RECOVERY OF THE GOLD.--ARRIVAL AT BALLARAT.
"Lead us to the spot where you have secreted our gold," we cried, with
one accord.
"There's time enough," replied the old man; "I tell you that it is safe,
and where I can get it any time. What more would you have?"
"We would have the assurance that we possess it, so that we can reward
those who have aided us in searching for it. We wish to feel that we are
indeed worth so much money, so that we can lay our plans for the
future."
"Do you say that you wish to reward those who helped you obtain it?"
asked the stockman, removing his pipe and pricking up his ears.
"Of course we do," replied Fred, eagerly; "do you think that we are so
selfish as to claim the whole of the prize?"
"It's not for myself that I ask; 'tis for my daughter, who, in case I am
called to rest, will be destitute. Every pound shall be returned to you,
and then if you think from out of your abundant means, you can spare the
old convict and his child a few grains of dust, why, we shall be
thankful."
"Don't fear for me, father," the daughter said, with an expressive
glance at the brawny form of Smith, which seemed to say that he is
"strong enough to take care of me in this world of trouble."
"But I do care for you, for who else have I to love in this world?"
answered the stockman, wiping away a tear.
"And will you not let another share that love?" she said, fondling his
gray hairs, as though she had just awakened to a sense of his worth.
"What do you mean, girl?" he demanded, with a suspicious glance at her
face, which was suffused with blushes.
"I mean," she replied, coloring with contusion, "that if a suitor
should present himself, would you not be willing that I should marry
again?"
"You have just lost one husband, and who thinks of whispering nonsense
in your ears? Not these young gallants, I hope, for they never would be
willing to introduce you to their homes; and if they mean false, the old
gun is still capable of sending a bullet as true as the day that I took
it from a bushranger for killing my sheep."
"O, no, father; the young gentlemen have hardly spoken to me, and if I
should wait for them to make love, I should never be married."
"Then who has caught your fancy, and made you feel as though you wished
to desert your old father?" demanded the old convict, sternly.
"Not to desert you, father, for you shall come and live with us, and
give up your shepherd's occupation. The work is too hard and dangerous
for one of your years, and if you wish to make money the city offers
larger inducements."
"I don't understand all of this," cried the old man, wiping his brow,
and staring at us as though he wished we would explain. "You want me to
live with you, yet when, and where, I am left to conjecture."
"He will tell you all," cried the daughter, breaking away and entering
the hut, her face nearly as red as Smith's, and the latter's seemed as
though burning. He cast an imploring glance towards me, and I helped him
out of the dilemma as well as I was able.
"A man whom you might well be proud to call son-in-law has taken a fancy
to your daughter, and seeks to make her his wife. The match in one that
you can't help approving, for he is able to support her and be a kind
husband. What more can you ask for?"
"I ask for the name of the person, and you confuse me with a torrent of
praise," exclaimed the old man, testily.
"Here he is to speak for himself," I said, leading Smith up. "This is
the man who desires to become your son-in-law."
"Are you serious, Smith?" the stockman asked, with a suspicious glance
of his keen, gray eye.
"I assure you that I am, and that I will labor with all my might to make
your child a happy wife."
Smith bore the scrutiny without flinching, although his words were
uttered by syllables.
"But my child is poor; I can give her neither wealth, nor a proud,
untarnished name. I have been a sentenced convict."
"And what have I been?" asked Smith, with a tremulous voice, his head
falling upon his breast.
"Let us not refer to such matters," cried the stockman, briskly,
throwing off, with an effort, the constraint which the conversation had
given him. "I ask you if you are willing to marry my daughter, poor as
she is, and poor as you know me to be?"
The stockman's gray eyes were fixed upon the face of the suitor as
though reading his most secret thoughts.
"I have already answered that question, and told you that I was willing
and anxious to have the ceremony performed without delay. You shall live
with us, and take care of the house while I am at the mines. You shall
never want as long as I possess a shilling," answered Smith, heartily.
"Do those words come from your heart?" asked the old convict, eagerly.
"Else I should not have uttered them," Smith answered.
"Then my daughter shall be your wife; but she will not be the penniless
woman you think for. Follow me, and I will show you a sight that will
surprise you."
Thinking that the invitation was not addressed to us, Fred and myself
held back, and did not offer to follow the old man into his hut. The
stockman saw that we hesitated, and he called to us.
"Come in, all of you. I can trust friends, and I am sure you have all
proved to be such."
We followed, wondering what he meant by his words and hasty gestures,
and half inclined to think that the late trials through which he had
passed, had unsettled his brain.
"Come in," he whispered, "and shut the door. We don't want passing
strangers to see what we have concealed. Becky, where is the iron bar?"
he whispered, still lower.
