LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume IV, Issue 407, 1 October 1875, Page 4

LITERATURE.

A CUT IN THE DARK

“ I’ve been about a bit in my time, sir, sure enough,” says our second officer, as we look down over the rail of the “lookout bridge,” upon the floating masses of weed that dappled the smooth surface of the Sargasso Sea; “and I’ve had some queer adventures, too. If you care to hear one as a sample (as there’s a quarter of an hour or so left of my watch on deck), I’ll give it you. “It’s a good many years ago now since I was at Victoria (in Australia, you know), and, of course, like everybody else, I must try my luck at the diggings. You may think it a queer thing for a fellow to be .a digger and sailor turn about; but that happens oftener than you’d think, too. Rut in those days it was rough work, I can tell you. There were no railway or beaten roads then ; just a cattle-mark through the bush, and everything to be carried by waggons, in some places through mud up to the very axle. We used to travel in great gangs then, just like a caravan going through the desert; so that if Jack got stuck fast, Tom, and Jim, and Sam would come up and lug him out; and if eight oxen couldn’t drag a load through, they’s harness three eights to it but they’d do it somehow. In those days I’ve known carriage go as high as £l2O a ton ; and a ton was sometimes just about as much as two horses could manage over such a mashed potatoe kind of soil as they had of it up country. “ Then, you see, this travelling in gangs told another way ; it was a sort of security against being bailed up (robbed) by the bushrangers, who were about, then, as thick as beetles in a sugar-cask. Nowadays, of course, it’s a different thing ; but in my time, if a fellow went up-country by himself, or only two or three with him, he was pretty safe to have to say a word or two to Frank Gardiner on the road. ”

“ Frank Gardiner ! was he there then ? I know his name well enough. A friend of mine got cleaned out by him, two day’s march from the nearest township; and he begged for just enough to keep him when he got in. So Gardiner handed him back £3, and filled his ’baccy pouch for him into the bargain.” “ Ay, that’s Frank all over ; he was very fond of that style. I remember hearing of a lady that begged hard to be allowed to ransom her watch, because her husband’s miniature was in the back of it; when what does Mr Frank do but hand it back to her, free gratis for nothing, saying, ‘it should never be sa'd that Gardiner ever gave a lady any cause of distress.’ And, d’ye see, that was a wide-awake game of his, too ; for when he did get cotched (as he did at last, sure enough, for he was captured in 18G4, and sentenced to thirty years’ penal servitude), then a lot of those folk that he’d been civil to spoke up for him, and said he warn’t as black as he was painted, “But for all that, it wasn’t bad fun in those days—for them at least that could rough it, and didn’t want hot water and blacked boots every morning. You just brought a sack of Hour with you, and a small crsk of whisky, or mayhap a chest of tea (tea’s a great stand-by in the bush), and there you were independent of both baker and bar keeper so long as your stock held out. As for meat, it wasn’t so dear as you’d think—many’s the time I’ve bought a pound for threepence. And after a hard day’s work, when you’d got into dry things, and shoved a good allowance of damper and mutton down your throat, with a glass or two of grog to send it down, and you lay by the fire on your blanket, smoking your pipe, why, you wouldn’t call the Emperor of Rooshia your father ! “My mate was a young gentleman from Trinity College, Dublin, and a right good fellow he was. I never knew how he came to that pass, for he was pretty close about his past life, as most of the class are; but I suppose he’d just fooled away his money like many another, and then had to shift for himself. Birt, for all that, he could do a day’s work with any man out; and instead of being down in the mouth whenever anything went wrong, or grumbling and grunting because everything wasn’t like a London hotel, he was always whistling and singing over his work, and laughing, and cracking jokes, it was quite a treat to see him. It used to be great fun for me sometimes, when the day’s work was done, and we were having our pipes by the fire, to make him chalk my name on a log in Greek, or spout me a bit of Homer or some of those old chaps—for all the education I ever got was a very different sort, and I don’t know B from a bull’s foot in either Greek or Latin.

