Shortly after the departure of Oakes, I went to a little rush, on Slaty Creek, on the Creswick’s Creek Gold-fields, about thirteen miles from Ballarat.

I was accompanied by two others, with whom I had lately been working. Soon after arriving at the rush, we took possession of a claim; and proceeded to “prospect” it.

After sinking a small hole on the claim, and washing some of the earth from the bottom of it, we found a little gold – not what we thought “payable,” and yet the “prospect” was so good that we did not like to forsake the claim. In hopes that it might contain richer “dirt” than what we had found, we determined to stay by it a while longer.

To sink our shaft to any advantage, we needed a crowbar. There were some very large stones in the ground that could not be moved without one. A crowbar was an article we did not possess; and as we could not find one at the two or three stores established on Slaty Creek, I walked over, one evening, to Creswick Creek – a distance of some three or four miles – intending to purchase one there.

By the time I reached the township, made my purchase, and started towards home, it had got to be ten o’clock. About half a mile from Creswick, on the road homeward, I had to pass a camp of native blacks.

These people, in morality and social habits, are upon a scale, perhaps, as low, as humanity can reach. The sole object of their existence is, to obtain strong drink. For that, they will sometimes work at gathering bark and poles; or they will look about for stray specks of gold – in places where the miners have been working, and which have been abandoned.

Any one, who understands the strength of their aversion to labour, may form some idea of the desire these blacks have for drink: when it is known that they will sometimes do the one for the sake of getting the other!

An Australian native black, after becoming degraded by intercourse with the whites, will sell his mother, sister, or wife, for brandy!

The party, whose camp I was compelled to pass, had evidently met with some success, in their various ways of obtaining brandy during that day, for from the noise they were making, I judged that all, or nearly all of them, must be in a state of intoxication.

Not wishing to be annoyed, by their begging for tobacco – which I knew they would be certain to do, should they see me – I resolved to keep out of their way. Instead of following the direct path – which led on through the place where they had erected their “mia-mias” or huts – I made a détour of their encampment. After passing well round it, I turned once more towards the road to Slaty Creek, which, after a time, I succeeded in regaining.

I had scarce got well upon the track, when I was confronted by a big “black fellow,” apparently beside himself with drink.

As a general rule, the native blacks, seen roaming about the gold-fields of Victoria, are seldom guilty of malignant violence towards the whites; but the man, whom it was now my misfortune to meet, proved an exception to this rule: for the reason, no doubt, that he was maddened with alcohol.

As he approached me, I saw that he was brandishing a “waddy waddy,” or club. I strove to avoid him; but found, that although mad with drink, he was active upon his limbs, and able to hinder me from making a retreat. Had I attempted to run away, I should have been brought to a stop – by a blow from his “waddy waddy.”

I saw that my best chance of safety would be in standing firm, and defending myself.

The fellow made two desperate lounges at me with his club, which, with some difficulty, I managed to dodge – and all the while that he was delivering his murderous assault, he kept shouting to me, in his native gibberish – apparently making some important communication, but the nature of which I had not the slightest idea.

Just as I was beginning to consider the affair serious, and was preparing to act on the offensive, the black made a third blow with his waddy waddy. This I was unable, altogether, to avoid; and the club struck heavily against one of my legs.

Irritated by the pain produced, I could no longer control my temper; and, grasping the crowbar with both hands, I aimed a blow at the black fellow’s head.

I did not strike with the intention of killing the man. I only knew that my life was in danger; and that I was suffering great pain from the wound I had received. This, however, had irritated me beyond the power of controlling myself; and, no doubt, my whole strength was given to the stroke.

The crowbar descended upon the black fellow’s naked crown; and never shall I forget the horrible sound made by the crashing in of his skull. It was not only horrible, but sickening; and for a moment, completely unmanned me. It was not the mere thought, that I had broken a man’s head, that unmanned me, for I had both witnessed, and taken part, in many a sanguinary scene before that – without feeling any such remorseful emotion. It was the horrid sound – caused by the crashing in of his skull – that not only overcame me, but, for a time, rendered me faint, sick, and disgusted with the world, and all it contained.

That sound echoed in my ears for hours afterwards; and, ever since that time, I have carefully avoided being near any place where a “free fight” was about to take place – lest it might be my misfortune to hear a similar sound.

