THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER
 
 WORKS BY THE SAME AUTHOR 
 
 McGLUSKY'S GREAT ADVENTURE 
 GINGER AND McGLUSKY 
 PRESIDENT McGLUSKY 
 
 THE ADVENTURES OF SIGNOR 
 McGLUSKY 
 
 McGLUSKY THE GOLD SEEKER 
 RED HAWK 
 
 NUT BROWN WMAID AND NUT 
 BROWN MARE 
 
 HODDER AND STOUGHTON 
 LIMITED LONDON
 
 McGLUSKY 
 THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 BY 
 
 A. G. HALES 
 
 HODDER AND STOUGHTON 
 LIMITED LONDON
 
 PR 
 
 (,o/5 
 
 DEDICATED TO 
 
 BOB PURVIS 
 
 The old pioneer of the Australian and African 
 wilds, trail breaker, path finder, the man who 
 blazes the track for lesser men to follow even 
 now in the winter of his storm-tossed days 
 Cheerio, Bob, may this find you even in the 
 wilds of Nigeria and remind you of the old 
 days and 
 
 The Author 
 
 A. G. HALES 
 
 1482118
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAP. PACK 
 
 I. A BONNY MAID ..... I 
 
 II. MAIDA TELLS MCGLUSKY A SECRET . . 22 
 
 III. ON THE GOLD-RUSH .... 42 
 
 iv. MAIDA'S WILD ENDEAVOUR ... 68 
 
 V. THE FINDING OF THE GOLD-CLAIM . . 97 
 
 VI. " THE TIGER " GOLD-CLAIM . . .130 
 
 VII. LIFE IN A SUCCESSFUL GOLD-CAMP . . 154 
 
 VIII. A BLACK OUTLOOK FOR MAIDA . .179 
 
 IX. WHEN THE LOVE-BUG BITES . . . 211 
 
 X. THE INSPIRATION OF GINGER . . . 234 
 
 XI. BUTTERFLY AND GINGER SCOOP THE POOL . 263 
 
 xii. RODNEY'S GRIM HAZARD .... 289
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 A BONNY MAID 
 
 A ROUGH stone cottage, standing well back from a 
 trail that stretched all the way from Mount Olive to 
 the Crow's Nest, lifted its ugly, uncouth, shapeless mass 
 in the full glare of an Australian summer's day and 
 seemed to challenge the wilderness to deny its right to 
 be where it was, as a vanguard of civilisation. The 
 stones of which the house was built were all unhewn, 
 ragged and untrimmed, just as they had been blasted 
 out of some rocky hillside ; the carpentry, as repre- 
 sented by the door and windows, was as primitive as 
 the masonry ; yet, rude as the dwelling was, it looked 
 "homey," honest and hospitable. A wire fence ran 
 round the homestead, and marked it off from the wilds. 
 A few fowls strutted about, as if trying to convince 
 themselves they liked the glaring heat, and in the 
 shade of a few fruit-trees three or four dogs were 
 killing time and avenging themselves upon the flies 
 that tormented them. 
 
 The door opened, and Maida Lamarde came out 
 and walked a few paces from the house, and pushing 
 her sunbonnet a little back from her face, threw up 
 one hand, and peered from under it along the western 
 end of the trail. The dogs had risen as soon as^the girl 
 appeared, and with one accord moved in her direction,
 
 2 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 as if drawn by a magnet. One, a bonny little 
 fellow, half Irish terrier, half Yorkshire, looked in the 
 sunlight like a gleaming ball of rough gold a privi- 
 leged animal this, to judge by the way he raised himself 
 against the giiTs dress and licked her hand. A brindle 
 bull-bitch with a face ugly as a nightmare, waddled to 
 the other side of the lass and challenged her attention, 
 followed immediately by a snow-white bull-terrier of 
 perfect symmetry, and it was plainly to be seen that 
 bttween this latter pair there was little love lost. 
 Maida Lamarde dropped her hand, and ceased to peer 
 along the trail ; she turned her eyes upon the dogs, 
 and smiled as she patted first one head, then another, 
 distributing her favours impartially. Instantly the 
 brindle bull-dog attempted to convert itself into a 
 section of a circus, frolicking about under the mistaken 
 impression that it was acting gracefully. The girl 
 laughed, and the merriment displayed a set of teeth as 
 white as carded wool, and at the sound of her laughter, 
 a big, fine-looking staghound that had remained in 
 dignified reticence in the background, trotted forward 
 and claimed her attention. Lifting himself on his hind 
 legs, he placed his forepaws on the girl's shoulders, and 
 attempted to careus her face with his red tongue. The 
 Irish terrier, frantic with jealousy, made an assault on 
 the staghound, and the lassie promptly snapped him 
 up and held him in her arms, the other animals 
 leaping round her. Cuddling the terrier close, the 
 girl exclaimed 
 
 " Buck, you wee fool, what are you trying to commit 
 suicide for ? Old Mack will eat you one of these days, 
 he will sure."
 
 A BONNY MAID 3 
 
 Then she began to romp with the dogs, apparently 
 oblivious of the heat of the weather. 
 
 A jolly happy-looking woman appeared in the 
 doorway and stood smiling for a moment at the antics 
 of the brindle bull-dog. Then she spoke, and her voice 
 was like her face, happy and sweet 
 
 " You'll certainly get a sunstroke one 0' these fine 
 days, Maidee." Then, changing her tone to a note of 
 interrogation : " See nuthin' on th' track, girlie ? " 
 " Nuthin' doin', Mum ; Dad's later than usual." 
 " Hope those two colts he put in his team this trip 
 ain't givin' him trouble, Maidee." 
 
 " Take more'n that to trouble Dad, Mum." 
 " He ain't often late ; he's that punctual, I can most 
 set our old clock by th' comin's an' goin's of Dad's 
 team, girlie, an' if it ain't them colts that's delayin' 
 him, what is it ? " 
 
 "Dad's got six good horses in his waggon besides 
 the two colts, Mum ; p'raps he's broken an axle or 
 somethin' ; the track's rough comin' through th' gully 
 between th' hills." 
 
 " Yes, Maidee, it's a nasty bit o' road, that ; th' 
 grade's so steep an' th' rains hev washed holes in 
 between th' rock boulders ; still there ain't many men 
 can handle a team on a rough patch like Dad." 
 
 "There ain't none, not one," answered the young 
 voice with such a note of conviction that the matron 
 smiled broadly. 
 
 " You an' your daddy's a pair, girlie no man in the 
 world like him for you, an' no lass on earth like you f 'r 
 him ; can't fail in nothin', you two, in each other's 
 eyes."
 
 4 McGLUSKY THE GOLD -SEEKER 
 
 " He never does fail," answered the girl with 
 conviction, " an" 1 111 bet he whipped Jess Williams good 
 an 1 hard this mornhr, if he met him, an' he'd be most 
 sure to meet Jess at the Two Crows Hotel, it's where 
 they both water their horses at the junction of the new 
 trail an 1 the old trail." 
 
 The woman's face turned pale. 
 
 "What should he want to whip Jess Williams f'r, 
 girlie?" 
 
 " I dunno, Mum, only Dad said he would if he met 
 him." 
 
 "Jess is a big, strong man, an 1 years younger than 
 your daddy, girlie."" 
 
 Posh, that don't count ; Dad said he'd whip him 
 an 1 he will." 
 
 The woman looked anxiously along the western trail, 
 and the girl went to her and rubbed her smooth cheek 
 lovingly against her mother's face, a trick she had learnt 
 as a child, watching the foals rub their jaws against 
 their dams. 
 
 " I'll throw the saddle on Mushroom, an' ride along 
 the track a bit, Mum ; p'raps I'll see Dad's waggon 
 at the bend he is late." 
 
 " Don't go too far, Maidee, your father don't like it, 
 now there are so many strangers comin' along th' trail 
 to th' gold rush." 
 
 " I'll take old Mack ; he can run faster'n a horse can 
 gallop, an' no man would touch my bridle rein whilst 
 Mack's about.' 1 
 
 "Take Binkie too, child." The woman indicated 
 the- brindle bull-dog as she spoke. 
 
 N'; Binkie's a terror, but she can't keep up with
 
 A BONNY MAID 5 
 
 a horse; her old bow-legs ain't made f'r runnin', 
 Mum." 
 
 " Well, take White Wolf ; she can run an' fight too."" 
 "All right. You hold Buck, or hell run his little 
 heart out ; he'd just follow me till he dropped dead." 
 
 Putting the Irish terrier into her mother's arms, 
 Maida Lamarde went round the house with the quick, 
 eager movements of perfect physical health. A brown 
 filly standing in a stockyard, whinnied at sight of the 
 girl. Speedily she adjusted bridle and saddle, and 
 swung herself up with all the confidence of a life-time of 
 practice. The filly was a thoroughbred, bought from 
 one of the big horse and cattle stations where the 
 raising of blood stock was a speciality, a station that 
 had turned out the winner of more than one of 
 Australia's classic races. Mushroom was well enough 
 bred to have won the Melbourne Cup, and was her 
 father's gift to her on her birthday, the filly represent- 
 ing his one great extravagance in a hard and thrifty 
 life. He had saved for years to purchase this gift, and 
 had denied himself many a little pleasure that the 
 bushman loves. He had said to his wife : " The best 
 ain't too good for our Maidee, and the best she shall 
 have," and he kept his word, for no queen could have 
 ridden a horse of purer blood, for Mushroom, in spite of 
 her plebeian name, was every inch a lady. She might 
 easily have been better groomed, for in the Australian 
 bush folks set more store on fitness than upon 
 appearances, but beneath her rather rough brown coat 
 Mushroom's splendid muscles rippled like steel springs, 
 and when she moved, she trod as daintily as a ballet 
 dancer. Maida cantered past the house, down the front
 
 6 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 yard, and out of the slip panel which her mother had 
 let down. The staghound Mack and the white bull- 
 terrier raced along with the filly, whilst the Irish terrier 
 and the bull-dog struggled with Mrs. Lamarde in a vain 
 attempt to join in the outing. 
 
 For a couple of miles the girl swung along easily, the 
 filly under her moving as if made of whalebone, never 
 a hoof-stroke jarring, no matter how rough the trail 
 grew. She came to a bend in the track, and drawing 
 rein, gazed steadily ahead. A small cloud of dust rose 
 up a long way in advance ; for a moment she seemed 
 inclined to canter on and meet the waggon she felt 
 certain was hidden by the rising dust, but remembering 
 her mother's anxiety, she swung the filly round, after 
 another long look down the track. She gave Mushroom 
 her head, and the filly, whose racing blood had been 
 roused by the two-mile canter, broke away in a swift 
 ni.ihing gallop. 
 
 " Come on, Mack come on, White Wolf ! " 
 
 The girl's clear young voice rang out challengingly, 
 and the two dogs, who knew her in all her mood-, 
 stretched themselves out and raced the brown filly at 
 the top of their speed for a 'quarter of a mile. 
 
 "Steady, old girl, or _"Mum will think there's some- 
 thing wrong. Steady ; 'easy now." 
 
 Maida slowed the^filly down to a gentle hand gallop, 
 talking to her pet as bush folk so often do who have no 
 neighbours to talk to. At the slip panel she cried : 
 
 u It's all right, Mum, Dad's waggon dust was lifting 
 just by the old dry water-hole, when I was at the bend, 
 and he seemed travelling faster than he generally does, 
 judging by the_move of the dust."
 
 A BONNY MAID 7 
 
 " All right, Maidee dear, I was silly to be anxious." 
 
 " 111 just ride around and look at our cattle, Mum, 
 and bring in the two cows ; they are sure to be near the 
 clay pan, the water holds there and the grass is sweeter." 
 
 " Take the bull-dog with you, you won't be riding 
 fast." 
 
 " No, Mum ; Binkie ain't safe ; if a steer turns and 
 looks at her, she always wants to charge and pin it 
 down by the muzzle." 
 
 She trotted her filly away in a direction opposite to 
 that she had taken when she had gone in search of her 
 father, and Mrs. Lamarde went inside the house to 
 prepare for the teamster's return. 
 
 The country was all open, undulating plain, not a 
 tree in sight in any direction ; in the far distance the 
 bare, barren Quondong hills upreared themselves, for- 
 bidding in their grim austerity, detested alike by 
 cattle-men and prospectors, for neither grass nor 
 minerals had been found there. On the plains a few 
 cattle ranged, and a few breeding mares ran free. A 
 humorous journalist who had once passed a few days 
 there on his way to a gold rush, had described the spot 
 as " half way between Mount Desolation and Hades," 
 and most folk wondered why Joe Lamarde, the back- 
 block teamster, had selected such a position as a 
 homestead for his wife and bonny daughter, and 
 Lamarde never enlightened them. He had taken up 
 his selection, and had blasted the stone from the rocky 
 hills for his dwelling, and had carted every bit of if 
 and built the house where it stood, with the help of 
 his wife, merely remarking to those who questioned 
 him, " Well, the place suits me." What he found
 
 8 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 there to suit him, beyond a spring of clear, fresh water, 
 no one could even guess. Year by year he had added to 
 his stock bought from his savings just a small bunch 
 of cattle, or a few brood mares, all of which, for the most 
 part, looked after themselves, until Maida grew big 
 enough to ride around them and look them over. The 
 greater part of his time Lamarde carted goods by team 
 from any place where a small mining rush broke out, 
 and his waggon and team were known to all who had 
 business on that long, desolate trail. The big station- 
 owners through whose " runs " the track wound its way, 
 employed Lamarde a good deal, for he was known as a 
 trustworthy man, who never drank to excess, and never 
 let his tongue run on other folks 1 business. 
 
 " A bad man to quarrel with," was the dictum of 
 those who met him round the few watering places along 
 his route, "never asks for more than his rights, aiul 
 never accepts less ; knows a good bit about mining, 
 and a lot about breeding horses and cattle, and knows 
 all there is to know about backblock teamster work ; 
 won't fight unless he has to, and won't leave off when he 
 starts, until he's got what he started to fight for ; has 
 no religion, and less politics ; only has one God, and 
 her name is Maida, and don't you whisper that name 
 above your breath, unless you want to lose it." 1 
 
 Now and again young stockmen riding afar would 
 ( all at the homestead, and having seen the divinity of 
 the place, would seek to prolong their visit, making a 
 tired horse, or a personal attack of lumbago, the ex< 
 They mostly left hurriedly, and seldom returned, 
 explaining to their cronies that Binkie, the brindle 
 bull-dog's facial expression was a poet's dream com-
 
 A BONNY MAID 9 
 
 pared to old Joe Lamarde when he caught them 
 looking at his daughter. One of the cattle men, Saul 
 Goode by name, having become enmeshed by Maida's 
 big eyes, sat best part of a week, night and day, 
 manufacturing home-made poetry, for which he claimed 
 a gift. He sent it to the lass, and she being heart- 
 whole and full of frolic, read Saul's product to her 
 father and mother one morning at the breakfast-table. 
 A week later the boss on the cattle station where Saul 
 worked, met the poet rounding up steers and opened 
 his budget of news. 
 
 " Say, Saul, the men say you can make poetry."" 
 
 Saul blushed. 
 
 " I can a few," he stammered. 
 
 " Ever made a long, long poem like Paradise Lost, 
 Saul?" 
 
 " No-o, boss." 
 
 " Well, you start on one like that, an" 1 make it in the 
 saddle ; make it about two hundred miles long, 'nd 
 don't you stop to put in no commas or things like 
 that ; an 1 Saul, if you value yV life, don't make it a 
 halting verse; old Joe Lamarde's down at the wool- 
 shed with a dirge you made for his daughter, an 1 he's 
 got his fightin' face on. Now you ride f r it ; we ain't 
 got no time f'r inquests on bush poets in th' shearin' 
 season." 
 
 " C- co-u-ld-n't I say I meant th' poem f r Binkie th 1 
 bull-dog, boss ? " 
 
 " You could, Saul, but seein' you addressed it to 
 'Maida with th' hauntin' eyes, 1 I don't think th 1 
 explanation would help you any. What did you want 
 to write that fool stuff about her ' honeycomb mouth '
 
 10 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 for ? What do you know about the taste of her mouth, 
 eh?" 
 
 " N-othing, boss," confessed Saul. 
 
 " An' her ' wasp waist.' " 
 
 Saul swore picturesquely at this thrust. 
 
 " An* her 4 bewitchin' lower leg ' ? " 
 
 " I never put that in, I said her her ankle," snarled 
 Saul. 
 
 " All th' same to everyone except a blinkin" poet ; it 
 comes to th' same thing; I"m married, an' I know. 
 Saul." 
 
 " Do th' boys on th' station know 'bout my my 
 pome, boss ? " 
 
 "They do, Saul, an' they're gettin' ready to roast 
 all of you that old Lamarde leaves unflayed." 
 
 Boss " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 *' Send my cheque on to Ballaroo, will you ? I I'm 
 goin', an' I'm goin" now." And he went. 
 
 It was some time after she had parted with her 
 mother at the slip panel that Maidu rode Mushroom 
 slowly inside the home paddock, driving a couple of 
 milch cows in front of her; she looked for her father'.- 
 waggon, expecting to see it in front of the house, but 
 instead she saw a group of saddle hacks, and pack- 
 horses, and her mother talking to a bunch of men 
 d for the trail. 
 
 " Prospectors,"" .-lie muttered ; " where on earth did 
 they spring from.-" 
 
 Hiding straight up to the group, she addres-cd her 
 mother. 
 
 " Dad not come yet, Mum - "
 
 A BONNY MAID 11 
 
 " No, Maidee, and no sign of him ; these prospectors 
 came on to the main track below the forked trail, and 
 they saw no sign of Dad's waggon." 
 
 The girl knitted her brows. 
 
 " That sounds bad to rne, Mum ; the forked trail 
 cuts in on the main track fifteen miles from here ; Dad 
 ought to have passed that a good many hours ago.'" 
 
 A big, raw-boned man, evidently the leader of the 
 party of prospectors, detached himself from the group 
 and spoke like one used to giving orders, and it was 
 noticeable that his words and voice had a pronounced 
 Scottish tang. 
 
 " Lassie, y'r minnie ha" 1 telt us she's afeared there's 
 something wrang wi' her man ; ye bide here wi' y'r 
 minnie, and dinna fash ; Ai'll ride th' trail wi' yin o' 
 these buckies o' mine, till A find oot wha's wrang wi' 
 y'r feyther." 
 
 " I'll ride with you, sir/' 
 
 "It will be nicht afore long, lassie, an' th' lone 
 trail's no place for a lass ta be on wi' a couple o' 
 chance-met strangers." 
 
 Maida Lamarde looked straight into the speaker's 
 grizzled face, and looked long. Then she said in tones 
 as crisp and curt as his own 
 
 "I know a man when I see one, sir; any girl would 
 be safe with you riding on her bridle-hand. You're 
 like Binkie ; you carry your character in your face, 
 sir." 
 
 The veteran looked at the brindle bull-dog that was 
 fawning at his feet ; then he said drily 
 
 " A had no' noticed th' resemblance masel', lassie ; 
 air ye flatterin' me, or or th' dawg ? "
 
 12 McGLUSKY THE GOLD -SEEKER 
 
 I didn't mean looks I meant character, sir; Bink 
 couldn't do a mean thing if she tried.*" 
 
 The veteran turned from Maida, and addressing Mi>. 
 Lamarde said 
 
 " Yon's a wilful maid, A'm theenkin' ; will ye no' 
 bid her bide wi' ye? We can follow th 1 trail wi'oot 
 her help." 
 
 " Fin going with or without them, Mum ; good-! 
 Dad may be lying hurt, and he'll want me." 
 
 She was away almost before the words reached them, 
 and the staghound went with her. The leader of the 
 prospectors just gave the flying figure one glance, 
 then 
 
 "Snowev. ye'll Ix; ridin' wi' me; Ginger, you an' 
 Butterfly an' th' Sergeant bide wi' tlf dame." 
 
 Without a word, the prospector called Snowey, got 
 into his saddle; he did not seem to hurry, but he was 
 indescribably quick. Ginger cast a rueful glance along 
 the trail at Maida's vanishing figure, and grumbled 
 
 "It's jou fr th' luck av life, Snowey. Why did th' 
 Auld Tinier choose you fr this job?" 
 
 " Dunno, kid, unless he thought my fatal beauty 
 might come in useful later on." 
 
 The veteran got to saddle, and lifting his soft broad- 
 brimmed hat to Mrs. Lamarde, said 
 
 "Dame, we'll be movin'. My name's McGlusky; 
 th' name may no' mean anything ta ye, but yince, 
 long ago, afore A went soldiering A was prospect in' 
 in these parts wumman, y'r dauchter's safe wi' 
 us." 
 
 M:-. Lamarde nodded her head and smiled, for, like 
 her lass, she knew a man when she saw one.
 
 A BONNY MAID 13 
 
 "That girl can ride, Old Sportsman," commented 
 Snowey after the first couple of miles had been 
 passed. 
 
 " Aye, an 1 she's on something worth riding, ma son. 
 AVe been ha'in' a keek at her mare ; dae ye notice th' 
 length o' its stride ! It's bred o' racin' stock, or A'm a 
 parrarie flower." 
 
 "Shouldn't describe you in just them floral terms, 
 McGlusky. Say, old pardner, how old are 
 you ? " 
 
 " Me, laddie ? Weel, A left off countin' when A 
 were forty, A dinn&feel an hoor older than A did then, 
 so ye may put tha' doon as ma age." His hard eyes 
 twinkled as he looked at Snowey, then he continued 
 with a sigh : " But p'raps ye've noticed signs o' ap- 
 proachin' dissolution creepin' ower ma, laddie ? Maybe 
 A'm feeble an' decrepit. A had no' noticed it masel' ; 
 eef A've been a burden ta ye young men on th' track 
 since we landed in Australia fra' Italy, A'm full o' 
 regrets f r bein' a burden, an' ye've all been good ; ye've 
 none o' ye thrown ma weakness in ma teeth." 
 
 Snowey bent over his horse's neck and chuckled. 
 
 " As a human wreck, McGlusky, you shore take some 
 beatin'. Two hours before you decided to camp last 
 night, th' Sergeant asked Ginger if you ever got tired, 
 an' Ginger said : ' Him tired ? No ; he ain't human ; 
 he's a blinkin' locomotive that's mislaid its label ; he'd 
 give th' wanderin' Jew three years' start in a trip round 
 th' world, an' beat him on his head.' ' 
 
 " For why should A get tired, buckie ? Th' grub's 
 good, th' bush air is fresh an' pure ; A've a horse ta 
 ride an' a blanket ta sleep on, an' th' good brown earth
 
 11 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 is hard an" dry, no' like yon dommed mud an" slush in 
 Flanders an" th' part o' France we fought in, an' no" 
 like ill mire in th' marshes roon' Venice." 
 
 "I'm not kickin', Old Timer,"" drawled Snowey, a 
 note of deep content in his voice, " Australia's good 
 enough Fr me. England was a dream in th' spring, 
 an it wouldn't be bad in th 1 summer if they'd take a 
 stove up an" 1 warm their sun up a bit. Italy was 
 gorgeous in spots, an 1 the old East wasn't bad, but 
 
 Australia " He sucked in his breath and let it 
 
 whistle through his nostrils. " By the Lord, McGlusky, 
 I love it, I love it. Why, if you rolled a cheese out 
 here an' put life in it, this wind an' sun an' th' savage 
 old earth would make a man of it in time. 11 
 
 For a moment McGlusky was taken aback at this 
 outburst, for in all the years he had fought and marched, 
 starved and striven alongside Snowey, he had never 
 known him to let his heartstrings loose before, but he 
 understood the native's almost fanatical love for and 
 pride in his homeland. He reached out one bony hand 
 and placed it on the young man's knee. 
 
 " Ye're richt, laddie, ye're richt ; Australia's a gran' 
 country, th' best on earth ; it's no' a nursery f r 
 weaklin's, it's too dommed hard an' harsh f r that."" 
 
 Snowey was ashamed of his sudden outburst. 
 
 " It's not a bad old show, McGlusky ; it gives hard 
 knocks, but it gives big prizes when you win." 
 
 " Th' truth's in y'r mooth, now, buckie ; some o 
 these fine days we'll get Britons oot here by th' ship- 
 load, not scum, ye ken, but good stout-heart ed stuff, 
 th' sort who did th' fechtin' in th' trenches alongside 
 us, an' we'll mak' old Australia hum. th ': "
 
 A BONNY MAID 15 
 
 Mile after mile they cantered with Maida fifty lengths 
 ahead of them. 
 
 " She's a good bit o' stuff, that girl, never tires an' 
 never hurries her horse," remarked Snowey after a long 
 silence. 
 
 " Bush bred," was the laconic response. 
 
 When at last Maida reached the spot where the trail 
 forked, she halted her mare and waited for the men to 
 come to her side. The stars were out now, and the 
 night wind was cool and refreshing. 
 
 " This is where you struck the main track to-day," 
 she said curtly. 
 
 " Ye're richt ; A ken it by th' bit boulder ower 
 yonner," was McGlusky's reply. 
 
 The girl pointed with her whip hand. 
 
 " My father's over there somewhere, and I think he's 
 hurt." 
 
 Her voice was firm, but had a deeper note than when 
 she had first spoken. 
 
 "Maybe it's only a breakdoon o' his waggon, ma 
 lass." 
 
 " No ; if it had been, he would have sent his dog 
 on home with a note tied to the collar ; he's done that 
 before." 
 
 "Has your father any enemy in particular, Miss ?" 
 questioned Snowey. 
 
 Maida told them of the man called Jess Williams. 
 
 " All ha' a word wi' Mister Williams, gin A find 
 im, if he's done anything dirty, lassie." 
 
 " Sure thing," supplemented Snowey. 
 
 They were walking their horses to breathe them. 
 
 " I don't think it's Jess's work ; he an' Dad don't
 
 16 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 like each other, but if they met, it would be a fail- 
 fight, and my Daddy would win." 1 
 
 " Got any notion conceruin" 1 th"" gent who might ha' 
 played a low-down game, Miss ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 Snowey noticed the harshness that came into the 
 girlish voice as she answered his question. 
 
 *'Got any objection to makin' a word picture o' th' 
 gent, Miss ? " 
 
 " Perhaps I'll tell you when we find Dad." 
 
 It was a good hour before they came upon the 
 teamster's last camp. The waggon stood on the track : 
 the horses were feeding in the grass some little distance 
 awav, but there was no sign of old Joe Lamarde. 
 
 Mi Glusky knelt and put his hands palm downwards 
 in the ashes of the fire. 
 
 " Stone cold/ 1 
 
 That was all he said, but something in his tones told 
 Snowey that the veteran feared the worst. 
 
 " You stay here, Miss, and hold the horses ; we don't 
 want to mess up any tracks that we can follow at 
 daylight ; me an 1 my old pardner will scout around a 
 bit on foot." 
 
 " Wait." Maida's voice was peremptory and com- 
 manding. " Wherever my Daddy is, his old waggon 
 dog will be; you couldn't separate them." She put 
 two of her fingers to her lips and whistled shrilly like 
 a man, then hollowing her hand trumpet-fashion, she 
 shouted, " Bob Bob Bob." The girl stood with one 
 hand on the big staghound's collar. Suddenly she felt 
 him quiver, and the animal started forward. * My 
 dog hears something."
 
 A BONNY MAID 17 
 
 " Dinna let him slip." As he spoke, McGlusky 
 unbuckled his belt and passed it through the stag- 
 hound's collar. " Noo, lassie, awa' wi' him ; he'll 
 tak' us ta th' thing he heard ; hark ta him, he's 
 whininV 
 
 With a man on each side of her, Maida walked 
 swiftly, pulled nearly off her feet by the big 
 dog. 
 
 Far out on the plain they came across old Joe 
 Lamarde, and crouching over his body was the waggon 
 dog, Bob. 
 
 " Tear up some o' th 1 dry shrubs an" mak' a fire ta 
 see by, Snowey." 
 
 Maida knelt by the body. A moment later they 
 heard her voice. 
 
 " Dead Oh, Dad Dad, my Daddy." 
 
 The waggon dog lifted its head feebly, and moaned. 
 McGlusky put his hand down to feel the body of the 
 teamster, and the dog made an effort to bite his wrist, 
 just cutting the flesh with its fangs. 
 
 " Ye puir faithfu 1 beastie ; A'm theenkin' y're no 1 far 
 frae spent yer ainsel'," murmured McGlusky. " Quick 
 wi' th' licht, Snowey." When the blaze came, the 
 veteran looked into the face of the teamster, then 
 knowing no help was possible there, he said : " Len' me 
 a han' wi' th' puir tyke, laddie." 
 
 " Let him die with his master ; I'd like my dog to go 
 with me, if it was my endin', McGlusky." 
 
 "Th 1 tyke's duty is no' done yet, buckie, an' duty 
 comes first, wi' man or dog." 
 
 Maida was lying by her dead father, the stern old 
 face pillowed against her bosom. She made no sound, 
 c
 
 18 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 she shed no tears, she just held the face she loved 
 against her heart, whilst the two men attended to the 
 nearly spent dog. 
 
 " All shot up,"" whispered Snowey. " Some one emptied 
 a six-shooter into this poor tyke. 11 
 
 " We'll hae a job ta save th 1 beastie, an" 1 he'll never 
 walk again ; his hin 1 quarters are paralysed, but if he 
 lives to set eyes on th' man who shot his master he'll 
 tell us, we'll read th' hate in his eyes. 11 
 
 That won't be any evidence, McGlusky." 
 
 " Show me th' man, an 1 A'll hunt f r th 1 clue. 11 
 
 "Where did the teamster get hi.sr" whispered 
 Snowey. 
 
 "Through th 1 back, laddie. 11 A word that would 
 not look well in print slipped through the young man's 
 lips. "Amen ta that, ma son.* 1 
 
 All night they sat there, taking it in turns to pour a 
 little water, mixed with brandy, down the wounded 
 dog's throat, and all night long the girl kept the head 
 of her dead father against her bosom. When the 
 dawn came, McGlusky took the staghound and circled 
 the spot where the crime had been committed, but he 
 found no trail ; the hard, sunbaked earth contained no 
 track, once or twice the staghound sniffed a bunch of 
 grass, and growled, whilst the hair on his head bristled, 
 but he failed to follow^ the scent, the wind had swept 
 the spot for too many hours for it to hold. The veteran 
 went back to Snowey. 
 
 "Yon wounded tyke is our only hope,"" he 
 growled. 
 
 Troopers and black trackers who came to the scene 
 later were of the same opinion ; they could find not a
 
 A BONNY MAID 19 
 
 scrap of evidence toconnect any one with the crime, 
 no tracks of man or horse it was one of the many bush 
 mysteries, and bade fair to remain unsolved. 
 
 McGlusky and his party had to remain for the 
 inquest, and at the urgent request of Mrs. Lamarde, 
 they camped on her selection. The widow was pros- 
 trated by the horror of her loss at first, but being a 
 sensible, practical woman, rallied her energies to battle 
 against fate, and the prospectors adum'ed her for her 
 courage, but Maida puzzled them all. 
 
 Sitting by their camp one evening, Ginger voiced his 
 opinion of the lass. 
 
 " Sorr," he said in his soft Irish brogue, " Oi'm not 
 knowin' what ter make av this girl Maida Lamarde at 
 all, at all, faith, she's beyant me." 
 
 McGlusky peered at his youthful friend from under 
 bent brows. 
 
 " Y're no' th' only yin." 
 
 " Oi've seen English girls, an 1 Italians, an 1 Egyptians, 
 but she ain't like any av them ; she looked bad enough 
 when she rode home wid you, an' brung th' corpse av 
 her daddy, but since then she's been goin' about her 
 work as if havin' a father murdered was an everyday 
 sort av a job." 
 
 Butterfly Brown, a big, loose-limbed Yankee, who 
 was one of the party, supported Ginger's view of the 
 maid. 
 
 "Guess you could tickle an oyster an 1 get more 
 excitement out o' th' beast ; she ain't like any Yankee 
 girl I've ever swapped views with smiles when you 
 speak to her, an' gives you th' time o 1 day easy an' calm 
 like, an' looks after th' stock as if th' old man had
 
 20 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 retired on a pension an' left the place to her as a 
 wt-ddin* present. I calculate th* man who ever find.- 
 her heart will have ter use a hatpin." 
 
 "New kind of female to me," put in the prospector 
 the others called "The Sergeant," a splendidly made 
 man of five-and-twenty, with Englishman printed all 
 over him. " She's so cool," he added, " she'd make an 
 Iceland landscape shiver. Chatted with me this morning 
 about her future plans, and didn't show enough emotion 
 to disturb a babe." 
 
 "Emotion her," scoffed Ginger, "she ain't got tears 
 enough in her outfit ter make a postage stamp stick. 
 Say, Snowey, is she a fair sample av y'r Australian 
 girls ? " 
 
 " Well," murmured Snowey, " I haven't made up my 
 mind about her yet. I'd want tor know Maida Lamarde 
 better'n I do now before I got into th' judgment seat 
 an 1 said ' guilty ' ter your charge. If she's heartless, 
 she's damn heartless, that's all, an' if she ain't, she's a 
 good bit of stuff', an' th' sort o' pal I'd like to have in 
 time o' trouble." 
 
 "A pal?" Ginger's lip curled. "If all y'r auld 
 Australian girls are like that wan, it's me f r a wife 
 over th' water." 
 
 " An' a dom lucky job f 'r th* girls over here, ye red- 
 headed exhibeetion o' congenital eediocy ; ye ma theenk 
 ye air fit ta wear th 1 mantle o' Solomon, buckie A'm 
 no' sayin' y're not, for A'd no' hurtit y'r feelin's f r th' 
 world, but A'm theenkin' th' hide o' an ass wud niak" \<- 
 a mair fittin' garment an' th' same tayersel', Butterfly, 
 y're ugly enough tn ken better." 
 
 "Thanks, McGlusky," chuckled Butterfly
 
 A BONNY MAID 21 
 
 " yon shore don't cloud your meanin 1 with any unneces- 
 sary frills." 
 
 " Oi'm glad Oi'm on friendly terms wid you, sorr," 
 cooed Ginger, " yez might be sayin' somethin' unkind if 
 Oi wasn't."
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 MAIDA TELLS MCGH'SKY A SECRET 
 
 THKY buried the teamster on his own selection, for 
 there was no cemetery within driving distance, and it 
 was McGlusky who made the coffin and railed in the 
 grave. At midnight Snowey, who had risen from his 
 blankets to give water to the wounded dog, glanced in 
 the direction of the burial place, and fancying he saw 
 something move near the teamster's resting-place, he 
 picked up his revolver and moved very quietly in that 
 direction. 
 
 " I've heard that murderers haunt the scenes of their 
 crimes," he muttered, " if this one is doin" any hauntin', 
 he's goin' ter stay here." 
 
 Soft of foot as a wild dog, he approached the grave 
 unheard, and slipped through the railing. He could 
 just make out a figure crouching over the dead man's 
 ivsting-place in the dim starlight. 
 
 " Stand an' throw y'r hands up." 
 
 As he spoke, Snowey 's finger tightened on the trigger 
 of his gun, and it clicked as it cocked. 
 
 Maida Lamarde rose up and lifted her hands. 
 
 " Who are you ? " 
 
 Her voice was wonderfully steady. 
 
 " Guess I'm a fool prospector, Miss. I'm sorry. I 
 saw sonu'thiii' move, an' I came along that's all." 
 
 The girl came very close and looked into his face. 
 22
 
 MAIDA TELLS McGLUSKY A SECRET 23 
 
 " You're Snowey ? " 
 
 " Yes, Miss. 11 
 
 " I like you," the lass said simply, " you're solid an' 
 you're sure." 
 
 " I'm right enough in spots, Miss." 
 
 "Thank you for coming, Snowey. I came here to 
 talk to Dad ; we often sat here an' talked in the night - 
 timeiwhen he came back from his trips, an' an' I missed 
 him." There was just one slight catch in her voice, no 
 more ; no tears, no sobs, no tremor in the strong hand 
 she placed on the young adventurer's shoulder. A 
 moment later she asked in the same even voice : " Do 
 you think Bob will live ? " 
 
 " Yes, th' dog will live, Miss, but he's shot through 
 the loins ; th' hind part of his body will be useless ; 
 he'll never move unless he drags himself along by his 
 forepaws." 
 
 " I know but his brain, his eyes, his memory will be 
 clear, eh ? " 
 
 " Sure thing." 
 
 " Snowey " 
 
 "Yes, Miss." 
 
 "The man who shot my father will call here some 
 day." 
 
 "If he does, the dog will know him." 
 
 " Yes, an' I wish you and your party were going to 
 prospect round here ; I'd like you or the big man 
 McGlusky round the day the dog recognises the man 
 who killed him." She pointed to the grave as she 
 spoke. 
 
 " Any of our party would do as well, Miss, they're 
 all solid."
 
 24 M GLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 "Been together long? " she asked carek-s>lv. 
 
 " Gallipoli France Italy the whole show." 
 
 " You mean you were all through the war 
 together ? " 
 
 " Did a bit," was the laconic response. 
 
 *' Surely that red-haired boy you call Ginger never 
 went through all that ?" 
 
 " Yes, Miss ; nothin* better in our bunch than Ginger 
 when you know him." 
 
 "He looks so young, and his eyes are like a gir 
 my Mum said the first time she saw him she wanted to 
 mother him." 
 
 "All women want to coddle Ginger; I guess 
 it's those blinkin' violet eyes and long lashes that 
 do it." 
 
 " Has he a mother ? " 
 
 " He's had about three hundred since I've known th' 
 scut ; all th 1 middle-aged one want to adopt him, an' he 
 adopts all th 1 young ones ; he's a woman magnet ; he's 
 only got to look at the landlady of a boarding-house to 
 be invited in to a free lunch." 
 
 " I don't think he appeals to me." 
 
 " Wait till you hear him sing, and when he's singin' 
 you watch McGlusky's face, then you'll know what the 
 love of a man for a man can be, Miss." 
 
 " Does he return McGlusky's love ? " 
 
 Snowey smiled. " You say something against th' 
 Old Timer in Ginger's hearing, Miss, something real 
 bad, an' you'll wonder you ever thought Ginger young 
 an' innocent. You'll see a red-headed devil with flamin' 
 . and hear language that'll knock spots off a sunset 
 f r local colour."
 
 MAIDA TELLS McGLUSKY A SECRET 25 
 
 Snowey was luring the girl away from the spot where 
 her father lay, while he talked, and now having reached 
 the house, he abruptly bade her good -night and returned 
 to his blankets. 
 
 Soon after breakfast next morning McGlusky said to 
 his party 
 
 " Ma lads, A'm theenkin 1 we canna dae any good f r 
 th' twa wummin by remainin' here ; we'd best be 
 gettin' a move on ; there's some likely lookin' country 
 A ken o' aboot ninety miles further inland. A ken a 
 mon who found gold prospects there afore A went tae 
 th' wars." 
 
 " Faith, sorr, if he found gold as long ago as that, 
 he's worked it all out by now." 
 
 " Ginger," replied McGlusky, " y'r bump o' weesdom 
 is too much on one side o' y'r head ta be any use tae ye ; 
 ma old mate didna work wha' he found." 
 
 " Why th' devil didn't he then, sorr, if ut was any 
 good?" 
 
 "Because he died o' typhoid fever before he had a 
 chance, but he left a letter tellin' me aboot it." 
 
 " I wish this was prospecting country," said the 
 Sergeant, " I'd like to hang round a bit, an 1 see if we 
 could drop on the tracks of the cur who rubbed that old 
 teamster out." 
 
 " We've got tae get a livin', ma laddie, an 1 if there 
 was a chance o' gettin' it here, A'd no 1 quit, but de'il a 
 chance dae A see of findin' gold or siller in these 
 parts/' 
 
 "The teamster didn't select this God-forsaken spot 
 as a homestead fr nothing," replied the Sergeant 
 stubbornly.
 
 26 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 " He selected it because it was a sort o' half-way place 
 between everywhere ; he could get loadin' f r his team 
 in inaist any direction, an' put in a spell at home 
 coinin' and goin','' McGlusky explained. 
 
 The Sergeant shook his head. 
 
 "I'm new to Australia,'' said he, "and you're an old 
 hand, but I don't believe that was the teamster's 
 reasons." 
 
 " Ye may be richt, ye may be wrong, man, but if he 
 had a reason he's taken it wi' him." 
 
 " Bet he hasn't, sorr that girl knous." 
 
 " Ye dinna like th' lassie, Ginger .-" 
 
 " Oi do not, sorr ; she's too cold-blooded f r me ; but 
 she knows why her father came here, an' if you found 
 out who is her lover Oi'll bet me boots you'd be 
 within shootin' distance av th' man that killed her 
 father." 
 
 McGlusky moved impatiently. 
 
 " Get th' outfit ready f r an early start, Snowey ; A 11 
 gang an' ha'e a crack wi' th' widow." He strode to the 
 house and found Maida Lamarde alone. " A've come 
 tae tell ye an' y'r minnie we're takin' th' road again, 
 lass ; we canna help ye here." 
 
 " Mother's in th' milking-shed I'm sorry you're 
 going." 
 
 " Sae are we all." 
 
 Mum an' I are going to stay on here ; we'll hire a 
 man to drive the team, an* we'll run this selection; it 
 don't cost much to keep two women in a place like 
 
 this." 
 
 " Could ye no' dae better in one o' th new 
 towns!) ij
 
 MAIDA TELLS McGLUSKY A SECRET 27 
 
 " I'm not thinkin 1 of that, I'm thinkin 1 of him." 
 She pointed in the direction of the spot where her 
 father lay. 
 
 " A'm theenkin 1 y're a good hater, lassie." 
 
 At McGlusky's words, the girl's iron control left her : 
 she clenched her hands, her figure stiffened, her eyes 
 blazed with sudden fury, all the colour left her face, 
 and her clenched teeth gleamed through her slightly 
 parted lips. 
 
 " Hate," she whispered, " hate ? If you knew what 
 
 my father was to me Mother's a good woman and 
 
 she loved us both, but Dad " she made a wide gesture 
 with her hands " Dad was my God, and and I killed 
 the thing I loved." 
 
 McGlusky recoiled from her. 
 
 " Ye're distraught, ma poor maid." 
 
 " I wish I were ; madness would be a relief, a blessing ; 
 Td thank God for madness at this moment, but I shall 
 never go mad ; I shall never be able to forget, never 
 never, and on earth or in heaven there was nothing I 
 loved like him." 
 
 The back door opened, and Mrs. Lamarde entered 
 with a milk-pail in her hand. McGlusky, shaken by the 
 horror of what he had heard, more than he had ever 
 been shaken by the desperate hazard of any battle-field, 
 was glad of the interruption ; he did not want to hear 
 more ; that bonny maid, so fresh and fair, with her 
 dread tragedy hanging round and over her, frightened 
 him. He made an incoherent excuse for the departure 
 of his party to the widow, and went away. 
 
 " A'm ridin 1 on ahead ; ye bring th 1 outfit an' dinna 
 linger," was his curt command to Snowey. Then saddling
 
 28 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 his hack with haste, lie rode off, and as he rode he ca-t 
 a glance at the teamster's grave and shuddered. 
 
 There were tears in the widow's eyes as she back _ 
 bye to those new friends of hers who had come into 
 her life and were apparently going out of it as ships 
 that pass each other at sea, but there were no tears from 
 Maida; she had recovered from the emotion that had 
 shaken her in McGlusky's presence. She looked at 
 Ginger as if she could read every thought behind his 
 I, and she smiled as she noticed that he just touched 
 her hand and dropped it when saying good-bye, though 
 he heartily returned her mother's embrace when the 
 older woman kissed his freckled cheek and huskily 
 commended him to the care of all good angels. She 
 was cool and self-contained towards Butterfly Brown, 
 but cordial to the good-looking English Sergeant. It 
 was Snowey who had the last word with her. He had 
 slipped away to give the wounded waggon dog a parting 
 drink and pat on the head, for this man who had dealt 
 out death ruthlessly to Turks, Germans and Austrians, 
 was very tender with dogs or horses in trouble. As 
 Snowey was rising from the animal's side, Maida came 
 and stood near, and the dog lifted its eyes to her face in 
 a strange, steady, questioning way, but showed no sign 
 of pleasure. Snowey watched the meeting of the two 
 pairs of eyes, and was fascinated by what he saw. 
 Speaking of it later to McGlusky, he said : " By my 
 soul, it made me shiver, Old Timer ; the dog looked as 
 a judge might look at a criminal in th" 1 dock, and his 
 steady unwinking gaze seemed to say * Guilty, or not 
 guilty/ an' her face, Old Sportsman, well, it looked 
 like hell."
 
 MAIDA TELLS McGLUSKY A SECRET 29 
 
 " Did she say anything, Snowey ? " 
 
 " Yes, McGlusky, she said : ' Old Bob never more 
 than half liked me, he was all for Dad, an' he was 
 always a bit jealous of me, I think. 1 " 
 
 About an hour before sundown McGlusky rode off 
 the track, taking to the open land on his right. 
 
 " Goin' ta look f r a camp ? " queried Ginger. 
 
 " A'm goin' ta look f r watter." 
 
 "Tell me, sorr, how th' divil ye look fr ut, when 
 there's no rivers an' no wells, an' no landmarks ? Oi'm 
 bate entirely." 
 
 " Ye'll learn in time, if ye keep y'r eyes open an' y'r 
 mouth shut, ma son. 11 
 
 " How will I learn if Oi keep meblinkin' mouth shut, 
 sorr ? Oi can't ask f r information wid me ears, can 
 Oi?" 
 
 " Mak' use o' y'r eyes in th' bush. Look yonner." 
 
 Ginger followed the pointing finger. 
 
 "Kangaroos," he said; then after a pause, "Emus, 
 too." 
 
 "Yes, mannie, an 1 where ye see th' wild beasties 
 feedin' in summer, ye can look f r watter ; ye'll no' 
 always find it, but maistly ye will." 
 
 The pair jogged along over the plain, whilst the rest 
 of the outfit kept to the track, and the veteran bushman 
 and adventurer expounded the lore of the wilderness for 
 his young comrade's benefit, teaching him many things 
 in a terse phrase or two that might have cost him long 
 months of harsh experience to find out, had he been 
 prospecting alone, and Ginger, ex-waif of a British 
 seaport slum, and ex-soldier of the great war, was an 
 apt scholar, for his thirst for knowledge was without
 
 80 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 limits. He put so many questions and wanted to have 
 i->on for so many things, that at times he frayed the 
 pioneer's temper to a frazzle, especially when Ginger 
 mixed his crude ideas on theology with mundane matter-, 
 as he often did, for there was nothing in the heavens 
 above or the earth beneath that Ginger did not want 
 exact information on. Once he remarked 
 
 " Sorr, ye say th' wisdom o' th' Creator is not ter be 
 questioned."" 
 
 " A say it, an 1 A mean it." 
 
 An' ye say th" Creator's never wrong, sorr .- " 
 
 McGlusky screwed himself partly round in his saddle, 
 and looked at his interrogator, and Ginger pulled his 
 horse a yard or so further away from his mentor, 
 knowing that McGlusky's anger could be sudden and 
 sharp. 
 
 " Weel, buckle, get on wi' y'r disqueeseetion, but 
 mix it wi' reverence, or All mix ma answer w' a swing 
 o' ma hand/' 
 
 "Sorr, why did th' Creator make all these miles av 
 salt-bush an" cover the earth with it ? We've ridden 
 over twenty miles av it to-day." 
 
 " Ta feed th' beasties on, ye daft loon." 
 
 "Is that so, sorr? Thin why will sheep eat salt-bush 
 an" grow fat on ut, an' why will a horse refuse ut, an 1 
 starve ? " 
 
 " A"m no" 1 a horse, an' A canna tell." 
 
 "Sorr, why didn't th' Creator mix th' salt-bush 
 properly so as all animal- would ate ut .- " 
 
 " A'm no' knowin', unless lie wanted ta gie a fool 
 somethin' ta a>k questions aboot. Ginger, A -aid th' 
 Creator's plans were purfect, but when A listen ta ye
 
 MAIDA TELLS McGLUSKY A SECRET 31 
 
 bleatin' mile after mile, A'm theenkin' there air some 
 things in life tha' never ocht ta ha' been born, or else 
 drowned at birth." 
 
 After that they rode in silence for a bit, until 
 McGlusky spied a clay-pan containing water ; it was 
 just a shallow depression in the surface of the plain, 
 about a dozen yards in circumference, and the water 
 was crystal clear. 
 
 " Is ut a spring, sorr ? " 
 
 "No, ma son, it's just rainwater." 
 
 " How did it remain here while all the rest that fell 
 disappeared, sorr ? " 
 
 " Most o' th' soi 1 is porous, an 1 water sinks in as fast 
 as it falls, but yon is a patch o' clay, an" 1 clay holds 
 maist as well as cement after it's been baked by the 
 sun ; yell find yin here an' there on maist big plains, 
 an' th' will hold until th' beasties drink it, or th' heat 
 causes it tae evaporate ; it'll no' sink in it's th' weesdom 
 o' th' Creator, laddie, it saves some o' th' wild game fra 
 perishinV 
 
 " Sorr " 
 
 " Weel, mannie ? " 
 
 " Why didn't th' Creator make more av thirn clay- 
 pans, an' save th' lot ? " 
 
 " Ride, ye blastie, an' bring up the outfit," roared Mc- 
 Glusky, and Ginger rode, and as he went he chuckled, 
 and his eyes were still dancing when he halted the 
 outfit on the track. 
 
 "Been pullin' the Old Timer's leg some more?" 
 queried Snowey. " You get a lot o' fun out o' that, 
 kid, but he made a decent soldier out of a guttersnipe, 
 an' he'lj make a good bushman out o* you in time."
 
 82 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 Ginger grinned. 
 
 " Shore thing he will,* 1 added the ex-Anzac Sharp- 
 shooter, " he's got a gift for turning rubbish he finds 
 on the scrap-heap into soim-thin* u>eful." 
 
 " Pity you didn' stop back at th 1 teamster's selection 
 an 1 waste y'r gift fr payin 1 compliments on th' girl, 
 Snowey." 
 
 " Cut th 1 girl out, kid." 
 
 " Brought a bruised an' bleedin' heart away wid you, 
 eh ?" jibed Ginger. 
 
 Snowey made no verbal reply; he just lifted his 
 strange slaty grey eyes and let them rest on the Irish 
 lad's face, and Ginger who knew the man he had so 
 often fought beside, promptly found something that 
 badly needed his attention amongst the pack-hoi 
 
 They camped that night by the clay-pan, for the 
 prospector must camp where the night finds him, and 
 chance his luck. 
 
 Just before dawn Snowey awoke the Sergeant. 
 
 " What's up, lad ? " 
 
 The Englishman was on one elbow as he put the 
 query. 
 
 " Kangaroos about here, an' I promised you some 
 good shootin' ; we'll have an hour, so look 
 slippy." 
 
 The Sergeant tucked his rifle under his arm, and he 
 and the greatest of the Anzac Sharpshooters moved 
 out of camp silently, Snowey leading a hound in a 
 leash. Soon a soft white light appeared in the east, 
 and it spread like a curtain of gauze unrolling itself, 
 till the bush was bathed in pearl grey .shimmering 
 glory.
 
 MAIDA TELLS McGLUSKY A SECRET 33 
 
 " The sun won't be long followin 1 that, pal, so we'd 
 best make the most of our time the Old Timer hates 
 a late start." 
 
 A bunch of kangaroos were feeding a few hundred 
 yards away. 
 
 " You asked me to teach you how I learned to shoot, 
 pal, well, if I ever learnt, this is how it happened. Til 
 start the hound after that bunch of kangaroos, an 1 
 when they break an" bolt, you pick your mark an 1 hit it 
 on th 1 hop." 
 
 The ex-English soldier looked his incredulity. 
 
 " Pullin' my leg, eh, Snowey ? " 
 
 "Think so? Why?" 
 
 " A kid could drop one of those big fellows at this 
 distance, Snowey." 
 
 " Yes, while they're sittin', but you drop all you can 
 when they begin to jump." 
 
 He slipped the hound as he spoke, and the nearly 
 pure greyhound sped away at the top of its speed. 
 A moment later the bunch of kangaroos shot away, 
 splitting in all directions, each beast leaping with the 
 peculiar up-and-down bound that makes it the hardest 
 thing on earth for a rifleman to aim at. 
 
 The Sergeant picked his intended prey and fired. 
 
 " Missed." 
 
 There was a half-smile on Snowey's mouth as he 
 spoke. Again and again the Sergeant fired until his 
 magazine was empty, and he had hit nothing. Snowey 
 snatched the rifle, jammed home a cartridge, and was 
 about to fire, when a rifle just behind them cracked, 
 and a kangaroo far out on the plain leapt high and 
 fell flat. The pair of sportsmen turned and saw
 
 84 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 McGlusky, his smoking rifle in his hand, a pipe in his 
 teeth, a gleam of laughter in his eyes, and his old felt 
 hat cocked up in front. 
 
 " Beat ye, Snowey," he called, " beat ye f r 
 yince." 
 
 There was a fat chuckle behind the old pioneer's 
 tones, and he looked like a boy out on a frolic. 
 
 " You shore got my bird, Mac." Then Snowey let 
 his eyes range afar. " Beat me for those two, th' red 
 buck an' the blue doe movin' away by th' miamia 
 clump.'" 
 
 McGlusky lifted his rifle quickly, but Snowey had 
 sighted and fired before the veteran could touch his 
 trigger. The blue doe fell headlong. McGlusky fired 
 and missed, and again Snowey made his rifle speak and 
 the big, red old man kangaroo pitched face forward. 
 
 " Y're no' canny," grumbled McGlusky. " Ye dinna 
 shoot by sight, ye shoot by instinct." 
 
 " Had ter get my livin' at it f r years before th 1 war, 
 an' kangaroo scalps scarce pay fr cartridges," was 
 Snowey's only comment. 
 
 " I thought it was easy ; they look near as big as a 
 man," said the Sergeant. 
 
 "So does every one else till they try," smiled 
 McGlusky. Then the two who had been bred to the 
 bush explained to the Englishman the art of kangaroo 
 hooting. "A'm tellin' ye nae lee when A say it's 
 harder tae hit a fly in* doe on th' move than ta hit a 
 pigeon on th' wing in a gale o' wind A've tried 
 both." 
 
 "Ye see," drawled Snowey, "a kangaroo travels on 
 two legs ; when you fire you've got to allow f r th'
 
 MAIDA TELLS McGLUSKY A SECRET 35 
 
 leap upwards an' th' drop downwards as well as f r th* 
 pace it's travellin* away from you, an 1 no two leaps of a 
 kangaroo covers the same distance, they lengthen their 
 leap or shorten it accordin' to th 1 balance of their 
 bodies at the moment, or accordin' to th 1 nature o' 
 th' ground they're travellin' over ; downhill an' hard 
 pressed an old man kangaroo will cover forty feet in a 
 spring ; an' beside this, the colour o' th' brutes is 
 always th' same as th' bushes they get their livin' 
 amongst it's like shootin' at a ghost with no kind of 
 a background to give you a horizon. When you're 
 shootin' at four-footed things, they spring a level 
 height an' an equal distance ; by the time you're a 
 dead kangaroo shot, you won't miss much that runs or 
 flies or crawls." 
 
 " That's th' law an' th' gospels o' shootin', Sergeant," 
 put in McGlusky. " Dinna be downhearted because ye 
 missed th' morn; A wastit about a waggon load o' 
 good cartridges afore A cud mak' sure o' ma supper 
 wi' ma rifle ; maybe yell be th' same, it's no' many 
 Australians ha' th' gift o' 't like Snowey. A'm 
 theenkin' he cud shoot wi' his feedin'-bottle before his 
 minnie let him walk alone, but there's no' many like 
 that." 
 
 Snowey had sauntered off to camp, and he and 
 Butterfly Brown rode out on the plains and cut the 
 long tails out of the fallen brutes. 
 
 "To-night," remarked McGlusky, "A'll show ye 
 hoo tae mak' soup tha 1 will stick tae y'r ribs, an' mak' 
 ye think ye cud tak' a fall oot o' Samson.'' 
 
 " Sorr,"' chirruped Ginger. 
 
 "Weel, laddie?'?
 
 38 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 ""Why does a kangaroo have most of its strength in 
 the tail av ut?"' But that question McGlusky answered 
 with the toe of his riding-boot. 
 
 For a few days the little party jogged on without 
 incident of any importance ; then when camping they 
 were joined by two men who were riding camels. 
 There was not much water in the clay-pan by which 
 they had off-saddled, just about enough for them and 
 their horses for the night, and a little over for the 
 horses in the morning, and sufficient to fill their canvas 
 bags with the needful supply for the following day. 
 McGlusky explained the situation to the two camel- 
 men, adding 
 
 "A' in no" a hog, an 1 A ken th' law o' th' bu.-h. 
 Y're welcome tae fill y'r watter-bags fr y'r ain use, but 
 ye canna ha'e watter f r y'r camels, they'd mop up th' 
 lot, an' what they didna drink they'd foul." 
 
 The camel-men were rough-looking customers, and 
 carried themselves like persons who were in the habit 
 of having things very much their own way. 
 
 "Did you put this water here, Scotty?" demanded 
 one. 
 
 McGlusky lifted his eyebrows in mild surprise. 
 
 "A dinna remember daein' it." 
 
 " Didn't happen ter scoop out this clay-pan so as it 'd 
 catch an' hold th' rain, did you ?" 
 
 "Not unlos A did it in ma sleep." 
 
 " \Vell, don't try to run th' rule over us ; we're not 
 greenhorns ; the water is as much ours as your-.' 
 
 "Th' unwritten law o' th' bush must ha' been 
 altered since I went on ma travels," answered Mc(ilusky 
 meekly.
 
 MAIDA TELLS McGLUSKY A SECRET 37 
 
 "There's no law in the bush written or unwritten, 
 an 1 we don't stand for no bush lawyers either." 
 
 " Hec, mon, y're goin 1 agin natur", th' birds o 1 th 1 air 
 an 1 th 1 wild beasties hsC laws ; air ye lower than them ? " 
 
 The newcomers laughed, and began to unsaddle 
 their camels. Ginger was fondling a pick-handle. 
 
 " Why does th 1 Auld Timer stand f'r their cheek ? " 
 he snarled. 
 
 " Oh, shade yourself under a bush, an 1 leave th 1 old 
 sport alone," admonished Snowey. 
 
 Butterfly, sprawling at his ease amid the salt-bush, 
 emphatically seconded Snowey. 
 
 " I ain't good at arithmetic, Ginger, but I opine it's 
 about a million bull-ant bites to a mosquito blister th' 
 old cock-bird can ruffle along without you markin 1 out 
 his line o* route. Sew y'r capacious mouth up." 
 
 The Sergeant said nothing; he was waiting, and 
 watching to learn the ways of the bush. 
 
 McGlusky had resumed his task of stitching a break 
 in some of the pack -harness, on which he had been 
 employed when the newcomers arrived. A more 
 peaceful-looking elderly prospector it would have been 
 hard to find. Snowey apparently took no interest 
 in the proceedings at all. Ginger was the only 
 resentful-looking person in the vicinity. 
 
 Having stripped their camels, the two strangers led 
 them by their nose lines towards the water. McGlusky 
 rose and sauntered after them, cutting a pipe of 
 tobacco from a plug as he walked. At the edge of the 
 clay-pan, before the animals could dip their muzzles 
 into the water, the veteran with a sweep of his arm, cut 
 first one nose line, then the other, and set both beasts
 
 38 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 free, then with a resounding thump of his fist on each 
 carcase, he started the camels off over the plain. If 
 the two strangers had ever been more surprised in their 
 lives, their careers could not have been uneventful. 
 One of the two rapidly undid his leather belt, and 
 grasped it with the buckle end swinging. 
 
 " Ye've been in th' army, buckle." McGlusky's voice 
 was almost a coo as he made this remark. Without 
 waiting for an answer, he continued : " A ken it by th' 
 way ye han'le y'r belt ; it's no" a bad weapon, a belt wi' 
 a buckle on th' end o' it, A've used it maser." 
 
 The stranger swung his belt and sprang forward. 
 Instantly McGlusky shot his long left leg outward and 
 upward, and the toe of his boot caught the rushing 
 man in the solar plexus. He dropped both hands and 
 sat down violently. 
 
 "Maybe," remarked Mac judicially, " ye've never 
 heard o' savate. A learnt it o' th' French soldiers. It's 
 boxin' wi 1 y'r boots," he explained to the fallen man's 
 comrade, " AVe seen Frenchmen who cud kick a fly off 
 a man's nose an 1 no' bring blood. A'm no" 1 sic an 
 expert as that, but gin ye dinna buckle on y'r belt, A'll 
 dae ma best ta shift some o' y'r face." 
 
 " What d id you cut our camels loose for ? " 
 
 " Dae ye no' ken ? Weel, weel, y're slow on th"* 
 uptake. A let'em loose ta fin' watter f 'r themsel's. A 
 u-ed ta travel wi' camels masel', an' A ken weel they can 
 smell watter f 'r miles ; there's sure ta be anither clay- 
 pan somewhere wi'in five miles or so, an' they'll fin' it." 
 
 " We may have to tramp all night before we catch 
 them, they're not hobbled." 
 
 "A'm theenkin' that's no' unlikely, an' a long tramp
 
 gies a mon a gran 1 chance fr reflection; maybe ye'll 
 remember next time tha 1 th' law o 1 th 1 bush never 
 changes. Ye mistook us f r safties, an 1 , buckles, there 
 is no 1 yin o' ma party tha' cud na mak' a meal off 
 either o 1 ye. AVe seen y'r sort too often not ta ken y'r 
 weight ; yVe no' bad men y're just a pair o 1 four 
 flushers, an' yeVe gotten a lesson." 
 
 "If I had my gun v blustered one, but he 
 
 stopped short as he met the veteran's gaze. 
 
 " That gent askin' fr his gun ? " drawled Snowey, 
 who had sauntered across. 
 
 " He said somethin 1 o' th' kind, Snowey." 
 
