The Gold Hunters' Adventures Part 129

"Stand back, or I'll let daylight into you," shouted the fellow, drawing a long knife, and acting upon the defensive, and the way he handled the reaper showed that he was in earnest.

We both hesitated for a moment, for the purpose of better addressing the person who was so peremptory in his threats, but first I took the precaution of possessing myself of a long smooth-bore gun which was lying near him, and which he had forgotten to seize upon being surprised.

The man before us was about six feet high, (when he appeared in the character of a ghost, we thought he would measure nine,) with long hair, and beard of fiery red, which seemed as though it had not felt the touch of comb or scissors for months. Two little eyes almost concealed, and overhanging eyebrows, glanced suspiciously at us, and watched our movements, with an evident impression that we intended mischief, and that if such was the case their owner was to be counted in for a fight.

Upon the back and person of the red-haired man were sheepskins, made to fit his body, with the wool outside. These we had imagined were grave-clothes, and had nearly broken our necks to escape from the wearer. We could not refrain from indulging in a hearty laugh at our late flight and the occasion of it, but our mirth made no impression upon the mysterious being before us.

"No ye don't," he shouted, brandis.h.i.+ng his knife before our eyes as though we intended to entrap him into some snare. "You mustn't think that ye is goin' to fool an honest man who is digging for roots by the full of the moon."

"You dig rather deep for roots," said Mr. Brown, stepping to the edge of the excavation, and looking down in spite of the threatening appearance of the red-haired individual.

"I'll dig as deep as I please," he answered quickly.

"Of course I would," returned Mr. Brown. "Who knows but you may find a buried treasure there if you keep on digging?"

"Is that what you coveys was arter?" demanded the red head, with a degree of interest which he had not shown before. "I 'spected it when I seed you yesterday crossing the Lodden, and I determined to watch."

"What are you doing in this part of the country?" asked Mr. Brown, rather sternly, "as a recollection of the loss of his bottle of liquor the night before began to dawn upon his mind.

"You have no right to question me any more than I have you," was the sulky response.

"Who are you then?" the other asked, somewhat impatiently.

"That's for you to find out the best way you can. If confidence is wanted, why, tell me who you are," and the red-haired genius seated himself on the edge of the excavation, as though awaiting an answer, although he still kept in sight his long and dangerous looking knife.

"I know who you are," my friend said, at a venture; "you are a shepherd on the Hawkswood estate. We are officers of the law from Ballarat."

"It's a lie," was the brief rejoinder. "I don't believe any thing of the kind."

"You d----d vagabond," cried Mr. Brown, s.n.a.t.c.hing the long gun from my hand and presenting it to the fellow's heart, "I have a strong desire to blow your liver out."

"You wouldn't shoot a fellow with his own gun, would you?" the impudent scamp asked, without manifesting any serious apprehension of our doing so.

"Well, no, I hardly think that would be just," replied Mr. Brown, lowering the muzzle of the gun, and beginning to think that he had met with a strange customer, whom it was better to conciliate than to cross.

"Come, tell a feller who you is," the red-haired genius remarked "do you belong to Buskin's gang, or is you on your own tramp?"

"Neither suggestion is correct--we are not bushrangers, and never expect to be. We are men of the law. Now tell us who you are," my companion said, calmly seating himself near the stranger, and lighting his pipe,--a proceeding that appeared to interest him intensely, for he snuffed the burning tobacco like a war horse within sight of a battle field.

"Just give me one draw of that 'ere pipe first," pleaded the would-be ghost, and his request was gratified.

"Real 'bacco, and a real clay pipe, by the b.l.o.o.d.y jingoes," he exclaimed. "It's many a day since I've had a taste of 'em afore."

In fact the tobacco appeared to open his heart amazingly, and in a short time we had his whole history.

"My name," the stranger said, "is Day Bly, although I'm commonly called Day, for short. I was dragged up in London, and when I was twelve years of age I was apprenticed to an undertaker. I used to take care of the shop, clean the hea.r.s.e, and sleep in a coffin, with old pieces of mouldy velvet thrown over me to keep me warm in the night time.

"When I ate my meals, it was brought out of master's house by one of the servant girls, and set on a pine coffin, such as we used to furnish the poor devils who hadn't got much money, and who couldn't afford to go the expensive ones. When we had a holiday, such as Christmas, I'd slyly move the grub to one of the polished silver-plated affairs, and imagined that I was seated at a real mahogany table, and I tell you things use to taste better.

"I kept that up until one day I had a dish of meat, that, by some mistake, never satisfactorily accounted for, was really warm, and it took the polish from the slap-up affair, and left a white mark. For that I got licked, and rebuked for my presumption to aristocracy. I didn't mind a flogging in those days, 'cos I was use to 'em, and let me tell you that London 'prentices, as a general thing, get more blows than holidays."

