This effectually roused her.
"I NEVER left him - I NEVER neglected him. When I waked in the morning I
thought him asleep. I made my fire. I crept softly about to make his
gruel for breakfast, and I took it him, and found him dead - dead," and
she burst into a passion of tears.
Frank's pretended insinuation had done her good; and now that her grief
found its natural vent, her mind became calmer, and exhausted with
sorrow, she fell into a soothing slumber.
We had prepared to start before noon, but this incident delayed us a
little. When Jessie awoke, she seemed to feel intuitively that Frank
was her best friend, for she kept beside him during our hasty dinner,
and retained his hand during the walk. There was a pleasant breeze, and
we did not feel over fatigued when, after having walked about eight
miles, we sat down beneath a most magnificent gum tree, more
than a hundred feet high. Frank very wisely made Jessie bestir herself,
and assist in our preparations. She collected dry sticks for a fire,
went with him to a small creek near for a supply of water; and so well
did he succeed, that for a while she nearly forgot her troubles, and
could almost smile at some of William's gay sallies.
Next morning, very early, breakfast rapidly disappeared, and we were
marching onwards. An empty cart, drawn by a stout horse, passed us.
Frank glanced at the pale little child beside him. "Where to?" cried
he.
"Forest Creek."
"Take us for what?"
"A canary a-piece."
"Agreed." And we gladly sprung in. For the sake of the uninitiated, I
must explain that, in digger's slang, a "canary" and half-a-sovereign
are synonymous.
We passed the "Porcupine Inn." We halted at noon, dined, and about two
hours after sighted the Commissioners' tent. In a few minutes the cart
stopped.
"Can't take yer not no further. If the master seed yer, I'd cotch it
for taking yer at all."
We paid him and alighted.
Chapter XI.
FOREST CREEK
In my last chapter we were left standing not far from the
Commissioners' tent, Forest Creek, at about three o'clock in the
afternoon of Saturday, the 16th. An air of quiet prevailed, and made
the scene unlike any other we had as yet viewed at the diggings. It was
the middle of the month; here and there a stray applicant for a licence
might make his appearance, but the body of the diggers had done so long
before, and were disseminated over the creek digging, washing, or
cradling, as the case might be, but here at least was quiet. To the
right of the Licensing Commissioners' tent was a large one
appropriated to receiving the gold to be forwarded to Melbourne by the
Government escort. There were a number of police and pensioners about.
