LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXIV, Issue 2450, 11 February 1882, Page 4

LITERATURE.

THE GULLY OF BLUEMANSDYKE. A Teuu Colonial Story, (“ London Society.”) Broadhurst’s store was closed, but the little back room looked very comfortable that night. The lire oust a ruddy glow on ceiling and walls, reflecting itself cheerily on tho poliihod flasks and shot-gun which adorned them. Yet a gloom rested on the two men who sat at either side of tho hearth, which neither tho fire nor tho black bottle upon the table could alleviate. 4 Twelve o’clock,’ said old Tom, the storeman, glancing up at the wooden timepiece which h»d come out with him in ’-12. * It’s a qu :cr thi- g George, they haven’t come.’ ‘lt’s a dirty nigh’,’ said his companion, reaching out his arm for a plug of tobacco. * The Wawirra’s in flood, maybe, or maybe their horses is broke down, or they’ve put it off, perhaps. Great Lord, how it thunders ! Pass ns over a coal, Tom.’ He spoke in a tone which was meant to appear easy, but with a painful thrill in it which was not loot upon bis mate. He glanced uneasily at him from under his grizzled eyebrows. ‘You think it’s all right, George?’ he Sail, after a pause. * Think what’s all right ?’ * Why, that the lads are safe.’ * Oafu ! Of course they’re t-afe. What the devil is to harm them ?’ ‘O, nothing; nothing, to be sure,’ said old i om. 4 Yon, see, George, since the old woman died, Maurice has been all to me; and it mates mo kinder anxious. _ It’s a week since they started from the mine, snd you’d ha’ thought they'd be here now. But It’s nothing unusual, I s’poee ; nothing at til. Just my darned folly.’ ‘ What’s to harm them ?’ repeated George Hutton again, arguing to convince himself rather than his comrade. 4 It’s straight road from the diggin’a to Bathurst, and then through the hills past Bluemausdyke, and over the Wawirra by the ford, and so down to Trafalgar by the bush track. There’s nothin’ deadly in all that, is there ? My son Allan’s as dear to me as Maurice can be to you, mate,’ he continued ; 4 but they know tho ford well, and there’s no other had place. They’ll be here to-morrow night, certain.’

4 Please Gcd they may !’ said Broadhurst; and the two men lapsed into silence for some time, moodily staring into tho glow of the fire, and palling at their short clays. It was indeed, as Hutton had said, a dirty night. The wind was howling down through the gorges of tho western mountains, and •whirling and eddying among the streets of Trafalgar; whistling through the clinks in the rough wood cabins, and tearing away the frail shingles which formed the roof. The streets were deserted save for one or two atragglers from the drinklog shanties, who wrapped their cloaks around them and staggered home through the wind and rain towards their own cab:ns.

The silence was broken by Broadhurst, who was evidently s ill 111 at ease, 4 Say, George,’ he said, 4 what’s become of Josiah Maploton?’ 4 Went to the diggln’s. ’ 4 Ay, and he sent word he was coming hack. ’

‘Bat he never came.' ‘An’ what's become of Jos Humphrey ?’ he resumed, after a pause, * He wont diggin’, too.’ ‘Well, did he come back?’ * Brop it, Broadhurst ; drop it, I say,’ said Hutton, springing to his feet and pacing np and down the narrow room. ‘ You’re trying to make a coward of me ! You know the men mast have gone np country prospectin’ or farmin’ maybe. What is It to us where they went. Yon don’t think I have a register of every man in the colony, as Inspector Burton has of the lags.’ ‘3it down, George, and listen,’ said old Tom. * Thura’a something queer about that road ; something I don’t understand and don’t like. Maybe you remember how Maloney, the cne-eyed scoundrel, mode his mcney in the early mining days. He’d a half-way drinking shanty on the main road up on a kind of bluff, where the Lena comes down from the hills. You’ve heard, George, how they found a sort of wooden slide from his little back room down to the river ; an’ how it came out that msn after man had had his drink doctored, and been shot down that into eternity, like a bale of goods. No one will ever know how many were done away with there. They were all supposed to be farmin’ and prospectin’ and the like, till their bodies were picked out of the rapids. It’s no use mincing maHera, George ; wo’Jl have the troopers along to the diggin’s if those lads don’t turn up to*morrow night.’ ‘ As you like, Tom,’ said Hutton, ‘By the way, talking of Maloney—it’s a strange thing,’ said Broadhurst, ‘that Jack Haldane swears he saw a man as like Maloney with ten years added to him as could be. It was In the bush on Monday morning. Chance, I auppoie ; but jrou’d hardly think there could be two pair of shoulders in the world carrying such villnaous mngs on the top of them.’ ‘ Jack Haldane’s a fool,’ growled Hatton, throwing open the door and peering anxiously out into the darknets, while the wind played with his long grizzled beard, and sent a train of glowing sparks from his pipe down the street.

