_ CHAPTER XLIV. THRASHING A BULLY
We slept long past, our usual hour for rising, and were awakened by the violent baying of Rover, and loud shouts of "Kill him! kill him!"
The cries were near our premises, and we lost no time in throwing on our clothes and seeking to investigate the matter. A crowd of people were hurrying towards the banks of the river, or rather what was a river in the wet season, for at the present time there was not water enough in its bed to quench the thirst of a bird, and we joined them without delay.
"What is the matter?" I asked of one excited individual, who appeared more anxious to get in at the death than his companions.
"Darned if I know. I heard the cry of 'Kill him,' and I suppose somebody has been stealing something. Don't bother me with questions, for I want to be in at the death."
Another wild shout from the crowd in front hastened our movements, and Fred and myself threw ourselves into the excited mass, and strove to gain a place where we could afford some help to the thief, in case the confusion was occasioned by one. By struggling desperately we managed to got into the centre of the crowd, and saw that a young man was in the custody of two miners, and that they were disposed to take summary vengeance upon the fellow for the alleged crime of stealing their dust, which they had concealed in their tent. All this was told to us in the space of a few seconds' time, and meanwhile the air was filled with cries of "Kill him," "Lynch him," "Hang him," "Let's stone him to death," &c.
The young fellow was terribly frightened, and was begging for mercy in the most piteous tones, and appealing to those by whom he was surrounded to save him, for he was innocent of the crime, and never stole a dollar in his life. There was something in the lad's face that convinced me that he spoke the truth, yet we did not like to interfere and get the wrath of the ruffians turned upon ourselves, and yet we did not care to stand idly by and witness the ill-treatment of a boy, who seemed unused to the rough scenes of the mines. Each of his captors had a hand upon his collar, and even during the excitement I could not help contrasting the fineness of his skin with the horny, leather-colored skin of his accusers.
"So help me Heaven, gentlemen, I never stole any thing in my life," cried the lad; and his voice was soft, and so different from those by whom he was surrounded, I was convinced he belonged to some aristocratic family, and had sliced to Australia in search of fortune, perhaps to help sustain his sinking house.
"You lie, you young whelp; you know you lie," cried one of the miners, shaking the boy by the collar so roughly that I was fearful he would dislocate his bones.
"I do not lie, gentlemen; upon my honor, I do not. Don't choke me so hard--you hurt me," cried the boy, putting a small hand upon the miner's rough paws, as though his slight strength was likely to effect any thing in the way of obtaining a cessation of their cruelty.
"I've had my eye on you for some time," cried one of the men, "and I knew I should get hold of you at last. What was you doing in our tent when we woke up this morning? Answer me that, will you?"
Between them both they shook the boy so roughly that he burst into tears, and was incapable of uttering a word. This, instead of exciting feelings of compassion in the breasts of the miners, caused them to shout with sardonic laughter, and mock him by sobbing in imitation. It was during the latter performance that Fred, followed by myself, squeezed into the small circle and confronted the two half-civilized brutes.
"Don't hurt the lad," cried Fred, in a mild tone. "He is nothing but a boy, and if he did take your dust perhaps he can make some explanation that will satisfy you."
"Hullo," ejaculated one of the fellows, with a stare, "who in the devil are you, I should like to know?"
"That is of no consequence, at present," replied Fred, in a tone of excessive mildness. "The question is regarding this boy. I think there must be some mistake in your accusations, and if you will give him into my charge I will make up to you all that he has taken, provided you can prove that you have lost any thing."
"Hullo, boys, here's a couple of the young thief's pals. Down with 'em both."
We had expected such a cry, and knew how to meet it. Instead, therefore, of looking frightened, and attempting to escape from the circle, we remained perfectly cool and self-possessed, and those who had pressed forward to lay hands upon us drew back and awaited further developments.
The youngster, who was still retained by the two miners, had, upon our first interference in his behalf, trembled with hope; but when he heard the savage cries, his heart seemed to sink within him, and he appeared as though about to faint.
"You are choking the lad to death," cried Fred. "Don't you see that he can hardly breathe? Let me take charge of him until the police call for him."