His daughter handed a small iron bar to him, and with it he raised the
corner of a heavy stone, which formed his hearth.
"Now hold the bar in that position for me," he said, addressing Smith.
The latter complied, with his request, when the stockman inserted his
hand under the stone, and after groping about for a moment, pulled out a
heavy sheepskin bag, and laid it beside him. Once more he reached, and
again dragged to light another bag, similar in size and weight. He
motioned to let the stone return to its place, and then turned to us
with a triumphant air.
While the old man was thus employed, we remained silent, hardly knowing
what the proceedings on his part meant. With trembling hands he untied
the strings which confined the mouths of the bags, and held them up for
us to view. To our amazement, we found they were filled with fine gold
dust, of an excellent quality, and that the two sacks contained not less
than twenty thousand dollars' worth.
We uttered an exclamation of astonishment, and could hardly believe that
what we saw was real.
"Yes, yes; it's all good gold, God be praised," cried the stockman,
eagerly; "you thought that the old man was poor and destitute, but you
see that I'm not. I've wealth, and it's all my own. God be praised."
"But how came you in possession of so much gold dust?" asked Fred; a
slight suspicion crossing his mind that the old convict might have
employed his leisure hours at a bushranger's occupation.
"Honestly, good youth, honestly. God knows all things, and he will
acquit me of obtaining the dust otherwise."
"The amount is large for a person to possess who has received only a few
dollars per year for his services as shepherd," Fred remarked.
"I know--I know," cried the old man, trembling with eagerness, and
hastily taking up the bags again, and depositing them under the stone.
"I know," he continued, when he saw that the stone was safe in its
accustomed place, "that the amount is large; and I mean to add to it,
and be rich, and have men bow to me, and say, 'There goes one of our
most worthy men. He is worth a million.'"
The old convict actually straightened his lank body, and looked proudly
upon his daughter, as he thought of the homage which he should receive
as a wealthy man.
"But you have not told us how you became possessed of so much gold,"
Smith said, rather coolly.
"Never you mind how I got it--that is a secret. But be assured, one half
goes to you on the day that you marry my daughter."
"I accept of the woman, but before the gold crosses my palm, I must know
that it was--"
Smith hesitated, for he did not like to wound the old man's feelings.
"You would say honestly," cried the stockman, looking Smith full in the
face with his calm, gray eyes. "I like you better for your reluctance to
receive a portion with your wife until you know that you can use it with
honor. Be assured that you can do so."
"Convince me of the fact by relating how it came into your possession,
and I am satisfied," returned Smith.
"O James, James, have mercy," murmured the distressed daughter, who was
a witness of the scene.
The sturdy Smith resisted her appeal, and did not withdraw his eyes from
the face of the stockman, who seemed slightly discomposed at the
pertinacity of his intended son-in-law.
The old man hesitated and muttered to himself, and at length appeared to
recover sufficient confidence to speak.
"Will all three of you solemnly promise me that you will not divulge the
secret which I am about to impart?" he demanded.
"We will readily give our consent, because we have fought too many
battles, side by side, to injure a friend, even if he has been guilty of
imprudence," he replied.
"And will you also promise not to interfere with my plans, and demand to
share my profits?" he asked.
We smiled, for we thought how little he was capable of coping with the
energy and enterprise of ourselves.
"I see that you consent," he cried; "and now for the friend that yielded
all the wealth which I possess. Follow me a short distance."
He led the way at a rapid pace towards the small stream which we had
crossed so many times, and near the very spot where we had encamped on
our first visit to that part of the country.
"There is where I obtained my gold," he said, stopping suddenly, and
pointing with his hand towards the bank of the stream.
"You are misleading us," I said, not knowing what he meant.
"So help me, Heaven, I am not. Here, on the banks of the stream, I have
dug and washed thousands of pans full of earth, and yet no living soul
ever saw me at work. Here did I collect my gold, a shilling's worth at a
time, some days, and on other occasions by the ounce, until I gained
what I possess. I have toiled for it during heat and wet, and every
grain that you saw was obtained that way."
We were silent from wonder, and could hardly realize that he spoke the
truth. At length, Fred remarked,--
"For months, then, you have been aware of the existence of gold in this
particular spot?"
"Not only in one spot, but all along the stream can gold be found. Even
where you stand scales of dust can be obtained. The earth is full of
treasure, and requires but little stirring to enrich all who choose to
work."
"Then there is no occasion for us to go farther," I said; "here will we
rest and try our luck."
"You can't," shrieked the old man, shaking his withered hands, and
gesticulating violently. "You have promised not to interfere with my
work, and I hold you to your word. To me belongs the exclusive right of
mining on this land. I cannot share it with strangers."
"Why, how unreasonable and selfish you are, to exclude us from the
privileges which you enjoy!" returned Fred, angrily.