‘ A terrible night I’ he said, aa ho turned back towards the fire.

‘ Yes. a wild tempestuous night; a night for birds of darkness and for beasts of prey. A strange night for seven men to lie ont In tbs gnlly at Bluemausdyko, with revolvers in their hands and the devil in their hearts.

The snn was rising after the storm. A thick heavy steam reeked up from the saturated ground, and hung like a pall over the flourishing little town of Trafalgar. A bluish mist lay in wreaths over the wide track of bushland around, out of which the western mountains loomed like great islands in a sea of vapor. Something was wrong in the town. The moat casual glance would have detected that. There was a shouting and a hurrying of foet. Doors were slammed and rude windows thrown open. A trooper of poll e came clattering down with hia carbine nualang. It was pnst the time for Joe Buchan’s saw-mill to commence work, but the great wheel was motionless, for the hands had not appeared. There was a surging pushing crowd in the main street before old Tom Broadhurst’s house, and a mighty clattering of tongues. • What was it ?’ demanded the new-comers, panting and breathless. ‘ Broadhurst has shot his mate,' ‘ He has cut his o«u throat.’ ‘Ho has struck gold in the clay floor of hia kitchen.’ ‘No, it was his son Maurice who had come home rich.’ * Who had not coma back at all.’ ' Whose horse had come back without him.’ At last the truth had come out, and there was the old sorrel horse in question whinnying and rubbing his nook against the familiar door of the stable, asjif entreating entoranoe; while two haggard gray-halrod men held him by either bridle and gazed blankly at his reeking side. ‘ God help me,’ said old Tom Broadhurst, ‘it is as I feared 1 ’ ‘ Cheer up, mate,’said Hutton, drawing his rough straw hat down over hia brow. ‘There’s hope yet.’ A sympathetic and encouraging murmur rsa through the crowd. ‘ Gores ran away, likely.’ ‘Or been stolen.’ ‘Or bo’s swam the Wawirra an’ been washed oft',’ suggested one Job’s comforter. ‘ He ain’t got no marks of bruising,’ said another, more hopeful. ‘ .Eider fallen off drunk, maybe,’ said a bluff old sheep farmer. ‘I kin remember,' he continued, ‘ corning into town ’bout this hour myself, with my head in my holster, and’ thinking I was a six chambered revolver—mighty drunk I was.’ ‘ Maurice had a good seat, he’d never be washed of.’ ‘ Not he.’ ’{The horse has a wheal on It’s off forequarter,’ remarked another, more observant than the rest. ‘A blow from a whip maybe.’ * It would be a darned hard one,’ * Where’s Chicago Bill ? ’ said some one ; ‘ he’ll know,’ Thus invoked, a strange gaunt figure stopped out in front of the crowd. He was an extremely tall and powerful man, with tire [rod shirt and high boots of a miner. The shirt was thrown open, showing the sinewy throat and massive chest. His face was seamed and scarred with many a conflict, both with Nature and hia brother man; jot beneath b ■ ruffianly exterior there lay

something of the quiet dignity of the gentle• man. This man was a veteran gold hunter ; a real old Californian ’forty-niner, who had left the field in disgust when private enterprise began to dwindle before the formation of huge incorporated companies with their ponderous machinery. But the red clay with the little shining points had become to him as the very breath of his nostrils, and he had come half way round the world to seek it once again. ‘Here’s Chicago Bill,’ho said; ‘what is

