Читать книгу The Last Chance: A Tale of the Golden West - Rolf Boldrewood - Страница 7

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‘Thanks very much. Perhaps you’ll dine with me to-night. One of my partners is coming along, who will be pleased to make your acquaintance. We’ll drive over, Con. Now then,’ he continued, after they had trotted a short distance along the dusty street, ‘The “Last Chance,” as you have seen, is one of the richest claims in Australia. All the vacant ground within miles of it will be rushed in a week. Would you and your mate like to register four men’s ground on No.1, north of the Reward Claim—on half shares? There’s plenty for all.’

‘All right, sir. We’ve got our Miners’ Rights all square and regular—and glad of the offer. I know a couple more chaps here—old mates that’ll go in with us, so as to make up the claim. You know Murphy, and Crowley, don’t you, sir? They’ll come, quick and lively. Good men to work, too.’ The next step was taken without delay. It was legally necessary to register the Prospecting Area—to take out Miners’ Rights—to apply for a lease. They were entitled under Regulation No.15 of the Goldfields Act of 189– to twelve acres, in the shape of a rectangular [62] parallelogram. These matters rendered it necessary to remain for the day at Swantown, so Mr.Banneret surrendered himself to the inevitable without much uneasiness. He took rooms for himself and partner at the hotel called ‘Palace’—large and fairly commodious, though by no means so much so as in the stage to which the city was destined to develop. He expected Newstead to arrive about lunch-time, and philosophically set off on a tour of inspection.

That this was destined to be the centre of the largest, richest goldfield in Australia, his experience enabled him to decide. From all directions prospecting parties were converging—immediately importing themselves at the Bank. There was but one, at present. The shops and stores were much the same as those on every promising goldfield, perhaps more comprehensive and high-priced. The surroundings were, however, distinctly suggestive of a dry country in a dry season.

For rain does come to these ‘habitations in sicco,’ though chiefly with reluctance and economy. The animals for team and burden were half-starved, sometimes emaciated to a degree. The strings of camels, with their turbaned Afghan drivers, were strangely foreign to his unaccustomed eyes. They stood patient, and uncomplaining, before the larger stores, or arrived laden with wool from the more distant stations, which, owing to the dry season, were unable to forward their fleeces, or obtain supplies without the aid of the ‘ship of the desert.’ There he stood, huge, ungainly, unpopular with [63] the teamsters, terrifying to their horses—and all others.

Sullenly regarded by the white labourers as alien to their country and their trade, it yet could not be denied that here, at least, was the right burden-bearer in the right place—in spite of his queer temper, his general unpleasantness, and his incongruous appearance in this twentieth-century Australia, utterly, manifestly indispensable, as he had been in the long-past ages when ‘the famine was sore in the land.’

Mr.Banneret having a taste for exploring, and being also a practised pedestrian, took a longish walk around the outskirts of the town, before returning to the hotel and taking his seat at the dinner-table. This was a long, substantial piece of furniture, amply supplied with materials for a meal of the same character. All sorts and conditions of men were there represented: aristocratic tourists, on the look-out for mining investments—directors, or managers of syndicates, companies, exploring parties, mercantile partnerships, what not. All were animated by the common attraction, most successful of all baits with which to ensnare the soul of man, from the dawn of history. Recruits for the great army of industry, from all lands, of all colours, castes, and conditions—the coach-driver, the teamster, the newly arrived emigrant, the army deserter, the runaway sailor, the stock-rider, the navvy, the shepherd,—all men were free and equal at the Palace Hotel, so long as they could pay for bed and board. Nor was there [64] observable any objectionable roughness of tone or manner, in a company formed of such heterogeneous elements.

It is surprising to the ‘observer of human nature’ how the higher tone seems instinctively adopted by the mass, when leavened with gentlefolk, though they may have been wholly unused to its rules and limitations in earlier life.

To Arnold Banneret this was nothing new. Accustomed in his official journeyings to mix occasionally, though not, of course, habitually, with all classes of Australian workers, he knew—no man better—that, given a courteous and unpretending manner, no gentleman, in the true sense of the word, need fear annoyance or disrespect in the remote ‘back block’ region, or the recent goldfield ‘rush.’ It had leaked out that he had ‘come in’ from a find of more than ordinary value, the locality of which was deeply interesting to everybody. But the unwritten code of mining etiquette prevented direct questioning. They knew, these keen-eyed prospectors and workers on so many a field, that the necessary information would soon disclose itself, so to speak, and that the last who followed the tracks of the earlier searchers would have as good a chance of success as the first.

