A STORY OF THE EARLY DAYS OF THE OTAGO GOLDFIELDS.
By William Baldwin.
! Chapteb XIII.-— THnras cdl&tE to x '""" i ■'■' Gris¥s : It Lalst: 1 "' '
Young' anil; Tim Dwf er ' returned to Waitahuna about the first week in October, and thenceforward things began to take a turn very much for the better as regards Tom's comfort and peace of mind. , For one thing, there was no more jumping now in the gully, none worth speaking f pf, at least, seeing that that gan» of" fellows who had caused all this kind of trouble had been discomfited and put utterly to rout in the manner hereinbefore described. Besides this, Fitzherbert's assumption of his own duties made a very perceptible difference in Tom's work, .enabling him to have a little breathing time to himself during the day, instead of being worked off his legs as formerly. Then, 1 o ">, there were something like habitable quarters being put up in the camp, in lieu of of those flimsy tents ; so that, altogether as I said, things began to assume a brighter aspect ; and the life began to become more endurable, and the bright warm October \ days seemed all the more warm and pleasant in Tom's eyes. - He had a little difficulty, too, on his hands ."with Tim Dwyer, about this time, and this difficulty had been got over satisfactorily • — that is to say, he had had his own way in the matter, and was of course satisfied. It .was about the -bailiffship of the district, -that this little difficulty arose between himself and Tim. He wanted Tim.to accept the bailiffship, urging him to do so, but Tim had refused to accept it, had refused positively and at once to have anything whatsoever to say to it. Tom had never known him to be so positive and obstinate before in his life. And his behaviour was all the more aggravating, because the appointment was really a good one. A comfortable well paid appointment, and certainly beyond what could have been expected by a man in Tim's position ; but no ; he had his prejudices, and for somo time would have nothing to say to it. Tim when he first heard of Tom Hungerford's appointment, which he did through the Fitzherberts, had hurried away back with them at once to Waitahuna. Indeed, once he had heard of it, he begrudged every moment until he got there, assured as he was in his own mind, that his presence was absolutely and indispensably necessary for Tom's comfort, and not only for his comfort, but for his safety. He felt assured and morally satisfied that Tom could never get on without him ; that without Ms presence and supervising care the young fellow would be getting himself into all sorts very likely. So he posted off fortwitfi for Waitahuna. His arrival brought up this bailiffship question. Tom wanted a bailiff just then, and he made up bis mind it was just the very thin? to suit Tim, so he casually referred to it a day or two after the latter's arrival ; casually and with some caution, knowing full well that Tim, like most of bis countrymen, bad strong prejudices of his own about the matter, and must be approached very carefully. Tim certainly had very strong objections about the' matter ; entertaining at heart a- feeling, of thorough dislike for everything and every person 1 connected with law, more especially for policemen and bailiffs. Policemen and bailiffs were the natural enemies of himself and his countrymen ; but in his mind be drew a line of distinction between the two. He disliked a policemen, but he utterly loathed and abhorred a bailiff. He looked upon a policeman as the natural foe of ail IrisYmen, a badge of his country's degradation ; and us such he ou«;ht to be resisted, determinedly resisted on every possible occasion j. but to his way of thinking, the man was an open foe, and the resistance ought to be offered openly and in the light of day. He believed in a fair honest stand-up figttt with a policeman, and for himself would desire no better sport;. but to satisfy him," it ought to be honest and above board.
T3ut a Bailiff! who ever heard of a bailiff's deserving anything in the way of fair play. Eair-play indeed ! wasn't he the curse of the country, a devourer of the substance of thewidowand theorphan,the active agent of all evictions. Show fair play to, such a low cunning stealthy vermin as that ! Not he ; lie would -hunt liitii *to the - earth ' as he would a fox. They were both 'pests ; and as such, mi<?ht be lawfully tracked, circumvented and destroyed by. every possible aiid impossible' device, "stratagems and eunnimy-.- -This was the way he thought ql bailiffs, and so- thinking, it was- no easyiask Tom undertook, you must admit, "when he sought to obtain his acquiescence 'to' the", acceptance of-thia bailifFship. •* Yurrah, - thin Misther- Tom," ho had' said, in tones of utter atnazemftnt, when the proposal was first made to him, "it isn't in earnest; ,you arc. Shure you wouldn't 'ask me to demean mysilf by taking the likes of that."
