Before the evening of Wednesday the 20th, we passed through Kyneton, and found ourselves in the little village of Carlshrue, where we passed the night. Here is a police-station, a blacksmith's, a few stores and some cottages, in one of which we obtained a comfortable supper and beds. A lovely view greeted us at sunrise. Behind us were still towering the lofty ranges of Mount Alexander, before us was Mount Macedon and the Black Forest. This mountain, which forms one of what is called the Macedon range, is to be seen many miles distant, and on a clear, sunny day, the purple sides of Mount Macedon, which stands aloof as it were, from the range itself, are distinctly visible from the flag-staff at Melbourne.
We had intended to have stopped for the night in Kyneton, but the charges there were so enormous that we preferred pushing on and taking our chance as to the accommodation Carlshrue could afford, nor did we repent the so doing.
The following are the Kyneton prices. A meal or bed—both bad—4s; a night's stabling, one pound ten shillings per horse; hay at the rate of 9d. a pound; this is the most exorbitant charge of all.
Hay was somewhere about 20 pounds a ton in Melbourne. The carriage of it to Kyneton, now that the fine weather was setting in, would not exceed 8 pounds a ton at the outside, which would come to 28 pounds. The purchaser, by selling it at Kyneton at the rate of 9d. a pound, or 75 pounds per ton, cleared a profit of 47 pounds—NOT QUITE 200 PER CENT. If THIS is not fortune-making, I should like to know what is. It beats the diggings hollow.
Next morning we looked our last at "sweet Carlshrue," and having crossed the Five Mile Creek, camped for our mid-day meal beside the Black Forest. Here a slight discussion arose, as to whether it would be more advisable to proceed on our journey and camp in the Black Forest that night, or whether we should remain where we were outside, and recommence our journey in good time the next morning so as to get through this most uncomfortable portion of our travels in one day. Frank and Octavius were for the latter plan, as the best and safest, but the rest (thinking that, having once travelled through it without encountering any thing resembling a bushranger, they might safely do so again) protested against wasting time, and were for entering those dark shades without further delay. The uncle of Octavius whom, in future, for the sake of convenience, I shall call Mr. L——, was also of this mind, and as he was in some sort our leader during the journey, his advice decided the matter. Danger to him was only a necessary excitement. He was naturally fearless, and his merry laugh and gay joke at the expense of the bushranger fearing party gradually dissipated the unaccountable presentiment of danger which I for one had in no small degree experienced.
On we went, up hill and down dale, sometimes coming to a more open piece of ground, but more generally threading our way amid a very maze of trees, with trunks all black as the ground itself, whilst the dingy foliage and the few rays of sunshine that lit up those dark, deep glades served only to heighten the gloominess around.
After walking for about six miles—I preferred that mode of getting along to the joltings of the dray—we all felt disposed to rest ourselves. We selected a spot where the trees were less thickly clustered, and taking the horses out of the dray, tethered them by strong ropes to some trees near. The dray itself was turned up, and a blanket thrown over the up-raised shafts formed a most complete and cosy little tent.
A fire was next kindled, and a kettle full of water (with the tea in it!) was placed on to boil, some home-made bread, brought from Carlshrue, was placed upon the ground, and some chops were toasted on the ends of sticks, which are usually the impromptu toasting-forks of the bush. The old tin plates and pannicans, not quite so bright as once upon a time, but showing, despite sundry bruises and scratches, that they had seen better days, were placed upon the tea-table, which of course was the ground. Two or three knives and forks were on general service, and wandered about from hand to hand as occasion required. Altogether it was a merry, sociable party, and I think I enjoyed that supper better than any I ever tasted before or since.
"CHACUN A SON GOUT," many a one will say.
The pleasantest moments must come to an end, and so did these. After having sat up later than usual, Jessie and I retired to our gipsy tent, leaving our guardian diggers smoking round the fire. They meant to keep watches during the night to prevent a surprise.