 " 111 get it f'r him, McGlusky. 1 ' 
 
 "Bring mine wi' it, laddie." 
 
 " Is that Snowey of the old Anzacs, Snowey o 1 
 Gallipoli ? " gasped the man who had expressed a 
 longing for his gun. 
 
 " It is, an 1 yon red -headed buckie is his pal Ginger." 
 
 " And you're McGlusky ? " 
 
 " A am McGlusky the peacemaker. 11 
 
 " Come on, Darby, or or we'll never find our 
 camels." 
 
 " Dinna hurry," murmured McGlusky, " they may be 
 miles away. 1 ' 
 
 "They are, an 1 so'll we be in ten minutes, unless 
 there^ something wrong with our legs. Come on, 
 Darby," and the pair began to devour space in a 
 manner which set Butterfly chuckling. 
 
 " What do yez call thim sort, sorr ? " demanded 
 Ginger. 
 
 "You'll meet things like that wherever diggers an 1 
 prospectors gather, ma son ; their sort don't work, they
 
 40 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 move from one minin' rush to another an' 'jump" 
 claims. Thev mostly have some dirty lawyer buckie 
 wi' a bit o' money behind 'em, an' he fights the cases in 
 th' courts f ' r them. \Vhere ye see two o' them, ye can 
 bet there's a gang, an' when they 'jump 1 a good claim 
 they have plenty o' witnesses f'r th' court business 
 ready to perjure themsel's ta th' hilt." 
 
 " Do they often win their cases ? " asked the 
 Sergeant. 
 
 " When it gets ta court business, they often do, 
 buckie ; very often a greenhorn will divide a good 
 claim wi' them rather than face th' trouble an' expense 
 o' th' courts, because th' jumpers' lawyer always tries ta 
 get th' case sent on ta th' supreme court in one o' th' 
 big cities." 
 
 - \Vhy, sorr?" 
 
 " Because tha' kind o' lawyer always works wi' some 
 blackguard firm o' legal robbers in a city, an' they can 
 break a prospector wi' expenses." 
 
 " Sorr, Oi thought yez said th' bush life was clean." 
 
 " So it is, Ginger, but all who come ta th' bush ain't." 
 
 Ginger scratched his head and ruminated for a bit, 
 then : " Sorr," said he, " is that a parable, or or 
 somethin' ter clean boots wid ? Oi can't get th' grip 
 
 .IV lit."" 
 
 The English Sergeant also seemed puzzled. 
 
 " Tell me, McClusky, what's the use of hunting for a 
 good gold claim if the jumpers can get in on you like 
 that?" 
 
 " A didn't say they cud get in on ma." 
 
 "What do you do, then, if they jump a claim of 
 yours ? "
 
 MAIDA TELLS McGLUSKY A SECRET 41 
 
 The big man pulled meditatively at his pipe. Then : 
 " Ask Snowey," was all he said. 
 
 The Sergeant did so, and Snowey merely pointed to 
 a pick-handle with the toe of his boot, and yawned 
 behind his hand. 
 
 " Beat 'em up ? " queried the Sergeant. 
 
 " That's about it," was Snowey's laconic explanation. 
 
 " Glory be ! " exulted Ginger. " Oi can see some 
 hivenly times loomin' in th' distance."'' 
 
 " A'm goin' ta turn in noo," commented McGlusky, 
 " but before A dae, A'll gie ye a wee bittie o' advice, 
 since y're new ta th' prospectin' game. Never gang ta 
 law wi' a jumper, never argue th' point wi' him when 
 he or his gang come near y'r pegs ; th 1 moment ye 
 admit th 1 jumper's right ta argue, ye gie him a peg ta 
 hang a case on, an' that lets in th 1 lawyer an" 1 lets out 
 your claim. Tak' a pick-handle, an" dinna threaten 
 use it." 
 
 " Won't jumpers fight, sorr ? " 
 
 "Not often, ma mannie. Ye see, ye've th' law on 
 y'r side ; ye air fechtin' ta defend y'r property, an' 
 that's lawfu' th 1 world over ; they air fechtin' ta steal, 
 an' if they kill it's murder, an' they'll no 1 often reesk it." 
 
 " If a jumper lets out me vital spark, sorr, wid a pick- 
 handle, Oi'm thin kin' ut won't matter much ter me then 
 what th' law does to him after." 
 
 " Th 1 law's a gran' theeng ta ha'e on y'r side, laddie," 
 crooned the veteran, " after ye've made use o' th' pick- 
 han'le, it it helps ye ower th' inquest, an' it puts 
 weight in y'r arm durin' th' trouble; th' man who 
 fechts wi' th' fear o' a rope before his eyes only fechts 
 wi' half his heart in his job."
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 ON THE GOLD-RUSH 
 
 THE advent of the pair of camel-men set McGlusky's 
 quick brain working. He knew every type of man 
 whom gold drew into the wilds ; his life of action and 
 observation had taught him to discriminate between 
 types. 
 
 " We'd better keep oor ears pricked, Snowey," he 
 remarked, as the partv jogged along in the saddle. 
 
 "Faith, an' Oi'm thinkin' we won't gain much by 
 that," commented Ginger. 
 
 "Y're verra wise, mannie, maybe yell no' object ta 
 enlighten us on y'r reasons; th' Delphic oracles were 
 no" 1 in it wf you for reasons. 11 
 
 Ginger was too used to this kind of banter to wax 
 wrathful. 
 
 " What's th' use av prickin' y'r cars when there's no 
 wan illuminatin' our darkness wid their conversation ? 
 We hardly iver see a soul, an 1 them we do see have 
 mighty little ter say : they ask you where you've come 
 from, an' you ask them th' same ; they ask about food 
 an' water Fr th' horses, an' you put th' same questions, 
 an' an' that's about all." 
 
 " Bushmen don't talk much, buckie, an' it's from 
 what they don't say that ye maistly learn most." 
 
 " Meanin' what, sorr ? " 
 
 42
 
 ON THE GOLD-RUSH 43 
 
 " Weel, it's this way : A'm takin' ye ta a bit o' 
 country where A believe there's good gold ; if A 
 blethered aboot it, A'd have fifty prospectors on ma 
 track, an 1 that would mean fifty times th' competition 
 we will ha 1 if we gang as we are, an 1 it's th' same \vi' 
 maist men who follow this game." 
 
 " You think, sorr, those two camel-men were on 
 your trail ? " 
 
 " A dae not, for A've kept ma mooth sewn up, but 
 they are trailin' some one who has a scent, some one 
 who has found gold country, an' A'm goin' ta watch out 
 f r signs ; if there's a ' rush ' on, we'll need ta be quick 
 on oor pins if we want any o' th' pickin's ; they're 
 jackals, those two, an' they have means o' findin' out 
 when a 'strike o' gold 1 is made." 
 
 " If good gold has been located in these parts, kid," 
 explained Snowey, " why, you'll see somethin' worth 
 seein' ; men will come along from every point o' the 
 compass, an' come in a hurry, hard, resolute, determined 
 men, crazy with gold fever, who will travel for a week 
 without sleepin' or eatiri' worth mentioning an' they'll 
 live on enough water to wet a honey bee's feet. You've 
 seen th' Anzacs when they're fightin', well, kid, they 
 are a band of angels in war to what they are when th' 
 gold-fever gets hold of 'em." 
 
 The English Sergeant laughed. 
 
 " Then a gold-rush isn't my idea of heaven, Snowey." 
 
 " If it is," drawled the famous rifle-shot, " then you 
 like a heaven tough enough to fry in." 
 
 " How do th' prospectors find out when a rush is on, 
 an' where it is ? " 
 
 " Ginger, y'r thirst f r information beats a salt-plain's
 
 44 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 thirst f r rain. All A can tell ye is they do find out, 
 mi they come on foot, on horses, on camels ; they come 
 in backboards, an' they come in waggons, an' on bikes ; 
 they'll be com in' in aeroplanes soon, A've no doubt 
 about that. A prospector mad wi' th' gold-lust wad 
 come by telephone if th' blinkiif wires were down an* 
 he could squeeze inta th' metal. It's just plumb 
 craziness, an' nothing can stop it, or cure it." 
 
 " That's true, Old Timer, an,' Ginger, you ask how do 
 the prospectors know well, do you remember how we 
 used ter watch one vulture com in' through th' air after 
 a fight? First there'd be just one, lookin' like a speck 
 in th' sky, then away on th' horizon another an' another, 
 until th' air was full o' them." 
 
 "To hell wid thim auld vultures. Oi remember 
 them, they came from every old direction at once, an' 
 they all followed th' ringleader to th' right spot, an' 
 an' got 1) 
 
 " Well, that's how it is with prospectors an' a new 
 gold-rush ; I believe they scent it, or feel it in th" air." 
 Then Snowey dropped his voice. "Look at McGlusky 
 now he knows, yes, I tell you, he knows there's a rush 
 on not far away; he says he suspects those. two camel- 
 men, but I've been watchin' him the last two days an' 
 I know th' signs. Look how he carries his head, like 
 a horse listenin' to th' guns; see his eyes, why, they're 
 fightin' mad; see how he fidgets all th' time in th' 
 saddle, that ain't like him, boys, an' you watch him, 
 an' you'll see him sniff' th' wind." 
 
 " He can't smell gold, Snow 
 
 "Sure thing, he can't, but he'll smell horses an' 
 camels, an' men ; lh' wind carries fine dust, an' dust
 
 ON THE GOLD-RUSH 45 
 
 carries th' stink of camps with it. When th' right 
 time comes, he'll sense th' rush an' th' direction, an' 
 then he'll cease ter be a man, he'll be a tornado in 
 trousers, an' he'll go over or through anything or any- 
 body, an', Ginger, don't you start asking him why or 
 why not then. He'll drop his orders like a whip-lash, 
 an 1 all we've got ter do is to jump an' keep on th' jump, 
 for he'll work us an 1 th' horses till we drop, but he'll 
 be in with th' first o' th' gang that starts ter peg out 
 claims ; if th' horses drop, he'll finish on foot, but he'll 
 get there ; his pride in himself as a prospector won't 
 let him fail, an' boys, I sooner be shot than fail him." 
 
 Ginger grinned until the freckles chased each other 
 all over his face. 
 
 " Och, I belave in gold-madness now ; Oi've seen ye 
 fight, an' Oi've marched an' baked an' froze wid ye, 
 Snowey ; but, by th' whiskers av Mahomet, ut's th' first 
 time Oi've heard yez make a speech." 
 
 A shamefaced sort of smile greeted this jibe, and 
 instantly the Sharpshooter's face was in its old-time 
 repose ; the gold-light left his eyes, the tense alertness 
 departed from his figure, and he drooped in the saddle, 
 the same old, imperturbable Snowey with his mask on, 
 easy, careless, indifferent. 
 
 " You shore do love to score off your pals, son," said 
 Butterfly to Ginger. 
 
 " He don't give me much chanct ter score off him, but. 
 Butterfly, have yez noticed a change in Snowey ? " 
 
 " Since when ? " 
 
 "Since he met the teamster's daughter, Maida 
 Lamarde." 
 
 " Nothing to call on th' doctor about, son."
 
 46 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 "Thin, ye undesarnin' Yank, ye've not been mnkin' 
 good use av yV eyes. Our old pal Snowey ain't what 
 he was before them days : you watch him, he^s got 
 somethhr on his mind. OiVe seen something behind 
 them eyes av his like as if he'd had a bad nightmare 
 an" couldn't shake it off." 
 
 "Fade out," snapped Butterfly, "you're a dime 
 novel, an 1 if Snowey hears you he'll stop your circula- 
 tion. Anyway, who are you ter go liftin' up the 
 windows of a paPs soul an' peepin' into th' unswep' 
 corners ? " 
 
 .Me lifers a misfit," growled the Irish imp; "if Oi 
 ax questions, th 1 Auld Timer jumps on me, if Oi use 
 me great powers av deduction yerself miscalls me. 
 Oi'd swap places wid a mummy, an' gain on th 1 deal." 
 
 All that day McGlusky was strangely restless ; he 
 kept turning in the saddle, as if he expected to see 
 some one coming along the track behind him, or he 
 would lean over his horse's neck, and peer keenly ahead ; 
 every now and again he stood in his stirrups and gazed 
 searehingly to right and left. It was the same when 
 they camped ; he could not keep still, something 
 fretted him. 
 
 " Boys," he snapped, as they off-saddled, and pulled 
 off the pack, " don" 1 make y'r hobbles long th' nicht ; 
 A dinna want oor beasties to stray far; water them 
 well, and hobble 'em short." 
 
 "Gold-bug bitin' him," whispered Butterfly, "he's 
 got a hunch there'll be somethin 1 doin' before long." 
 
 At about midnight the veteran roused the camp. 
 
 " Laddies, it's on listen." 
 
 He threw himself full length amid the salt-bush, and
 
 ON THE GOLD-RUSH 47 
 
 placed an ear to the ground. All the others did the 
 same, except Snowey ; he rose with his bridle on . his 
 arm, for he had slept with it coiled loosely, ready for 
 any emergency, and as the others listened he slipped 
 quickly away in the starlight after his horse ; getting 
 to it, he took off the hobbles, slipped on the bridle, 
 jumped on its bare back, and rounded up all the horses 
 of the outfit and drove them to camp, which caused 
 McGlusky to remark to the others 
 
 " Gin ye catch yon buckie makin' a miss-cue in an 
 emergency, yell ha' whiskers growm" 1 on y'r teeth ; 
 he was no hatched in an incubator." 
 
 The listening group could make out nothing definite, 
 only a confused sound of moving horses, or it might 
 be cattle. 
 
 " On wi' saddles and packs." 
 
 There was no mistaking those tones ; a born leader 
 of men was speaking; not one officer in a thousand 
 knows how to give orders, but the old pioneer did, 
 and the men in the outfit were all soldiers of long 
 service. In an instant they were moving, and it was 
 noticeable that Ginger never voiced a remark and none 
 moved faster than he. Saddles were tossed on to 
 riding hacks, packs were on the backs of the pack 
 animals, and girths were buckled magically quickly, 
 and everything was ready for the start by the time 
 the vanguard of the " rush 1 ' came abreast of them. 
 
 At first glance, it looked like a routed army on the 
 run. There was very little noise ; now and again a 
 man's voice was heard cursing some animal ; occasion- 
 ally a dog barked. There were camel-men and men on 
 horses, mule teams, horse teams and footmen, vehicles
 
 48 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 of every kind and condition. A light waggon drawn 
 by eight good mules broke down badly ; the men in 
 charge of that party gave a hasty glance at the 
 damage, and saw that it was irreparable; no time 
 was wasted in vain lamentation; the mules were taken 
 out, packs were improvised on the spot, the mules were 
 laden with as much as they could carry, the rest 
 of the loading was left in the derelict waggon to 
 take its chance ; the mules and the men went on. A 
 do/en such incidents happened within half an hour. 
 If a horse or a mule fell and was injured, a friendly 
 bullet or a blow from the blunt end of an axe, put 
 it out of its misery ; if it was only partly disabled, 
 its gear was torn off' and flung by the track ; the 
 beast was headed out on to the big plain ; if it lived 
 well, it lived, though its owner would in all proba- 
 bility never see it again ; if it perished well, it was 
 a gold-rush. 
 
 For a time McGlusky kept his little band near their 
 former camp, saying 
 
 " We'll dae no good rushin' on inta th' night wi'oot 
 an inklin' o' where we air aiuain' ta go. Maybe when 
 daylight comes A'll see some man A ken, an' fin 1 oot 
 what's on." 
 
 But the crowd engulfed him, and would have overrun 
 him and his party, had he not moved with the human 
 stream, so he gave the order to move. 
 
 "Come on, buckies, but dinna get separatit ; -tick 
 close ta me. This is a gran' rush, an' not one in 
 ten kens mair than we dae ; th' real destination will 
 leak out later, then it will be merry hell an' th' de'il 
 tak' th' hin'most "
 
 ON THE GOLD-RUSH 49 
 
 The four closed up round their pack-horses, and the 
 veteran led them, and in this formation they joined 
 the stampede. 
 
 The dawn found them at a small township, and there 
 they found several other mobs of men and animals 
 assembled, whilst others were pouring in from nearly 
 every point of the compass. 
 
 " Some one must have struck it rich, partner, or th' 
 news has travelled ; this is no storekeepers' rush." 
 
 "You've said it, Snowey." 
 
 " What's a storekeepers' rush, sorr ? " 
 
 McGlusky turned impatiently away, but the Sharp- 
 shooter gave Ginger the desired information. 
 
 "A storekeepers 1 rush, son, is a fake find, got up 
 by storekeepers who want to clear out their stock o 1 
 goods. They spread th' news an' follow th' crowds 
 with loaded waggons, and sell their stuff at fancy 
 prices. Now have you got on to that ? " 
 
 " Faith, Oi have." 
 
 "Well, digest it, an' don't ask th' Old Sport any 
 more conundrums he ain't dispensin' general informa- 
 tion f r greenhorns at present he's busy, so will you 
 be directly ; this is a tough crowd, lots of bush loafers 
 an" 1 larrikins here as well as diggers." 
 
 McGlusky, who had been mingling with the mob, 
 came back to his outfit. 
 
 " We'll ride oot a bit on ta th' plain an' find water 
 f r our beasties ; we'll get none here ; they're sellin' th' 
 little they have in th' township at five shillm's a 
 gallon." 
 
 Snowey smiled. 
 
 " The old game, eh ? "
 
 50 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 McGlusky gave a grunt of disgust, and nodded 
 assent. 
 
 " Any beer in the township, Old Tinier ? I could do 
 with a drop."" 
 
 "A wee drappie left, Sergeant five shillings Fr a 
 sma 1 bottle o 1 Bass, an' whusky twenty-five a bottle." 
 
 " It's me f r temperance," drawled Butterfly, " them 
 prices convert me plumb teetotal ; I'm a member of 
 the anti-alcohol league from now on till prices 
 drop." 
 
 The veteran led his party well out into the salt-bush 
 until he struck water. 
 
 " Feed an 1 water th' beasties ; one of you watch th' 
 gear, two stay with th 1 horses while they snatch th' 
 grass, an' all of you watch out, there's goin' ta be no 
 end of horse-lootin' directly ; me and Snowey will ride 
 back an" 1 get th 1 strength o' things. See ta it no one 
 rushes this camp ; if a bunch o' footmen come loafin' 
 round, dinna let them get ta close quarters." 
 
 The two who understood the ways of gold-rushes 
 rode off. 
 
 "Til stand by the gear, you, Ginger and Butterflv, 
 watch the horses." 
 
 All serene, Sergeant." 
 
 >Yith a hunk of bread and bacon in his fist, the Iri>h 
 lad strolled near his Yankee friend. 
 
 " You shore have an amazin' gift f r plantin 1 victuals, 
 
 kid;' 
 
 "This is an emergency ration, Butterfly." When 
 the food had disappeared, the Irish lad said wheedlingly, 
 " Ofll toss you f r two fags, Butterfly." 
 
 " Got any to pay if you 1<
 
 ON THE GOLD-RUSH 51 
 
 " At prisint me tobacco larder's out av stock, but, ye 
 skinflint Yank, Oill have oceans av fags." 
 
 "When?' 1 
 
 " Oh, come off av ut when ? why, when Oi find me 
 old gold-claim that's waitin' fr me beyant. Come on 
 and be a sport Toss ! " 
 
 Butterfly, who could never refuse Ginger anything, 
 handed him his packet of fags. Ginger selected one 
 with great care and placed it behind his ear, and lit 
 another. 
 
 " What's th' one behind y'r ear for, kid ? " 
 
 " Och, that wan ? That's ter remember ye by, Yank. 
 Oi might fergit one, but two will live in me memory." 
 
 The good-natured lump of a man gave his tormentor 
 a playful taste of his boot, and chased Ginger to capture 
 what remained of the packet. They were full of their 
 pranks, when a shrill whistle caused them to wheel and 
 look in the Sergeant's direction. The Englishman was 
 standing with the saddles and packs in a circle round 
 him ; a group of men on foot wer coming towards 
 him. 
 
 " Wonder if those chaps are just mooseying about, 
 or " 
 
 " Or what, Yank ? " 
 
 " Or are they goin' ter make things a bit interestin' ? " 
 
 " Shall Oi go an' see ? Th' Sergeant's all on his 
 lonesome." 
 
 " Stay where you are ; our orders are to remain with 
 the horses, an' I suspicion that Britisher can keep his 
 end up." 
 
 " Him ? " scoffed Ginger. " He's just dyin' f r a chance 
 ter show McGlusky what he's made of; a scrap all on
 
 52 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 his lonesome will plaze him moreen a lock av yY hair 
 pla/es a girl at a bounliif-ho! 
 
 The little mob of footmen came nearer; thev walked 
 through the salt-bush with that peculiar swing of the 
 leg that always characterises men accustomed to big 
 spaces covered by low bushes ; townsmen would have 
 been stumbling every few yards. The Sergeant bent 
 over his pack-saddle, and when he straightened up he 
 was very quietly buckling on a broad leather belt of 
 Canadian frontier pattern ; two heavy guns dangled by 
 his thighs when he had finished. The group of men 
 halted, and one of them, affecting a bantering laugh, 
 called out 
 
 " Hello, mate ! Start in 1 a circus up this way ?" 
 A chorus of guffaws greeted this sally. 
 " Starting nothing" answered the Sergeant. " Just 
 keepin' guard over this camp while my mates are away 
 an" 1 I mean to guard it." 
 
 "\Fraid it will run away, pYaps."' 
 " It ain't goin' to run in your direction if it d 
 " Don't you be too fresh, young fellow ; you Ye no 
 bushman, youYe a new chum." 
 " Quite sure r * 
 
 " Quite. Why, you smell of salt-water yet.' 1 
 " If Fin new I'll get over that in time." 
 "Only new chums wear a belt full o' guns in dis 
 gountry,"' cried another of the mob, who spoke with 
 the thick voice of a foreigner. "Over here," 11 he con- 
 tinued, " we don" 1 wear guns in our belds ; we wear 'em 
 on our watch-chains for charm-, i 
 
 " Hello, Fritzy," retorted the Sergeant, " think I've 
 met your sort before."
 
 ON THE GOLD-RUSH 53 
 
 " Oh, haf you ? Where ? " 
 
 " Round about Neuve Chapelle, Verdun, an' other 
 places. The last time I saw fellows like you, they 
 were doin' a hop step an' jump back to the Rhine ; they 
 didn't wear guns, though they had thrown 'em away." 
 
 " Oh, cut the war out ; this is a gold-rush, mister," 
 shouted some one in the crowd. 
 
 "All right, let it rush; can't rush too soon or too 
 hard to please me," chuckled the Sergeant. 
 
 " Some one lifted our horses last night," cried the 
 man who had first spoken. 
 
 " Too bad of 'em," sneered the Sergeant. " You 
 must be new chums at the game to let 'em." 
 
 " I'm goin' to find 'em," snarled the fellow, who had 
 " bush tough " written all over him. 
 
 " Well, your horses ain't in my saddle-bags, and you 
 ain't goin' to look there for them." 
 
 " We'll go and have a look at those horses, though." 
 
 " Have a good look at the two men who are with 
 them before you meddle with the horses." 
 
 As he gave this piece of advice, a very wide grin 
 disturbed the Britisher's good-looking features. 
 
 " Look as if you'd had good news from home," jeered 
 a tough. 
 
 " I shall have good news to send home if you touch 
 those animals." 
 
 As the bunch of men came towards him Butterfly 
 Brown laid himself down and began to carve his name 
 on the warm earth with a penknife. Ginger sat on his 
 heels and pelted his comrade with tufts he broke from 
 the salt-bush. 
 
 The gang came and looked the horses over, and one
 
 .-51 McGLUSKY THE GOLD SEEKER 
 
 of them made a note of the brands on the animals in a 
 pocket-book. Having done this, he replaced the book 
 in his breeches pocket, and winked at his colleagues, 
 and Ginger heard him remark : "That will do the trick 
 any old time." 
 
 " Fve seen you ridin' that brown gelding hundreds of 
 times ; I'd swear to that in any old court o" 1 law,"" was 
 the answer to the speech from a runt of a fellow, who 
 looked as if he had lived in a saddle. 
 
 The brown gelding in question happened to be 
 Ginger's own property, and a favourite. His heart did 
 not go out to the two thieves. 
 
 "That grey mare o 1 yours, McGinty, looks a bit 
 tuckered up to me? said a rascal, as he eyed Butterfly 
 Brown^s riding hack. 
 
 " Oh, she^s as good as new. Ill fix her in less than 
 a week,' 1 remarked the party referred to as McGinty. 
 
 Ginger and his comrade said nothing ; they were 
 waiting on events. 
 
 The looters drew off and had a short confab ; then 
 one detached himself from his fellows and came and 
 stood over the queer pair who still went on with their 
 harmless occupation, as if there was not a stranger 
 within leagues of them. The looter, who looked like 
 a backblock storekeeper or butcher on the down grade, 
 gave himself as pompous an air as possible. 
 
 " Look here, you young fellers "" 
 
 Neither of the two adventurers obeyed this command : 
 Butterfly continued to carve with his knife and Ginger 
 kept on pelting him. 
 
 The looter tried again, but he might as well have 
 talked to a ham, for all the response he got. He trk-d
 
 ON THE GOLD-RUSH 55 
 
 several times more, and got very red in the face. 
 Nothing else happened. Butterfly's ugly face was as 
 solemn as the grave ; Ginger^s wore a vacuous grin, 
 which made him look the descendant of a long line of 
 imbeciles. 
 
 The rest of the gang came round, and then Ginger 
 suddenly turned the whites of his eyes round until his 
 eyes looked like old parchment, and sitting there on 
 his heels, he sang The Blind Boy. A voice as pure 
 and sweet as his had never mingled with the whispers 
 the wind made amid the swaying miles of quivering 
 salt-bush. A more non-plussed set of scoundrels never 
 existed than the ring of ruffians. 
 
 "Say," said one, touching Butterfly with his boot, 
 " are you balmy ? Where did you get him ? " indi- 
 cating Ginger. 
 
 Butterfly made a clucking noise with his tongue, 
 then moved his fingers in the deaf-and-dumb alphabet. 
 
 " I've shore seen some rummy outfits on gold-rushes,"" 
 whispered a horse-thief, " but this beats the lot." 
 
 He came round the other side near Ginger, and 
 standing between that young man and the American, 
 gave the Yank a not too gentle taste of his boot. 
 Instantly Ginger dropped forward on his hands and 
 knees, and bit the fellow in the calf of his leg ; then he 
 barked like a dog, alternating the barks with growls. 
 The gang jumped back, and the man who had been 
 bitten cursed volubly. 
 
 "Now you've done it, Mister." 
 
 Butterfly had risen, and his ugly face looked preter- 
 naturally solemn as he spoke. 
 
 " Done what, you blinkin' dumb showman ? "
 
 56 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 "You've shore set him off; he had hydrophobia in 
 England." 
 
 .is was too much for the gang; they knew they 
 had been hoaxed all along, and they grew nasty. 
 
 ' \\V11 cure his hydrophobia, as we've cured your 
 deaf-and-dumb game, you you horse-thief." 
 
 It was the fellow who had taken the brands of the 
 horses who spoke. 
 
 " Come off it ; they are our horses ; what kids' 1 talk 
 are you givin 1 us?" Butterfly gave his belt a hitch 
 as he spoke. 
 
 " Tin a justice of the peace, and these men claim the 
 horses you are minding." 
 
 The man who looked like a storekeeper was now 
 doing the talking, and the American at once realised 
 that the gang knew how to do a dirty job thoroughly. 
 
 "Of course they're our horses," said the rascal who 
 had copied the brands, producing his note-book. 
 You're a real legal justice o' th' peace, Willoughby, 
 look at this note-book, read the brands of our lost 
 horses in it, and then look them animals over an' 
 you'll see they're ours. These chaps want a suit o' tar 
 an" feathers, that's bush law."" 
 Then Ginger exploded. 
 
 " Get on wid it, then, ye dirty pack, you an* y'r 
 tar an' feathers, you an' th' horses ye never had." 
 
 The fellow who had described himself as a justice 
 of the peace waved his hand for silence. 
 
 IVrhnps these young men have been imposed upon ; 
 
 v may have purchased these horses, not knowing 
 
 that they had been stolen ; if they hand them over 
 
 without any trouble, we'll say no more about it, but
 
 ON THE GOLD-RUSH 57 
 
 there are plenty here who can swear whose horses they 
 are/' 
 
 Ginger lifted his hat and bowed like a prince. 
 
 " Oi'm thankin' yez. sorr, on behalf av me mate an' 
 meself. Yell be sparin' wid that same tar an' feathers 
 yez spoke av ? " 
 
 " If you hand the horses over yes." 
 
 "We can't do that, sorr, even to a justice av th' 
 peace, because we're only mindin' 'em Fr th' real owners 
 an' here they come." 
 
 As he spoke, the Irish lad indicated two horsemen 
 who were galloping towards them like a storm. The 
 gang followed Ginger's indicating fingers with their 
 eyes, and began to shift uneasily. 
 
 " Who are these men ? " 
 
 " Wait till they arrive an' ax 'em." 
 
 There was a fat chuckle in Ginger's voice which the 
 gang did not fail to notice. 
 
 The Sergeant had also seen the two approaching 
 horsemen, for he waved an arm to them, and at once 
 came striding towards Ginger and Butterfly. Snowey 
 and McClusky arrived on the scene before the Sergeant. 
 Jumping from the saddle, the Old Timer glared at the 
 gang. 
 
 " Wha's this ? Wha's wrang here ? " 
 
 Ginger told him. 
 
 " Man," growled McGlusky, " ye ma thank y'r gods 
 there's a big gold-rush on this minute, or A'd deal 
 roughly wi' ye/' 
 
 As he spoke, he hurled his massive right hand with 
 terrible force into the J.P.'s face, and jumped on him 
 with both feet when he fell. The Sergeant, using one
 
 58 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 of his big revolvers as a club, felled the person uho 
 had taken the brands, whilst Butterfly and Ginger 
 eased their feelings on the bodies of those of the gang 
 imt adjacent, as the Irish lad expressed it. Snowcy 
 did not join the fray, he was bu>y taking the hoi 
 off the animals that had been in dispute; he knew his 
 services would not be required for the handling of such 
 a set of scallywags, and he knew also that time 
 precious. 
 
 " Never mind pounding that brute," he shouted to 
 the Sergeant, who was beating up a scoundrel he had 
 caught. " Come an' lend a hand with the horses the 
 rush is on."" 
 
 McGlusky had already gone to the spot where the 
 gear lay, and stood with a pack-saddle balanced in his 
 hands. They rushed the horses down to him, and 
 without a word saddles and packs were buckled on. 
 M (rlusky, grim of mouth, with scowling brows, leapt 
 to his saddle, and rode south-west, and the rest followed 
 him. 
 
 " Where are we head in' for ? "" asked Ginger, after 
 a couple of hours' hard riding. 
 
 Snowey jerked his head in the grim leader's direction. 
 
 " He knows I don't, and I'm not fool enough to 
 All I know i> we've got to beat some of th' 
 ^mai tot men in Australia, and we'll do it if we follow 
 him." 
 
 " Oi don't see any one ter bate. We're all on our 
 lonesom> 
 
 ^ure thing, th" 1 Old Timer got a tip from some one, 
 an' lie's takin' a line of his own." 
 
 McGlusky never pau.-ed in his fierce ride, except
 
 ON THE GOLD-RUSH 59 
 
 when he came to a clay-pan with water in it. Then he 
 would leap down and snap out : " Drink th' beasties," 
 and as soon as this was done, he was in the saddle and 
 away again. He never vouchsafed a word to his men 
 concerning his plans ; he was a leader who led, and 
 brooked no questions or interference. 
 
 Sundown found them at the foot of a forbidding 
 range of barren hills. The old pioneer halted them 
 with a swift motion of his whip hand. 
 
 " Thanks be ter Mary, weVe struck camp at last ; 
 Oi'm near roasted, an" dog tired." 
 
 But Ginger's joy was short-lived. 
 
 " Lead y'r beasties up yon hill ; maybe we'll find 
 water an' feed in yin o' th' gullies on th' ither side 
 o' th 1 first line o' hills." 
 
 He was moving forward, bridle over his arm, as he 
 gave his command, and the Sergeant was at his heels, 
 and the rest went in Indian file. Stumbling over 
 boulders, tripping, and often falling on loose rock, they 
 went up and clambered down, only to climb again, for 
 at each gully McGlusky, after a swift survey, had said : 
 " Dry as a dust heap march," and they marched. 
 
 Panting like a dog, with his tongue out, on the top 
 of an ironstone hill Ginger gasped 
 
 " Is this a gold-rush, Snowey ? " 
 
 " A bit of it." 
 
 " Oi'm agin th' accumulation av riches after this then 
 a contented mind f'r me." 
 
 " Go and tell him you want ter quit." 
 
 The ex-Anzac Sharpshooter smiled as he heard the 
 profanity bubble out of Ginger at the taunt ; he had 
 merely used the jibe as a spur.
 
 60 McGLUSKY THE GOLD -SEEKER 
 
 They found n gully with water in its bottom and 
 ft grass at last. 
 
 "Off saddle." 
 
 " Listi-n to th" auld divil, Butterfly, he's as imparious 
 as Pharaoh orderin 1 his blinkin' host." 
 
 "Good man to follow, kid." 
 
 " Don't Oi know ut, an' don't Oi love him f r ut : 
 But it's me f r a flyiu' machine next time Oi'm imbibin 
 tli' intoxicatin" 1 delights av a gold-rush." 
 
 When the horses had drunk their fill and were 
 digging their teeth into the good grass, McGlusky 
 thawed a bit. 
 
 " We've no' done sae bad, buckies ; tha' first spell 
 were easy, twa hours ta fresh up th' horses, an' well 
 gang on again ; we'll ha'e some real hard goin" 1 then, 
 an' it will be worse ter-morrow." 
 
 Ginger, who was biting bread and bacon, nearly 
 choked himself. 
 
 " Och, sorr, Ofm thinkin 1 we'll knock th" 1 horses up if 
 we ride 'em any more tor-night." 
 
 " Y're richt, laddie, an' we will no 1 ride, well lead 
 
 \m? 
 
 A smothered laugh broke from the Sergeant. 
 
 " It's yerself wouldn't be laughin' this minute, 
 Sergeant dear, if yV saddle had rubbed two patches av 
 skin as big as a dinner-plate off'th' part ycz sit on." 
 
 " More wounds for you to brag about, my lad," 
 came the cheering re>|>o?i>e. Then in a whisper in tended 
 for the Irish lad's car only, the Englishman said : 
 "\Y. ':-! from the old country, my boy, we must not 
 grouse in front of the>e Australians and Yanks. 
 K ji your end up."
 
 ON THE GOLD-RUSH 61 
 
 " Faith, Oi'll kape that end up, Sergeant dear, an' so 
 would yerself if yez had lost two patches av skin as big 
 as a boot heel." 
 
 When the little party had eaten, the leader said 
 
 "Noo snatch a wink o 1 sleep, All wake ye in time ta 
 march." 
 
 They needed no second bidding, nor any rocking 
 either. The veteran took a last look at the horses, 
 then stretching himself on the rocky hillside, he listened 
 for a while to the tinkle of the horse bells ; now and 
 again a swift jangle of bells made him swear crisply. 
 
 " It's th' midges bitin' the horses' eyelids and nostrils 
 that make them shake their heads an' clash the bells, 
 Mac." 
 
 " A ken it, Snowey, an' A'm feared th' dom midges 
 will mak" 1 th' beasties restless, an' they may wander." 
 
 " Too leg- weary for that, Old Sport."" 
 
 "Air ye no 1 sleepin', Snowey ? " 
 
 "Me? No." 
 
 " Midges worryin' ye, buckie ? " 
 
 "Not me, Mac; my hide's too hard-baked fr a 
 midge ter work on, it's th' gold-bug bitin 1 , Mac." 
 
 " Oh aye, A ken aboot tha' same bug ; it's been 
 gnawin' at ma vitals these three days past ; every time 
 A close ma eyes A see a pile o' yellow nuggets." 
 
 " Same here. I'll buy a cattle station if I strike it 
 rich, partner." 
 
 " If A strike it lucky, ma son, A'll send Ginger ta 
 college Fr twa years. A'm theenkin 1 gin he has an 
 education he'll mak 1 a regenerator o' his kind ; th 1 
 buckie's born ta greatness, Snowey, he's a wunderfu' 
 whelp in his way."
 
 62 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 " He ?V agreed the ex-Anzac rifleman ; " hell shore 
 make his mark if some one don't kill him out here." 
 
 Mc(ilusky turned on his shoulder with a disgusted 
 grunt and went to sleep, for he had the faculty of going 
 to sleep or keeping awake at will, a priceless gift in a 
 leader of men. He could also wake at any given 
 moment. Ginger used to say 
 
 "Him ': He don't want any one to wake him, he 
 winds himself up like a blinkin' alarm clock before he 
 goes to his blank* 
 
 In a couple of hours he sat up, glanced at the stars, 
 and then : " Turn oot." His voice broke in upon his 
 comrade's dream>. He w.i> on his feet the next moment, 
 v for work, for, as Butterfly phrased it, he only had 
 to run his fingers through his whiskers and his toilet 
 was complete, for he slept in his boots in times of 
 i-miT^ency. His comrades caught the spirit of their 
 leader and moved with a snap that spoke volumes for 
 their training. 
 
 Ginger made some passing reference to the cuticle he 
 had lost through saddle-rubbing. 
 
 " Dinna fash, ma mannic, A'll cure ye once an' f r a' 
 o" that complaint when we've pegged out oor claims." 
 
 " Will ye, sorr ? Ho 
 
 " How : Why. A'll mak' a pickle o' brine, an' ye'll 
 . ::." 
 
 " Will Oi, sorr?" Ginger edged round on the other 
 of the horse he was leading. " Be me sinful soul, 
 Oi will not you an" y'r blinkin" pickle." 
 
 " It's a gran' recipe, it will mak' y'r hide like a 
 sa.Ulle-flap." 
 
 The others chuckU.il at Ginger's answer, which was
 
 ON THE GOLD-RUSH 63 
 
 not complimentary to McGlusky's experiments, and 
 then all talk was cut out, for a big barren hill loomed 
 in front of them, the sides so steep and smooth they 
 had literally to pull their horses up it by the bridles, 
 and knees were grazed and tempers frayed, and the 
 sweat ran off men and animals like rain before they 
 reached the top of that granite hill, which was almost 
 a mountain. 
 
 No one worked better than Ginger whilst the pinch 
 was on ; in fact, more than once he was most helpful to 
 his comrades, for he had the natural activity of a cat. 
 He glowed all over when Snowey, who was panting 
 from his exertions, in spite of his whipcord-like frame, 
 remarked 
 
 " You're a good bit of stuff in time o' trouble, kid." 
 
 Instead of replying to his comrade's praise, the Irish 
 imp whispered 
 
 " Do yez think th' Auld Timer'll stop now, if I throw 
 a fit ? Fve got one handy." 
 
 " Stop nothin', he'll carry you or strap you into 
 the saddle." 
 
 If the climb up that pile of granite was bad, it was 
 worse going down the other side ; even the hounds 
 slipped on the glass-like surface, which had been 
 polished by wind and sun and rain. Half-way down 
 one of the pack-horses broke a leg. McGlusky tore oft' 
 the pack and threw it on one side. 
 
 " We'll leave that ta rot here," said he. Then : 
 " Sergeant, put a bullet inta th' head o' th 1 puir beastie ; 
 it's th' kindest we can dae." 
 
 Coming to some good grass, the leader halted for a 
 bit.
 
 64 McGLUSKY THE GOLD SEEKER 
 
 \. -.vhile, A'll clam'er up yon hill an' 
 
 >py .Kit tli' lay <>' ill Inn." 
 
 The Sergeant took a step in the leader's direction, 
 but Snowey's iron grip fastened on the Englishman's 
 wrist and forced him back, whilst McGlusky went on. 
 
 " What did you stop me for ? " demanded the Britisher 
 hotly. " I'm younger than he is, I wanted to save him 
 that climb/ 1 
 
 " He's as touchy as hell to-night, Sergeant, he'd go 
 off quicker 'n blasting-powder. I know him better than 
 you do, an', son, don't you worry about savin' him any ; 
 we'll be all in an 1 washed out before he turns a hair; 
 too old at fifty is a thunderin' lie in th' bush. 1 ' 
 
 \Vhil>t McGlusky was away, a change came over the 
 weather: a rough wind had sprung out of nowhere, the 
 sky became overcast with scudding clouds, big rain- 
 drops fell, and the night changed from stifling heat to 
 raw cold. Suowey had been swift to notice the change ; 
 he took command in the pioneer's absence, by virtue of 
 his knowledge of the ways of the bush. 
 
 " Get y'r coats an' warm things out o' th 1 packs, an' 
 
 mart about it, we're in fr a change, and a chill now 
 
 mean pneumonia or bush fever an' dysentery 
 
 shake a leg." This done, he ordered the saddles and 
 
 packs to be dragged up the side of the hill. " When 
 
 rain comes like this," he explained, "it's apt to come 
 
 down in bucketsf'ul at a time, an' this gulley will have 
 
 a young torrent in it ; get th' horses over on this side, 
 
 they'll make uphill as th' flood-water come>. bush-bred 
 
 horses savee trouble when thev see it cumin'." They 
 
 all worked with a will, though they were dead weary. 
 
 ramble round an' pull up dead bushes, an' let's
 
 ON THE GOLD-RUSH 65 
 
 have a fire, it will warm us and guide th' Old 
 Timer." 
 
 " Gee, but the night has turned as black as perjury," 
 exclaimed Butterfly, " an 1 it's blowin' a blizzard." 
 
 " Och, thin, everything's mixed wid mercy," growled 
 Ginger. " We can't go further this blessed night ; it's 
 me f r a siesta." 
 
 He hunched his back against a boulder that acted 
 as a wind-break, and pulling his coat around his ears, 
 sought slumber. 
 
 McGlusky came trailing down the gully, the raging 
 wind and rain driving in his face and almost sweeping 
 him away. As soon as he had got his breath by the 
 camp fire, he said 
 
 " A kenned weel ye'd order th 1 camp a'richt, Snovvey ; 
 ye know th 1 way o' it." He peered at the lowering 
 sky. " A theenk maist o' th' rain wull blow ower soon, 
 an 1 th' moon will gie us a bit licht then." 
 
 " Thinkin' o' goin' on ? " queried Butterfly. 
 
 " Wha' else wad A be theenkin' o' ? Dinna ask ma 
 sic daft questions. We've saved many a waesome mile 
 by com in 1 th' way we ha' come, an* we've got far ahead 
 o' that gang we saw on th' track. A'm hopm' we'll get 
 ta a spot A ken aboot in time ta head off th' real 
 prospectors, or join up wi' 'em, an' if we dae that, then, 
 buckies, we maun tak' a pull at oor belts an' mak' a 
 race o' it, an' maybe we'll mak 1 oor fortunes th' chance 
 is weel worth th' wee bit trouble we've taken." 
 
 " What sort of a strike is it, partner reefing claims, 
 or alluvial ? " 
 
 " Snowey, it's alluvial, an' th' ground nae mair than 
 fifteen feet from top to bedrock, an' ten men who found 
 F
 
 66 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 it, an' reported it at th' Warden's Coort, took cx>t ower 
 a thousan' ounces o' gold each in a fortnight.' 1 
 
 " Sounds pretty good to me," murmured the Sergeant. 
 " Alluvial gold's worth three pounds seventeen an ounce, 
 ain't it-" 
 
 " It was afore the war, it'll be worth mair now. ma 
 son, an' y're entitled to peg oot feefty feet square o' 
 that ground, gin ye git there before it's all pegged." 
 
 " Til get there in time, or or bust." 
 
 " Ye' 11 no' bust, Sergeant, an' eef ye dae, ye share an' 
 share alike wi' th' rest o' oor party ye've played th' 
 man." 
 
 At Verdun a general had complimented the Sergeant 
 for work well done in the field, but he had not felt his 
 pulse quicken as it did when the old iron pioneer's 
 words fell on his ears ; the Britisher knew he had been 
 measured by a man and not found wanting. 
 
 The rain blew over for a while, and the moon peeped 
 fitfully between the scudding clouds. The leader ne 
 and stretched his cramped limbs. 
 
 " Get ready, buckies." 
 
 They rose, wet to the "skin and chilled to the bone. 
 The big man put a caressing hand on the Irish youth's 
 shoulder. 
 
 " Buck up, ma inannie, a wee walk f r a few hours 
 will warm ye." 
 
 " Och, ye needn't worry over me, sorr, yez promised 
 me a good time in Australia": Oi'm enjoyin' it fine." 
 
 - A thocht maybe ye'd be feelin' th' wet after th' 
 heat." 
 
 " M- - Wet, sorr ? Oi'm as dhry as a bone inside-." 
 
 Then began a battle that only men who had wrestled
 
 ON THE GOLD-RUSH 67 
 
 with hardships could have fought. The wind, which 
 had gathered force in the interval, smote them and 
 almost carried them away ; now and again squalls of 
 rain caught them as in a deluge ; horses jibbed and 
 had to be dragged along by main force ; falls were 
 frequent in the treacherous light, but ever McGlusky's 
 indomitable will prevailed, and his cry " Stick it, 
 buckies, stick it," kept their hearts up, and at last 
 they looked down upon a plain dotted with camp fires. 
 
 " Yen's th' men we had tae catch up wi 1 ; to-morrow 
 we've got tae beat 'em ; we've no" 1 done bad fr a 
 start." 
 
 " Did you hear that, Ginger ? We've not done bad 
 f r a start," chortled Butterfly, whose good humour a 
 landslip could not have broken. 
 
 " Did Oi hear ut oh, thank y'r mother Fr th' goat, 
 ye ondacent son av Columbus. Oi've heard all I want 
 ter hear f r wan night, unless ut's some one saying 
 buttered toast fr breakfast, an' then Oi'd say ut's a 
 lie."
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 MAJDA'S WILD KSDEAVOKR 
 
 Tun camp on which McGlusky's party had looked 
 down from the rocky heights of the Barren Hills was 
 OOOOOnd of men who had early got the news of the 
 gold-strike, and had pushed on. They were possibly as 
 hard-bitten a crowd as one could hope to find in one 
 bunch anywhere on the planet ; all were roughly garbed, 
 ino^t were as rough as their clothes ; some were decent 
 fellows ; many were good or bad according to their 
 circumstances this latter kind would go straight 
 enough in an easy, indifferent kind of way, as long as 
 they were not hard up, but if pinched by poverty, few 
 of them would stick at anything. They were repre- 
 sentatives of nearly all countries, adventurers who had 
 drifted out to Australia after the World War, mingled 
 with sons of the soil, and there were few lambs amount 
 these latter fellows. The keynote of the camp w is 
 (juiet recklessness. There was very little swagger or 
 noise, for real recklessness is seldom ostentatious ; now 
 and again some foul-mouthed, noisy brute advert i>ed 
 his pre-cme, but such pariahs were usually followed 
 by glances of contempt : they doubtless considered 
 they were creating a sensation a mistake that sort of 
 beast is apt to make at all times, but it would have 
 been a boot, not a gun, that would have been used on 
 one of that sort, had trouble arisen. 
 
 68
 
 69 
 
 At one of the fires four men sat playing dice for 
 fairly heavy stakes. They had spread a piece of water- 
 proof sheeting on the ground, where the firelight fell 
 full upon it, and on this they cast the dice. The man 
 who held the box was an ordinary-looking individual, 
 who might have passed muster as a master mechanic, or 
 something of that kind, but the men he was dicing with 
 knew him for the most expert professional gambler 
 south of the line. He shook the box slowly, and 
 apparently without method. 
 
 " Make your bets," he challenged, " I've got fourteen 
 to beat." 
 
 The bets were made and the gamester threw. 
 
 " Seventeen," was all he said as he raked in the 
 money. 
 
 " How many dice have you got up your sleeve, 
 Madox?" sneered a black-bearded man on the left- 
 hand side. 
 
 " Forgot to count 'em, Trench. Would you like to 
 look up my sleeve and see ? " 
 
 The man called Trench did not display any undue 
 eagerness to accept the invitation ; possibly he fancied 
 there might have been other things besides dice up that 
 same sleeve, he had heard of such phenomena in regard 
 to the gambler's clothing. 
 
 " Pass the box, I'll try my luck with it for a change," 
 he said, and Madox tossed box and dice across to 
 him. 
 
 Then the gamester spoke. 
 
 " Say, Trench, you can step back out of the firelight 
 and fill your sleeve with loaded dice if you like ; I shan't 
 object if the others don't. You're too blinkin' slow and
 
 70 McGLUSKY TIIE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 clumsy to get 'em down so as to deceive a bread-and- 
 butter kid." 
 
 The others laughed and Trench swore vividly. Then 
 he replied with dignity 
 
 I don't put loaded dice in my sleeve, sir." 
 
 "No. not as a rule," said Madox, yawning behind 
 one of his clumsy-looking hands with its thick, stubby 
 fingers. "As a rule, Trench, you slip 'em between 
 your belt an' your breeches. I've got tired of watching 
 you do it, so I thought I'd tell you. I hate things 
 when they grow monotonous." 
 
 " l> that why you hate honest work, Madox?" 
 
 That's it exactly; if work wasn't monotonous I'd 
 have been honest enough, and if I have to gamble with 
 you, Trench, I'll chuck the game and take to work 
 you're so easy." 
 
 " Easy, am I ? We'll see ; you don't know everything, 
 Madox." 
 
 " Lord no, but " 
 
 " Can I sit in ? " 
 
 The request came from a man who had come quietly 
 out of the night. 
 
 " Ye>. the more the merrier," called the gambler 
 cheerily. 
 
 Several other men, drawn by the sound of voices, 
 M up, and soon quite a little crowd stood or knelt 
 around the camp fire. 
 
 Mv name's Madox perhaps you've heard of 
 me 
 
 This was said to the person who had asked to join 
 the game. 
 
 ** Madox the gambler, eh '' "
 
 MAIDA'S WILD ENDEAVOUR 71 
 
 "The same, sir." 
 
 " Well, I've heard you're crooked." 
 
 " Nothing straight under the sun," was the smiling 
 retort. Madox always smiled, when he did not laugh 
 outright. 
 
 " That's your philosophy, eh, my friend ? " 
 
 " It is, stranger, and I'll wager the edge and middle 
 of my soul you are no better. You've made marks in 
 life with a crooked stick." 
 
 " You're a charming person, Mr. Madox." 
 
 " Yes, I live by my charm of manner. Now you " 
 with a swift glance at the newcomer's face " you could 
 go a long way on your beauty." 
 
 Every one present glanced in the new arrival's direc- 
 tion, and they saw a face of remarkable handsomeness. 
 " Too damn good-lookin' fr a man," as Bandy Hopkins 
 expressed it, and the face was backed by a figure so tall 
 and strong and supple-looking that it caused others 
 besides Hopkins to lower their voices when passing a 
 verdict unfavourable to the masculinity of the stranger's 
 looks. He was an individual quite at home in surround- 
 ings where crude passions might be apt to burst loose ; 
 his cool effrontery and utter nonclialance proved it, 
 just as surely as his voice declared him to be a man of 
 education and travel. 
 
 " Suppose we cut out the personal remarks, Mr. 
 Madox, and rattle the box, though I might remark 
 before we commence that I share your philosophy 
 learned by the lamp of experience ; I do not think 
 there is a straight man between hell and Afghanistan." 
 
 "Includin' Australia, Mister?" drawled a voice. 
 
 " Oh dear no : I'm sure from what I've seen of
 
 72 MiM.rsKY THE GOLD SEEKER 
 
 ralians they are all pure and undefiled and as 
 innocent as doves." 
 
 The bitterness that crept into the voice as the 
 stranger uttered this taunt, and the sneer that curled 
 his lip, were well worthy of the words. Madox picked 
 up the box and let three dice rattle into it. 
 
 " We play all in, eh, stranger .- " 
 
 Hooiiev is my name now." 
 
 " Fits you like a man's pants fits a kid's doll,"" 
 grinned Madox, " but Rooney it is, if you say so." 
 
 " It's as good as another, Mr. Madox, and, yes, we 
 play 'all in.' which is, I take it, Colonial phrasing for 
 ' all we know/ " 
 
 For half an hour they gambled, and the stakes kept 
 on increasing; that both were "sharping," each knew, 
 yet so quick were they that neither caught the other in 
 the act. The excitement of the watchers was so intense 
 that they did not hear a horse approaching, until a 
 voice said 
 
 "Can any one tell me where Bill Edmonds is 
 camped ? " 
 
 Then all eyes turned, for the voice was the voice of a 
 woman. 
 
 Maida Lamarde was looking down upon them from 
 the back of her thoroughbred mare. 
 
 An elderly grizzled man stepped out of the ring of 
 people. 
 
 " I'm right here, Miss Maida," He stood by the 
 girl's mare and spoke in a low tone. " What brings 
 you here, my girl? This is no place for you, or the 
 like o' you.* 1 
 
 k% I'm going to the rush, Mr. KdmoiuK"
 
 MAIDA'S WILD ENDEAVOUR 73 
 
 "What for?" 
 
 " I've taken out a ' miner's right,' and I'm going to 
 peg out a claim and work it too, if I'm lucky enough 
 to stake out a piece of land worth working." 
 
 " You'll never get there in time, my girl, and you've 
 no business to try." 
 
 " What's to stop me ? My mare can outpace and 
 outstay anything in these parts ; as for right to try, 
 I've as good a right as any one else." 
 
 " You're a girl, that's why, Miss Maida, and this is 
 no place for a decent girl." He looked round him and 
 spoke again : " These men are not the men who have 
 known you all your life, they didn't know your father. 
 Come to my camp an' stay the night, and in the 
 morning, you face home again."" 
 
 " I'll stay to-night, and thanks, but I go on with the 
 rush." 
 
 " You shan't." 
 
 "I shall." 
 
 " Your dad was a pal o' mine ; I'll do by his daughter 
 as I know he'd have done by mine." 
 
 " You're wasting your breath, Mr. Edmonds." 
 
 The girl sat in her saddle as all Colonial girls sit 
 who are riders of the bush easily, gracefully, as much 
 at home as if she had been in a rocking-chair. Her 
 good looks were plainly revealed by the light of the 
 moon. Her mare looked a bit leg weaiy, but there was 
 no sign of tiredness about the rider. 
 
 " Damn nice-looking lass that who is she ? " 
 
 It was the stranger who had given his name as 
 Rooney who spoke, and his voice reached the ears of 
 the girl in the saddle, as possibly the speaker had
 
 71 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 intended it should. She turned her eyes in his 
 direction, and looked down into his handsome face. 
 He, half sitting, half sprawling by the fire, with the 
 dice-box in one hand, looked up at her, and both gazed 
 long and steadily. 
 
 With a muttered oath old Bill Edmonds took hold 
 of the mare's bridle rein, and swung the animal round, 
 saying gruffly : " My camp's close handy." 
 
 " Pretty cool piece of calico, whoever she is." 
 
 Again it was the voice of Rooney, and this time he 
 addressed Madox in direct fashion. The gamester 
 leant forward and replied 
 
 " Yes, she's cool enough, cooler than you would be, 
 stranger, if her father, old Joe Lamarde, happened to 
 be in this crowd, and heard you speak of Miss Maida 
 like that" 
 
 "Joe Lamarde's daughter " 
 
 As he uttered the words, Rooney let the dice-box 
 fall from his hand. As he reached to pick it up, he 
 lifted his handsome head and gazed after the girl's 
 retreating form, and at the same moment Maida, as if 
 drawn by the magnetism of his regard, turned in her 
 saddle, and gazed hard at the man. 
 
 M.-ulox broke the spell. 
 
 " Did you know old Joe Lamarde, stranger ? "" 
 
 " Me? No, never met him, but I heard about his 
 death murdered, wasn't he ? " 
 
 " That's about it. He would have spoilt your beauty, 
 Mr. Rooney, if he had heard you speak of his daughter 
 as you did." 
 
 I'm afraid of no man in these parts, Madox. 1 " 
 
 Well, you don't look the sort that suffers from
 
 MAIDA'S WILD ENDEAVOUR 75 
 
 cold feet, but let me tell you, you won't find many in 
 these parts that are afraid of you either." 
 
 " Oh, shucks, who cares one way or the other ? 
 Madox, I never make trouble, but if it comes my way, 
 I keep my end up." 
 
 " Shall we rattle the box ? I'm too restless to sleep, 
 an 1 I guess there will be a grand stampede as soon as 
 darkness goes."" 
 
 Restlessness seemed to be the major note in the 
 camp ; all there knew what a grim struggle lay in front 
 of them, but the bite of the gold-bug drove away all 
 desire to sleep. 
 
 " Seems to be gettin' a thunderin' good downpour o' 
 rain in th' Barren Hills yonder," remarked a man who 
 had been peering into the night. 
 
 " Yes," said Madox, " I noticed it an hour ago ; 
 wonder if it will spread to these plains." 
 
 " Dunno ; you never can tell where rain will spread 
 to at this time o 1 the year, but I'm blinkin' glad I'm 
 not tryin' ter cross th' Barrens in a storm." 
 
 " Me too," interpolated a long, lanky individual, who 
 had " Australian cattle-man " written unmistakably all 
 over him. " I did it once, though," he drawled ; " there 
 wasn't a drop o' moisture or a breath of air on the 
 other side o' the Barrens when I entered th' ranges, an' 
 there wasn't much on these plains when I got through, 
 but all the same I got water an' wind enough amongst 
 them blinkin' hills ter last me a lifetime that night. 
 Before the rain came, the wind blew th' gravel in my face, 
 an' it cut an' marked me as if I'd had smallpox, an' what 
 skin th' gravel left, th' hail cut away when it came 
 yes I'm glad it ain't me in th' Barrens ter-night, mates."
 
 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 \Iu-t h;i' had prevail" business ter take you through 
 on a night like that, Ike," drawled a voice from the 
 drrle. 
 
 Ike grinned. 
 
 " I shore had mighty pressin' business too know 
 Trooper Jim 
 
 " Y 
 
 \\'ell, he was doin' th' pressin 1 ." 
 
 ' What was it that time, Ike '* '" cooed Madox. 
 
 Well, my cock-bird, a bunch o' old Grantham's 
 steers kept follerin' me, and fcllerm" me, away near 
 Minteroo station. I'm mighty nervous o' wild stei 
 
 Ike stopped to bite off' a corner of his tobacco plug, 
 and the crowd laughed, for in all the back country 
 there was no man who could handle bush-bred cattle 
 like this long, lantern-jawed, skin-and-bone individual, 
 who was prattling of his fear of horned beasts. 
 
 " Tell us about it, Ike." 
 
 Nuthin' ter tell : that bunch o' steers just wouldn't 
 leave me, they was shore the most inquisitive lot o' 
 horns an 1 hoofs that ever run wild ; they seemed ter 
 think I was somethin' they had known once, an' an' 
 mislaid ; they got on my nerves at last." 
 
 - Hu>hed you, eh, Ike." 
 
 " They did," said Ike sadly, " an" 1 they followed me 
 right bang to the rail-head an' an' th' blame fool 
 things got tfaetnelva sold somehow, an' went away by 
 train an' Trooper Jim c:imi- monkeyin' round lookin' fr 
 me an' that's how I came ter cross th' Barrens in just 
 sich a night as they're haviif in th' Barrens now. Gee, 
 IMc-n ter th' wind ! If any prospector's in them hills, 
 - gettin' merry hell."
 
 MAIDA'S WILD ENDEAVOUR 77 
 
 " He won"t make it, whoever he is ; only a gent who 
 had pressin' business like Ike's would make it. I know 
 th' Barrens : I've had some." 
 
 The man who voiced this opinion did not look like a 
 person who could be easily daunted, yet he spoke with 
 conviction. 
 
 " I wouldn't wager no one would make it, even to- 
 night,"" ventured Madox. " We've some tough proposi- 
 tions in th' way of prospectors foolin' round these parts, 
 an' they'll take some stoppin' when th 1 gold-bug's 
 bitin'." 
 
 " Lord help 'em if th' wind means business when 
 they're crossin' Mount Lonely, 1 ' murmured Ike ; and 
 McGlusky would have endorsed that view had he been 
 present, for it was on the slippery granite slope of 
 Mount Lonely that the best of his pack-horses had been 
 blown off' its feet to its death. 
 
 " Glad I ain't got no pressin' business near that 
 howlin' wilderness," ejaculated a youth who looked like 
 a boundary rider down on his luck. 
 
 " You will have, son, you shore will, unless you learn 
 ter fake brands better'n you did the last lot I saw you 
 convertin' ter socialistic purposes. You mav thank 
 your lucky stars Trooper Jim didn't drop his opaque 
 vision on them same brands before th' cattle was hustled 
 away from th' rail-head. If you can't improve on that, 
 you go ter th' city an' hustle up a job ter distribute 
 tracts in th' Chinese quarter that's a job you might 
 hold down Fr a season." And at that sally every one 
 laughed except the boundary rider. 
 
 Whilst the men in the open were gaming and talking 
 round the various camp fires, Mai da Lamarde was com-
 
 78 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 fortably installed in old Bill Edmonds's tent. This 
 teamster was a speculator in his way ; he carted goods 
 from rail-heads to mining camps much as Joe Lamarde 
 had done, and in addition he ran a kind of general store 
 when things warranted it. He had no settled place for 
 his store, but pitched a big tent at any convenient spot, 
 which he stocked with every imaginable thing that 
 prospectors might be supposed to require. This store 
 he left in charge of his wife, a very capable woman of 
 the pioneer type, who in addition to her other cares, 
 had to look after their only child, a boy of about 
 fourteen, who, through a sunstroke in infancy, was what 
 the diggers termed a "natural. 1 " This boy was a walk- 
 ing epitome of Scripture texts, which he was in the habit 
 of dropping into the midst of any and every conversation 
 in which he took part. He had acquired this habit 
 through his mother's teaching, Mrs. Edmonds having 
 detennined to offset his mental deficiency by a most 
 pious training. 
 