it?’ BUI was naturally regarded as an oraole, in virtue of his prowess and varied expert ence. Every eye was turned on him os Braxton, the young Irish trooper of constabulary said, ‘What do you make of the horse. Bill ? ’ lha Yankee was in no hurry to commit himaelf. Ho surveyed the animal for some time with his shrewd little grey eye. He bent and examined the girths ; then ho felt the mane carefully. He stooped onoo more and examined the hoofs and then the quarters. His eye rested on the blue wheal already mentioned. This seemed to put him on a scent, for he gave a long low whistle, and proceeded at once to examine the hair on either side of the saddle. He saw something conclusive apparently, for, with a sidelong glance under his shaggy eyebrows at the two old nun beside him, he turned and fell back among the crowd. 4 Well, what d’ye think ? ’ cried a dozen voices. 4 A job for you,’ said Bill, looking up at the young Irish trooprr. ‘Why, what is it? What’s become of young Broadhurst ? ’ • He's done what better men baa done afore. He has sunk a shaft for gold and panned out a coffin.’ t ‘Speak out, man ! wbat have you seen? cried a husky voice, t 4 I’ve seen the graze of a bushranger s bullet on the horse’s quarter, an’ I’ve seen a drop of the rider’s blood on the edge of the saddle— Here, hold the old man up, boys, don’t lot him drop. Give him a swig of brandy an’ lead him inslda. Say,’ he omtinutd in a whisper, gripping the trooper by the wrist, 4 mind I’m in it. Yon an’ I play this hand together. I’m dead on sioh varmin. We’ll do as they do in Nevada, strike while tho iron is hot. Get any men you can together. I s’poeo you’re game to come yourself ? ’ 4 Yes, I’ll come,’ aaid young Braxton with a quiet smile. The American looked at him approvingly. Ho had learned in his wanderings that an Irishman who grows quieter when deeply stirred is a very dangerous specimen of tho genus homo, 4 Good lad 1 ’ lie muttered, and the two went down the street together towards the station house, followed by half a dozen of the more resolute of the crowd.

One word before we proceed with our story, or our chronicle rather, as every word of It is based upon fact. The colonial trooper of fifteen or twenty years ago was a very different man from his representative of to day. Not that I would imply any Blur upon the courage of tho latter, but for reckless dare-devilry and knight-errantry the old constabulary has never been equalled. The reason is a simple one. Men of gentle blood, younger eouo and wild rakes who had outrun the constable, wore sent off to Australia with some wild idea of making their fortunes. On arriving they found Melbourne by no means tho El Dorado they expected ; they were unfit for any employment, their money was soon dissipated, and they unerringly gravitated into tho mounted police. Thus a sort of colonial 4 Malaon Kongo ’ became formed, where the lowest private had as much pride of birth and education as his officers. They were man who might have swayed the fate of empires, yet who squandered away their lives in many a lone wild tight with native and bushranger, where nothing but a mouldering blueragged skeleton was left to tell tho tale.

It was a glorious sunset. The whole western sky was a blaze of flame, throwing a purple tint upon the mountains, and gilding the sombre edges of the great forest which spreads between Trafalgar and the river Wawirra. It stretched out, a primeval unbroken wilderness, save at tho one point where a rough track had been formed by the miners and their numerous camp followers. This wound amid the great trunks in a zigzag direction, occasionally making a long detour to avoid some marshy hollow or especially dense clump of vegetation. Often it could be hardly discerned from the ground around save by the scattered hoof marks and occasional rnt.