"But I do ask you, Tim, and there's nothing in it 'demeaning. Do you think I'd let yo"_iake_it if you were demeaning yourself by doiu<r so, let aWe^ekyga-UkW^ remember that a bailiff out here, and a
bailiff at home, are two different things altogether," arid then he proceeded to explain fully wherein these differences lay, "and there's the salary of two Hundred pounds a year, and yoU know well enough two hundred a year "is, not ao easily picked up out, here,,"
" Sdrra a bit of me cares about the money Misfcber Tom, if a 1 man can't come by it honestly. And how can a man. come-by- it, honestly as is, a bail,iff. Bad luck to all of 'em for bailiff's, and bad luck to' nie. too, if i'll have anything to say to 'em." • " Now look here,.Tim, just be guided by me," said Tom, beginning to get vexed at the man's obstinacy, and showing his vexation in his words and ways. " Don't you let those . absurd childish notions you have got into your head about bailiffs stand ' between you and this appointment. You'll never again in your life have such another chance, mind that, never again. And besides "—" — , ' " Don't you go on asking me, Misther Tom," interrupted his listener, in pleading tones of the deepest entreaty. " Don't now thin agrah, for I can't do it, I can't indeed. Ask me to do anything else in the world for you, arid I'll do it willingly. Shure G-od knows there's not a drop of blood in my body I wouldn't shed for you or any of your name, and isn't it to the end of the world I'd go to plase you, but don't ask me to be a bailiff, Mister Tom. Don't ask me now. Shure its' neither luck. nor, grace attinds thim bailiffs, nor any one as belongs to 'em Look at Micky Hoola'iah the blagard of the world. SHure didn't Father .Power himself, — may 'the heavens be his bed — deny him- extreme unction. And there's Jack Leary — you minds Jack Leary, doesn't you, Mistber Tom ?— Shawn Duv as we used to call him — shure did'nt the divil himself— G-od between us and ham —snatch away his corpse out "of the coffin, in the dead of night, lavin' the people half dead of •fright a screechin' out milh murther. Don't ask me, Misther Tom. Don't now thin agrah. For the love of the holy Virgin don't." And he threw an appealing look at Tom as he spoke, and took up his hat in his hand, and shifted about uneasily on his feet, and showed unmistakably that he wished he were well out of the room and t'ne interview brought to a close. Nothing further was said about the matter at the time, nothing beyond this that as Tim was taking his departure, Torn suggested that he could turn the matter quietly over in his mind, between then and the morrow, wheu he hoped he would come to think better of it. Onthe morrow Tom had him in a»ain. and spoke to him for half an hour at least, striving as far as in him lay by word and argument, to combat his prejudice,- but all to no. purpose, Titn was [as firm as ever in his refusal. Tom was growing angry, and doeided lie wnuM,t««>«WiQ-i»iMXJ.ui£uo further in the umiter; but as a last resource he pointed out that, of course, Tim could i not continue to remain in idleness, and must prepare to go back to the station at once. Had he consented to accept this appointment, things would have been different, but there was no use talking about that now. He had declined to do so, and there was an end [of it. Then he acquiesced in the- arrangement, but very reluctantly evan then, and not without something yery like reproach in his. words ,.of v acquiescence. , - ( " Well, sooner than lave ye all alone by, yourself, I'll take it, Misther Tom. Only I niver thought I'd see the day as. a Dwyer 'ud demean himself to be a bailiff. But it's for your sake I takes it, and who knows may be the sin'll be forgiven me here and hereafter." But though, on the whole things had taken a decided turn for the better, as regards Tom Hungerford's comfovt and peace of mind, you must not therefore infer that his position " was as yet wholly comfortable. There w;is too much rowdyism in the place for that ; and latterly this rowdyism bad gone to such lengths as to become a matter of serious " uneasiness to himself aud others.
