On our way we took a peep at several flats and gullies,
many of which looked very picturesque, particularly one called Specimen
Gully, which was but thinly inhabited.
We had hardly reached Fryer's Creek itself when we saw a vast concourse
of people gathered together. Frank and my brother remained with me at a
little distance, whilst Octavius and William went to learn the occasion
of this commotion. It arose from an awful accident which had just
occurred.
Three brothers were working in a claim beside the stream, some way
apart from the other diggers. The heavy rain during the night had
raised the water, and the ground between the hole where they were
working and the Creek, had given way imperceptibly UNDERNEATH. One
brother, who was early in the hole at work, fancied that the water at
the bottom was gradually rising above his knees; he shouted to his
comrades, but unfortunately they had gone, one, one way, one, another,
in quest of something, and it was some minutes ere they returned.
Meanwhile the water in the hole was slowly but surely rising, and the
slippery sides which were several feet high defied him to extricate
himself. His cries for help became louder - he was heard, and his
brothers and some neighbours hastened to his assistance. Ropes were
procured after some further delay, and thrown to the unhappy man - but
it was too late. None dared approach very near, for the ground was like
a bog, and might at any moment give way beneath their feet; the water
was nearly level with the top of the hole, and all hope of saving him
was gone. The brothers had often been warned of the danger they
were running.
Shuddering at the thoughts of this awful death we turned away, but no
change of scene could dissipate it from our minds - the remembrance of
it haunted me for many a night.
Jessie seemed pleased to see us on our return - we had left her behind
with Gregory to his great delight - we abstained from mentioning before
her the fearful accident we had but witnessed.
That evening we wandered about Forest Creek. We had not gone far before
a digger with a pistol in his hand shot by us; he was followed by an
immense mob, hooting, yelling, and screaming, as only a mob at the
diggings can. It was in full pursuit, and we turned aside only in time
to prevent ourselves from being knocked down in the confusion.
"Stop him - stop him," was the cry. He was captured, and the cry changed
to, "String him up - string him up - it's useless taking him to the
police-office."
"What has he done?" asked my brother of a quiet by-stander.
"Shot a man in a quarrel at a grogshop."
"String him up - string him up - confront him with the body," vociferated
the mob.
