A NEW YEAR'S GIFT.

Cromwell Argus, Volume IV, Issue 167, 21 January 1873, Page 6

A NEW YEAR'S GIFT.

The tiro is bright, the billy's on ; Come, mates, and listen to my rhymes : A story that is past and gone About those rough old digging times. My story opens on a beautiful summer night on the first of January 1863 : scene, that well-known haunt of bushrangers in the early gold-hunting era, the Black Forest of Victoria. Two young and stalwart men were briskly walking along the road to Melbourne. They had been engaged in gold digging at Forest Creek and other places, and had met with a very fair share of success. They each carried, as all diggers did in those days, a light swag, and the tailor of the two had a valuable double-barrelled fowling-piece slung at his back. '' And wliat do you purpose doing, George, when I shall have sailed for the old country 1 Can't you make up your mind to come with me ?" said he to his companion. " I can hardly say at present, Harry. Probably I shall buy an interest in some business or another, and settle down into a steady colonist. Unlike you, I have no one waiting for me ' across the herring pond' with open arms, and therefore, much as 1 regret our inevitalbe separation, I fear it would only be a waste of time and money to accompany you." "Well, George, all that I can say is, that I shall be sorry to leave you behind after so many months of jolly companionship, and if ever anything would induce me to revisit the antipodes, it would be to get a glimpse of your honest old mug once more." And so on they trudged, beguiling the lonely walk with similar friendly chat. They had chosen the night-time for walking, as the days were very sultry and oppressive at that season; and they were putting their "best feet forward," hoping to reach Melbourne on the third day from date. The one addressed as Harry was on his way home to England with a view to take up a small property which had fallen to him by the decease of a relative ; and to fulfil an engagement to a young lady whose prudent parents had refused to sanction the marriage until Harry had secured a certain means of subsistence. Hence his trip to Victoria and its gold-fields. He had been successful beyond his most sanguine hopes, and his spirits rose as he paced the dreary bush road, knowing that each step brought him nearer the consummation of his happiness. " I shouldn't like to be condemned to carry this gold about with me for the rest of my natuia" life," said George; "it feels contour: - | dedly awkward." He alluded to about four S pounds weight of the precious metal, comj posed principally of nuggets they had selected from their various finds, which he carried, in I what was called a gold-belt, round his waist, I under the red shirt he wore. | " I will give you a lift by-and-bye," returned Harry, "but in the meantime, the ! less said about gold the better; for who knows if Black Douglas, or some of his crowd, mav not be within earshot in the scrub." He little thought what need there w r as for the caution. About half-an-hour had passed since this conversation, and they Lad just crossed a small gully, near where the "Middle Stump" Hotel now stands: the road here was narrow, and enclosed by dense forest on either side ; when suddenly a harsh and imperious voice ordered them to "Bail up!" Looking up the slight ascent before them, they saw a big burly figure in the middle of j the track, covering them with a gun held to his shoulder. Harry immediately unslung his piece, with the remark that two could play at that game, and was about to present, when another hoarse voice issued from the brush-wood, about six paces to the right, and said,

" Drop that 'ere, or you're a dead man." ' Looking to the left, another glitle-ing barrel was protruded, and, concluding from the aspect of affairs that they had fallen in with a gang of armed bushrangers, who evi- 1 dently outnumbered them, Harry prudently decided that discretion, under the circumstances, would be the better part of valour ; and so grounded arms. The tall bushranger in front then advanced and ordered them to throw up their arms ; and two others emerged from the bush on either side, standing as sentinels over them while the leader made a search. Probably much rractice had made him expert, as he performed his office expeditiously, and with a wonderful intuition as as to the whereabouts of valuable property. Poor George's gold-belt was at once appropriated, and Harry's pocket-book,—he was cashier.—containing about 30 sovereigns, next rewarded the inquisition. "See if there's any 'ridge' in the swags, Joe," said the leader to one of his mates ; but as nothing but two changes of clothing rewarded his search, he tossed them aside with a grunt of disapproval. "Now, boys, you can move on, and make room for the next couple," the robber said, facetiously ; " and as 1 don't want to behave shabby, here's five 'couter'to carry you to town, and don't forget to drink my'hcalth when you get there." The whole affair had been so sudden, and was so quickly completed, that both the unlucky travellers were, vulgarly speaking, quite "flabbergasted" ; and Harry, mechanically accepting the five sovereigns, was about to "move on" as requested, when the bushranger addressed as " Joe," cried, "Stop a bit, mate. Let's have a look at that piece o' yourn." Taking his gun, he examined it. "This is just the shootin' iron I bin looking arter, hever so long ; and hexchange arn't no rob- ' beiy, so you take this 'un ; it hain't bin much

