It
Was Not, However, Sufficient To Damp Our Spirits, And The Appointed
Hour Found Us All Assembled To Attack The Last Meal That We Anticipated
To Make For Some Time To Come Beneath The Shelter Of A Ceiling.
At
eight o'clock our united party was to start from the "Duke of York"
hotel, and as that hour drew nigh, the unmistakeable signs of
"something up," attracted a few idlers to witness our departure.
In
truth, we were a goodly party, and created no little sensation among
the loungers - but I must regularly introduce our troop to my readers.
First then, I must mention two large drays, each drawn by a pair of
stout horses - one the property of two Germans, who were bound for
Forest Creek, the other belonged to ourselves and shipmates. There were
three pack-horses - one (laden with a speculation in bran) belonged to
a queer-looking sailor, who went by the name of Joe, the other two were
under the care of a man named Gregory, who was going to rejoin his
mates at Eagle Hawk Gully. As his destination was the farthest, and he
was well acquainted with the roads, he ought to have been elected
leader, but from some mis-management that dignity was conferred upon a
stout old gentleman, who had taken a pleasure-trip to Mount Alexander,
the previous summer.
Starting is almost always a tedious affair, nor was this particular
case an exception. First one had forgotten something - another broke a
strap, and a new one had to be procured - then the dray was not
properly packed, and must be righted - some one else wanted an
extra "nobbler" - then a fresh, and still a fresh delay, so that
although eight was the appointed hour, it was noon ere we bade farewell
to mine host of the "Duke of York."
At length the word of command was spoken.
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