In one respect Mike's self-security was not unfounded; the gully
in which their tent was now pitched was nearly deserted. Some while
previous there had been a great rush to the place, so great that it was
almost excavated; then the rush took a different direction, and few now
cared to work on the two or three spots that had been left untouched.
Like many other localities considered "worked out," as much remained in
the ground as had been taken from it, and as each day added to their
store, Mike's hilarity increased.
It was now the 10th of the month; their hole had been fairly
"bottomed," a nice little nest of nuggets discovered, their gains
divided, and the gold sent down to the escort-office for transit to
Melbourne. A few buckets-full of good washing-stuff was all that was
left undone.
"To-day will finish that," thought Mike, and to it he set with hearty
good-will, to the intense satisfaction of his comrade, who sat watching
him at a little distance. Suddenly Mike felt a heavy hand upon his
shoulder: he looked up, and saw before him - the inspector. He had
already with him a large body of defaulters, and Mike little doubted
but that he must be added to their number. Old Hinton's determined
speech, Susan's parting words and tears, flashed across his
mind.
"You've lost your bonnie bride," muttered Robert, loud enough to reach
his rival's ears.
Mike glanced at him, and the look of triumph he saw there roused every
spark of energy within him, and it was in a tone of wellf-assumed
composure that he replied to the inspector, "My licence is in my
pocket, and my coat is below there;" and without a moment's hesitation
sprang into his hole to fetch it. Some minutes elapsed. The inspector
waxed impatient. A suspicion of the truth flashed across Robert's mind,
and he too descended the hole. THERE was the coat and the licence of
the past month in the pocket; but the owner had gone, vanished, and an
excavation on one side which led into the next hole and thence into a
complete labyrinth underground, plainly pointed out the method of
escape. Seeing no use in ferreting the delinquent out of so dangerous a
place, the inspector sulkily withdrew, though not without venting some
of his ill-humour upon Robert, at whose representations, made to him
the day previous, he had come so far out of his road.
But let us return to Mike. By a happy thought, he had suddenly
remembered that whilst working some days before in the hole, his pick
had let in daylight on one side, and the desperate hope presented
itself to his mind that he might make a passage into the next pit,
which he knew led into others, and thus escape. His success was beyond
his expectation; and he regained the open air at a sufficient distance
from his late quarters to escape observation. Once able to reflect
calmly upon the event of the morning, it required little discrimination
to fix upon Robert his real share in it. And now there was no time to
lose in returning to Melbourne, and prevent by a speedy marriage any
further attempt to set his intended father-in-law against him. The
roads were dry, for it was the sultry month of February; and two days
saw him beside his lady-love.
Although railroads are as yet unknown in Australia, everything goes on
at railroad speed; and a marriage concocted one day is frequently
solemnized the next. His eagerness, therefore, was no way remarkable.
No time was lost; and when, three days after Mike's return, Robert
(with his head full of plots and machinations) presented himself
at old Hinton's door, he found them all at a well-spread wedding
breakfast, round which were gathered a merry party, listening with a
digger's interest to the way in which the happy bridegroom had evaded
the inspector. Mike had wisely kept the story till Susan was his wife.
THURSDAY 16. - With great delight we hailed the prognostications of a
fine day, and, after having eaten a hearty breakfast on the strength of
it, we recommenced our travels, and crossed the Coliban Bridge. The
Coliban is a fine river running through a beautiful valley bounded with
green trees; the bridge is a timber one, out of repair, and dangerous.
A township called Malmsbury has been laid out here in small allotments
with the expectation of a future city; but as yet not a house has been
erected, with the exception of the "hotel" before mentioned, putting
one in mind of the American Eden in "Martin Chuzzlewit." A mile beyond
the Coliban are the washing huts of John Orr's Station, and about three
miles to the left is his residence; the house is stone, with verandahs,
the garden and vineyards are prettily laid out.
After passing the bridge, we took the right-hand road, which led
us through a low country, and across two or three tributary creeks; we
then reached the neighbourhood of Saw-pit Gully, so called from the
number of saw-pits there, which formerly gave employment to numerous
sawyers, whose occupation - it is almost needless to state - is now
deserted. It is surrounded with fine large timber; there are several
coffee-shops, a blacksmith's and wheelright's, and a neat little
weather-board inn.
At this part, our German friends bade us farewell, to follow out their
original plan of going to Forest Creek; they had persuaded four others
to accompany them, so our number was reduced to fifteen, myself
included. The scenery now became very beautiful, diversified with hill
and dale, well wooded, with here and there a small creek, more
agreeable to look at than to cross, as there were either no bridges or
broken-down ones.