used ; I on'y got 'un to-day. And now vamose, and I wishes you better luck next time." The two young men, being anxious to get rid of company with such free and easy notions and taking ways, needed no further bidding to put a few miles between them, and set ofl' at a good pace. When out of hearing, Harry burst out into a hearty laugh, and exclaimed, "Well, George, we only wanted this adventure to crown our Colonial experiences ; and Ave ought to be thankful it is no more. It is lucky the bulk of our gold was sent to Melbourne, or my chance of " England, home and beauty" would have been indefinitely postponed. " I don't see anything to laugh at," replied George, with a rueful countenance. '' lam crabbed about the nuggets, not for their intrinsic value, but I intended most of mine as presents to old friends and acquaintances. Hang all bushrangers ! say I." " With all my heart," said Harry ; "and probably they may some day get their deserts. As you correctly remark, there is nothing to laugh at in the matter ; and when I reflect, I am rather vexed about losing my 'Manton.' I brought it from Home, as you j know, and I fully intended to lay many a head (of game) low with it when I got back to dear old Westmoreland. Ah, well ! 1 shall take this one home in its place as a memento of the last New Year's Day spent in Victoria. I wonder if it is loaded." He dropped the ramrod into both barrels, and found that they seemingly were very heavily charged. " 1 must draw these," he remarked, "on the first opportunity. That pleasant scoundrel, Joe, had little regard for his shoulder if he intended to discharge them." Little of note occurred during the remainder of the journey. They reached Melbourne in safety, and found that the good ship Golden Land was to sail in two days for Liverpool ; and as our friend Harry determined to take advantage of this lucky chance, the time was very scant for the necessary arrangements. The gold was withdrawn from the Treasury, and the two friends divided their earnings, which, as I before mentioned, were very considerable. They spent the last night together, pledging mutual friendship and esteem, and on the following day George accompanied his friend to the ship, and fimxlly waved an adieu from the deck of the steamer ; which conveyed him back to town, with a very heavy heart. They had previously decided that as the bushrangers were masked, it would be! difficult ever to identify them, and so refrained from mentioning the matter to the police. Indeed, " sticking-up" was so common in those days, that the inconvenience was generally accepted as a matter of course. George followed up his original intention : went into business, and had comfortably settled into the new groove : when about eight months after Harry had sailed, he received a letter from him informing him of his marriage and consequent happiness. ! " And I have also a very startling fact to j communicate, old boy," ho wrote. "You! remember the gun that rascal Joe exchanged with me in the Black Forest on that eventful; New Year's night. Well, in the hurry of leaving, I put it into the case which had belonged to my own, without drawing the charges. I never had it out during the voyage ; and in fact, until a month ago, had nearly forgotten its existence. I was relating the history of our rencontre with the ; Australian brigands to my father-in-law and a few guests. They expressed a wish to see the gun. I sent for it, and it was brought in, i case and all, just as I took it on board with I me. Unlocking the case, I took out the | piece ; and remembering that it was loaded, I thought it safer to draw the charges before handing it to my friends. I did so, and guess my astonishment to discovur that it was loaded with.—what do you think I — banknotes ! Out they came like ribbons from a

nonjuror's mouth ; tens .and twenties, to the tune of £BSO ! Truly, as that villain Joe facetiously remarked, ' hexchange aren't no robbery.' " He went on further to state that lie forwarded the numbers, and if George failed to find an owner in three months, he would remit him half the spoil. No owner ever was found, and the money was appropriated as proposed. It is probable | that some unfortunate had been stuck up, and his gun, into which he had rammed his money for safety, taken from him ; but what became of him afterwards, Heaven only knows. Perhaps he was murdered : such things were then rife. Judging from the columns of the Melbourne Argus at that time, it might have been conjectured that the " undiscovered bourne from whence no traveller returns" had come to light: the list of " missing friends" was something dreadful to contemplate. Mow, my friends, I have finished my yarn ; crude and unvarnished, doubtless ; but nevertheless true : and possibly this is the only instance of a bushranger being outwitted in the Black Forest, and innocently bestowing a "New Year's Gift" on his clients. Hatter.