The-Jiambing Flat men were principally if not entirely to blame for it. These fellows had been all more or leas concerned in that Lambing Flat business, had been more or less implicated in those riotous proceeding over there, when the- Chinamen were so maltreated, and the authorities terrified out of their lives, and the very camp itself was beaeiged ; and now that they had dome over to New Zealand they thought, no doubt, to themselves they would try on the same game here. At any rate they acted as if they thought so, and were becoming very troublesdme to Tom and the police— but more especially to the police, whom they opposed, openly and persistently, "opposed on every possible occasion. A.ltoge.thei', the police had a very hard time of it amongst the fellows ; having 'been very roughly handled and shame' 'fully maltreated in the frequent skirmishes that, on divers occasions, had taken place between them and the Lambing Flat men. These skirmishes were now becoming more and more frequent, were become, at the timj 1 am alluding to, matters of daily occurrence, and things had arrived at thit pass, < that respectable men gravely aljook their heads, speaking of another lumhing flat .business as nigh at hand, and very nigh atjiaud too, unless these fellows* were brought to their senses — and that at once. So when -one Sun day afiernooD, a man come running
up to' Tom and young Fttzherbert who were enjoying a quiet stroll amongst- the ranges, and told them that the camp was attacked or about to be attacked.' fpr the foment the news took them both thoroughly aback, after, all it was nothing more than they might have expected under existing circumstances. They bqth rushed away hack,. as quickly as 1 ever they could, and sure enough, things looked very much as if the* camp was about to be attacked — that is to aay, there was a crowd of some two thousand fellows' collected together there, very riotously disposed, shouting and yelling and taunting the police, who were were drawn up opposite them, in front of the lock-up, with fixed bayonets, under the charge of Sergeant Major O'Hara. A derisive cheer was raised by the crowd, as the two young fellows came running up, but they pushed on, unheeding the cheer, until they came within speaking distance of the Sergeant-Major. Then Tom asked him the cause of the disturbance, gasping out his words breathlessly.
" They have been trying to rescue some drunken men from us, sir," answered the Sergeant-Major ; " and they have knocked us about, pelting us with mud and stones, and shamefully illused us. Just look at the way they have ill-used us."
Torn did look at the men antr saw, could not help seeing, that they had been ill-used ; bearing about them very plainly as they did, the outward marks x of the ill-usage. "And now," continued the SergeantMajor, " they talk of rescuing the men out of the lock-up, in spite of us ; but they'll have to walk over our dead bodies first," and then he muttered to himself something sii^nifyin^ that he ouly hoped that they would try it, adding' something to the effect that he would desire nothing better than to <fet the chance of shooting them down, like rabbits. He was an impulsive overbearing fellow this O'Hara, capable of any act of rashness ; and was very unpopular amongst the miners ; a man easily aroused at the best of times, but just now well nigh beside himself with rage. In his present state of mind, Tom could see he was uot fit to be consulted, and so without further words he left him, moving over towards the crowd. He moved over towards the crowd, walking slowly and thinking to himself the while how lie might best bear himself in the emergent. As far as he could see there was but one course open to him. Ho must bear himself firmly, firmly but quietly showing the men by his manner that he was not in the slightest degree afraid of them, and giviug them clearly to understand they must betake themselves away from the camp at once, or take the consequences. Some' of the fellows there, he felt quite certain would i\r>b go away. A thought struck him. What it'll© oouia'so mauage it as to persuade the more impeccable port.iun. of the crowd to withdraw altogether, leaving him face to face with these Lambing Flagmen. Nothing he should like better than to get at some of these fellows, if only it were possible, and make an example of them. Possibly something might turn up ; at all events his proper course was to get the peaceful and respectable men in the .crowd to withdraw, and this done, he must act according to cireuinsLanees. These were the thoughts that passed through :his mind as he moved slowly towards the crowd, ar»d his mind was fully made up as to what he should do, when he paused in front' of the men.