Having satisfied his appetite, a fairly keen one, he betook himself to his bedroom, and wrote at length to his wife, detailing all progress since his last letter, and finishing up with this exceptional statement: ‘This journey has, of course, not been without a certain share of inconvenience, [65] and what some people might call hardship. But you know that such wayfaring is in the nature of holiday-making for me. It was, of course, a hazardous adventure, inasmuch as all our small reserve of capital was embarked. A miscalculation would have been wreck, and almost total loss: would have taken years of painful saving and rigid self-denial to have made up the deficit. But now success, phenomenal, assured, has more than justified the risk, the apparent imprudence, everything. Our fortune is made! as the phrase goes; think of that! When the company is floated, the shares allotted, the machinery on the road to Perth, a hundred thousand pounds will be the lowest valuation at which our half share in the “Last Chance” can be calculated. A hundred thousand pounds! Think of that! Of what it means for you, for me, for the children. For everybody concerned. And a good many people will be concerned beneficially in the venture as soon as the money is paid to my account in the Bank of New Holland.

‘I don’t intend that there shall be any risk or uncertainty in the future—apart from those apparently accidental occurrences from which, under God’s providence, no man is free. But I will invest fifty thousand pounds in debentures, well secured; so that, come what will, a comfortable home, a sufficing income, will always be assured to you and the children. Of course I shall resign my appointment as soon as I return, giving the Government all proper notice. Our future home will be in Sydney or Melbourne, on whichever we [66] may decide. The children are just at the age when higher educational facilities are required. They have not done badly so far. But they are growing up fast, and upon what they assimilate, intellectually, for the next few years will their social success largely depend.

‘It is needless to dilate upon the endless pleasures and the general advantages of the possession of ample means, now, for the first time in our lives, enjoyed, or about to be provided for us, before the fruition is accomplished. I have always been averse to a too sanguine appropriation of the probable treasure. Alnaschar’s basket is still to be met with. And I must cross both desert sand, and ocean wave, before I can pour into your ear the tale of my strange adventures and their marvellous ending. For the present, I conclude, full of thankfulness, but, I trust, not unduly elated. “People I have met” will furnish many an hour’s talk, not the least of whom are my two mates and partners—one of whom is now delving away at the claim with old Jack Waters, as if to the manner born; and the other, whom I expect will rejoin me before sunset, is unromantically driving the light waggon containing all our goods and chattels. These “labouring men” are of a type unlikely to be found in any land less contradictory to all preconceived ideas than Australia. They are, in fact and truth, genuine English aristocrats—one being Lord Newstead, the other the Honourable Denzil, son of the Earl of Southwater. They are quite young, hardly past their majority, in fact; but [67] full of pluck, hungering for adventure, and resolving to see it out before they turn their backs on this Eldorado of the West. Particularly the Honourable Denzil, who is a born explorer and pathfinder. He will make his mark, if I mistake not, before he is many years older.

‘It is a great pleasure to me, as you may believe, to work with men of this sort. No doubt we are mutually helpful—their high spirits, and sanguine anticipations, tend to raise mine, which my experience (not to mention that of old Jack) moderates. We have been, since we forgathered, as Scotch people say, a cheerful and congenial party, destined, I think, to become firm friends and attached comrades in the future.’

The afternoon was well advanced when Newstead made his appearance, having come quietly along, sparing his horses, as he had already learned to do since his arrival in Australia. Mr.Banneret had finished his letter and his walk; was therefore not disinclined to have a companion with whom to discuss the situation. He was pleased to find that a share of the only available bedroom had been engaged for him, and deposited his personal property therein with unconcealed satisfaction.

‘One can’t help being childishly pleased with the certainty of a real bed, and a dinner to match, again,’ he said. ‘Denzil and I have roughed it as thoroughly as any two “new chums” (which is Australian for English here), and it’s done us no end of good. But there’s a time for all things, and after six months’ hard graft, with a trifle of [68] hunger and thirst thrown in, it’s awfully jolly to come to a land of chops and steaks, sheets and blankets, with a prospect of yet higher life in the near future. But on that we must not dwell yet a while. I suppose you made it all right with the Bank?’

‘Yes; the nuggets are safe for the present, and I can draw against them to any reasonable amount. That’s consoling. Our next move will be to fix up about the lease, and so on. I’ve just bought the W.A. Act and Regulations, which I needn’t tell you it is vitally necessary to be well up in, on a goldfield. Any big show is sure to be well scrutinised by the “jumper” fraternity, and any joint in the armour pierced, if possible. Litigation, too, always means delay, if not loss and anxiety.’