 The good woman fully endorsed her husband'* vkw 
 of the situation when the teamster brought Maida to 
 the store. 
 
 " By the land," she exclaimed when she saw the girl, 
 " I wonder your poor father didn't tuni in his grave 
 when you started ! And what was your mother about 
 to let you come on this madcap errand, Maidee ? " 
 :e couldn't stop me," was the cool answer. 
 
 Couldn't stop you, indeed ! By the land, I'd have 
 stopped you pretty sharp if you'd been my lass, I would 
 that, if I'd had to spank the nonsense out of you. I 
 don't know what girls are a-comiif to these days, by th' 
 land, I don't."
 
 MAIDA'S WILD ENDEAVOUR 79 
 
 "Did your mother spank you when you ran away 
 from home to get married ? You know you were two 
 years younger than I am now when you did it, Mrs. 
 Edmonds." 
 
 The good woman gasped, and the teamster chuckled, 
 but the " natural " remarked in his preternaturally 
 solemn voice 
 
 " Judge not, lest ye be judged." 
 
 " That boy talks like a deacon, Susannah," remarked 
 Edmonds. 
 
 " He don't," snapped his spouse, " he talks like a 
 parrot." 
 
 " Gets right on to the spot most times, though ; 
 sometimes I fancy he knows more'n we think he 
 does." 
 
 They gave Maida a good supper and her mare a feed 
 of corn, and advised her to go to bed. 
 
 "Couldn't sleep a wink if I did. I'll just sit up 
 an' watch." After a while she spoke to her host : 
 " Mr. Edmonds, who was that man by the fire gambling 
 with Madox ? " 
 
 " There were a good many gamblin', Maidee." 
 
 "You know the man I mean the one who spoke, 
 the good-looking one." 
 
 " The fellow who had the cheek to talk about your 
 good looks, lass ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 Promptly the "natural" came on the scene again 
 with a quotation : " All men are liars," he said, his eyes 
 fixed on vacancy. 
 
 " This one wasn't, not that time anyway, sonnikin," 
 grumbled the teamster, "but he was too fresh by a
 
 80 McGLUSKY THE GOLD SEEKER 
 
 mile. Don't know his name, Maidee, but he calls 
 himself Kooiu-y." 
 
 You don't think that is his name ? " 
 
 No, I don't ; he invented it on the spot, but I don't 
 care what his name is, I don't like him he's a shade 
 too rapid for my money." 
 
 " The race is not always to the swift," murmured the 
 " natural." 
 
 If you open your head again for an hour, I'll I'll 
 gag you," grumbled the teamster. 
 
 The " natural " looked solemnly at the clock, and 
 for an hour no more quotations bubbled out of him. 
 
 The teamster busied himself making up accounts ; 
 his wife sewed a patch into a pair of the "natural's " 
 pants, and Maida Lamarde sat with her elbow on the 
 table, and her strong chin resting in her palm, her 
 looking either into the past or the future she >a\v 
 nothing of the present. The " natural " watched the 
 clock. 
 
 Suddenly the flap of the store tent was jerked aside 
 and a big, rough-looking man stood in the aperture' 
 His clothing was torn and wet and fouled with mud, 
 hi> face was bleeding from many small wounds. 
 
 " Mil name's McGlusky." 
 
 "By th' land, an' ye look it! " exclaimed the dame, 
 dropping her work and rising quickly. 
 
 The teamster-storekeeper pushed away his papers, and 
 
 almost as soon as his wife. Maida never shifted 
 
 her position. The "natural" allowed his solemn gaze 
 
 to shift slowly from the clock until his eyes fell upon the 
 
 face at the tent entrance. 
 
 "Jimmy McGlusky, where in the name of little fishes
 
 MAIDA'S WILD ENDEAVOUR 81 
 
 have you sprung from ? Man, I thought you'd been 
 killed in the war." 
 
 " Na, na, Bill, A'm no' dead yet. A've just crossed 
 th 1 Barrens yonner, where th' winds air a wee bittie 
 blustersome, an' th' gravel's flyin'. A'm scratchit a 
 trifle, that's a'." 
 
 " Scratched a trifle ! " growled the teamster ; " why, 
 old mate, your face looks as if it had just passed 
 through a winnowing machine.' 1 
 
 " By the land, it does, Mr. McGlusky, an 1 your 
 hands are all torn and bleedin'." 
 
 " Dinna ca' ma ' Mister ' McGlusky, unless yeVe got 
 anything against me, dame ; A dandled ye on ma knee 
 when ye were a wean. A^m as A were before th' war, 
 just plain Jamie, though in Italy where me an' ma 
 mates were fechtin' at th 1 end o' th 1 great campaign, 
 they did ma th 1 honour to brand ma Chevalier Jamie 
 de McGlusky. Noo let ma introduce ma mates." 
 
 The rest of the party had crowded in behind the 
 leader, and a badly battered lot they looked, for the 
 storm in the Barrens had spared none of them. Dame 
 Edmonds, full of commiseration, began at once to 
 attend to them, for she was all woman, from her head 
 to her heels. The " natural " simply stared at the new- 
 comers. Maida gave no sign, she did not even shift 
 her pose, and they glanced at her awkwardly. The 
 Sergeant was the first to break the spell : he advanced 
 with hand outstretched. She rose, and their hands 
 met. 
 
 " How on earth did you get here, Miss Maida ? " 
 
 " By an easier route than you did, judging by the 
 look of you, Sergeant. But," she added, " I expect I 
 a
 
 82 MiU.I'SKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 had a good loiuj start of you; 1 got the news early, 
 and I know this country inside out : I've spent a lot of 
 my life 1; 
 
 IfcGfadcy broke in gruffly 
 
 " Good f r ye ve didn't come through yon hills th' 
 nicht, th' Hyin' shingle wad ha' spoilt y'r beauty, A'm 
 theenkin'." 
 
 Mv l)cauty, as you call it, is my own, sir." 
 
 The big man looked distinctly uncomfortable under 
 the girl's steady gaze and formal manner. Snowey also 
 appeared ill at ease. Butterfly Brown was, or appeared 
 to be, indifferent, but Ginger, usually such a woman- 
 over, was unquestionably hostile. The girl looked him 
 over in a way which Butterfly at a later date described 
 "as if she was sizin' up somethin' fr sale, an 1 didn't 
 think it worth th' price." 
 
 When McGlusky learned that Maida was intent on 
 joining the rush at dawn for the purpose of pegging 
 out a claim, he voiced his opinion 
 
 " It's no' a job Fr a wumman, an' na company f r a 
 lass leastways no lass wi' a character ta lose." 
 
 " I'm not asking for advice, sir, nor assistance either." 
 
 McGlusky swore softly amongst his whisker*. 
 
 " Och, let ut alone, sorr, that wan can take care av 
 If." 
 
 The girl turned her eyes on Ginger, and a flicker of 
 a -mile played about her mouth. 
 
 " Quite nicely, sir, thank you." 
 
 Her words, though crisp, were charged with niockei v 
 
 "Oi'm spakin' me mind." 1 
 
 " Such a large mind, and so full of experience in the 
 ways of the bush, sir."
 
 MAIDA'S WILD ENDEAVOUR 83 
 
 The mockery that had been around the girl's mouth 
 had crept into her eyes also, and Ginger, usually so 
 ready with a retort, drew back abashed; he felt that 
 the bush-girl was laughing at him, and he did not like 
 it. He and Snowey and Butterfly Brown went out to 
 feed the horses, for the teamster sold oats as well as 
 human food. During the operation Ginger remarked 
 
 " Do yez know who that girl reminds me av ? " 
 
 " Ought ter remind you of a bull-ant, the way she 
 stung you, son,"" chuckled Butterfly. 
 
 " I'll swear she don't remind you of any one who 
 was in love with you, kid," drawled Snowey, " if she 
 does, you shore like your love done up in funny 
 packets." 
 
 " You remember Lucrezia Corbellia, th' flower-seller 
 av th 1 Rialto Bridge ? " 
 
 " Not likely ter forgit that human posy, son, she was 
 a peach ter look at, but she didn't leave a nice taste in 
 th' mouth," was Butterfly's answer. 
 
 " You haven't forgot her ayther, have ye, Snowey ? " 
 
 "I'm a bad forgitter, kid, I can hear her now, jibin' 
 at Signer McGlusky, as she called th' Old Timer. But 
 she wasn't all bad, she had her good points." 
 
 " She had that, Snowey, she made th' loveliest corpse 
 Oi ever saw after th' firm' party had done wid her, she 
 looked like a drame when she was dead." 
 
 " What put th' Italian signorita into what does duty 
 f r y'r brain, Ginger ? " 
 
 " This girl Maida Lamarde," growled the Irish imp ; 
 " she's another that looks like something good f'r 
 breakfast, an' tastes like treachery ter me." 
 
 " Is that because she admired th' size o' y'r colossal
 
 84 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 mind, -on, an" an" didn't hide her admiration from th' 
 ofm?" 
 
 Ginger made a vicious dab at Snowey's impassive 
 face, but only succeeded in punching the stable Ian tern 
 which the Sharpshooter adroitly put in the way of 
 the outflung fist. The red-headed youth was about to 
 renew the assault, but Snowey remarked 
 
 " Be careful, son, this stable"^ only built of boughs, 
 an' boughs burn easy."" 
 
 The quick burst of temper died out of Ginger. 
 
 " All right,"" he grumbled, " but you watch out, an 1 
 don't let th' girl in th" store set you afire. Oi wudden't 
 ate meat off th' same plate wid her, if she finds th' best 
 claim on th n new rush." 
 
 "\\liy?" 
 
 " Because she shambled her own father, an' if she 
 didn't, wan av her lovers did, an 1 she was in ut, that's 
 why." 
 
 Maida Lamarde, standing just outside the bough 
 :e, heard that awful accusation, clenched her hands 
 by her sides for a passing moment, then her strange 
 Hnilc played around her lip-. 
 
 " Forewarned is forearmed, Ginger," she murmured, 
 and flitted back to the store. 
 
 It still wanted some little time ere the dawn came, 
 and whilst the men ate a hearty supper provided by 
 the dame, the teamster questioned them concerning the 
 doings of the ^Australians and New Zealand troops in 
 the various theatres of the World \Yar. Maida asked no 
 questions; the "natural" sat with his queer, clouded 
 fixed on vacancy. Suddenly the teamster asked 
 
 Do you recollect Sam Brophv's three boy- .- "
 
 MAIDA'S WILD ENDEAVOUR 85 
 
 " A mind them weel, though they were only laddies 
 when A left. Anything amiss wi' them ? " 
 
 " All killed in the East, McGlusky." 
 
 " They were no 1 at Gallipoli ? " 
 
 " No ; they went out after that, when you were in 
 France." 
 
 " We've made history, but th' young Anzac nations 
 ha" paid a waefu' price fr it ; we ha' gie'd oor best ta 
 th' guns." 
 
 " Was it worth it oh, was it worth it ? " 
 
 The cry came from the dame's lips. 
 
 " Am no' knowin', dame. If it was f 'r th' real freedom 
 o' th' world yes ; if not no. A felt sure aboot it 
 once, A'm no' so sure since A've come home ta ma ain. 
 Oor wummin dinna greet ower their losses, they bleed 
 inside, an' tears o' blood are waesome." 
 
 The Sergeant, who had fought much in the Old East, 
 told of that end of the campaign. He was a splendid 
 raconteur, when he cared to talk, and he made the 
 scenes live before their eyes, until they could feel the 
 hot sands of the desert shifting under horses' feet, and 
 the dreary, God-forsaken valley of the Jordan lay in 
 all its desolation before their mental vision. He did 
 not forget his English and Scottish or Irish comrades ; 
 he laid many a laurel on their absent brows, though he 
 never spoke of his own deeds, nor was he stinting in 
 his praise of Anzac valour, patience and endurance, and 
 his hearers warmed to the English soldier who knew 
 ho\v to hold the balance level. He was telling them 
 how the Anzacs were the first to enter the ancient city 
 of Jerusalem, and how the veiled women looked at 
 them in wonder. The name of Jerusalem seemed to
 
 86 GLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 wake Biblical memories in the clouded brain of the 
 " natural." 
 
 " Yes," contiuurd the English soldier, " honour where 
 honour is due the Au/ncs were the first to enter 
 Jerusalem, and " 
 
 The " natural " finished the sentence for him, drawling 
 his words gravely. 
 
 " Yes ; an" 1 the shepherds watched their flocks that 
 night." 
 
 A broad grin illumined Ginger's face. 
 
 "Bedad, sorr, if he's a * natural,' he's got a grand 
 grip av campaigning Oi'm thinkin' more'n th' flocks 
 had ter be watched." 
 
 Then, leaning back in his seat, he lifted up his 
 matchless voice and sang The Holt/ City until even 
 the "natural's" eyes grew dim. The others took up 
 the chorus, McGlusky's deep voice adding its thunders 
 to the harmony. 
 
 Madox the gamester paused with the dice-box in his 
 hand, poised to throw, and listened with the throng 
 around his camp fire. 
 
 " I've heard some funny things on a new rush, 
 Rooney, but that trumps the trick." 
 
 And Rooney, looking up, said: "Yes; and h< 
 the dawn coming, and that will trump all.'' 
 
 A lot of other people beside Rooney were watching 
 for that first faint flutter of pale light in the east, and 
 the camp broke up as if by magic. Horse-., camels 
 and mules were saddled or hitched up, and before the 
 dawn had fairly arrived, the gold-hunters \\ere stealing 
 away, for Mike Jackson, one of the lucky finders of the 
 new ground, had mounted on a stump, and in a few
 
 87 
 
 terse sentences had given the exact location to th 
 crowd. He was the man who had been into the main 
 Warden's camp and reported the'find, and secured for 
 himself and mates a " reward " claim apiece, which 
 meant that each of the original finders was entitled to 
 one hundred feet of ground, instead of fifty feet, the 
 space allotted to all others. Mike and his mates had 
 pegged out their ground before he went in to announce 
 the find, and their ground would be inviolate, no matter 
 how great the crowd might be, for no digger will ever 
 try to jump a reward claim, for by such means are new 
 discoveries made known, and the whole community 
 would rise like one man to protect the " reward " 
 party. 
 
 McGlusky and his little crowd were amongst the 
 first on the move ; their horses had received a bad 
 gruelling in the hills, but to compensate for this, they 
 had fed well on oats, whilst nearly all the other horses 
 had been compelled to wander all night seeking for the 
 scanty grass. 
 
 Possibly the very first person to get away in the 
 saddle was Maida Lamarde, and her light weight and 
 the quality and condition of her mare and her know- 
 ledge of the country gave her a chance which more 
 than one seasoned prospector envied her. Her pack- 
 mule was not the equal of her mare, but she had not 
 overloaded it, and the big black mule could travel fairly 
 fast, and could outstay any horse on a badly watered 
 and sparsely grassed stretch of country ; it was for these 
 latter qualities she had chosen the brute, and because 
 her father had valued it highly, and he had been a 
 judge.
 
 88 Ma.USKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 "Better keep clo>e to us, if you mean to go, Miss 
 Maida," the good-natured Sergeant had said at the 
 last moment. 
 
 " It's kind of you,"" the girl had answered brightly, 
 ' but I'll take my own line, and beat you to it. 
 Besides, your friend Ginger would think I'd crossed his 
 luck." 
 
 " Ginger's a white man all through, Miss, but he is 
 a bit cranky when he gets a kink on any subject." 
 
 " He's welcome to his kinks. Just tell him from me 
 that bough sheds have ears sometimes." 
 
 She cantered away, her big black mule on a leading 
 rein plugging along beside her, and the Sergeant 
 watched her go. 
 
 "That girl will take some beating to-day, and as 
 long as the race lasts, 1 " he said. 
 
 " She Vill, if she gets fair play, but there are some 
 around here who will stick at little if they see a chance 
 to get that mare and mule. But I guess she's wise to 
 that," commented Snowey. 
 
 " They'll need to ride hard to catch her, an' if they 
 do it's a pumpkin pie to a potato they'll wish they'd 
 mislaid her," was Butterfly's contribution to the con- 
 versation. Then, as if seeking information : " I wonder 
 \vlu-re shell find a safe camp to-night ?" 
 
 Promptly a solemn voice at his elbow answered 
 
 "The birds of the air have IK 
 
 " Come out of it, quick," gasped Butterfly. " This 
 ' natural ' has shore got me hoodooed, he's th' voice of 
 a lost intellect cryin' in th' wilden. 
 
 " It"> me own opinion," confided Ginger, as the party 
 cantered behind McGlusky, " that ' natural ' ain't as
 
 MAIDA'S WILD ENDEAVOUR 89 
 
 short av views on life as he seems on th 1 surface av 
 him. Oi have a hunch he does it ter dodge workin' 
 Fr th' auld man ; ut's not idiocy, ut's jaynius un- 
 developed. He'll go through life wid that cloudy look 
 in his big eyes, an' hell see everything barrin' hard 
 work, an' if he does see that, hell dodge it." 
 
 "Jealous, eh, kid?" chuckled Snowey. "They say 
 two of a kind never agree." 
 
 Every one giggled, except McGlusky ; if he heard, 
 he did not heed. He had picked some point on the 
 far-away horizon, and for that he steered as a bird flies ; 
 he never glanced to right or left. 
 
 The horses' hoofs and legs swished through the low 
 bushes that dotted the plain, each bush separated from 
 its neighbour by a few inches. Far as the eye could 
 reach in front of them the salt-bush plain spread out 
 like a grey-green sea ; not a ripple of wind disturbed it 
 near or far, no sign of animal life was observable, not 
 even a lizard or a snake showed between the salt-bush. 
 
 "It's as level as a billiard table," cried Butterfly. 
 "It beats th' sage-bush plains o' my country ter 
 blazes."" 
 
 " Glad you like it, partner," responded Snowey ; 
 " you're going to get your share of it ; it's hot now, 
 early as it is, what it will be like by mid-day will 
 take some guessin'." 
 
 Butterfly loosed himself in the saddle ; he had the 
 cowboy seat and made himself comfortable. 
 
 " Didn't say I liked it, pard ; you ain't got to like 
 things when the old boss leads, you've only got to do 
 'em, an' if he ain't got his fightin' boots on ter-day, 
 I never saw 'em."
 
 90 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 They rode hard and silently for a good while, taking 
 their cue to slack up or push on from the .silent man 
 in front. Ginger cracked the silence; he had 1 
 unusually quiet for him. 
 
 " Och, Snowey " 
 
 " Bite it off', kid ; whatever it is ! ^ 
 
 " Where's all them kangaroos an' emus we used ter 
 see on th' other side av th' ranges? Why ain't there 
 any here ? " 
 
 " Got too much sense, son." 
 
 "Bedad, thin, they're th 1 only natives av y'r auld 
 country Oi've seen afflicted wid that complaint y're 
 not sufl'erin' from it yerself." 
 
 An amused flicker twitched the Sharpshooter's harsh 
 lips. 
 
 "Spake, fr th' love av Mary, an 1 don't be bastin' 
 '.f inside wid ondacent silence." 
 
 " \Vhat do you want to know ? " 
 
 " Everything," snapped the Irish lad. 
 
 "Then consult a doctor," came the exasperating 
 reply, as Snowey started to fill his pipe. 
 
 " Ochone, that's what ()i ought ter have done before 
 Oi started out wid yerself." 
 
 " Can I help you, Ginger r" 
 
 " You can't, Sergeant ; ye don't know any more than 
 meself." 
 
 Snowey gave the impetuous youth a glance, and the 
 kindliness in his eyes encouraged Ginger to try again. 
 
 Snowey, when th' terbacca's civilised ye enough ter 
 be dacent, will ye tell a pilgrim idiy there are no wild 
 animals b <-lf on this big plain r" 1 
 
 No water, son."
 
 MAIDA'S WILD ENDEAVOUR 91 
 
 "No water an 1 th' roof av hivin like blue steel, 
 blisterin' y'r eyes ter luk at ut ? No water ? " 
 " That's about it." 
 
 Ginger looked from the face of one comrade to 
 the other, and noted the steady sternness of all ; then 
 he growled out an oath. 
 
 " \Vve been tratin' me like a kid ; yeVe known this 
 all along," 
 
 " Knew it would dawn on you sooner or later, son ; 
 no use to add to your troubles, an" 1 well, you know 
 now." 
 
 Ginger rode on in savage silence for a mile or two, 
 for he hated what he termed his comrades' attempts to 
 " dry nurse " him, though no one knew better than he 
 that they did the things he objected to in order to save 
 him from worrying. 
 
 " Say, Snowey " 
 
 " Well, kid f " 
 
 " Did that girl Maida Lamarde know this big plain 
 was waterless ? " 
 
 '" Guess she did ; she knows all about this part of 
 the world." 
 
 " Did you blighters think Oi'd funk anything that a 
 girl cud face ? " 
 
 "Talkm" like a fool now, chum, we know you'd funk 
 nothinY' 
 
 " Do we reach water ter-night ? " 
 " We may or may not it's all a gamble, Ginger." 
 " An 1 if we don't ? " 
 " We go on till we do." 
 
 " Be square wid me, Snowey ; if we go on till th' 
 horses are bate, an' still find no water what then ? "*
 
 92 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 th' horses, an" go on on foot."" 
 
 Keep goin" 1 till we drop or or find that blinkin' 
 gold-gulley, eh, matey ? " 
 
 "Struck it, kid." 
 
 A new expression had dawned on the freckled face ot 
 the Irish youth, a new light had come into his eyes ; in 
 some strange way the reckless, careless boy had become 
 a man for the time being. So had it always been with 
 him, when he accompanied McGlusky on his great ad- 
 venture, to Gallipoli, and in the stern days in France 
 and Italy. 
 
 " Bedad, Snowey, ut's ufs a fight." 
 
 When he settled back in his saddle, even McGlusky's 
 cast-iron visage was not more expressive of determina- 
 tion than Ginger's, though the lad could not for the 
 life of him Jceep from his features the jaunty recklessness 
 that was natural to him in times of stress or danger. 
 
 The day wore on, and the heat became terrific. 
 McGlusky halted his band, and spelled the horses, and 
 the animals being busli bred, ate the sparse dry grass, 
 though how they got it down their parched throats 
 was a mystery. The men each took a sip from the 
 ran\;i> water-bags on their saddles, and ate bully-beef 
 and biscuits. 
 
 A few prospectors mounted mo>tly on camels passed 
 tin in a^ they rested. One, a dark handsome fellow on 
 an Indian camel, pulled up and asked 
 
 " Have you fellows seen anything of a girl, riding 
 a mare that shows a lot of breeding ? She was leading 
 a jMick-mule." 
 
 Did she have a useful-looking staghound with 
 her ? "" queried Snowey.
 
 MAIDA'S WILD ENDEAVOUR 93 
 
 Yes." 
 
 "Cousin o 1 mine," lied Snowey easily. "What are 
 you so anxious about her for, Mister ? " 
 
 The reply seemed to stagger the stranger. 
 
 " Oh er didn't know she had any relations in this 
 rush." 
 
 " Well, she has." 
 
 Snowey 's words were simple, but there was a wealth 
 of menace in his tones. The Sergeant had been 
 examining the handsome face of the man on the camel, 
 and he followed Snowey's lead. 
 
 " Yes, 1 ' he said, " that girl has relations in this rush, 
 and friends also : Tm one, and," indicating McGlusky, 
 "he's another." 
 
 " A'd no" 1 like ta seem inqueesitive, stranger, but wha' 
 ma' y'r name be ? Ma niece didna tell ma she expectit 
 ta be followed by any yin." 
 
 Ginger gasped as he heard the old pioneer adopt 
 Maida Lamarde in this off-hand manner, and he was 
 far from pleased. 
 
 " My name " a half-smile played round the mouth 
 of the camel-man, " My name is Rooney." 
 
 " Weel, Mister Rooney, dinna fash aboot th" 1 lass, we 
 can tak 1 a' th 1 care tha's required o" her." 
 
 Mr. Rooney gazed down from his seat on the camel, 
 and took stock of the group. Then he remarked 
 
 " Of course I may be mistaken, but I think you are 
 as much related to Miss Lamarde as I am." 
 
 McGlusky sauntered close to the camel, and said 
 very softly 
 
 " Meanin' what, Mister ? " 
 
 " Meaning you're a liar."
 
 91 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 "Man,"" purred Mac, "eef ye'll coom doon frae y'r 
 jh-rrh t"r a wee while, may th' crows gie ma burial eef 
 A dinna pull y'r nose till ye can buckle it ta y'r belt." 
 
 No time to waste at present," smiled Mr. Ilooney, 
 " but if we meet on the gold-rush, you shall do that to 
 me if you can." 
 
 " Weel, weel, business afore pleasure A'm no blamin' 
 ye, man ; gang after y'r gold-claim, but gin A hear 
 ye ever gie oor lassie an unclean look frae those black- 
 guard eyes ye ha' in y'r head, A'll put saddle an' 
 bridle on ye an' ride ye wi' spurs." 
 
 "Thanks," said Mr. Rooney, and his white teeth 
 showed in a vicious smile. "Perhaps I'll be wearing 
 the spurs when the riding takes place." 
 
 "Och, yon" sneered Ginger, "he'll spoil y'r beauty 
 when he meets yez." 
 
 " Possibly he may, my young friend," laughed 
 Rooney. Then, with a comprehensive glance over 
 Ginger's none too handsome features, he said in a 
 nicely modulated voice : " In the meantime, young man, 
 if he can do anything to improve your looks, he will 
 be doing a public service ; please don't let my camel 
 see you, the poor beast doesn't deserve that". 
 
 Ginger choked, but Snowey, lounging lazily in 
 Rooney's direction, said in the drawl that with him 
 alway> heralded danger 
 
 .-ittin' well up on a camel talkin' big is one thing, 
 >tran^iT, gettin' down an* makin' good is another. 
 \Yhat do you say to sain pi in' th' salt-bush with me? 
 You'll have the best of the weights by two stone." 
 
 Rooney had an insolent retort upon his lips, when 
 his eyes met the Sharpshooter's. Something in the
 
 MAIDA'S WILD ENDEAVOUR 95 
 
 unmoved steadfastness of the young fellow's regard made 
 Rooney pause. Then 
 
 " I don't know that I've any trouble with you," 
 he said. 
 
 " Och, ye big baste, an' ut's a good judge av a man 
 y're provin' yerself now," jeered Ginger. "Me mate 
 'ud give yez two stone, an' th' father av a batin'." 
 
 " Perhaps but this old world is full of surprises, 
 Beauty. 1 ' 
 
 "Tha' will dae. Gang y'r ways, an 1 gang noo, or 
 A'll gie ye a hoist off y'r camel an 1 squeeze y'r eyebrows 
 inta y'r ears." 
 
 There was such a snarl in McGlusky's voice as he 
 threw out this threat, that Rooney realised he had 
 pushed tempers to the limit of endurance, yet he 
 displayed no fear. He just swung his camel round, and 
 as he started he said 
 
 " Well, I don't suppose you can help your manners, 
 it's the way you're bred, but if I'm needing hands 
 on my claim when you get to the new rush, look me up, 
 and I'll see what I can do for you." 
 
 "Thank ye, sir," answered McGlusky with quiet 
 dignity, " Ma' A ask th' name o' y'r claim ? " 
 
 " Haven't pegged it yet, but I shall I always get 
 what I want." 
 
 "Bedad, thin, ut's here, waitin 1 f'r ye, Mister." As 
 he spoke. Ginger held out a piece of rope. " Oi'm 
 sorry," he jibed, " Oi can't provide th' gallows too, but 
 th' government will do that f 'r yez in toime." 
 
 "A pretty wit, a very delicate and dainty wit," 
 sneered Rooney, but they all noticed that his handsome 
 face had paled beneath its tan.
 
 96 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 " You touched a button you couldn't see that time, 
 kid," 1 murmured Butterfly admiringly, "an 5 I'll bet 
 a barge full o' bananas to a baseball your gallows 
 remark woke a sleepin 1 dog in that chap's mind ; he 
 won't want no souvenirs to keep y'r memory green. 
 How you manage ter locate mysteries beats me." 
 
 " Fade away wid y'r flatthery, Yank, ut's no credit 
 to me, ut's what th' Auld Timer calls spontaneous 
 combustion av th' mind, ut's ut's a gift."
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THE FINDING OF THE GOLD-CLAIM 
 
 " SADDLE up ! " 
 
 There was no mistaking the rasp in McGlusky's 
 voice. Rapidly the thirsty horses were put in their 
 gear, and the party pushed forward. The weather had 
 been bad before the halt, now it was heart-breaking : a 
 hot wind, such as dwellers in temperate climes cannot 
 even dream about, had sprung up, it met them in the 
 face, blistering hot, as if it had come straight down the 
 belly of some mammoth furnace ; the horses hung their 
 heads and plodded on ; the men all pulled their soft- 
 brimmed hats well down over their^ eyes, all except 
 McGlusky : he sat bolt upright in his saddle, his hat 
 square on his head, a picture of indomitable manhood, 
 defying the elements. Once Ginger, whose spirits 
 always rose in the teeth of a tight corner, tried a little 
 raillery 
 
 "Foine auld country this av yours, Snowey. Oi 
 don't wonder yez all love ut; Oi'm beginnin' ter 
 understand th' conjanial nature av th 1 Anzacs now 
 Oi've sampled th' scenery." 
 
 " You will in less than an hour.' 1 
 
 " Will Oi why?" 
 
 Snowey pointed to a number of little spirals of dust 
 the wind was lifting. 
 
 H 97
 
 98 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 Ginger grinned. 
 
 M \Vhat are they, matey ? Are thini spinnin' jiggers 
 th* ghosts av y'r people who have died out : 
 through through over-atin' an' drinkin', an" 1 gineral 
 riotous livin' in this land av milk an' honey ? " 
 
 The glance the sharpshooter turned on his pal was 
 compressed affection symbolised. 
 
 " Don't jaw, son ; keep all th' moisture in your 
 mouth f 'r breathin' purposes, you're goin' ter need it. 
 Them spirals of dust are th' advance guards of a big 
 dust-storm, an' we'll be lucky if we get th' In 
 through." 
 
 (iiuger looked hard into the speaker's face. 
 
 " Is ut as bad as that, matey ? " Snowey nodded. 
 " Ye're wastin' no moisture on words, chum." Then he 
 glanced at McGlusky, and for once his soul peeped 
 through his eyes. " Bedad, matey, ut will crack him 
 across th' middle ter be bate." 
 
 " Does he look like being beat ? " 
 
 " Him ? He looks as if he was ridin' to a weddin' 
 wid three bridesmaids fightin* ter be Mrs. McGlu.kv. 
 'I'h' divil couldn't bate him, an' an' this auld du>t- 
 storm shan't." 
 
 Not if you can help it, you game little " 
 
 Snowey finished with an expletive that when uttered 
 in a tone of endearment is seldom resented by bushmen, 
 but if siiid with a snarl is a deadly insult. 
 
 " Cut out th' moisture ; who's wastin' words no\v 
 jeered Ginger, though he thrilled all over to the praise 
 of this man who praised so few. 
 
 The dust-storm came down towards them, a great 
 reddish-yellow wall of fine sand and clay mixed.
 
 THE FINDING OF THE GOLD-CLAIM 99 
 
 " Och, ut's a thousand fate high," gasped Ginger, as 
 he watched the dread phenomenon of the unbroken 
 plains. 
 
 "Reach up to th' sky before it gets to us, kid." 
 
 McGlusky swung his horse round and faced his men. 
 
 " Yonner comes th' storm ; ride as close as ye can, an 1 
 keep th' pack-beasties in th 1 middle A'm goin' ta try 
 a venture we'll ride through it if we can, if we canna 
 we'll halt an' chance oor luck. Grip y'r bridles, 
 buckies, an' dinna let y'r horses turn tail ta th 1 dust till 
 A tell ye. Eef ye canna face it, or y'r beastie falls, 
 throw yersel's face doon on th' ground, an' " he 
 tossed one big hand towards the skies " th' old grey 
 gods o' oor forbears be wi' us." 
 
 They rode on. 
 
 "Prayin', Butterfly?" 
 
 It was the irrepressible voice of Ginger. 
 
 " Yep prayin' f r rain, son.' ' 
 
 The next instant the dense reddish mass was on 
 them, over them, all round them, and in that moment 
 Snowey stretched out a lean sinewy hand and grasped 
 Ginger's bridle rein, and drew the Irish lad's horse 
 close to his own. For one brief second the comrades of 
 so many fights and stern hardships were naked soul to 
 soul, for Ginger stooping forward clasped his hand 
 on that other that clung to his bridle rein, and man 
 spoke to man along the channels of the spirit. 
 
 The dust became so thick as they rode into it, and 
 as the wind from behind pressed it on to them, that 
 soon they could only dimly make out the forms of each 
 other and the horses. McGlusky had bidden them bind 
 their handkerchiefs over nostrils and mouths, and it
 
 100 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 well for those who were new to such storms that 
 they had a veteran to advise them. As it was, they 
 were soon fighting for their lives, with eyes full of 
 scorching grit and lungs well-nigh choked ; with the 
 heat that had become devilish grilling them, their 
 brains began to reel, and only the knowledge that 
 McGlusky was leading them kept them steady ; instinct 
 and long knowledge of their leader told them that their 
 only chance lay in following him, no matter where 
 or how he led. Ginger at another period tried to 
 explain how he felt in that hour, but all he could 
 say was 
 
 " By Mary, it was beyant all describin 1 ! We rode 
 in th 1 middle av a red an 1 yaller nightmare, wid our 
 horses walkin' slower an 1 slower at every step, as th' 
 dust grew denser ; thin Butterfly's horse was clane bate, 
 an" 1 fell wid him, an 1 him under, an 1 th' Sergeant, who 
 was near him, clambered out av his saddle an 1 some- 
 how, only Mary knows how, pulled Butterfly from 
 under an* turned th' Yank face down on th' ground 
 an' lay down beside him, an 1 th' Sergeant's horse 
 turned tail to th 1 storm an 1 wandered down th" wind, 
 poor baste, an* we never saw it alive again, an' my 
 horse was bate too, an" 1 tried to turn, an' would ha' 
 turned too, for me head was bustin', an' Oi cud only 
 cling to th' saddle, but Snowey stuck ter me bridle 
 rein, an' kept me horse movin'. Thin Snowey "s horse 
 giv out, and dropped to uts knees, an 1 me chum, me 
 pal, he just got to his feet an" grabbed my rein, an" 1 
 be gosh, ye can belave me or ye can give me the lie, 
 but Snowey dragged that horse o' mine on, dragged 
 ut through that blinkin' sea o 1 dust till we hit th 1
 
 THE FINDING OF THE GOLD-CLAIM 101 
 
 sweet air beyant, an 1 when Oi saw him drag th' hand- 
 kerchief from his face, th 1 blood was drippin' out av 
 Snowey's ears an 1 from his nostrils, an' mixm' wid th 
 dust on his face, like rain mixes mud near a brick- 
 field. It's a blinkin' hard countiy in thim parts, but it 
 made men like Snowey an' th 1 Auld Timer. Oi washed 
 me mouth from water in me bag : Oi'd ha" 1 gulped th' 
 lot, but Snowey snatched it. Then McGlusky came, 
 an 1 all he said was : ' Butterfly th 1 Sergeant ? ' an' 
 Snowey nodded back th' way we'd come, an 1 an 1 th 1 
 auld sportsman, he slipped from his saddle, an 1 took 
 his water-bag an' he plunged back into that red an' 
 yaller hell ! all he said was : ' Son, ye look after ma 
 wee laddie,' and awayThe went, till he looked like a 
 ghost in th' damned dust, and then he disappeared 
 entirely, an" 1 Snowey sat dabbin' me lips wid a wet 
 corner av his handkerchief an 1 throttlin' me when Oi 
 tried to fight him f'r th' water-bag, for Oi went loco 
 about that time, an' Oi disremember if Snowey found 
 time to take a drink fr himself." 
 
 It was the Sharpshooter who told how later on 
 McGlusky and the lion-hearted Sergeant came stag- 
 gering through the dense-coloured clouds, bearing the 
 unconscious body of Butterfly Brown between them. 
 He told also in his quaint way how the English soldier 
 reeled and would have fallen after the Yankee had 
 been placed on the ground. 
 
 " It shore was good to see the Old Timer then, 1 ' said 
 Snowey. " Our English pal was all in ; he must have 
 had enough o' that cussed storm-dust inside him to 
 make a good-sized garden-plot, an' his lips was all 
 swelled an 1 cracked an' bloody from th' alkali in th'
 
 102 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 dust, an' his eyes just like two balls of blood, but 
 i^.-une not a streak of yellow in him from armpit to 
 armpit, an' no strength left in him : he'd given his 
 last ounce to save his pal, an" 1 he shore began to crumple 
 up like a wet towel when you try to stand it on end 
 after a bath, there wasn't enough vital spark left in 
 him just then ter make a taper ter see ter kiss a cuddle- 
 s' >me wench by, an 1 yet he tried ter laugh funniest 
 kind o' a bubblin' sound that laugh made ever I heard, 
 it was like somethin' bein' poured back in a bottle. 
 Old Mac just wrapped his arms around the English- 
 man like a mother welcomin* home a kid that's been 
 ter sea an* reported lost in a storm. He carried th 1 
 Sergeant an' laid him beside Ginger an' fed him drop 
 by drop with water from his bag whilst I dragged 
 Butterfly Brown back from the pearly gates o' th' 
 beyond by th' same means ; leastways," added Snowey, 
 " Butterfly said when he come round that it was th' 
 pearly gates I dragged him from, but I shore wouldn't 
 have thought so myself, judgin' by his language, which 
 was frequent an' full o' variegated spots o' colour like 
 prize blooms in a flower show. Butterfly didn't used 
 ter cuss what you might call extravagant on general 
 principles, but after that day you only had to remark 
 'dust-storm, 1 to hear him develop profane vocabulary 
 that would make Sam Johnson an' old man Webster 
 an' all th' Nuttall family despair of ever makiu' a new 
 dictionary to fit. Some o' them pictorial sentences o' 
 that Yank would shore make a football bounce if it 
 was spiked to a board an' filled with jokes as old an' 
 as heavy as you buy in London Punch Fr sixpence." 
 After the desperate hazard of the alkali dust-storm,
 
 THE FINDING OF THE GOLD-CLAIM 103 
 
 McGlusky overhauled his losses. The horses Butterfly 
 and Snowey had ridden were dead ; the Sergeant's 
 animal was found so far spent that a kindly shot ended 
 its troubles, and most of the others, except McGlusky's 
 own animal, were badly knocked up. 
 
 As night came on, a heavy dew fell, and the animals 
 licked the moisture from the bushes greedily, and ate 
 of the slightly damped grass. 
 
 " We've fared badly, Snowey, but ithers will fare as 
 bad, an' some worse. A'm theenkin' there will be men 
 as weel as beasties lyin' in th' track of th' storm th' 
 morn's morn ; we've much ta be thankfu' for, me luck 
 were always fair ta 1 middlin' in th' bush." 
 
 " Hope that girl was not in th' track of this storm, 
 Old Sportsman." 
 
 " Effshe were, son, we can look f r th' justice o' th' 
 old grey gods." 
 
 Mac " 
 
 " Weel ? " 
 
 " Do you think she knew who did her father in ? " 
 
 " Eff A find her body on th' plain A'll tell ye after 
 Ave seen her face. A'm reservin' judgment till then." 
 
 "Mac, if she knows, she's shieldin' th' man, an' if 
 she's doin 1 that, she's a " 
 
 A heavy hand fell on the Sharpshooter's shoulder. 
 
 " Laddie, dinna judge till ye're sure; hell's a hospital 
 for unjust judgments." 
 
 "All right, leave it to your old grey gods, Mac. 
 You're back to paganism since you came home to th' 
 bush." 
 
 " Elemental theengs brings us to elemental thochts, 
 buckie, an' yon storm were elemental enough to wake
 
 104 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 that ancestor in ma blood who used to crack clams for 
 his breakfast with a stone hammer." 
 
 "If it wasn't," drawled Snowey, "your ancient 
 ancestor ought never ter have had any other diet but 
 clams.' 1 
 
 " Let's gie a keek at th' present, an* dom th' past, 
 me mannie." 
 
 " \Vhat's y'r programme ? " 
 
 " What dae ye theenk yersel' ? " 
 
 Me, Mac ': Well, I shore think I've got a leader 
 who's able ter do all th' thinkin' fr th' outfit. You 
 drop your orders, an 1 I'll do my baby best ter see 
 they're carried out. You saved all our lives to-day, 
 an' most o' th' outfit; that alkali storm rattled me 
 some when it was caressin' us, but you say, Old Sports- 
 man, is there anything outside a divorce court could 
 rattle you, eh ? " 
 
 "Dinna speak wi' leevity o' sic awesome things as 
 divorce courts, buckie, ye gie ma th' creeps. Noo, eef 
 A'm ta dae th' leadin' an theenkin' f r th' outfit, there's 
 only one plan ter ma mind." 
 
 " Let's have it." 
 
 " You an' me will saddle th' beasties an' we'll strap 
 those three weans on an' let 'em sleep, an' we'll lead th' 
 outfit forrard in th' hope o' comin' to a creek." 
 
 Y 
 
 Snowey was smiling at the description of the brawny 
 Butterfly and the stalwart Sergeant as " weans." 
 
 " Twa hours' sleep will dae f r you an' me, we're bred 
 U-r th' bush." 
 
 "Good enough. You give th" word Mac, an' count 
 me in."
 
 THE FINDING OF THE GOLD-CLAIM 105 
 
 "A'm no 1 given ter praisin', Snowey, ye ken that, 
 but y're a mate worth havin', ye never let a man 
 doon." 
 
 As it happened, there was no need to strap any of 
 the others on their animals, though they were badly 
 done up. Ginger clambered into his saddle, and passed 
 a few remarks, and promptly went to sleep. Butter- 
 fly and the Sergeant were mounted on pack-horses. 
 McGlusky led his own hack. 
 
 " Here, I say, what are you two footing it for while 
 we ride?" cried the Sergeant, as he saw the veteran 
 and Snowey striding in front of the outfit. 
 
 " You sit there an 1 sleep, it's my turn to march ; 111 
 shore claim a horse when I'm leg weary ; we'll ride turn 
 an' turn about, mate," was Snowey's cheerful answer, 
 and with that the Englishman and the Yankee had to 
 be content. 
 
 The movement of the walking horses and the terrible 
 experience they had passed through soon brought the 
 cobwebs to the riders' eyes. 
 
 "I'm a whale fr sleep when I get a chance at it, 
 pardner." 
 
 This came from Butterfly in drowsy tones, and the 
 English Sergeant answered 
 
 " I'll be shot if I can keep my eyes open." 
 
 "Shut 'em then, an' y'r mouth too," came gruffly 
 from the old pioneer. "Y're off duty th' noo." 
 
 The Sergeant heaved a sigh of content, and his head 
 fell forward. 
 
 Snowey fell back and looked at the three swaying 
 figures, and then he slipped the reins over each horse's 
 head and knotted the three bridles together, to keep
 
 106 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 the animals in line. Having done this, he rejoined the 
 veteran. 
 
 " They're all snorin' th' cradle song ; you get ah- 
 I'll walk behind th' horses and keep "em up to their 
 work, Old Sport." 
 
 " Verra good ; A'll swing a leg, A've marked a course 
 by yon star." 
 
 " Why don't you ride, Mac ? " 
 
 "A'm savin' ma beastie. A've a plan, Snowi-y." 
 
 " Knew you'd think of something : your old noddle 
 wasn't made ter grow grass on." 
 
 So McGlusky strode ahead and steered a course by 
 the stars, and Snowey marched behind and drove the 
 horses on hour after hour. 
 
 Once the Sergeant woke with a start and sat upright 
 with a jerk. 
 
 "Time to relieve guard, eh ? " he asked. 
 
 "Time be damned ; you've got the jumps, Sergeant ; 
 you've only been asleep ten minutes. I'll call you when 
 I want you."" 
 
 The Sharpshooter told the lie with such swift readi- 
 ness that it did its work, and the Englishman with a 
 grunt'of relief dropped into sleep again. 
 
 Once the horses, worn as they were, shied at a tlead 
 camel that lay on the plain. McGlusky examined it. 
 
 " Choked wi' th' dust that nearly did us in, son ; 
 there air mair o' them somewhere on th 1 plain, A'm 
 theenkinV 
 
 "Guess y're right, Mac. Camels will often Hop 
 right down in th' thick of a dust-storm, if a hot 
 wind's blowin" rather have a good horse any old 
 time myself."
 
 THE FINDING OF THE GOLD-CLAIM 107 
 
 " Aye, mannie, an' when once they flop down old 
 Blastie hirasel' canna git 'em up again. A horse is a 
 horse a' th' time ; a camel's a camel when it wants ta 
 be, an' a damn conundrum when it don't." 
 
 The coming of daylight found them on the edge 
 of a dry creek where one solitary gum-tree upreared 
 itself. 
 
 " Halt an' wake the laddies." 
 
 Before the words were well out of his mouth, the 
 leader was clambering to the bottom of the 
 creek. 
 
 " Any signs ? " 
 
 No one listening to the Sharpshooter's voice as he 
 put his question would have surmised that success 
 or failure, probably life itself, hung on the answer. 
 McGlusky was on his knees clawing out dry sand 
 and gravel. 
 
 " Dry as last year's wool on a wire fence, buckie, but 
 yon tree wad no' be here an' livin' if there was no 
 watter. Pitch ma a shovel, an' mak' camp." 
 
 Snowey tossed down two shovels from one of the 
 packs. 
 
 " See to camp, Sergeant." 
 
 That was all he said, and a moment later he was 
 working on a hole of his own in the bed of the creek 
 a dozen yards below the veteran. Ginger soon fol- 
 lowed, and the Yankee and the Englishman looked 
 after camp. Stripping the horses, they let them nibble 
 the grass, which was scarce enough to make a mouthful 
 a rarity. Soon the horses gave up seeking it ; they 
 stood with drooping heads and bloodshot eyes, the 
 very picture of misery.
 
 108 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 The Sergeant noticed that his mate moved as if in 
 pain. 
 
 " Anything wrong, chum ? " 
 
 "Well," murmured Butterfly, "when that horse fell 
 in the dust-storm, an' rolled on me, he may have 
 meant well, but he didn't key me up like a show 
 pianner. 11 
 
 "Feelin 1 bad, eh? 1 ' 
 
 " Feelin' like a kid caught in a neighbour's melon- 
 patch." 
 
 " You lie down, chum, and I'll rig up a sun shelter, 
 I can do it with a couple of blankets. 1 ' 
 
 " Well, if I'm to be the prize babe in this show, I 
 might as well take all the honours, Sergeant. 11 
 
 He slid down amid the salt-bush as he spoke, and 
 fainted dead away. 
 
 The Englishman wasted no time in calling for help ; 
 he just poured a little of their precious water between 
 the American's lips, pushed an old coat under his head 
 for a pillow, and then rigged a sunshade over him ; 
 then he looked down into the rugged face that had 
 grown so ghastly all at once, and said 
 
 "Busted, an' nearly settled, an' never whimpered 
 once." 
 
 He ran a hand that was strangely gentle over the 
 sick man's forehead, and rising, went to the edge of the 
 creek, and looking down saw the three inseparables at 
 work. Each had a hole going ; McGlusky and Sno \\vy 
 were shovelling steadily, but Ginger was toiling like a 
 thing possessed. The sweat ran out of his red hair and 
 down his freckled face; he was naked to the waist, and 
 beads of sweat formed on his lean body and ran in
 
 THE FINDING OF THE GOLD-CLAIM 109 
 
 trickles to his belt. Suddenly he stooped, grabbed a 
 handful of sand and gravel from the bottom of the hole 
 looked at it, and yelled 
 
 "Th' luck av' th' Oirish sorr, OiVe struck ut." 
 
 One glance McGlusky gave at the handful of moist 
 gravel, then his stern old face beamed. 
 
 "Wee mannie, ye've struck watter a'right, y're no 
 alway sic a fule as ye look." 
 
 " Cut out th' compliments, sorr, an' let me get on 
 wid me digging" grinned the Irish youth. 
 
 They all set to work with renewed vigour, and soon 
 the others got into moist gravel, but there was no rush 
 of the precious fluid ; drop by drop it sweated its way 
 through the sides of the holes excavated, for it was 
 only rainwater that had sunk in the bed of the creek 
 beyond the reach of the sun's rays, all that had lain 
 near the surface had evaporated in the summer heat. 
 As soon as a wee drop accumulated in the bottom of a 
 hole it was scooped up in a pannikin and placed in a 
 bucket and the half-maddened horses scenting this, 
 made frantic efforts to get to it, and that kept the 
 Sergeant busy. It took them hours to collect a couple 
 of bucketsful, and then McGlusky unfolded the plan 
 he had hatched during the night march. 
 
 " We came nigh bein' beaten, buckies," he remarked, 
 " and most o' those who started f r th' new rush wi' us 
 air in as bad case, an' no doot some are worse off. Gie 
 th' watter ye've collectit ta my horse, an' fill my water- 
 bag, an' A'll ride on alone, an' peg oot one claim 
 good or bad we'll share it between us. All gie Snowey 
 th' bearin's o 1 th' new ground, an' he's a bushman, 
 he'll lead ye ta me when ye've collected watter enough
 
 110 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 ta put life into y'r beasties." He paused, then : " Wha 
 dae ye theenk o' ma plan ? " 
 
 " No one's goin* ter do any thinkin' about it," snapped 
 Snowey, "you're our leader, give your orders." 
 
 'That's the way to talk, Snowey," cried the 
 Sergeant. 
 
 " Well," jeered Ginger, " Oi ain't raisin 1 a revolution, 
 an' Butterfly, he's non-com-pos-mend-us, or near it.'' 
 
 "Where did you get your Latin, kid?" chuckled 
 Snowi v. 
 
 " Me ? Oi found ut on a medicine bottle in France. 
 What's wrong wid ut, eh ? " 
 
 They gave all their store of water to the veteran's 
 horse, and filled his canvas bag from what they had 
 left in their own bags, and he rode away. 
 
 "Och, we'll have one claim between us, anyway," 
 chuckled Ginger. 
 
 " Sure thing," agreed the Sharpshooter, " or there'll 
 be daisies growin' on some one's grave in that direction 
 after th' next rain." 
 
 " Oi hope he don't meet Mister Rooney till Oi gt-t 
 there," sighed Ginger. "Oi want ter see what Rooney 
 looks like before he's buried." 
 
 " Perhaps Rooney won't fight," suggested the 
 Sergeant. 
 
 Hedad if he don't there'll be an illigant fut race. 
 An' a fut race wid th' Auld Timer in it, an' him hungry 
 f r a scrap, will be worth watchin' ; he can run like a 
 cock emu, auld as he is. There's interesting tii:i - 
 ahead f r Mr. Rooney." 
 
 "That chap will throw a gun if he's cornered, law or 
 no law," ventured the Englishman.
 
 THE FINDING OF THE GOLD-CLAIM 111 
 
 "So will I," murmured Snowey. "You see it's 
 different since the war ; we never touched ' guns ' in 
 the old days, leastways, not often, but the gun habit 
 has got hold of about three hundred thousand chaps 
 who have had four years of war, so if Mr. Rooney 
 fondles a shootin'-iron, as he did all the time he was 
 cheekin' us from his camel, he's not goin' ter get no 
 start on me he's bad." 
 
 " Oi think he's a four flusher." 
 
 " Wrong, kid, he's a killer : I read it in his eyes 
 durin' our parley, he was itchin 1 ter kill then, but he 
 reckoned the odds was too big." 
 
 The Sergeant nodded his acquiescence, then remarked : 
 " Think he's Australian, Snowey, eh ? " 
 
 " Dunno ; he's bad to th' bone, wherever he comes 
 from. He's an educated scalliwag : when a bad dog 
 comes from a good kennel, it's mostly all bad." 
 
 " How did he come by th 1 name av Rooney ? He's 
 not Irish." 
 
 "Shore I dunno, Ginger, unless he found it where 
 you found your Latin. Names are easily found an 1 
 easily mislaid in the bush." 
 
 Suddenly Ginger straightened his slim figure, and the 
 look his comrades knew when all the wild devil in him 
 was roused came into his face. 
 
 "By Mary, if that scut throws a gun on me Auld 
 Timer an' gets him, Oi'll drain th' life out av him 
 drip by drip till he prays f r any kind av an endin', th' 
 jackal th' blinkin', blisterin' jackal ! " 
 
 Snowey made no answer to this fierce outburst, but 
 the keen-eyed Sergeant saw an expression dawn on the 
 usually immobile face of the Sharpshooter which made
 
 112 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 him thank his Creator that Snowey of the old An/.u - 
 was his good friend instead of an enemy, for used as he 
 was to war and all the latent ferocity that war breeds, 
 never had he seen such unrelenting menace on a human 
 face ; and warm as his own heart was towards McGlusky, 
 he could not help wondering what latent quality the 
 rough old borderer possessed to breed such worship. 
 Often he had heard it said of the three comrades : 
 " If you cut the finger of one, the other two bleed," and 
 he knew now that the saying was true. 
 
 The old pioneer rode upon his quest, not hurriedly 
 as a novice might have done, but steadily with a kind 
 of relentless calmness characteristic of his nature. The 
 horse he rode he had selected with the greatest care on 
 one of the breeding stations. 
 
 " A'm no' wantin' a racehorse," he had said to the 
 man in charge, " an* A'm no seekin' something ta ride in 
 a circus where looks count. A want something no' too 
 old an' no' too young, something wi' a drop o 1 good 
 blood in it, a real horse tha' can gallop a bit, jump a 
 bit, an* * stay "* till fish grow feathers." 
 
 They had shown him many, and he had passed all by 
 until he saw a well-sinker handling his own private 
 hack, and he had bought it, paying a price for it that 
 made his comrades stare, and he paid it without 
 haggling, simply remarking 
 
 " A ken weel when AVe found a bargain." 
 
 The well-sinker had pouched the money, remarking : 
 vt Well, mate, I don't know, an' I don't care what your 
 game is, but if you ever feel like tryin 1 your hand bush- 
 ranging, you've got the horse for the job." 
 
 When he had ridden a few miles, the old bushman
 
 THE FINDING OF THE GOLD-CLAIM 113 
 
 dismounted, loosed his girths and throwing the bridle 
 over his arm, walked off at a pace that simply devoured 
 distance, and when he felt his powers begin to flag he 
 cinched up his girths and swinging to saddle, rode on. 
 The line he had taken was practically straight through 
 the salt-bush plain spread round him like a waveless sea. 
 Most men would have zigzagged in their course, but he 
 had the instinct of a homing bird, seeming to have the 
 power to make a mental line and follow it, a gift all 
 Australian blacks have, but very few white men. He 
 did not give a thought to the camp he had left, for he 
 knew Snowey, and was aware that his lieutenant would 
 see the outfit through any trouble that might arise, 
 and there was plenty in store for the outfit. 
 
 After McGlusky had departed the men collected the 
 water pannikin by pannikin, and as soon as enough^for 
 a drink was stored, one of the horses had it, but' it was 
 dreadfully slow and trying work, but patience^and 
 perseverance is the law of the bush, and at last] the 
 animals had had sufficient drink to enable them to 
 feed. 
 
 " Glory be ! " growled Ginger as the last beast was 
 forced away from the creek on to the plain, " ut's meself 
 knows th' value av water now." 
 
 " Come an' feed, son, then we'll start collecting f r 
 th' next drink ; we'll have to keep at it pretty near all 
 th' time, then perhaps well be able ter start on th 1 Old 
 Sportsman's trail to-morrow morning." 
 
 " Och, you'll have ter have some sleep, Snowey ; 
 me an' th' Sergeant have detailed ourselves fr this 
 job." 
 
 " Can do with a wink or two, that's a fact, son." 
 i
 
 114 McGLUSKY THE GOLD SEEKER 
 
 ( >i'm not bu.stin' \\ id wakefulness meself, pal, but 
 you've done more than y'r share, an' a wire fence is th' 
 only thing Oi know that can do wielout sleep." 
 
 They found Butterfly much better after his good 
 long rest. 
 
 " I shore feel as mean as the man that tried to feed 
 his hogs on Gospel tracts left by th' missionary," was 
 the Yankee's greeting. 
 
 "Why, chum ?" smiled the Sergeant. 
 
 " Lyin' here on a bed o' roses while you chaps have 
 been workin'." 
 
 "Och, don't you place none av thim same H>M-S 
 on my grave, Yank, if Oi go after me harp an' crown 
 through overwork." 
 
 Ginger's cheerful grin illuminated his remarks. 
 
 "Don't you worry about us overworking mate." 
 supplemented Snowey, " we've only been lyin' down 
 by three holes watchin* the water pour in like a 
 a cataract." 
 
 " No immediate danger of a flood, I hope, Snowt \ .- " 
 
 "Divil a danger, Butterfly," giggled Ginger, " th' 
 water came tearin 1 an' poundin' into thim holes at the 
 rate av wan precious drop a minute when th' flood 
 was at its worst ; it didn't bust me arithmetic tcr 
 count th' drops as they fell." 
 
 The Sergeant made Snowey stretch himself out on a 
 blanket and vowed faithfully to wake him up in an 
 hour. Then he and Ginger went to work again at the 
 water-holes. 
 
 " Ye said ye'd wake him in an hour," chuckled 
 Ginger, when the fourth bucket was full. 
 
 "Yes, but I didn't say what hour, lad."
 
 THE FINDING OF THE GOLD-CLAIM 115 
 
 " Good f r yez, Sergeant, y're comin' on in y'r 
 diplomacy." 
 
 How long the two friendly conspirators would have 
 let the Sharpshooter sleep is beyond guessing. The 
 awakening came with the arrival of a party of belated 
 prospectors with famished horses. 
 
 Snowey leapt off his blanket, and buckled on his 
 guns, as he ran to the water-holes. Ginger and the 
 Sergeant were standing protectingly over the buckets 
 they had filled, angry men and famished, crazy 
 horses all round them. As Snowey arrived, a man 
 snarled 
 
 " Damn you, you shan't hog all that water, we'll 
 have some of it." 
 
 The Sergeant snapped out an oath. " Not on your 
 life ; we dug it and drained it." 
 
 With a quick, cool movement Snowey was inside the 
 angry circle, and alongside his comrades. 
 
 " What's th' trouble, boys ? " 
 
 " A peck an 1 a half, an' some over f r bakin'," snarled 
 Ginger. 
 
 " We want a share of this water, an' we're goin' to 
 have it, that's the trouble," stormed a prospector. 
 
 " Quite right too, mate." 
 
 Snowey's cool reply steadied the crowd. 
 
 " Glad you-'ve got some sense, 11 came from the other 
 side. 
 
 " Me ? " said Snowey. " Shore I have, sense is my 
 strong suit. What did you want to rush our camp 
 for? 11 
 
 " We want that water. 11 
 
 Butterfly came limping on the scene, and Suowey
 
 116 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 noticed the Yankee had strapped on his guns. Neither 
 Ginger nor the Sergeant were armed ; their weapons 
 were in camp. Snowey passed a gun to Ginger, and 
 ButterHy slid one into the Englishman's hand. 
 
 " You can't scare us with gun play." 
 
 The Sharpshooter gazed at the speaker, who stood in 
 the full glare of the moonlight. 
 
 " We ain't that kind " Snowey 's voice was low 
 and level "but if you rush us, we'll shoot" Hands 
 dropped to hips all round the circle, a false move would 
 have spelt a tragedy. " Play the game square, bovs : 
 \se found this creek an' prospected it, an 1 found th' 
 fluid ; our horses ain't had a square drink yet ; when 
 they have, we're pushin' on, an' you can have these 
 holes, or you can sink a few feet in th' gravel an" 1 get 
 water as we did : you don't get any of this." 
 
 He lifted one foot and put it on the edge of the 
 bucket nearest him, and his mates followed his example. 
 
 " Will you sell the water 
 
 " No if there's a man in your crowd who has none 
 for his own use, let him come an' drink out o' this 
 bucket that is prospectin' law, but our horses before 
 your-." 
 
 They said they all had water for their own thir>t. 
 enough at least for a feu hours, all except one youth. 
 
 "I'm baked dry, my water bag sprung a leak," lie 
 explained. 
 
 " Come an' drink." Snowey 's voice was harsh with 
 the tension of the moment. 
 
 The youth knelt to drink, then he looked up into 
 Snowey 's face. 
 
 "My horse," he gasped, "he's my blinkin' pal
 
 THE FINDING OF THE GOLD-CLAIM 117 
 
 he's dead licked let me put my drink in my hat an 1 
 give it to my horse." 
 
 Perhaps it was the moonlight playing tricks with 
 Snowey's face perhaps, but all who looked at him then 
 saw his face grow soft as a woman's. 
 
 " All right, bring your horse." 11 
 
 The youth rose and went, and in a second or two 
 returned with what looked like a pony to Ginger, 
 but Snowey knew the sort, half Timor pony, half 
 thoroughbred. 
 
 " Slip her bridle." 
 
 The youth obeyed, and Snowey lifted the brimming 
 bucket and held it to the mare's muzzle. She drank 
 greedily, drank until the bucket was drained, and her 
 owner turned to lead her away, but the Sergeant's 
 strong right hand fell on his shoulder. 
 
 " Your turn now, mate by God, you're a man. 1 ' 
 
 The Englishman with kindly force bent the young 
 bushman to his knees beside the nearest bucket, and 
 the spent man drank so greedily that Ginger cried 
 
 " Bedad, Snowey, if yez don't stop him, hell he'll 
 bu'st his corphasargus member entoirely. 11 
 
 "His what?" 
 
 "Och, ut's Latin fr about thirty fate av works 
 inside him, an 1 an 1 he'll bust th 1 whole outfit. 11 
 
 The young fellow rose, and after drawing his forearm 
 across his mouth, laid his bronzed cheek against his 
 mare's jowl, then he turned to the Sharpshooter, and 
 his voice was badly broken as he tried to utter his 
 thanks. 
 
 " My mare my pal I I " 
 
 Get out of it, or I'll pass you one."
 