"Do you suppose that we are fools?" replied one of the men, who was disposed to be more obstinate than his companions. We knows rogues when we sees 'em."
"Then it's probable you know your own face when you consult a looking-glass," Fred said; and the bitter taunt told well with the crowd, for they roared with laughter, and appeared to be changing their views regarding the guilt of the lad.
The ruffian looked at us for a moment, as though almost determined to rush upon us and try his strength in an encounter; but our coolness confounded him, and he hesitated, and appeared to seek counsel by looking upon the numerous faces by which he was surrounded.
"You ain't a-going to let a couple of bushrangers abuse honest miners who pays their taxes, and only axes for what is right, is you?" the fellow said.
"No, no; you shan't be hurt, Tom," a number of the crowd said, the epithet of bushranger being sufficient to excite the worst prejudices of the miners; and we saw that already a number of lowering brows were bent upon us, and that but a few words were required to cause the whole pack to yelp in concert.
Tom saw his advantage, and was quick to follow it up with another blow.
"I knows that this little devil [giving his prisoner a shake] is in league with these fellows, and that they sent him into town for the purpose of robbing us honest miners, and they intended to wait outside until he returned. He didn't jine 'em, and now they want to get him out of our hands so that they can all make their escape. Let's lynch all three."
"Lynch 'em! Lynch 'em!" were the cries, and the crowd pressed towards us to carry into effect the words.
Fred's hand involuntarily sought his revolver, but I restrained him.
"No firearms," I whispered; "if we shed a drop of their blood we are doomed men. Keep cool, and trust to chance."
"Miners of Ballarat, will you hear me?" I shouted, determined to make one more appeal to them, and then try the virtues of a revolver, for I did not wish to die unavenged.
"No, no; we've heard enough! Down with the bushrangers!" cried Tom, yelling with exultation, and the crowd took up the cry and reechoed it.
"I have a proposition to make," cried Fred, and his loud voice was heard above the tumult, and curiosity outweighed the thirst for vengeance.
"What's the proposition? spit it out!" shouted the crowd; "will you come down liberal with stolen property?"
There was a general roar of laughter at this sally, and when it had died away, Fred said,--
"This man [pointing to Tom] says that we are bushrangers, which we deny, and can prove that we are honest miners, like yourselves. [Sensation.] We do not propose to bandy words with him, because he is a contemptible coward, and dare not impose upon any one but a little boy. That is not characteristic of the miners of Ballarat, for long before we reached this part of the country, we were told they were foes to tyranny. [Faint indications of applause.] We tell the man who called us bushrangers that he is a liar, and that we require satisfaction, or an abject apology from him for the insult."
There were cries and yells of--
"That's right--go in, old fellow--a ring, a ring--let 'em fight--he's a brick, ain't he?" &c.
Tom turned slightly pale, and seemed confused with the way that the affair was likely to work. The crowd saw it, and were the more strenuous for the acceptance of Fred's proposition.
"You see, gentlemen," my friend exclaimed, "the man who calls himself a miner of Ballarat is nothing but a coward. He never worked in a shaft, or dug an ounce of gold in his life. He is nothing but a 'packer,' and dare not face a man; but can beat boys and natives, because he knows they cannot resist him."
"Let him fight, or we'll lynch him," yelled the crowd; and thousands, who a few minutes before were ready to crush us beneath their feet, suddenly arrayed themselves on our side, and pressed towards the miner with scornful looks.
"I'll fight the feller," Tom said, after a few minutes' silence, "but it shall be in the old English style, stand up and knock down. I'll have no pistols, 'cos I never used 'em, and don't think I could hit a man, any how."
"A fight, a fight! form a ring!" and the proposition for a combat _a la fistiana_ was received with joy by every Englishman present.
"O, don't, sir," exclaimed the youth who had been the cause of the trouble; "don't expose yourself on my account."
"Don't be alarmed," returned Fred; "I'd fight a dozen men, sooner than one hair of your head should be touched."
"Remember," Fred continued, turning to the crowd, "that if I come off best in the fight, the boy goes with me."