‘How long do we stay here?’

‘Only as long as it will take us to complete arrangements. Then you return to the claim, “Waters’ Reward.” We must call it after old Jack, who has certainly the best title to it, after doing such a “perish,” as he would say, in its discovery. You’ll see it all in the paper to-morrow morning, for, of course, I’ve been attacked by the ferocious reporter of the “Dry, dry desolate Land” (with apologies to Mr.Kipling).’

‘And you told him all about it?’

‘Of course—he has a quasi-legal right to the information, now that the Mining Registrar is in possession of the facts. Payable gold, as you are aware, must be declared within so many days. And as any miner, for a small fee, is entitled to search the Registration Book, there is no object to be gained by secrecy.’

[69] ‘What a rush there’ll be, directly it gets wind! No doubt about that. When does the Miner’s Friend come out?’

‘At breakfast time to-morrow. We had better stable the horses to-night, and keep a good lock on the door, for there’ll be many a nag missing by the morning light.’

His conjecture was correct. The news had leaked out accidentally through the office. Told to a few comrades at first, the group had widened. Then like the trickling rill from the faulty reservoir, the rivulet gained width and force, until the volume of sound and objurgation swelled, echoing amid the encampment of huts, tents, and shelter contrivances. The tramp of a thousand men, the galloping of horses, the strange cries of Afghan camel-drivers, formed no inadequate presentment of, in all but the discipline, an army brigade on the march.

.........

A few hours of the night were devoted to a carefully-thought-out list, and programme of future proceedings, as well as the formation of a list of requisites for Newstead to take back to the claim. A couple of wages men were also engaged, it being thought expedient to strengthen the man-power of the expedition, in view of the crowd of probable fellow-travellers which would be heading for Pilot Mount on the morrow—indeed on that very night. Mr.Banneret was fortunate in picking up a couple of ex-residents on his old field.

They had not been successful, so far, and so [70] were only too ready to embark under the auspices of the Commissioner, in whom, like all his former subjects (so to speak), they had unbounded faith. ‘These men,’ he said, ‘have been known to me for years, and two better men than Pat Halloran and Mickey Doyle never handled pick and shovel. They are perfectly straight, plucky, and experienced. In anything like danger I would trust my life to them. We were lucky to have fallen in with them. They have travelled, too, in their day, and know New Zealand, from the Thames to Hohitika—as well as Ballarat and Bendigo.’

‘So far, so good,’ said Mr.Newstead. ‘We shall want a lot of stores—machinery too. All sorts of eatables and wearables. No end of sundries, which will “foot up” to a total of some importance. Where shall we get them in your absence? Everything seems to be at war prices.’

‘I’ve fallen on my feet in that matter also. That you can get everything on a goldfield, has always been a contention of mine. It’s a sort of Universal Provider shop, once it’s been established sufficiently long to attract the regulation army of Adullamites. A goldfield is created for them, and they for a goldfield. We’ve got two first-class wages men, and I’ve found the ideal storekeeper and general agent.’

‘What’s he like?—has been a gentleman, Lord help him! I can’t say I care for that brand.’

‘Wait till you see him, that’s all. He’s an old schoolfellow of mine, and his wife’s a lady, if ever there was one, as I think you’ll admit. I guarantee him.’

[71] ‘Well, if you do that, it’s all right, of course.’

‘I vouch for him absolutely. We can depend on not paying a shilling more than the current market price, and on getting everything good of its kind.’

.........

The return journey and voyage were so little eventful that they require no mention in detail. The local papers were full of highly coloured references to the phenomenal find at Waters’ Reward, for which a lease had been granted to Messrs. Banneret and Waters.

‘The actual prospector was Mr.John Waters, a pioneer miner, experience in California, Australia, New Zealand, and South America. His name was sufficient among the mining community to account for any fortunate discovery in the world of metals. It was not the first, by a dozen or more. That he had not profited permanently by his well-known rich finds in former days and other climes, must be attributed to the spirit of restless change and hunger for adventure, so characteristic of the miner’s life. He had “struck it rich,” in mining parlance, again and again. But the “riches had been of the winged description,” had flown far and wide—were, for practical purposes, non-existent. There may have been a certain degree of imprudence, but what golden-hole miner hasn’t done the same? The fortunate rover lends and spends, ever lavish of hospitality and friendly aid, as if the deposit was inexhaustible. “Plenty more where that came from,” is the miner’s motto.