The day after, it was reported, that the blacks were entertaining themselves with a funeral. I did not learn the particulars of the ceremony; but, presume it was similar to a funeral I had witnessed among a tribe of the same people on Fryer’s Creek, in July, 1853. One of their number had been killed, by another of the tribe; and, on the next day, I was present at the performance of their funeral rites, over the remains of the murdered man.

A grave was dug, about five feet deep – into which the body was lowered, and a sheet of bark laid over it. The earth was then filled in; and while this was being done, by one man, two others stood inside the grave, stamping upon the dirt, and treading it down, as firm as they could make it!

What could have been their object in thus packing the dead body, I never understood, unless it was done, under the impression, that the corpse might come to life again, without this precaution being taken to keep it under ground!

Volume Three – Chapter Two.
Farrell and His Wife, Once More

Three weeks “prospecting,” at Slaty Creek, convinced me that it was not the place for a gold-digger to make his fortune, without the severest labour; and for this reason, I left it – returning to Ballarat.

On arriving at the latter place, I went to see my old Californian acquaintance, Farrell. The instant I set eyes on him, and he on me, his features plainly proclaimed that he had something to tell me, which he deemed very amusing.

“Farrell,” said I, “you are working a rich claim; I see fortune written on your face.”

“Nothing of the kind,” he answered; “I have just finished a tolerable spell of digging, it is true; and shall start for home to-morrow. But it ain’t that; I have better news still.”

“Better news? What can it be!”

“I’ve seen Foster, and my wife. Ha! ha! they’ve been living in sight of my tent for the last four months; and I never knew they were there until two days ago!”

“Then you have seen Foster?”

“Certainly, I have!”

“What did you do to him?”

“Nothing. Fate is giving me all the revenge I want; and I would not interfere with her designs – not for the world. In saying that Foster is the most miserable object I’ve seen for many years. I speak only the truth. He has a rheumatic fever, and hasn’t been able to stir out of his tent for six weeks. He will probably never go out of it again – that is, alive. Now, I call that fun; isn’t it?”

“Not much for Foster, I should think. But how came you to find them?”

“I was in my tent, one morning, when I heard a woman talking to my partner, who happened to be outside just by the door. The woman was wanting to get some washing to do. She said, that her husband had been a long time ill; and that they hadn’t a shilling to live upon. I thought her voice sounded familiar to me; and, taking a peep out of the tent, I saw at once it was my runaway wife! I waited till she walked away; and then, slipping out, I followed her to her own tent. She went inside, without seeing me; and then I stepped in after her, and stood quietly surveying the guilty pair.

“My wife went off into a fit of ‘highstrikes,’ while Foster lay trembling, like a craven, expecting every moment to be killed. ‘Don’t be frightened,’ said I, ‘I haven’t the slightest intention to put you out of your misery. I like revenge too well for that. You have some more trouble to see yet, I hope; and I’m not going to do anything that might hinder you from seeing it.

“I waited till my wife became sufficiently composed to comprehend what was going on; and then, after thanking her for the kindness she had done me – by relieving me of all further trouble with her – I bid them ‘good day,’ and walked off, leaving them to reflect upon the interview.

“To-day, I have just been to visit them again; and the want and misery, they appear to be suffering, gave me no little pleasure. They looked as though they had not had a morsel to eat for a week; and I could not see a scrap – of either bread or meat – in their tent.

“I told them, not to give themselves any further uneasiness, on my account, for I wasn’t going to molest them any more. ‘I’ve made a little fortune here,’ said I, ‘and intend starting for New York State to-morrow. Have you any message to send to your friends?’ I asked of Foster. The poor devil could not, or would not, make me a reply. ‘Have you, Mary,’ said I, turning to my wife. She could only answer with sobs. ‘It is a miserable, wretched life, at the best, on these diggings,’ I remarked. I am going to leave it, and once more seek happiness in my native land. Excuse me, Mr Foster, and you, Mrs F., for not helping you in your distress. I know that there is an All-wise Creator, who will reward both of you, as your conduct deserves; and it would be presumptuous in me to take any of the work out of his hands. I leave you here, with full confidence in the belief, that divine justice will be impartially administered to all.

“Now that was what I call good talking, – what do you say?”

“Very good, indeed,” I answered. “But are you really going to leave them in that manner?”