" What do you want ?" lie risked of them, very quietly. His question was answered by a chorus ot voices.
" We wants to get at that O'Hara, and we'll jrefc at him too." " We'll have his lifes blood." "He drawed his sword on us in cold blood the villain." "We wants them 'ere prisoners. They did uo harm. Let 'em out and we will go quietly away."
" I'll do nothing of the kind, and you know very well I won't. You have told me what you waut, now let me tell you what I want, and what I'll- have. I want you to move off this camp at once, ■ every one of you. Afc once mind. I'll give you ive minutes to leave it, and anybody that's on it when the five minutes are up, I'll have him arrested." The^ announcement was received with a laugh of derision,.
"To the devil we pitches you, you and your police."
Tom proceeded to put his plan into execution.
" I am surprised fco see you aDrl you and you here," he continued, addressing some dozen of the men he knew by name. " I atn really surprised to see respectable men like you lending yourselves to such a disgraceful proceeding; as this. Do you think it is any credit to •you to be mixed up in a thing of this kind? I am surprised that you should allow youraelvea to bo led> away' by a lot of rowdy fellows who hwc iiofchincj of their ovvn to lose, anl are leading yuu into' trouble. Now just ta'ce my advice, you and the other respectable men I see around here, go homo quietly More wor^e comes of it — for worse will come, of, it — you take my word for tVif." The words had evidently some effect on the men nasnod, and after a JiU.lt'j Tom could see thtm withdrawing from the crowd, The cro-.vd was beginnimr to cool .down by this time — that is to say, the more respectable portion of the 'crowd were beginning to fco do so, were beginning too to think that Tooi was ri«fhfc when he said that there was no credit in being mixed up
in a rowdy proceeding of this kind, and so by degrees they moved off slowly towards the township. Tim Dwyer, too, had been hard at work amongst the mob — be and his friend, the big Connemara man. Tim and the Connemara man exercised some considerable influence amongst their countrymen, particularly the Conne- . ( mara man, who was a sort of leader amongst them; and they were both hard at work now bringing this influence of theirs to bear upon the Irishmen present. They had hard work of it, the two of them, we may be pretty sure of that ; and they must have both used their time, and influence, and persuasion to some purpose to get the Irishmen to consent to stand aloof from thb row ; but they did get them to consent, and what was more, got them to promise that when the row did commence they would rush into Tom's assistance, bearing him off scatheless, whilst the mob and the police fought it out amongst them. This he afterwards learnt was the arrangement come to, but my own impression is, if anything in the shape of a row had taken place, any arrangement of the kind would have been thrown to the winds by these hotI headed fellows. I verily believe nothing in the world would have kept them from having a hand in it; no, not if there were fifty Tims and fifty Connemara men amongst them. However, the defection of the Irish and of these other men caused the mob to dwindle "down by that time to four or five hundred, and though still formidable as regards numbers, in reality the mob was not formidable. The Lambing Flat men iie^pt i on ..encouraging them, it is true, by word, and voice, and example, to stand firn^sfeut Tom could plainly .see thejo^fe'p"ojL^rtny tli at, on theTotrfcrWy/fliey were^b.e^inj, ning to lase-confMi^e^iT^^^e'lVes, wavering? ia» -tiucuV purpose;' This, he Hvas £he proper time for action, and accordingly he stepped across to O'Hara.;, ;• ' " We must make an example of some of these fellows, O'Hara," he whispered, M and now is the time. Be ready with half of your best men. I'll go across and speak to them again, and when I say 'Very well,' rush on them, and pick out the ringleaders. I don't | think they'll show fight." "Well," said Tom, addressing the mob, " are you going to leave the camp, or are you not? The five minutes are just up, and you had better get away as quickly as you can." "To h—lh — 1 with the Commissioner! To h—lh — 1 with the police ! Hurrah for Lambing Flat ! " shouted an answering voice. " Very well," said Tom ; and no sooner bad lie said the words than O'Hara and bis men rushed in upon the mob, and' the mob — well, the mob fled — fled incontinently, pursued by i the whole body .of police. Eighteen of 1 the ringleader? were made prisoners, and thenceforward there was peace •» the gully. After that Sunday evening's work. Tim Dwyer and the