 118 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 That was what the grim fighter said, but the wjitcl. 
 noticed that it was he who led the little mare to a spot 
 where the grass grew thickest. 
 
 \Vith one accord the whole of the newly arrived gold- 
 seekers turned to their packs, and producing shovels 
 began to dig holes in the creek for water, and Ginger 
 bossed the job, and gave them advice as if he had 1 
 a well-sinker all his life. At first they took him 
 seriously and started to follow his advice, but in the 
 end a prospector with silver streaks in his beard, said 
 with a good-natured grin 
 
 " Look here, copper-top, you sit on the bank and 
 pray fr rain, or or sing for it, an' let us do the digging 
 in our own way. Your ideas might be all right for 
 enlargin' th' Panama Canal, but they're a bit too 
 scientific fr prospectin' purposes. 1 ' 
 
 "All he knows about the game he learnt in this 
 creek a few hours ago," chortled the Yankee. 
 
 " Och, an' ut's yerself that's a liar, Butterfly. Wasn't 
 Oi camped by th' side av th' Sooez Canal wid th' 
 Anzacs, an 1 didn't Oi learn all about ut, an' how ut 
 was dug ? " 
 
 " Who filled you ter overflowin' with that precious 
 knowledge, son?" 
 
 " A haythin nigger that got a livin' tellin' fortunes 
 by lukin' into a bit av crystal ; he said Oi was a born 
 :neer, an' wud live ter give orders an 1 have men 
 worrukin 1 under me an' that's come true, anvuay, 
 Butterfly, f r Oi'm on th' bank an' thim blighters are 
 diggin' holes in th' bed below. Oi belave in cr\ 
 gazin', Oi do." 
 
 "Shore thing you do," murmured Snowt-v, who had
 
 THE FINDING OF THE GOLD-CLAIM 119 
 
 come on the scene ; " you'd believe in anything that 
 would encourage you to loaf. I've been crystal-gazin', 
 Ginger, an' my crystal tells me it's time fr you to 
 round up those horses an' help ter get a move on." 
 
 The crowd parted with them good-naturedly when 
 they made their start, and Snowey had no difficulty in 
 steering the course the old bush man had mapped out 
 for him, though it puzzled the others to know how he 
 could find signs to guide him on that unbroken expanse 
 of slate-grey bush that rose no higher than a horse's 
 hocks, and looked as featureless as a whitewashed wall, 
 but the bushman's instinct was strongly developed in 
 the Sharpshooter, and things hidden from the others 
 were plain to him. 
 
 In the meantime, McGlusky had been walking 
 furiously and riding cannily, taking a terrific lot out of 
 himself, but sparing his horse as much as possible. A 
 dreamer and a visionary he might be by the camp fire, 
 but on a quest like this he was the man of action 
 personified, with every faculty concentrated on the job 
 in hand. He talked to his horse as if it were a human 
 being, and if the animal did not understand the words, 
 the sound of the master's voice cheered the brave brute, 
 and acted better than whip or spur, for between some 
 horses and some men exists the magic of affinity, though 
 often the horse is the nobler brute. Once after a stiff' 
 burst McGlusky ran his hand along the sweating neck 
 of his equine comrade, and said 
 
 " Y're a gran' pal ; ye dinna ken why A'm takin' it 
 oot o' ye like this, but if ye win it means oats an' hay 
 fr ye, an' maybe a gran' grass meadow ter kick y'r 
 heels in a' y'r days. A'll share fair wi' ye, f r ye air a
 
 120 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 gran' l>eastie, an' that's nuiir tlian A cud say f'r many 
 a man A've trekked wi' wi'oot strainin' th' back 
 button off th' breeks o f truth." 
 
 Once when the light was very bad, the horse trod on 
 the thin crust of earth under which a wombat had 
 burrowed. McGlusky was cantering along at the time, 
 and being weary with his hard work, lie was sitting 
 loosely in the saddle, his reins slack, his pipe in full 
 blast, his eyes fixed on a guiding star. The hoi 
 hoof crashed through the thin crust, the leg sank to the 
 knee, and the brute turned a somersault, landing the 
 big man on his head a yard or two in advance. For a 
 second or two he lay stunned, a grotesque figure amid 
 the bushes, then he rose and shook himself like a 
 Newfoundland dog emerging from the water. 
 
 " A'm no' hurtit, thank th' old grey gods, leasb 
 A canna hear any broken bones rattle ; it wad ha' been 
 waesome eef A'd had ta carry on wi' a broken leg, A'd 
 no' ha' been able ta dae justice ta ma mates, an' they 
 trustit ma. Jamie de McGlusky, ye've no' leeved up 
 ta y'r new nobeelity, y're no* fit ta be a Chevalier o' 
 Eetaly." 
 
 He went to the frightened horse and gentled it, and 
 it was characteristic of him that he did not lay the 
 blame of the bad blunder on the horse as so many men 
 would have done, but shouldered the responsibility with 
 stubborn justice. 
 
 " It were ma ain fault ; dinna sweat an' tremble ; 
 A'm no" 1 sic" a pariah as ta jerk y'r mouth or diij a spur 
 in y"r flanks. A should ha' kep' a tight han' on ma 
 reins an' yin eye on ma star an 1 yin on th' plain, an' 
 A've got off wi' naething worse than a broken pipe-
 
 THE FINDING OF THE GOLD-CLAIM 121 
 
 stem an' a loomp on ma crown as big as a bun. Weel, 
 weel, wha' AVe lost in th'Tpipe-stem, AVe made up in 
 th' lump miner ma hat. Steady, ma beastie, everything 
 in life is mixed wi' marcy." 
 
 He went his way, toiling and struggling, and it was 
 a grim, dirty figure of a man and a badly-knocked-up 
 horse that at last reached the " gold-ground." His 
 first care was to water his horse and hobble it out to 
 pick its food, then he ranged his eyes over the new find. 
 
 " A've no' done sae bad. Maist o' them here afore 
 ma are camel-men, an 1 no' sae many o' them. Th' 
 place will be a human ant-hill th' morn's morn, or A'm 
 a fule." 
 
 The new find was in a shallow valley. Possibly a 
 score of claims had been pegged out, each man pegging 
 his fifty feet square, with the exception of the original 
 finders who had their reward claim. A few tents were 
 up, and one drinking-shanty made from boughs cut 
 from a small belt of scrub timber close by. A number 
 of camels and a few horses were grazing not far off*. 
 In front of one tent a rough sign read "Water sold 
 here." In front of another McGlusky read " General 
 Store." He knew from that sign that the original 
 finders of the ground had sold information to some 
 big merchant, who had promptly packed out stores on 
 fast camels lightly laden, stores that would be sold at a 
 vast increase on their township prices. 
 
 He went to the store, bought a pick and shovel, and 
 an axe, and made a few canny inquiries concerning the 
 run of the gold, and was moving away when the store- 
 keeper who had been sizing him up with shrewd eyes, 
 said
 
 122 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 ' Want a grubstake, mate ? If you do, Til fix you 
 up for a third of the claim you peg." 
 
 "A'm thankin' ve, but A'm no' needin' it, A'm no' 
 broke." 
 
 " All right, mate, no harm done, eh ? Thought I'd 
 ask : you don't look like a new chum at the game, and 
 I like the old stock myself." 
 
 " Na harm at a', man ; if A was broke A'd be glad o' 
 a decent storekeeper's back in'. A've had it afore, an' 
 may want it again." 
 
 " Well, good luck ! " 
 
 Th' best o' it ta yersel', storekeeper, an" say, if ma 
 mates ca' here, an 1 they wull, tell them A'll Hy th' 
 Tiger flag ower ma claim so's they'll ken where ta look 
 fr me ; ma mate's called Snowey, he'll be in charge o' 
 ma outfit." 
 
 " Right. What's your name ? " 
 
 " Jamie de McGlusky, but ye can drop th' ' de ' fr 
 th' present, it's a wee bit handle A picked up ta ma 
 name in Eetaly." 
 
 The storekeeper stared at the rough, uncouth, dirty 
 figure. 
 
 " Not McGlusky of Gallipoli ? " 
 
 " A were there." 
 
 " Is your mate Snowey the Anzac Sharpshooter ? " 
 
 "He is, an' ma A ask eef he's owin' ye anything?" 
 The old bushman's hand \va^ at his money poucli as he 
 s|X)ki'. "A ken weel," continued he, "ma mate 
 Snowey had a run o' bad luck afore he went ta th' 
 uar, so eef it's a matter o' siller, storekeeper hoo 
 much?" 
 
 ' Never saw him, but I'll be damiied glad to do
 
 THE FINDING OF THE GOLD-CLAIM 123 
 
 anything for him or you either; I've read McGhiskys 
 Great Adventure. Is Ginger alive ? " 
 
 " He was when A left him wi' th' rest o' ma outfit, 
 verra much alive is ma wee mannie." 
 
 The storekeeper came very close and whispered in 
 the veteran's ear 
 
 " I know all about you and your pals, I've read all 
 the books written about you." 
 
 " Hae ye ? Weel, if ye meet th' man who wrote 
 'em, you tell th' buckie A'll kick him in th' wame eef 
 A come across him, f'r puttin' ma in a buk, th' scut." 
 
 " Look here, McGlusky, I'll tell you what I wouldn't 
 tell my own mother." 
 
 "Eef it's anything no' decent " began the big 
 
 man. 
 
 " Shut up and listen. Don't bother to peg out in 
 this valley ; go right up to the western end, and a mile 
 from here you'll find a little valley branching off. 
 There's only one claim pegged there, an' I'm grub- 
 stakin' th' pegger. You get a move on an' collar th' 
 ground above, it's rich." 
 
 " A'll no' fergit ye if ye're telling me th' truth an' 
 A get on ter th' metal an', man, A'll no' fergit ye if 
 y're lyin' an' put me on to a duffer." He put both 
 his big hands on to the storekeeper's shoulders and 
 peered into the man's eyes like some old watch-dog on 
 a chain taking the measure of a stranger. " A'm th' 
 advance guard, trustit by ma mates ; eef ye've fuled 
 ma, losh, buckie, th' day we meet ye'll wish y'r mither 
 had never wedded, f r, by ma old grey gods, A'll no' 
 leave enough o' ye in one piece f'r a mosquito ta nest 
 in an' bring up a family. A'm no' a man o' strife, ye
 
 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 ken, but A've ta redeem a trust placed in nia by ma 
 mates, (iin ye want ta withdraw wha' ye .said about 
 th' ground in th' little valley, dae it noo, an 1 an' A '11 
 onlv hit ye yince Fr luck." 
 
 The storekeeper laughed. 
 
 \Yithdraw nothing not a blinkin' word; we owe 
 you chaps too much to fool your sort. Why, mate, 
 McGlusky, Snowey an 1 Ginger an' all your sort made 
 fame enough for us to keep us cool in hell." 
 
 Wool, weel, A'm weeshin' ye a" 1 th" 1 comforts o" 1 a 
 hame when ye get there," purred McGlasky, and strode 
 off to peg his ground, and even amongst the tough, 
 hard-bitten prospectors whom he passed, the splendid 
 energy and tireless might of his body and his movements 
 were not unremarked. 
 
 The sun was setting when he turned into the small 
 valley, and he noticed with pleasure that only one tent 
 stood there, and one claim was pegged. Just before 
 he reached the tent he saw a horse feeding amid the 
 bushes. He gave the animal a casual glance at first, 
 and then paused and looked keenly at it. Then he 
 whistled a lonjr, low, unmelodious note. 
 
 Weel, A'm dommed, Jamie de McGlusky, ma' y'r 
 
 next crop o' whuskers grow all on th" 1 yeenside, which 
 
 wad no' be a pleasure fr ye or th" 1 whuskers, 
 
 no' been beat at yV ain game, an' by a 
 
 wumman." 
 
 He was correct in his surmise, for the horse he 
 looked at was Maida Lamarde's, and the claim and 
 tent in the small valley were hers. She came out of 
 her tent at the sound of his approaching footsteps, and 
 he noticed what he had never before seen on an Australian
 
 THE FINDING OF THE GOLD-CLAIM 125 
 
 girl or woman a most useful-looking gun strapped 
 round her waist. 
 
 When she saw who the newcomer was, her face lit 
 up with pleasure and relief, but only for a moment did 
 the expression last ; a second afterwards it had vanished, 
 and she appeared the same cool, self-possessed young 
 woman he had previously known. She was the first to 
 speak 
 
 " You have come in good time, Mr. McGlusky." 
 
 He could not hide his chagrin. 
 
 " No' so soon, since a lass cud beat ma.' 1 
 
 " I did not beat you, it was my mare." 
 
 "Ma ain horse were good enough fr anything, ye 
 need no 1 blame ma beastie." 
 
 " I knew the country, and I asked my mare a big 
 question, and she answered it. I knew by the signs 
 that a real brickfield dust-storm was coming up ; there 
 is only one direction a real brickfield can come from in 
 these parts, and I rode right across country out of its 
 track, and came in behind it, by passing round its 
 edge ; you would have done the same if you'd known 
 the district." 
 
 " Ye must ha' ridden far and fast." 
 
 " I did ; that was where the quality of my mare and 
 the stamina of my pack-mule came in." 
 
 McGlusky looked round amongst the salt-bush. 
 
 " A see y'r mare, Miss Maida, but A dinna see y'r 
 pack-mule." 
 
 " No ; it was stolen at my last camp, mule and pack, 
 all my outfit. I got the storekeeper to grubstake me 
 on shares ; he had known my parents." 
 
 " Ye dae weel to wear a gun, though A never
 
 126 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKEK 
 
 thocht ta see an Australian wumman wearin" 1 
 one." 
 
 -Why?" 
 
 " Because men who air mean enough ta loot a 
 wumman's pack-mule will no' hesitate ta jump her 
 claim if it's worth jumpin'." 
 
 " It is, but if any man sets foot inside my pegs 
 unasked, I'll shoot." The girl spoke very quietly, but 
 there was that in her manner which told McGlusky she 
 would not hesitate to make her words good if occasion 
 arose. "Are you going to peg here, or have you 
 selected your ground ? " 
 
 " A'll peg on ta y'r claim. Which end is th' best ? 
 Dae ye mind say in' ? " 
 
 "The top end." Maida intimated where she meant 
 by a movement of her hand. " Of course," she added, 
 " I have only surface indications to go by, but I took a 
 dish of dirt from each corner and got the best results 
 from the top end." 
 
 " Ye've been dry blowin', eh, Miss ? " 
 
 " Yes, we'll all have to do that, there's no water to 
 wash the dirt, the only spring near here is claimed by 
 the man who is selling water in the main camp, he 
 -unk a well on the spring, and charges a reasonable 
 price for the water." 
 
 " A'm theenkin' na one will dispute his right ta it 
 if he sells fair and does no' charge too high a price ; if 
 lu- does, he'll maybe strike trouble." 
 
 McCilusky had been working whilst he talked. He 
 put in a peg close to Mania's, and dug two trenches at 
 right angles nine inches deep, then drawing from his 
 pcu-ket a small revolving tape-measure such as surveyors
 
 THE FINDING OF THE GOLD-CLAIM ^ 127 
 
 carry, he very carefully measured off his fifty-feet 
 square, and put in all his pegs and dug right-angle 
 trenches, and affixed his papers to each peg. 
 
 "There," he grunted with a sigh of relief, as he 
 tossed down pick and shovel in the centre, " noo A've 
 done a' tha' a man cud dae ; this belongs ta me an' 
 ma mates, an' A'd like ta see th' buckie tha' wad try 
 ta lay han' or fut on it." 
 
 " Do you always measure your ground like that, 
 Mr. McGlusky?" 
 
 "When A'm no 1 pushed fr time, A dae, it saves 
 trouble when skunks come round swearin' ye've mair 
 than y'r fair share, but if it's a race between me an' 
 some ithers, A just drive in my pegs an' settle th' 
 measurin' later on." 
 
 "I haven't measured mine, I just 'stepped it'; you 
 see, I hadn't a tape measure, I never thought of one." 
 
 " Better measure now ; A'll hold th' tape against 
 my pegs, an' ye run off th' distance. Ye dinna want a 
 fuss later when th' mob comes ; they'll run th' rule 
 over y'r ground, an' if it's rich they'll make trouble if 
 ye've an inch too much ; dinna gie th' jumpers a wee 
 bittie o' an excuse, they'll hang an action at law on a 
 square inch o' soil, an' hang th' whole claim up an' 
 perhaps win it." 
 
 They measured, and found Maida had a good yard 
 too much ground, so they shifted the two outer pegs in 
 by three feet, and the girl's ground was secure. 
 
 " Noo," remarked the old bushman, " A'll gang to 
 yon trees wi' ma axe an' cut th' longest A can get Fr a 
 flagstaff; A want a sign ta guide ma mates when they 
 reach th' rush."
 
 128 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 He was soon back with a ten-foot pole, to which he 
 proceeded to attach his shirt by simply tying the 
 sleeves to the pole. Having done this, he hoisted his 
 peculiar banner in the centre of his claim. 
 
 " Yon garment is striped black an' yellow. A bought 
 it in Padua, in Italy ; when Snowey sees it he wull ken 
 it richt enough. He called it ma tiger shirt, an 1 by th' 
 thustles A planted on ma mither's grave, yon banner 
 shall gie oor claim its name."" 
 
 " What a funny name for a gold - claim, Mr. 
 McGlusky." 
 
 " A dinna see anything funny in it ava." 
 
 Maida smiled. 
 
 " Well, the the shirt seems a queer name to me/ 1 
 
 " Hoots, lassie, it's th' colour an 1 th' markin' A'm 
 theenkin' o', no 1 th' use A made o' wha' is now oor 
 banner. Yellow an' black, th' tiger's marks. All call 
 oor claim th' Tiger Claim, an 1 the buckie who meddles 
 wi' it wull find it's no' sa badly christened." 
 
 " What are you going to do for a tent and blankets, 
 sir?" 
 
 Mac pointed to the hard, brown earth. "There's 
 ma tent an' blankets, lassie, till ma mates come." 
 
 " What are you going to do for food ? " 
 
 "Mar" 1 There was a touch of impatience in the 
 veteran's voice, as if he thought such questioning 
 foolish. " A've a chunk o' cheese an' some biscuits in 
 ma coat pockets, an' A've ma pipe th' stem's verra 
 short, but it wull serve ; eef yell gie ma a sup o' watter 
 All ha' a feast fit f r a king." 
 
 Muida brought out the water and a blanket, but 
 he refused the latter. The girl stood and watched
 
 THE FINDING OF THE GOLD-CLAIM 129 
 
 him eat his frugal meal, then : " Good-night," said 
 she. 
 
 " Good-nicht, an 1 eef any one comes roon', just gie ma 
 a cry, an' All dae ma best ta make this spot a wee 
 bittie unpopular.' 1 
 
 " Thanks, I will if I need you ; but I've my stag- 
 hound tied up inside my tent, and I've this." She 
 laid a hand on the gun at her hip as she spoke. 
 
 " Yell dae," he answered gruffly ; "yell mak' good." 
 
 When the girl had gone, Mac took off his boots, 
 wrapped them in his coat for a pillow, lit his pipe, and 
 stretched his great loose limbs at ease on the warm 
 hard earth with a sigh of unutterable content. 
 
 " A wad no 1 change places wi' th' King in Bucking- 
 ham Palace," he murmured. " A've all that th 1 heart 
 o' a man cud crave for a bit o' th' soil tha' bred ma 
 ta lie on, an' forty million stars, mair or less, ta look 
 it ; ma tobacco tastes sweet in ma mouth, A've a good 
 job weel done ahint ma, an' anither full o' expectations 
 an' adventure afore ma. Jamie de McGlusky, th' old 
 grey gods o' oor fathers ha' been gude ta ye in th' 
 autumn o' y'r days ; eef A cud only hear th' voice o' 
 th' wee de'il Ginger singin' o' th' love o' wummin, 
 which th' blastie never felt in earnest, though he's 
 always practisin' an' makin' believe, A'd be as proud as 
 Bill Kaiser was afore we gie'd him th' boot."
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE TIGE GOLD-CLAIM 
 
 THE day after McGlusky pegged his claim, the store- 
 keeper who was grubstaking Maida Lamarde came out 
 with a supply of stores on a couple of camels. When 
 he had given the girl her quota, he said 
 
 " I've stuff here for sale, McGlusky, and unless your 
 mates are packing out supplies, you'd better buy what 
 you want now, and, what's more, you'd better let me 
 fix up a contract with the man at the spring, so as to 
 make sure of water ; a cyclist has just come in, and he 
 reports a young army of prospectors hurrying here." 
 
 " Tha' sounds like sense ta me ; ye can unload wha' 
 ye've got on ma claim, an' A'll pay ye." 
 
 This was soon done, and the storekeeper went off, 
 promising to bring a tent and camp requisites as soon 
 as possible. When he had gone, Maida asked the 
 veteran where his horse was. 
 
 " A gie'd th' beastie as much watter as it cud drink, 
 an' turned it out ta graze, an* A canna gang ta look f r 
 it some one might try ta jump th' * Tiger ' in ma 
 absence.'" 
 
 " That's not diggers' law, if you're only away from 
 your claim for an hour or two." 
 
 " Ye ken a' aboot diggers' law, ma lass, seein' ye 
 were raised by an old digger ; but, ma wench, they'll 
 
 130
 
 THE TIGER GOLD-CLAIM 131 
 
 care de'il an' a 1 aboot law when th 1 mob arrives an 1 
 begins peggin 1 in earnest. Ma horse will have ta put 
 up vvi 1 short commons till ma mates arrive."" 
 
 " I know your horse, and can pick it out of a 
 thousand ; if you care to keep an eye on my claim, 111 
 put the saddle on my mare and round your horse in ; 
 it can drink here with mine until the man at the well 
 brings your water out." 
 
 "Lassie, yeVe 'some* sense. A dinna care f'r a 
 wumman on her lonesome on a gold-rush ; it dinna 
 seem richt ta ma, but y're no' all a fule." 
 
 The girl looked at him under her bent brows for a 
 moment, then smiled. 
 
 "I don't think paying compliments is your strong 
 suit, is it ? " she asked. 
 
 "Ma? Oh, A dinna often mak' pretty speeches 
 like tha' one ; A'm generally a wee bittie blunt an' 
 ower plain-spoken. Eef ye care ta gang after ma horse, 
 A'll look after y'r bit claim ; it will be here when ye 
 return. Noo A'm goin' ta begin diggin' on th' 
 'Tiger.'" 
 
 He lifted his pick as he spoke, but Maida Lamarde 
 still loitered. 
 
 "Mr. McGlusky " 
 
 " Wha's bitin' ye th' noo, lass ? " 
 
 "You are." 
 
 " I didna ken it ; tell ma hoo ? " 
 
 " When you first met me at my mother's place, you 
 were ready to make friends with me." 
 
 "Weel?" 
 
 " I liked you from the first, sir ; you looked so so 
 dependable."
 
 132 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 "Weel?" 
 
 McGlusky lifted his shaggy head as he uttered his 
 non-committal syllable, and the strangely assorted pair 
 gazed at each other. 
 
 " You are not friendly to me now ; if I were a man 
 you would not have me in your party." 
 
 "A wad not." 
 
 " Why ? " 
 
 The girl's voice rang out in splendid challenge. 
 
 "A'm reservin' ma judgment." 
 
 " No ; you have judged." 
 
 \Vith those words Maida Lamarde turned and walked 
 towards her horse, and McGlusky drove his pick into 
 "The Tiger." He did not see her saddle her mare and 
 ride away; he never glanced in her direction he just 
 wrought on with pick and shovel until the sweat poured 
 off him. 
 
 " How's the luck, mate ? " 
 
 McGlusky looked up at the question, and saw three 
 men standing on his claim. 
 
 "A'm no" 1 knowin', AVe no" 1 sampled her yet, A'm 
 just rootin" 1 round a bit ; maybe she's good, maybe she's 
 a duffer, All ken mair in a few hours. 1 ' 
 
 " Just started on her, eh ? " 
 
 " If ye used y'r eyes instead o" yV mouth, ye'd see f r 
 yersel'." 
 
 One of the trio spoke to the man who had questioned 
 the old bushman. 
 
 "Take your boots off, Possum, can't you see thi 
 holy ground, and no blinkin" 1 questions permitted ? " 
 
 The fellow called " Possum " sniggered, then pointing 
 to the " Tiger " banner, he queried
 
 THE TIGER GOLD-CLAIM 133 
 
 " What's that for, mate ? Are you goin' ter take in 
 washin' ? Goin' ter start a laundry, eh ? " 
 
 " No," cooed McGlusky, " A hung that up there ta 
 gie fules something ta ask questions aboot." 
 
 He went on digging. 
 
 " Who owns this claim next to you ? " demanded 
 Possum. 
 
 " Can ye no' read ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Weel, th' name's on yon peg read it." 
 
 Possum sauntered in the direction indicated, and 
 read the name : " Maida Lamarde, Miner's right, 
 number 674986." 
 
 " A blinkin' woman." 
 
 This came from one of the pair on McGlusky's 
 claim. 
 
 "It's a plant," said the third man, "this chap is 
 holdin' up two men's ground got a mate comin' on 
 behind somewhere." 
 
 McGlusky toiled on. 
 
 Possum looked at the tent from the outside ; he also 
 noticed the stores and the tools, and he winked at his 
 cronies. 
 
 " Say, old rawbones, is this claim with the family 
 washin' flyin' over it yours?" 
 
 "This yin where A'm workin' is mine." 
 
 "Then," said Possum impressively, "this one with 
 the tent an' tools an' tucker on it is ours ; you can't 
 work off no female digger on us, and," he added with a 
 grin, " we'll claim all that's on it." 
 
 "Sure we do ; Possum's got it right," supplemented 
 one of the trio.
 
 134 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 " Go and tear off that Maida Lainarde's name from 
 them IK-I^, an' we'll peg the ground again," suggested 
 tin- third. 
 
 The old bushnmn never even hinted that he heard 
 a word; he just shovelled away at the earth. The 
 three went towards one of Maida's pegs. 
 
 licGlusky laid down his shovel, sat down by the side 
 of the hole he had been digging, pushed his big hands 
 in under his coat that was lying near, and when his 
 hands came out, each held a big ugly American revolver, 
 known to gunmen as Colts. They may have been colts, 
 but they seemed to have been well trained, and JKT- 
 fectly broken in to their work, for they went up and 
 went off without any apparent effort on McGlusky's 
 part, and two big slugs of lead whistled between Possum 
 and his friends and buried themselves in the corner peg 
 of Maida's claim. To say that Possum and his friends 
 leapt aside and leapt asunder would not do justice to 
 their motions ; they went away from each other and 
 from Maida's peg as if a very live wire had jerked 
 them. When they looked round McGlusky was gaxing 
 dreamily into space, as peaceful a looking sample of 
 humanity as ever expressed its feelings in terms of lead. 
 Seeing that Possum and his brother jackals were wide 
 of the peg, McGlusky very sedately divw out his wooden 
 pipe with its inch-long stem, lit it and smoked as 
 placidly as if his world contained no elements of trouble. 
 Possum was the first to find his tongue. 
 
 "Here, MMcr." he stormed, "what do you think 
 you're doing, eh ? " 
 
 McGlusky removed his pipe, wiped his mouth re- 
 flectively with his forearm, and then, arching his eye-
 
 THE TIGER GOLD-CLAIM 135 
 
 brows until he looked like the idol of innocence on 
 a broken pedestal, he answered 
 
 "Wha' am A daein' ? Why, buckie, A'm just 
 announcin' ma arrival on th' ' rush.' A'm advertisin' 
 ma laundry, gie'in' th' digger buckies notice A'm takin' 
 in washin'." 
 
 " If you point them guns at us, Mister, it's it's 
 attempted murder." 
 
 " Attempted ? Did ye say attempted ? " 
 
 The pioneer put such stress on the word " attempted " 
 that Possum recoiled. 
 
 " Look here, you ancient corner-stone of a lunatic 
 emporium, you can't bluff us ; I'm going to pull up 
 that peg." 
 
 It was the third individual who spoke, and he indicated 
 the peg furthest away from the one in which McGlusky 
 had planted two slugs with such consummate marksman- 
 ship. The speaker moved in the direction he had outlined. 
 
 " Dae ye mean tha' one ? " 
 
 The pioneer's voice was as soft as a summer's sigh, 
 not a trace of anger in it, but as the last words left his 
 lips, his big guns snarled venomously, and another of 
 Maida's pegs was pock-marked with lead in two places. 
 
 The fellow who had announced his determination to 
 pull up that peg, jumped backwards at the first ex- 
 plosion, and fell on his beam ends at the second, and a 
 laugh like a peal of bells rang out from the throat of 
 Maida Lamarde, who had ridden up on her mare and 
 was leading McGlusky 's horse. The fellow on the 
 ground looked round, and the pioneer said blandly 
 
 " Git oop, buckie, an' dae it all ower again ; it it 
 amuses th' lady."
 
 186 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 " What's the matter ?" 
 
 Maida's voice was full of sarcasm as she put the 
 question. 
 
 "Naething just naething," purred the big man. 
 "A were just cleanin' ma guns, that's a'. A'm 
 theenkin'," he added, " that maybe th' bit lead A put 
 in y'r pegs, Miss Maida, may help ta keep them in 
 their places, they looked a wee bit wobbly th' noo." 
 
 "I thought it was that man who looked wobbly.'' 
 laughed Maida. " I never knew why they called a 
 person who stole claims a jumper, till I saw your 
 performance when those guns went off." 
 
 She let her voice fall like a whip-lash as she added 
 her postscript, and even Possum looked a little meaner 
 than usual. 
 
 "Shootings a hangin' matter in this country." 
 
 This remark came from the fellow on the ground. 
 
 "It is." McGlusky's voice was very emphatic. " It 
 w, when there's any witnesses." 
 
 As those words left the pioneer's lips, he noticed that 
 Maida Lamarde swayed suddenly in the saddle as if 
 she had been hit, and her hands clutched fiercely at her 
 bridle rein. Instantly his thoughts flew away to that 
 night when he saw her kneeling by the body of her 
 father shot to death, and shot from behind, and his 
 gorge rose against the girl. He uplifted himself, and 
 the face he turned on the claim-jumpers was savage and 
 lowering enough to have put dread into stouter hearts 
 than rogues ever have. He spoke to them, and his 
 voice was harsh and commanding 
 
 " Yon wumman owns this claim. Get off it, an' 
 move as if y'r innards were meant f r a musical box, or
 
 THE TIGER GOLD-CLAIM 137 
 
 All boot ye till y'r breast-banes clip y'r beards. 
 There's ground below her claim, an' there's ground 
 above mine, ta be had f r th' peggin' ; eef ye want it, 
 tak' it, but eef ye set hoof or hand on her claim or 
 mine, A'll tak' y'r teeth oot an' sew 'em inta y'r 
 carcases where ye'll sit on 'em. A'll see she has her 
 richts, because she's a wumman." 
 
 Possum was the first to go, and he went on tiptoe, as 
 if he feared he might awaken something explosive, and 
 his mates went with him. 
 
 " A'm thankin' ye," was all the pioneer said, as he 
 took his horse from Maida and hobbled it out near the 
 Tiger claim. 
 
 The girl looked after him. 
 
 " I hate you." The words slipped past her lips, and 
 then she laughed, but there was no melody in her 
 laughter. 
 
 McGlusky returned to his work, and noticed as he 
 dug that Possum and his friends had taken up claims 
 a little way further up the valley. 
 
 After he had dug several shallow holes, he took his 
 shovel and beat the earth he had thrown out until he 
 reduced it to powder, then he filled a tin dish shaped 
 liked a shallow wash-basin, filled it with the pounded 
 earth, and holding the full dish high in both hands, 
 allowed the dirt in the pan to dribble slowly over the 
 edge into a second dish on the ground at his feet. As 
 the beaten earth passed from the dish in the air to the 
 dish on the ground, the wind blew a portion of the earth 
 away in fine dust, but everything heavy like gravel, 
 small stones, iron or gold, the wind could not deflect, 
 and this went into the bottom dish. In his skilful
 
 138 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 hands the process was not a long one ; he was " dry- 
 blowing," a method the resourceful Australian diggers 
 had adopted in order to get the gold out of the clay 
 when there was no water to be had for puddling, or, 
 as McGlusky once phrased it, " They put the idle winds 
 in harness an' made them do the work of watter." 
 After he had worked off all the dirt, he examined the 
 sediment left in the dish, and found a certain amount 
 of gold, but nothing that even hinted at vast wealth. 
 When he had tried out a sample from each of the holes 
 he had sunk, he stood upright in order to give his back 
 a rest, and then his eyes fell on his striped banner 
 fluttering gaily in the breeze. He was disappointed 
 with his claim prospects, and he voiced his feelings. 
 
 " A'm no" 1 sae sure AVe no" 1 been a wee bittie prema- 
 ture in namin' oor claim ; it micht hae been better 
 ta ca' it ' The Shirt, 1 an' no 1 th' Tiger, for A'm dommed 
 eef A can see any weddin' parties or cattle stations, or 
 racehorses in it sae far." 
 
 Maida Lamarde, wearing a boy's breeks over which 
 reposed a short skirt that just reached her knees, was 
 working away industriously not many yards away from 
 him, plying pick and shovel bravely. She saw by his 
 expression that he was disappointed. 
 
 " Luck not up to sample ? " she queried. 
 
 " AVe had worse, an' A've had better. Hoo's your 
 own .-" 
 
 "Not bad." 
 
 She walker! towards him and held out her dish in 
 which a fine -how of coarM- -hotty gold wa discernible. 
 
 " Ye've no cause ta complain," he muttered, handing 
 the dish back.
 
 THE TIGER GOLD-CLAIM 139 
 
 A yell rang out from up the valley, and looking in 
 that direction, they saw the gentle Possum madly tossing 
 a yellow lump in the air, and catching it dexterously. 
 
 "That man has found a nugget, and a big one, 
 Mr. McGlusky." 
 
 " Oh, aye, he has that ; weel, th' auld de'il tak's care 
 o' his ain." 
 
 "Perhaps youll strike it rich later on." 
 
 " Maybe A wull, maybe A won't ; if A dae All be 
 thankfu', if A dinna A'll no' grouse." 
 
 " You deserve a bit of luck at your time of life, sir." 
 
 McGlusky glared at the girl. 
 
 " Ma time o' life ? A'll be makin' history when yon 
 spunkless thing they ca 1 Possum is makin' a lunch f'r 
 worms. Ma time o' life ? Eef ye canna talk sense, get 
 a parrit, an 1 unbosom yersel' ta that." 
 
 He snatched up his shovel and began to make the 
 earth fly. 
 
 Maida returned to her toil, but many times she 
 glanced in the pioneer's direction, and marvelled at the 
 tireless strength of his rugged frame. 
 
 The day had well-nigh worn itself out when a 
 long-drawn coo-ee came echoing down the little valley. 
 McGlusky twisted his head in the direction of the 
 sound, and saw his party, with Snowey at the head 
 of it, riding jaded horses in a small haze of dust. 
 Maida saw them also. McGlusky stood irresolute for 
 just one instant, then he strode to the centre of his 
 claim, and stood straight and tall under his queer 
 banner. 
 
 "Och," chuckled Ginger, " th' auld [bird's pinned 
 his shirt to his luck, and Oi'm wid him, good or bad."
 
 140 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 Then his eyes fell on Maida. " Bad cess to ut, there's 
 tli" picture av bad luck up agin him. Sorra's the day 
 we ivver bumped into her." 
 
 " Don't be a beast, Ginger," snapped the Sergeant. 
 
 " Luk at her hand, luk at ut. Bedad, ufs red red 
 wid blood."" The Irish lad crossed himself swiftly. 
 " Wirra, wirra, ut's an avil omen fr wan av us."" 
 
 The whole party was gazing at Maida Lamarde, and 
 even Snowey felt there was some excuse for Ginger's 
 outburst, for the sun sinking in a haze after a hot day 
 cast a crimson shaft of light across the right hand of 
 Maida Lamarde, the hand that grasped her dry-blowing 
 dish. 
 
 When the little cavalcade passed the girl, none of 
 them stopped, except the Sergeant. The other three 
 looked at her curiously, nodded a curt greeting, and 
 went on to McGlusky. The Sergeant dismount rd 
 and held out his hand, and as Ginger saw the two 
 hands meet he snarled 
 
 " Och, thin, th' sign av blood was f'r th' Sergeant ; 
 he'll never see his little Sussex village again." 
 
 McGlusky greeted his party curtly. 
 
 " Boys, A've pegged this claim, and A've sampled it 
 on th' surface ; it's no 1 a duffer, an' sae far as A can 
 see, it's no' a vault o' th' Bank o' Englan'. Yon 
 lassie's claim's a good yin, an' a spawn o' sin called 
 Possum ower yonner ha' struck heavy gold. Noo please 
 yer ainsel's, peg next ta ma, or peg near Possum." 
 
 "Come out av this, sorr; go above th' blinkin' 
 Possum, or go below him, but shift out av this." 
 
 " Why, Ginger ? " 
 
 The lad looked at Maida.
 
 THE TIGER GOLD-CLAIM 141 
 
 "Come out av ut, sorr." 
 
 " A'll no' ; A've bit inta this bit o' brown earth, an' 
 A '11 chance ma luck." 
 
 The Sergeant joined them. 
 
 "I'll peg on to Miss Maida's claim on the other 
 side, then we'll have her between us, McGlusky." 
 
 "We'd best get a move on, boss." It was Snowey 
 who spoke. " The big valley will soon be overcrowded, 
 an' if I have any say in th' matter, we'll stick 
 together." 
 
 " Get at it then, buckies ; no man can tell where th' 
 gold is or where it isn't. In wf y'r pegs." 
 
 They worked like demons. McGlusky's axe hewed 
 pegs for them all from the timber near by, and soon 
 they were fixed legally and securely, and not a moment 
 too soon, for the great rush had arrived. Men with 
 pegs under their arms and picks on their shoulders 
 came flooding all over the place, and Ginger and the 
 Sergeant, neither of whom had ever seen a " rush 
 before, got their real baptism of gold-fever on the spot. 
 
 "Hell to pay directly, Old Sport," said Snowey in 
 his soft, lazy voice. 
 
 "Richt, buckie." McGlusky gave his orders to his 
 party : " Each man stan' on his ain claim ; dinna gae 
 aff it, na matter wha' happens, an' dinna argue ; eef 
 any man touches y'r pegs down him, an' dinna stan' 
 on ceremony hoo ye dae it. Th' law an' th' richt o' 
 it are wi' ye, fecht f r yV ain, eef ye must fecht." 
 
 It was magical to watch the speed with which the 
 old and experienced prospectors put their pegs in and 
 secured their ground. Men swarmed like ants; they 
 came into collision, pandemonium broke loose, voices in
 
 in.' MdiLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 half a dozen languages rose in raucous .shouts. Two 
 parties Mould start to peg the same piece of ground, 
 then each would try to tear the other's pegs down ; 
 short, fierce fights took place : fists, feet, pick-handles, 
 any old thing that came handy was pressed into the 
 battle. 
 
 ' Bates a Donny brook fair ter blazes, sorr," yelled 
 Ginger, whose claim was next to McGlusky's. 
 
 Snowey, whose claim was on the other side of 
 Ginger's, said 
 
 "Shut up, kid, we'll get our share directly." 
 
 "Och, will we thin r Faith, ut's ineself fr a pick- 
 handle." 
 
 He knocked the head off his pick as he spoke, and 
 his eyes blazing madly, told how the wild scene around 
 him was working on his racial instincts. 
 
 All the ground in the little valley was pegged out, 
 and held by panting, desperate men, not a few of whom 
 were bleeding. A big mob of disappointed diggers 
 came down from the far end, cursing their luck. They 
 looked ugly, and they were dangerous. 
 
 " Easy now, kid, sew yV mouth up," counselled wise 
 Snowi-y. 
 
 Like a mob of steers gone crazy, the crowd swept past 
 and charged into the main valley, intent on uprooting 
 pegs and getting hold of golden ground, but the recep- 
 tion they got from the claim-holders drove them back. 
 A >ection of the more desperate or more determined 
 rushers wheeled into the small valley again and came 
 surging down like a storm. 
 
 "Our little honeymoon now." remarked the Sharp- 
 shooter.
 
 THE TIGER GOLD-CLAIM 143 
 
 The Sergeant's claim being nearest to the rushers, he 
 was the first to strike trouble, and he met it like a lion. 
 Some one had dropped a crowbar near his ground, and 
 he had picked it up ; six feet of iron fairly sharp at one 
 end, is not a nice thing to face, when it is in the hands 
 of a man who has driven a bayonet home in many a 
 charge ; no one watching the Sergeant then would have 
 connected him with the tiny tea-shop in the little 
 Sussex village where he had been born and raised until 
 the World War hailed him forth. He was a Viking now, 
 fighting for his own hand. A burly Bulgarian, of 
 whom there are not a few in Australia, was the first 
 to feel that crowbar, and all the gold the Queen of 
 Sheba sent to Solomon would not have interested him 
 for some time later. An Italian whose hand was claw- 
 ing at the Sergeant's outer peg, got the full swing of 
 the crowbar across his brawny chest, and sank down 
 to dream of Venice, or perchance of Rome, but what- 
 ever he dreamed, he did not dream it was time to get 
 up again he'd have been a fool if he had, with that 
 raging, thrusting demon with the crowbar standing over 
 him. Gone were a thousand years of civilisation, gone 
 like mountain mists before the sun all the lessons of 
 church and school ; the gold-bug was biting, and a 
 blue-eyed Saxon was battling for the spoil his courage 
 and hardihood had so richly entitled him to. Jab 
 jab jab went the iron bar into a dozen faces. 
 
 That settled Ginger. Gone was all his supposed 
 hate of the accursed Saxon ; the call of comradeship 
 took hold of his vitals ; a wild Irish yell mingled with 
 the clangorous Saxon bellow. With a rush and a 
 whoop the imp was by the Sergeant's side, and a pick-
 
 McGLUSKY THE GOLD SEEKER 
 
 handle rose and fell in harmony with an iron bur, 
 and a number of other things fell at the .same time. 
 
 McGlusky, steady as a rock, had been surveying the 
 seme until Ginger rushed into danger. Maida Lamarde 
 was standing rigid in the middle of her fifty feet of 
 ground, her hand resting on the butt of the gun in 
 her belt. McGlusky strode to her. 
 
 " Haud yV ground, A'm wantit yonner." 
 
 " You'll lose your claim, sir." 
 
 " Ta hell wi" 1 th' claim ! A canna lose ma innercent 
 wee lamb." 1 " 
 
 Even as he spoke, his innocent wee lamb brought his 
 pick -handle down with a clever slanting stroke on the 
 neck of a fellow who had seized the Sergeant from 
 behind, and Maida Lamarde, looking at the raging, 
 tearing young Irish devil, lost much of her faith in 
 McGlusky as a true delineator of character, for if 
 Ginger possessed any innocence, he had left it at home 
 that day, or mislaid it in his hurry to join the mtlt'r, 
 as both his actions with the pick-handle and his lan- 
 guage when a man smote him down with a shovel 
 amply demonstrated. 
 
 McGlusky had been fighting like a reasonable human 
 being until Ginger went down under the instrument of 
 labour, but the scene was changed when the Irish lad 
 fell. Like a tiger the big fellow leapt on the man who 
 had dropped Ginger. The "jumper,"" a brawny Greek 
 who had followed the sea until the gold-bug bit him, 
 was no weakling and no coward. McGlusky locked his 
 arms around the Greek's waist, whirled him off his feet, 
 and giving him a heave sent him rolling out of the 
 crowd, just as Snowey and Butterfly plunged into it,
 
 THE TIGER GOLD-CLAIM 145 
 
 Butterfly laughing as he fought, Snowey nonchalant, 
 but deadly swift. Before the Greek could even look 
 round for a weapon in place of the shovel he had 
 dropped, a hairy apparition that cursed in mixed 
 Gaelic and vivid Australian, was on top of him, deal- 
 ing body blows that would have dented Nelson's column. 
 The Greek knew little of that kind of warfare ; with a 
 a knife he would have been dangerous ; he closed with 
 the big man, and a short, fierce wrestle took place. 
 The Greek fell. 
 
 " Get on y'r shanks, ye dommed alien. All learn ye 
 ta beat th' head o' a puir Breetish wean wi' a spade." 
 
 The Greek tried to explain what the poor British 
 wean had done to him with a pick-handle, but McGlusky 
 was beyond the realms of argument. 
 
 " Australia is f r Australians," he roared. " Man, ye 
 wanted oor ground, A'll fill ye ta th' nozzle wi' it ; ye 
 shall ha' y'r share." 
 
 He rushed to Maida's pile of dirt, seized a bucketful 
 of red clay and came pounding back to fulfil his unholy 
 threat, but the sailor had not waited. He wanted a 
 gold-claim, wanted one badly, but he did not want it 
 inside himself; he ran, and some one afterwards said 
 he did not stop until he could smell the sea. 
 
 Finding his quarry had disappeared, McGlusky 
 plunged into the swaying crowd and dragged Ginger's 
 inert body from under trampling feet, getting more 
 than one goodly reminder that peace was not brooding 
 over the scene in the process. He bore his burden into 
 the open, and laid the red-headed image at the feet of 
 Maida Lamarde. 
 
 " Dae wha' ye can f r him, A'm wantit yonner ; 
 
 L
 
 14G McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 they've got the Sergeant's claim, an' they'll ha' this 
 yin next." 
 
 "They won't." 
 
 As the girl spoke, she jerked her gun from its holster 
 and threw back her head. 
 
 As McGlusky charged back to join Snowey and the 
 others, the big staghound that had been tied in the 
 tent broke its tether and came bounding to Maida's 
 side, its fangs bare, every hair bristling. 
 
 Snowey went down from a hefty stroke, and the 
 Sergeant, though nearly spent, flung a leg across the 
 fallen body, and fought more fiercely than ever. 
 MiGlusky's band had been driven back from the first 
 claim, and were on Maida's ground now. A couple of 
 fellows, eager to grasp the prize, dashed at her left- 
 hand peg. She lifted her gun, and without a moment's 
 hesitation, fired. They had not reckoned on this, for 
 before the great war the gun was seldom seen on any 
 Anzac mining camp. The shot halted them, and when 
 the second bullet cut up the earth at their feet, they 
 fell back. Some others ran to another of her pegs, but 
 she levelled her gun, and one glance in her direction 
 told all beholders she was not bluffing. Had a man 
 been holding that gun, the crowd would have risked it 
 and rushed, but the sight of a girl defending her own 
 shamed them. McGlusky, ever keen in a crisis, seized 
 the moment. 
 
 " Ye cooards, ye dommed jackal pack, ta plunder a 
 wumman's claim fra 1 her. Yon's mine, there where ma 
 banner flies coom an 1 tak" 1 it eef ye can.' 1 
 
 He strode across the few intervening yards and placed 
 himself under his banner. Butterfly stooped, picked
 
 THE TIGER GOLD-CLAIM 147 
 
 Snowey up, and he and the Sergeant joined the grim 
 old Viking, who stood with blood dripping through his 
 iron-grey hair over one cheek on to his bare shoulders, 
 for his singlet had been riven from him in the fray. 
 At that moment the wind lifted the " banner," the 
 shirt bellied out and revealed itself for what it was. 
 
 "Ma name's McGlusky aiv yon's ma standard." 
 
 The crowd gazed : the grotesqueness of it all smote 
 them ; their anger and greed of gold fled before that 
 gaily-striped shirt flaunting in the breeze. A great 
 shout of laughter rent the sultry air, and men who a 
 moment before had been ripe for any devilment, caught 
 hold of one another and rocked with merriment. This 
 seemed to anger the veteran more than all that had 
 gone before. 
 
 " Dae ye tak' me f'r a Punch and Judy show ? " 
 
 " Well," drawled a fellow in the front rank, whose 
 bruised and swollen face backed his words, " you've got 
 a punch, Old Sport, Til go bail f r that." 
 
 " They've got Judy too," 1 shouted another rough wag, 
 "an' a thunderin' good-lookin 1 one." 
 
 Maida smiled at the crude jest, and being a wise 
 little woman, slipped her gun back in its holster and 
 knelt and 'lifted Ginger's head on to her lap. 
 
 "Hope th' kid ain't badly damaged, Miss." 
 
 It was the fellow with the braised face who spoke. 
 
 " He was blamed promiscuous with his pick -handle 
 before he got his little lot," interjected another, " but 
 he's some scrapper." 
 
 Ginger lifted his wounded head, gazed around him 
 vacantly for a bit, and then took in the rough bronzed 
 faces all around him.
 
 148 McGLUSKY THE GOLD -SEEKER 
 
 "Glory be! Oi thought Oi was in hivin ut was a 
 lovely mix-up while ut lasted." 
 
 He smiled his all-enveloping smile, and rose and 
 mixed with his late enemies as unconcernedly as if the 
 whole show had been something worked up for the 
 "pictures." 
 
 In the end it was Ginger who got the Sergeant's 
 ground back, by a fine effort of romantic improvisation. 
 He was talking of the war to the crowd, and said in an 
 off-hand manner 
 
 "The blinkin' Sergeant's English ; Oi'm Irish, but I 
 fought with th' Anzacs all through, an' becase av what 
 th' Sergeant did f r th' Anzacs at Gallipoli, we had ter 
 fight f r him to-day." 
 
 "What did he do particular, son?" asked a 
 bystander. 
 
 "Do! " Ginger opened his wonderful eyes to their 
 widest. Then he let a far-away expression creep into 
 them, as if he were seeing things in his sleep. " There 
 a company av us left ter hold a bally hill which we 
 had tuk at th' point av th' bayonit ; most av our troops 
 was called back f r some blinkin' foolishness or other, 
 an' we had ter hang on to ut. We ran out av water, an' 
 ut was so hot none av us cud spit on a wound ter kape it 
 moist ; we wud ha' perished, we wud that, f r it was 
 not th" 1 Anzac way ter surrender, an' an', boys, them 
 blighters in charge clane forgot all about us, but that 
 Sergeant he didn't disremember us, an' he knew we had 
 no water Oi'm Irish, an' Oi don't love th' Englis' on 
 gineral principles, but Oi like this wan." 
 
 Ginger had cut his story off with fine dramatic eflirt. 
 and was moving away.
 
 THE TIGER GOLD-CLAIM 149 
 
 " Tell us what the Sergeant did, kid." 
 
 " Him ? Oh, he loaded up a mule wid skins av water, 
 an' bruug it to us under fire, an' got courtmartialled f r 
 actin' widout orders, an' was put back in th' blinkin' 
 ranks, but he won his stripes afterwards. He saved an' 
 Anzac comp'ny, that's all." 
 
 "All," growled one of the jumpers. "Why in hell 
 didn't you tell us about that at first, instead of of 
 arguin' th' point with a pick-handle, kid ? No one here 
 wants that chap's claim, eh, boys ? " 
 
 None of them did. They went away like lambs to 
 seek for gold-claims higher up and lower down, and 
 Ginger sat down and filled his pipe, when a slow soft 
 voice drawled 
 
 " Say, son, do you think there's a better single-handed 
 liar on th' crust o' th' planet than you ? " 
 
 " Why, Snowey ? " 
 
 " Because th' Sergeant wasn't at Gallipoli at all, he 
 was in Mesopotamia." 
 
 " Fade .out, Snowey, yeVe disturbin" 1 me reflections. 
 Oi was goin 1 ter call that ' Chapter I ' an' finish ut ' To 
 be continued in our next issue.' r 
 
 " Th 1 Sergeant will boot you when he hears of it." 
 
 " Oi wudden't be surprised if he did. Every great 
 author gets more kicks than ha'pence at th' beginnm 1 av 
 his career," was the unblushing rejoinder. "Anyway, 
 Snowey, Oi got th 1 blinkin' claim back widout any more 
 fightin\ OiVe had all th 1 fightin' Oi want till me next 
 birthday." 
 
 Snowey told McGlusky the story with reservations. 
 Said he, Ginger, told that mob what a "brick the 
 Sergeant was in the fighting-line, and they decided to
 
 150 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 give the Sergeant's claim a miss in baulk. The pioneer 
 glowed with pride in his protege. 
 
 "He's great, ma wee mannie is just great ; he kens 
 hoo ta touch th' hairt- strings o' a fechtin' breed like th' 
 Anzacs, Snowey. Sometimes we air apt ta be hard on 
 him, we think he's no 1 as particular in his han'lin' o' th' 
 truth as he micht be, but, Si^>wey, it's ma firm belief 
 Ginger wad never tell a lee f r th' sake o 1 gold or gear ; 
 he just mak's word pictures an' believes 'em." 
 
 " So did 1 once," murmured Snowey, " till I knew 
 Ginger. 11 
 
 " At hairt, 11 said the pioneer, " ma wee mannie is as 
 innocent as a young magpie. 11 
 
 Never a trace of a smile dawned on the Sharpshooter's 
 stern young face, for he knew how dear the Irish lad 
 was to the man who had found him in the gutter and 
 made a man of him, and Snowey would not have hurt 
 McGlusky for all the tea in China. All he said was 
 
 " Yes, Mac. th 1 kid's right enough in spots, an 1 if 
 ever I find a magpie as innocent as Ginger, I'll I'll 
 paint it pink an' call it Jacob.' 1 
 
 The party were left in undisputed possession of their 
 claims, and soon work was in full swing and no men 
 toiled harder than they, but from the outset it seemed 
 as if they had struck by far the worst patch in " Little 
 Valley." This was especially peculiar, as Maida's claim 
 lay right between McGlusky's and the Sergeant's, 
 neither of whom could make much more than a bare 
 living, whilst the girl got a lot of both fine and shotty 
 gold. Snowey and Ginger got a modest amount of 
 metal ; Butterfly Brown, however, got far the best of 
 any of the party, and even he did not score too heavily.
 
 THE TIGER GOLD-CLAIM 151 
 
 McGlusky's yield was the worst of the lot. They had 
 about fourteen feet of earth to sink through to reach 
 bed rock, and what gold there was was distributed at 
 random in this : sometimes they found it near the surface, 
 sometimes at the bottom or in the middle ; there was no 
 true lode, the metal was just peppered at random in 
 any old place. 
 
 " We'll ha 1 ta work out every blessed inch o' 't, 
 buckies ; eef we leave any, th' bit we leave may hold 
 th' yellow metal." 
 
 That was the veteran's dictum, arid Snowey supple- 
 mented it by saying 
 
 " Work it ? What else are we here for ? You never 
 know y'r blinkin' luck in big towns, an' you don't on a 
 gold-claim. The next shovelful o' dirt any of us shifts 
 ter-morrow may have a nugget in it as big as th' one 
 French Charley found this morning." 
 
 " Och, sprr, Oi don't mind diggin' an' Oi don't mind 
 shovellin', ut's workin' th' dirt from wan dish ter th' 
 other that makes me tired, ut's ut's so slow, sorr." 
 
 " Y're right, mannie, an' A'm goin' ta th' store to- 
 morrow ta buy some tools an' a bit timber, an' some 
 fine-mesh wire, an' A'll mak' as good a machine f r 
 dry-blowin' as you'd buy f r money, an' A'll mak' yin 
 f r each o' us, then we'll no' need th' dom dishes, we'll 
 get through mair dirt in a day that way than we dae 
 now in a week, an' save mair gold." 
 
 True to his promise, McGlusky built a " dry-blowing 
 machine " ; it was rough to the eye, but it worked. 
 Then he started out to make one each for his mates, 
 but could get no leather for the large pair of bellows 
 each dry-blower required.
 
 152 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 " Stumped, sorr ? " 
 
 " A'm no', Ginger ; A'll cut up a pair o' breeks an' 
 use th' material instead o' leather." 
 
 " How mony pairs av breeks will yez be wantin', 
 sorr ? " 
 
 A boot three pairs f r each bellows, buckie." 
 
 " We've wan pair apiece, sorr, an' wid a lady livin' 
 adjacent Oi'm bate if Oi see how ut's ter be done." 
 
 McGlusky pondered over the problem, then a happy 
 smile lit up his rugged face. 
 
 " A ha' it, buckies ! A'll mak' kilts f r ye all oot o' 
 oor blankets." 
 
 Butterfly Brown smiled his evergreen smile, and said 
 
 " Listen a-here, Mac, I'd shore do most anything to 
 please you, but it's strainin' th' bonds o' friendship to 
 th" 1 tearin' point to ask a man to waltz around in a 
 blanket petticoat. All th' boys in th' gully would shore 
 guy us till we'd have ter throw our guns on 'em in self- 
 defence ; if we wear them graceful petticoats, we'll have 
 some guy come courtin' us, or or writin' poetry 
 at us." 
 
 That night Snowey, Ginger, the Sergeant and Butter- 
 fly held a council of war to concoct a scheme to defeat 
 McGlusky's tailoring enterprise, but plan how they 
 would, they could hit on no feasible scheme. - 
 
 " It's no use, mates," sighed Snowey, " if he says he'll 
 dress us in feather bonnets, he'll do it, but I can see a 
 hell of a time in front of us with the * boys ' raisin' their 
 hats polite-like, an' sayin' ' Good-evenin', Miss, can I 
 take you for a ramble by moonlight ? ' 
 
 "It's clean agen natur'," growled Butterfly, " but th' 
 worst of it is, he thinks he's doin' us a favour."
 
 THE TIGER GOLD-CLAIM 153 
 
 " Och," chuckled Ginger, " what do yez think he was 
 doin' when Oi peeped at him in camp just now ?" 
 
 They gave it up, and demanded enlightenment. 
 
 "He was cuttin 1 up his own breeks ter mak' th" 
 limn 1 fr a dry-blower fr Snowey ! " 
 
 "That's him all over, the dear old devil. Well, 
 after that, he can dress me in a pocket-handkerchief if 
 he wants to," commented Snowey. 
 
 " Gosh," murmured Butterfly, " what will he look 
 like ter-morrow ? He has made a banner out of his 
 shirt, an' bellows out o" 1 his breeks ! " 
 
 Ginger said nothing ; he simply rose and drifted out 
 into the night, and as he went he hummed a Scottish 
 air. 
 
 " What's th' kid up to ? " queried the Sergeant. 
 
 " Dunno f r sure, matey," cooed Snowey, " but when 
 that Irish pup croons Scotch music, he's sure got some 
 devilment afoot. I wouldn't wonder if some gent in 
 this gully is some short in his wardrobe when he wakes 
 in th" 1 morninV
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 I. IKK IX A SUCCESSFUL GOLD-CAM!' 
 
 LATE that night Snowey heard some one tip-toeing 
 over his claim. He rose from his blankets, and saw 
 Ginger stealing towards his own ground. 
 
 " Halt there, son." 
 
 "Dry up, Snowey." Ginger crept stealthily back 
 and entered the Sharpshooter's tent ; he had a bundle 
 under one arm. " Why can't yez slape dacent ? \Vve 
 eyes in y'r ears, Snowey." 
 
 "What's that, son?" 
 
 Snowey touched the bundle as he spoke. 
 
 "Do yez remember th' first piece av advice yerself 
 gave me at Gallipoli, Snowey?" 
 
 " No ; Fve sure wasted a lot on you at intervals." 
 
 "Ye told me ter learn ter mind me own busii. 
 pal." 
 
 " Have you been lootin' tents, Ginger ? It's th' 
 unpardonable sin on our goldfields ; th' 'boys' might 
 forgive you fr bushrangin' under certain circumstai 
 they'd never forgive you for sneakin' into a tent." 
 
 " Oi didn't," growled Ginger. " Oi druv a nail 
 through a long stick an' pushed th' stick wid th" nail 
 end ready f r accidents into Possum's tent." 
 
 " Oh, did you ? What happened ? " 
 
 "This happened." Ginger displayed a pair of very 
 '54
 
 LIFE IN A SUCCESSFUL GOLD-CAMP 155 
 
 soiled moleskin trousers. " Thim things was lyin' by 
 Possum, an" 1 him snorin' ter bate th' band." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "Don't spake ter me as if Oi was a thafe." 
 
 The imp put a world of grievance into his tones. 
 
 " Go on with your yarn." 
 
 " Well, Oi wanted me stick back, didn't Oi ? So Oi 
 pulled ut out, an' yez may belave me or not, Snowey, 
 them pants had got tangled up wid th' nail Oi'd druv 
 through me stick, an' Oi Oi got scared, an' Oi come 
 away." 
 
 "And brought Possum's pants with you." 
 
 "Faith, Oi don't belave he'll miss 'em, he's th' 
 dirtiest divil Oi've seen since Oi left Agypt. Oi don't 
 belave he's had a bath f r a year av Christmases." 
 
 Snowey turned over the bundle, and found a second 
 pair of nether garments. 
 
 "And these, Ginger?" 
 
 "Och, thim " the imp tried to speak airily "thim 
 wans belonged ter Possum's mate, him that shares th' 
 same tent wid Possum, an' Oi've a right to 'em. Didn't 
 Possum an' his mate try ter jump th' Auld Timer's 
 claim when he was here on his lonesome ? " 
 
 " Where did you learn that trick with the pole with 
 a nail through the end of it ? " 
 
 " Oi wasn't in th' Army f r nothin'," retorted Ginger. 
 " Oi learnt a lot av things besides dhrill when Oi was 
 sojerin'. Wan night Oi was on sentry-go in front av 
 a canteen in France." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Th' canteen was a big tent, Snowey." 
 
 " Bite into your yarn."
 
 156 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 " Near dawn I seen things comin' out from under th' 
 rim av th' tent." 
 
 - What sort o' things?" 
 
 "All sorts, an' no wan wid 'em." 
 
 " You young liar." 
 
 "Oi'm not. Th' first thing Oi saw come out wn- a 
 loaf av bread, then a ham, an' thim things was cha-id 
 by a cheese." 
 
 " Fade out, Ginger ; Ananias was a raw recruity 
 compared to you at dodgin' th' truth." 
 
 " Oi didn't know th' gent ye call Ananias, Snou 
 wa> lie an Australian ? " 
 
 The Sharpshooter picked up a chunk of rock. 
 