‘Doubtless there is, but delays occur, protracted [72] not infrequently within our experience, until the prodigal, like his prototype, is reduced to dire distress and unbefitting occupation. In our respected comrade’s case the fickle goddess has again smiled on his enterprise. Let us trust that he will learn from the past to be independent of her moods for the future. The senior shareholder, well known and respected as a Goldfields Warden in another State, has gone east to arrange for the necessary machinery, and the thousand-and-one requisites for a quartz-crushing plant of fifty stamps, with everything, up to the latest date, in the way of metallurgical reduction. No time will be lost in getting it on the ground, and the results will be, it may be confidently stated by this journal, such as will startle the mining world, and give fresh impetus to all industrial occupation in our midst.’

.........

At home once more. What a blessed sound! comprehensive, endearing, filled with the domestic joys which wife and children supply—a joy such as no other earthly pleasure can simulate. The Commissioner was ‘once more on his native heath,’ so to speak; and as he walked into his well-remembered office, earlier than usual, in order to take a leisurely survey of the great mass of papers, private and official, which awaited his return, and noted the gathering crowd which had already formed around the Court House door, a certain feeling of regret arose in his mind at the idea that his ministerial and judicial functions were about to cease and determine within so short [73] a time. True, at times his position had been one of great, even painful responsibility.

It could hardly have been otherwise, when the hundreds, even thousands, of disputes, inevitable on a rich and extensive alluvial goldfield, had, as a Court of First Instance, to be decided by the Commissioner hearing evidence ‘on the ground’—the centre of an excited crowd; or in the district Court House, with counsel for and against, and all legal accessories, but chiefly with the Commissioner as sole adjudicator and all but final referee. To be sure, there was an appeal to the District Court, attending quarterly; beyond that, if doubt existed, and the claim was sufficiently rich to fee counsel and support the great expense of a Supreme Court trial. A thousand-pounds brief had been handed to the leader of the Bar, in his experience, before now in an important claim. But, so far, his decisions had been chiefly unchallenged. In fewer instances still, had they been reversed. Long years of goldfields wars and rumours of wars had given him such thorough knowledge of the intricacies of that abstruse and (apparently) complicated subject, mineral law, that he was seldom technically doubtful, while his staunch adherence to equity, with an unflinching love of abstract justice, were universally recognised. So, on the whole, as ‘a judge, and a ruler in Israel,’ his reign had been satisfactory.

And now he was about to relinquish the trappings of office—the prestige—the social weight and authority—which he had held and, in a sense, appreciated for the last decade. True, the [74] accompanying distinctions were purely honorary. The salary was barely equal to the family needs, for education, apparel, travelling, and other expenses. But it had sufficed in time past. He was admittedly the leading personage in his provincial circle; the universal referee in art, letters, sport, and magisterial sway. And the declension to the status of a private individual is after such prominence not unfelt.

On the other hand, what glories, even triumphs, lay in the future, if this marvellous Reward Claim ‘kept up,’ or ‘went down’ equally rich! Travel—books—pictures—education—society—all on the higher scale,—money being no object in the coming Arabian Nights existence. Aladdin’s lamp would speedily be brought into requisition. Sydney or Melbourne would be their headquarters for the next few years. Of course they would ‘go home’ as the children grew up. Harrow or Eton—Oxford or Cambridge for the boys. Continental tours—lessons in languages—Henley, in the green English spring. The Derby, the Grand National—Kennington Oval (had they not a cousin a renowned Australian cricketer, who had made the record score in a world-renowned match!). It was too fairy-like—too ecstatic! They would never live to go through the programme. Fate would interfere after her old malign, mysterious fashion, to withhold such superhuman happiness.

But more matter-of-fact mundane considerations had to be considered, and primarily dealt with. Three months’ further leave had to be applied for [75] ‘upon urgent private affairs,’ at the conclusion of which period the applicant proposed to retire from the New South Wales Civil Service. This was tolerably certain to be granted. The appointment was a fairly good one, as such billets go. There are always aspiring suitors for promotion, or officials of equal rank and qualifications, who, from family or other reasons, desire removal.

Of course the truth leaked out after a few days. The departure of the Commissioner and the old prospector had not been unnoticed. No joint enterprise could have been possible in his own district; such a partnership would have been illegal. Even if veiled, it must inevitably have led to complications between private and official relations. Against all such enterprises, however alluring, he had set his face resolutely. So the public came to the conclusion even before the first copies of the Western Watchman came to hand, that the ‘show’ must be in another colony; and so would result only in the loss of their Commissioner and Police Magistrate—in addition to the usual exodus of that section of the population which invariably follows the newest ‘rush,’ whether to Carpentaria or Klondyke. Then waifs and wasters could be well spared, while the steady workers would be useful in sending back reliable information to their mates and friends. Con Heffernan had started, Patroclus the Greek, Karl Richter, and the two Morgans; they would write quick enough after they got there, and if the find was half as good as was talked about, every man in Barrawong who wasn’t married, or [76] had cash enough to take him there, would be on the road within forty-eight hours.

