the eureka stockade-第2章
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colonial brutedom and his similars； called； as I then learned； 〃traps〃 and 〃troopers。〃 I left off work； and was unable to do a stroke more that day。
〃I came； then； 16；000 miles in vain to get away from the law of the sword！〃 was my sad reflection。 My sorrow was not mitigated by my mates and neighbours informing me； that Australia was a penal settlement。 Inveterate murderers； audacious burglars； bloodthirsty bushrangers； were the ruling triumvirate； the scour of old Europe； called Vandemonians； in this bullock…drivers' land。 Of course I felt tamed； and felt less angry； at the following search for licence。 At the latter end of the month； one hundred and seventy seven pounds troy； in two superb masses of gold； were discovered at the depth of sixty feet； on the hill opposite where I was working。 The talk was soon Vulcanish through the land。 Canadian Gully was as rich in lumps as other gold…fields are in dust。 Diggers； whom the gold fever had rendered stark blind； so as to desert Ballaarat for Mount Alexander and Bendigo； now returned as ravens to the old spot； and towards the end of February； '53； Canadian Gully was in its full glory。
Chapter IV。
Incipit Lamentatio。
The search for licences； or 〃the traps are out to…day〃their name at the timehappened once a month。 The strong population now on this gold…field had perhaps rendered it necessary twice a month。 Only in October； I recollect they had come out three times。 Yet； 〃the traps are out〃 was annoying； but not exasperating。 Not exasperating； because John Bull； 'ab initio et ante secula'； was born for law； order； and safe money…making on land and sea。 They were annoying； because； said John； not that he likes his money more than his belly； but he hates the bayonet： I mean； of course； he does not want to be bullied with the bayonet。 To this honest grumbling of John； the drunkard； that is the lazy； which make the incapables； joined their cant； and the Vandemonians pulled up with wonted audacity。 In a word； the thirty shillings a month for the gold licence became a nuisance。
A public meeting was announced on Bakery…hill。 It was in November； 1853。 Four hundred diggers were present。 I recollect I heard a 〃Doctor Carr〃 poking about among the heaps of empty bottles all round the Camp； and asked who paid for the good stuff that was in them； and whither was it gone。 Of course； Doctor Carr did not mention； that one of those bottles； corked and sealed with the 〃Crown；〃 was forced open with Mr。 Hetherington's corkscrew； and that said Dr。 Carr had then to confess that the bottle aforesaid contained a nobbler some 250 pounds worth for himself。 Great works already at Toorak。 'Tout cela soit dit en passant。' Mr。 Hetherington； then a storekeeper on the Ballaarat Flat； and now of the Cladendon Hotel； Ballaarat Township； is a living witness。 For the fun of the thing； I spoke a few words which merited me a compliment from the practitioner； who also honoured me with a private precious piece of information〃'Nous allons bientot avoir la Republique Australienne！ Signore。'〃 〃'Quelle farce！ repondis je。'〃 The specimen of man before me impressed me with such a decided opinion of his ability for destroying sugarsticks； that at once I gave him credit as the founder of a republic for babies to suck their thumbs。
In short； here dates the Victorian system of 'memorialising。' The diggers of Ballaarat sympathised with those of Bendigo in their common grievances； and prayed the governor that the gold licence be reduced to thirty shillings a month。 There was further a great waste of yabber…yabber about the diggers not being represented in the Legislative Council； and a deal of fustian was spun against the squatters。 I understood very little of those matters at the time： the shoe had not pinched my toe yet。
Every one returned to his work； some perhaps not very peacefully； on account of a nobbler or two over the usual allowance。
Chapter V。
Risum Teneatis Amici。
I recollect towards this time I followed the mob to Magpie Gully。 It was a digger's life。 Hard work by day； blazing fire in the evening； and sound sleep by night at the music of drunken quarrels all around； far and near。 I had marked my claim in accordance with the run of the ranges； and safe as the Bank of England I bottomed on gold。 No search for licence ever took place。 What's the matter？ Oh； the diggers of Bendigo； by sheer moral force； in the shape of some ten thousand in a mob； had inspired with better sense the red…tape there and somewhere else； so I took out my licence at the reasonable rate of two pounds for three months； my contribution for the support of gold…lace。 So far so good。 I had no fault to find with our governor Joseph Latrobe； Esquire； nor do I believe that the diggers cared about anything else from him。 Was it then his being an esquire that brought his administration into contempt？ The fact is； a clap of 〃The Thunder〃 from Printing House…square boomed on the tympanum of my car。 We diggers got the gracious title of 〃vagabonds；〃 and our massa 〃Joe；〃 for his pains to keep friends with us； was put down 〃an incapable；〃 all for the honour of British rule； of course。
〃Wanted a Governor；〃 was now no longer a dummy in 'The Argus'； but； unhappily； no application was made to the people of Victoria。
Give a dog a bad nameand the old proverb holds good even at the antipodes。 My trampings are now transcribed from my diary。
With the hot winds whirled in the Vandemonian rush to the Ballaarat Flat。 My hole was next to the one which was jumped by the Eureka mob； and where one man was murdered in the row。 At sixty…five feet we got on a blasted log of a gum…tree that had been mouldering there under a curse； since the times of Noah！ The whole flat turned out an imperial shicer。 （You do not sink deep enough； Signore Editor。） Slabs that had cost us some eight pounds a hundred would not fetch； afterwards； one pound。 We left them to sweat freely in the hole； and all the mob got on the fuddle。 My mate and myself thought we had been long enough together； and got asunder for a change。 I was soon on the tramp again。 Bryant's Ranges was the go of the day； and I started thither accordingly。 December； 1853。 Oh； Lord！ what a pack of ragamuffins over that way！ I got acquainted with the German party who found out the Tarrangower den； shaped my hole like a bathing tub； and dropped 〃on it〃 right smart。 Paid two pounds to cart one load down the Loddon； and left two more loads of washing stuff； snug and wet with the sweat of my brow over the hole。 Got twenty…eight pennyweights out of the load。 Went back the third day； brisk and healthy； to cart down the other two loads。 Washing stuff！ gone： hole！ gone： the gully itself！ gone： the whole face of it had been clean shaved。 Never mind； go ahead again。 Got another claim on the surface…hill。 No search for licence： thank God； had none。 Nasty； sneaky； cheeky little things of flies got into my eyes： could see no more； no ways。 Mud water one shilling a bucket！ Got the dysentery； very bad。 Thought； one night； to reef the yards and drop the anchor。 Got on a better tack though。 Promenaded up to the famous Bendigo。 Had no particular objection to Celestials there； but had no particular taste for their tartaric water。 Made up my mind to remember my days of innocence； and turned shepherd。 Fine landscape this run on the Loddon： almost a match for Bella Italia； but there are too many mosquitoes。 Dreamt； one day； I was drinking a tumbler of Loddon wine； and asserted that Providence was the same also in the south。 It was a dream。 The lands lay waste and desolate： not by nature； oh no； by hand of man。 Bathing in these Loddon water…holes； superb。 Tea out of this Loddon water magnificent。 In spite of these horrible hot winds； this water is always fresh and delicious： how kind is Providence！ One night lost the whole blessed lot of my flock。 Myself； the shepherd； did not know； in the name of heavens； which way to turn。 Got among the blacks； the whole Tarrang tribe in corrobory。 Lord； what a rum sight for an old European traveller。 Found natives very humane； though。 My sheep right again； only the wild dogs had given them a good sha