 " Now get on with your serial story, Ginger, and if 
 you make it too steep, I'll I'll shore punctuate it with 
 this." 
 
 " Oi don't want no help, ut's th' Gospel truth Oi'm 
 tellin' ye, pal." 
 
 "Did anything chase that cheese, Ginger?" 
 
 " Yes, Oi did, an* in th' shadow av th' tent Oi fell 
 over one av thim coolies from India that we had doin' 
 odd jobs an' an' interruptin' th' scenery." 
 
 " Couldn't see him, I suppose, till you fell over him .* " 
 
 " Oi cudden't ; he was just th' colour av th* shadow 
 he was lyin' in. Oi grabbed him, an' Oi asked him 
 how many pals he had inside th' canteen shovin' things 
 out, an' he said : ' The Sahib is mistaken, Oi have only 
 this,' an' he showed me a long bamboo wid a nail 
 through th' end av ut, an', Snowey " 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 ** Oi assimilated that knowledge, ut was part av th' 
 friuts av thravel."
 
 LIFE IN A SUCCESSFUL GOLD-CAMP 157 
 
 " Did you assimilate th' cheese too, you scut ? " 
 
 "Only half av ut," sighed Ginger. "Th' haythin 
 wouldn't part up wid th' lot." 
 
 "A nice sentry you were," sneered Snowey. 
 
 "Well, matey," giggled Ginger, "you had y'r share 
 av that same cheese, an' Oi disremember you raisin' 
 any throuble over how Oi came by ut. Now stop 
 jawin' me, an' help me cut these pants so as no one 
 will know if they was trousies or or part av a bridal 
 trousseau." 
 
 When Ginger gave the result of his own and Snowey's 
 handiwork to the veteran the following morning, the 
 big man clapped him on the shoulder. 
 
 "Where did ye get it frae, ma mannie? It's just 
 gran', moleskin's maist as good as leather." 
 
 " Oi got ut from a man who had no use f r ut, sorr ; 
 anyway, Oi didn't pay him much f r ut." 
 
 " A hope ye didna drive too hard a bargain, buckie ; 
 perhaps th' puir de'il were out o' luck." 
 
 "Oi paid what he asked, sorr, no more, no less." 
 
 " Tha's fair, mannie, tha's fair ; there's enough here 
 ta mak' a bellows f'r Butterfly's dry-blower. A've made 
 Snowey's oot o' ma aiu ; y'r ain breeks '11 mak' a fine 
 bellows f'r y'r machine ; A'll start on them th' nicht." 
 
 And up in Possum's camp two breechless men were 
 calling on all the gods they had ever heard of to blight 
 the eyes and the astral body of the sneak thief who had 
 broken the most sacred of diggers' laws. 
 
 "I've had me boots 'shook,' an' me blinkin* hat, an' 
 me spurs," wailed Possum, "but this is th' first time 
 I've been done f r me pants. I'll sleep in mine f r th' 
 future ; this here civilisation's too rapid f r me."
 
 158 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 When McGlusky had finished the dry - blowing 
 machines for his party, they were able to turn over the 
 dirt in their claims at a great rate, for the mach 
 uncouth as they looked, acted as sieves and the impro- 
 vised bellows blew the dust away. All the woodwork 
 Mac had secured from packing-cases purchased at the 
 stores, of which there were now quite a few, for 
 Australian provision and tool-sellers are quick on the 
 uptake when alluvial gold is struck, for such gold is 
 current coin, and is taken as payment for goods quite 
 as readily as the minted metal, and no men squander 
 their hard-won wealth so recklessly as diggers. 
 
 Soon the whole valley lay from dawn till dusk in a 
 thick haze of reddish dust, stirred up by the gold- 
 seekers ; each claim turned out its quota, and the toiling 
 men looked like ghosts in the midst of it ; they breathed 
 it as they slaved, and as the sweat ran off their bodies 
 in the gully which had now become an inferno with 
 savage heat and choking dust and maddening flies. 
 They cursed, but they worked, for the wide world owns 
 no men who can stand the strain of desperate toil like 
 the men of Anzac ; they work as they fight and as 
 they play, with every ounce of fibre that is in them a 
 great breed, destined yet to become the masters of the 
 world. Mo.st of the claim-holders in both gulleys were 
 either Australians or New Xealanders ; they had got 
 the claims in the valleys because they knew the game 
 better than the foreigners ; these latter folk had to be 
 content with what they could peg out on the Hats on 
 both sides of the valleys; they got gold, but not in 
 anything like the same proportion, for the rains of 
 centuries had washed the richest of the metal into the
 
 LIFE IN A SUCCESSFUL GOLD-CAMP 159 
 
 lowest country; where water goes, alluvial gold will 
 follow in the course of time, though it may take 
 ages. 
 
 Of all the men in the gulleys, none worked harder 
 than McGlusky's party. At the peep of dawn he was 
 up, getting his breakfast, and he always roused the 
 others, which caused Butterfly Brown to remark with 
 an expansive grin 
 
 "TV old bird shore don't believe in dallyin' with 
 th' goddess o' sleep to any wasteful extent." 
 
 To which Ginger grumblingly assented, saying 
 
 " Him ? Och, but he's got a cockerel inside av him 
 that crows whin darkness is whisperin' good-bye ter th' 
 daylight. If Oi was a wench, Oi wudden't be his wife 
 f 'r a two-headed penny." 
 
 After a frugal breakfast, the toil of the day began, 
 and did not end until daylight disappeared. McGlusky 
 had ascertained that from fifteen to twenty feet of 
 earth lay above the bed-rock on their claims, and that 
 meant that each of his party had to dig up fifty feet 
 square of stiff red earth to that depth, pulverise it, and 
 put it through their machines, and extract the gold. 
 Their luck varied from day to day ; sometimes they did 
 moderately well, but they did not strike a single big 
 nugget between them, though Maida Lamarde working 
 so near them, dug up several fine nuggets, and men not 
 far away did even better than the lass. 
 
 "It's th' uncertainty o' th' game tha' gie's it its 
 charm ; it's a gran' gamble wi' fate, buckies," said the 
 pioneer one night in camp. 
 
 " Bedad, thin, is ut, sorr ? Ut's meself wud part wid 
 a bit av that same uncertainty wid gladness f r a few av
 
 160 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 thiin eight an' ten ounce bits av gold those beyant are 
 gettin'." 
 
 "Grousin', wee mannie?" 
 
 " Well, sorr, Oi've made a pile av dust as big as 
 a house, an' me packet av gold is so small ut blushes 
 wid shame when Oi look at ut." 
 
 " You've got th' joy o' work, kid," cooed Snowey, 
 who had proved the unluckiest of the lot, with the 
 exception of the veteran. 
 
 Ginger's lip curled. 
 
 " Work ? Me back's bruk, me hands blistered, th' 
 sun has peeled half th' skin off me, an 1 th' flies have 
 made homes fr their eggs in th' other half; Oi'm 
 so full av dust Oi can't spit, an' Oi can't find me face 
 f r dirt, widout th' help av a bit av hoop iron ter scrape 
 ut. Work if Oi ever see that word again in print, 
 Oi'll burn th' book." Then springing to his feet 
 he cried : " You an' y'r work ! Oi'm goin' on a tare, 
 Oi am. What do ye say to a night out, Butterfly ? Oi 
 can hear music in th' big valley." 
 
 " Wonder if they've got a billiard table up yet ; I'm 
 shore pinin' f r a little loosenin' up o' th' springs 
 o' pleasure, son." 
 
 The American stretched his long limbs, and looked 
 round on his comrades with the smile that never seemed 
 far from the surface. 
 
 " Most sure to have by now," commented Snowey. 
 
 "I wonder," ventured the Sergeant, "if a man could buy 
 a bottle of real beer, or is it too early to expect any yet?" 
 
 " Man, y're daft : A'll wager ma kilt there's twenty 
 drinkin'-shanties in Canvas Toon th' noo, an' beer 
 enouch ta swim a whale in."
 
 LIFE IN A SUCCESSFUL GOLD-CAMP 161 
 
 "I'm not a whale, Mac," replied the Englishman 
 gently, " but if there really is beer in the big valley, I'm 
 going to get outside a pint or two of it before I sleep to- 
 night. I'm like Ginger, I'm so full of dust I can't spit." 
 
 " A'm no" 1 blamin 1 ye, laddies : yVe young, an 1 th" 1 
 young canna stan' th' strain o' ceaseless work like men 
 o' ma am age who ha 1 been hammered hard by th' 
 passin' years. A felt weak an' worn oot like ye air 
 feelin' noo yince." 
 
 "If any one else told me that," put in Butterfly in 
 his droll way, "I'd shore make conversation on his 
 pedigree. I don't believe you ever was real tired, Old 
 Sportsman ; you never was born, you were made out of 
 scrap-iron in a blacksmith's shop." 
 
 " Come to Canvas Town with us, Mac, an' have a bit 
 of a razzle, come an' see th' sights." 
 
 " A've seen 'em all sae often, Snowey." 
 
 " Oi wudden't come, sorr, if Oi was you." 
 
 The Sergeant made a vicious kick at Ginger's shin in 
 a surreptitious way, for the speech seemed so heartless 
 after all the veteran had done for his party. 
 
 " Why no', mannie ? " 
 
 Every ear caught the note of pain in the rugged old 
 prospector's voice. 
 
 " Oi'd hate ter see yez get hurted, sorr." 
 
 " Ma get hurtit ? " 
 
 A smile had taken the place of the frown that had 
 crossed Snowey's face when Ginger had first spoken. 
 The Sharpshooter knew the Irish imp was manoeuvring 
 the veteran to make him have a night out. 
 
 "Have yez forgotten Mister Rooney, sorr? He's 
 here somewhere, an' if ye meet him " 
 
 M
 
 162 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 Up rose McGlusky. 
 
 " Wee laddie, A had clean forgotten Rooney ; he gave 
 ma an eenvitation ta ca' on him, did he no' ? It wad 
 no' be manners befittin' Jamie de McGlusky, Chevalier 
 o" Eetaly, no' ta respond ta it."" 
 
 " Ye've no throusies, sorr." 
 
 " A've ma kilt an 1 a pair o' boots." 
 
 "Ye've no shirt, sorr. Shall Oi pull down y'r 
 banner?" 
 
 "Ye will no\ A've a singlet an' a jacket." He 
 strapped his broad leather belt round his waist, jammed 
 a big Colt into its holster. " Noo," he cried, " A'm 
 feelin' fat an' fine; eef A meet Mr. Rooney, All gie 
 him a ceevil reminder o 1 th' bit misun'erstan'in' 1 atween 
 us ; eef he uses his han's, A'll dae ma best ta leeve up ta 
 ma patent o 1 nobeelity ; eef he goes f r his gun, A'll shoot 
 his eyelashes off; if th' rest o 1 his head goes wi" 1 'em, it's 
 his look-out walk roon' ma, buckies ; hoo dae A look ? " 
 
 Ginger walked round him, and noticed the home- 
 made kilt, manufactured out of a coarse blue blanket ; 
 it only reached to the veteran's knees. He noticed also 
 the great sinewy, hairy legs guiltless of stockings. He 
 noticed, too, the splendid shoulders, that sloped and 
 gave the arms the driving power of piston rods, and the 
 waist that tapered as the waist of the perfect athlete 
 always does. 
 
 " Och, sorr, Oi nivver seen anything like yerself ; ut's 
 fit f r a ballroom yez are this blessed minute." 
 
 " Na, na," came the modest answer, " no' f r a ball- 
 room, buckie, till A ha' a bath, but A'm theenkin' 
 A'm no' sae bad f r a goldfields 1 bar-room an' a dance 
 wi' Mister Rooney."
 
 LIFE IN A SUCCESSFUL GOLD-CAMP 163 
 
 Ginger was buckling on his gun. 
 
 " Leave that in camp, kid." 
 
 " Why shud Oi ? You've got y'r own on, Snowey." 
 
 "Because I know th' rules of Australian mining camps, 
 an' you don't, son this ain't Gallipoli ; if you throw a 
 gun here, except in self-defence, you'll swing, an,' kid " 
 
 "Whatisut?" 
 
 " You wouldn't look graceful on the end of a rope." 
 
 " Snowey's richt. All o* ye leave y'r guns in camp ; 
 me an' yon laddie wull tak' our guns because we know 
 when it 's lawfu' to use 'em." 
 
 Soon the little party set out, and on the way the 
 Sergeant managed to get Ginger to himself. 
 
 " I'm sorry, lad, I put my boot on your shin in 
 camp ; I thought you were turning the Old Sportsman 
 down," said the Englishman. 
 
 " When y're in doubt agin, plaze ter disremember 
 ter boot me, Sergeant not that Oi'm blamin 1 y'r fr 
 kickin' me if ye thought Oi was playin' it down low on 
 him ; Oi'd deserve more'n a boot if Oi played th' skunk 
 wid th' Auld Timer ; he dry-nursed me when Oi was a 
 gutter-rat, an' he licked me into shape as a soger an' 
 a man, an' now he's thryin' ter make a bushman out av 
 me, an' he thinks a bushman is th' noblest work av 
 God when he's sober." 
 
 "I knew, lad, as soon as you mentioned Rooney, 
 what your game was ; you know how to work him as 
 a woman knows how to work a sewin'-machine ; listen 
 to him now, laughin' with Butterfly an' Snowey, he's 
 as happy as a sandpiper ; he's glad to know we want 
 him in our pleasures as well as in our work. A night 
 out on the tiles will do him no end of good."
 
 164 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 " He's as full av fun an* divilment as a two-year-old, 
 Sergeant; th' joy av life's in ivery bone in his body ; 
 he'll be a great big boy whin he's a hundred an' ten, 
 
 an' " Just then a great rollicking burst of laughter 
 
 broke from McGlusky, to whom Butterfly had been 
 telling one of his whimsical stories of American life. 
 "Hark to him,"" exulted Ginger, "listen ter th 1 laugh 
 av him. If Oi can laugh like that when Oi liu\x- 
 whiskers wid more grey hairs than black in 'em, Oi 
 won't have no regrets comin' ter me concernin 1 a mis- 
 spent youth." 
 
 " He's got honey in his heart, lad, that's what makt.> 
 life so sweet to him." 
 
 " It's not all honey ; he's a mixture ; he's like a 
 bottle av patent medicine, yez have ter shake him up 
 ter find out what's at th' bottom. Wud yez like ter 
 make a little wager, Sergeant darlin' ? " 
 
 " What about ? " 
 
 " O'll bet ye a dozen packets av fags, Mister Rooney 
 don't think th' old cock-bird has honey in his heart if 
 they meet to-night." 
 
 " I don't bet against certs, you whelp ; try another." 
 
 When the party reached Canvas Town, they found 
 night-life in full swing. Some one had named the 
 main thoroughfare " Republican Highway," which 
 caused Ginger to remark after his first visit that the 
 name was too long by one syllable. 
 
 " Why didn't they christen ut ' Publican Highway, 1 
 an' have done wid ut ? " 
 
 Asked for reasons, he declared you could purchase 
 alcohol in one fonn or another in every third shop from 
 end to end of the causeway.
 
 LIFE IN A SUCCESSFUL GOLD-CAMP 165 
 
 " Oi went into a tent wid a sign on ut which said 
 ut was a chemist's shop, an" 1 Oi saw six-foot-six of 
 humanity in a grey tweed suit, foolin' wid a lot av 
 medicin' bottles an' ointments an' stickin'-plaster. Faith, 
 he was a tall man, that medicine dispenser," ruminated 
 Ginger, " an' Oi think he'd been so busy growing long, 
 he hadn't time ter think av growin' wide too, he was 
 so narrow across th' body av him, that if he'd had one 
 leg planted in th' middle av him, ut would have done 
 instead av havin' wan on each side like me an' you. 
 Tli' thickest thing about him was his brogue ; he was 
 as Irish as wan av th' Kilkenny cats. Oi axed him fr 
 a drop av somethin' ter rub on me face, ter take th' sun 
 blisters out av ut, an' he winked at me. l Oi'll pre- 
 scribe f 'r y'r complaint,' sez he, ' half-a-dollar, cash in 
 advance.' Oi planked down th' coin, an' he took a 
 black bottle out av a hole in th' ground, an' poured 
 me out a stiff dose av uts contents. 'Dhrink that, 
 me son,' sez he, * an' be thankful yez came ter me instead 
 av goin' ter th' store beyant, it's chain lightnin' in a 
 bottle ye'd got there.' 'Och,' sez Oi, 'ut's whisky 
 ye've given me.' ' Faith, an' ye never spoke a thruer 
 word, me bould boy, whisky ut is, an' th' best in 
 Australia.' 'Pour ut back in th' bottle, Mister 
 medicine man,' sez Oi wid dignity, 'Oi don't touch 
 th' stuff, Oi'm a water- waggoner.' He tuk th' stuft 
 back an' looked at it long an' lovingly. 'Pour ut 
 back in th' bottle,' sez he, 'Oi'll not; Oi'd not insult 
 what's left in th' bottle by lettin' it know ut had been 
 refused by a kid wid a mouth like a cemetery an' a 
 head av hair like a hayrick afire.' An' wid that he 
 gave his arm a crook, an' threw th' whisky down his
 
 166 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 neck ; bedad, he was clever at ut, Oi don't think ut 
 touched anywhere till ut hit th' bottom av his stum- 
 niic-k. ' Oi'm havin' that wid you,' he sez in a grand 
 way, as if he was payin' me a compliment by drinkin' 
 at my expense. An' ut was most th' same everywhere 
 else Oi went ; if Oi axed f'r ink, they'd push a bottle 
 of whisky at me, an' drop an eyelid. They may have 
 lived on other things in that street, but whisky was 
 the main article av diet; I wudden't wonder if they'd 
 learnt ter tak ut baked or boiled. When Oi asked th' 
 price av a saddle at wan shop, th' blighter in charge 
 tucked a big jar under his arm an' began pourin' 
 whisky into a pannikin. ' How will yez have ut ? ' sez 
 he. * Three fingers or a brimmer * ' 
 
 The MeGlusky party felt the thrill of Republican 
 Highway as soon as they entered it, for, as the Sergeant 
 remarked, they were all fed up and strung tight with 
 hard work, hard living, and stern travail. The High- 
 way was wide, as thoroughfares always are in such 
 places, to allow teams to pass without crowding or 
 getting into the big ruts that are soon worn in unma- 
 cadamised roads. Tents were greatly in evidence on 
 both sides, but here and there an ugly galvanised-iron 
 structure upreared itself, hideous to the eye, blistering 
 hot in summer, a miniature refrigerator in winter ; but 
 the material is easily carried on camel-back, and stacks 
 better than anything else in waggons. Bough shanties 
 with tarpaulin roofs were also common. One big 
 galvanised-iron and weatherboard building was the 
 dance-hall of the "rush," and a very large canvas 
 marquee was used for athletic entertainments. The 
 principal hotel flaunted the sign of The Three
 
 LIFE IN A SUCCESSFUL GOLD-CAMP 167 
 
 Sparrows, possibly because the size of a "nip 11 sold 
 there for a shilling would have just suited the carrying 
 capacity of one of those enterprising birds. Right 
 opposite The Three Sparrows stood The Kangaroo 
 and Emu Hostel, and a few yards farther down on 
 the left-hand side The Lucky Digger. As speci- 
 mens of architecture they would not have taken prizes 
 even in a city of the dead, but they had been rushed up 
 in a hurry, and if the field proved permanent, they would 
 soon be replaced by handsome edifices of brick or stone. 
 
 McGlusky and his friends could not see many women 
 about, but the Highway was thronged with men. The 
 first person to address them was a black child of the 
 soil, whose raiment if rolled into a ball, would not have 
 plugged a man's ear. Straight of hair, slender and 
 straight of figure, with eyes like a spaniel's and wonder- 
 ful teeth, this nomadic daughter of the wilds looked 
 curiously out of place amid the roar and bustle of the 
 white man's camp. 
 
 " Gib it a chillinV 1 
 
 A slender, shapely hand, indescribably dirty, was 
 thrust out in Ginger's direction. 
 
 "Always a fav'rite with th' ladies, kid," chuckled 
 Snowey. 
 
 "What isut sayin'?" 
 
 Ginger had drawn back from the extended hand. 
 
 " She's askin' ye fr a shillin 1 ; gie her yin, wee 
 mannie." 
 
 " Och, an 1 what for, sorr ? " 
 
 " Weel, buckie, eef ma een an 1 ma nose air any good 
 as guides, A should say f'r a bath. A'm no 1 theenkin 1 
 shell ha' one, but by ma whuskers, she needs it, an,
 
 168 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 mannie, we white fowk ha 1 taken her country frae her 
 an' her people, an" 1 dom little ha' we done fr any o" 1 
 them, \ve whites air th' most self-righteous humbugs 
 an' hypocrites on God's planet." 
 
 Ginger gave the dole, as the old Scottish Anzac had 
 commanded. The nomad gripped it in her left hand, 
 and pushed out the right hand towards McGlusky. 
 
 " Gib it terbaccer." 
 
 "A kenned weel tha' wad come next." 
 
 As he spoke the Scot, who like nearly all men of 
 Scottish blood, had a great big streak of generosity in 
 him, tossed half a plug of good tobacco into the 
 "gin's" hand. Butterfly watching the episode, 
 laughed. 
 
 " Noble red man over again, only painted black, 
 Mac." 
 
 Quick as a flash, the " gin " tunied on the Yank. 
 
 " Gib it beer, Mister." 
 
 " Na, na, tha's no' lawfu' an' no' richt either, though 
 A ken there's white trash who dae it. A'd gie ye some 
 claes eef A " 
 
 Sorr " 
 
 "Weel, Ginger?" 
 
 " \\l\y not give her y'r kilt, ufs " 
 
 " Ma kilt, ye blastie ? An 1 wha" 1 wad A look wi'oot 
 it ? A 'in no 1 a bird, A'm no' feathered, an' we air in 
 Republican Highway, we *" 
 
 " Och, sorr, we tuk th' poor divil's counthry, 
 
 i 
 an 
 
 :<l(k-n swing of one of McGlusky's long legs hi-lpcd 
 Ginger very materially in the direction of The Three 
 Sparrows.
 
 LIFE IN A SUCCESSFUL GOLD-CAMP 169 
 
 " That settles it," drawled Snowey. " I was won- 
 derin' which pub we'd sample first ; come on, Sergeant, 
 before the beer gets cold." 
 
 Inside The Three Sparrows they found a crowd of 
 hilarious men drinking, joking, and generally making a 
 night of it. There was plenty of rough horse-play, but 
 no ill-humour. An Italian was playing the harp, and 
 from time to time sent the hat round, and if he was 
 not satisfied with the result, he ought to have been. 
 
 The McGlusky contingent slaked their thirst, each 
 in his own peculiar beverage, and then took in the 
 scene. Some one noticed Mac's kilt, and shouted 
 
 " Hullo, Scottie, brought y'r bagpipes with you, 
 eh?" 
 
 The big fellow knew it was only friendly banter, and 
 smiled as he shouted back 
 
 " Na, buckie, no 1 th 1 nicht." Then, in an aside to 
 Snowey : " Ma certie, A'll tak 1 that hint an' niak' a 
 set o 1 pipes ; it wad dae na harm eef they had a wee 
 bit o' guid Christian music here." 
 
 "What's wrong with th' harp, Old Sport?" 
 
 "Naething exactly wrang wi' it, but it just turn 
 turn turns a' th' time, it doesna' grup hold o' y'r 
 innards ; a fiddle's no' sa bad when it squeals an* 
 screeches an' sobs an' yowls like a wumman wailin* f r 
 her stolen washin', but gie ma th' pipes, they'll mak' 
 a cooard fecht when they hit th 1 high places, an' when 
 they're sobbin' soft an' low, they'll mak' a burglar 
 weep f r a misspent life. Yon blastie wi' th' harp 
 means weel, but he ainly scratches at th' skin o' y'r 
 feelin's." 
 
 " Wisht we cud lay hands on some pipes, sorr ; we'd
 
 170 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 do a grand parade down Republican Highway," ex- 
 claimed Ginger, in whom the leaven of devilment was 
 working, as it always worked when a crowd bent on 
 hilarity was round. 
 
 One of the girls behind the bar had noticed the Irish 
 lad's beautiful eyes, and having a moment to spare just 
 then, she leant across the bar and said with a jolly 
 laugh 
 
 " Say, boy, did you steal those eyes out of a bed of 
 violets, or did a pixie drop them out of the sky 't " 
 
 Ginger dropped one of his sun-tanned hands on the 
 girl's soft white fingers, and imprisoned them. 
 
 " It's a sacret," he whispered, his eyes dancing with 
 the riotous life within him. 
 
 " Can't you tell it me, boy ? " - 
 
 " Oi can, an' Oi will, if if ye'll meet me by moon- 
 light on y'r lonesome." 
 
 " I I can't," murmured the girl. 
 
 " Och, darlint, an' why can't yez ? " 
 
 " I I might be charged with kidnapping, boy." 
 
 She jerked her fingers free, and stood back to enjoy 
 his discomfiture. 
 
 "Ever been had, Ginger?" drawled Snowcv. 
 
 Some of the men standing near began to banter the 
 lad in the free and easy way of the back country, and 
 his quick return shots and the attendant laughter soon 
 made him the centre of a jovial crowd. They pro-id 
 him to drink. 
 
 " Oi'm a water-wagoner," he replied, and tossed his 
 red head back as if to face down any ridicule that 
 might follow this declaration in such a place ; but a 
 burly giant of a man in the crowd growled
 
 LIFE IN A SUCCESSFUL GOLD-CAMP 171 
 
 " Shows y'r blinkin 1 sense, young 'un ; pity some of 
 us ain't got a slice of it." 
 
 The good-looking barmaid, who had previously chaffed 
 him, touched his shoulder 
 
 "Plenty of soft drinks here, if you want 'em, boy." 
 
 " Is there ? Well, give me th' coolest ye've got, an' 
 an 1 drop a smile in ut Oi'm Oi'm fond av pearls." 
 
 " Say, young 'un," interpolated the burly man who 
 had spoken in friendly fashion when Ginger had 
 announced himself as a water-waggoner, "you'll be 
 buyin' a peck o' trouble if you go on dropping those 
 flowers o' speech at Annie Laurie's feet." 
 
 "Why will he, Jim?" 
 
 The query snapped from the girl's lips like shot from 
 a sporting gun. 
 
 The man called Jim grinned. 
 
 " What about Diamond Jake, eh, Annie Laurie ? " 
 
 " Well, what about him ? You got any shares in 
 Diamond Jake, Jim ? " 
 
 " Not a cent's worth ; if I had I'd sell 'em cheap." 
 
 " Well, sew your mouth up, Jim." 
 
 " Say, young 'un, did you ask Annie Laurie f'r a 
 'cool' drink?" 
 
 "Oidid." 
 
 " Well, 'pears to me she's too all-fired hot ter-night 
 
 to get it for you, unless " he grinned good- 
 
 humouredly, "unless you're going to be the white- 
 headed boy in these particular regions." 
 
 The girl threw a champagne cork at the speaker, 
 and Ginger, fascinated by the lassie's nickname, began 
 to hum a bar or two of the old Scotch ballad of the 
 same name.
 
 172 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 Instantly a shout arose : " A song, a song silence 
 for a song," and the Irish lad was hustled across the 
 bar to the side of the harpist. 
 
 There was nothing shy about Ginger, and if there 
 was one thing on earth he loved doing more than all 
 else, it was singing. 
 
 "Why do they call th' girl Annie Laurie? Ut's 
 not her name," he asked the burly Jim. 
 
 " Because she's always hummin' it when she's workin*. 
 Say, are you any great shakes as a song-bird, young 
 'un?" 
 
 " Oi can warble a bit. Why ? " 
 
 "Only because Diamond Jake fancies he's th 1 lost 
 chord in vocal harmony come ter light again ; tl 
 whv he got a sort o' cinch on Annie; he's marked her 
 off as his claim, an' he hangs out a sort o' unofficial 
 notice sayin' 'Stand off th 1 grass/ He gives himself 
 airs in regard to Annie, Diamond Jake does."" 
 
 "Och, does he, Jim? An' what's th' gent's best 
 song?" 
 
 " Why, that blessed Scotch thing th' boys have 
 tacked on ter th 1 girl, an' he don't mean any one else 
 ter sing it not in this emporium of thirst destruction." 
 
 " Does he sing ut well ? " 
 
 " I'm no judge o' voice acrobatics, but it don't hurt 
 much when Diamond Jake sings it, it ain't as bad as 
 heariif a kid cry while mother's doin' th' wa>hin\ 
 There's Diamond Jake now, speak in' ter th' girl ; he's 
 ju.-t come in; notice how he's engulfin' her with his 
 charms, sort of ' staked-out-an'-leased-this-claim ' sort 
 o' attitude he adopts." 
 
 Ginger whispered to the Italian harpist ; the harp
 
 LIFE IN A SUCCESSFUL GOLD-CAMP 173 
 
 strings twanged melodiously, and Ginger's voice, 
 sweeter and richer than honeysuckle honey, swept 
 through the big bar, and gripped every man and 
 woman in it. The Italian, who was a real musician, 
 gave one swift upward look at the singer, then his 
 fingers softened on the harp-strings. The crowd was a 
 rough one, but perhaps on that very account tender 
 sentiment, when beautifully rendered, touched them to 
 the quick ; they stood motionless, each man in the 
 pose in which the boy's voice had found him, some 
 with glasses of liquor half raised to lips, some grasping 
 foaming pots of beer, others with matches lifted to 
 light their pipes, some leaning against the bar, others 
 seated at little round rough tables, some were bearded, 
 some clean-shaven, a few had donned jackets after 
 their day of toil, but the majority were in shirts and 
 trousers, the shirt-sleeves rolled up above the bronzed 
 elbows. 
 
 Ginger had not glanced at the girl behind the bar 
 when he first began to sing, but when he reached the 
 words 
 
 " An' for bonnie Annie Laurie 
 I wad lay me doon an' dee," 
 
 the Irish imp seemed to fling his eyes full in her face 
 magical, wonderful eyes, at the best, or worst, of times, 
 but when backed by the expression he threw into them, 
 and by the haunting melody of the old ballad, they 
 were, as Butterfly phrased it, "Two lamps o' love, 
 warranted ter draw a nun through the keyhole of any 
 cloister," and the lass behind the bar was not a nun. 
 
 When the first verse ended, a riot of acclamation 
 broke out. The harpist let his fingers drop from the
 
 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 harp strings, and his voice rang out in a stentorian 
 " Brava, Signer, brava." 
 
 Ginger was not listening to the applause; he had 
 expected it, for he knew the power of his gift ; his eyes 
 were talking to the girl's eyes, just as if he had known 
 and loved her for a lifetime, and her eyes seemed to 
 melt into his. 
 
 "The young devil," murmured Snowey in Butterfly's 
 ear. "Those violet blinkers of his will get him shot 
 yet." 
 
 " He's doin' th' shootin 1 at present, an' an' th' 
 victim seems ter be enjoyin' it amazin'." 
 
 The harpist being an artist, touched the strings at the 
 right moment, and Ginger sang on, but this time his eyes 
 were on the eyes of Diamond Jake. Perhaps it was the 
 way the lad manipulated his long, curving eyelashes, 
 possibly it was some histrionic talent latent in him, but 
 as he sang, the song seemed to become a mockery and 
 a jibe at Jake, a swarthy, athletic fellow of thirty or 
 so, who had " flash digger " written all over him. 
 
 He had come by his nickname on a former goldfield, 
 where, having been unprecedently lucky, he had the 
 gaps between his teeth filled with diamonds, and had 
 cultivated a smile in order to display his adornments. 
 A man of his hands, and aggressively quarrelsome in 
 liquor or out of it, he was not a popular personage on 
 any of the camps, and there were many in the bar who 
 were far from sorry to see the Irish boy put him on a 
 back bench, for all knew Jake to be inordinately vain 
 of his powers as a singer and a charmer of women. 
 
 When the song ceased, Ginger came in for an ovation, 
 and there were loud cries of " Encore ! Encore ! ! "
 
 LIFE IN A SUCCESSFUL GOLD-CAMP 175 
 
 "Ofm dhry," answered the lad crisply, "wan song 
 f r wan man is my motto ; let some other gents oblige." 
 
 He looked pointedly at Diamond Jake as he spoke. 
 The digger Jim, who apparently had no other name, 
 took his cue from Ginger's pointed glance, and said 
 
 " Boys, perhaps Diamond Jake will foller suit and 
 oblige." But Jake scowled and shook his head. 
 " 'Fraid ter harmonise after th' young 'an, Jake ? " 
 Then, as if commiserating with a fallen idol, Jim 
 added : " Don't blame you for not vocalising after that 
 bird o' song, Jake, an 1 we don't use violence ter induce 
 you to. Th' kid's great ; he's made o' honey an' 
 molasses ; he'll sure spoil th' sale of sugar in this camp 
 if he sings often ; th' flies won't be follerin' you 
 after ter-night, Jake." 
 
 Jim sent a meaning glance at the girl behind the 
 bar as he sent this shaft home. It almost looked as if 
 Jim was not averse to a quarrel with Jake, but possibly 
 for some reason known to himself, that notable per- 
 sonage, as Butterfly remarked, " was not hitchin 1 his 
 battle banner to any of Jim's outfit." He turned to 
 the girl instead, and called for drinks for the bar, a 
 proceeding he presumably was not addicted to, though 
 his claim was one of the richest on the field, for a 
 digger remarked 
 
 " Gee, but that red-headed youngster's melody must 
 be powerful meltin', Jake's goin' ter anoint th' bar." 
 
 Ginger, either of set purpose or by what Snowey 
 termed coincidental accident, found himself close to 
 Jake. The truth was that Ginger, in his volcanic 
 fashion, had taken an intense dislike to the man with 
 the jewelled teeth as soon as he set eyes on him, and he
 
 176 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 was more than willing to measure himself with the man. 
 The aversion was mutual, Jake seeing the lad at his 
 elbow, said with an oath 
 
 " You've got a pretty voice." Then, indicating 
 Ginger's not too handsome face, he added: "What 
 beats me is how anything that sounds sweet could come- 
 out of a place so damn ugly." 
 
 "Man," roared McGlusky, "y're rotten wi' ei 
 y're just blushin' wi' jealousy like a crimson geranium 
 bed in love wi 1 th 1 sun." 
 
 Ginger pushed the big man back. 
 
 " Och, let me alone, sorr, Oi'm not a babe on th' 
 bottle." 
 
 He tunied towards Diamond Jake, and balanced 
 himself on his toes to strike, and Jake was waiting 
 and watching so was the Sergeant. The English ex- 
 soldier stepped adroitly in between the pair, and in 
 doing so managed to knock Diamond Jake's elbow so 
 that his whisky went into his face. 
 
 Digger Jim put a huge hand on Ginger's belt and 
 yanked him back out of the way. 
 
 " Those two chaps are well matched as to height an' 
 weight, let 'em get busy." 
 
 Then- was little need for Digger Jim's exordium; 
 the pair had got busy. 
 
 In the crowded bar the English soldier had all the 
 worst of the debate ; he was a fighter who wanted room 
 to move about in to do his best. Diamond Jake, who 
 was something of a tiger, was in his element in a rough 
 and tumble at close quarters. The onlookers gave fair 
 play, but they could not help getting in the way of the 
 combatants in the crowded space. Snowey, watchful^
 
 LIFE IN A SUCCESSFUL GOLD-CAMP 177 
 
 cool, observant of all things, saw how it was with the 
 Sergeant. The Englishman, rushed off his feet, was 
 hurled heavily to the floor, and lay half-stunned, whilst 
 Diamond Jake exulted over him. 
 
 "Quick, take his feet, I'll take his head, 1 ' snarled 
 Snowey in Butterfly's ear. Then to the crowd : " Fair 
 play f r th' stranger, boys. We'll carry him into th' 
 open air." 
 
 Swiftly the crowd made way, for fair play is the very 
 essence of life in the Anzac lands. The Sergeant was 
 carried out, protesting he wasn't half-beaten yet. 
 
 " Who said you was ? " whispered Snowey in his ear. 
 " All you want is room to handle y'r feet, pal, an' 
 we're gettin' it f r you." 
 
 "Make a ring, an' let's have this settled fair an 1 
 square." 
 
 It was a long, lithe New Zealander who shouted this 
 demand, and he jerked his shirt over his head to show 
 that he for one was ready to back his words. 
 
 A dusky Maori, his white teeth showing in a glad- 
 some grin, took a hitch at his belt, as he ranged up 
 alongside the Pakeha from his own country. 
 
 " Fair play all round, an' th' best man on top at the 
 finish." 
 
 The Maori's big eyes were blazing as he voiced the 
 religion of his people, and Digger Jim put the creed of 
 Australia into his words, saying 
 
 " Fair play ; there's oceans of it between the Gulf of 
 Carpentaria an' th' Southern Sea, an' there ain't nothin' 
 else can live in this atmosphere, it'll demise sudden an' 
 have no funeral pyre if it shows itself, eh, boys ? " 
 
 A great rolling laugh, full of strange menace rose
 
 178 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 from the throng; men poured out from tents and st 
 and dance-rooms, and a living ring was made in 
 Republican Highway. 
 
 Just before the men rose from their corners, McGlu.sk v 
 kilted, naked as to the under leg, his jacket off, his, big 
 gnarled arms bare, strode into the ring. 
 
 "Ma buckies, A ken weel na Breetisher, na son o' 
 Anzac wull meddle wi 1 this meetin' o' man wi' man ; 
 eef any foreigner does sae" he paused, and looked 
 menacingly round the ring "A'll no' hit him, A'll 
 pull him oot like a human telescope an' push him 
 thegither again. My name's McGlusky." A roar, that 
 told the veteran how deeply his name and fame had 
 bitten into Anzac hearts was his answer, as he fell back 
 and stood by the side of his mates behind the English 
 Sergeant. " Air ye ready ower there, ye wi 1 th' diamond 
 dentistry?" 
 
 Jake sprang from the knee of his second, to show 
 that he was both ready and willing. 
 
 As the Sergeant rose from Snowey's knee, the 
 Sharpshooter said in his easy, confident way 
 
 " Make use of your head an" feet this round, matev, 
 an 1 make him eat th' wind lots of time between now 
 an 1 to-morrow."
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 A BLACK OUTLOOK FOR MAIDA 
 
 THE full moon made Republican Highway almost 
 as light as noonday, when the Sergeant stood up to 
 face the redoubtable Diamond Jake. The "Jewelled 
 Gent, 1 ' as Butterfly termed him, was brimful of con- 
 fidence ; he came across the ring with the velocity of a 
 tiger. The Englishman, following the advice of his 
 wise and skilful second, stepped neatly and nimbly on 
 one side. The Anzac crowd, quick to appreciate skill 
 and coolness, broke into applause. Jake turned swiftly, 
 and getting close, swung a sledge-hammer blow at his 
 opponent's jaw. Down dropped the Englishman's 
 curly head, and the blow passed harmlessly. Jake tried 
 a heavy left hook, and his foe stepped back a pace, and 
 nothing was disturbed but the atmosphere. 
 
 "Smile at him, Jake," chanted a voice from the 
 crowd, "smile and dazzle him with your Kimberley 
 outfit ; you can't hit him with a shot-gun.' 1 
 
 The taunt roused Jake's undisciplined temper. He 
 bored in close, and began smashing at the Englishman's 
 ribs with both hands ; he did some damage, but took a 
 lot out of himself. 
 
 " Steady, matey, steady." 
 
 Snowey's cold, unemotional voice cut its way through 
 the noise of the crowd. The Sergeant heard and under- 
 
 179
 
 180 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 stood the warning; he knew he had to save himself, 
 and let his cast-iron adversary do the forcing. He 
 contented himself with an occasional straight left-hand 
 drive, but for the most part, he simplv parried blo\\ 
 side-stepped ; some found a resting-place on his face or 
 body. 
 
 " Bah, dat Englishman no mak' ze fight, he mak' ze 
 footrace, by Gosh," shouted a Dutchman. 
 
 " Sew your mouth up, squarehead : you're too stupid 
 to fight, an' too fat to run," jeered a New Zealander. 
 
 A novice watching the combatants in the ring, would 
 have given very little for the Britisher's chance of 
 victory ; he appeared to be driven all over the place, 
 but there were plenty in that crowd who saw through 
 his tactic^. 
 
 " He's fightin' to orders," said one man to a neigh- 
 bour. "That wise guy in the Britisher's corner knows 
 the game there's rocks ahead f 'r Diamond Jake ; you 
 wait till the man from Blighty gets the word an' cuts 
 loose." 
 
 "If," remarked the man addressed, in plaintive tonrs, 
 " if the Britisher shifts them sparklers in Jake's mouth, 
 it's me for a bit o' dry-blowin' right here in th' pearly 
 dawn I promised my girl a diamond ring, I did." 
 
 The combatants clinched ; there was a quick wrestle, 
 and Jake cleverly back-heeled the Sergeant and threw 
 him. That ended the round. 
 
 Quick as a flash ButtcrHy and McGlusky picked their 
 man up and carried him to the corner where Snowey 
 was waiting with his knee for a chair, and Ginger with 
 his shirt off, ready to use as a " fan " in lieu of a towt 1. 
 
 No one spoke in that corner, except Snowey
 
 " You're doing fine, matey : just keep on holdin' th' 
 line, an' let Jake keep comin' over th' top. I'll give 
 you th' word when he tires, then at him like a hell cat." 
 
 The Sergeant nodded, and just a shadow of a smile 
 parted his lips. 
 
 Jake's seconds had scented danger and warned their 
 man, but he was of those who love their own way. 
 
 "Ease up, an' let him do some o' th 1 fightin', Jake." 
 
 " Ease up nuthin'. He's beat already," snarled Jake, 
 and he went out to finish matters there and then. 
 
 The Sergeant avoided the savage onslaught, and 
 Ginger laughed mockingly, which had the effect the 
 Irish imp intended it should. In went Jake, his arms 
 going like sledge-hammers, and when he landed, the 
 Englishman reeled from the impact of those labour- 
 hardened fists, and when he reeled Diamond Jake 
 hammered him unmercifully. 
 
 " Oi'm thinkin' our man's bate, sorr." 
 
 " Th' stuff ye dae y'r thinkin' wi' wants puttin* in 
 curl-papers, buckie. Hold y'r whisht, an' let Snowey 
 dae th' thinkin', he's a field-marshal wastit." 
 
 " Bedad, if he lets his army get licked up hill and 
 down dale like this, sorr, Oi'm blinkin' glad Oi ain't 
 wan of his Tommies." 
 
 A good many others in the crowd began to share 
 Ginger's views, for Jake was getting in a lot of 
 punishing work. 
 
 " Holdin' your man back a bit too long, ain't you, 
 mate ? " grumbled a spectator who had gambled on the 
 Britisher. 
 
 "How much have you got on th' Sergeant," 
 demanded the Sharpshooter.
 
 182 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 "Five ounces o' the best dust." 
 
 " I'll take the bet oft' your hands, if you want to 
 hedge." 
 
 "It ain't that," growled the digger, "damn the 
 bet but Fd like to see Jake get a trimmin 1 ; he"s been 
 a lot too fresh o' late."" 
 
 " He's goin 1 ter get it an' soon." 
 Two rounds later that desired event had not hap- 
 pened, and a quaint Cockney voiced his woe to the 
 Sharpshooter. 
 
 " ' Soon ' seems an 'ell of a long way oft', Mister ; do 
 you measure time by 'orseback or or hairship ? " 
 
 Snowey did not reply; he was leaning far forward, 
 watching Diamond Jake, who had just made a 
 desperate effort to end the fray, and was reeling from 
 his exertion. All at once the Sharpshooter's figure 
 stiffened ; his voice, usually so lazily indifferent, came 
 ripping from his throat in an exultant yell. 
 "Now, Sergeant now over the top! " 
 It was soldier calling to soldier in the savage tones 
 each man had learnt to know and to understand in the 
 mad exaltation of war. The thrill and intensity of the 
 Sharpshooter's tones woke the badly-battered Briton 
 like a bugle-blast : all that was dormant in him, all 
 that Snowey had so wisely husbanded for one supreme 
 effort, leapt to the surface in response to the call that 
 heralded the long-waited-for moment. He rushed to 
 the attack like a wolf at a winded stag. Straight 
 from the shoulder his blows fell on Diamond Jake's 
 adamantine face. 
 
 " At him, buckie, twa in th' face an" yin in th' 
 wame. ' '
 
 A BLACK OUTLOOK FOR MAID A 183 
 
 The Sergeant could not have heard the veteran's 
 advice in the uproar, but he did just that " twa in th' 
 face an 1 yin in th 1 wame," nor did he pause when that 
 was accomplished, for as Diamond Jake bent forward, 
 half doubled up by the fierce body-blow, up came the 
 Britisher's fists, fair from the hips first the right, then 
 the left and Jake went flying backwards as if he had 
 been kicked not hit. He almost fell, but whatever 
 his faults, he was game. Dazed and beaten, he faced 
 the onslaught like a man, and he got paid in full 
 measure for all he had served out in the preceding 
 rounds. The two deadly uppercuts had taken nearly 
 all his bull-like strength from him, falling as they did 
 when he had drawn too heavily on the bank of his 
 vitality ; yet he would not acknowledge defeat. 
 Battered, broken, reeling, staggering, he was lashed 
 from ring-side to ring-side, yet ever he raised his grisly 
 face unflinchingly, his courage, his one redeeming 
 quality, standing true to him to the last. And when 
 he fell, he had made more friends than he had ever 
 owned before. 
 
 The Sergeant bent over him to try and lift him to 
 his corner, but the moment the Britisher relaxed his 
 muscles, all the strength went out of him, and he 
 dropped helpless as a babe on his knees beside the man 
 he had beaten ; and it was McGlusky and Snowey who 
 carried Jake into the hotel, whilst Ginger and Butterfly 
 performed the same office for the badly-used-up Briton. 
 
 A wee while later, as McGlusky stood combing his 
 beard with his fingers in the bar, there came to him 
 that large, heavy Dutchman who had jeered at the 
 Sergeant during the battle. Now he was all smiles and
 
 184 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 effusiveness. He held out a hand like a ham. Mac 
 looked at it as he might have looked at something he 
 had seen in a dream and wanted to forget. 
 
 " Be gosh, ve von der fight, Mynheer, eh ?" 
 
 He pushed his hand still more invitingly in the 
 veteran's direction. McGlusky slowly took his pipe 
 from his mouth, and, using the Dutchman's hand as a 
 tray, deliberately knocked the hot ashes of his tobacco 
 into the extended palm, causing the instant withdrawal 
 of the offer of amity. Then Mac pushed his whiskered 
 face unpleasantly close to the clean-shaven visage of 
 the Hollander. 
 
 " A wad na say a theeng ta hurt th" feelin's o' a 
 babe, ye twa-faced son o' a waterspout. Y Ve on oor 
 side th 1 noo because we won, but A ken fine which side 
 ye were on durin' th' fechtin'. Y're o" 1 them tha 1 wad 
 hunt wi' a Kaiser an' run wi' a King." He spun the 
 heavy man right round. " A'm meanin' no disrespec', 
 but y're no' welcome." 
 
 He shot out his foot, the heavy man plunged forward, 
 and went head first through the harp of the Italian, 
 who had resumed his playing. The Italian rose in a 
 fury, and seizing McGlusky by the whiskers, began to 
 pluck him as if he thought he had hold of the German 
 Eagle. Mac got himself free as best he could, but did 
 not lift a hand to the Italian. 
 
 u A'm no' gawn ta fecht ye," he said ruefully, " f r 
 A'm feared when A kicked yon cheese-faced ' inan-o'- 
 both-sides ' through y'r harp A didua raise a melody, 
 but discord. Dinna greet ower y'r harp, signer, A '11 
 mak' ye a set o' Scottish pipes, an' gin ye can play 'cm, 
 ye'll bring mair tears ta th' eyes o' folk wi' yin skirl
 
 A BLACK OUTLOOK FOR MAIDA 185 
 
 than ye wad wi' yon tum-tummin' dom thing o' many 
 strings in a year o' blue moons." 1 
 
 On their way back to camp, Butterfly remarked 
 
 " We've shore had an amazin' good time ter-night 
 specially th' Sergeant." 
 
 " Na sae bad nae sae bad ; we'll gang again coom 
 Saturday nicht, an 1 maybe All get a chance ta say a 
 few ceevil theengs ta Mister Rooney." 
 
 " Oi'm thinkin' he's fightin' shy o 1 yez, sorr." 
 
 " A wad no 1 say tha', wee mannie, it's no' fair ta tak' 
 away a man's character, though A'm o' th 1 opeenion 
 A ha' seen better things than him sittin' on top' o' an 
 organ-grinder's musical equipage beggin' f r pennies." 
 
 For two days the Sergeant was too stiff and sore to 
 do any work on his claim, but on the morning of the 
 third day he started to shovel earth out of the hole he 
 had been digging in before he went to Canvas Town. 
 He tossed the loose earth which he had previously 
 broken down and left unshovelled into his dry-blower, 
 and then set the machine in motion. Suddenly he 
 uttered a yell that brought all of his mates running 
 from their claims to his side. 
 
 " Wha' is it, buckie ? " 
 
 " Gold ! " gasped the Sergeant. " Gold look at it ! " 
 
 They looked, and saw a pretty collection of small 
 nuggets in the upper and coarser sieve, and a nice rim 
 of fine gold in the "ripples" on the lower and very 
 fine sieve. 
 
 McGlusky put a big kindly hand on the ex-soldier's 
 shoulder, and said with a smile 
 
 " Gude f r ye, ma buckie ; y'r luck ha 1 foond ye ; may 
 it stay wi' ye a' y'r days, but dinna screech tha' way ;
 
 186 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 it's dom fine, but it's no' th' treasure-house o' King 
 Solomon ye've foond. If th' ' boys' on th' ither claims 
 hear ye yell, they'll be comin' doon expectin' ta see a 
 hunner-ounce nugget, an' they'll laugh." 
 
 The Sergeant calmed under his tone, for he knew 
 how phlegmatically most of the Anzac diggers accepted 
 both good and bad fortune. 
 
 " It's my first decent strike, Mac, and and, by Jove, 
 it is lovely." 
 
 "A ken, A ken ; A yelped like a puppy wi' a burnt 
 paw masel' when A mad' ma first strike o' th' pure 
 metal. It's gran' stuff', an' it's clean, won frae th' soil 
 wi'oot cheatin' or lyin' or any un'erhan' work." 
 
 Ginger eyed the new find as if he'd like to eat it, 
 but he said 
 
 " Och, cut that out, sorr ; ut's th' root av all evil, no 
 matter where you get it." Then, fingering the large-4 
 nugget in an absent-minded fashion, he remarked : 
 " Bedad, Sergeant darlin', shall Oi wear this on me 
 watch-chain as a cha-r-m, to remember yez by ?" 
 
 Snowey had drifted in an apparently aimless sort 
 of way to the side of the hole where the Sergeant 
 had found the gold. As he looked around him, his 
 keen eyes noticed the clean-cut imprint of a woman's 
 boot in the soft earth. Slowly he turned his eyes in 
 the direction of Maida I^amarde's tent, and saw the girl 
 watching him. Their eyes met, then very slowly and 
 deliberately Snowey obliterated the track of the womaifs 
 boot in the soil by passing his own boot over it. 
 Then he went to the Sergeant and, extending his hand, 
 said 
 
 " Pard, y'r luck's in better'n you guess." And then
 
 A BLACK OUTLOOK FOR MAIDA 187 
 
 he nearly stunned the ex-soldier by adding: "An 1 I 
 blinkin" 1 well don't know if I oughter congratulate you 
 or not." 
 
 " What do you make of that, Butterfly ? " queried the 
 Sergeant, as the Sharpshooter lounged off to his claim. 
 " Dunno," replied the Yankee. " Tryin' ter under- 
 stand Snowey is like tryin ' ter work out a cypher 
 message written by a shell-shock patient sufferm 1 from 
 D.T.'s an 1 a big bite from a love microbe, but whatever 
 he means, he means with all his heart bank on that, 
 pardner." 
 
 The Sergeant stood looking thoughtfully at his gold ; 
 then, speaking to himself, he murmured 
 
 " Understanding Snowey is a bit of a puzzle, an' 
 Butterfly's explanation don't seem to make it much 
 easier." 
 
 On the following Saturday evening, the Tiger Claim 
 crowd went into Canvas Town, and McGlusky took 
 with him a new set of home-made " pipes."" It was his 
 fond belief that of all music between heaven and earth, 
 the bagpipes was the most enjoyable. As soon as the 
 party arrived at The Three Sparrows Hostel, Mac 
 volunteered to give the crowd a musical treat. His 
 offer was received with acclamation. Tucking the bag 
 under one arm, and thrusting the chanter in his mouth, 
 the big fellow proceeded to fill the world with a 
 most awesome din. Once when he finished a selection 
 and looked round for applause, Ginger demanded 
 information. 
 
 " Be me soul, sorr, what was that hullabaloo ye just 
 threw on th' atmosphere ? Was ut an imitation av a 
 mob av perishm"" cattle callin' f r rain ? "
 
 188 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 " A thocht ye had an ear f r music, mamiie ; it was 
 The Plovers of the Forest." 
 
 " Is there any more av ut, sorr ? " 
 
 McGlasky beamed all over his face. 
 
 " Wad ye like it ower again, buckie ? If so, here 
 goes." 
 
 He sprang up, and began pacing up and down the 
 bar, his pipes shrieking and wailing wofully. Scotch- 
 men all over the camp heard the din, and straightway 
 forsook business and pleasure, and crowded to The 
 Three Sparrows, for the pipes will draw a Scot from 
 the edge of the grave. They came in joyous groups, 
 eyes aglow and heads up, and they crowded every one 
 else out of the bar, except the piper's immediate 
 friends. 
 
 The pioneer played and kept on playing until the 
 sweat rolled down his face, which had grown red as any 
 peony with his exertions. Some one tossed a couple of 
 sticks on the middle of the floor and crossed them in 
 imitation of broadswords. A man sprang forward and 
 began to dance, and he danced well, placing his feet 
 nicely in the spaces between the imitation swords, 
 whirling, leaping, clapping his hands together and 
 snapping his fingers over his head. Faster and faster 
 Mac played, and faster flew the feet of the dancer. 
 At last, with a flourish like the screech of a doomed 
 soul heading for the pit, Mac brought the dance to 
 a close, and then the liquor began to fly. Toasts were 
 drunk to "Auld Reekie," and the bonny lassies over 
 the water were not forgotten, nor any other toast that 
 would justify a drink. Like boys who had broken 
 bounds, the Scotchmen gave themselves up to pleasure,
 
 A BLACK OUTLOOK FOR MAIDA 189 
 
 and the happiest of them all was the grim, gaunt 
 man with the pipes. 
 
 " Feelin' good, Old Timer ? " 
 
 "A'm on th' varry threshold o' th' kingdom o' 
 happiness, Snowey." 
 
 Forgotten were the years of danger and toil ; broad jest 
 and rough-edged badinage flew from mouth to mouth. 
 
 "Any little thing I can do, Mac, to help pile th' 
 bliss up ? You can shore count me in." 
 
 "A never kenned th' day or nicht ye failed ma, 
 Snowey. A'd be as happy as a Turk who'd had a 
 bran' new wife sent ta him by post on his birthday, 
 eef A had yin theeng th' noo." 
 
 " If it's in this camp, you name it, old mate, an' 
 if we don't get it, it's because an earthquake wouldn't 
 shift it, Butterfly ?" 
 
 " Shore thing," cooed the Yank. " If it's anything 
 a couple of men can lift, loot or buy, dry or wet, you 
 christen it now, McGlusky, an' leave th' developin' 
 process ter me an' Snowey." 
 
 " Eef A had a haggis, boys, th' full moon wad be 
 shinin' doon on Jamie de McGlusky." 
 
 "Haggis?" The Sharpshooter looked at 'the Yank 
 perplexedly. "Is it a new kind o' bagpipe, or or 
 something to eat, Butterfly ? " 
 
 " Search me ; I never hunted any animal o' that 
 name." 
 
 " Och, yez don't know everything in Columbus 
 country, then," jeered Ginger. " Oi'll make yez wan, 
 sorr ; if Oi can't get th' inside linin' av a sheep Fr 
 th' dish, sorr, Oi'll borrer a horse, but yez shall have y'r 
 haggis for supper Oi'll cook ut."
 
 190 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 " Ye will ?utf, ye blastie. Dae ye think A've forgot 
 th' yin ye mad" f r me in Egypt ? A can taste it yet." 
 
 Ginger's grin was like the birth of a new day. 
 
 " Och, that wan ? Oi had ter use what Oi cud get 
 fr y'r auld haggis; ut wasn't horse, sorr, that time. 
 ut was camel wan that had bruk down under a 
 transport load an' had ter be shot ter save ut's life ; 
 ut was yerself said ut was a pity ter waste ut, sorr." 
 
 "A didn't theenk A was goin 1 ta eat it, ye wee 
 blastie." 
 
 Mac spat viciously on the floor, as he recalled the 
 memory. 
 
 Some one shouted for more music just then, and at 
 the same time Butterfly caught Annie Laurie making a 
 sign to Ginger which the red-headed image did not 
 The good-natured young giant pushed his way to the 
 bar and seizing a favourable opportunity, spoke to 
 the young woman. 
 
 "Anything I can do, Miss, ter help a lady in 
 distress ? " 
 
 She smiled. 
 
 " You're Ginger's mate, aren't you ? " 
 
 "One of 'em, Mi-. 
 
 "Tell him I have a couple of hours off, and I'm 
 going to the dance-hall." 
 
 Butterfly took the message, and Snowey supplemented 
 it by saying 
 
 "Suppose the four of us do a drift in that direc- 
 tion ? The Old Timer's anchored here for a spell." 
 
 The rest fell in with this idea, and the Sharpshooter 
 passed the news on to the veteran. 
 
 " We're goin' ter sample th' dance-hall, Mac."
 
 A BLACK OUTLOOK FOR MAIDA 191 
 
 " Dae ye want ma ? ' ' 
 
 " \Vant you all right, but not bad enough ter fight 
 all these Scotties f r you, an' we'd have to if we looted 
 their piper." 
 
 " Aye, they've a gran' ear f r music, th' Scotch." 
 
 The dance -hall had been made gay with flags of all 
 nations ; at one end was the inevitable bar ; the other 
 end was decorated, as Butterfly phrased it, with the 
 orchestra three fiddles and a flute. A stage had been 
 extemporised for this department of the entertainment, 
 by laying a few rough planks on top of some upturned 
 beer barrels. 
 
 After a cursory glance round, Snowey voiced his 
 opinion concerning the floor 
 
 " It's not as good f r dancin' on as some we saw in 
 Italy, but it's more enterprisin' it's full o' hills and 
 hollows. Th' man who laid this floor must ha 1 been a 
 mountaineer an' was dreamin' of home while he worked." 
 
 A happy, care-free crowd surged up and down the 
 hall to the strains of the fiddles and the flute. The 
 musicians did not keep very good time, each went 
 blissfully on his own appointed way. 
 
 " That's a democratic orchestra," gurgled Butterfly, 
 " th' fiddles take th' dancers up th' hills, an' th' flute 
 escorts 'em down." 
 
 " Bedad, yez can't complain about that, ye grousin' 
 Yank ; y're gettin' variety, if y're gettin' nothin' else, 
 wid three instruments playin' th' same piece, each to a 
 different time, yez can't fail ter be in step once in 
 a while, can yez ? " 
 
 Most of the couples were males, but there was a fair 
 sprinkling of the softer sex.
 
 192 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 Snowey was watching a door over which hung the flag 
 of Australia. 
 
 "What's th' magnet in that direction, pardner? 
 You've been watchin' that door as if it was a free drinks 
 Elysium. 71 
 
 "Dunno yet, Yank, perhaps it's a lost luggage 
 asylum, but I have an idea germinating under my 
 hat that's where th 1 ladies enter, an' I'm goin' ter make 
 a bee line f r it as soon as I hear th' shudder of a 
 skirt" 
 
 The door opened, the flag of Australia was pushed 
 aside, and a girl stood in the opening. The Sharp- 
 shooter made a swift forward move, then checked as 
 suddenly as he had started, for Maida Lamarde was 
 facing him. 
 
 " Up to you, Sergeant."" 
 
 " No, you go ahead, Snowey ; my face won't bear 
 inspection yet at close quarters, thanks to Diamond 
 Jake," 
 
 Snowey crossed the hall in the girl's direction, and at 
 the same moment a hand fell on Ginger's shoulder. 
 Facing round, he looked straight into the merry eyes of 
 Annie Laurie. At times the Irish lad could be very 
 rapid : without a word he slipped an arm around the 
 girl's waist, and whirled her into the throng of laughing, 
 stumping, jesting humanity. The girl was a good 
 dancer, and Ginger had music in his feet, and the sheer 
 joy of the dance was with them both, A tri-ss of her 
 wayward hair lifted in the whirl of the dance, fell 
 against his cheek. She put up a hand to throw it bark. 
 
 " Lave ut," he whispered, " lave ut where ut is. ut's 
 got th' fragrance av somethin' dropped from hivin."
 
 A BLACK OUTLOOK FOR MAIDA 193 
 
 " Wrong, Ginger,' 1 she laughed, " it's brilliantine you 
 can smell." 
 
 " Is ut, honny ? " he murmured in her ear. " Faith, 
 Oi didn't know th 1 angels used ut. v 
 
 " Little devil," she retorted, " you've learnt in a swift 
 school, and leamt young.' 11 
 
 But the clasp of her hand in his grew warmer. 
 
 Meanwhile, two men were standing in front of Maida 
 Lamarde ; one was very tall with as fine a figure as a 
 woman's eyes might wish to rest upon, and a face that 
 made all others in the dance-hall seem plain to the 
 verge of ugliness ; the other was the Sharpshooter of 
 the old Anzac brigade. 
 
 "I think I was first in the field, Miss Lamarde." 
 
 "Not by an inch," replied Snowey, "but Miss 
 Lamarde will choose." 
 