FRIDAY.—We were comfortably seated at our breakfast, discussing a hundred subjects besides the food before us, when a shrill "coo-ey" burst through the air; "coo-ey"—"coo-ey" again and again, till the very trees seemed to echo back the sound. We started to our feet, and, as if wondering what would come next, looked blankly at each other, and again the "coo-ey," more energetic still, rang in our ears. This is the call of the bush, it requires some little skill and practice, and when given well can be heard a great way off. In such a place as the Black Forest it could only proceed from some one who had lost their way, or be a signal of distress from some party in absolute danger. We again looked from one to the other—it bewildered us; and again the cry, only more plaintive than before, came to us. Simultaneously they seized their pistols, and started in the direction whence the sounds proceeded. They were all too true Englishmen to hear a fellow-creature in peril and not hasten to their succour.
Jessie and myself could not remain behind alone—it was impossible; we followed at a little distance, just keeping our comrades in sight. At last they came to a halt, not knowing where to turn, and we joined them. Frank gave a "coo-ey," and in about the space of a minute the words "help, help,—come, come," in scarcely, audible sounds, answered to the call. We penetrated about thirty yards farther, and a few low groans directed us to a spot more obscure, if possible, than the rest. There, firmly bound to two trees close together, were two men. A thick cord was passed round and round their bodies, arms, and legs, so as to leave no limb at liberty. They seemed faint and exhausted at having called so long for help.
It was the work of a moment for our party to fling down their pistols, take out knives and tomahawks, and commence the work of releasing them from their bonds. But the cords were knotted and thick, and there seemed no little labour in accomplishing it. They were also retarded by the small quantity of light, for, as I said before, it was a dark and secluded spot. At length one man was released, and so faint and exhausted was he, from the effects of whatever ill-usage he had suffered, that, being a tall, powerfully made man, it required the united strength of both Frank and Mr. L—— to prevent his falling to the ground.
Jessie and myself were standing a little apart in the shade; we seemed as if spell-bound by the incident, and incapable of rendering any assistance.
The second was soon set at liberty, and no sooner did he feel his hands and feet free from the cords than he gave a loud, shrill "coo-ey."
A shriek burst from Jessie's lips as, immediately the cry was uttered, and before any one could, recover from the bewilderment it occasioned, four well-armed men sprang upon our startled party.
Taken thus at disadvantage, unarmed, their very knives flung down in their eagerness to untwist the cords, they were soon overpowered. The wretch who had been reclining in Frank's arms quickly found his feet, and, ere Frank could recover from his surprise, one heavy blow flung him to the ground; whilst the other twined his powerful arms round Mr. L——, and, after a short but sharp struggle, in which he was assisted by a fellow-villain, succeeded in mastering him.
It was a fearful sight, and I can hardly describe my feelings as I witnessed it. My brain seemed on fire, the trees appeared to reel around me, when a cold touch acted as a sudden restorative, and almost forced a scream from my lips. It was Jessie's hand, cold as marble, touching mine. We spoke together in a low whisper, and both seemed inspired by the same thoughts, the same hope.
"I saw a little hill as we came here," said Jessie; "let's try and find it and look out for help."
I instinctively followed her, and stealthily creeping along, we gained a small rise of ground which commanded a more extended view than most places in the Black Forest, and, but for the thickness of the trees, we could have seen our own camping-place and the part where the ambuscade had been laid. From sounds of the voices, we could tell that the ruffians were leading their prisoners to the spot where we had passed the night, and the most fearful oaths and imprecations could ever and anon be heard. Well might our hearts beat with apprehension, for it was known that when disappointed in obtaining the gold they expected, they vented their rage in torturing their unfortunate victims.
Meanwhile Jessie seemed listening intently. The time she had spent in the bush and at the diggings had wonderfully refined her sense of hearing. Suddenly she gave a shrill "coo-ey." The moment after a shot was fired in the direction of our late camp. Jessie turned even paler, but recovering herself, "coo-ey" after "coo-ey" made the echoes ring. I joined my feeble, efforts to hers; but she was evidently well used to this peculiar call. On a fine still day, this cry will reach for full three miles, and we counted upon this fact for obtaining some assistance.
"Help is coming," said Jessie, in a low voice, and once more with increasing strength she gave the call.
Footsteps approached nearer and nearer. I looked up, almost expecting to see those villainous countenances again.
"Women in danger!" shouted a manly voice, and several stalwart figures bounded to our side.
"Follow, follow!" cried Jessie, rushing forwards. I scarcely remember everything that occurred, for I was dizzy with excess of pleasure. There was a short scuffle, shots were fired at retreating bushrangers, and we saw our friends safe and free.
