Me these identical remarkable words, "My dear fellow,
the licence is a mere watchword of the day, and they make a cat's-paw of you."
Mr. Black undertook my defence: the words above stuck in my throat, though.
Mr. Hackett, on being consulted, assented that Mr. Rede could promise us
to take into consideration the present excited feelings of the diggers,
and use his best judgment as to a further search for licences on the morrow.
Mr. Rede: "Yes, yes; but, understand me, gentlemen. I give no pledge."
The usual ceremonies being over, Sub-inspector Taylor kindly escorted us
to the bridge, gave the pass-word, and to go - just as any one else will go
in this land, who puts his confidence in red-tape - disappointed.
Chapter XLIII.
La Volpe Cambia Il Pelo, Ma Non La Pelle;
Cambia La Pelle Il Serpe, Non Il Veleno:
Il Cane Non Abbaia Col Ventre Pieno;
Vestesi Il Lupo In Pecora Tra Liagnelle.
Antica Storia;
Ma Senza Gloria.
By this time, the main road was crowded. The men were anxiously waiting
to know our success. Mr. Black calmed their excitement as kindly
as circumstances admitted. We returned to our camp at the Eureka. Mr. Black
rendered an account of our mission with that candour which characterises him
as a gentleman. I wished to correct him in one point only, and said,
my impression was, that the Camp, choked with red-coats, would quash
Mr. Rede's 'good judgment,' get the better of his sense, if he had any
of either, and that he would come out licence-hunting on an improved style.
Peter Lalor adjourned the meeting to five o'clock in the morning.
Chapter XLIV.
Accingere Gladio Tuo Super Femur Tuum.
On Friday, December 1st, the sun rose as usual. The diggers came in armed,
voluntarily, and from all directions: and soon they were under drill,
as the day before. So far as I know, not one digger had turned to work.
It may have happened, that certain Cornishmen, well known for their
peculiar propensity, of which they make a boast to themselves, to pounce
within an inch of their neighbour's shaft, were not allowed to indulge in
'encroaching.' This, however, I assert as a matter of fact, that the Council
of the Eureka Stockade never gave or hinted at any order to stop the
usual work on the gold-field.
Towards ten o'clock, news reached our camp that the red coats were under arms,
and there would be another licence-hunting.
The flames did not devour the Eureka Hotel with the same impetuosity
as we got up our stockade. Peter Lalor gave the order: Vern had the charge,
and was all there with his tremendous sword. "Wo ist der Raffaello!
Du, Baricaden bauen," and all heaps of slabs, all available timber
was soon higgledy-piggledy thrown all round our camp.