“Certainly, I am. I never intend to see either of them again. When I was coming away from their tent, my wife followed me out, went down on her knees, and piteously entreated me to aid her, in returning to her parents. She declared, that she never knew my worth, until she had foolishly lost me; and that she now loved me more than ever she had done – my little finger, more than Foster’s whole body – which it would not have been difficult to make me believe. She said, she would not ask me to let her live with me again; but, that if I would give her money to return home, she would pass the remainder of her days in praying for me.

“No, Mary,” said I, “do not think so unjustly of me, as to suppose I could do that. I love you too well, to stand in the way of your receiving the reward you have deserved; and, besides, you should not desert Forter, whom you have followed so far – now that the poor fellow is in affliction. My affection for you is too sincere, to think of allowing you to commit so great a wrong?

“Having delivered this exordium, I turned and left her. Now that is what I call revenge. What’s your opinion?”

“What is revenge to one man, may not be to another,” was my answer. “If it pleases you to act so, of course, I have nothing to say against it.”

“And what would you do?”

“I should give the woman some money, enough to enable her to return to her parents. As for the man, I should leave him to his fate.”

“Then you would act very foolishly, – as I would, if I followed your advice. The woman having got home, would be there to annoy me. I wish to go back to my native place; and be happy there for the rest of my days. How could that be – living along side a wife who had so disgraced me?”

I could say nothing more to dissuade Farrell from his purpose; and we parted company – he shortly after starting for Melbourne, to take passage for New York.

The after-fate of his faithless wife, and her wretched paramour, some other must record: for, from that hour, I never heard of either of them again.

Volume Three – Chapter Three.
The Rush to Avoca

After passing four or five days in looking about the Canadian, Eureka, and Gravel-pits, “leads” on the Ballarat Gold-fields, and finding no favourable opportunity of getting into a good claim, I determined to proceed to Avoca river, for which place a big “rush” was just starting – that, by all accounts, would turn out a success.

The day after I had formed this resolution, I saw a man with a horse and dray, just departing for Avoca.

The man was willing to take a light load of diggers’ “swags;” and, rolling up my tent and blankets, I put them upon his dray.

The drayman did not succeed in getting all the freight he required: for there was but one other digger besides myself, who furnished him with anything to carry. As he, and a partner he had, were anxious to reach the new gold-field as soon as possible, they determined to start, without waiting to make up a load.

All being ready, we set out at once for the “sweet vale of Avoca.”

The drayman’s partner was a man known in the diggings, by the name of “Bat.” I had often seen “Bat,” and was acquainted with two or three other diggers, who knew him well. He was famed at Ballarat, for having the largest mind of any man in the place; but it was also generally known, that in his mind, the proportion of selfishness, to all other feelings and faculties, was ninety-nine to one.

The reason why Bat’s soul was thought to be so large was, that, otherwise it could not have contained the amount of disgusting selfishness, which it daily exhibited.

He was only miserly about spending money, that might result to the benefit, or injury, of any one but himself. In the gratification of his own desires, he was a thorough spendthrift.

I had heard one of the miners tell a story, illustrative of Bat’s disposition. For amusement, the miner had made an experiment, to see, to what extent, selfishness would, as he expressed it, “carry Bat on the way to hell.”

He enticed this large-souled individual, to go with him on a “spree;” upon which, he treated him five times in succession.

Bat had by this time imbibed a strong desire for more drink; and after waiting for some time for his companion to treat him again, he slipped to one side, and took a drink alone – without asking the other to join him.

After this, the miner treated him twice more; and not long after, Bat again drank alone, at his own expense!

By this time both of them had become pretty well intoxicated; and the spree came to a termination, by Bat’s receiving a terrible thrashing from the convive, who had been vainly tempting him to spend his money.

Bat’s mate, the drayman, knew but little about him – only having joined him as a partner the evening before we started for the Avoca.

On the first day of our journey, late in the afternoon, we arrived at a roadside grog-shop; and all went in for something to drink. Inside the house, were three ill-looking men, who had the appearance of having once lived in Van Dieman’s Land. The shop was a very colonial affair; and, after drinking some poison, called rum, we all came out – leaving Bat weighing some gold, which he had taken out of a leather bag, in presence of all the company. It was to pay for a bottle of brandy, which, as we were going to camp out for the night, he had purchased – for the purpose of making himself comfortable.

Darkness overtook us about a mile or so beyond the grog-shop; and water being near the place, we resolved to stay by it for the night.

