CHAPTER 1.

Waikato Times, Volume XVIII, Issue 1556, 24 June 1882, Page 1 (Supplement)

CHAPTER 1.

It was a burning summer's clay, on the great goldfield of Grit. The sun had ri&en in a clear cloudless sky at dawn, blue as the purest ultramarine ; but, as the burning golden globe of the sun ascended the heavens, becoming a leaden yet glaring dark purple, relieved with chrome, on the horizon — a chrome that encroached upon the purple as the day grew and the heat waxed fierce. From this terrible setting the sun shone upon tho earth with all the power of a giant burning glass, the world loflecting the heat with a fierce resistance, the result of the struggle being seen in tho mirage which made it seem as if the air were in combustion. And the world of Grit, upon which the sun shone that day, was of such a chaiacter as added fury to the heat, and made it like Nebuchadnezzar's furnace. Standing upon tho highest of the many hills of Grit, the eye took in an arid expanse of desert, wherein was not to be seen a green thing ; nothing but yellow and red earth, and dingy bluish-grey gum trees — or rather eucalypti scrub, — for the diggers had cut down the older trees. Everywheie the eye saw the holes sunk by the mineis, and their accom- | panying tumuli of red, yellow, white, or gray earth. Far below the obsoiver could be seen thousands of tents on tho flat and hills — tents no doubt once white, but now of the prevailing brick-red tone of coloV that made the heat and dazzle intolerable. It was a terrible day. So thought the innumerable tribes in the heat and dust of Gritty Flat, as they worked away, hauling up stuff from the shafts, or rocking the cradles by the muddy waterholes. It was agreed on Gritty Flat that such a day had not been experienced since the goldfield had been opened. But, as the same observation had been made every day duiing the past month, the remark could not cany much weight. Upon one thing, however, the diggers agieed that the only way to lelieve the outer man was by pouring liquid into the (inner — a belief well earned out, for all day theie Avas a constant stream to the straggling sheet of tents called the town. It was a long street; straight, geometrically speaking, but crooked to the extreme in its ways. There, on this fearful day, beer and brandy of very dubious quality were retailed fizzing hot — for the tents were famous heat conductors, and the thermometer would have registered over 100 degrees if placed in any of the liquids. Bed-hot barmen stood in front of the wooden structures called bars, retailing brandy and perspiration at the same time. Numerous customers who had imbibed these decoctions and been too earnest in their devotions to Bacchus, had fallen in the unequal strife; and the newcomers had to step over their forms. What a sight was Gritty Gully that day. Thousands of tents glistened and blistered in the sun as if an army had encamped there to do battle with an enemy. And it was so. The army of Mammon had sought this once quiet spot, and put to rout the sylvan gods that abode there in peace for myriads of years. Henceforward it was to be a busy haunt of the great race which seems destined to fill the world : the Anglo-Saxon — the race that" fears neither climate, disease, nor death. Even now the institutions of the great Mother-land were in full force. Where the carcase is there will the eagles be gathered together. Where Englishmen are there will be whiskey and public meetings. At the time we enter upon the scene the public square was filled with thousands of diggers who were holding a meeting about their rights in defiance of the blazing sun. On a barrel — keptin jits place by a couple of stalwart miners — a i furious demagogue was holding forth on the , \riglits of Britons who never would be slaves except to the drink fiend ; who would have this, that, and the other thing if their blood were to flow around them — but a flow of whiskey was the more likely event. Every now and then the demagogue's admirers would hand him a large black bottle from which he drew inspiration, and returned to his tasklbf ' vilifying his commission amidst the cheers of the crowd that exclaimed, as with one voice, , " Fine fellow, Bunakum. He takes his liquor like a man." "Fellow countrymen!" shouted the denaagpgue—his face as' fiery as the sun above H§sivfiead. " Are you to be slaves, to work in gully to feed such a vampire as that ?" wj|ghaking his huge red fist at the opposite Pla&known as the camp, where the goldfields was supposed to be resting in ? f ';,the lap of luxury under a double-roofed tent. $3' Will you toil until blood oozes from your rangers, that he may enjoy the fat of the land, Kand drink his, wine, and smoke his cigasr — IhpiQ'bes^Havanas— at.your expense ? Never !" 1" caine^ from a thousand throats. feAt this particular stage-several in the crowd W^^U'Jl^H^ •'■ when-thinking^pi^t^cdi^ ipEroig^in^by way ol providing a, safety WmmfP^ ,&efr feelings, slashed into the pe'r-t