"Not so," replied the old man, somewhat mortified. "Let a rumor reach
Melbourne that gold is to be found by the side of this small stream, and
thousands of adventurers will flock here. My sheep would be driven off
or destroyed--the stream would be dried up, for there is hardly water
enough to supply my animals at the present time. Men would perish with
thirst, and cut each other's throats in their despair. My home would be
invaded, and the old man forced from the ground, and perhaps lose his
all while struggling in the race for wealth."
There was too much truth in the old man's words, and we were not
disposed to gainsay them. Still, we did not like to relinquish a chance
for money-making, and therefore we were disposed to argue the question.
"Here are days," we said, "when not a team or a foot passenger passes
this way. We could always be on the watch, and as soon as we saw
strangers we could desist from digging. Besides, then you would have us
near you to protect and look after your interest. Consider how much we
could assist you."
"I considered every thing," replied the old man, with a shake of his
gray head, as though he was determined not to be convinced. "I knew
that, unless I exacted a solemn promise, you would be wild to take
advantage of my information. But I know your hearts, and am well aware
that you will not struggle against an old man's wishes."
"Our company is disagreeable to you, then," Fred said. "We will not
force ourselves upon you, be assured. In an hour's time we shall turn
our backs upon the place, and probably never return."
"Come, come," cried the old convict, extending his hand, which we were
in no hurry to accept. "You are angry with me, and yet you have no just
cause, for I would expose my life to assist you. You are richer than I,
and need not quarrel with an old friend for the sake of working from the
earth a few scales of gold. Let me remain here in peace; for the
present, without being elbowed by strangers."
"We are agreed," I replied, pressing the stockman's hand: and as we did
so, a vision of his services rose before us, and amply rewarded us for
the slight sacrifice which we had made.
"Now," cried the stockman, "we are friends again; and to prove that I am
such, before noon I will place in your hands the bag of gold which we
came so near losing night before last"
"Ah, now we are convinced that you have our interest at heart," Fred
said, joyfully. "Let us but touch the treasure and you shall share with
us."
"I want no share--I've been repaid, ay, more than repaid, in obtaining
my freedom through your instrumentality, and if I can make some return I
shall be happy."
We no longer stopped to discuss the question of working upon his claim,
and in less than ten minutes after our return to the hut, we had saddled
our horses, and leaving Smith to follow with his oxen, for the purpose
of bringing home his half-consumed cart, we started once more towards
the still smoking woods.
The hot winds of Australia, which begin about ten o'clock in the
forenoon, swept over the prairie with a blast that felt like the flames
of an extensive conflagration, and yet we heeded it not, for our whole
thoughts were fixed, like greedy misers, upon the gold which we were
soon to acquire, and we speculated what we should do with our wealth,
and how expend it.
We urged our panting horses to their utmost speed, and not until the old
stockman cried out to us to draw up, or we should exhaust the brutes,
did we allow them to take breath.
"There's no use in being in such a hurry," he said, "because we are near
the spot, and have all the afternoon to get home."
In fact, even while he was speaking he dismounted near Smith's cart, and
we quickly followed his example.
"When I made my escape from the bushrangers, and carried off the gold, I
recollected that I had seen a stone near this spot, and that some kind
of animal had burrowed under it. The knowledge served me a good turn,
for when I gained the edge of the woods I scraped away a little dirt and
dropped the bag into the hole. Then I rapidly covered it, and entered
the forest again undiscovered."
While he was speaking our eyes had wandered in search of the rock which
he was mentioning, and within a rod of us we found it. We hardly waited
to hear the conclusion of his words before we had pushed aside the loose
dirt, and saw the soiled canvas bag which we had taken from the earth on
the day of our capture.
We raised it carefully from its hiding-place, and found that the weight
had not diminished. With eager hands we untied the strings, and exposed
to our longing eyes the glittering scales of gold dust, mixed with gold
coins, sovereigns, and American ten and twenty dollar pieces.
"Well," asked the stockman, "how much do you think you are worth now?"
The old fellow was as cool as an iceberg, and offered a striking
contrast to our excitement.
"Twenty thousand dollars," replied Fred, weighing the bag with both
hands; and no easy matter he found it to hold the gold at arm's length.
"More than that," replied the stockman, with a smile of gratified pride
at our pleasure. "Say thirty thousand, and you will come nearer the
mark."
"Five thousand shall go to reward you for your trouble," I said.
"Not a penny will I accept," he answered, quickly and decidedly; "I told
you that some time ago. I plead poverty because I did not wish people
to consider me rich, and I suppose by that means I have saved my life:
for if the marauders of those parts knew me to possess gold, my hut
would have been turned inside out, but that it would have been
discovered. No, no; keep your money, and may you do good with it."