Of course they would be sorry to lose the Commissioner; they wouldn’t get another in a hurry who was as smart, straight, and decided. He was fair, between man and man, and didn’t care a hang what creed, country, or caste a man belonged to when he was trying a case. All he wanted was to do justice, and he didn’t mind making the law himself sometimes, so as he could give the claim to the right man. Didn’t he fight the great No.4 Black Creek Block case for Pat Farrell and party against the Dawson crowd, and them having a lot of money behind them—after it was adjourned, and remanded and sent to the Full Court in Sydney—fresh magistrates being got to sit on the bench; and, after all, old Pat Farrell got it, with heavy costs against the jumpers? And Mrs.Banneret—wasn’t she the kind woman to the diggers’ wives and kids?—though she had a young family of her own, and little enough time or money to spare from them. Well, good luck go with them, and the poor man’s blessing, wherever they went, far or near! They’d be remembered in Barrawong for many a year to come, anyhow—as long as there was a shaft or a windlass left on the field.

What thoughts and emotions struggled for precedence in Arnold Banneret’s breast when he reached the country town near his home, and saw the familiar faces of the provincial inhabitants, mildly interested in the arrival of the daily coach, bringing as usual novelties, human and otherwise—last [77] from the sea-port, and by that medium from the world at large. Casting his eyes around, after a few hurried but warm greetings, they fell on the well-worn buggy and the favourite pair of horses. His eldest son, a boy of fourteen, held the reins, which he transferred to his father, after replying in the affirmative to the important inquiry, ‘All well at home?’

As he gave the accustomed touch, the horses, needing no other hint, started along the metalled high road at a ten-mile-an-hour trot, which they showed no disposition to relax until they came to the turn-off track leading to the home paddock.

‘Well, father,’ said the youngster, ‘you’ve had a fine time of it, I suppose? I’d have given all the world to have gone with you. I suppose you couldn’t take me when you go back?’

‘No, my man! You’ve got your education to attend to, and to see mother and the children settled in Sydney first. I can’t afford to stay long. So you’ll have to be mother’s right-hand man while I’m away.’

‘I suppose I’m to go to school when we get to Sydney?’—in a slightly aggrieved tone.

‘Of course you are—and to the University afterwards, unless you are not able to pass the Matric.—which I should be sorry to think for a moment you couldn’t manage.’

‘Oh dear! I suppose it will be years and years of Latin and Greek, and history and geometry, before I can make a start in life for myself. If I’m to be a squatter—and I’m not going to be [78] anything else—what is the use of losing all this time?’

‘My dear boy, you are to have the education of a gentleman. Whether you decide for a bush life or a profession, a mining investor’s or a soldier’s, it will be equally useful—I may say, indispensable—to you. But there is ever so much time before us in which to settle such a very important question. How well the country is looking! I haven’t seen so much grass and water since I left home.’

‘It ought to look well—we nearly had a flood in the river last week. The flats were covered, feet deep, but it soon went off again. It won’t do any harm, they say; but we thought it would come into the house one evening, and mother sat up half the night. It began to fall next day.’

‘That was fortunate. Everything looks flourishing now. Oh, here are the children, all come out to meet Dad, who is a man from a far country. Pull up, Reggie! and I’ll get out. Steady, Hector!’

Hector, the impatient, didn’t see the use of stopping so near home: indeed, gave two or three tugs and rushes before Mr.Banneret got clear of the buggy. Then there was great kissing and hugging, to be sure, from the half-dozen children, who hung round Daddy’s neck and kissed impartially, taking any part of him that came handy. There were four girls and three boys of differing ages and sizes, from Reggie, aged fourteen, and Eric, ten, to Jack and Jill, aged five, and a rose-faced pet of three, who demanded to be taken [79] into the buggy forthwith. So did the entire troop. But a compromise was effected by the girls getting in, and the boys electing to walk home. The load made no appreciable difference—eleven, including five adults and six children, had been carted eight miles on their first introduction to the district, in the same trap, the redoubtable Hector being quite as hard to hold then as now.

.........