"Yes, yes, we understand the conditions of the fight. Form a ring; stand back there;" and the crowd shouted, and swayed to and fro, and during the tumult we saw a sturdy fellow struggling towards us, as though to get a front view. The man, whose face I thought I had seen before, was not deterred by slight obstacles, and by dint of using his elbows vigorously, and treading on his neighbors' corns, he soon got within a few feet of us.
"And it's sitting him a-fighting, is it, ye spalpeens?" cried the fellow, with a Hibernian accent that was not to be mistaken; and he looked around the crowd, as though he wished some one would pick a quarrel with him, for the sake of variety.
"And it's bushrangers ye think they is, do ye?" the Irishman continued, scornfully; "do ye think ye would know a thafe if ye seed one? Can't ye tell a rale gintleman from a snaking blackguard?"
"What is the matter, Pat?" the miners asked, good-naturedly, most of those present appearing to know our new defender.
"Matter, is it?" he repeated, scornfully; "I tells ye that if a hair of these two gintlemen's is hurted, I'll lick the whole of ye, blackguards that ye is."
A roar of laughter followed this speech, which excited the Irishman's indignation to its fullest extent.
"Ye laugh, do ye? It's little ye would laugh if ye saw these two gintlemen dressing the cuts and sores of poor miners who had divil a ha'penny to pay the doctor with. It's little ye would laugh if ye had seed this gintleman standing up and having a crack at old Pete Burley, the bully of Ballarat; and by me faith, he brought him down in less time than ye can descend a shaft with the crank broken."
The allusion to the expeditious manner in which miners sometimes went down a shaft, much against their will, and at a great loss to their personal dignity, was received with rounds of laughter.
"You know those men, then?" cried a fellow who had been remarkably officious during the disturbance.
"Men, are they?" cried our indignant champion, and he raised one of his huge fists and dropped it with full force upon the head of the speaker, and down he went, as though shot.
"Call them gintlemen, hereafter, or by the powers, I _strike_ ye, the next time I _hit_ ye."
There was another good-natured laugh at the expense of the fallen man, and at the Irishman's wit.
"Are these the two Americans who have recently arrived, and who were concerned in that duel with Burley?"
"Of coorse they is; and haven't they been giving a number of us poor divils medicine and good advice? O, by the powers, let me say the man that wants to hurt 'em, that's all!"
This announcement completely changed the feelings of the crowd, and the miners pressed forward, shook our hands in the most friendly manner, and we supposed that our trouble was over: but Tom was not disposed to give up his prisoner in that manner, and perhaps he was the more strongly inclined for a battle, because Fred's weight was much less than his own, and therefore he imagined that he would have things his own way at a game of fisticuffs.
"I am glad that the stranger is not a bushranger," Tom said, "but he must not expect to make laws for us poor miners. When we have dust stolen from us, we have a right to deal with the thief, and I shall claim my privilege." "That is only just," murmured the miners.
"I have already offered to pay you for all that the boy has stolen," Fred said, "but if that does not suit you, deliver him up to the police, and let him have an examination."
"I shan't do any thing of the kind. I caught him in my tent stealing gold dust, and I shall deal with him in the regular way; I shall give him two dozen lashes across his back, and then let him run."
"Mercy! mercy!" screamed the lad, clasping his hands imploringly, and endeavoring to throw himself at the feet of his captors. "Do not beat me, for Heaven's sake, for I am a--"
The rest of the boy's remarks were lost in the confusion which his outburst of grief occasioned, yet no one seemed disposed to interfere with the regular course of things, as the miner had custom to sustain him in his conduct.
"I'll stand by my bargain," the brute said, with a grim smile; "if the gentleman wants you, he can have you on the terms that he offered--a regular Englishman's battle, and fair play to all."
"Your proposition is accepted," cried Fred, turning to Tom, who did not receive the notice with that alacrity which we expected.
Fred threw off his jacket, and that was the signal for the formation of a ring some thirty feet wide in the centre; but the desperate struggles which were made to get within sight and hearing prevented the space from being very regular, and the ring from being very round.