 " I think this gentleman came a moment before you 
 did you paused, you know, after you started." 
 
 " First or last makes no difference, Miss, since you 
 have made your choice. I guess I'll go and help fill in 
 th' scenery till another lady arrives." 
 
 With a slight inclination of his head, Snowey drew 
 back and let Maida pass with the other man. 
 
 " Beat by an eyelash that time, son." 
 
 "No, Butterfly, I was beat by a face, an' a damn 
 good-lookin' face too did you see it ? " 
 
 " Couldn't from here, too many gyratin' samples o' 
 both sexes in between. Any thin' interestin' about th' 
 face that beat you, son, except th' looks ? " 
 
 " Not a heap, only that it bears th' name o' Rooney 
 f r th' present." 
 
 "There shore will be somethin' doin' if McGlusky
 
 194 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 comes here ter browse on th' beauty of Canvas Town. 
 I'm sorry, all th' same, Snowey, the girl gave you th" 
 frozen mitt fr th' sake of a hot air-bubble like 
 Room-y." 
 
 " I didn't like bein' put in a comer an' labelled ' Not 
 Wanted,' an' that's a fact. I haven't got any yearnin's 
 fr Mister Uooney." 
 
 "Cut him out for the next dance, Snowey," inter- 
 polated the Sergeant. 
 
 " Don't think I'd have a dog's chance ; he's as good- 
 lookin' as th' devil, an' girls mostly follow their ey 
 Then the Sharpshooter looked very hard at the Sergeant, 
 and said : " Your beauty sure has been bumped con- 
 siderable by Diamond Jake : all th' same, if I was 
 bettin' on the event, I'd back you, Sergeant, to beat 
 Rooney for th' caressin' stakes with Maida Lamarde." 
 
 The Englishman laughed. 
 
 ** Let go of my leg, Snowey." 
 
 " I mean what I say : I'd gamble on your chance. 
 Are you fond o' th' girl ? " 
 
 "Bet she never gives me a thought," replied the 
 Englishman. 
 
 Butterfly chipped into the conversation. 
 
 " If you opine Snowey has hold of your laig, Sergeant, 
 you're treein' th' wrong 'possum. If there was any 
 bettin' on th' event, I'd shore stack my dust on the card 
 Snowey has just throwwl down." 
 
 " What are you fellows gettin' at r " 
 
 A flush of colour was showing through the tan on 
 the Britisher's face, in spite of Diamond Jake's 
 handiwork. 
 
 "Gettin' at nothin'," was the Yankee's reply, "but
 
 A BLACK OUTLOOK FOR MAIDA 195 
 
 son, if Maida Lamarde ain't made o' mud, she must 
 have sized you up f r a man long ago." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 4^" Well," drawled the American, " it ain't my play 
 ter draw th' curtains from domestic affairs as a general 
 rule, but since you're askin 1 fr reasons, an' you're our 
 pard, an' ace high at that, I'll tell you why. Who is it 
 goes o' nights with his little axe an' knocks down scrub 
 timber, an' splits it f r camp firewood by th' light o' th' 
 moon, an' then walks on tiptoe an' stacks it near th' 
 girl's tent?" 
 
 The Englishman's face was very red now. " I don't 
 know," he growled. 
 
 " Askin' y'r pardon, son, but you're a liar." This 
 shot came from Snowey, who added : " Who lugged the 
 girl's food supplies all the way out from Canvas Town on 
 his back when the storekeeper was sick, an' lied like 
 Ananias to th' girl, sayin' a camel-man had brought th' 
 goods while she was away lookin' fr her mare, eh ? " 
 
 " Pity you chaps can't find something better to do 
 with your time than to watch me," growled the 
 Sergeant. 
 
 "Bless your pretty life," answered the Sharpshooter, 
 " we didn't watch you. Englishman, but we watch 
 Maida Lamarde's tent to see no harm comes to her, 
 because we once accepted hospitality at her house, an 1 
 when an Australian breaks bread under a roof, everything 
 there is sacred to him or he's a dog." 
 
 "That's so, I've found that out," commented the 
 Yank. " If you want ter tie any Anzac up tighter 
 than you cud tie him with a lawsuit, invite him to take 
 a meal, an' when he's sat below y'r salt, he's yours. It's
 
 196 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 th' best blinkin' quality the Anzacs have their belief 
 in th' sacredness of hospitality; they knock th' Ai 
 cold at it. I lived in Australia an' New Zealand before 
 th' war, an' I know." 
 
 NVlmt's this got to do with Maida Lamarde? " 
 "Just this, Sergeant " it was Snowey taking up the 
 parable now "just this, son ; while we watched 
 Maida's tent, we saw 2/ou, an' saw what you were doing 
 for her, an' if that girl ain't wise to your kindness, she's 
 a heap slower than I take her to be, an' if she didn't 
 like you, she'd have stopped you, you can bet your 
 Sunday shirt on that : no Anzac lass takes a favour from 
 a man she has no use for if she does, she ain't a woman, 
 she's somethin' you dig out of a mine." 
 
 " Perhaps she has a sort of liking for me, boys, looks 
 on me as a brother, perhaps." 
 
 " Br-o-th-er." The inflexion in the Sharpshoot. 
 voice was indescribable. " You go an' sing that cradle 
 song ter th' kids, Sergeant ; I didn't expect that kind of 
 dope from you, it's th' sort of soft goods I'd expect that 
 devil Ginger ter bring me on a plate when I ask him 
 about Annie Laurie. Now you go an' cut Rooney out ; 
 he's had three dances with Maida, an* he's sittin' as 
 close to her now as a hatchin' hen to its eggs. Go on. 
 Here comes Ginger." 
 
 The Sergeant crossed the hall, and Maida with a 
 movement of her hand made room for him to sit l>eside 
 her, a fact which did not seem to add to the joy of 
 Mr. Rooney, who was on her other side. 
 
 Butterfly looked at the three for a moment, then 
 
 u A pearl between two shells," he remarked. 
 
 " H'm," murmured the Sharpshooter, as he followed
 
 A BLACK OUTLOOK FOR MAIDA 197 
 
 the Yankee's gaze, " H'm one shell looks as if it had 
 seen rough weather, but we know it's good stuff, eh, 
 Yank ? As f'r th' other, it's got all the polish, 
 but " 
 
 Snowey kicked one heel against the instep of his other 
 foot, a habit of his when words seemed superfluous. 
 
 Ginger came up, perspiring but happy. 
 
 " Why ain't yez dancin' ? " 
 
 Butterfly grinned. 
 
 " We've hired ourselves out f r th' night as ornaments 
 ter th' scenery f r this outfit ; besides, son, it ain't every 
 quadruped that has hay runnin' after it." 
 
 "Be th 1 soul av me, Butterfly, if yez call Annie 
 Laurie a a bundle av hay " 
 
 " I shore didn't say a bundle, Ginger." 
 
 By Mary, she's a drame. Oi never danced wid a 
 girl like her ; th' French girls are light an' aisy, th' 
 Italians are as nate on their fate as birds on a bough, 
 but y'r Anzac girls och, Snowey darlint, they could 
 dance on cobwebs an' divil a thread av ut would they 
 break. Oi never danced wid a drame before, but Oi've 
 done ut now, Oi " 
 
 The Irish lad looked into the Sharpshooter's face, 
 and the expression he saw there halted his rhapsody. 
 Snowey 's lips had curved ever so slightly, his heavily 
 lidded eyes had almost closed ; his clean-shaven, lean> 
 bronzed face looked the epitome of silent, sarcastic 
 mirth. 
 
 " Spake, ye divil, spake ; don't luk at me like a 
 Chinese god bustin' wid a bad joke." 
 
 Then the Sharpshooter spoke. 
 
 " Kid, you make me tired. I've heard you usin' them
 
 198 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 same terms of extravagance concernin' female varieties 
 in every blessexl country we've been in. You're Irish, 
 an' you can't help it. Th' Irish can do most things 
 better'n most men, but two things they never oughter 
 come within gunshot of." 
 
 "An* what's th' name av thim two thii 
 demanded Ginger hotly. 
 
 "Politics an' petticoats, son. One drives them 
 plumb crazy, and they drive every one else loco with 
 the other." 
 
 " Och, cut out thim matters av high policy, an' 
 gyrate round this hall once wid Annie Laurie." 
 
 "Tired of her yourself, kid, or has she given you a 
 browsin' order ? " 
 
 " She did an' she didn't. Ut's this way : Oi danced 
 three times runnin' wid her, an 1 th' 'boys' got mad 
 about ut, an' said Oi'd be adjacent to a fight if Oi 
 danced wan more, until some one else had a turn. ( )i 
 tuk me belt up a hole ter get ready f r th' trouble, an 1 
 she said : ' Honey, if you fight over me, Oi'm goin' 
 home ter Th' Three Sparrows an' me little bed, an' Oi'll 
 never dance wid you again.' So I left 'em to ut f r 
 a bit." 
 
 The orchestra began again, and the flute hit the high 
 notes, and Butterfly exclaimed 
 
 " Bully f r th' Sergeant, he's got his arms full o' 
 heaven." 
 
 " Manin' Maida Lamarde ? " sneered Ginger. " By 
 th' whiskers Oi'm goin' ter have when I grow up, th' 
 Sergeant's welcome to that same hivin ; she's th' 
 picture av bad luck, an' she'll bring a peck av trouble 
 ter th' Englishman yet. Do yez mind th' red colour
 
 A BLACK OUTLOOK FOR MAIDA 199 
 
 av her hand th' day we came ter th' Tiger Claim ? An' 
 do yez mind it was th' Sergeant she shuk hands wid 
 that day?" 
 
 " Fade out ; you're as superstitious as an East 
 African nigger. Go an' buy a gollywog to change 
 your luck. Fact is, kid, you're not fit ter be a citizen 
 of this enlightened country, unless we petrify you an' 
 stand you at a street corner for a postal pillar-box." 
 
 Butterfly smiled audibly as he listened to the 
 Sharpshooter's tirade. 
 
 " Thanks for illuminatin 1 my ignorance, pard," he 
 murmured. " I was always some puzzled to know what 
 Ginger's capacious mouth was built for ; your pillar-box 
 idea dispels my darkness. Don't petrify him when he's 
 smilin' at Annie Laurie, or he'll only do f r th' 
 newspaper an' magazine post." 
 
 An oath broke from the much-commented-upon 
 mouth of Ginger, but it was not called forth by his 
 comrades' broad banter. Mr. Rooney was gliding by 
 to the strains of a waltz, and his arm encircled the 
 waist of the lassie from The Three Sparrows. 
 
 "He can dance, an' he gets th' pick o' th' bunch 
 every time." That was Snowey's verdict as he watched 
 Rooney. A moment later he announced his future 
 movements : " Boys, when this dance ends, I'm goin' 
 ter butt in ; I'm beginnin' ter look on Mr. Rooney as a 
 public nuisance, an' I don't want no help, savee ? " 
 
 The glance he shot at his comrades was of the order 
 that Ginger described as " Wan av Snowey's stand-off- 
 th'-grass-an'-be-damned-to-you " variety. 
 
 The waltz was about half-way through its agony at 
 the hands of the orchestra, when the Sergeant came
 
 200 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 abreast of the three comrades with Mai da I^amarde in 
 his arms. Snowey made a sudden swift signal, and the 
 Englishman stopped dead. 
 
 " What's the matter ? " was Mai da's sharp query. 
 
 " Don't know, but Snowey signalled." 
 
 " Do you always obey him ': " 
 
 " It's not a question of obeying ; he's my pal, an' if 
 you knew him, you'd know that means a heap." 
 
 The Sharpshooter stepped up to them. 
 
 " Miss Larnarde, will you finish this wait/ with me ? 
 I've a reason for asking, and I'll explain to the Sergeant 
 later." 
 
 " Sure thing, Snowey." 
 
 The Englishman handed the girl to the ex-Anzac, 
 and she, with a puzzled expression, looked into her new 
 partner's i 
 
 " You're not the sort to do this for nothing." 
 
 " No, I'm not that sort, Miss Maida." 
 
 The next moment she was being whirled away by an 
 arm as flexible as steel, yet strangely gentle in spite of 
 its strength. Ginger rather fancied he could dance, so 
 did the Sergeant, and Butterfly Brown, as he worded 
 it, had an idea he could "gyrate some," but Maida 
 Lamarde soon knew that she was in the hands of a man 
 who had all the mystery and passion of the poetry of 
 motion at his command. As Maida afterwards ex- 
 pressed it: "He did not dance, he melted into the 
 music, and took his partner with him." 
 
 Only once did he pause, and that was for the pur{> 
 of addressing a lo\v-spoken order to the orchestra. 
 
 "Keep this dance goin', boys, till every one drops 
 out but me an' my partner, an' I'll drown you in whisky
 
 A BLACK OUTLOOK FOR MAIDA 201 
 
 and bring you back to life with a couple of ounces of 
 gold-dust between you." 
 
 The flute and the fiddles nodded ready acquiescence ; 
 they were used to strange requests from their patrons, 
 and it took a good deal to surprise them. Once when 
 the "flute" had asked big Oscar the Dane for a light 
 for a cigarette between dances, Oscar had twisted a 
 bank-note into a spiral and obliged him, yet when the 
 Dane had first arrived in Australia, he had worked as a 
 wharf labourer, and worked hard, and judging from the 
 pace he was going, and the brains at his disposal, would 
 probably end his sojourn in the country in some similarly 
 .exalted position in life. 
 
 As the dance proceeded, one by one the wearied 
 couples began to drop out, and straightway breasted 
 the bar for liquid refreshment, and champagne corks 
 "popped" as they flew, until it was like being in the 
 midst of a miniature barrage. The first contingent of 
 couples to surrender the floor were "bucks," as two 
 male dancers were styled. This left plenty of room for 
 the lucky few who had daughters of Eve to dance with, 
 and they gladly made the most of their opportunities. 
 Nearly all the softer sex were fine dancers, for that is 
 an art in which the daughters of Anzac excel, but the 
 best on the floor that night were Annie Laurie and 
 Maida Lamarde. As for Mr. Rooney, whatever country 
 bred him, he was a dancer, and there was that in his 
 movements that would have told any travelled man of 
 the world that he had at some period of his career 
 lived and danced in Vienna ; all that perfect training 
 and teaching could do had been done for him. Snowey 
 had not the nameless " something " which speaks for
 
 202 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 years of tuition, but he had native grace, and now that 
 he was letting himself go, a fund of diablerie that few 
 who knew him would have suspected. Of set purpose 
 he had started out to match himself with Rooney, and 
 soon the other man had sensed the rivalry, and at fir>t 
 seemed amused, but as the minutes sped by, he realised 
 that this slender, fair-haired, boyish-looking man \\as a 
 rival he could not afford to hold too lightly. 
 
 At last only three or four couples were in possession 
 of the floor, and the rest of the men and women \\ere 
 watching eagerly, the only non-observant folk being the 
 bar-tenders who kept the liquor flowing merrily. All 
 eyes were on Rooney and Snowey and their partners. 
 Annie Laurie was known to all, and a general favourite ; 
 only a few knew Maida Lamarde, but they soon spread 
 the news that she was the girl who owned and worked 
 the rich claim in the small valley. 
 
 " Who's the guy with her ? " asked Brannigan, the 
 man who ran the best-patronised gambling-hell on the 
 field, of Duncan Rose the wrestler. 
 
 " Oh, one of the Tiger Claim crowd ; he seconded the 
 Englishman against Diamond Jake the other night he 
 knows that game, you can take it from me." 
 
 "He knows this game too," replied Brannigan, "he 
 can dance like the devil. I used to be good on a floor 
 myself, but not his kind of good he's away beyond par." 
 
 Snowey, whatever purpose he had in view, was 
 certainly bent on challenging comparison between 
 himself and Rooney. He worked his way past the 
 other couples, and got close to Rooney and Annie 
 Laurie. Once or twice he caught the eyes of Rooney's 
 partner fixed on his face, and when their eyes met
 
 A BLACK OUTLOOK FOR MAIDA 203 
 
 Annie smiled her merry smile, to which he responded 
 with a friendly little nod, and what Ginger termed " a 
 half-partm 1 av th' lips like a tulip tryin' ter bedacent." 
 
 Once Snowey whispered to his partner : " Tired ? " 
 
 She looked up like a girl wakened from a dream, for 
 Snowey's dancing was hypnotic. 
 
 "No, I could go on for ever with you." 
 
 Something in the tones of her voice, something too, 
 perhaps, in the thrill of her clinging figure, made the 
 Sharpshooter knit his brows, and the grimness that at 
 times marred his looks crept into his face. 
 
 " Not tired ? " he was answering Maida now. " Then 
 dance till you drop." 
 
 She knew then for a certainty there was something 
 more than a mere dance afoot, but she only settled 
 herself down more snugly in the hollow of his arm, and 
 let herself drift on the tide of his magnetism. 
 
 Never did two girls dance with a greater difference 
 than Maida Lamarde and Annie Laurie. The latter 
 was all light and fire, all sparkle and gaiety ; to every 
 movement of Rooney she responded like magic, her 
 eyes were sparkling, her white teeth showing between 
 moist red lips. Maida moved and looked for the time 
 being like a dream woman set to music. 
 
 Soon the crowd sensed something out of the common ; 
 they realised that a duel was in progress of which the 
 dance was only an item. 
 
 " Where does this chap Rooney come from ? " 
 
 A digger asked this of Brannigan the gambler, who 
 was reputed to know all there was to know about 
 anybody of note on the field. 
 
 " Search me."
 
 204 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 " Stranger, eh ?" 
 
 * Ye.s ; but he's hot stuff." 
 
 "Well, that fair-haired conundrum dancin" with th' 
 gold-claim girl don't look like any infant brought up 
 on a spoon, to me." 
 
 "No; an' if there ain't a bottle o' th' best brewin' 
 between them two sharps, write me down as a 
 missionary." 
 
 As a missionary was about the last thing on earth 
 any one who knew Brannigau would take him for, his 
 judgment was accepted. 
 
 The Sergeant with his frie.ids had been watching the 
 strange dance, a queer look of pain growing in the 
 Englishman's eyes as he noticed how Maida Lamarde 
 clung to her partner. As for Ginger, even his unbridled 
 vocabulary could not do justice to his feelings as he 
 watched the unbounded delight expressed on Annie 
 Laurie's face. 
 
 " Oi'm through wid th' hen persuasion, Oi am, after 
 this, bad cess to "em. When wan av 'em seems ter be 
 runnhr after you, she's only runnin' away from some 
 other man ter make him run after her. They're suckled 
 on decate, an" 1 if th' truth's in them, you want a mine- 
 sweeper ter help yez locate ut." 
 
 Butterfly, being quite heart-free, could not help 
 quizzing the impulsive lad. 
 
 k> Meanin' Annie Laurie, kid : " 
 
 " Who else wud Oi be meanin' ? Luk at th' splay- 
 futted Jezebel, she axin' Rooney wid her eyes if he'll 
 marry her by special licence, or or jump a broom an' 
 save th' marriage }\ <-.." 
 
 " Splay-footed, Ginger ? You shore can't see straight ;
 
 A BLACK OUTLOOK FOR MAIDA 205 
 
 she could dance on cobwebs an' never put her hoof 
 through an' spoil th' pattern." 
 
 Ginger snarled as his former rhapsodies were flung in 
 his teeth. 
 
 " Come to the bar and have a drink." 
 
 It was the voice of the Sergeant that made the 
 soothing suggestion, and the three pushed their way 
 through the crowd. As they did so, a friendly voice 
 queried 
 
 " Say, pal, what's the name of your chum who's 
 dancing with the gold-claim girl ? " 
 
 "We call him Snowey f'r short," responded the 
 Sergeant. 
 
 " No relation to Snowey of the Anzacs, I guess, eh r " 
 
 "Same chap." 
 
 " Is that a straight wire or a leg pull ? " 
 
 "Straight wire." 
 
 "Jumping Sarah, if that's so he's top-hole; we've 
 all read about him." 
 
 " He is top-hole ; if you've bred anything out this 
 way better than him, I haven't met 'em." 
 
 "Looks a good 'un, an' say, if it's not divin* too 
 deep inter th' inner sanctuary o' private ideas, what's 
 his little game to-night ? We can all see he's signallin' 
 the good-lookm 1 guy they call Rooney not to mix his 
 drinks too promiscuous Fr fear his feet stray where 
 trouble grows." 
 
 " You think he's askin' f r trouble with Rooney ? " 
 
 " Well, mate, not exactly askin' f'r trouble, but sort 
 o' signallin' th' handsome guy that trouble is a plant 
 that grows in these parts, if he's in need of a little f r 
 immediate consumption."
 
 206 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 " Well, I don't know any more than you do ; Sno\\ vy 
 don't often take any one into his confidence." 
 
 "Tell me, mate, can he fight? If he's really Anzac 
 Snowey, we all got his measure with a gun or a bay'nit, 
 but can he shift things with his hands ?" 
 
 " Him ? He's a lamb, Mary's little lamb was a 
 harpooned alligator compared to him, for fiereen 
 
 This contribution to the conversation came from 
 Butterfly who was handing the drinks round. 
 
 The friendly, but too inquisitive, stranger looked into 
 the American's none too handsome face, and seemed to 
 study it for quite a while, then he unbosomed himself 
 
 "Stranger, you're a Yank by your accent, an' you 
 may be th' fountain head o' the eternal truth you're 
 about unhandsome enough for somethin' like that." 
 
 Butterfly, who could stand as much rough banter 
 without losing his temper as any man between the 
 North Pole and the nether regions, only chortled 
 
 " Don't laig-rope yer remarks concern in' my facial 
 adornments, old son, f r fear o' ploughin' up my feelin's. 
 I'm rather proud o' my looks ; folks out home said I 
 resembled Abe Lincoln on th' outside o' my head." 
 
 "That so?" responded the Australian. "Then, by 
 gosh, Mister Abe Lincoln must ha' been th' ugly 
 ducklin' o' somebody's family." 
 
 " Did any sculptor ever ax yerself ter sit f r him as 
 a model?" rasped Ginger, whose temper was always 
 just a wee bit touchy. 
 
 " Yes one." 
 
 "Then, by Mary, he must ha' been modellin' front- 
 door knockers f r a p'leece-station or or a poor- 
 house."
 
 A BLACK OUTLOOK FOR MAIDA 207 
 
 The three comrades pushed away from the bar to 
 the front row of the crowd that still watched the 
 dancers with absorbing interest. Only two couples 
 now swayed round and round the floor, and it was 
 evident Rooney was tiring, his weight was telling against 
 him, but Annie Laurie still danced superbly. Maida 
 was not dancing with any effort of her own ; for the 
 time being she had yielded herself up body and soul 
 to Snowey, and he, like the Wandering Jew, looked as if 
 he could and would go on for ever. 
 
 "Til lay odds to a hundred ounces on the light 
 weight." 
 
 It was the voice of Brannigan the gambler that rose 
 clear above all other sounds in the hall. 
 
 Rooney heard and scowled. Snowey also heard, but 
 made no sign. 
 
 For a while Rooney, spurred by the tense atmosphere 
 of the crowd, and the certainty that the man who was. 
 dancing against him meant to make him crawl down 
 publicly, danced better than at any time during the 
 evening, but Snowey capped each effort. 
 
 "I'll follow suit on Brannigan's lead," growled 
 Shadow Millroy, the thinnest man, and one of the 
 luckiest on the rush. "And," he added, "I'll stand 
 wine all round if I lose on the light weight, not rain- 
 juice an' whisky." 
 
 Suddenly at a particularly uneven patch in the floor 
 Rooney blundered ; had he been fresh he would have 
 picked up the step easily, as it was, something of the 
 man's real nature came to the surface : he blamed the 
 girl he was dancing with, and swung her violently past 
 the bad place. Annie Laurie was not the kind of girl
 
 208 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 to >ubmit tamely to a public affront : the hot colour 
 flashed into her face. 
 
 "Don't lose your temper," she said sweetlv. " because 
 you're being out-danced by a better man," and the 
 people along the side of the hall heard her word 
 she intended they should, for Annie was vain of her 
 dancing. 
 
 Snowey deliberately danced over the same bad patch 
 in the floor, and took it as if he had been on a Roman 
 ballroom floor. 
 
 "Nerve tells in any old game," cried a voice from 
 near the bar, and again Rooney's brows came down, 
 and as he whirled he shot a glance into the face of 
 his rival, and Snowey's lip curled in an unmistakable 
 sneer. 
 
 Rooney tried hard to pick up his lost advantage, 
 but all harmony between him and ,his partner had 
 been destroyed. He made another blunder, and then 
 stopped. 
 
 " Bate bate ter a frazzle ! " 
 
 It was the jubilant voice of Ginger heralding his 
 comrade's victory. 
 
 Snowey danced on easily, carelessly, and with superb 
 grace until he came opposite the Sergeant ; then he 
 handed Maida to the Englishman with a quick 
 
 "Thanks, pal, and thank you, Miss Maida you're 
 a wonder." 
 
 He caught Annie Laurie's eye, beckoned to her, and 
 she came quickly. 
 
 "Too tired to show the boys it was your partner, 
 not you, who quitted ? " 
 
 For answer Annie placed her hand in his, and away
 
 A BLACK OUTLOOK FOR MAIDA 209 
 
 they went, round and round the room like a pair of 
 swallows on the wing, until the flute and the fiddles 
 gave up in disgust, and with a crash of discord brought 
 the long, long waltz to an end. Then the devil-may- 
 care voice of French Charley was heard 
 
 " By Gar, dat was ze slap in ze face with ze gloves 
 off for ze big fellah. I never see it done better me." 
 
 And Rooney's upper teeth went into his lower lip, 
 and his left hand slipped inside his shirt. AVhereupon 
 Ginger, who was watching, quietly but quickly stepped 
 in front of Snowey. 
 
 " What did you do that for, kid ? " 
 
 Snowey had not seen the hand go into the shirt. 
 
 " Do what ? " 
 
 " Come off it, son, you know what I mean ? " 
 
 " Av all th' cheek Oi've seen, you Anzacs beat th' 
 band. You dance wid me girl, an' put drames av bein' 
 Mrs. Snowey into her head, an' you want ter keep me 
 from havin' a chance ter dispel thim same nightmares," 
 lied Ginger glibly. 
 
 "Sounds like last week's washin* comin' home ter 
 me, kid. Did Rooney do anything ter make you think 
 I wanted a wet nurse ? " 
 
 " Och, him ! Forgit ut, he's an ondacent memory on 
 th' map av me imagination. But, Snowey " 
 
 " What is it ? " 
 
 "If yez brought more than one gun from camp 
 
 -night, lend ut ter me ! " 
 
 " I didn't ; you take Annie Laurie home : she's 
 in' against th' wall f'r your comfortin' presence." 
 
 " Let her pine, an' be damned to her ; she danced 
 
 les in her stockin's wid Rooney, let him mend 'em. 
 p
 
 210 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 There's th' little black-eyed girl wid a waist no bigger 
 than a rolled-up umbrella from Th' Kangaroo an' Emu : 
 she give me a taste av th' glad eye just now. Oi'll go 
 an' place myself adjacent to her, an' p'rhaps Oi'll take 
 her home. Oi'm no shoe-string fr Annie Laurie ter 
 tie an' untie at her pleasure." 
 
 " Hell owns no fury like a vermilion-headed Irishman 
 given th' order o' th' boot by inconstant beauty," 
 chuckled Butterfly. 
 
 Ginger took himself off, and soon swaggered out of 
 the hall with the girl from The Kangaroo and Emu on 
 his arm, the swagger being mainly for the benefit of 
 Annie Laurie, who, however, gave him a friendly nod 
 and smile that displayed her teeth at their best, which 
 caused Butterfly Brown to remark 
 
 " Annie has shore got Ginger's measure better 'n any 
 army tailor ever had."
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 WHEN THE LOVE-BUG BITES 
 
 " A'M no' savin' a word agin wimmin, ye ken tha', 
 Butterfly ; we men air made o' sic saft material, we wad 
 go loco wi'oot 'em, though maist o' th' time they can 
 get along fine wi'oot us, wha' wi' their weans an' their 
 washin', maist o' them dinna care a dom eef they only 
 see us fra Saturday till Monday, an' they dinna often 
 pray Fr twa Sundays a week, but when the love-bug 
 bites a lassie, she's no mair responsible f r wha' she will 
 or will no' dae, than a pole Angus coo in th' fly 
 season." 
 
 Ginger had perforce to butt in : " Sorr " 
 
 " Weel, ma mannie ? " 
 
 " Is that meant f r a compliment ter th 1 women, or 
 or th' coo ? ' ' 
 
 " A'm no' payin' compliments, A'm statin' a gran' 
 truth : a lassie in love wi' a man is th' de'il an' a 1 
 unless ye're th' man an' twa lassies in love wi' th' 
 same buckie mak' a braw pickle." 
 
 " Och, sorr, are th' lasses chasin 1 yerself, sorr ? If so, 
 Oi'll take wan av 'em off y'r hands, an' I won't charge 
 yez overtime f r me sufferin's."" 
 
 " Na, ma wee laddie, A've never had ta sleep up trees 
 ta keep "em at bay ma ainselV 
 
 Butterfly, who saw that the veteran was in a serious 
 vein, and in no mood to put up with too much of 
 Ginger's banter, took up the tale. 
 
 211
 
 212 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 " Shore, Mac, I don't want to amble into th' con- 
 versation until you've spun your tale of woe, but Tin 
 guessin' ifs Snowie an* Maida Lainarde y're pointin' 
 y'r verbal Jgun at, eh ?" 
 
 Maida an" 1 Annie Laurie, Butterfly." 
 
 " Oi haven't seen any outrageous signs av sufferin' 
 on Snowey, meself, sorr." 
 
 " Ye dinna ken th 1 bite o 1 th 1 love-bug, Ginger. 1 " 
 
 " Snowey shore does seem ter bear up remarkable 
 under his affliction, Old Sportsman.'" 
 
 " It's no' him A'm theenkin* o\ ifs th' twa las- 
 Yank." 
 
 " Och, ufs aisy, sorr, let "em toss f r him, as mi-self 
 an" th 1 Sergeant do f r packets av fags. 1 " 
 
 "A'm glad ye mentioned th 1 Sergeant, buckie. A 'in 
 no' easy in ma mind aboot him." 
 
 " He is off his feed lately, an* that's gospel ; I asked 
 him about it, an' he put it down to lumbago." 
 
 " It's no' lumbago, Butterfly, it's th' love-bug 
 bitin'." 
 
 "When Oi get a bad bite from that same baste," 
 crooned Ginger, " ut don't put me off me feed, ut only 
 makes me ancesthral pride sit up an 1 kick, an' Oi take 
 ut out in grub ; th 1 more Oi'm bit, th' more Oi ate ; if 
 Oi was ter tumble in love wid two at wanst, Oi'd start 
 a famine." 
 
 "Ye " McGlusky made a large gesture of contempt 
 " ye theenk wi 1 y'r stomach, laddie, y'r intellect has 
 na developed, but, by th' breeches o' Cromwell, y'r 
 appetite has, an* eef oor claims dinna pan oot m.iir 
 gold than they've been doin' lately, A'll ha* ta muz/le 
 ye at meal-times."
 
 WHEN THE LOVE-BUG BITES 213 
 
 " Who's workin' havoc with th' Sergeant's internal 
 e-conomy, Mac ? " 
 
 ' ; Maida Lamarde." 
 
 " An' you think she's on th 1 pine fr Snowey ? " 
 
 "Ado." 
 
 "Sounds like a pack o' cards looks when Ginger's 
 been stacking *em." 
 
 " Oi wisht Oi had th' shufflin' av this human pack," 
 growled Ginger. " Oi'd cut Maida Lamarde out an' 
 discard her." 
 
 " You shore don't seem ter get no friendlier ter her, 
 son." 
 
 " Friendlier me ? No, Oi don't, an' Oi won't. Oi 
 said from th' first she did her father in, or she knows 
 th' man that did, an* she's shieldin' him. Oi Oi seen 
 th' blood on her hand." 
 
 " Dinna say tha' in front o' Snowey, wee mannie." 
 
 " Is he sweet on Maida ? " 
 
 " A'm no' sure, Butterfly ; ye canna tell wha's 
 eenside Snowey fra surface eendications. Whiles A 
 theenk he's wadin' in th' amber clouds o' love wi' 
 Maida, whiles A theenk he's dreenkin' love draughts 
 fra th' eyes o' Annie Laurie." 
 
 "By Mary, thin, y're wrong," growled Ginger. 
 " Judgin' by th' way he thripped over his spurs an' th' 
 unconverted language he spilled over me when I picked 
 him up outside our tent last night, ut was somethiu' 
 out av a little fat black bottle he'd been drinkin', sorr. 
 Oi had somethin' out av Annie's eyes at first as ye 
 both remember, but ut didn't make me walk as if Oi 
 had two left legs." 
 
 "If Snowey lost his laigs, son, he most certainly
 
 214 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 had some trouble with a stronger spirit than Annie 
 Laurie's." 
 
 " He lost both ends av him last night th' first time 
 Oi iver knowed ut ter happen ter Snowey. lie >ai<l th' 
 moon was a blinkin' bush-fire, an' kep' me runnin* 
 up an' down in me shirt f r an hour ter put ut 
 out." 
 
 "That's bad, real undiluted trouble mixture, eh, 
 Old Timer?" 
 
 " Y're richt, Yank." 
 
 Ginger flared up hotly at once in defence of Snov 
 " Ut's nothin' ter make a song about ; we've all done 
 ut before ter-night," 
 
 A flush that was reminiscent of past failings spivad 
 over the veteran's face, and his voice was full of pain as 
 he answered 
 
 " We ha', laddie, an' some o' us ha' drunk o' th 1 cup 
 o' tears f r daein' it." 
 
 Butterfly looked steadily at Ginger, and there was a 
 note of contempt, not often heard in his good-humoured 
 voice, as he said 
 
 " Scripture talk ain't my strong suit, son, an' I don't 
 often drop it around, but there's a savin' I'd like ter 
 impress on y'r memory, if you possess th' commodity." 
 He paused, then : " * How sharper than a serpent's 
 tooth it is to have a thankless child.' ' 
 
 Ginger was cut to the quick ; his swift imagination 
 conjured up all that the American's rebuke implied. 
 He moved forward from where he was sitting on the 
 earth, moved on hands and knees and nestled in the old 
 digger's arms, as many a time he had done in those 
 days when McGlusky had found him a starving waif of
 
 WHEN THE LOVE-BUG BITES 215 
 
 a seaport slum and taken him to his big, warm, rough 
 old heart. No word was spoken for a long time, and 
 perhaps it was as well that the tent was in shadow. 
 The big man cradled the imp in arms that had fought 
 afad wrought for him, and Ginger rubbed his freckled 
 i /face against the scarred and bearded one. Then 
 
 " Ye didna mean it, ma wee mannie ; it were ainly 
 the de'il wi'in ye : dinna fash." 
 
 A little later the American broke the constrained 
 silence. 
 
 " You shore did not catch the route I intended my 
 remarks to take, son, when I said Snowey '$ little jazz 
 was some bad f r him." 
 
 " Oi'm a baste ! Oi'm like th' bush nigger that 
 wanted ter catch th' snake by th' tail, an' grabbed th' 
 wrong end av ut." 
 
 "Bad fr both," smiled Butterfly, "specially th' 
 nigger, eh ? " 
 
 " Tell me, Butterfly, why was you so concerned about 
 Snowey an' his little jazz ? " 
 
 Instantly the Yankee's face became serious. " Sure, 
 son, it's because he might run into Rooney when his 
 
 laigs wasn't perpendicular, an' then " 
 
 "Och, what about th' day after, when Snowey 
 sobered up ?" 
 
 "Son, there mightn't be no 'day after.' Rooney's 
 bad, plumb bad; Trooper Jim has heard somethin' 
 concernin' him, somethin' about Rooney's doin's in 
 America on the Texan border; he left them parts 
 unannounced, an' in a blamed hurry, an' if he ever 
 goes back, his obsequies will be sudden, an' an' shorn 
 of all reverence."
 
 216 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 Be Mary, Snowey scented him f r a bad egg from 
 th' first, an' so did th' Auld Timer." 
 
 " He's a gun man, Ginger." 
 
 "Is he, beduclr Thin Oi'll back Snowey av th' 
 Anzacs ag'in him." 
 
 "That's just it, son; Snowey has throwed a gun in 
 war so often, he's grown to be a gun man too. Don't 
 you mind how he got inter th' habit of always havin' 
 a gun on his hip when he went inter action in Italy 
 against th' Austrians? He'd pull that gun an' drop 
 man after man, while th' rest of us was busy with the 
 bay'nit in them mountain defiles an', Ginger, he got 
 ter like it." 
 
 " He were always a killer when he was oor best 
 sharpshooter at Gallipoli ; he'd mark a Turk down an' 
 lay out all night ta get him at dawn wi' his rifle th' 
 gun on th' hip cam' later, wee laddie." 
 
 " Strange how one gun man scents another, an* always 
 wants ter walk on th' same side o' th' street ready." 
 
 " Butterfly ha' th' richts o' it, an' it only wanted 
 Maida Lamarde ta witch Rooney ta her side, ta wake 
 th' de'il in Snowey." 
 
 "Oi don't belave he's mad over Maida." 
 
 " Gie us wha's eenside y'r head, buckie, sometimes 
 th' contents air no' all puddin' fillin's." 
 
 * Thank ye kindly, sorr. Well, ut's this way I see 
 ut. Snowey thinks a lot in his no showin' way av th' 
 Sergeant." 
 
 " We all dae, mannie." 
 
 "Let me proceed wid me disquisition av th' i JIM . 
 sorr, as Lh* bull-ant said ter th' blackbeetle he wanted 
 f r breakfast."
 
 WHEN THE LOVE-BUG BITES 217 
 
 " Dom all bull-ants," muttered McGlusky, " A had 
 yin in ma kilt th 1 morn, they dinna discreeminate wha' 
 they ha 1 f r breakfast.' 1 
 
 " Snowey," proceeded Ginger, " knows yV auld love- 
 bug is bitin 1 th 1 Sergeant, an' he knows Rooney is after 
 Maida, an' Snowey means ter stand in between an' put 
 th' comether on Rooney's little game, for ut's th' girl's 
 gold he wants, an' th' fool girl is half in love wid 
 Snowey an' half wid th' Sergeant, an' that puts th' lid 
 on th' pot." 
 
 " Buckie, I believe y're no' far frae th' truth. A 
 dinna ken if ye reasoned it a' oot like a buckie o' 
 brains, or if it just cam' ta ye in y'r sleep, but A 
 theenk ye've got it richt." 
 
 " Can you tell me, son, why Maida goes so often to 
 Canvas Town, an' gets thicker an' thicker with Rooney?" 
 
 "Oican, Butterfly." 
 
 "Why, kid?" 
 
 " She's rotten ter th' core av her, Oi always said so, 
 an' bedad she is." 
 
 " A have no' been ta Canvas Toon since th' nicht A 
 tuk ma pipes in, an' that's a lang time noo ; oor claims 
 air no' pannin' oot weel, sae A bided hame, but A'll 
 gie th' place a keek, A'm theenkin', an' dae a bit 
 diplomacy, an' straighten oot some o' this coil, an' 
 tha' reminds ma, A've a wee bittie ploy ta settle wi* 
 Mister Rooney ma aiusel*. Just pass ma ower ma 
 twa guns, Butterfly, maybe they need a bit attention ; 
 eef Rooney's a gun man wi' a record, an' Trooper Jim 
 is na leear, he's th' straightest man in th' mounted 
 p'leece in a' th' back country, why Mr. Rooney may 
 as weel ken Jamie de McGlusky is na weaklin'."
 
 218 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 "You an' y'r diplomacy, sorr," growled Ginger, 
 point.ing a scornful finger at the two big guns Butterfly 
 had handed to the veteran; "fine diplomacy ut will 
 be wid you shootin' holes in Rooney, an' him perhaps 
 lettin' daylight inter yerself, an' all f'r th' sake av 
 Maida Lamarde. Don't I know she's at th' back av 
 all y'r minds ? An' she not worth a drop av th' blood 
 ter be spilt except Rooney's. Oi've said from th' 
 first she's th' mother av trouble, an', be Marv, Oi'm 
 right." 
 
 " Wee laddie, ye remin' me o' a Scots dame A kenned 
 in Edinburgh." 
 
 " Faith thin, y'r Scotch dame must ha been a bit av 
 a curiosity Pr a faymale, sorr." 
 
 McGlusky's eyes took on the sly twinkle that made 
 his grim face so lovable. 
 
 " It was no' her looks, laddie, it were her speech. 
 She were watchin' th' Highlan' Brigade inarch by in 
 a' their splendour, an' her son Jock who had just 
 joined up as a raw recruity were marchin', or tryin' ta 
 march wi 1 them, an' his mither cried oot : ' Look, 
 neebours, look, ain't it wonnerfu', there's a' those 
 michty men' o' war marchin' an' all o' them oot o' 
 .step wi' th' music excep' oor Jock.' ' 
 
 " Well, sorr, Oi'm out av step wid you all over 
 Maida Lamarde, an' Oi'm glad av ut." 
 
 Later that night, when every one else was asleep, 
 McGlusky stood in the starlight under his banner, and 
 looked over the whole group of Tiger Claims. 
 
 "None o' ye worth th' sweat ye've c-ost," he 
 grumbled, " excep' th' Sergeant's, an' his is na great 
 shakes, just a han'fu' o' nuggets noo an* again in it,
 
 WHEN THE LOVE-BUG BITES 219 
 
 but eef it was no' f r those same few nuggets, we'd ha' 
 ta quit." He loaded his pipe, and smoked until the 
 pipe was nearly empty, and he was thinking furiously 
 as he smoked. "Th' worst batch o' claims on th' 
 whole rush, an' A laid ma laddies on ta 'em." He 
 cut another pipeful. "A canna unnerstan' it, A had 
 th' ' feelin' ' they were good when A pegged out ma 
 ain an' th' laddies', an' every day th' ' feelin' ' o' gold 
 unner ma feet ha' grown stronger. A never knew th' 
 * feelin' ' ta play ma false before in a' ma life." He 
 lit up and pulled at the pipe slowly and thoughtfully. 
 " A canna get rid o' th' ' feelin',' it's on ma noo ; every 
 old digger kens it, it's a half-sister ta secon' sicht." 
 He looked over the great heaps of dirt he and his 
 mates had dug up and put through their machines. 
 " Losh, but we've toiled like men, an' wha' wi' th' cost 
 o' leevin' an* th' price o' watter f r oor beasties, oor 
 pooches air as lean as th' shanks o' a wolf." He flung 
 himself down at full length by a pile of worked-out 
 dirt. " Wha's wrang wi' ye, Jamie de McGlusky ? Is 
 it th' aristocracy that cam* to ye wi' th' 'de' that's 
 spoilin' y'r fr a prospector ? It's no' th' love-bug 
 bitin', f r A'm no* in love, though A'll admit th' love- 
 bug did gie ma a wee bit o' a nibble when first A saw 
 Maida Lamarde, but it was no" 1 a bite. A've no' been 
 in touch wi' ma speerit frien's f r a waesome time ; A 
 won'er eef A cud ca' yin o' them to help ma noo. A 
 dinna want ta fail this time f r th' sake o' th' buckies 
 who trustit all ta ma judgment." 
 
 He put his pipe by his side, and after a few minutes 1 
 silent reflection, he selected a "spirit" suitable for his 
 present needs.
 
 220 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 "Air ye ram'lin' roon these pairts, Geordie Ye 
 were hard ta beat as a gold-digger when ye were here, 
 though eef yeVe no" 1 changed y'r spots since ye cro.nl 
 th" border, yYe mair likely ta be hangin' roon' a saloon 
 in Canvas Toon th" nicht than ta be handy ta help an 
 old mate." 
 
 The spirit of the departed Geordie might have been 
 in Canvas Town, or in some other region where drink 
 was less plentiful. McGlusky got no answer. 
 
 He lifted his body to change his position, and 
 thought he saw something moving on the Sergeant's 
 claim. 
 
 " A'm hopin' th' love-bug is no' keepin' th' Sergeant 
 awake dom th' bug." 
 
 A little later he was sure he could see a form creeping 
 on the Sergeant's claim, and a new thought came to 
 him. 
 
 " Yon's no honest man ; maybe it's yin o' th' Swedes 
 Maida ha' employed ta help her work her claim." He 
 watched, and began to use language as piquant as 
 pickles, under his breath. " Th' dom gold-thief, he's 
 after th' bit patch where th' Sergeant struck his last 
 nugget ; eef A can creep up close ta him, A'll gie him 
 yin kick tha' will bring th' end he sits on an' th' end 
 he thinks wi' sae close thegither, he'll no' have need 
 f r a shirt-collar to th' day he dies th' blastie." 
 
 The two Swedes Maida had put on to work as wa 
 men were of that large number of adventurers who had 
 arrived too late to peg out claims for themselves anv- 
 where near the gold-find, and being penniless v 
 only too glad to get work at a pound per day and 
 their grub. They were apparently a couple of hone-t,
 
 WHEN THE LOVE-BUG BITES 221 
 
 hardworking fellows, who did what they were told, and 
 gave no trouble. One dug the earth, the other sho- 
 velled it into the dry-blower, and Maida rocked the 
 machine and collected the gold. 
 
 Creeping through the starlight with the noiseless 
 stealth of a panther looting a camp, McGlusky drew 
 nearer and nearer to his quarry. He gritted his teeth, 
 for the robber was kneeling right by the hole where the 
 Sergeant had found a nice five-ounce nugget just before 
 quitting work for the day. Head, shoulders and arms 
 were out of sight down the shallow hole, but the 
 broadest part of the night-hawk's anatomy was in 
 view. 
 
 McGlusky gently drew one leg up and felt the toe 
 of his footwear. "Only ma old camp slippers," he 
 muttered. "Losh, A weesh it were ma iron-shod 
 Alpine boots A had on, A'd mak' ye cough." 
 
 He rose swiftly, swung his leg and kicked, but the 
 loose earth on which his other foot rested gave way 
 under him, and only about a fiftieth part of the 
 energy he had expended on the kick took effect. The 
 figure of the claim-prowler shot bodily into the hole, 
 and an appalling yell came from down under. 
 
 " Aye, ye ma' squawk ; it was no' a good yin A gied 
 ye, but it will do f r a start." 
 
 All the Tiger Claim men came from their tents, and 
 Snowey's voice wanted to know the meaning of the 
 earthquake. 
 
 " It's just naething at a', laddie ; A just stubbed ma 
 toe inta something saft tha' were stealin' oor bit gold, 
 an' it screechit as eef it were hurtit." 
 
 " Want any help, Mac ? "
 
 222 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 "Help ma? Na, na; gang back ta y'r blanket-, 
 buckles ; A'll gie this gommeril a taste o' ma belt." 
 
 A chorus of laughter broke from the little group, 
 and they went back to blankets, for there was a nip in 
 the night air. 
 
 Mac jumped down the hole and bent over the 
 huddled-up figure that crouched there, 
 
 " Come oot o' it, ye sneak thief; A'm waesome sorry 
 A didna ha' a decent boot on, ye'd ha' something ta 
 greet aboot. Noo A'm gawn ta lay ma belt where A 
 placed ma boot. Get up an' strip off'. A want ta see 
 ma fut work." 
 
 "G-o a-w-a-y, Mr. McG-1-u-s-ky." 
 
 If the real earthcjuake suggested by Snowey had 
 broken loose just then, the old digger could not have 
 been more surprised. He struck a match and peered 
 down into a white face, with long golden hair streaming 
 all round it. The match burnt to the veteran's finger 
 and thumb before he found his tongue. Then he gasped 
 
 "By ma old grey gods eet's Miss Maida." 
 
 "Go a-w-a-y, you've k-i-ck-ed me i-n h-a-l-f." 
 
 " Bide a wee, bide a jiffy, ma lassie, A've some oils 
 in ma tent ; A'll put ye richt in a jiffy." 
 
 "You won't." 
 
 The way the girl snapped those two words out told 
 Mac that if he really had kicked her in half, the half 
 that was left was very much alive. 
 
 " Shall A carry ye back ta y'r tent, lassie ? " 
 
 " Wh-e-re are the others ': ' ' 
 
 "Snorin* the cradle song by now, ma dear." 
 
 "I'm not your dear." 
 
 This came very tartly from the injured girl.
 
 WHEN THE LOVE-BUG BITES 223 
 
 "Ye air that fr th' noo." 
 
 " Well, I don't want to be if this is how you treat 
 your dears." 
 
 " A'll mak' ye drop hot watter, an' a sponge an' some 
 oil wull " 
 
 " You'll do nothing of the sort." 
 
 " Gie ma y'r pardon, A'm forgettin' y're a hen." 
 
 " Carry me to my tent." 
 
 This came with strange imperiousness from a detected 
 claim-prowler. 
 
 McGlusky lifted her in his arms, and even in her 
 pained condition she wondered at the strength of him ; 
 she knew she was no more than summer thistledown in 
 his arms. 
 
 " Ye're na heavier than a smile," he remarked as his 
 long legs took him over the ground. 
 
 Arrived at her tent, he was greeted at first in a 
 hostile manner by the big staghound chained to a stake 
 at the foot of her bed. A word from the girl quieted 
 the beast. 
 
 " Lay me on my blankets gently." 
 
 He obeyed as if he and not she had been caught 
 red-handed claim-prowling. 
 
 " A'll gang find ma horse an' ride ta Canvas Toon 
 an 1 bring oot Annie Laurie ; ye're friendly wi' her, an" 
 she's a hen." 
 
 " You'll do nothing of the sort, Mr. McGlusky." 
 
 " For why no' ? " 
 
 "Do you think a woman would let another woman 
 know a man had kicked her, if she could help it ? " 
 
 " It were a gude job A didn't kick ye hard, Miss 
 Maida."
 
 224 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 " Didn't you ? I I thought you did." 
 
 A meant ta," he confessed, " but ma foot slippit. 
 A'rn gey glad it were only a wee yin ye got, In 
 Y're sae light, A'm theenkin' ye'd be flyin* yet i-cf AM 
 had boots on' an' got ye fair." 
 
 " Why didn't you speak before you you kicked ? " 
 
 " A thocht ye were a claim-thief, an 1 claim-thieves 
 maistly gae armed, an' ye dinna gie them warnin', ye 
 ken." 
 
 ** I understand." 
 
 " A thocht it were yin o 1 y'r Swedes." 
 
 " They're as honest as I am." 
 
 That started McGlusky thinking. 
 
 "Lassie, wha' were ye daein' on th' Sergeant's claim 
 in th' middle o' th' nicht ? Men ha' been shot f r 
 less." 
 
 " I hate to tell you, Mr. McGlusky." 
 
 " Ye'll ha' te tell." 
 
 " I know I shall." The girl spoke with sudden 
 bitterness. "I shall have to tell you now, unk-- I 
 want you to turn against me. I know what Ginger 
 thinks I am, and you have never made up your mind 
 about me ; and Snowey Snowey is not sure concerning 
 me ; the only one of the Tiger crowd who trusts me 
 thoroughly is the Englishman you call the Sergeant. 
 The Yankee Butterfly Brown hasn't made up his mind, 
 and doesn't want to, for fear the verdict will go against 
 me, and he's kind by nature." 
 
 - You're thinkin' o' y'r father?" 
 
 " You know I am of my father and the war he 
 died." 
 
 "It were awesome th' way he died, a strong man
 
 WHEN THE LOVE-BUG BITES 225 
 
 done ta death from behind, wi'oot a chance o' a 
 
 fecht." 
 
 " Do you think I I had a hand in that ? " 
 
 " Eef A were sure ye did, wee lassie, A theenk A'd 
 
 lay a grup on yV white throat wi' ma han' noo, in th' 
 
 name o' justice." 
 
 "You're not sure in your own mind, McGlusky, that 
 I'm innocent ? " 
 
 Their eyes met in a long, fierce, penetrating gaze. 
 McGlusky, who all his life had known and felt the 
 power and lure of sex, often to his after sorrow and 
 shame-faced regret, felt then the woman's magnetism, 
 for never had she seemed so fair in his eyes or so 
 desirable, as at that moment, yet the rugged honesty 
 of the man, never far out of call, would not let him 
 lie, or shirk the issue. 
 
 " Answer me." 
 
 "No, lassie, A am no' certain." 
 
 The girl turned her head wearily on her rough pillow, 
 
 " So I must tell you why I was on the Sergeant's 
 claim to-night or it will add to your doubts of me: 
 and, McGlusky, I need you need all the few friends 
 I have, and every man of the Tiger crowd even that 
 little demon Ginger, though he thinks me a murderess." 
 
 " For why dae ye need us ? " 
 
 " The man who butchered my father is on this 
 field." 
 
 McGlusky was on his feet, crouching a little on 
 account of his height, and the room in the tent. Some- 
 thing shone from his fierce old face that townsmen 
 might not have understood ; it was the spirit of bush 
 justice, for to men of his type born in the wilds and 
 Q
 
 226 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 nurtured on its mysteries, the Gambling of a bushman 
 was as much a personal matter as if the dead man 
 were son or brother. To kill in fair and open fight 
 did not seem a crime against God or man to him ; in 
 his eyes it was and always had been the universal law ; 
 but to kill treacherously, by stealth, in the dark, from 
 behind, for that vengeance must be taken. He looked 
 terrible as he crouched over the girl, an implacable, 
 unforgiving, remorseless being, to whom the law of an 
 eye for an eye was as the breath of life in his nostrils. 
 
 " Gie me th' man's name an' th' proof! " 
 
 That last sentence was typical of the Anzac nation 
 " The proof " he must have that first, the vengeance 
 he would answer for. 
 
 " I do not know his name." 
 
 "Describe the man." 
 
 " I cannot ; I do not know that I have ever seen 
 him." 
 
 "Make y'r speech plain, A'm gropin' in th' dark." 
 
 "So am I. Listen, Mr. McGlusky, for weeks pa-t 
 some one has been spreading the rumour through the 
 camp that I killed my own father." 
 
 " How dae ye ken tha' ? " 
 
 " Because men, and women too, in Canvas Town have 
 turned against me without cause or reason. Men do 
 not come to ask me to dance with them when I go 
 to the dance-hall. Only two ever dance with me now : 
 when they arc not there, I sit out the dances, yet I am 
 the best dancer in the camp, excepting Annie Laurie. 
 Women do not speak to me now, only Annie." 
 
 " Who air th' twa men who dance wi' ye * " 
 
 "Snowey and Hooney."
 
 WHEN THE LOVE-BUG BITES 227 
 
 " A leeon an 1 a jackal." 
 
 " I think so." 
 
 " Then why dae ye dance wi' th' jackal ? " 
 
 The girl's lips twisted in a queer smile. 
 
 " You know your Bible, McGlusky ? " 
 
 " Backwards." 
 
 " Well, what does it say about the way of a maid ? " 
 
 " Naething but a wee bittie aboot th' way o' a man 
 wi' a maid." 
 
 " It comes to the same thing when you apply it to 
 human life. Now listen. 1 ' Again she held him by 
 some hidden force. " I was at the dance-hall to-night, 
 before I came to your claim." 
 
 "The Sergeant's claim." 
 
 " The same thing ; you all share and share alike."" 
 
 " Weel, get on ta it." 
 
 " I was hissed as I crossed the floor, and some one 
 called out ' We want no murderesses here.' " 
 
 " Did ye see th' man who said it ? " 
 
 "No."' 
 
 " Were Snowey there ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Ye'd ha' heard a gun go off if he had been." 
 
 " Why ? " 
 
 " Snowey wad fecht f r th' lass he loves eef she were 
 dyed wi' a' th' fires o' hell it's Snowey's way." 
 
 " The lass he loves you think he loves me ? " 
 
 " A dae." 
 
 " I think he loves Annie Laurie." 
 
 " A'm theenkin' y're wrong ; it's yersel' he loves, an' 
 so does th' Sergeant." 
 
 " The Sergeant is one of the manliest men I know.
 
 228 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 " Yes, an' ye'll never ken a manlier than ma Snowey, 
 no' even ma Ginger." 
 
 The girl smiled ; she had small cause to love Ginger. 
 She dismissed the love subject. 
 
 " The reason I think the man who killed my father 
 is in camp, is that only a man who wanted me out of 
 the way would spread such a rumour. I have never 
 had an enemy of my own in my life ; the man who did 
 my father to death must have known something about 
 me, and if he knew anything he would know I would 
 spend my whole life hunting him down know that 
 is why I am here." 
 
 " A'm followin' y'r logic, yeVe no daft." 
 
 " The diggers will drive me away if they once get it 
 firmly into their heads I am my father's killer." 
 
 " They will." 
 
 " Will you stand by me, Mr. McGlusky ? " 
 
 There was a long pause, then 
 
 " A will, an' A pledge a 1 th 1 Tiger crowd." 
 
 " Barring Ginger." 
 
 The girl said this with a sad little smile. 
 
 "Lassie, A'll answer f'r Ginger as A wad fr ma 
 own soul." 
 
 " He thinks me guilty." 
 
 " As guilty as th' de'il, lassie, but ye dinna ken ma 
 wee laddie; he were cradled on comradeship a' th 1 
 cradle th' puir wee mannie ever had an', lassie, ma 
 ainsel' an' Snowey air his comrades. Ginger will forget 
 a' else, but tha' ; he micht hate ye like bla/e>, A'm no' 
 sure he doesna, but gin me an 1 Snowev f'echt f r 
 Ginger will fecht too, an' he's worth a lot when th 
 air doin\ ye can bet y'r new bruises on tha'."
 
 WHEN THE LOVE-BUG BITES 229 
 
 " Thank you. I I'm glad you kicked me to-night, 
 Mr. McGlusky." 
 
 "A didna theenk ye'd get much pleasure oot o 1 it, lass.' 
 
 " I shouldn't have had this chance to talk to you if 
 you had not." 
 
 "Everything in life is mixed wi" 1 marcy, even a 
 booting. Noo tell ma why were ye on th' Tiger Claim 
 th 1 nicht ? " 
 
 " I was putting a few nuggets into the loose earth 
 left by the Sergeant." 
 
 McGlusky stood for a while, too dumbfounded to 
 speak ; then a wave of unreasoning rage took possession 
 of him. 
 
 " Ye were puttin' nuggets into, OOT ground ? Ye've 
 done it afore, dinna lee ta ma." 
 
 " Yes, my claim was rich ; all of your ground was 
 poor, too poor to be worth working. The Sergeant is 
 no digger, I could salt his claim without him guessing 
 it, you would have found me out long ago, so would 
 Snowey." 
 
 " I did," drawled the voice of the Sharpshooter from 
 the shadow near the opening of the tent. 
 
 " Wha' air ye daein' there ? Air ye spyin' on ma ? " 
 
 " Guess you oughter know if I'd spy on a pal or not, 
 Old Timer." 
 
 " Perhaps it was me you were watching, Snowey ?" 
 
 " Well, in a way it was, Maida. Your dog barked 
 an' woke me ; I looked at your tent, an* saw a light, 
 an' I well, I wondered, an' I watched." 
 
 " What did you watch for ? " 
 
 " I saw a man's shadow on th' canvas, an 1 " 
 
 "Well?"
 
 230 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 "I united fr th' man." 
 
 " You thought I had a man visiting my tent in the 
 night?" 
 
 " I shore did, an' as he didn't come out, I came 
 aero 
 
 As he spoke the Sharpshooter's hands fell instinctive! - 
 on the butts of the big ugly guns on his hips. Mai 
 face was white with wrath. 
 
 " Who did you think was here ? " 
 
 ' Well, I figured it might be Rooney." 
 
 And if it had been?" 
 
 "He'd have stayed here permanent." 
 
 " How much of our talk have you heard ? " 
 
 " The last bit, that's all. I just arrove ; my patience 
 had all wore out." 
 
 " Weel, buckie, it's no' Rooney, it's ma." 
 
 "I'm some surprised, Old Sportsman ; you might ha' 
 given me a light f r my feet." 
 
 " Meanin' wha*. laddie ? " 
 
 " Meanin' I never even guessed you an' Maida was 
 workin' in double harness ; I'd ha' knowed there \\a- 
 no need ter watch her tent if I'd knowed that ; you can 
 look after your own, Mac." 
 
 " Ye're a dom fule ; in a' th' years we've forgathered 
 thegither, A've never felt like gie'in' ye ma blessin' 
 wi' thk" 
 
 The pioneer digger shook a big bony fist in the 
 Sharpshooter's face. 
 
 "As a blessin'," drawled Snowey, " I shore wouldn't 
 pay more'n th' market price fr it, Mac." 
 
 " A'm no' here makin' love, ye gommeril." 
 
 "Old Timer, if you was to tell me you \\ 
 teachin' Maida th' art o' bee-cultivatin' I'd 1*
 
 WHEN THE LOVE-BUG BITES 231 
 
 you ; leastways, if I didn't believe you, I'd accept th' 
 situation you're my mate." 
 
 " A've no' been talkin' aboot bees." 
 
 " Collectin' honey instead, matey ? Well, it's your 
 right, an' I apologise f r buttin' in." 
 
 " I wish I was a man," cried Maida passionately. 
 
 " Can't have both sides o' th' game, girlie good- 
 night." 
 
 "Halt!" 
 
 The old military order burst from McGlusky's throat 
 like a mastiff's challenge. Snowey wheeled and faced 
 the pair again. 
 
 " Laddie, ye mauna gang lik' tha', it's no' fair ta th' 
 lassie. Hark ta ma. A caught her on th' Sergeant's 
 claim th' nicht; A thocht she were a gold-thief; ye 
 heard her squawk when A kicked her." 
 
 " You, Mac you kicked Maida ? " 
 
 " A did, an' she's got th' mark o' it, but bein' a hen 
 she " 
 
 Maida reached up, and catching McGlusky by the 
 beani^ pulled his head down and clapped her other 
 hand over his mouth. 
 
 " If you tell him, I'll I'll hate you, McGlusky." 
 
 " Verra weel, A'll no' tell. Le' go ma beard, A'm no' 
 an airship breakin' fra its moorin's, A'll no float awa'." 
 