Such a paradise as home (blessed place and blessed word) appeared to the far-travelled father and husband! We pass over the mutual greetings of wife and husband—matters too sacred for descriptive analysis—‘with whose joy the stranger intermeddleth not.’ That they ‘kissed again with tears,’ on one side at any rate, may be conceded. All had gone well during the house-father’s absence. Hector had been lame for a week—which had led to anxiety. No cause could be assigned; but the shoeing smith was suspected of a tap with his hammer, as a hint to stand still. He declined to confess, but relieved his mind by abusing Hector as the most impatient, troublesome old wretch whose leg he had ever lifted. Anyhow, he was quite well again, and ‘flasher than ever’—this was the second son’s contribution to the case.

Next morning, in the pre-breakfast stroll, the springing crops—the wide alluvial flats—the lucerne fields—the dairy herd—the stud of well-bred horses—all appealed to the wanderer’s tastes and early associations; the delightful country attributes of a long-held fertile [80] estate—inherited by the present proprietor. The Commissioner was indeed but a tenant, dwelling in the ‘barton,’ so to speak, in old English term—the manor was the Squire’s by inheritance and occupation since he had come of age. A new house had been built soon after the auspicious occasion of his marriage; while, on the Commissioner’s arrival in the district, the roomy, old-fashioned cottage, with large rambling garden and aged orchard, had been gladly rented by him. For a man in his position, no more suitable place could have been found. The families became fast friends, and, what is more to the purpose, remained so for the whole decade during which the Commissioner’s official duties attached him to the district. The green fields and pastures were as much his as their owner’s, in the sense that a woodland scene belongs to him who can appreciate the lovely, verdant landscape. In earliest spring—in the bracing, but never severe winter of the South land—amid evergreen forests and running streams, even in the torrid summer, when the fresh, dry air has no enervating tendency—in the still dreamy autumn, ere yet the first hint of frost has shown itself in the yellowing oaks and elms—children they of the far north home-land—how good was the outlook! The Commissioner loved these demarcations of the changing year. In the river, which divided the great meadows from the estate of a neighbouring potentate, his boys learned to swim, and, both in the early summer morn and lingering eve, were eager to plunge into its cool depths, or unwilling [81] to return in time for the evening meal, to race and splash over the pebbly shallows. There were well-grassed paddocks for their ponies as well as for Hector and Paris, and their father’s hackney. They established also, it may be easily surmised, trial races and contests with the sons of the house, and by degrees developed the equine association, which helped them notably in the aftertime of polo, hunting, and four-in-hand driving—when such pastimes and practice became suitable to their age and position.

It was a happy time then, with occasional exceptions, for the years of early youth that the children spent at Carjagong; for the parents also, though work was constant, and the just soul of Proconsul Paterfamilias was often vexed by malign editors and Radical demagogues, who stirred up strife in his kingdom, but he was supported by the more thoughtful of the mining population, as well as by the gentry of the district, with whom the family were always on good terms. A yearly or biennial visit to the cities of the coast gave all hands a taste of social life, and, with a breath of the sea breezes, a sight of the ocean wave and the world-famed harbour. So the family grew up: the girls into vigorous, independent maidens, riding and driving, reading and dancing alternately—with equal enthusiasm, as is the wont of the country-reared damsel, whether in Britain or Australia, Galway or Goulburn. There is, it must be allowed, in both hemispheres a note of freshness, vigour, and vitality observable in the country cousins, to which the town denizens, blasées with [82] unnumbered dissipations, rarely attain. Added to the ordinary accomplishments, in which they were fairly proficient, they had from time to time personal experience of the household duties, which the dearth of female domestics—then as now a grave matter of concern on the part of matrons—rendered necessary. Thus it must be allowed that for the position of chatelaine, to which, in due course of time, they might reasonably aspire, they were fairly equipped.

And the sons of the house, destined in days to come to work in distant States, or ‘outside’ regions, calling for leaders in the various industries of a great, almost boundless continent, would be found not unequal in brain or muscle to the duties imposed on them. Sons and grandsons of pioneers, they inherited the thirst for adventure which had brought the founder of the family, sea-borne in his own galley, like a Viking of old, so far across the restless main, to the new world under the Southern Cross. And now the abiding-place of the Bannerets was again to be changed. Leaving on former occasions their established residences in or near the principal cities of the coast, where flower-gardens bloomed, and orchards bore their annual store of tropical or British fruits, they had voyaged, or journeyed, to new, unpeopled regions. The same experience had been repeated—the building, the planting, the rearing of stock, the turning of waste land into fields and gardens, vineyards and olive-yards—sometimes for the benefit of the exiled family, more often for the use and reward of others when the route was given once again.