About fifteen miles from Trafalgar there stands a little knoll, well sheltered and overlooking the road. On this knoll a man was lying as the sna went down that Friday evening. He appeared to shun observation, for he had chosen that part in which the foliage was thickest ; yet he seemed decidedly at his ease, os he lolled upon his back with his pipe between his teeth, and a broad hat down over his face. It was a face that it was well to cover In the presence of BO peaceful a scene—a face pitted with the scars of an immaterial small pox. The forehead was broad and low; one eye had apparently been gouged out, leaving a ghastly cavity; the other was deep-set, canning, and vindictive. The month was hard and crtud • a rough beard covered the obin. It was the cat of the face which, seen In a lonely street, wonld instinctively make one shift the graft of one’s stick from the knob end to the ferrule—the face of a bold and unscrupulous man. Some nnpleaalng thought seemed to occur to him, for he rose with a curse and knocked the ashes out of his pipe. ‘ A darned fine thing,’ he mattered, * that L should have to lie out like this 1 It was Barrett’s fault the job wasn’t a clean one, an’ now he picks me out to get the swamp fever. If he’d shit the horse as I did the man, we wouldn’t need a watch on this side of the Wawirra. He always was a poor white-livered ones. Well,’ he continued, picking up a gun which lay in the grass behind him, 1 there’s no use my waiting longer; they wouldn’t start during the night. Maybe the horse never got home, maybe they gave them up ns drowned ; anyhow it’s another man’s turn to-morrow, so I’ll just give them five minutes and then mike tracks.' He sat down on the stump of a tree as he spoke and hummed the verse of a song. A sudden thought seemed to strike him, for ha plunged his hand into his pocket, and after some searching extracted a pack of playing cards wrapped in a piece of dirty brown paper. He gazed earnestly at their greasy faces for some time. Then he took a pin from his sleeve and prioked a small hole in the corner of each ace and knave. He chuckled aa he shuffled them up, and replaced them In hts pocket. * I’ll have my share of the swag,’ he growled. ‘They’re sharp, but they’ll not spot that when the liquor is in them. By the Lord, hero they are !’ He had sprung to his feet and was bending to the ground, holding hia breath aa he listened. To the unpractised ear all was as still as before—the hum of a pat sing insect the chirp of a bird, the rustle of the leaves; but the bushranger rose with the air of a man who has satisfied himself. ‘Good-bye to Blaemanadyke,' said he; ‘1 reckon it will be too hot to hold ns for a time. That thundering idiot I he’s spoilt ss nice a lay as ever was, an’ risked cur nooks into the bargain. I’ll see their number an’ who they are though,’ he continued ; and, choosing a point where a rough thicket formed an effectual screen, ho colled himself up, and lay like some venomous snake, occasionally raising his head and peering between the trunks at the reddish straak which marked the Trafalgar road. There could be no question now aa to the approach of a body of horsemen. By the time our friend was fairly ensconced in his hiding-place, the sound of voices and the clatter of hoofs was distinctly audible, and in another moment a troop of mounted men came sweeping round tfce curve of the road. They were eleven all told, armed to the teeth, and evidently well on the road. Two rode in front with rifles unslung, leisurely scanning every bnah which might shelter an enemy. The main body kept about fifty yards behind them, while a solitary horseman brought up the rear. Tne ranger scanned them narrowly aa they passed. He seemed to recognise most of them. Some were hla natural enemies the troopers; the majority were miners who had volunteered to get rid of an evil which affected their interests so closely. They were a fine bronzed set of men, with a deliberate air about them, aa it they had come for a purpose and meant to attain it. As the last rider passed before hla hiding-place the solitary watcher started and growled a curse In hia beard. ‘ I know his darned face,’ ho said ; ‘it’s Bill Hanker, the man who got the drop on Long Nat

8 meat on In Silver City In ’53 ; what the thunder brought him here ? I mast be off by the back track, though, nn’ let the boys know.’ So saying he picked np hla gun,and with a scowl after the distant party he crouched down, and passed rapidly and silently out of sight into the very thickest part of the bush.