Bat came up, just after we had kindled our fire; and drank some tea along with us. He had brought with him two bottles of brandy, instead of one, the second being for his mate, the drayman, who had commissioned him to buy it for him. Seeing these two bottles of brandy in the camp, I did not care about staying on the spot. I believed that the drayman, Bat, and the other digger who accompanied them, would get drunk; and I did not fancy to remain in their company.

I took up my blankets; and, going about two hundred yards off from the camp – to a grove of bushes – I rolled myself in my cover, and slept soundly till the morning.

At sunrise I awoke; and went back to rejoin my travelling companions.

On drawing near the encampment, I saw that something was wrong; and I hastened forward. Bat was not there, but the drayman was, and also the digger. Both were tied with their hands behind their backs, and, furthermore, fastened to the wheels of the dray. I saw that both of them were gagged!

I lost no time in releasing them from their unpleasant imprisonment; and as soon as I had ungagged them, they told me what had happened. About the middle of the night, four men had come up, armed with revolvers, which they had held to the heads of the drayman and digger, while they tied and gagged them. The two were then robbed of all their money, after which, the bush-rangers went their way – taking along with them the drayman’s horse.

“But where is Bat?” I asked.

“We don’t know,” was the reply. “He went away soon after you did.”

Circumstances looked suspicious against Bat; but only to me: for the others understood all that had happened. Bat had determined to keep his bottle of brandy to himself. By remaining with the others, he could not well drink it all without asking them to have a share, as he had already been treated by his partner. To avoid doing so he had stolen away to the bush, where he could drink his liquor alone.

“The men who robbed us,” said the disconsolate drayman, “could be no others than them we saw in the grog-shop; and it was my mate Bat who drew them on to us: for they seemed greatly disappointed, and swore fearfully at not finding him. He flashed his gold-dust before them yesterday; and, of course they came after us to get it. I wish they had got every ounce of it. He deserved to be robbed for tempting them.”

“Have you lost much?” I asked, of the drayman.

“No,” answered he. “Luckily, I had not much to lose – only seventeen pounds. But I care more about my old horse, for I’ve owned him over three years.”

The digger had lost twelve pounds in cash, and a gold nugget of seven ounces weight.

While both were lamenting their mishap, Bat made his appearance from the bush; and began finding fault with his mate, for not having breakfast ready, and the horse harnessed for a start. The effects of the bottle of brandy had only increased the disagreeable peculiarities of Bat’s character; and given him a good appetite.

He was now told what had happened, which made him a little more amiable. But his amiableness could be traced to the fact of his being conceited of the swinish selfishness of which he had been guilty. He seemed highly delighted to think he had had the good fortune to escape the mischance that had befallen his companions; and, instead of sympathising with them, he actually boasted of his luck, putting it forward as a proof of his possessing more than ordinary sagacity.

“Will you have a little brandy?” asked his mate, in a tone of voice that told me the offer was not made in a friendly spirit. “There’s a drop left in my bottle, which, luckily, the bush-rangers did not get hold of.”

“Of course I will,” answered Bat. “Brandy is a thing I never refuse, especially when on the road, and after camping out all night. Let’s have it.”

The drayman produced his bottle, along with his tin pannikin. The former was about half full, and its contents were poured into the cup.

When Bat reached forth his hand to take hold of the vessel, the brandy was thrown into his face; and the next instant he himself fell heavily to the earth – from the effects of a blow administered by the clenched fist of the drayman!

Bat rose to his feet, and tried to show fight; but no efforts he could make, either offensive or defensive, hindered him from getting his deserts. It was the first time I had ever been pleased at the sight of one man punishing another.

After getting a thorough thrashing from his irate partner, Bat took up his blankets, and then started back along the road towards Ballarat – having, for some reason or other, changed his mind about going to Avoca.

I paid the drayman what I had agreed to give him for taking my “swag;” and, accompanied by the digger, who had been robbed along with him, I continued my journey afoot – each of us carrying his own blankets and tent. We left the poor drayman alone with his dray, in what the Yankees call a “fix,” for he dare not leave the vehicle, and the goods it contained, to go in search of a horse, and without one it would be impossible for him to transport his property from the place.

I would have stopped along with him for a day or two, and lent him some assistance, had it not been, that he was one of those unfortunate creatures so often met in the Australian colonies, who seldom speak without using some of the filthy language imported there from the slums of London. For this reason I left him to get out of his difficulty the best way he could; and, for all I know to the contrary, he is still keeping guard over his dray, and the miscellaneous lading it contained.