[83] There had been sadness and heartburnings on all these occasions of uprooting ties and friendships which more than once had struck deep into a kindly soil; but the inherited pioneer instinct had triumphed over all regrets. Sometimes the exodus had been from a country life to that of cities; then the regret was softened by the anticipation of metropolitan privileges—the meeting with friends and relatives, the enchantments of novelty and romance. Still, again, the departure from these new delights to a distant, untried region, a strange environment, an unknown society, was proportionately distasteful.

But the Bannerets were an adaptable race: they soon familiarised themselves with new surroundings. Hot or cold, plain or forest, ‘out back’ or near town, it seemed alike to them. They discovered kindred spirits in the strangers amongst whom, for the first time, they were thrown. They were sociable to the point of tolerating those whom they could not admire; being civil and friendly to all sorts and conditions of men, ready to do a kindness whenever such opportunity came in their way, while preserving, as far as in them lay, that standard of conduct and manners which had been habitual from childhood. Small wonder, then, that they never left one of the country towns, to which the exigencies of official or pastoral life guided their steps, without public regrets being expressed. A presentation in every case accompanied the address, which, in the shape of coin of the realm, was not unwelcome. Their residence in this, a fertile as well as [84] gold-bearing district, had exceeded the usual term, and the manifestations of public sympathy were therefore more general and pronounced.

To be sure, on the following morning after the Commissioner’s arrival, when it was announced that he had decided to ask for three months’ leave of absence, and to retire at the end of that time from the Government service, there was a certain excitement, almost a commotion.

Many of the inhabitants, who had accepted the rule of the Commissioner without any particular enthusiasm, were always willing to admit that he was a man ready to work in season or out of season, whenever there was public duty to be performed—considerate and impartial—treating the Christian or the Chinaman according to the Act and Regulations in such cases made and provided, and to no other code, moral or otherwise; an official almost ceaselessly employed during the waking hours—often before sunrise, or after dark, by the journeys which his duties of inspection rendered indispensable; rarely known to be tired, ill, or discourteous; ready alike to hear as patiently the case of the humblest miner as that of the most powerful syndicate;—such was his record for the ten long years that he had lived among them in almost daily intercourse. A judge and a ruler, moreover, whose decisions, in the words of an influential local journal, ‘had been rarely appealed against, and still more rarely reversed.’

As in many other possessions and privileges, the benefits of which are not sufficiently valued until in danger of being lost, great was the outcry, [85] many the professions of regret, when the news of resignation was confirmed. Where were they to get another man versed in their mining laws?

Then the family, that was another important consideration. From the lady of the house downward, they were favourites in the district. Friendly and sympathetic with all classes, there was no case of sorrow or distress where they were not helpful in aid, as far as their means allowed. Fond of amusement in a rational way, they joined in all the social and public entertainments with a cordiality which notably tended towards their success—pecuniary or otherwise. At bazaars for charitable purposes, hospital balls, race meetings, and other enterprises, they were well to the fore—entering into the spirit of the entertainments and giving unstinted personal service. And now, the Commissioner and this exceptional family were about to leave them and be replaced, possibly, by a formal, ceremonious personage, who disliked the mining duties of his appointment, and was concerned chiefly with the magisterial routine of Court, and Petty Sessions duty, which he would (erroneously) consider more dignified and aristocratic than riding hither and thither in all kinds of weather, early and late, inspecting shafts, and, indeed, descending occasionally into the bowels of the earth, where a feeling of insecurity was painfully present. On the other hand, this gloomy probability might not be realised. There were popular Commissioners and able Police Magistrates yet to be found in the land. Many of them had wives and daughters capable of irradiating the [86] social atmosphere and helping in all good works. They must keep a good heart, and hope for the best; and if they could not keep their proconsul, so to speak, for the term of his natural life—which would be unjust on the face of it, inasmuch as he had dropped on a veritable ‘golden hole,’—they must wish him luck, and give him a good ‘send off.’ And to that end, the best plan now was to hold a public meeting, appoint a strong committee, and show what the miners of the great alluvial field of Barrawong could do to show their appreciation of ‘a man and a gentleman,’ a friend of every miner, rich or poor, and a magistrate whom every man on the field respected, even when he decided against him. This, of course, took time, but everybody worked with a will, and the committee, composed of leading miners, storekeepers, bankers, and magistrates of the district, made great progress. Dinners were given in his honour, speeches were made, even a ball was ‘tendered to him and his amiable family’—such were the words of the invitation in which reference was made to all the good qualities which could be packed into any given official, and freely attributed to him. The ball was a great success; the room was handsomely decorated with the great fronds of the tree fern, the mimosa, and other botanical favourites, intermixed with flags of all nations, which, indeed, the festive company represented. The Mayor in the opening quadrille danced with Mrs.Banneret, the Commissioner with the Mayoress, and according to their degree, as in more aristocratic circles, the other sets were [87] arranged. That ball was a pronounced success. It was referred to, at intervals, for years afterwards, as the Commissioner’s farewell ball. Not only were the élite of the mining community present, but the families of the leading residents of the district for many miles round, who had travelled long distances in order to attend. Mrs.Banneret was driven home at a comparatively early period in the evening, but the Commissioner, who had been devoted to dancing in his youth, and was not now beyond the age when that charming exercise can be enjoyed, remained until the ‘wee short hour ayont the twal’,’ when finding that the gate of the stable-yard was locked, and the groom asleep, he felt himself almost in a quandary. However, being a man of resource, as from his varied occupations he needed to be, he saddled his well-known cob, and leading that well-trained hackney through the back door of the hotel parlour, and across the floor, he made a safe exit by the front, and reached home without let or hindrance.

