouldn't never 'ave married me."
"No, Sarah."
"Well, and I'm perfectly sick o' toilin' up and down these stairs.That's 'ow it is, sir."
"Well, Sarah," said Archie, "bring us some more nice tea, and I'llforgive you for this once, but you mustn't do it any more."
It was late ere Bob and Harry went away. Archie lay back at once, andwhen, a few minutes after, the ex-policeman's wife came in to see how hewas, she found him sound and fast.
Archie was back again at Burley Old Farm, that is why he smiled in hisdreams.
"So I'm going to be a hired man in the bush," he said to himself nextmorning. "That's a turn in the kaleidoscope of fortune."
However, as the reader will see, it did not quite come to this withArchie Broadbent.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN.
A MINER'S MARRIAGE.
It was the cool season in Sydney. In other words, it was winter justcommencing; so,
what with balmy air and beauty everywhere around, nowonder Archie soon got well. He had the kindest treatment too, and hehad youth and hope.
He could now write home to his parents and Elsie a long, cheerful letterwithout any twinge of conscience. He was going to begin work soon indownright earnest, and get straight away from city life, and all itsallurements; he wondered, he said, it had not occurred to him to do thisbefore, only it was not too late to mend even yet. He hated city lifenow quite as much as he had previously loved it,