sons who did not cheer, which was presumptive evidence that they were in league with the tyrants ; and a»few hundreds were hard at fisticuffs, hitting 'away at random, and for the love of the thing. These ructions were glorious, and the diggers thoroughly enjoyed them. " Fellow countrymen I" cried Bunakum, whose pronunciation was now becoming thick, " As that glorious sun shines resplendent, — [' Hooray,' shouted those not engaged in the combat, delighted at the use of such a big phrase] — in the heavens above, supreme, so shall your rights be vindicated ; and you shall triumph over this fell and cruel tyrant. Another drop, Bill." The last words were addressed to one of his supporters, who at once complied by handing him the bottle. Bunakum took a powerful draught, and then, gazing over the crowd, attempted to speak, but utterly failed. He gave another idiotic look, and then fell back into the arms of his friends, who bore him away to the nearest shanty, amid the commiseration of all. "It was too much for his feelings," was the general expression — of course the liquor could have had nothing to do with it. He had fallen in a noble cause. The platform was now mounted by a rather younger man. He was tall, and although stiong, of somewhat ungainly make. His face, red hair, and beard, marked him as Scotch, or of Scotch descent. His countenance bore a strange mm ing of the sensual and the intellectual ; in the mouth and jaw the former predominated, and in the brow the latter. The features were hard and unprepossessing except when he pleased and then there was a great fascination in his face. A frown, howevever, was the general expiession, and the face conveyed the idea of great dissatisfaction with himself and the whole world. His was the face of a man who had great expectations, and had found them vanish like tho visions of a happy night. No wonder that he was not over popular with the diggers. " Hector Machines is going to spout 1" cried the diggers. " He's not much account ! Too dry." "He doesn't take much grog," said an individual, well advanced towards that happy stage, " that 'counts for it." This was accepted by all as a good and sufficient reason for Hector's dryness. Hector spoke in a very different style to that of Bunakum. lie put tho matter in dispute very clearly, and Bought to point out the best way of settling it, eschewing all appeals to the passions, lighting for their rights, repeating the Euieka Stockade episode, etc., &c. His lemarks were coldly listened to by the croud, although he was recognised as "one of us." Hector had spoken about fifteen minutes when a woman elbowed her way towards the barrel. She had onco been beautiful. The traces of a fine akin and pleasing features wore still visible ; but an irregular life under the sun of Victoria made her not altogether sufficiently presentable in a drawing room. She too was evidently suffering from the general complaint. " Come home, Hector," she said mildly. " What are you doing, blathering here when you ought to be at Avork ? Come now, none of your nonsense and blatherskiting. Qet off that and come home with me, or things will be worse for you." Hector Macinnes blushed scarlet. A terrible scowl clouded his face. " Go home, Janet," he said, " I'll follow." " Nonsense, cried the woman, " I won't. You'll have to come. That's flat. For, if I leave you here you'll go on talking till all's blue; and I may sit at liomo till I grow a fixture before you come. I won't move till you come with me." Hector Macinnes shut his teeth, and, glaring at the woman as if he could have killed her, jumped off the platform and walked away with her, amid the deafening jeers and laughter of the assembled crowd that vastly enjoyed the scene. " There'll be a row at their tent to-night, I bet," cried one. " She is a Tartar ! And he's got a devil of a temper. You can see it in his face." " It is a shame for a man like him to be disgraced by that woman," said a young fellow. " Disgraced !" cried an Irishwoman, with a face like a full moon. " Shure and didn't she kape him from shtarving? None iv your disgrace, my flash fellow." " He'll be the death of her yet," said a man in the crowd. " It's only last week he was up at the court for beating her next to death's door." Such Avere the scenes of the early digging times. Some may cavil Avith us for reproducing them ; but it is false philosophy to be eternally Avhitening the sepulchre. It is a necessity for the development of this story that Aye' should depict such scenes. It is a necessity if Aye are to be true historians of the past and the present — the one growing out of the other. We have to take the world a,s Aye find it, not as Aye would wish it Aveie.