.........

After years of settled official work—not hard or distasteful, but still compulsory and exacting—there is always an exhilarating feeling, resulting from the knowledge that henceforth the trammels of regulated occupation are loosed for ever. Like the freed bird darting into the blithe sunshine, the wide world seems opened, as in our boyhood, to an exhaustless series of wonders and privileges impossible in the earlier stages of life for lack of time, opportunity, money—if you will. Travelling, the very salt of life, has been sparely, [88] if at all, enjoyed. There are cities to visit—art treasures in which to revel—every kind and degree of rational enjoyment open to him and those dear ones whose welfare had always been his highest aim and consideration.

It is a matter generally of chastened, peaceful enjoyment to the released official of any degree, when, as dear ‘Elia’ phrases it, he can ‘go home for good’—with an income sufficient to provide suitably for the declining years of life. But what must be his feelings when such a man is suddenly translated into a position of affluence—to wealth beyond his wildest dreams? Hardly that, perhaps, as every one connected with a goldfield can dream, and generally does, of the lease so slow ‘in beating the water,’ the reef so unwilling to ‘jump’ from pennyweights to ounces, floating him out to measureless wealth, celebrity, and world-wide fame. Now, however, for the Commissioner all the anxieties, uncertainties, and regrets of daily life had suddenly come to an end. The ‘Last Chance’ was a proved, triumphant success—seven to ten ounces to the ton, the great reef doing better and better as it went down—the richest claim in the richest and, for the future, the largest goldfield in Australia—the end of doubt, debt, and difficulty had come. “His fortune was made!” The well-worn phrase in commonest use among all classes and conditions, trite and terse, even vulgarly so, but how comprehensive! The open sesame to how many doors, gates, and treasure-caves of delights innumerable, jealously guarded in the past. What a heaven in anticipation seemed opening [89] before him! But even then a half-regretful feeling arose—a sigh escaped for the old, fully occupied life of ‘pleasure and pain,’ when ‘the hardest day was never then too hard.’ Certainly there had been doubts, wearying anxieties, troubles, burdens of debt, disappointments; but, as a set-off, the family had enjoyed, on the whole, excellent health, high spirits, and reasonable comfort.

He himself had never had, with one exception (an intrusive fever), a day’s illness, or absence from work on that account. Would this Arcadian state of matters be continuous in the future? He did not know—who can tell what a day may bring forth? He would be separated from his family for months at a time. This was inevitable. The goldfield was distant, and at the most dangerous period of occupation,—scourged with typhoid fever, pneumonia, influenza, dysentery, what not? Afflicting fatally the young and brave, the old and feeble, the hardy miner and the immature tourist, how would his family fare? Of course he would not take his wife and children there—the thought was impossible. Heat and dust, bad water, bad food, flies in myriads, no domestic servants, or merely the outlaws of the industrial army—the thought was too distasteful! So, even at this stage, the prosperity was not unalloyed; what condition of human existence is, when we come to think? Dangers thicken at every step in the battle of life, but better they a hundredfold than the cankers, the ‘moth and rust’ of inglorious peace. ‘However,’ thought Banneret, as he roused himself from this introspective reverie, ‘here is a state of [90] so-called prosperity, for which I have been longing, consciously or otherwise, all my life; and now that it has come, why am I indulging in useless regrets and imaginary, unreal drawbacks? Surely, as I have fought against trouble and discouragement in the past, I ought not to waver at the ideal fairyland in the future.’