We mounted our horses again, and hugging the bag of gold to my saddle
bow, as though fearful I should meet bushrangers to dispute my right to
it at every step, we recrossed the prairie, meeting Smith on the way, to
whom we imparted our good fortune, and received his congratulations. By
three o'clock the gold was safe under the hearthstone, and then we
breathed free, and felt that we indeed owned it.
By six o'clock Smith joined us with his dilapidated cart, when we
immediately commenced repairing it, and getting ready for our journey
towards Ballarat.
By the ingenious use of tree limbs, we were enabled to repair it
sufficiently to carry all of our freight; and after it was loaded on, we
ate our supper, and prepared for an early start.
The gold, which we were so glad to obtain possession of, troubled us,
however. We did not like to risk its safety with us, for we knew that
the population of Ballarat were wild and lawless, and we were rather
fearful of losing our treasure, now that we possessed it. We consulted
with Smith, and came to the conclusion that the safest place was with
the honest old stockman, buried beneath his stone hearth. He readily
accepted of the trust, and promised to deliver it only upon a written
order, signed by both of us, and with a private mark upon the paper.
With Smith we settled according to what we considered a liberal reward.
The honest fellow refused, at first, to accept of any thing, saying that
he had only performed his duty, and that he was still in our debt; but
we would not listen to such reasoning, and weighed out five thousand
dollars, as his share, for losses sustained, and time expended.
After that matter was settled, we retired to sleep, and only awakened to
partake of a substantial breakfast, for which, I have always suspected,
we were indebted to the kind consideration Smith was held in by Mrs.
Becky. At any rate, every thing that we could desire was spread before
us; and when we shook hands with the old stockman and his daughter, I
observed that Smith held the woman's hand with a firm grasp, as though
reluctant to relinquish it.
Our friends waved an adieu, Smith cracked his whip, and sighed, Rover
barked joyfully, as he saw preparations for moving, Fred and myself
cautioned the stockman, for the last time, to be careful of our gold,
and then we were off; and in half an hour's time had shut out the hut
behind a miniature hill, the first which we had seen for many days.
For two days we travelled, meeting teams and vehicles of all
descriptions, owned by uncouth individuals, who asked us the news from
Melbourne, and ridiculed us when we said that we didn't know the price
of ale and beer, or what flour was worth per ton.
As we advanced towards the mining district, the road was filled with
people flocking that way, while hundreds were on their return to
Melbourne or Sydney.
Wan, ghastly looking men were groaning upon the bottom of carts
destitute of springs. Others, hardly able to lift their feet, were
staggering along for some city where they could receive the attentions
of a physician, being too poor to employ one at the mines, and too
destitute to ride towards civilization.
Occasionally we saw a poor wretch by the roadside, who had apparently
lain down to die, too exhausted to proceed upon his journey; while
others hailed us, and begged us, in God's name, for a swallow of wine,
or other stimulant, to cheer them on their way.
Long before we reached Ballarat our slender stock of liquors was
exhausted, and yet we had not administered to the wants of one half of
those who sought aid. Indeed, had we listened to all who begged, our
provisions would also have disappeared, and we should have had to trust
to our purses to replenish our supply.
Smith was an old campaigner in these regions, and cheeked our
generosity, by giving us a few words of advice, which we afterwards
found were correct.
On we went, the road growing worse and worse as we advanced, and as the
wheels sunk into the deep ruts, I thought the wagon would be shattered
to pieces in the struggle to extricate it. Dozens of teams were stuck,
and despite the yells and curses of the drivers, the tired cattle
refused to move.
Smith's oxen, the freshest and strongest we had seen on the road, were
often borrowed to give distressed teamsters a lift, so that our progress
was rather slow; and it was not until five o'clock that we entered the
town of Ballarat, and passed along the main street, which was graced
with huts and tents of rough boards, on each side.
On we went, passing the "Melbourne Saloon," the "Sydney Saloon," the
"London Hotel," the "American Hotel," the "Californians' Retreat," and
numbers of other tents, decorated with huge letters of black paint, and
all setting forth the peculiar merits which each offered to the weary
traveller.
At one place, we were told that real London porter could be obtained for
ten shillings per bottle; and at another, that XX ale was selling for
only one shilling per glass.
Signs innumerable greeted our eyes. Doctors, who informed the public
that their charges were only one pound per visit, cash in advance to
save trouble; carpenters, who offered to build houses at the cheapest
rate; carriers, willing to freight goods to any part of Australia, and
would not guarantee a safe delivery--all these were passed by without
attracting any attention, although the scene was one of novelty and
excitement to us.
We gained a portion of the town that was comparatively clear of tents,
and near a stream of water. Here Smith thought we had better stop; and
tired, and perhaps homesick, we pitched our tent, and ate our first
supper at the mines of Ballarat.