 Maida freed the digger and sank back on her pillow, 
 and her pain was evident. 
 
 "Bide still, ye fule lassie," crooned McGlusky, as if 
 speaking to a sick child, " ye'd na beesness ta try an' 
 sit oop after th' kick A gied ye." 
 
 Snowey had hard work to suppress the chuckle in 
 his throat, for those words of the veteran's told him 
 the whole story.
 
 232 McGLUSKY THE GOLD -SEEKER 
 
 " A carried Maida here after after she fell doon th 
 hole on th' Sergeant's claim, an' we had a crack, 
 buckie ; A'll tell ye aboot tha' later ; wha' A want ta 
 say noo is th' Sergeant's claim's a duffer like th' rest 
 A selectit f r ye a'." 
 
 " Luck o' th' game : no one's goin' ter squeal, old 
 mate." 
 
 "A ken tha' weel, tha's why it hurts ma. Y're a' 
 sae dom loyal ta a leader." 
 
 " To a leader worth callin' a leader, yes." 
 
 "Weel, Snowey, yon lassie ha' been saltin' th' 
 Sergeant's groon' wi' nuggets." 
 
 " I shore knew it, I told you so at first." 
 
 " When did ye ken it ?" 
 
 "Th' day th' Sergeant struck th' first bunch of 
 nuggets." 
 
 " Hoo did ye guess ? " 
 
 " Didn't guess I saw her tracks fresh made in th' 
 dirt by th' hole where th' Sergeant found th' gold, an' 
 I sensed th' play." 
 
 "Snowey " 
 
 "Drop it out like gentle rain from heaven, old 
 mate." 
 
 " Don't ye see we've been leevin' on a a wumman ': " 
 
 Rage, shame, humiliation, all blended in the diL 
 rugged face and voice. 
 
 " I shore didn't see it at first, old mate ; I thought 
 she was doin' it out o* love f r th' Englishman, an' I 
 wouldn't spoil her play." 
 
 ' We shared what th' Sergeant found, laddie." 
 
 " Yes; I didn't think of it at the time, an' "hen I 
 did, I jest kep" 1 on hopin' one of us would strike it rich, 
 then "
 
 WHEN THE LOVE-BUG BITES 233 
 
 "Weel, wha' then?" 
 
 " Then I'd still have kept Maida's secret, but I'd ha' 
 made her take her gold back out o 1 my share o' our 
 find now the wallaby's in th' wheat -patch." 
 
 McGlusky stood between the man and the maid, his 
 rugged features working. 
 
 " Wha 1 can A dae ? " He threw his hands out with 
 a big gesture. " AVe never taken help fra a wumman 
 since A was weaned, an 1 A feel ma manhood's shamed, 
 an' A canna be wrath wi' sic a mate."" Then, very 
 wistfully, " Eef ye only had a dirty streak in ye some- 
 where, Snowey, so as A cud mak 1 an excuse ta hit 
 ye, just yince." 
 
 Snowey smiled. 
 
 " I'm not longin' fr any special marks o' affection, 
 old mate ; we got bushed over this job somehow ; 
 perhaps we'll find a way out if we don't get rattled. 
 It's gettin' near dawn, we'd better be shakin' a leg fr 
 camp ; th' whole damn valley will be hummin' with 
 talk about as clean as a dingo's den if any one sees us 
 leavin' come on, mate." 
 
 Possibly no men living know . the full meaning of 
 that simple word " mate " as the men of Australia and 
 New Zealand do : it means more than a blood tie ; it is 
 the bond of the bush, and the great open spaces, where 
 two who are mates are closer together than kinsmen or 
 sundered further than the poles. 
 
 McGlusky, with a curt farewell to the girl, went 
 away. 
 
 Snowey did not speak to the lass ; he just gave her 
 a look and a wave of his hand, and she pulled her 
 blankets round her, dressed as she was, and tried to 
 forget him and all her cares in slee p.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 THE INSPIRATION OF GINGER 
 
 THK Tiger Claim crowd were at breakfast ; an 
 unusual air of quietness and restraint hung over them ; 
 only Ginger and Butterfly seemed to have even a 
 remnant of the careless freedom characteristic of gold- 
 diggers generally. The Yankee, like the big, good- 
 natured boy he really was at heart, strove once or 
 twice to break through the reserve ; he started off by 
 rallying Ginger over a new handkerchief of gorgeous 
 colours the Irish imp had knotted round his throat. 
 
 " Say, kid, where did you assimilate that silk rainbow 
 you're wearin' ? Is it a love-token from th' little bit o' 
 honey-in-th'-comb at Th' Kangaroo an 1 Emu saloon, or 
 or somethin' y're wearin' as a sign you'll never drown 
 your neck in soap an 1 water ? " 
 
 " Ye belong to an enterprisin' an' inquisitive nation, 
 Yank, wid a jaynius fr mindin' other peopled busin- ^-. 
 You let me joy-nigs alone." 
 
 " I'll bet three fags she didn't give it to you, son." 
 
 " Och, thin, ut's a bet, an' you've lost, Butterfly. 
 She she forced ut on me, tied it round me neck wid 
 her own lily-white hands fork out them fair- ." 
 
 "Take 'em out o' th' three hundred an' sixtv-five 
 you owe me, son," gurgled the Yank, delighted at 
 having drawn Ginger so easily. 
 
 The Irish lad waxed scornful over this suggestion. 
 
 " A mate that expects ter get paid back f r I 
 234
 
 THE INSPIRATION OF GINGER 235 
 
 forced on a mate oughter be runnin 1 a money-lendm' 
 emporium in th' Bowery, 1 ' he jeered. 
 
 "If," chuckled Butterfly, " y'r little forgit-me-not 
 didn't have ter use more force ter make you accept that 
 silk panorama of a sunset an 1 a moonlit risin' badly 
 mixed than I had ter make you smoke my fags, she 
 didn't bruise her fingers worth makin' a dirge about." 
 
 " Och, she gave it," grinned Ginger, " wid a grace 
 an' freedom, after Oi'd admired ut verbally ter some 
 extent a grace an' freedom, Butterfly, that made me 
 feel Oi was conferrin' a favour on her by acceptin' ut ; 
 there's a way ter give a prisent, an' a way ter accept 
 th' same, Yank." 
 
 " You sure do excel at th' acceptin' end, kid." 
 
 " Ut's a gift Oi've got, an' Oi cultivate me gifts, 
 savee ; she gave me a silver cigarette-case on me 
 birthday/' 
 
 " How many blessed birthdays do you have a year, 
 son?" 
 
 "Oi conjure up wan, Butterfly, whiniver Oi see 
 things comin' my way." 
 
 "A hope ye didna ask th' lassie fr yon siller fag- 
 holder, wee buckie." 
 
 " Ax her ? Me ? No, sorr ; Oi happened ter say that 
 was th' first thing Oi was goin' ter trate meself to 
 when our old claims run into luck ; she happened ter be 
 helpin' herself ter a fag out av ut at the moment ; we 
 was doin' a bit av a pasear in th' moonlight at th' time, 
 sorr." 
 
 " A'm theenkin' A unnerstan', ye blastie." 
 
 " She didn't rise to it at first, so Oi sang f r her as 
 we walked ; she's alwis at me ter sing, an' Oi sung Tli 
 Bright May Moon is shintn', an' she slipped her hand
 
 236j [ McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 in mine when Oi put th' tremolos in bedad, th' moon- 
 light's th' time ter put th' comether on a lass, ut L 
 under their hair an' drives ' em loco. Th' silver 
 cigarette-case didn't seem ter be comin* my way very 
 fast, so Oi sang Kiss me, an" 1 say Good-bye-e-e ! " 
 
 " Weel, and wha' happened ? " 
 
 "Th' cigarette-case happened, sorr." 
 
 " If you ever do meet th' right girl, son, I hope th' 
 love- bug bites you where it hurts most." 
 
 The freckles on Ginger's face seemed to stand on 
 edge, so wide was his grin when he heard Snowey's 
 pi thy 'speech. 
 
 *' Love," he jeered, " Oi'll give yez my recipe f r 
 stoppin' th' bite av th' bug from spoilin' y'r appetite 
 ut's love 'em promiscuous an' an' bid 'em ajoo." 
 
 "Weel, come an* mak' love ta y'r dry-blower, ma 
 mannie, f r if we dinna strike a patch come Saturday, 
 we'll ha' ta quit." 
 
 Ginger rose excitedly. 
 
 "Bedad, sorr, Butterfly's blether about faymales 
 drove me drame out av me head." 
 
 " Did ye dream ye were working sonny ? " 
 
 " Oi did not, sorr, be Mary, that's no drame 
 
 Worruk, hard worruk's th' purgatory av motion." 
 
 The old digger was proceeding to his daily duties, 
 when the imp pulled his sleeve. 
 
 "Sorr " 
 
 " Weel, ma buckie ? " 
 
 "Oi want to tell yez me drame, sorr." 
 
 " Cut it oot, laddie, things air no 1 weel wi" 
 
 " Let me t^ll ut you, sorr, five times Oi've drained 
 th' same things about th' Tiger." 
 
 " Meanm* ma claim !' "
 
 THE INSPIRATION OF GINGER 237 
 
 " Th 1 same, sorr." 
 
 " Dinna play wi 1 ma, ma wee mannie, ma hairt's gey 
 sore th' morn." 
 
 "Is ut, sorr?" Ginger crept close as a dog that 
 loves its master does : " Oi wudden't hurt ye/, sorr ; 
 Oi'd cheat a church ter get th' ointment ter aise y'r 
 sores, sorr, Oi wud, an' ye know ut." 
 
 " Wha' were y'r five dreams, buckie ? " 
 
 The digger's voice was gruff, but his hand passed 
 lovingly over the red head lifted towards his own. A 
 tremor of excitement crept into Ginger's voice. 
 
 " Sorr, I dramed Oi saw yerself pull doon y'r Tiger 
 banner." 
 
 "Tha' wull come true, A fear, fr, laddie, we're 
 broke." 
 
 " Och, we're not ; Oi belave me drame. Oi saw 
 yerself an' me an' Snowey sinkin' a hole like a well, not 
 in clay, sorr, but in th' white cement at th' bottom av 
 our claims, th' stuff yerself calls bed-rock." 
 
 " Wha' did we strike, buckie watter ? There's a 
 sma' fortune in watter right here, eef we cud strike it." 
 
 " Water ? Be Mary, ut was not water, sorr, ut was 
 gold. Oi saw yerself pull out a lump av cement as big 
 as y'r head, all stuck tergether wid gold, sorr ; ut was 
 not like th" 1 gold we get in th' clay, ut was all threads 
 an' knots, an' every thread burnished like a bay 'nit. 
 Oi've never seen gold like that. Oi woke up sweatin'." 
 
 McGlusky stood frowning. 
 
 " Ye belave me, sorr ? " 
 
 " A dae, mannie ; ye'd be fit f r na ither place tha' a 
 cage in th' Zoo eef ye were leein' ta ma noo." 
 
 Snowey, who had been listening attentively to the 
 dream stoiy, put in a few words.
 
 238 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 " Do you remember th' gold that was found in 
 cement at Kanowna before the war, Mac .- " 
 
 "Ye mean th' place th' boys called 'The White 
 Feather 1 ? " 
 
 " Yes, that's what th' diggers christened it before th' 
 gold was found in cement." 
 
 "A mind it weel ; A went ta peg oot a claim 
 there, but A got wind o' it too late. Ma certie, 
 tha' were gold an' noo A come ta theenk o' it, th' 
 cement were held thegither wi' threads an' knots 
 o' polished gold, just as Ginger says he saw in his 
 dream." 
 
 "Ever hear or read about th' cement claims at 
 White Feather in West Australia, kid?" 
 
 " Oi niver heard or read av y'r auld White Feather 
 or Kanowna ayther, Snowey." 
 
 Mannie," interpolated the old digger, "A'm gawn 
 ta follow y'r dream an' see if it's a true vision." Then, 
 turning to the Sharpshooter, he added : " Ye ken, 
 Snowey, oor speerit frien's often try ta help us, but f'r 
 some reason they canna mak' us unnerstan' at time* ; 
 then, eef there's a fittin' instrument near by, they 
 it, an' gie us th' knowledge we desire. A kenned a 
 racin 1 mon yince who had an eediot son, an' a week 
 before th 1 Melbourne Cup was ta be run, th' eediot 
 used to look at his daddv every mornhf at breakfast 
 an 1 say solemnly G-L-E-N-L-(~)-T-H' just tha' yin 
 word an' nae mair, an' th 1 racin" 1 man, who always had 
 a bet on th'. Melbourne Cup, asked th" bookmakers wha' 
 price they wad lay Glenloth, a horse tha" 1 had r. 
 won a race, an' they chased him all ower Melbourne wi' 
 offers of ahunner pounds ta yin." 
 
 "A hundred to one, Mac; yes, that was Glenlo
 
 THE INSPIRATION OF GINGER 239 
 
 price ; he started at that ; I had five bob on him, for 
 th' sake o' the odds, an" 1 he won." 
 
 "He did," said McGlusky "he won in a thunderin 1 
 heavy doonpour o' rain. A was there, an 1 th 1 blastie 
 never won anither race ta th' day o" his death, no 1 yin." 
 
 " Och, sorr, did y'r racin' friend back ut afther th' 
 tip he got ivery mornin' for a week ? " 
 
 " He did not, Ginger ; he said a horse th' bookies 
 would lay a hundred to yin aboot on th' day o' th' 
 race cudden't have a thoosan' ta yin chance o' winnin', 
 an' he backed th' favourite an' dropped a packet." 
 
 Sorr " 
 
 " Weel, buckie ? " 
 
 " Who did yez say was th' idiot in that family th' 
 daddy or th' son ? " 
 
 Snowey gurgled in his throat, as he saw how the imp 
 had turned the tables on the pioneer and driven home 
 the moral of his dream. For a moment McGlusky 
 looked as if he'd like to swing a leg in Ginger's direction, 
 but his eyes twinkled. 
 
 "Ye snapped ma wind tha' time, ye blastie. Noo 
 come awa', we'll see th' stuff dreams air ma' o'." 
 
 Grimly he had looked at his "banner," the Tiger 
 colours he had always sworn should float over his 
 native land, if a republic came in his day. 
 
 " Noo f'r th' luck o' th' Tiger." 
 
 He hauled down his colours, and he, Ginger, and 
 Snowey set to work as if their lives depended on it, to 
 clear away the little patch of solid earth that alone 
 remained intact on the old digger's claim. The two 
 experienced men worked as if fired by the frenzy that 
 at times comes to diggers when they feel their star is 
 guiding them ; Ginger, burning with the gambling
 
 240 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 mania so often inherent in men of his race. When 
 they reached bed-rock and the bluish-white cement, 
 pretty near as hard as granite, lay under their feet, 
 Snowey and McGlusky stood upright and looked haul 
 into each other's eyes. They were both thrilling, but 
 each knew how to hold the safety-valve of feeling by 
 the throttle. 
 
 " Put in a shot now, eh, Mac ? " 
 
 "Aye, buckie." 
 
 The pioneer clambered up out of his claim, strode to 
 his tent which he had shifted to a piece of waste ground 
 a week earlier, and soon returned with hammer, drill, 
 dynamite, fuse, and detonators. 
 
 Mac knelt with the drill gripped in his two hands. 
 
 " Beat f r ma, Snowey." 
 
 " Let th' kid have th' first few strokes f r luck, Old 
 Sport it's his dream." 
 
 " Richt, Snowey. Losh, but ye've th' marrow o' bush 
 justice in y'r innards." 
 
 Ginger was overjoyed, so much so that the first 
 stroke of the heavy hammer nearly ended the veteran's 
 interest in the claim, and everything else earthly. 
 
 " It's th' steel drill ye ha' ta drive inta th' cement, 
 no' me, laddie," he cooed, and Ginger flushed under the 
 sarcasm, and struck a few blows steadily and truly. 
 
 " N'oo gie th 1 hammer ta Snowey, an" watch hoo th' 
 Anzacs work." 
 
 " Oi will that ; th' auld crystal-gazer in Agypt said 
 Oi was meant fr an overseer,"" giggled the imp, and 
 then Snowey made the big hammer fly, and the old 
 digger turned and twisted the drill with hands that 
 gripped like a vice. 
 
 Two holes they drove into the cement, three feet
 
 THE INSPIRATION OF GINGER 241 
 
 deep, then in went a couple of plugs of dynamite into 
 each hole with the detonator well squeezed into each 
 top plug, and the fuse attached. Then came the swift 
 but careful tamping of the holes, the old digger using 
 the dust of the cement the drill had made, and all was 
 ready. 
 
 Butterfly and the Sergeant had been looking on, 
 keenly interested in the fateful experiment. 
 
 Ginger grew suddenly white to the lips ; he knew the 
 passion of hope he had roused in the hearts of the two 
 grim men he loved, and if the experiment were a failure, 
 there would be few sadder hearts than his in Anzac- 
 land. 
 
 " Steady, old son." 
 
 Snowey had seen the sudden pallor in the freckled 
 face, and he guessed the cause. 
 
 " Oi'm steady, Snowey, an', be Mary, Oi'll back me 
 drame." 
 
 "Soil I somehow," came the soft musical drawl, 
 " though when / dream of good luck, kid, a dog bites 
 me, or a horse kicks me, or a ' copper ' makes inquisitive 
 remarks concernm' my means o' gettin' a livelihood." 
 
 Then McGlusky's voice stopped Snowey's flow of talk 
 that had been set in motion in order to take the imp 
 out of himself and ease the strain on his emotional 
 nature. 
 
 " Shake a leg, Sergeant, an', Butterfly, get up an" gang 
 a distance an' look oot fr chunks o 1 cement comin 1 
 doon. Snowey, ye an' ma wee laddie, licht th' twa 
 fuses." 
 
 "No, sorr, don't break me drame, ut's your job." 
 
 The grim digger chuckled. 
 
 " Weel, A'll no 1 fecht wi' destiny." 
 
 R
 
 242 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 He struck a match. 
 
 " You young liar," whispered Snowey, "you invented 
 that last bit ; I read it in your ev< 
 
 "Stan* ready ta rin." 
 
 The next moment the two lengths of fuse began to 
 splutter fire sparks. 
 
 ** Come on, kid, a chunk of gold in the right place 
 can kill as well as lead, I guess." 
 
 They all three ran like school-boys on a frolic, and 
 clambered up the side of the Claim, and bolted a 
 distance for safety. 
 
 There was a sudden crash which caused men all along 
 the valley to stare in the direction of the Tiger Claim 
 in amazement, for no explosions had been needed to 
 break down clay, and no man had thought of the cement 
 underneath. The debris flew high, for the four plugs 
 of dynamite sunk at the proper angle had done their 
 work well. But stuff was still falling as McGlu>kv 
 leapt down to the hole ; he was not the man to fear to 
 look his luck in the face, good or bad. He knelt by 
 the cavity the dynamite had made, reached his big 
 hands down and wrenched away a chunk of loosened 
 cement about as big as his head, gave one glance at it, 
 and then rose to his full height and raised the lump 
 high above his head in both hands. His rough-hewn 
 face was like carven granite, but his eyes were bla/inj;. 
 His comrades pressed round him. No need to ask what 
 the luck was ; the cement was simply matted together 
 with gold, and Ginger's weird dream stood proven true. 
 
 Maida Lamarde had limped down to see why the shot 
 had been fired; she stood just outside the circle made 
 by the little group, and watched their exultation k< 
 
 Ginger was wild with delight, yet tried to curb his
 
 THE INSPIRATION OF GINGER 243 
 
 feelings as much as possible after the Anzac manner. 
 Butterfly Brown threw restraint to the winds ; he tossed 
 his old felt hat high, and when it fell he made a football 
 of it, then turned and playfully pommelled the Sergeant, 
 who for once forgot his British phlegm and gave as 
 good as he got. Snowey with one hand sunk deeply in 
 his breeches pocket, lounged near ; no stranger looking 
 on would have conceived the idea that the Sharpshooter 
 was co-equal with the others in the great discovery. 
 Butterfly jumped at him. 
 
 " Laugh, you graven image dance, sing, or bust up 
 in some human fashion, you you chip off the Sphinx." 
 
 "Look at him." As Snowey made this reply to the 
 Yankee's outburst, he indicated the old digger, who 
 still held the treasure aloft. " Looks like one o' th' old 
 Vi kin's, offerin* up sacrifice to Thor or Odin, don't he, 
 Butterfly ? An' ain't he proud ? He's bustin' with th' 
 pride o* success, not Pr th' gold's sake, but because 
 he's proved himself once again McGlusky the pioneer, 
 McGlusky the leader o* men. I tell you, Yank, he 
 ' sensed ' that gold th' day he hung his black an' yeller 
 shirt up f r a banner an* christened th' claim th' 
 Tiger." 
 
 The veteran proved the next moment how well 
 Snowey had gauged his real nature. Slowly he drew 
 his arms down, swiftly he stepped to Ginger's side and 
 thrust the glittering mass into the youth's hands. 
 
 "Th* firstfruits o' y'r dream, wee mannie." 
 
 The lad gripped the gift, fascinated as all men are 
 when first they see raw gold in quantity. 
 
 "Th' kid shore is a champion dreamer," remarked 
 Snowey with his slow half-smile, " Shake on it, son ; 
 when we go down ter see th' Melbourne Cup run I'm
 
 244 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 goin' ter put a race card under y'r pillow every night, 
 an 1 sleep with my ear agen your mouth to hear what 
 you say in y'r sleep." 
 
 " He's beat his old crystal-gazer ter blazes as a seer, 
 an 1 that's a fact," chortled Butterfly, but the veteran 
 digger brought them back to serious things. He raised 
 his hand with the old habit of command, enjoining 
 silence. 
 
 " Ma laddies, we owe a duty ta every mon on th' field, 
 an' we must pay it ; we've been verra lucky, an' th' old 
 grey gods usin' yon feeble eenstrument as their mouth- 
 piece ha' pointed th' way f'r us ; they dinna alwav- 
 th' michty an* th' strong, all doon th' ages we humans 
 ha' had proof tha' th' gods often choose their messengers 
 fra th' simplest o' oor kind." 
 
 He beamed on Ginger as if he had paid him the 
 highest compliment in his power, and Ginger, his keen 
 sense of humour tickled to the cracking point, bowed, 
 hat in hand. 
 
 " Och, sorr, don't flatter me ter death, share some av 
 that stuff out ter Butterfly, he's nadin* ut." 
 A gesture from the old digger silenced him. 
 "Ma buckies, we between us a' ha' mad' a gran' 
 discovery; noo we ha' ta spread th' news, so tha' na 
 sharps ma' get ta learn it, an' buy th' claims frae th' 
 diggers fr a song it's th' law o' th' wilds tha" na mon 
 shall hog th' earth an' th' fullness o' it. Snowey, gie 
 ma a tin dish, A'm gawn ta call a 'roll up.' " 
 
 He took one of the big tin dishes that had bet-i 
 for dry-blowing before he made the machines, and in 
 his other hand he held the steel drill. Standing on top 
 of hi> claim with his mates and the girl near by. In 
 a wild tattoo on the bottom of the dish.
 
 THE INSPIRATION OF GINGER 245 
 
 'Sounds like th' drummin' thim dancin' dervishes 
 used ter favour us wid in Egypt," commented Ginger. 
 " What does ut mane, anyway, eh ? " 
 
 " Look an' see," was Snowey's brief retort. 
 
 " Be Mary, he's set th' whole valley makin' tlT same 
 kind av music." 
 
 " He has, son, and don't you ever do it unless you've 
 got a good reason : no digger will refuse to answer that 
 call, not if he's wallowin' in gold, it's th' justice call o' 
 th' Anzac wilds." 
 
 It was as the Irish lad had stated. Every digger 
 hearing that wild tattoo seized a dish and beat it 
 furiously for a few moments, then, throwing the dish 
 down, strode towards the Tiger Claim. They did not 
 know what it meant ; it might be murder committed, 
 or gold-robbery, or the "jumping" of a claim they 
 would find out on arrival ; all that was evident was the 
 justice call had been sounded, and they went to see 
 justice done. 
 
 " Illigant-lookin' lot av stiffs," commented Ginger. 
 " Be gosh, Oi'm glad ut's good news we've got f r 'em, 
 they're comin' on like th' Anzacs did whin they bruk 
 th' German Guards, Snowey." 
 
 " They are th' Anzacs, kid : perhaps they didn't go 
 to the war ; lots o' them that didn't go or couldn't go 
 were as good as th' best that went." 
 
 In silence the crowd swarmed round the Tiger group, 
 hemming them in, as grim and dour a throng as day- 
 light ever shone down upon. There was no jesting, no 
 horseplay : a " roll up" that called diggers away from 
 gold was a serious thing. 
 
 McGlusky seized the crucial moment ; then his voice 
 
 oke out, vibrant, dominant, all-compelling
 
 24G McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 "Men o" th' wilderness, A've a word for y'r hi. 
 A'm na orator, na heart-string twister, just yin o' 
 yersel's a digger." He had that stormy crowd in a 
 grip like a vice with those few rugged sentences. Then : 
 " Ma name's McGlusky : ma mates an" 1 masel' ha 1 struck 
 gold in th' cement below th" 1 gold-bearin' clay ; it \\ a> 
 no' bedrock, but a false bottom, an' it's rich. 
 Look!" 
 
 He held aloft the chunk of cement he had given 
 Ginger : the sunlight made the gold sparkle. All eyes 
 were fastened upon it. There was a moment of mag- 
 netic silence, then a shout went up that sounded like 
 waves crashing on a coast line. 
 
 " McGlusky McGlusky McGlusky ! Three cheers 
 for th" 1 Tiger crowd." 
 
 Suddenly the veteran wheeled round, seized Gin_ 
 by the hips and held him high over his head. 
 
 " This is th' wean who found the gold ; this is the 
 gold-bug." 
 
 Another roar went up, and all pressed round to grip 
 hands with the Tiger crowd, and Ginger borrowed fags 
 until his shirt was well-nigh full. 
 
 Whilst the diggers were examining the new find, the 
 Sergeant slipped away and came back with the veteran's 
 horse ready saddled. 
 
 "I think you ought to take the good news along 
 the Big Valley too, Mac," he said simply, " or some 
 poor devil may sell his claim out, not knowing what 
 he's selling." 
 
 " Good fr ye, Sergeant ; AM clean forgot the Big 
 Valley." 
 
 He wanted them all to go with him, but thcv 
 him waste no time.
 
 247 
 
 "All gae on ma lonesome, then, an' gie th' gom- 
 merils a good cry." 
 
 He took the lump of gold-bearing cement, and rode 
 away at a flying gallop, a messenger of glad tidings 
 with j oy and pride bubbling in his heart. "Gie 'em a cry " 
 he did, and his cry set the whole field crazy with delight. 
 
 He had put a chunk of cement as big as his fist, 
 richly studded with gold, in his jacket pocket, and after 
 he had finished his ride down Big Valley, he pulled 
 bridle in front of The Kangaroo and Emu Saloon, and 
 whilst the crowd examined the lump of ore that he 
 had carried in front of him on the pommel of his 
 saddle, he quietly drew the dark-eyed little barmaid 
 whom Ginger had sung The Bright May Morn and 
 other songs to on one side, and thrust the nugget he 
 had carried in his pocket into her hand. 
 
 The pretty little thing was flustered with delight, 
 and looked at him coquettishly. 
 
 "Oh, Mr. McGlusky, I I didn't know I never 
 dreamt you thought about me at all." 
 
 " An' ye thocht richt, ma lass ; A wadna ha kenned 
 the differ between y'r face and a door-knocker maseP ; 
 th' bit gold is no' frae ma, it's a present frae ma laddie 
 Ginger. Y're ta get a gold cigarette-case made out o' 
 it in place o' th' siller yin ye gied him." 
 
 The girl crowed with delight. 
 
 " The darling, to think of me on the very first day 
 of his luck." She held her pretty face up to his cast- 
 copper visage, and her lips were like rosebuds breaking 
 into bloom. " Won't you take something back to him 
 from me, Mr. McGlusky ? " 
 
 He put his hand under her chin and tilted her face 
 far back.
 
 248 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 " Hoots an' a\va\ lassie, but y'r mouth looks s\ 
 enough to mak' a sober man theenk drunken tlmcht.s ; 
 na one ta look at yV lips wad theenk tha's th 1 place ye 
 bury y'r hash in. Na, na, A'll no' tak' anything bac-k 
 ta. th' laddie ; let him dae his ain collecthr ; a cherry 
 tha' needs twa ta bite it must be bitter ta yin an" 1 sweet 
 ta th' ither." 
 
 The crowd of diggers had left the Tiger Claim. The 
 Sergeant had strolled away with Maida Lamarde. 
 Butterfly was watering the horses, and Ginger, looking 
 strangely unhappy for such an occasion, was sitting in 
 a patch of salt-bush, fondling the ears of Maida's stag- 
 hound. Snowey strolled over to the dejected figure. 
 
 " Somethin' bitin' you, kid ? " 
 
 " Bitin' me, Snowey ? No, nothin" 1 would ; Oi'm too 
 blinkin' mean." 
 
 The Sharpshooter spread himself out on the ground ; 
 lying on his back he smoked, his hands clasped under 
 his head. 
 
 " Oi've half a mind ter saddle me horse an" 1 ride away 
 on me lonesome, matey fr good." 
 
 " Bad as that, son ? Well, if you've any blossoms o* 
 truth you'd like ter strew around, son, why, strew 'em. r> 
 
 " T-r-u-t-h." 
 
 The one word broke from the imp's lips with a 
 poignancy unusual in him. 
 
 " Been lyin' extra ter th 1 little bit o' fluff at Th' 
 Kangaroo an' Emu, eh ?" 
 
 " Och, thim ! Oi wudden't go into mournin' over 
 lies like them, Snowey; if we tell th' girls lies, they 
 shoot a fair share into us ; most girls can give a chap a 
 lap in a mile an' a bad batin 1 at fairy-tale telliif. This 
 this och, ufs different."
 
 
 THE INSPIRATION OF GINGER 249 
 
 " I ain't a padre an 1 can't give you absolution, an' I 
 ain't a gramophone an' don't repeat what I hear. If 
 you feel like it, an' think I can help any, why, let it 
 bubble out ; if not, bite on it." 
 
 " Yez remember me drame, Snowey ? Th 1 wan Oi 
 told th' Auld Timer Oi had five times ?" 
 
 "Th' gold dream, kid?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Shore thing I do. Was you sleepin' with y'r head 
 hangin' down when it came to you ? I'm goin' ter 
 sleep that way if you was." 
 
 " Snowey " 
 
 "Yep." 
 
 " Ut wasn't a a drame at all at all, ut was a 
 blinkin' lie." 
 
 Snowey smoked his fag right out. Then 
 
 " What made you do it ? " 
 
 " Oi durino ; it just came ter me, an' flopped right 
 out ; Oi didn't plan ter fool th' Auld Timer ; he was 
 talkin' of packin' up an' quittin' th' claim, an' some- 
 thin' inside av me jumped, an' Oi'd told him th' lie 
 about th' drame before Oi cud stop me tongue, an' 
 afther that Oi cudden't ate me words, an' an' Oi'm 
 a liar an' th' truth ain't in me." 
 
 " You shore are." 
 
 " Oi'll tell him before Oi slape ; Oi can't bear his 
 praisin' me. Oi Oi near blurted ut out when he lifted 
 me up to th' admirin' crowd. Oi'll tell him ter-night." 
 
 "Ginger " 
 
 " What is ut ? " 
 
 ' If you tell him to-night, or any other old night, 
 an' I'm around, I'll leave about as much life in you as 
 will last while an egg boils that's all."
 
 250 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Because he thinks some of his spirit friends planted 
 that dream under your red hair, an' he's happy ; you 
 let him keep happy, that's all." 
 
 Snowey rose and went back to camp, and met 
 McGlusky riding in. 
 
 " Where's ma wee laddie, Snowey ? ' ' 
 
 "Havin* a sleep out in the salt-bush, Mac; don't 
 wake him ; th' excitement of to-day has sort o' wore 
 him out." 
 
 " A won't. He's a wunnerfu* laddie, richt wunnerfu' 
 a bit o' a de'il in some things, but he ha' great gifts." 
 
 " Yes," answered the Sharpshooter ruminatively, " he 
 shore has." 
 
 The gold strike in cement set the whole field on 
 a new basis, for it was found that the precious metal 
 lay rich in all directions ; men became wealthy in the 
 course of a single week on many of the claims, and as 
 is so often the case, lots of them played the maniac 
 part of the beggar on horseback. Soon there were 
 plenty of sharps to help the improvident gang play 
 the fool ; gaming-hells sprang up like mushrooms in a 
 sheep-paddock after rain ; foreign syndicates of the 
 most degraded type of men imported batches of < 
 handsome women, whose avocation was not an exempli- 
 fication of the moral code. A new highway came into 
 existence behind Republic Highway, which was styled 
 the Boulevard de Lyndsie. Rows of gaudily decorated 
 cottages were erected here, and the denizens tor tin- 
 niest part were dames of doubtful industry, but un- 
 doubted beauty. They came from many quartt ; 
 the globe, those <lanie>(:) ; superhlv f'roeked and glit 
 ing with jewels that in many cases \\x-iv n-
 
 THE INSPIRATION OF GINGER 251 
 
 as the morality of their wearers, they looked strangely 
 out of place amid the dust and grime of a new mining 
 camp. Vienna, Paris, Petrograd, Tokio and many 
 another city East and West had been scoured for these 
 social outcasts, who had little but their beauty to 
 recommend them. All night long pianos strummed 
 incessantly, and champagne corks popped in the Boule- 
 vard de Lyndsie. Roulette wheels whirled and dice 
 rattled, and more packs of cards came and went in 
 a month than many a big city sees in a year. Chinese 
 laundries sprang into being; hotels were run up, 
 regardless of expense ; shops made mainly of galvanised 
 iron with plate-glass windows, displayed jewellery of 
 fabulous costliness ; boot and shoe and clothing stores 
 exposed to view silks, satins, laces, furs and footwear fit 
 for London, New York, Paris, or any other place where 
 wealth and fashion abound ; men who a month or two 
 before scarce knew the luxury of a second shirt, arrayed 
 themselves in purple and fine linen, and purchased 
 outfits for drabs that princesses might have envied. 
 A racecourse was marked out, and horses ran for great 
 stakes on a track as hard as iron. Cricket, that fetish 
 of Australian manhood, had swarms of followers ; 
 wickets made of coco-nut matting in lieu of grass were 
 much en evidence. An enterprising Scotchman laid out 
 a golf course, and he did not have to invent any 
 artificial bunkers; where the "greens" should have 
 been, but were not, he had the harsh brown earth 
 broomed level and covered with felt, and black children 
 of the sun-burnt soil, who a little while before had 
 been running wild, were pressed in as caddies. When 
 McGlusky first set eyes on one of these impromptu 
 caddies carrying a bag of clubs, he exclaimed
 
 252 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 " By St. Andrew, Snowey, luk at yon pagan wi' th' 
 clubs, there's naething between his nakedness an' th' 
 sun but his smile." Then, turning to the Scot who 
 had laid out the links, he said : " Mon, ha' ye no 
 respec' f'r th' decencies? Ecf ye've na claes Pr yon 
 black buckie, can ye no' paint white buttons doon th' 
 front o' his hide, ta mak' him luk as eef he was wearin' 
 a jacket?" 
 
 " Dinna fash," replied the Scot, " they'll be a'richt 
 soon ; A'm gie'in' them a cap apiece, each cap a 
 different colour, ta lichten up the scenery a wee bittie." 
 
 " VVeel, weel, A'm no grumblin', ye ken, gie them their 
 caps, an' paint on th' white buttons, an' they'll dae." 
 
 There was no more popular figure on the whole field 
 than McGlusky ; that speech of his to the crowd after 
 he had struck gold in cement, and his dashing ride 
 down the big valley to spread the news, had put 
 the seal upon his fame. He joined in all the fun of 
 the field, he even took a hand at cricket, but only 
 appeared in a match once; on that occasion a fast 
 bowler who at his zenith had played in an Australian 
 eleven, made the ball bump so badly on the coco-nut 
 matting wicket that Mac got bruised all over. After 
 the third blow with the ball, he strode down the pitch, 
 and remarked to the bowler 
 
 "Man, air ye shyin' at ma, or th' wicket? Gin 
 ye hit me again wi' th' ball, A'll whang ye ower th' 
 lugs wi' th' bat." 
 
 A little later, a fast one greatly overpitched took 
 him in the stomach. When he got up, some one had 
 removed his bat out of reach ; carefully pulling up 
 a stump, he went forward to interview the bowler, 
 remarking
 
 THE INSPIRATION OF GINGER 253 
 
 "A'd tak shame ta masel' eef A stood oop ta be 
 shied at an' didna gie as good as A got." But the 
 bowler had business elsewhere, and Mac retired from 
 cricket confiding to the Sergeant that he was " no bad 
 at throwin' bombs" himself, but he'd be "dommed" 
 if he thought much "o' it as a pastime." 
 
 It was the Sergeant and Snowey who gave the old 
 digger one of the most joyous surprises of his life. 
 When the race club came into being, the two chums 
 held a conference, and then Snowey announced that 
 he was homesick, he wanted to go down to the coast 
 and see his mother. 
 
 " A thocht ye told ma at Gallipoli tha' y'r minnie 
 were dead, laddie ? " 
 
 "I may ha' done," drawled the imperturbable voice 
 of the Sharpshooter. " It's my stepmother I'm going ter 
 see now, she's th' nearest thing in th' way o' mothers 
 I've got." 
 
 Which caused Ginger to remark when he got the 
 Sharpshooter to himself 
 
 " Och, Snowey, Oi'm not th' only wan in th' Tiger 
 Camp that can distend th' truth you and y'r step- 
 mother." 
 
 When Snowey returned from the coast, he brought 
 a couple of horses with him, which he put into the 
 capable hands of Phil O'Reilly, a horse-trainer whom 
 he had known before the war. 
 
 No sooner did the clever trainer run his eyes over 
 the horses than he laughed gleefully. 
 "Somethin' ticklin' you, Phil?" 
 "You've been burnin' money, Snowey." 
 "Why?" 
 " Couldn't have got those horses unless you did. I
 
 254 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 know "em both ; the colt is King Bolt races like a 
 hare and jumps like a buck." 
 
 " You shore seem ter size him up, Phil." 
 
 "I ought to, I rode him twice over the sticks and 
 won in a canter both times." 
 
 "Well," replied Snowey meekly, "th" mare's a bit 
 of a rockin' horse." 
 
 Again O'Reilly laughed. 
 
 "You know better than that; you've ridden your- 
 self too often as an amateur a nice amateur you were 
 too, Snowey that mare is The Swallow ; no one knows 
 what she can do from five furlongs to a mile an' 
 a half." 
 
 "Well, Phil, if you're satisfied, I ought ter be 
 seems I've stumbled on somethin' good f r once." 
 
 O'Reilly, retired jockey and present trainer, cleverest 
 and straightest of all the back-country brigade ot 
 horsemen, let one eyelid droop. 
 
 " Stumbled on "em by accident, did you ? I'd like to 
 see the butt of your cheque-book, Snowey." Then, 
 after another look at the horses : " They're both pretty 
 fit now, all I'll have to do is to keep 'em fit. Goin' to 
 race 'em in your own name, eh ? " 
 
 Snowey looked at the Sergeant, who had been 
 standing quietly by all the time, and the Englishman 
 answered the look by saying 
 
 " No, you enter the colt for the hurdles and the mare 
 for the cup, in the name of James de McGlusky." 
 
 " It's our surprise packet for th' Old Sport," explained 
 Snowey. 
 
 " It'll be a surprise packet for a lot of other people 
 too," grinned the trainer. " A lot of the clever 
 division have brought up horses for thoes two races, and
 
 THE INSPIRATION OF GINGER 255 
 
 are ringing 'em in under all sorts of names and pedi- 
 grees. I saw Storm Cloud come in a week ago, 
 carryin' a prospector's pack guess they only put it on 
 him a mile out of town." 
 
 " Sure it was Storm Cloud, Phil ? " 
 
 "I ought to be, I rode him five times wonderful 
 jumper, but he can't pace with King Bolt over any 
 distance." 
 
 " Seen any other horses you know, Phil ? " 
 
 "Lots. The Clown's here, entered town pulling a 
 light buckboard alongside another horse. They'll back 
 The Clown f 'r the Cup to their shirts." 
 
 " I shore think The Swallow will keep The Clown 
 movin', son." 
 
 " Give him a stone, an' turn round in the race, an* 
 then beat him. If you want to make any money on 
 your two horses, don't enter them till the last minute, 
 an' lay against all comers, bar your own, before the 
 nominations are made public. I'll never have the 
 clothes off those two until then." 
 
 " Well, we're not out for money this time, Phil ; th' 
 Tiger Claims are lookin' after that end for us nicely, 
 thank you ; but we want the Old Sport to have a real 
 bit o' joy-cake f r once. All th' same, I'll shore go after 
 th' clever division for a bit o' their surplus coin f 'r th 1 
 fun o' seein' their faces at th' finish. Is Ike Moss here ? " 
 
 " Yes ; he and a chap called Rooney have brought up 
 The Clown and Storm Cloud." 
 
 " Rooney ! Phil, that's better'n good news from home. 
 We'll land them twins, Ike Moss and Rooney ; I've owed 
 
 Ike a love-shake for a long time, and Rooney " 
 
 His strange eyes looked away into distance, and Phil 
 understood.
 
 256 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 " What about colours, Snowey .- " 
 
 "Brought 'em with me, O'Reilly." 
 
 Carefully Snowey undid a parcel he had been nursing, 
 and out rolled a lovely yellow-and-black silk jacket 
 and cap. 
 
 " The Tiger's colours."" 
 
 It was the voice of the Sergeant, deep with exultation. 
 
 "Only seem ter have forgotten one thing fr a clean- 
 cut scoop, Snowey." 
 
 " Give it a name, Phil." 
 
 " A boy to ride The Swallow." 
 
 " I counted on you, son." 
 
 " Can't be done," answered Phil ruefully. " I'll look 
 round and see if I can pick up some one." 
 
 " Guess there will be plenty who can ride knocking 
 the dust up in these regions, but not many I'd like to 
 trust ; they mostly belong to the clever crowd, but you 
 may find a peach." 
 
 " Why not ride yourself, Snowey ? " 
 
 " Too heavy f 'r th' mare by a long chalk, Sergeant, 
 but if we're stuck, I'll try a rattle over the sticks on 
 King Bolt, his style suits me, races like the devil at 
 his jumps, he does." 
 
 " It's over or break your neck with him," laughed 
 Phil. " All the Bolt breed were like that all you had 
 to do was to sit 'em an' let 'em go, they'd do th' rest." 
 
 Butterfly and Ginger were let into the secret, and a 
 more furious youth than Ginger it would have Ixvn 
 hard to find. 
 
 " You an' y'r auld stepmother," he snarled at Snowey. 
 ' Y're a cat that kapes all th' crame ter yerself. Why 
 cudden't me an' th' Yank be in ut .- " 
 
 "I don't think you've been quite on the level with
 
 THE INSPIRATION OF GINGER 257 
 
 me an' th' kid, you two," contributed Butterfly, " this 
 treat o 1 yours will go right under th' old digger's 
 armpit he loves horses an' he loves racin'. You shore 
 should ha' let us in on th' joy-floor." 
 
 " He's got a grand secret av his own : he's put that 
 horse he rode on ter th' field in trainin', an' he's goin' 
 ter ride ut himself in th' jumpin' race." 
 
 "Won't have an earthly." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 "A great hack, beat a race-horse ter blazes in th' 
 bush, can jump too, but racin' over two miles is different, 
 an' he's near fourteen stone in th' saddle." 
 
 " Be Mary, y're right, Snowey, in that, but ye were 
 blinkin' well wrong ter lave me an' th' Yank out av th' 
 present ter me auld man. Come on, lave 'em to ut, 
 Butterfly, we'll spring wan on thim f'r this." 
 
 There was very little doing in the way of gaiety in 
 Canvas Town that the Tiger crowd were not in. The 
 Sergeant started a private theatrical company, and as 
 there were several good professional actors on the fields 
 who had turned gold-diggers, he made a great success 
 of it. Butterfly was in constant demand as a raconteur 
 at all kinds of gatherings, and his quaint humour and 
 unbreakable good temper made him vastly popular. 
 As for Ginger, he must have had a good stock of 
 common sense behind all his freakishness, or his head 
 would have been turned by the popularity he achieved. 
 His singing and his gifts with nearly every kind of 
 musical instrument, from a mouth organ to a grand 
 piano, ensured him a warm welcome. Snowey was the 
 one member of the Tiger crowd whose company was not 
 sought; he seemed to hold men and women too at 
 arm's length ; always civil, never noisy or exuberant, he 
 s
 
 258 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 somehow seemed to cast a chill over merry-makers, and 
 without intending it, he began to drift apart and move 
 alone. The Tiger Claims were all turning out rich 
 supplies of gold ; hired men were put on each claim, 
 and the owners supervised the work. They had money 
 to bum, and they burnt a good deal. At times the 
 Sharpshooter put in a night at the gaming-rooms and 
 gambled in a manner that set the whole camp chattering, 
 yet taking one night with another, his weekly losses 
 were not heavy, luck seemed to wait on him. Brannigan 
 the gamester once remarked 
 
 " Anzac Snowey is about as good a loser an' as cool a 
 winner as I've run into up to date. Ever see a swan 
 dive?" he added, appealing to his audience. "Well, 
 I have ; they dive an' come up again an' nary a feather 
 in their outfit ruffled, an' that's Anzac Snowey when 
 he's on th' gamble I like him." 
 
 " He can afford to lose, an' lose heavy," interjected a 
 lucky digger known as Magpie Kelly. 
 
 "So can you," snapped Brannigan, "but Fm durned 
 if you've learned how ter do it gracefully. When you 
 drop a packet, you moan like a fog-bell, an 1 when you 
 win a pot you whoop th' roof off. He's not built like 
 that ; he'd stake his whole claim an' lose it, an* then 
 stroll away an' shave, an' his hand wouldn't shake 
 enough ter make him crack th' skin." 
 
 Canvas Town sized Snowey up much on the lines of 
 Brannigan's speech, but he was let severely alone. He 
 often went to the dance-halls, but for the most part he 
 lounged apart, and seldom danced. At odd times a 
 mood of movement would possess him, then he would 
 dance, and the women he danced with at such period^ 
 would talk about it for weeks. Now and then he met
 
 THE INSPIRATION OF GINGER 259 
 
 Annie Laurie. Sometimes he danced with her, some- 
 times he pleaded fatigue, but never if Rooney was 
 round ; if he saw Rooney move towards the girl, he 
 invariably forestalled him, and did it in such a manner 
 that men wondered Rooney did not quarrel, he was fast 
 enough to make or accept a row with other men, but 
 not with the Sharpshooter. 
 
 "Guess Rooney knows brimstone when he smells it," 
 was Brannigan's remark after hearing some one speak of 
 the pair; "and," he continued, "it'll be brimstone fr 
 one o' them if they ever do get goin'." 
 
 Maida Lamarde had kept away from the dance-halls 
 after the night she had been hissed, but on some errand 
 or another she was very frequently in Canvas Town, 
 both by night and day, and she and Annie Laurie were 
 very friendly, in spite of the fact that each guessed the 
 other would have gone through purgatory for the same 
 man. 
 
 At times another mood would get possession of 
 Snowey; he would saddle up and go for long, lonely 
 night-rides, no man knew where, no man knew why. 
 Often on such occasions Snowey would meet Trooper 
 Jim doing his dreary vigils in the saddle, and great 
 good feeling sprang up between them. Once Trooper 
 Jim asked 
 
 " Did you fellows on the Tiger ever hear how hard 
 ou hit Rooney the day you struck the deep lead." 
 "No, but I ain't goin' into mournin' if we did." 
 "Thought you wouldn't. None of your crowd like 
 him." 
 
 "We don't kill any fatted calf when he's round." 
 " So I've heard. Why don't you like him, Snowey ? " 
 " Well, Jim, my mate Butterfly Brown answered that
 
 260 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 same question this way: he said, 'I don't like him; 
 when I was a kid I didn't like rattlers in th' grass, an' 
 we shore had some to home, an' I extend th' same 
 views ter Mister Rooney.' An', Jim, I go nap on Butter- 
 fly's sentiments, they fit me better'n patent-leather 
 boots." 
 
 Trooper Jim ruminated over this for a while ; then 
 
 " Butterfly don't seem to me to be the sort to make 
 a chap like Rooney sit up an' scare." 
 
 " Butterfly ain't a hog f 'r trouble, that's a sure 
 thing, Jim, but take this from me an' I know th' man 
 that makes Butterfly start on trouble will pray f r 
 peace." 
 
 "That so? Well, he's a nice chap, that Yank. 
 Now I'll tell you how your Tiger crowd hit Rooney 
 where it hurts. About an hour before McGlusky rode 
 into Big Valley with his cement nugget and the news of 
 the strike, Rooney sold out his claims to Johnson, the 
 storekeeper, for a song an" 1 a suit o' clothes." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Well, he'd put most of his dirt through an* did 
 pretty well. Johnson had brought up a new-fangled 
 machine and reckoned he'd put all the dust through 
 again, and get a lot of fine gold, and when Rooney heard 
 of you fellows on the Tiger striking it rich in cement, 
 he was pretty near as sore as a man could be and live." 
 
 It was after one of those long, lonely rides that the 
 Sergeant, who had waited up for him, said 
 
 " Seen Maida Lamarde lately, Snowey ? " 
 
 " Seen her at a distance, that's all. Why ? "" 
 
 " She's bought out the Crab-apple Restaurant, and got 
 her mother up to manage it."
 
 THE INSPIRATION OF GINGER 261 
 
 " Shouldn't have thought she'd want her mother to 
 work at her time o 1 life: Maida's got lashin's o' 
 money." 
 
 " Got me in a bit of a knot, Snowey, f r Maida isn't 
 mean." 
 
 "Not a mean streak in her, son." 
 
 " I went there to dinner to-night, and I got a shock, 
 Snowey." 
 
 " What hit you ?" 
 
 " You haven't forgotten that dog that was wounded 
 the night Maida's father was shambled ? " 
 
 " You bet I haven't. He was all shot up an' seemed 
 ter me ter be paralysed in th' hind-quarters." 
 
 "So the poor brute was, and it's paralysed still." 
 
 " Has she brought it on to the field ? " 
 
 " She has, and it's at the Crab-apple Restaurant. 
 Maida has planted a big wickerwork armchair against 
 the wall, full of soft cushions, and the dog lies on that, 
 with its big unfathomable eyes fixed on the door all the 
 time." 
 
 " Queer stunt that, eh ? " 
 
 " Y-e-s ; and, Snowey, that dog hasn^t got a lot of love 
 for Maida Lamarde." 
 
 " Sure thing ; I noticed that at their old home. I'm 
 not one o' th' impressionable sort, Sergeant, but them 
 big, sad eyes seemed ter me ter be accusin' th' girl of 
 of nothavin' played th' game." 
 
 " Gave me that sort of feelin' to-night, Snowey." 
 
 Ginger, who had come to the tent, put in his verdict : 
 " Oi saw th' dog too, an' thim eyes av th' lovin' auld 
 dog didn't seem ter be sayin' that ter me." 
 
 " What did they seem to say to you, kid ? "
 
 262 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 " Och, thin, they was dumb eloquence-, thim eyes, an' 
 they shouted ivery time they fell on th' girl, ' Guilty, 
 ye , an* Oi'll prove ut yet.' ' 
 
 " I think you're shore wrong, kid, but I do believe 
 Maida's got something on her conscience connected with 
 her father's death." 
 
 " I don't think she knows any more about it than I 
 do," snapped the Sergeant.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 BUTTERFLY AND GINGER SCOOP THE POOL 
 
 NOT one word did the friendly conspirators tell the old 
 digger concerning the two horses secured for him ; he 
 went on watching the training of his hack for the 
 hurdles in blissful ignorance of the fact that King Bolt, 
 the crack hurdler, was his. Phil O'Reilly had a mouth 
 that Snowey said couldn't be prised open with a crow- 
 bar, where a racing secret was concerned. When and 
 how he worked those horses no man knew but himself 
 and possibly Trooper Jim, who so often came home in 
 the dawn. This much was certain, none of the boys 
 Phil employed ever saw either King Bolt or The Swallow 
 with their clothes off. Phil rode them himself, and 
 religiously locked them away, each in its loose box, 
 when he came back from exercising them, and he fed 
 them and groomed them with his own hands, with a 
 little occasional help from Snowey, and the Sergeant. 
 
 The Sharpshooter had commissioned a bookmaker of 
 his acquaintance to lay against Rooney's horses even 
 before the nominations were formally announced. 
 
 When at last the entries became public property, and 
 McGlusky's name figured against King Bolt and The 
 Swallow, a very happy little party lunched at the Crab- 
 apple, and the beaming veteran was installed at the 
 
 263
 
 264 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 head of the table in a private room, and it was there 
 that the news was broken to him. Snowey was forced to 
 do the speech-making, and he did not do it very 
 brilliantly. 
 
 " We shore thought, Old Sportsman, you'd like to win 
 th' Hurdles an' Cup, so I got a couple o' mokes, an* Phil 
 O'Reilly is lookin' after them, an' " he unfolded the 
 Tiger colours as he spoke, and tossed them to Mac 
 " we all hope you'll see this jacket an' cap there or 
 thereabouts at th' finish." 
 
 " Wha' ma' th' names o' the twa mokes be, Snowey ? " 
 " King Bolt and The Swallow." 
 
 McGlusky gasped, for he knew the pedigree of every 
 good horse before the Anzac public. 
 
 "Ma certie, buckie, but ye didna buy them iu a 
 fish-market." 
 
 He was good to look upon in that hour, with the 
 mates who had followed him through so many scenes of 
 peace and war around him. 
 
 "Y're jest fine," he said simply, and the knotted 
 cords of his great throat swelled and his voice was 
 husky. Then he laughed and removed the tension. 
 " An' me trainin' ma hack, an' theenkin' ta ride th' 
 beastie ma ainsel', because it is ta be a bush-meetin'." 
 
 " Lots of hot stuff will be stripped for this same 
 meetin', Mac ; Th' Clown is here, an' Storm Cloud, an* 
 O'Reilly says he'll take his oath he can recognise Silver 
 Arrow in a bright chestnut he's seen on th"* track, 
 though th' last time Silver Arrow raced he was a 
 beautiful grey, an' he's now called Red Roger, an* has 
 * no performances ' against his entry, an* those I've 
 mentioned won't die o' loneliness f r want o' th' same
 
 BUTTERFLY AND GINGER 265 
 
 sort o' company when they go into th 1 hands o' th' 
 starter." 
 
 " It's gran', buckies, it's just gran'. Th' clever crowd 
 will be hoist wi' a bomb o' their ain contrivin'." 
 
 " I shore think they will ; th' handicapper's a white 
 man, and he knows th' game ; a little bird whispered 
 ter me that th' handicapper spotted Storm Cloud and 
 The Clown, in spite of their assumed names an' th' 
 alterations that had been made to their appearances, 
 such as dyein' out white stockin's an' hoggin' manes an' 
 dockin' tails. I gave your horses' names, pedigrees an* 
 performances on th' dead level, an' I'm thinkin' virtue 
 will have its own reward from th' handicapper. You'll 
 get a fair packet o' weight, but you won't be crushed." 
 
 " A'm thanking ye, Snowey ; A wad no' hae it 
 otherwise. An', Snowey " 
 
 "Yes?" 
 
 " A'm no' proud, ye ken, but A'm glad ye didna forget 
 th' wee bit ' de ' ta ma name." He read the paper in 
 front of him : " The Chevalier Jamie de McGlusky's 
 colt, King Bolt, and filly, The Swallow. Noo, who's 
 goin' ta ride ma horses ? They'll be carryin' a lot o' 
 public money on th' day ; we must no' be at th' marcy 
 o' a wee waster wi' han's tha' can break a bridle, an' 
 na mair sense o' sportmanship than a pig has o' th' 
 laws o' property. Wha' about O'Reilly ? He's clever 
 an' game, an' he's straight as th' line o' a bee ta its 
 hive." 
 
 " Can't get Phil, Old Timer." 
 
 " Och, an' what's wrong wid Snowey f r th' jumpin' 
 race, sorr ? " 
 
 " A've always said ye were no' fit f r an eediot asylum,
 
 266 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 wee buckle. YeVe settled it in one shot. Na ither yin 
 shall carry Jamie de McGlusky's colours ta victor}'." 
 
 " I'll shore do my best ter give you a run f r y'r 
 money, Mac." 
 
 "Cut ut out," growled Ginger, "don't go blushin' 
 yerself ter death wid modesty, ut's ut's not natural." 
 
 "Who's ta ride ma mare The Swallow in th' Cup ?" 
 
 " I can't," said Snowey, " I can't do the weight." 
 
 "I'm afraid we're up against trouble there." 
 
 It was the Sergeant speaking, and he looked worried. 
 
 " Canna Phil pick up a boy he knows ? " 
 
 " He has, Mac, but he told me to-day he'd had th' 
 boy watched, an' he's almighty thick with Ike Mo--." 
 
 " I know Ike, he's too crokked to lie straight in 
 bed." 
 
 " Weel, Snowey, ef th' blastie ' pulls ' ma mare in th' 
 race fr th' cup, A'll tweest him an' Ike Moss thegither 
 like a piece o' knotted string. A'll ha* no stain on th' 
 name o' Jamie de McGlusky." 
 
 Ginger rose from the table, and beckoning to Butterfly 
 Brown, prepared to quit the room. 
 
 " Off, kid ? " 
 
 "Oi am, Siiowey." 
 
 " Somethin' pressin', eh ? " 
 
 "Och no, Snowey, me an' Butterfly are only goin' ter 
 try an' find a lovin' stepmother we we mislaid." 
 
 " Still sore, son, eh ? " 
 
 But Ginger tilted his nose in the air, and he and 
 Butterfly, as Ginger put it, removed themselves " wid 
 dignity." 
 
 Outside the Crab-apple the Yankee demanded a reason 
 for their departure.
 
 BUTTERFLY AND GINGER 267 
 
 "Are you hatchin' ideas, son, or harbourin 1 th' 
 hatchet o' iU-will?" 
 
 " Oi've got an idea, you've got ter hatch it, Yank." 
 
 "Well," grinned the big, good-humoured American, 
 " I'm shore some strong on actin' as an incubator fr th' 
 ideas o' genius. What d'you want me ter hatch, a a 
 horse or somethin' ter ride one ? " 
 
 " Come f r a walk out o 1 town, and I'll enlarge y'r 
 understandin'. Oi think Snowey an' th' Sergeant's 
 stumped. Phil told me he didn't think he could get'a 
 lad up here he cud trust, not one worth a bite out av a 
 ration- biscuit an' he said The Swallow wants some 
 ridin'. Come out av ut, an' get adjacent ter Nature." 
 
 Maida Lamarde and Annie Laurie were in the big 
 public room of the Crab-apple when McGlusky and the 
 other two mates came from the private room. Snowey 
 greeted the two girls in his usual off-hand nonchalant 
 manner. The Sergeant was cool and self-possessed, but 
 there was a strange, pained expression in his eyes. The 
 girls were both too strong by nature to let their feelings 
 appear on the surface. Annie Laurie, always quick 
 and full of resource, gave the veteran digger a merry 
 smile. 
 
 " So you've been springing surprises on the sporting 
 public, Mr. McGlusky ? " 
 
 Mac threw his hands out dramatically in the direction 
 of the two comrades. 
 
 " Blame them, ma lassie." 
 
 They stood chatting over the incident, and the girls 
 were admiring the racing colours, when the dog in the 
 chair by the door emitted a hoarse, menacing roar, and 
 vainly tried to struggle off its cushions, every fang
 
 268 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 bared, ready for action. It was a pitiful, yet terrible 
 sight. The brute could only lift its head, and balance 
 the front of its big body on its forepaws. 
 
 In the doorway stood Rooney looking straight at the 
 glaring, growling dog, his handsome face distorted by 
 an expression that seemed to match that of the hound. 
 Ike Moss was beside Rooney, but the dog never gave 
 him a glance ; in impotent fury it glared at the other 
 man, whose right hand had slipped down to his gun. 
 
 The little group of watchers stood spellbound by the 
 scene for quite a long time, then with a swift movement 
 Maida Lamarde passed from their midst and faced 
 Rooney, and as she did so, Snowey lounged to one side 
 so that the girl was not in a direct line between him 
 and Rooney, and his hand was on a revolver butt also. 
 His expression had not changed ; only his eyes had taken 
 on a queer lifelessness. There was nothing dramatic 
 about Snowey's pose ; every limb was loose and easy. 
 Not ten feet away from him was a man whom from the 
 first he had hated with a strange, unceasing hate, and 
 that man a noted gun man from the Texan border, 
 unless Trooper Jim's information was at fault. Never 
 did gun man have a better mark than the slender figure 
 of the ex-Anzac Sharpshooter made, with the white wall 
 of the dining-room behind him to set off his form. 
 
 For an instant Rooney gazed into the boyish-looking 
 face, and in that instant Annie Laurie instinctively 
 wrung her hands. Rooney's eyes blazed with the 
 instinct to kill, but the fire died out of his eyes, and 
 something that might have been called a smile twisted 
 Snowey's lips out of their habitual stern repose. 
 
 It was Maida Lamarde who spoke
 
 BUTTERFLY AND GINGER 269 
 
 " Mr. Rooney, where and when did my father's dog 
 ever see you before ? " 
 
 The girl had extended one arm, her index finger 
 pointed straight at the face of the frantic brute. 
 
 So they stood, a tense, highly-strung crowd ; nothing 
 was heard but a deep rumbling growl from the maimed 
 brute. 
 