Connemara man, to whom passing reference has been made j more than once in these pages, became warm friends. Tim was one of those fellows who never forgot a good turn ; not unfrequently seeing more of goodness in so called turns of the kind than they actually possessed, and feeling proportionately more grateful than the occasion that called forth the gratitude required. Warm-hearted, impulsive, good-natured people allow themselves very often to be carried away by feelings of the kind, and Tim was all three. At all events, he felt very ffratoful to the Cnnnemara tnau for the friendly part he had taken in that evening's work, telling himself that the man had proved himself a good friend in the hour of need ; so he showed ■ his* gratitude in every way he could, and spent most of his spare evenings with him. " Will you want me any more tonight, Misther Tom ? " he asked one evening about a week after the disturbance. " No, Tim, I shan't want you tonight. Where do you want to go ? " "Wisha, just down to Mickey Murphy's." Mickey Murphy was the Connemara man. "All right Tim. Mind you two 'keep away from those public houses." " Public houses is it. \ Ay coorse I will, Misther Tom. Shure haven't you made a bailiff of me, aud it is detuaning the situatiqu I'd be byf going to the publics. Divil a fear of me doing the likes of that, Misther Tom." There was a humorous twinkle ' in his eye, though his tones had in them just a shade of reproach, for* he had not as yet quite reconciled himself to the bailiffship. I am sorry to say though he did not adhere to his promise on this occasion. Indeed, if the truth were known, he and his friend Mickey Ivljirphy seldom let an evening pass without betaking themselves, to som« public houso or another ; and on this particular evening, Tim — after a .slight show of resistance — allowed himself to be persuaded by Mickey Murphy into visiting those forbidden haunts. "Begor, Mick, Idursn'tgo, in troth I dursn't. Shure. I took my Bible Loath to Misther Tom. I did, indeed, I wouldn't put my head inside a public this blessed night, and shure you wouldn't have me brake my word," he had said to his friend when the latter had referred to the matter. "Oh, yeh, wisha niver you mind Misther Toro. Shure it isn't the likes of him as 'ud stand in the way of a boy's innocent divarsion, Where's
the barm in having a little innocent divarsion, I'd like to know. Just come along to the Golden Age, Tim, and have a small taste of somethin'. We won't be away a jiffey. Come along." Mick Murphy had answered with something of craft in his words. So they both betook themselves to the • bar of the Q-olden Age J^itering about there for twenty minutes or half an hour, drinking and chatting with such acquaintances as happened ,to be about the place at the time ; and from the bar they dropped into the saloon, a large room close by, where there was some music and dancing going on. They sat down in the room watching the performance, highly delighted with it, and expressing their delight by clapping their hands and stamping their feet very loudly. Heaven knows one would think there was very little there to delight anybody. The music was simply excruciating, and the dancing was of a ver) free and easy character ; so much so indeed that most persons would have spoken of it as actually indecent. The way these three or four women were pulled and mauled about the room by their half drunken partners to the tune of a discordant fiddle, certainly did border very closely on indecency ; but, as I have said, Tim and the Connemara man, and the other lookers on were highly delighted, and this being so, doubtless it matters not what we may think about the matter. The women themselves appeared perfectly indifferent. They went there to be mauled and pulled about, and if anything, I think they enjoyed it — enjoyed the excitement: They were such brazen faoed-women, so bold and impudent, and animal looking, and scantily dressed, scantily and tawdrily, a^d bearing about them not one single Tirace of the softness of womanhood ; nor anything, in fact, to remind you of a woman, but the outward form. And they were such hard, vulgar, repulsive creatures too, using the very coarsest words they could think of in their conversation, and saying what they hud to say in loud tones, and in the harsh hoarse voices that comes, as a rule, to be part and parcel of women who have become — well become, no better than they should be. Presently one of tliem came over and sat herself down in a vacant seat beside Tiru, looking very hot and weary and jaded. The poor creature, she's half dead, he thought to himself, his sympathy and compassion excited on her behalf.