The expedition had started from Trafalgar on the afternoon of the same day that Maurice Broadhurst’a horse, foam flacked and frightened, had galloped up to the old stable door. Burton, the Inspector of constabulary, an energetic and able man as all who knew him can testify, was lu command. He had detached Braxton, the young Irishman, and Thompson, another trooper, as a vanguard. He himself rode with the main body,[gray-whiskered and lean, but as straight in the back as when he and I built a shanty in ’39 in what is now Burke street, Melbourne. With him were MoGillivray, Foley, and Anson of the Trafalgar force, Hartley the sheep farmer, Murdock and Summerville, who had made their pile at the mines, and Dan Murphy, who was cleaned out when the clay of the Orient turned to gravel, and had been yearning for a solid squire fight ever since. Chicago Bill formed the rear gnard, and ths whole party presented an appearance which, though far from military, was decidedly warlike.

Well, wife, you can’t say I ever contracted bad habits. No, sir, you generally expanded them, Tho only man who is absolutely sure that he is always in the right is tho one who is known to be ignorant and narrow. The Prince of Wales discourages the reporting of his everyday doings in tho public press. He dislikes to be advertised. Don Oarlos does not like the dreary climate and the dull existence of London. He will remain at a fashionable London hotel during the winter.

Aurist to patient : “ We'll see directly what your difficulty of hearing arises from. Can you hear this tick?”—holding out his watch. Lady: 44 N0.” Aurist, holding it nearer: “Now possibly?” Lady: “No.” Aurist, placing the watch closer to tho patient’s ear: “Well, now, at all events?” Lady : “Not a sound.” Aurist : “ Why, you must bo all but stone deaf! _ You surely can’t understand what I’m saying to you ?” Lady: “Indeed I can, I assure you!” Amiit : “ But upon my word—” He looks at his watch, then puts it to his ear. 44 Oh, I bag ten thousand pardons 1 The watch has not been wound np I 1 ’ A venerable divine, who had been dining out the night before, went into a barber’s shop one morning to be shaved. He saw that the barber had been getting more drink than was good for him, for it made his hand shake very much, and, naturally, a little indignant, he began to give him some moral advice by saying, 41 Bad thing, drink.” 44 Yes,” said the barber, “it makes the akin remarkably tender.” Those fastidious people who are c ireful about pronunciations, may find comfort in this anecdote :—Two men disputing about the pronunciation of the word 4 either ’ —one saying It was 4 eo ther,' tho other 4 i-ther ’ — agreed to refer the matter to the first person tdey met, who happened to be an Irishman, and who confounded both by declaring— It’s 4 nsy ther,’ for it’s 4 ayther.’ A Paris correspondent tells the following anecdote of the late Pope Pins IX, : 44 Fanny F.llsler, tho famous dancer, visited Borne in tho earlier years of his p mtifieate. Her admirers wished to give her a present, and opened a subscription, which yielded 2500d01s in forty-eight hours. So they determined to buy her a crown. At the last moment the subscribers feared the Pope might not approve of the project, and an audience was sought to discover his wishes. Ho replied. 4 1 have no permission to give or refuse yon. Still, I must say, I think yon might have made a better choice of a present, for in my priest’s simplicity I have always thought that crowns were for heads and not for legs.’ Tho crown was accordingly presented. Fanny, however, had heard of the Pope’s reply, and gave 2300 iols (the value of the crown) to priests to distribute In charity. The Pope heard of her conduct, and meeting a few days afterwards one of the subscribers, he said— 4 You acted wisely to give a crown to that woman ; for she has shown that she has more good sense in her legi than you all in your heads.’ ” Mr Gladstone sleeps well, and is in good health and spirits. Hia breakfast hour is half-past nine. He works without a secretary until lunch time, after which he enjoys a long walk, taking the banks with ease. After five o’clock tea he works until shortly after seven, and goes to dinner at eight. Mr Edmund Yates says that Mr Gladstone, though excitable, has always been buoyant, that he is as much so now as he ever was, that ho is far from being a coward, and that he will die in harness. It is stated that the Alhambra, London, on re-opening will be lighted by electricity. Harry Jackson was to have gone to New York to supervise tho production of “ The Lights of London,” but was prevented by ill health. It is reported that Mr J. L. Toole, the popular actor, and friend of tho Prince of Wales, has been gazetted a Companion of the Order of St. Michael and St. George. (To be continued )