Towards the latter end of October and the beginning of November we had such
a set of scoundrels camped among us, in the shape of troopers and traps,
that I had better shut up this chapter at once, or else whirl the whole
manuscript bang down a shicer.
"Hold hard, though, take your time, old man: don't let your Roman blood
hurry you off like the hurricane, and thus damage the merits of your case.
Answer this question first," says my good reader.
"If it be a fair one, I will."
"Was, then, the obnoxious mode of collecting the tax the sole cause
of discontent: or was the tax itself (two pounds for three months)
objected to at the same time?"
"I think the practical miner, who had been hard at work night and day,
for the last four or six months, and, after all, had just bottomed a shicer,
objected to the tax itself, because he could not possibly afford to pay it.
And was it not atrocious to confine this man in the lousy lock-up at the Camp,
because he had no luck?"
Allow me, now, in return, to put a very important question, of the old
Roman stamp, 'Cui bono?' that is, Where did our licence money go to?
That's a nut which will be positively cracked by-and-bye.
Chapter XIII.
Ubi Caro, Ibi Vultures.
One morning, I woke all on a sudden. - What's up? A troop of horse galloping
exactly towards my tent, and I could hear the tramping of a band of traps.
I got out of the stretcher, and hastened out of my tent. All the neighbours,
in night-caps and unmentionables, were groping round the tents, to inquire
what was the matter. It was not yet day-light. There was a sly-grog seller
at the top of the hill; close to his store he had a small tent, crammed with
brandy cases and other grog, newly come up from town. There must have been
a spy, who had scented such valuable game.
The Commissioner asked the storekeeper, who by this time was at the door
of his store: "Whose tent is that?" indicating the small one in question.
"I don't know," was the answer.
"Who lives in it? who owns it? is anybody in?" asked the Commissioner.
"An old man owns it, but he is gone to town on business, and left it
to the care of his mate who is on the nightshift," replied the storekeeper.
"I won't peck up that chaff of yours, sir. Halloo! who is in? Open the tent;"
shouted the Commissioner.
No answer.
"I say, cut down this tent, and we'll see who is in;" was the order
of the Commissioner to two ruffianly looking troopers.
No sooner said than done; and the little tent was ripped up by their swords.
A government cart was, of course, ready in the gully below, and in less than
five minutes the whole stock of grog, some two hundred pounds sterling worth,
or five hundred pounds worth in nobblers, was carted up to the Camp,
before the teeth of some hundreds of diggers, who had now collected
round about. We cried "Shame! shame!" sulkily enough, but we did not
interfere; first, because the store had already annoyed us often enough
during the long winter nights; second, because the plunderers were such
Vandemonian-looking traps and troopers, that we were not encouraged
to say much, because it would have been of no use.
As soon, however, as the sun was up, and all hands were going to work,
the occurrence not only increased the discontent that had been brewing
fast enough already, but it rose to excitement; and such a state of
exasperated feelings, however vented in the shouting of 'Joe,' did certainly
not prepare the Eureka boys to submit with patience to a licence-hunt
in the course of the day.
First and foremost: it is impossible to prevent the sale of spirits
on the diggings; and not any laws, fines, or punishment the government
may impose on the dealers or consumers can have an effect towards putting
a stop to sly-grog selling. A miner working, as during the past winter,
in wet and cold, must and will have his nobbler occasionally; and very
necessary, too, I think. No matter what the cost, he will have it;
and it cannot be dispensed with, if he wish to preserve his health: he won't
go to the Charley Napier Hotel, when he can get his nobbler near-handy,
and thereby give a lift to Pat or Scotty.
Secondly: I hereby assert that the breed of spies in this colony prospered
by this sly-grog selling. "We want money," says some of the 'paternals'
at Toorak.
"Oh! well, then," replies another at Ballaarat, "come down on a few
storekeepers and unlicensed miners and raise the wind. We can manage a
thousand or two that way. Let the blood-hounds on the scent, and it is done."
And so a scoundrel, in the disguise of an honest man, takes with him
another worse devil than himself, and goes round like a roaring lion,
seeking what he may devour.
If I had half the fifty pounds fine inflicted on sly-grog sellers,
and five pounds fine on unlicensed diggers, raised on Ballaarat at this time,
I think my fellow-colonists would bow their heads before me. Great works!
Thirdly: An act of silver and gold lace humanity was going the rounds
of our holes, above and below.
A person is found in an insensible state, caused by loss of blood,
having fallen, by accident, on a broken bottle and cut an artery in his head.
He is conveyed to the Camp hospital.