"Yirrah, thin it's tired you looks, my dear," he said addr.egsing the woman, and giving expression to the feelings " passing through his mind. " And shure it's a dbrop of of somethin' warm as 'ud do you all the good in the world. Me and my friend here," pointing to Mickey Murphy, " is going have a dhriak, and maybe you'd join us." " Well, I don't tmml If I dv." * " That's ngnc. And what might it be you'd like, my dear ?"
<f l'll take brandy and water. Brandy and water cold."
"Brandy and water cold, is it?"' Very good, my dear. It'll be here nfore you sez Jack Kobinson. And what's yours, iVlick V "The ould thing thin, Tim— with the water screechin' hot mind." " All right, Mick ; I'll be back in a jiffey," and then he proceeded towards the bar to execute the orders j but it was a very long jiffey before he got back' again. He went towards the bar to execute the orders, I say, and as he did so he heard the word " Hungerford " whispered at some little distance from him, he heard the word, or thought he did so, but he was not altogether certain about the matter, so he stopped to listen, looking cautiously about him to see where the word came from. The place was crowded at the time ; but he could tell pretty well where the word came from — was quite certain indeed in his own mind it came from those three fellows in the dark corner by the door with their backs to him. He moved a little closer to them —just a stop or two — to all seeming quite unconscious of their presence, but the movement was useless as far as the deriving any definite information was concerned. They were whispering with their heads close *ogether, and there was a perfect babel of sounds around, so that, listen as he would, he could not catch what they were saying. A stray word or two he did catch, and that was all, but he was not a whit the wiser after for the words. He caught the words "job," and '.'dangerous," and •'cove," and he heard "to-rnoirow night " mentioned ; and that was all he did hear, for just then, the men left the house, without his being able to recognize their faces. Tim stood there after they left, utterly oblivious of the object of his errand, too intent upon this conversation he had overheard, or partly overheard, to think of aught else beside. He stood there thinking of it, pondering over these words, asking himself what it m«ant and how be should act. Were they speaking of Tom, or were they not ? He couldn't say with any degre« of certainty, though tho impression on his mind was that they were speaking of him. And if they were, what did they mean 1 Did they meau Tom any harm ? Harm Tom ! By the heavens above him, it* he but thought .3d, he'd follow them there aud then, the gallows birds, and choke them ; yes, do it himself single-handed. But perhaps after all he was mistaken. W»ll he hoped he was ; Imfc all the same he'd keep his eyes open, and
meantime he would mention the matter to the sergeant that very night ; yeg. tC Why thin, man alive, what infjfhe devil's name is keeping you with thim chinks all this time V shouted out his friend Mickey Murphy, cutting short his thoughts and recalling to him the object of his errand. That night he mentioned the matter to the sergeant ; but the sergeant poohpoohed the idea of danger to Tom. " The fellows are very likely after no good," said the sergeant " But likely enough they are old hands, and old bands are too wide awake to have anything to say to the Commissioner. They are too knowing to try their hands at that ganiP. Very likely they're up to some lay or another, and Mr. Hungerford's name was castmlly mpnfcioned, if it was mentioned at all. I'll set Jonps on 'em to-morrow." Jones was a keeneyed detective, the terror of evil doers. This was the way the sergeant spoke of the matter, and before such an authority Ti<n was obliged to appear satisfied.
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Tuapeka Times, Volume V, Issue 252, 28 November 1872, Page 9
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4,874A STORY OF THE EARLY DAYS OF THE OTAGO GOLDFIELDS. Tuapeka Times, Volume V, Issue 252, 28 November 1872, Page 9
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