“But what I liked best was hearing him sing, for he had a fine clear pipe of his own ; and he wrote his own songs, too, he did—words and music and all. There was one I liked specially, because it was just my own way of thinking put into words, and it went to the tune of ‘l’ll hang my Harp on a Willow-tree.’ I made him give me a copy, and here it is ;

‘ “ This world is a good one in its way If you but take it fair; Whenever the sun shines, make your hay, And laugh at sorrow and care. And what if at times the sky turns black,

And down comes pelting rain ? J ust wait, and you’ll see the sun come back, And all will go right again ! “ Wherever we go, there is work to be done, Then do it, and never say die ; There isn’t a thing beneath the sun That’s worth a whine or a sigh. So never you fret when things go wrong, For it’s useless to complain ; Just set your teeth, and hammer along, Till all comes right again I’ “ Well, we worked together, him and me, for a spell of four months or so, and did pretty well, take one day with another—nothing very tremendous, but quite enough to keep our pipes alight. At last, one fine day, we happened on a nice rich pocket, and made a very tidy haul, and the news of it got about (rolling up as it went, as a story always does) till we got the name of being lucky uns. And that, mark ye, is just about the worst name you can get at the diggings ; for if a fellow’s overburdened with money there, there are always plenty of kind Christians to relieve him of it, and, if he don’t see it in their way, to let light into his understanding with a big knife. But as the thing was done, why, it couldn’t be helped ; and the only thing then was to change the best part of our gold into notes of the Sydney Bank, and carry them always pbout US'

“Well, sir, just about this time I noticed three fellows loafing about, whom I had’nt seen before ; for, you see, this gully of ours was a small place at best, with not many in it, so that you could spot a new face directly. They weren’t quite the sort you’d have liked to meet out on the loose after dark, a good way from any house, that’s a fact. One was a long, skinny, black-haired fellow, with a complexion like a bad cucumber, whom I took to be a Greek ; the second was a tall, bony, sly-looking Yankee, with » vicious look in the corner of his eye ; and the third was a great, hulking, red-headed beast, with a broken nose and one eye, precious like a lag (convict) —which was just what he was, as I afterwards found out. They planted their tent not very far from ours, and tried to scrape acquaintance with us a bit ; blit I kept as clear of them as I could, and warned my mate to do the same; not that he needed much warning, for he liked the cut of their jibs as little as I did. “ However, it’s not very easy to be standoffish at the diggings, especially if you’re naturally fond of company, like me ; and by dint of doing us little turns every now and then, and always having plenty of liquor going, these three beauties managed to get pretty thick with us at last. The Yankee and the Englishman had a hail-fellow-well met away with ’em that rather took my mate and me too, after a bit; but I never could quite fancy the Greek. For, d’ye see, I’d had a taste of their quality up the Levant, and was quite of the same mind as the old saying : ‘ The Greek wines steal all heads, the Greek women steal all hearts, and the Greek men steal everything. , “ Well, it happened one day that I was left alone in the tent (my partner had gone to meet some stores that were coming up from the township for iis), when up comes this big red-haired chap, and asks mo to come over in the evening and have a glass of grog with him and his pals. It was a murdering hot day, and the very mention of grog made me lick my lips like a dog in front of a butcher’s shop ; besides, there was nothing in our tent worth taking, and even if there had been, I knew I should be back again long before dark ; so, as you may suppose, the short and the long of it was—that I went! I found the three beauties sitting at their tent-door, seeming to have knocked off' work pretty early. For at the diggings, you see, one don’t find many watches about ; a fellow just looks up at the sun and says, ‘ Must be towards noon—l’ll have a bite of summit !’ or else, ‘ Sun’s only a foot high now—time to knock off!’ You never heard 'anything of half-hours or quarter-hours among us—not you ! To he continued.