The whole, matter was then related to our preservers—for such they were—and I then learnt that when the bushrangers had marched off our party to the camping-place, they proceeded to overhaul their pockets, and then bound them securely to some trees, whilst one stood ready with a pistol to shoot the first that should call for help, and the others looked over the plunder. This was little enough, for our travelling money, which was notes, was kept—strange treasury—in the lining of the body of my dress, and here too were the gold receipts from the Escort Office. Every night I took out about sufficient to defray the day's expenses, and this was generally given into Frank's hands.
Enraged and disappointed, the villains used most frightful language, accompanied by threats of violence; and the one on guard, irritated beyond his powers of endurance, fired the pistol in the direction of William's head. At this moment Jessie's first "coo-ey" was heard: this startled him, and the shot, from the aim of the pistol being disarranged, left him unhurt.
"It's that d——d child," muttered one, with a few, additional oaths; "we'll wring her neck when we've secured the plunder."
One of the ruffians now attempted more persuasive measures, and addressing Mr. L——, whom I suppose he considered the leader, expended his powers of persuasion much in the following manner.
"You sees, mate, we risks our lives to get your gold, and have it we will. Some you've got somewhere or another, for you havn't none on you got no paper from the Escort—you planted it last night, eh? Jist show us where, and you shan't be touched at all, nor that little wretch yonder, what keeps screeching so; but if you don't—" and here his natural ferocity mastered him, and he wound up with a volley of curses, in the midst of which our rescuers rushed upon them.
When we came to talk the whole matter over calmly and quietly, no doubt was left upon our minds, as to the premeditation of the whole affair. But for the watch kept, the attack would most probably have been made during the night.
Our timely friends were a party of successful diggers returning, from work. They too had passed the night in the Black Forest—providently not very far from us. They accepted our thanks in an off-hand sort of way, only replying—which was certainly true—"that we would have done the same for them." It was in endeavouring to assist assumed sufferers that our party fell into the ambuscade laid for them.
They waited whilst we got the dray and horses ready, and we all journeyed on together, till the Black Forest was far behind us. We saw no more of the bushrangers, and encamped that night a few miles beyond the "Bush Inn." At this inn we parted with our gallant friends. They were of the jovial sort, and having plenty of gold, were determined on a spree. We never met them again.
On Saturday we travelled as far as the "Deep Creek Inn." Some distance before reaching that place, we passed two rival coffee-shops on the road. We stopped at the first, to know if they had any uncooked or cold meat to sell, for our provisions were running low.
"Havn't none," said the woman, shaking her head. Then looking hard at William, and judging from his good-humoured face, that he was a likely one to do what she wanted, she said to him. "Now, Sir, I'm agoing to ax a favour of you, and that is to go a little farther down the road, to the other coffee-tent, and buy for me as much meat as they'll let you have. They's got plenty, and I've none; and they knows I'll lose custom by it, so you'll not get it if they twigs (ANGLICE guesses) you comes from me. You understand, Sir," and she put sovereign into his hand to pay for it.
Laughing at the comicality of the request, and the thoroughly colonial coolness of making it, William set off, and presently returned with nearly half a sheep hanging over his shoulders, and a large joint in one hand.
"Bless me, what luck!" exclaimed the delighted woman, and loud and profuse were her thanks. She wanted to cook us a good dinner off the meat gratis; but this we steadily refused and purchasing enough for the present, we put our drays again into motion, and a little while after kindled a fire, and were our own cooks as usual. That night we camped beside the Deep Creek, about a mile from the "Deep Creek Inn." The route we were now taking was different to the one we had travelled going up—it was much more direct.
We remained all Sunday beside the creek, and the day passed quietly and pleasantly.
On Monday the 25th we were again in motion. We passed the well known inn of Tulip Wright's. How great a change those few weeks had made! Winter had given place to summer, for Australia knows no spring. We walked along the beautiful road to Flemington, gave a look at the flagstaff and cemetery, turned into Great Bourke Street, halted at the Post-office, found several letters, and finally stopped opposite the "Duke of York Hotel," where we dined.
I shall leave myself most comfortably located here, whilst I devote a chapter or two to other diggings.
All books are sourced from Project Gutenberg