"That's so," muttered Mr. Brown, who appeared to deeply sympathize with the speaker in that portion of his narrative.

"I grew up," continued the red-haired individual, whose cognomen was Day, "quite fond of corpses."

I shuddered, and turned my head to see if there were any lying near, for I didn't consider that the subject was a very proper one to talk about at that time of night, and under the circ.u.mstances I should have prepared a more agreeable topic.

"The gentleman needn't be afeard," muttered the fellow, with a sneer; "corpses won't hurt a feller, 'cos I've tried 'em."

He had seen me flinch at the word, and improved his opportunity to show his hardihood.

"In fact, as I growed older," Day continued, "I was quite useful in my way, and got trusted by master with some important jobs. I could lay out a poor covey, who hadn't any money, with as much despatch as any 'prentice in London, and when you come to the mourning part I was really terrible. I could groan more unearthly and oftener than any mute that master employed."

"Did you not give us a specimen to-night?" I asked.

"Well, yes, I think that I did pretty well to-night, but I was too anxious to frighten you off to pay particular attention to my business.

I'll show you what I can do, if you'll just listen."

But I declined to hear him, and the undertaker's ex-apprentice continued his story:

"I used sometimes to be borrowed by rival undertakers just 'cos I could groan so beautiful, and had I been contented to have worked my way up in the world, until I got the position of head mute, I shouldn't be here, surrounded by this d----d cloud of mosquitoes, and not a particle of tobacco to put in my pipe, and no friend to offer me a bit."

The hint was so strong that I could not refuse to gratify our new acquaintance with a small piece of the weed, which was received with a grunt, expressive of grat.i.tude.

"As I was saying," continued Day, filling his pipe while talking, "I was always an ambitious cuss, and used to like plenty of money to spend on dress and cheap jewelry, but I couldn't always get it; one day my fellow 'prentice made a proposal, which he stated would fill our pockets and enable us to sport 'round nights in great style. I was ready to listen to any thing that he had to offer, and then I learned that a doctor that lived next street wanted us to supply him with subjects, for which we were to receive two pounds each.

"Well, we used to go out nights with a cart, drive up to some burying ground, where we had planted a feller the day before, whip him out of his coffin, and be off in less than fifteen minutes. In that way we used to make a pretty good thing of it, and we had so much money that we could keep drunk about two thirds of the time. At length some meddling old fool suspected us, and one night we were caught by the police, with a body in our charge. We tried to shake the b.l.o.o.d.y swabs off, but it was no go. We were jugged, and the first thing I knowed my companion, who had put me up to the work, peached, and saved his precious carca.s.s from being transported."

"How long was you sent for, Day?" asked Mr. Brown.

"Ten years--four of 'em I pa.s.sed at hard labor, and then I got a ticket of leave, and came out here as a shepherd. I have been here two years last February, and should like well enough if I had plenty of 'bacco and rum. Them 'ere things is hard to get in this part of the world, and I haven't tasted a drop of rum for two months afore last night, when I got a sup out of your pack."

Mr. Brown ground his teeth with suppressed emotion.

"How dared you meddle with our property?" demanded my companion.

"'Cos, how did I know it was yourn. I found the pack covered with bushes, and I 'spose a man is ent.i.tled to what he finds in this part of the country?"

"That depends upon circ.u.mstances," replied Mr. Brown, with a cautious glance at the place where Day had been excavating. "For instance, if you have found a quant.i.ty of gold dust where you have been digging, it would not belong to you but to the lawful owners, or the agent of the owners, sent to recover it."

"I don't know about that," cried the red-headed genius, with a cunning glance from his little eyes, "but I do know that if I find any thing here I shall hold on to it until somebody stronger than myself comes along. I 'spose you would do so, and I shall."

"Before we quarrel on that point," I said, "perhaps you will inform us how you knew we were in search of hidden gold?"

"But I didn't know till I saw you begin to dig. I was lying under a palm tree when you crossed the Lodden yesterday, and I strongly suspected from your looks that you were bushrangers in search of a dish of mutton, in which case I should have tacked your bodies with a ball from my gun.

I followed you a few steps, and then crossed your trail, skirted Mount Tarrengower, and from the summit of a gum tree I watched your motions until dark, when I stole towards your camp for the purpose of listening to your conversation. I heard 'enough to convince me that you were in search of hidden treasure, but before I could make out your plans you moved your camp to the Lodden, but left your pack behind, for which act of thoughtfulness I am much your debtor."

"And to defeat our plans you turned ghost," I said.