The miner leisurely stripped off his superfluous clothing, and his form was large enough to strike terror into the hearts of those who had not made the art of self-defence a study for years, as I well knew that Fred had. The man's arms were brawny and muscular, and longer than Fred's, and when the two men took their positions, I confess that I had some fear for the safety of my friend. But if I looked fearful Fred did not, and no one could have traced upon his face the least emotion or sign of dismay.
But with all the ruffian's physical force, he looked far from confident, and I have no doubt that if he had possessed a sufficient excuse, he would have quitted the ring, and acknowledged the defeat without a struggle.
The Irishman and myself were Fred's seconds, and the miner who helped Tom hold the boy was obliged to relinquish his prize, and assist his friend, no one else volunteering.
For a few minutes after the men were placed, each stood upon the defensive, and waited for hostilities. It was no part of Fred's plan to begin the battle, as he wanted to discover whether Tom possessed science, as well as vast strength; and he was not in this respect kept long in suspense, for the miner advanced towards him, swinging his long arms and huge fists in the most ridiculous manner, and which caused the Irishman to shout,--
"Make way for the windmill, there."
A roar of laughter greeted the Irishman's sally, which caused Tom some confusion, and before he could recover from his bewilderment, Fred had sprang within his reach, and dealt him a blow that sent him reeling to the extremity of the ring, where he fell heavily upon the ground.
"The windmill goes stern fust, and no mistake. Holy St. Patrick! but isn't he groggy?"
The slang term groggy was well understood by those present, and when Tom gained his feet, he was saluted with another roar of laughter, that made him foam with rage.
He rushed towards Fred like a mad bull, and had he caught him in his arms, Fred would have fared none too well, for a time. But my friend darted one side, and as his adversary rushed past, he delivered another blow in the vicinity of the man's right ear, that stopped his headlong career, and he dropped to mother earth once more, baffled, bewildered, and discouraged.
"Hullo! Fighting here?" shouted a voice, and half-a-dozen policemen rushed into the ring, and pounced upon Fred and Tom before a third blow could be struck.
The assembled miners did not dare to interfere, for fear their licenses would be forfeited by the government commissioner. Therefore no murmuring was heard.
"Prize fighting, hey?" cried the sergeant of the force. "Away with them to the prison."
"Had you not better investigate first, Mr. Sergeant," I said, touching his arm.
He looked me full in the face, and I recognized the man as one whom we had met the day before, upon our return from Snakes' Paradise. His bold, confident air instantly deserted him, and he was as civil as I could desire.
"O, I beg your pardon, sir--I did not see you before," he said, touching his cap, with a military salute. "What can I do to serve you, sir?"
"You have my friend in custody. Of course, you recollect all the instructions of the inspector."
"To be sure I do, sir. I think that there must be some mistake here, and will instantly set him at liberty; but the miner who has dared to strike him shall be punished."
"That is unnecessary, as he has already been handled rather roughly," I said; and in a few words I explained to the policemen the origin of the affair.
"Ah, yes, I see, you were quite right in what you have done, and I regret that I didn't arrive on the ground before, to have saved you this annoyance. Release that gentleman," the sergeant said, turning to his men. "He is a friend of the inspector's."
The men obeyed without a word in opposition, and the crowd took courage at the sight, and attempted a feeble applause.
"As for you, sir," the sergeant said, turning to the miner, who appeared to be completely cowed by the array of force against him, and who expected nothing less than a sentence of thirty days' hard work on the roads for the part that he had taken in the fight, "you may thank these gentlemen for their forbearance in not urging your punishment, which you certainly deserve. Give the boy in charge of the gentlemen, and, mark me, I shall have an eye on your future habits."
The poor lad, half crazed with delight, shed tears at his deliverance, and declared that he would serve us to the best of his ability; while the fellows who had used him so harshly sneaked to their tents without uttering a word concerning their reputed robbery.
We thanked the sergeant for his interference, and with the lad walked to our store--but after we were clear of the crowd the boy appeared to be in a reflective mood, and scarcely exchanged a dozen words with us; and even when we told him that he should live with us for the present, and share our hard beds, his gratitude did not appear to be overpowering, and he hung his head as though he was not worthy of so much attention. _