 Then Rooney made himself master of the situation. 
 He lifted his hand from his gun, swept his broad- 
 brimmed hat off in mockery, and answered the girl 
 
 " I was just studying that interesting brute you 
 describe as your father's dog, Miss Maida never saw it 
 before in my life, and, pardon me for saying so, it's 
 hardly the kind of animal to keep in a business 
 establishment, is it ? " 
 
 He smiled as he spoke, the perfectly confident smile 
 of a man who felt himself master of his surroundings. 
 
 "The dog has seen you before and recognises you." 
 
 " Really ? I beg leave to doubt it.* 1 
 
 As he spoke, Rooney fixed his gaze on the eyes of the 
 brute, and walked carelessly forward, and stood so close 
 that he could have touched the animal's head with his 
 hand, and there he stood smiling. 
 
 A quiet, drawling, easy voice broke the silence. 
 
 "Game, Mr. Rooney dead game in front of a 
 paralytic." 
 
 Only a few feet separated Snowey from Rooney as he 
 let his taunt drift out slowly in measured cadences. 
 Again the light of the killer was in Rooney's eyes, and 
 again it died away. He looked pointedly from Snowey 
 to McGlusky and the Sergeant. 
 
 " You are three to one."
 
 270 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 " Ride out to One Tree Hill, and Til make it one 
 to'one, Mr. R-o-o-n-e-y." 
 
 The man stood pondering deeply for a good minute, 
 then 
 
 " All right," he said, " be there at noon the day after 
 the races." 
 
 " The day after, or the day before, or now any old 
 time will suit me. Mr. Rooney, or shall I say Mr. Le 
 Blanc ?" 
 
 If Snowey had expected to draw his man by the 
 utterance of the other name, he failed, for Rooney 
 curled his lip in a sneer and answered 
 
 " A rose by any other name would smell as sweet." 
 
 " Sae wad a skunk." 
 
 The interruption came sharp and sudden from 
 McGlusky. He drew his raw-boned figure to its full 
 height. 
 
 " Rooney or Le Blanc, yon dog ha' gie'd his judg- 
 ment ag'in ye ; noo hear a man's. Old Joe Lamarde, 
 yon lassie's father, were done ta death, there lies th" 
 only-.witness, an' as God leeves. A theenk y'r han's air 
 red wi' innocent blood ; yon dog ha' shown his teeth ta 
 na ither man but y'r ainsel'." 
 
 "Rather scant evidence to go to a jury with, my 
 uncouth friend, but if you think it will save your mate 
 from a meeting with me at One Tree Hill the day after 
 the races, why by all means try it." 
 
 " Will ye gang wi' ma noo ? " 
 
 " No, one tryst at a time." 
 
 "Oot an' awa', ye cluckin' hen wi' a cock-bmlV 
 feathers; ye'll no' dare face him in fair fecht ; tv 
 th' day ye've shown th' white feather; ye ha' th'
 
 BUTTERFLY AND GINGER 271 
 
 desire ta kill, but no' th' spunk ta tak' a fechtin 1 chance. 
 YeVe kep' weel oot o' ma way ever since A cam" 1 ta 
 camp keep oot o' it fra noo on, or All tweest y'r 
 innards an 1 spin ye wi 1 'em like a wean spins a top." 
 
 " You ought to have been a poet, sir, you would out- 
 Homer Homer." 
 
 So saying, Rooney sauntered out of the Crab-apple, 
 and joined Ike Moss, who had been awaiting him at a 
 discreet distance on the side- walk. 
 
 "That damned dog I thought it was dead long 
 ago," was all Rooney said, but Ike cursed all dogs 
 ancient and modern. 
 
 As the day appointed for the race-meeting drew 
 near, the excitement grew intense ; every one knew or 
 guessed that a number of good horses had been " rung 
 in "" under false names and fictitious pedigrees, and the 
 diggers spent money freely in the hope of finding out 
 the real " pea," for the claims on the deep lead were 
 turning out gold in quantities that made all previous 
 fields seem cheap ; the precious metal was in evidence 
 everywhere and some of the cement claims looked 
 like veritable jewellers' 1 shops. Cassidy^s " Golden 
 Hole" held the pride of place for a little time, only 
 to be supplanted by "Brophy's Nest o' Nuggets," 
 which in turn was outshone by " McPhee's Bed o' 
 Sovereigns," " The Bank of England," " The Scottish 
 Mint," and many another gorgeously rich show. 
 The two banks in Canvas Town were simply gorged 
 with raw gold, and once a week a coach drawn by six 
 fine horses and surrounded by an armed escort of stern- 
 faced troopers, carried a precious freight to the rail-head, 
 to be entrained to the coast.
 
 272 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 When the weights came out for the Hurdles and the 
 Cup, it was found that King Bolt had to carry eleven 
 stone, which was not surprising considering his well- 
 known quality and performances in good company, but 
 The Swallow was in the Cup with only seven stone 
 twelve. 
 
 "We can't complain,"" remarked O'Reilly to the 
 Tiger group, who had met in council. " The Cup's a 
 gift to us, if we can depend on the boy I've got ; and 
 the Hurdles, with Snowey in the saddle, ought to come 
 our way, but," he added with a laugh, " Snowey will 
 have to ride with his eyes wide open for trouble, there 
 will be one or two lads riding in the Hurdles who will 
 not stick at much if they have orders to bring a horse 
 down. 11 
 
 " I shall get up late that day, so's not to be caught 
 asleep in th' saddle," cooed the Sharpshooter. "I 
 know th' chap who rides for Ike Moss and Co., he's hot 
 stuff. All the same I've got one on him, for King Bolt 
 has the legs of th' field, an 1 he'll use 'em as soon as we 
 start." 
 
 " Snowey '11 deliver th' goods all right, an' it th' firm 
 o' Ike Moss and Co. don't go into liquidation after th' 
 races, don't call me Butterfly any more, call me Cater- 
 pillar Brown, an' a caterpillar with magenta spots on it." 
 
 " Been backing King Bolt, eh, Yank ? " 
 
 " I've shore been backing you, Snowey ; my little 
 deposit at th' bank will be some attenuated if your 
 quadruped ain't fired with high ambitions that day." 
 
 " A'm na worryin' aboot Snowey, it's th' wee de'il 
 wha' wull ride Th' Swallow tha' mak's ma tobacco taste 
 bad."
 
 BUTTERFLY AND GINGER 273 
 
 Ginger looked across at Butterfly and winked, and 
 the American thrust his hands deep down in his 
 breeches pockets, chewed his cigar and generally con- 
 ducted himself like a successful manipulator after a 
 magnificent coup. 
 
 " What blinkin' tragedy have you two dug up from 
 some one's potato patch ? " queried Snowey. 
 
 Ginger only whistled, and Butterfly bit on his cigar, 
 to the irritation of the veteran. 
 
 " Ginger, 11 he growled, " when ye try ta look like a 
 meestery ye dinna dae yersel' justice, ye look like 
 naething sae mooch as a walkin' advertisement fr a 
 hame f r th' ha'f-witted th' noo ; A've seen a ham look 
 mair intellectual." 
 
 " Compliments don't disturb me, sorr." 
 
 " Shoe-leather wull, ye limb o' Satan, eef ye sit 
 grinnin' at ma any mair. Wha' ha 1 ye been at ? " 
 
 " Is ut meself y're meaning sorr ? Thin OiVe been 
 backin' Th 1 Swallow. OiVe plugged every bookmaker 
 an 1 ' tote ' shop in Canvas Town. Butterfly sez his bank 
 balance will look consumptive if King Bolt loses, an' 
 me own well, sorr, mine will want crutches ter walk 
 wid if Th 1 Swallow don't bag th' Cup." 
 
 " Are you going it blind, kid, or have you somethin' 
 special under that red thatch ? " 
 
 " Somethin' special, Snowey ? Me ? No, only Oi 
 had a long lovin' letter from me stepmother all about 
 swallows, that's all." 
 
 With the air of two princes of the turf, the Yankee 
 and the Irish lad linked arms and swaggered off. 
 
 " Wha' does th' de'il's buckie mean by it ava ? " 
 
 " Dunno, Mac." 
 
 T
 
 274 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 " I think," smiled the Sergeant, " we can trust that 
 pair to keep their end up ; when they plan a thing 
 together, you've got to do some pushin' to get behind 
 their lines. They'll tell us when they're ready." 
 
 " You're on it, Sergeant. Let 'em alone, Mac, and 
 don't worry. Now I'm goin' ter sleep every night in 
 th' loose box with King Bolt till I ride him in the 
 race." 
 
 The Sergeant looked straight at Snowey. 
 
 " What for, mate ? Can't you trust im- ': " 
 
 " I shore don't catch your meanin', Sergeant." 
 
 " Well, I've been sleepin' in King Bolt's loose box 
 for a good while past, and O'Reilly has never slept out 
 of The Swallow's stable since he had her." 
 
 "You score, partner." Then, with his whimsical 
 twist of the lips, he added : " Th' Englishman has put 
 it across us, Mac got there first." 
 
 "Weel, he has, an* he hasna. A kenned he were 
 there, him an" 1 Binkie, Maida Lamarde's bull-bitch. A 
 went round yin nicht ta ha' a keek, an' Binkie didna 
 act like a lady ta ma ; A'm verra fond o' dogs, but no' 
 when they supply themsel's th' way Binkie did tha' 
 nicht it's a marcy A've no' ta ride in th' races." 
 
 Out of pure impishness, and from a desire to punish 
 Snowey and the Sergeant for not permitting him and 
 Butterfly to share the present of the horses to McGlu.sky. 
 Ginger refused to ease the discomfort of his comradt > 
 concerning his plan to upset Ikey Moss & Co. over the 
 riding of the mare Swallow, until the day before the 
 races. McGlusky was in a state of furious unrest, for 
 O'Reilly had informed him that the boy engaged to 
 ride the mare was beyond question in the pay of Moss.
 
 BUTTERFLY AND GINGER 275 
 
 " Better scratch the mare than let that boy ride for 
 you, Mr. McGlusky." 
 
 " Canna we mak' it worth th' blastie's while to ride 
 straight ? A 1 !! pay any price, Fr th' public money is 
 on ma mare." 
 
 " The gang have some hold over the boy other than 
 money, Mr. McGlusky." 
 
 Then Ginger and the American opened their surprise 
 packet. 
 
 " That boy ain't goin' ter ride f r you, sorr ; me an' 
 Butterfly have got a jock f r ye/." 
 
 "Who is it, kid? v 
 
 "Me auld stepmother's aunt, Snowey." 
 
 " You shore are a wasp when you're stung, kid." 
 
 " Well, you an' th' Sergeant bit me an' Ginger, an' 
 we're only fulfillin' th' laws o' natural history by bitin' 
 back, Snowey, but you can rest on th' downy pillow o' 
 content ter-night, matey, you got th' mare an' we've 
 got th' jockey to ride her, an' a smasher at that. Now, 
 keep it as quiet as a first-class elopement before it gets 
 in th' papers." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "Because we want Ikey Moss an' Co. to think 
 they've got The Swallow in th' bag ; we are goin' ter 
 make a financial assault on all the ' double books ' ter- 
 night ; they'll lay a good price about th' King Bolt- 
 Swallow double f r th' Hurdles an' th' Cup, because 
 they shore think they've got one horse in the bag." 
 
 "Just one thing tell me, does O'Reilly know of 
 this?" 
 
 " By Mary, he does ; Oi put ut to him as a racin* 
 saycret an' him on his honour not ter tell."
 
 276 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 "I thought Phil was takin' things mighty uncon- 
 cerned these last three days. Does he know the 
 jock?" 
 
 Ginger grinned his exasperating grin. 
 
 " Phil brought th' mare three miles out av town a 
 few days ago, in th' opposite direction ter th' race 
 course ; we met him at dawn wid our jock." 
 
 "Get on with it." 
 
 " No wan saw th' gallop but Trooper Jim ; he came 
 up promiscuous, from nowhere in particular, an' he acted 
 as starter. Phil was ridin' your hack, sorr, just fr 
 company f r th' mare." 
 
 " Did O'Reilly know th' jock when he saw him 
 ride?" 
 
 " He did not. He said : ' I know y'r face some- 
 where, but Oi can't place ye, but wherever ye sprung 
 from, ye can ride.' ' 
 
 "Wha's th' buckie's name, wee mannie?" 
 
 "Jim Sullivan, sorr." 
 
 " Has he got a licence, son ? " 
 
 " He has, Snowey ; Oi tuk it out f r him meself as 
 an amateur." 
 
 " Where th' de'il did ye fin' him, laddie ? " 
 
 "Lave that ter me an' Butterfly, sorr." 
 
 " I'll stake my astral existence, Old Sport, on two 
 things ; you'll have as good a rider on The Swallow as 
 you'll have on King Bolt, an' as honest a trier." 
 
 "Man Butterfly, yeVe added twa inches ta ma 
 stature. Now gang yV ways, an 1 plug th' double 
 books f r all y're worth, an" wha' ye dinna scoop oop, 
 A'll tak'. A'm goin* on th' warpath wi' my cheque- 
 book, an' wha' ye leave A'll eat."
 
 BUTTERFLY AND GINGER 277 
 
 The race day came at last, and every man, woman 
 and boy who could get there was on the ground. An 
 air of reckless, devil-may-care gaiety pervaded the 
 whole proceedings ; the gay crowds surged round book- 
 makers and Totalisators alike, and all did a roaring trade. 
 The Sergeant stood all the time close to King Bolt in his 
 stall on the course. Butterfly was closer than a shadow 
 to The Swallow, and neither would allow any one to 
 approach the horses, except O'Reilly, who moved close 
 by all the time, with eyes that never left his charges. 
 
 At last the long-planned-for moment arrived. The 
 Hurdles was the first race on the card. The ever- 
 careful trainer gave the final touches to King Bolt's 
 toilet. Snowey, wearing the Tiger colours, came out 
 from the weighing-room, saddle on arm, McGlusky, 
 proud as an emperor, striding on one side of him, 
 Ginger on the other. Snowey put his saddle on, and 
 the trainer tested girths and stirrups, and then McGlusky 
 tossed Snowey lightly to his seat. 
 
 " A've gied th' public a gude man an' a gude horse, 
 A can dae na mair. Y're both game, an 1 , losh, y're 
 both fit." 
 
 "Snowey darlint " 
 
 " Anything particular ? " 
 
 " Nothin', only me an' th' Auld Timer have plugged 
 th' Totalisator ter th' neck wid King Bolt money." 
 
 "Good boy." 
 
 The other horses were filing out, and a corking good 
 lot they looked, considering the pedigrees most of them 
 boasted on their nomination papers. 
 
 " Like a word from me, Snowey ? " 
 
 "Sure, Phil drop it out gently."
 
 278 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 " All the Bolt breed like to go away with a wet sail 
 and take their jumps flyinV 
 
 "Suits me too, Phil." 
 
 " Only one thing more if I were up on King Bolt, 
 I'd never let 'em crowd me to-day ; they're ripe for 
 mischief; a loose leg and a light heart, and let 'em 
 catch us if they can would be my motto." 
 
 "Thanks." 
 
 Snowey swung King Bolt round, and just then I key 
 Moss reached out a much-bejewelled hand to pat the 
 horse's neck, remarking 
 
 " Vy, he's fit to vin a fortune."" 
 
 But his hand never reached King Bolt. A big, 
 bony, almost fleshless fist, grasped Ike's wrist, and a 
 voice growled 
 
 " Ma horse is no 1 needin' yV help, man, an* A'm no" 1 
 needin 1 yV company." McGlusky gave the bookmaker's 
 arm a wrench that almost tore it from its socket. 
 " Dinna come a-nigh a beastie o 1 mine agen th 1 day, or 
 maybe All lay a han"* on ye in anger." 
 
 When the Tiger colours appeared on the course a 
 great cheer went up, for the diggers remembered how 
 the man who owned those colours had played the game 
 to them when he struck the deep lead, and many backed 
 his horse out of sheer sentiment, though many put their 
 money in other directions, not caring to trust it to an 
 amateur rider. 
 
 There was a little finessing at the starting-gate, and 
 Snowey soon picked the riders who were deputed to 
 prevent him from winning ; he recognised them by the 
 way they manoeuvred, but he made no sign. Wlu-n 
 the gate flew up King Bolt was in motion with the
 
 279 
 
 first flight. Two seconds told Snowey his horse was 
 full of racing, and he let him go. The conspirators in 
 the race being professionals, had counted on having a 
 soft thing in the amateur, but the first jump undeceived 
 them, for Snowey took his horse at it with a rattle and 
 skill that proved him no novice. Never had the great 
 colt had a rider that suited him better; all that he 
 asked for was to be let alone, and Snowey, who for 
 months had been aching for just such a wild, headlong, 
 reckless burst as this, sat still and gave King Bolt his 
 own sweet way. The rider on Storm Cloud called to 
 one of the conspirators to " Chase him and bump him.'* 
 
 " Chase him be damned ! " was the sullen retort, " he'll 
 bring all down that try to pace with him over the 
 sticks ; we're ' bit,' that's what's the matter with us." 
 
 When King Bolt had got over his first tremendous 
 burst which had made a great gap between him and 
 the field, he showed an inclination to yield to reason. 
 Gently Snowey drew the horse within himself, and held 
 him nicely together, but never dropping back, and 
 King Bolt, galloping like a machine, and jumping as 
 though he loved it, made hacks of his rivals, and the 
 ovation the pair received when they came in, led 
 by the steward of the course, was something to be 
 remembered. 
 
 Then the crowd surged around the owner, and 
 "McGlusky! McGlusky ! " was the cry, and Snowey, 
 his heart aflame with pride in the man he loved, forgot 
 his sphinx-like calm in the veteran's hour of triumph, 
 and standing in his stirrups, joined in the yell, but 
 Rooney, looking into Ikey Moss's eyes, snarled 
 
 "That settles it, I'm on the job to-night."
 
 280 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 Butterfly, watching the tumultuous mob of diggers 
 surging round the veteran, and hearkening to their 
 deep-toned cheering, opened his soul to the Sergeant. 
 
 44 Say, pardner, I thought these Anzac folk was noted 
 f r their soporiferous calm ; this shore is somethin' ter 
 write home ter mother about." 
 
 When McGlusky and the Sharpshooter at last got 
 away from their admirers, they at once cornered Ginger 
 and Butterfly. 
 
 44 Noo, buckies, we've trustit ye ta th' hilt ; where's 
 ma jockey f r The Swallow ? " 
 
 Snowey dropped a kindly hand on Ginger's shoulder. 
 
 44 Pull th' cork, kid, you've shore had th' bottle ter 
 yerself long enough. Where's Jim Sullivan ? " 
 
 "Over beyant, talkin' ter O'Reilly." 
 
 They looked, and saw a jockey ready dressed in all but 
 the Tiger jacket, a dark-faced boy with close-cropped 
 jet-black hair, and nice intelligent face. 
 
 44 Looks good to me, son. Say, is he a half-caste ? " 
 
 44 Oi didn't ask him." 
 
 44 Well, he looks like one a good deal darker than 
 a lot o 1 half-breeds I've seen." 
 
 44 What's bitin' ye ? He don't ride wid his complexion, 
 does he ? " 
 
 44 He's got mair than a touch o' th' tar-brush in him, 
 but A wad na care eef he were as black as ma boots, 
 gin he can ride an' ride straight." 
 
 44 O'Reilly's satisfied, sorr." 
 
 44 Eef tha's sae, weel sae am A. Phil's a gran' judge 
 o' a horse, an' a lad." 
 
 Just before the horses went out for the Cup, Annie 
 Laurie came to have a look at The Swallow.
 
 BUTTERFLY AND GINGER 281 
 
 " Hope you've put a bit on the Tiger crowd's mare ; 
 we've got a good chance, you know, Annie." 
 
 This was Snowey's greeting. 
 
 The girl laughed. 
 
 " Put a bit on ? My gracious, I should think I had. 
 Ginger and Butterfly simply drove me gambling mad ; 
 they made me back King Bolt straight out, and The 
 Swallow straight out also, and not content with that, 
 they mesmerised me into backing the double. I shall 
 simply be a bankrupt for life if The Swallow fails." 
 
 "Well, you've one leg in on King Bolt, an' I like 
 your chance for both." 
 
 "She's not a pretty mare, but she's fit. Tell me, 
 Snowey, are you sure of your jock?" 
 
 " Sure of nothin' on this planet, but Butterfly an 1 
 Ginger swear by th' boy Sullivan." 
 
 McGlusky just at that moment held out his hand ; 
 the jockey Sullivan put one diminutive foot into it, and 
 went up like a feather. Then Snowey looked up into 
 the swarthy face of the jockey as he was settling himself 
 into the saddle. Annie Laurie's eyes followed Snowey's 
 gaze. Jim Sullivan's face wore a frown of determina- 
 tion, his mouth was firmly locked, and he took the 
 owner's final instructions with a curt and comprehensive 
 nod. 
 
 " A'm trustin' ye, buckie, remem'er tha'. Y're but a 
 wee body an' A canna hit ye eef ye play me false, but 
 by ma sinfu' soul, gin ye dinna ride ta win, eef ye can, 
 A'll yank ye oot o' th' saddle when ye come in an' lay 
 ye across ma knee, an' A'll spank ye till tha' end is as 
 tender as a spring chicken, but if y're beat fair, A'll no 
 squeal, A'm no' tha' sort."
 
 282 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 There was a gleam of white teeth as Jim Sullivan's 
 lips parted in a smile at the old digger's grotesque 
 threat. The smile faded instantly, but Annie Laurie 
 caught a puzzled expression on Snowey's face. 
 
 " What is it ? " she asked. 
 
 " Can't quite make that half-caste jock out, he 
 puzzles me some." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Seem to know him, but can't place him. Does he 
 remind you of any boy you've seen before, Annie ? " 
 
 "No; you're developing nerves, Snowey." 
 
 " Perhaps I am. I'd hate to be beaten by some kid 
 Ike Moss had planted on us, but we'll soon know." 
 Then changing the subject abruptly, the Sharpshooter 
 queried : " Seen Maida Lamarde to-day ? " 
 
 " Yes, I was talking to her not long ago. Why ? " 
 
 " Nothin' much, only I wondered I hadn't seen her." 
 
 " Want to see her very badly, eh ? " 
 
 Do as she would, Annie Laurie could not keep a 
 tremor out of her voice. 
 
 " Want to see you an' her both pretty bad to-night. 
 I well, I've got a business engagement to keep 
 to-morrow." 
 
 " With Rooney at One Tree Hill. Snowev, Snowey, 
 you're mad." 
 
 " Most of us are, more or less, but you an' Maida 
 Lamarde dine with me to-night at the Crab-apple, eh ? " 
 
 " Yes ; I'll find Maida and arrange. But, Snowey, 
 you're not going to One Tree Hill alone to-morrow ? 
 Rooney won't play straight." 
 
 " Guess I'll attend to that end, Annie." 
 
 The girl laid a quick, caressing hand on his sleeve.
 
 BUTTERFLY AND GINGER 283 
 
 " Trooper Jim shan't be far away from One Tree Hill 
 to-morrow, Snowey." 
 
 " Have you told him ?" 
 
 "No, but " 
 
 " If you do tell him, Annie, you an' me say th' long 
 good-bye to-night." 
 
 " Why, Snowey ?" 
 
 " Why I shore wouldn't sleep in th' same cemetery 
 with a woman who made me look cheap ter such a man 
 as Rooney." 
 
 " Won't you give up that meeting for for my sake, 
 Snowey ? " 
 
 "No, dearie." 
 
 " Will you for Maida Lamarde's sake ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 He swung round and followed the crowd that was 
 trooping after the horses to the gate. 
 
 Annie Laurie, with agony in her woman's eyes, 
 turned and confronted Ginger. 
 
 " Och, an' what's hurtin' ye, Annie ? If th' mare 
 loses Oi'll take over y'r bets, me an' th' Yank have 
 arranged that." 
 
 " My bets ? " Her lips curled ; then she told him. 
 
 "You an' y'r fears," scoffed Ginger. "Do yez think 
 a divil like Rooney cud put th' comether over the Tiger 
 crowd ?" 
 
 "Rooney won't play straight." 
 
 "Well," jeered Ginger, "do yez think it's meself 
 that'll stand too much on what Butterfly Brown calls 
 th' niceties av punctilio* wid a blayguard like Rooney, 
 an' me mate's life in danger ? Go away an' get y'r 
 hair dyed blue."
 
 284 McGLUSKY THE GOLD SEEKER 
 
 " I I could hug you, Ginger." 
 
 " Be Mary, an' Oi won't call th' p'leece if ye do, 
 Annie, but moonlight suits me complexion best f r thim 
 gymnastics." 
 
 " Have you a plan, dear ? " 
 
 " Me ? No, th' Auld Timer does th' planniu 1 when 
 th' Tiger crowd's in trouble, he's th' divil an' all on 
 plans." 
 
 " Has McGlusky prepared for treachery ? " 
 
 "He didn't call ut that; he said Rooney meant 
 murder an' not fightin', an' he took th' three av us out 
 ter One Tree Hill unbeknown ter Snowey, a' he selected 
 places f r us wid our rifles : me on wan side, th' 
 Sergeant on th' other, an' Butterfly adjacent. We'll 
 slip out before daybreak an' lay low, an' wait, an' 
 watch." 
 
 Won't McGlusky be there too ? " 
 
 Ginger gurgled his amusement. " Him ? He's too 
 timid ; he'll be fillin* in th' scenery somewhere on 
 Mister Rooney 's line av march. There's some on- 
 dacent eccentricities av nature upheavin' themselves 
 f r th' benefit av Mr. Rooney an' his gang." 
 
 " Won't Snowey object to your plan ?" 
 
 "He wud, if he knew but he won't. Th' Old 
 Timer knew ut would be no good tryin' ter stop 
 Snowey from goin' out ter-morrow, so he planned to 
 stop Rooney." 
 
 "Snowey will miss you and grow suspicious." 
 
 " He won't. Oi'm goin' ter elope on a wild orgy av 
 love wid th' little girl from Th' Kangaroo an' Emu, an' 
 th' rest are goin' ter start in pursuit ter bring me back 
 ter th' ways av av misguided virtue."
 
 BUTTERFLY AND GINGER 285 
 
 " Ginger, you're a little beast." 
 
 "Och, ut's all play actin' worse luck," sighed the 
 imp. 
 
 They had strolled to the front of the grand stand as 
 they talked, and the horses had walked to the post. 
 Snowey and the rest of the Tiger crowd came and 
 joined them. 
 
 When the horses got into the hands of the starter, 
 there was a lot of jostling and pulling and hauling of 
 certain animals. Snowey, with his glasses to his eyes, 
 drawled 
 
 " Jim Sullivan an' Th' Swallow are in for a rough 
 house, Old Sportsman." 
 
 " Aye, tha's plain. Why does th' starter no' send 
 those blighters back ta th' paddock ? They've shown 
 their hand." * 
 
 " Search me," was the Sharpshooter's laconic answer. 
 
 "That accumulation o' sin an' slipperiness in th' 
 crimson jacket near had our jock out o' th' saddle 
 then." 
 
 This came from the American. 
 
 " Watch the boy on Troubadour, he's trying to 
 swing his horse right on to The Swallow." 
 
 " Sure thing, Sergeant, an' Troubadour is a divil, he 
 near always goes to th' post in a muzzle ; his boy is 
 trying to make him ' savage ' th' mare." 
 
 " Well, one thing's sure now," cried the Sergeant, 
 " our boy is not one of the gang ; they wouldn't set 
 about him like this if he was." 
 
 "I'll shore take some unparliamentary proceedin's 
 with that same gang if they hurt our jock," snarled 
 Butterfly, but Ginger growled
 
 286 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 " Thim an' their dirty tactics ; you can lave our jock 
 alone, he's got more nerve than that bunch, he's " 
 
 " They're off." 
 
 The roar that all racegoers know heralded the start 
 for the Cup, and before the horses had settled into 
 their stride all the spectators realised that three out of 
 the fifteen riders were out to bring The Swallow to 
 grief. A big iron-grey horse bumped her so hard that 
 she " changed her leg." Troubador cannoned into her, 
 and a horse galloping just behind her, rushed forward 
 and struck her on the quarter with his shoulder, and 
 The Swallow's muzzle nearly touched the ground. 
 
 " They've got the gloves off all right." 
 
 This came from Snowey. 
 
 The Swallow dropped back, her rider nursed her and 
 brought her along nicely, but came on the outside ; 
 when drawing for places at the start The Swallow's 
 number had placed her right in the thick of the field, 
 now the jock picked a spot where he could hope for a 
 clear run. 
 
 " That kid's all right." 
 
 This dictum came from O'Reilly, as good a general 
 as ever steered a racehorse to victory. 
 
 " He'll get na spank in' frae me, win or lose." 
 
 Annie Laurie laughed out clear as a bell-bird's 
 melody at this saying of McGlusky. 
 
 " Did you promise your jockey a a spanking, sir ? " 
 
 " A did." 
 
 Again the girl's sweet mirth pealed forth. The 
 veteran spoke to her gruffly 
 
 k ' Air ye lauchin' ta ease y'r feelin's, or ta gie y'r top 
 note an airin', or ta gie yon newspaper buckie wi' th' 
 camera a pictur' o* a daft wumman f r his fule paper ? "
 
 BUTTERFLY AND GINGER 287 
 
 The crowd became very still. The horses were 
 turning into the straight, The Swallow a little in the 
 rear, well on the outside. 
 
 " Hoo dae ye tak' it th' noo, Phil ? " 
 
 " It's all over, bar shoutin', if they haven't bumped 
 all the running out of our mare, sir; she's of the 
 Malua strain : she'll come like a flash past her horses 
 if Sullivan does as I told him, an' nurses her to the 
 half-distance. By thunder, what's that ? " 
 
 A chestnut racing on the outside of the ruck had shot 
 across the course towards The Swallow. 
 
 " Goin' to carry our mure clean off th' track, damn 
 him." 
 
 " That chap on the chestnut knows all about The 
 Swallow's finishing run, Snowey." 
 
 This came from the trainer. The Swallow's rider 
 did not move on the mare until the chestnut was almost 
 alongside, then crouching far over the mare's neck, he 
 made a call, and The Swallow, true to her name, shot 
 forward with a tremendous burst of speed, hurtling 
 past the baffled scoundrel on the chestnut, on past the 
 field, and on without faltering past the post, as her 
 great-great-grandsire Malua had done on many a hard- 
 fought field. 
 
 The crowd went mad. Men who had lost their 
 money joined with those who had won ; hats went into 
 the air ; the diggers' yell, the stockmen's coo-ee, long- 
 drawn and piercing, joined with shouts of those 
 who had learned the battle-cry of Anzac on sterner 
 fields. 
 
 They cheered the mare, they cheered her rider, and 
 they cheered McGlusky ; and Trooper Jim and his 
 uniformed mates had to make a cordon round the
 
 288 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 three knaves who had ridden so foully, and even at that 
 they did not escape scatheless. 
 
 When Jim Sullivan had passed the test of the scales, 
 and the mare's number went up as a signal of victory, 
 McGlusky caught Jim Sullivan up in his arms, and 
 holding him like a babe said 
 
 " Ye wee mite o' a man, ye've th' heart o' a leeon. 
 A threatened ye wi' a span kin* ; noo eef it were no' a 
 shame to dae it, A'd A'd kiss ye." 
 
 Then the veteran digger got the surprise of his life, 
 for the nearly black face came close to his own, and a 
 voice he knew whispered in his ear 
 
 " I'll I'll sue you for breach of promise if you do, 
 Mr. McGlusky, and call this crowd as my witnesses." 
 
 " Och, y're stung, sorr, an' Snowey an' th' Sergeant's 
 stung too, sorr. Ut's me an' th' Butterfly that's got 
 th' jaynius but don't give th 1 show away, let Maida 
 get into girls' dress an' wash th' black dye from her 
 face an' hands first." 
 
 Maida was smiling into Annie Laurie's eyes, as 
 McGlusky turned to them. 
 
 " Ye ken her, Annie ? " 
 
 " I knew all along ; I dyed her face, and cut her 
 pretty golden hair off', and made it black." 
 
 " Wha' for, lassie, for why should ye dae it ?" 
 
 Annie Laurie's voice grew very wistful all of a 
 sudden. 
 
 " Why, Mr. McGlusky, for the reason women have 
 been doing things through all the ages to help a 
 man."
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 RODNEY'S GRIM HAZARD 
 
 KiD " 
 
 " Well, Snowey ? " 
 
 " You shore dazzled us all to-day ; what beats me is 
 how you had the face to ask Maida ter ride f r th' 
 Tiger crowd." 
 
 " Oi didn't ; Oi caught th' idea browsin' round in th' 
 salt-bush, an' Oi put ut up ter Butterfly, an' he inter- 
 jooced th' subject mixed up wid scientific reflections 
 on th' name an 1 fame of McGlusky, ter Maida Lamarde, 
 an 1 she bit on ut like like Binkie bit McGlusky when 
 he went prowlin' round Th' Swallow's stable. She jest 
 rose to ut, matey. She an 1 Annie Laurie did the 
 rest, an', Snowey " 
 
 " Drop y'r pearls o 1 wisdom round, son." 
 
 "Oi'm beginnin 1 ter think Oi was wrong about 
 Maida." 
 
 " Why ? " 
 
 " Well, a girl who'd cut off that bunch av gold hair 
 she had, just to help a man out wouldn't fill her father 
 full of lead, wud she now ? " 
 
 The Sharpshooter was saved the necessity of answer- 
 ing by the arrival of Maida herself, garbed once more 
 in feminine apparel. 
 
 u 289
 
 290 McGLUSKY THE GOLD SEEKER 
 
 As Snowey shook hands with her, he said 
 
 " I'm glad we won th* Cup, but we paid too tall a 
 price f r doin' it." 
 
 " What price ? " 
 
 " Your lovely hair, and th' ruin of your complexion." 
 
 " Oh, my hair will grow again, and the dye will soon 
 work off my face." 
 
 " I guess you fooled us all when you turned yourself 
 into a mulatto ; your skin was so fair." 
 
 " Well, I didn't know myself when I looked in the 
 glass and saw my short hair as black as coal, and my 
 face not much lighter, but when I got into jockey 
 clothes, I had no fear at all that any one would 
 recognise me ; I looked all boy." 
 * You shore can ride." 
 
 " Yes, my father taught me ; he owned a couple of 
 up-country racers once, and I rode them in their work. 
 What my Dad didn't know about horses wasn't worth 
 going to law about. If I'd been a boy I should have 
 been a jockey." 
 
 " Why did you take the name of Sullivan ? " 
 
 "That was my mother's maiden name." 
 
 Annie Laurie entered the Crab-apple, and at once 
 joined Maida. 
 
 " Did Phil O'Reilly know you were a girl ? " 
 questioned Annie. 
 
 " I don't know ; it's hard to tell what Phil knows or 
 doesn't know ; if he had any suspicions, he never gave 
 me a hint by word or look ; his business was with the 
 horses and he attended to that end." 
 
 " He shore is a whale f r absorbin' information, an' 
 a miser f r partin* with it, nothin' leaks from Phil."
 
 ROONEY'S GRIM HAZARD 291 
 
 " Here he comes, an' the rest of the Tiger outfit 
 too." 
 
 As soon as the happy party had assembled in the 
 private room which Snowey had engaged, McGlusky 
 approached Maida with his eyes twinkling. 
 
 " Are ye a wumman o' y'r word, Maida ? " 
 
 "A good deal depends on the * word,' " she laughed. 
 
 " Weel, on th' course ye half promised A micht kiss 
 ye gin A caught ye in private." 
 
 "Well, I'll half keep it." The girl put her fingers 
 to her lips, and threw him a kiss. 
 
 "A never cud abide a half-way hoose," chortled the 
 veteran digger, and stooping his head swiftly, he kissed 
 her. " A've won ma Cup, an' 1100 it's fu' ta th' brim," 
 he cried gleefully, and thrusting his hand into his 
 pocket, he drew forth a jewel-case and displayed a 
 bracelet of exquisite workmanship and great value. 
 "Th' jeweller buckie opposite is a Scot, an* a keen 
 man o' business, so he opened his shop this evenin' 
 after th' races, knowin' those who had won ter-day 
 wad maist likely be free wi* their winnin's, sae A 
 bought this f r ye, lassie, ta remin' you o' The Swallow 
 an' Th' Tiger crowd." 
 
 Maida's face was a study as she held out her hand, 
 for she knew by this token she stood cleared from 
 suspicion in the eyes of the group of strong men who 
 had come into her life. 
 
 Whilst this joyous little scene was in progress, a 
 band of half a dozen horsemen rode quietly down 
 Republican Highway, wonderfully well-mounted men 
 they were, too, and all of them riders. The Highway
 
 292 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 was almost deserted, for all Canvas Town was either at 
 dinner, or partaking liquid refreshment in the bars and 
 saloons. A Chinaman with a long pole with a basket 
 crammed full of fruit and vegetables balanced on his 
 shoulder, trotted across the road just in front of the 
 group of horsemen, and the leader swung himself half 
 round in the saddle and said, with a laugh 
 
 "That's a good omen, boys, a Chinaman brings 
 luck." 
 
 " Hope you're right, Rooney ; we're goin' ter need 
 all th' luck that's comin* our way," came from a man 
 riding close behind. 
 
 "Don't get cold feet, Wasmore, the stake we're 
 playing for is worth the gamble." 
 
 "When my feet get cold there won't be much 
 warmth in the rest o' my carcase," retorted the rider 
 called Wasmore. 
 
 No one watching them would have suspected they 
 had any desperate enterprise afoot ; they neither sought 
 to attract attention nor to avoid it. Scores of similar 
 groups had passed earlier in the evening after the races. 
 They looked like a bunch of well-to-do diggers making 
 an early departure for their claims. 
 
 " There's the bank, right opposite the Crab-apple, 
 and the gold is all made up in leather bags, ready for 
 the escort to-morrow morning ; there's only three 
 clerks left inside the bank, they'll be armed, and 
 they'll fight." 
 
 " You can bet your sweet life they will." 
 
 " All right, Ventry so will we. Now, you all know 
 your parts ; Mickling will walk quietly to the door, no 
 hurry, no fuss, as soon as we dismount ; the rest will
 
 ROONEY'S GRIM HAZARD 293 
 
 group round him, so that no one in the street can see 
 what he's doing ; he'll slip his steel lever behind the 
 bar padlocked across the door from the outside, and 
 wrench it away ; the bank people were cute enough to 
 padlock the door from the outside as well as lock it 
 from the inside, locked their own men in, so that if 
 they were tempted, they couldn't loot without outside 
 help." 
 
 " What about the inside lock ? " 
 
 " Gallant will slip a tube of Giant Berlinese into the 
 keyhole, and a couple more under the door, and set 
 them going ; that will bring down any door in 
 Australia; it's the essence of the stuff the Germans 
 used for their highest explosives I imported it, and 
 I have tested it." 
 
 " Make a blinkin' row, won't it ? " 
 
 " Not much, that's one of its great qualities, but it 
 will make some. 1 ' 
 
 " Guess it will bring Trooper Jim." 
 
 " If it does, that's his funeral ; we've got to shoot to 
 kill, don't forget that. Now, if any one's got cold feet, 
 let him drop out." 
 
 No one dropped out. 
 
 " Here we are ; now easy, no rush and no flurry." 
 
 Rooney swung lazily from the saddle, slid his reins 
 over the horse's head, and let them drop, a signal to 
 the animal to stand. The others did the same. Rooney, 
 standing in the middle of the footpath, very deliberately 
 lit his pipe, whilst Mickling strolled to the door of the 
 bank and inserted a steel spring lever of great power 
 behind the bar that crossed the door. Each man, as 
 he had dropped his reins on the ground, had slipped a
 
 294 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 mask over his face. Grouped around Mickling, the 
 gang might easily have been mistaken for a body of 
 sportsmen chatting in the street over the day's racing. 
 Mickling put his weight on the scientific instrument he 
 was using, and the bar and padlock came away with a 
 tearing sort of noise. 
 
 " Now Gallant, in with the Berliner essence ; that 
 row will alarm the clerks." 
 
 Rooney gave his orders calmly but crisply. Gallant 
 seemed to know his job. He placed the explosives 
 with steady fingers. 
 
 " Get back." 
 
 He stepped to one side of the doorway as he gave his 
 warning, and the rest fell away. Three reports fol- 
 lowed in rapid succession, not very terrifying sounds, 
 and few of the men drinking in the bars not so very far 
 away heard the noise above the revelry, and if any did 
 hear they took no notice. Rooney had planned for 
 this, a quiet, ordinary night would not have suited 
 him. 
 
 McGlusky was just clasping the bracelet on Maida 
 Lamarde's wrist, when the highwaymen's explosions 
 broke the sounds of revelry. It was very quiet in the 
 secluded private dining-room at the moment, and all 
 present heard the three detonations distinctly. 
 
 "Wha'syon?" 
 
 The old digger stood with the girl's hand in his, and 
 his head screwed round in the direction the noise had 
 come from. 
 
 " Ut sounded a bit like bombs ter meself, sorr." 
 
 "Shake a leg ta yon outside door, and see, wee 
 mannie."
 
 RODNEY'S GRIM HAZARD 295 
 
 Ginger went quickly ; the others looked one at the 
 other, as if scenting something not quite right. 
 " Too muffled like f r gun play, Old Sport." 
 "Tha'snot." 
 
 The sharp report of a revolver had cut in on the 
 conversation. 
 
 "Somethin' doinV 
 
 No one answered this remark of Snowey's ; all the 
 Tiger party were pushing out quickly, but with a 
 certain method born of military training. Men and 
 women had sprung from their seats in the big dining- 
 room of the Crab-apple. The Tiger bunch, with Annie 
 Laurie and Maida Lamarde at their heels, met Ginger 
 hustling his way back to them. 
 
 "Hell an' all ter pay at th* bank opposite, sorr," 
 was his greeting. 
 
 " Stickin 1 up th 1 bank," cried Snowey. 
 "Ma goold's in there, ma brain sweat an' heart 
 sweat." 
 
 Like a bull going through a plantation of saplings, 
 the old digger went through the crowd, and his bunch 
 went with him. The only connected sentence Snowey 
 heard as he forced his passage came from the Yank, 
 whose temper nothing seemed to influence. 
 
 " This'll make a nice epitaph fr somebody's tomb- 
 stone." 
 
 At the door of the Crab-apple, McGlusky came to 
 grief. A man who bore a striking resemblance to Ikey 
 Moss the bookmaker, had been lurking just by the 
 entrance, and as the old digger charged forth, the 
 loiterer thrust out a leg and McGlusky pitched forward 
 on to his head.
 
 296 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 Butterfly, who saw the episode, promptly drove his 
 fist into the obstructor's face, remarking afterwards that 
 " the guy who threw his laig around in that manner 
 didn't oughter have laigs at all, but should perambulate 
 on crutches.' 1 
 
 The highwaymen had not wasted a moment after 
 they had blown the bank-door in ; they knew that they 
 had no time to squander. Springing inside, Rooney 
 found himself face to face with a youthful clerk. 
 
 " Hands up." 
 
 The clerk fired in reply to the order, and his bullet 
 grazed Rooney 's cheek. 
 
 Bang bang went the robber leader's heavy guns, and 
 the youth fell forward on his face. 
 
 Wasmore, Rooney's lieutenant, shot another clerk 
 who had run in from an adjoining room. The third 
 clerk, covered by half a dozen guns, threw his hands up. 
 
 " Now, out with the gold-sacks, quick ; 111 go and 
 stand by the horses and hold off any meddlers." 
 
 As Rooney spoke, he strode into the street, a big 
 heavy gun in each hand, and two more swinging at his 
 hips ; he had come prepared for a fight, and the blood- 
 lust was on him. A few seconds later two of the 
 robbers came out of the bank with gold-sacks, and 
 began to fasten them to their saddles. A fragment of 
 something blown away by the explosions set fire to a 
 big tent next door, and the rush of flame lit up the 
 scene with magical speed, for in that fiercely hot climate 
 all things were as dry as tinder and as inflammable. 
 
 Snowey was the first man within the circle of light. 
 Rooney jerked his left arm forward from the hip, and 
 fired. The bullet smashed into the Anzac Sharpshooter's
 
 RODNEY'S GRIM HAZARD 297 
 
 right shoulder, and spun him half round, and in that 
 moment, so critical for Snowey, the Sergeant came into 
 action. His first bullet brought Rooney to his knees, 
 but he was up again in a second, but that second saved 
 the life of Anzac Snowey. 
 
 The robbers were all near their horses now, none 
 remained in the bank, and they were fighting with 
 a hangman's noose round their necks, and knew it. 
 The big crowd that had poured into the street at the 
 sound of the firing, drew off, for nearly seventy per 
 cent, of them were unarmed. All the robber guns 
 were going at once. Ginger dropped, rose to his knees, 
 and fired with savage determination to get his own 
 back. 
 
 " Aim low, kid. 11 
 
 It was Snowey's voice above the din that reached the 
 Irish lad's ears, and Ginger aimed low, and the robber 
 named Gallant dropped on his back. 
 
 Butterfly Brown seemed to be juggling with his 
 weapon, so swiftly did he fire. 
 
 On to the scene rushed Trooper Jim and two of his 
 men, their dark blue uniforms making them conspicuous 
 in the glare of the firelight. All the robbers with one 
 accord opening on them. Brave old Trooper Jim, who 
 had ridden the back country for so long and had kept 
 order so fearlessly and well, staggered a little, halted, 
 tried to lift his arm to fire, and toppled over. Another 
 trooper stood swaying from side to side in a vain effort 
 to keep his feet, and then sank all in a heap. The 
 robbers, at Rooney's orders, had got behind their 
 horses, and were firing across them. Suddenly a voice 
 that had a thunderous roll in it, bellowed an order
 
 298 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 "Shoot th" 1 horses through th' heads, buckles 
 shoot." 
 
 McGlusky had recovered from his stunning fall, and 
 now his old gaunt figure flashed into view. 
 
 Ginger, who had been fighting on his knees, had 
 sunk on to one hand, his sight growing dim as the 
 blood dripped from his wounds, but that grim old 
 warlock's voice brought the Irish spirit back ; the lad 
 lifted himself and fired, and an outlaw's horse plunged 
 forward to its knees, and then stretched out on the 
 roadway. Ginger emptied his gun into the body of 
 another horse, and then, with a tired sigh, dropped the 
 weapon, and lay with his red head pillowed on his 
 arm. Annie Laurie saw him fall ; she sprang to him 
 and ripping a strip from a garment, was staunching the 
 flow of blood, when a bullet hit her. The Sergeant, 
 badly hit in more than one place himself, strode to the 
 girl and tried to lift her, but his strength was too far 
 spent ; he let her down on the roadway, and stood in 
 front of her firing at the gang who were now partly 
 screened by the smoke and by the shadows from the 
 bank building, as the fire died down it had been too 
 fierce to last long. 
 
 " Empty your guns into the old devil." 
 
 It was Rooney's voice, venting his hate of McGlusky. 
 
 " Coom oot an" 1 fecht ma, ye murderin 1 dog." 
 
 A great cry boomed out from the crowd. Maida 
 Lamarde, with a gun in each hand, had run forward ; 
 she fired at Rooney's horse behind which three men 
 were standing, hoping to sell their worthless lives at 
 a high price. Her aim was true, and the remnant of 
 the robber gang stood revealed. The third trooper
 
 RODNEY'S GRIM HAZARD 299 
 
 dropped. Then McGlusky and Snowey tried to shield 
 Maida Lamarde with their bodies, even as they fought. 
 
 " Leave Rooney to me, Old Sport." 
 
 " All tak' th 1 ither yins." 
 
 Rooney, as if accepting the duel, singled himself out. 
 Snowey's pistol arm hung useless by his side, but he 
 used the other hand, though he had to brace his legs 
 wide apart to keep from falling, for as Butterfly after- 
 wards explained : " Shore Snowey had enough lead in 
 him ter start a plumber in business in a wet country. 11 
 For the twinkling of an eye neither men fired ; then 
 the big Colts boomed, and spat their heavy slugs of 
 lead. Rooney was as hard to kill as Snowey ; he 
 carried his lead with the vitality of a wild cat, but he 
 dropped at last, snarling like a mad beast to the 
 finish. 
 
 Only two men were left upon their legs Snowey and 
 McGlusky, and they were kept upright only by the 
 indomitable spirits that were in them, by all the laws 
 of nature both ought to have been down. 
 
 "Hurt bad, Snowey?" 
 
 Maida Lamarde's arms were round the pride of the 
 old Anzac division, her voice in his ears. 
 
 " Most got my ticket little girl." 
 
 " You shan't go I won't let you go." 
 
 His head that had grown as heavy as lead fell on her 
 shoulder. 
 
 " Guess I've had a full hand an 1 played it, 
 dear." 
 
 McGlusky was kneeling in the dust, with Ginger's 
 head against his breast, and men pressing round who 
 heard him sob, swore they would never forget it till
 
 300 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 their dying day, and the scallywag prospector known as 
 "The Possum," who had some good points in him, 
 voiced the general sentiment when he said 
 
 " Mates, it's blinkin" 1 orful to be loved by a man as 
 much as that." 
 
 In a tent not far from the scene of the tragedy, 
 Rooney lay gasping his life out, and he went on the 
 outward bound journey before dawn, to the regret of 
 those who hoped to save him for the rope. He only 
 spoke once, just as life was going, and his malice was as 
 deep in death as in life. 
 
 " Tell Maida Lamarde I did her father in, and her 
 lover the Anzac, too." 
 
 " Why ? " asked the doctor. 
 
 " Old Joe Lamarde knew where oil was in the Barren 
 Ranges, and he wouldn't tell me." 
 
 " How did you know Joe Lamarde struck oil ? " 
 
 An all -evil smile lit the devilish handsome face of 
 the dying sinner. 
 
 " His daughter told her half-sister an' she told me, 
 so in a way she murdered her father." 
 
 " Och, is ut winter or summer, or or somethin' in 
 between, son* ? " 
 
 " Hold y'r whisht, it's winter, wee mannie." 
 
 A long pause, and then 
 
 " How long have Oi been lyin' here, sorr ? " 
 
 "Four months." 
 
 " Where's Snowey ? " 
 
 There was dread in the young voice, fear in the 
 beautiful eyes fear for what the answer might be. 
 
 " He's daein' fine ; we got a gran' man oop frae th" 1 
 ceety, a specialist, an" he dug a lead mine oot o' oor
 
 RODNEY'S GRIM HAZARD 301 
 
 laddie ; he's no 1 greatly hurtit ; 'm hopin' he'll be able 
 ta walk wi'in a year. Noo sew y'r mouth oop." 
 
 " Oi will, if yez tell me about th 1 Sergeant an' 
 Butterfly." 
 
 " They're no' playin' footba', but they're nearer ta it 
 than yersel'." Then suddenly the old digger bent and 
 kissed the ghastly white face on the pillow. " Mannie, 
 All no' keep things fra ye yell never sing again. 1 ' 
 
 A look of bitter disappointment came into the boyish 
 eyes, for his voice had been his one secret ambition, and 
 McGlusky knew it, knew how he had hoped to win fame 
 with it. 
 
 "Tell me, sorr." 
 
 "A bullet tuk ye in th' throat, laddie." 
 
 They sat in silence listening to the rain, then all that 
 was Irish in the imp came to his aid. 
 
 Sorr " 
 
 " A'm hearkenm 1 ta ye, wee buckle." 
 
 " Be Mary, if Oi can't sing, Oi can whistle, sorr, an' 
 Oill sit on Rooney's grave an 1 whistle th ? Rogue's March 
 ter cheer him, an 1 Oi hope he'll like ut." 
 
 In another private ward of the same hospital Snowey 
 was sitting propped up in bed, a very worn and wan 
 Snowey. Maida Lamarde was sitting by his bedside, 
 for she had constituted herself his nurse from the 
 first. 
 
 " Feeling stronger to-day, boy ? " 
 
 "Feelin' fine, Maidee, it shore put new life into 
 me when I heard Ginger had taken a twist fr th' 
 better." 
 
 The girl laughed, and there was a merry lilt in her 
 mirth.
 
 802 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 " What a funny crowd the Tiger bunch are, you are 
 just a lot of echoes." 
 
 " Didn't know it before, lass." 
 
 " Well, you are. One day I asked Butterfly how he 
 felt ; it was just after you were pulling round after the 
 last operation, and we all knew you were out of danger, 
 and he said : ' Me ? Nothin' to write home ter mother 
 about me, now I know old Snowey's on the mend,' 
 and it was very nearly the same with the Sergeant ; 
 the young doctor greeted him one morning with : ' How 
 are you feeling ? ' and the Englishman looked up from 
 his pillow and said : l Never mind me ; how are my 
 mates ? ' " 
 
 Snowey produced the old twisted smile the girl 
 loved to see, and his voice had its old-time 
 drollery. 
 
 " Well, girlie, I shore think we w*~> all licked into 
 one shape by th' Old Tiger ; men couldn't campaign an' 
 work an 1 travel with him f r years, an' not grow human, 
 he's just th' best ever." 
 
 " He's a man, all man, Snowey ; I nearly fell in love 
 with him when I first met him." 
 
 "Must ha' had dust in y'r eyes, Maidee, not ter 
 make it quite instead of nearly." 
 
 " I think I should have done so if it hadn't been for 
 Ginger." 
 
 " What had th' kid to do with that ? " 
 
 " Everything to do with it. I'd feel sorry for any 
 woman who became Mrs. McGlusky whilst Ginger 
 was round. Why, boy, Ginger is the old digger's 
 world." 
 
 " That made me feel sore many a time, girlie ; the
 
 RODNEY'S GRIM HAZARD 303 
 
 rest of us had th' edges of th' Old Tiger's heart, but 
 Ginger had th' middle." 
 
 "I know, Snowey, and the night of the fight with 
 Rooney's gang, when they brought you all here, the 
 doctor said after a glance at Ginger : ' Call for a 
 volunteer to give blood to this boy, he's nearly all in, 
 transfusion of blood and a lot of it quick is his only 
 chance.' ' 
 
 "The kid was near heaven that time, lass." 
 
 "I don't know about heaven" smiled Maida, " but 
 he was just on the edge of things, and McGlusky lying 
 on a bed near by, thrust out one of his arms and cried 
 to the doctor : ' Blood f'r ma wee mannie ? Haud y'r 
 blether, an' tak' mine, ye half-witted gommeril, A'm 
 stronger than a steer,' and, Snowey, the old warrior 
 was drained nearly dry of blood himself from his 
 wounds, and so weak he could not stand. The doctor 
 told him so, and he cursed fierce and low, and cried : 
 * Tak' ma heart's blood Fr ma wee buckie.' ' 
 
 " They didn't take it, Maidee ? " 
 
 " No ; he had none to spare." 
 
 " Some one must ha' volunteered." 
 
 "Yes," said the girl, "there was a volunteer, and 
 Ginger got blood for his veins just in time only just, 
 boy." 
 
 " I'll find that chap soon as I get well, an' say thank 
 you f r that, an' an' find out if he wants any dough ; 
 lots of good fellows are broke, you know what was 
 his name, Maidee?" 
 
 "He didn't give his name, boy." 
 
 " Do you know his name ? " Snowey's eyes caught 
 and held the girl's until with a blush she turned her
 
 804 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 head away. " Needn't bother to tell me, girlie, I know 
 the name." 
 
 He caressed her with his eyes. After a time the 
 chuckle that used to run about in his throat, as 
 Butterfly described it, caught her ear. 
 
 "That does me good, boy." 
 
 "It shore does make me feel gleeful, Maidee, to 
 know you gave your blood to save Ginger ; you're one 
 of the Tiger crowd now." 
 
 " Well, there will soon be another." 
 
 " You've got me guessin', little maid." 
 
 "I mean Annie Laurie." 
 
 "Say, I'll never forget th' way that girl ran an' 
 tried to tie up Ginger's wounds an' him down in th' 
 roadway ; they were skunks at heart, pumpin' lead at 
 a wounded man an 1 a woman." 
 
 " Annie's as proud of the wound she got that night 
 as if she had got the V.C., Snowey." 
 
 " Known many a chap get it f'r less ; why, she walked 
 into almost certain death. Must ha' loved that freckle- 
 faced image of ours quite a lot, eh ? " 
 
 "Think so, boy, eh?" 
 
 "Don't you ?" 
 
 "Ginger was always a pet of Annie's, and always 
 will be, but I know a man she thought she was in love 
 with right up to that gun-fighting night." 
 
 "Ix)rd do you mean th' Old Timer? Men call 
 him ugly, but th' old divil draws women to him like 
 a water-melon draws a nigger." 
 
 The girl nestled her cheek against the Sharpshooter's 
 lantern jaw. 
 
 "For a man who can see to shoot as straight as
 
 RODNEY'S GRIM HAZARD 305 
 
 you do, boy, you're the blindest thing I know in some 
 ways." 
 
 " Make that speech a little clearer unless you want 
 to be kissed Jim Sullivan." 
 
 " Jim doesn't, 11 mocked the girl, " but Maida Lamarde 
 does," and, weak as he was, Snowey went through the 
 lovers' ritual, and took a long time over it. "You 
 didn't know Annie Laurie almost hated me once, for 
 your sake, boy ? " 
 
 " Shucks. Annie loved my dancin', not me ; lots of 
 girls get that kind o 1 fever for a bit when a man's step 
 suits theirs." 
 
 " That so, boy ? Then, when we are married, you 
 dance with no one but your wife." 
 
 "Reckon you'll about fill th' bill as far as I'm 
 concerned, honey." 
 
 "Yes; and the Sergeant will fill the bill as far as 
 Annie Laurie is concerned, laddie." 
 
 "Is that how th 1 horses are runnin', Maidee?" 
 
 " Yes ; when she saw the Englishman fighting, I 
 think she found out where her heart really was ; she's 
 English, you know, and I expect it was the call of the 
 blood after all can't blame them, can we ? " 
 
 " They're two of the best ; she worked like a brick 
 f r her livin 1 an 1 walked as straight as a die, an' as fr 
 him well, we know th 1 Sergeant. 11 
 
 " Snowey " 
 
 "Well, Maidee? 11 
 
 " Let us clean everything up now once and for all." 
 
 " Bring y'r broom." 
 
 " I I think the Sergeant had illusions up to that 
 night too. 1
 
 306 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 " Meanin' you ? " 
 
 44 He thought he wanted me." 
 
 " I thought so too." 
 
 44 She's a finer girl than I am, boy." 
 
 44 She is f r him." 
 
 44 They are going home to 4 Blighty/ as the Sergeant 
 calls it, as soon as they're married ; they talk all day 
 about the fields of Kent, the garden of England, that's 
 where Annie comes from." 
 
 44 Prettiest place I know,"" agreed Snowey. " I'll take 
 you there some day don't know a nicer place fr a 
 honeymoon trip, girlie. One thing, the Sergeant will 
 take back gold enough to buy up a good slice of it, 
 guess they'll want ter make him a General when they 
 see his bank-roll." 
 
 44 1 wish I could fix up a wedding for Butterfly, he's 
 a dear." 
 
 44 Have a shy at it while th' complaint's ragin', most 
 things are catchinV 
 
 4 * I did," grumbled Maida ; " I I introduced him to 
 an awful nice girl, a nurse, but " 
 
 " Didn't bite, eh ? " 
 
 44 Bite ? He didn't even kiss her, and I'm sure I left 
 them alone enough." 
 
 44 Butterfly is slow in some things." 
 
 44 Slow he's he's a hearse." 
 
 44 Perhaps he wanted enlightenin' on th' situa- 
 tion." 
 
 44 Well, I enlightened him." 
 
 "Did you, girlie? What line o* defence did he 
 take up?" 
 
 44 He looked at me as simple as a child, and he
 
 ROONEY'S GRIM HAZARD 307 
 
 said : ' Thanks, Miss Maida, I'll write home ter mother 
 about it.'" 
 
 Snowey chuckled gleefully. 
 
 " Old Butterfly ain't so slow after all, girlie." 
 
 The winter passed ; the summer came and had nearly 
 worn itself out, and Canvas Town was full of revelry 
 once more, for two of the far-famed Tiger crowd had 
 married that day, and McGlusky had taken the town 
 under his wing. He spent his money like a baron of 
 old. 
 
 Before the wedding ceremony he laid the foundation- 
 stone of a hospital for children, and handed the Warden 
 of the fields a cheque for the completion thereof, which 
 the Possum said was as big as a blanket. At noon he 
 and Ginger together did the same office jointly in 
 regard to a college for the training of Anzac singers, 
 in memory of the Irish lad's lost voice, Ginger 
 remarking 
 
 " Be me soul, sorr, perhaps th' singin' voice Oi mis- 
 laid just here wid th' help av Rooney's gun, may come 
 back ter some Anzac kiddie ; if ut does, sorr, Oi'll be 
 happy." 
 
 "Dinna mak* ma greet, wee mannie. A'm hopin* 
 ta meet th' voice ye lost oop yonner; A'm theenkin' 
 th' old grey gods air mindin' it dom Rooney an' dom 
 th' bones an' th' evil speerit o' him, he were just a 
 killer, th' blastie." 
 
 The Sergeant had purchased a tract of country which 
 he gave for a home for women, and Butterfly's cheque 
 made the building of a home there a certainty. Men 
 wondered that Snowey, who had done so well on the
 
 808 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 field, appeared in none of these gifts, but a week after 
 he and his bride had left, it transpired that he had left 
 the money for the erection of a wonderful amphitheatre, 
 such as he had seen at Verona when serving with Signer 
 McGlusky in Italy. 
 
 " Teach th' kiddies who come after us how to fight," 
 he had said to the Warden, " for some day the Anzac 
 lands will need *em." 
 
 So each had done after his kind for the place that 
 had made them "gold kings." 
 
 The farewell dinner to brides and grooms took place 
 in the big dining-room of the Crab-apple. Snowey sat 
 next to Mai da, who was Maida Lamarde no longer, and 
 Annie Laurie sat beside the Sergeant, her husband, 
 and the rest of the Tiger crowd were grouped near, 
 whilst the rest of the room was thronged. The dinner 
 came to an end, toasts were drunk, and songs were 
 sung, and then McGlusky rose from his place and 
 beckoned to some one at the door of the private dining- 
 room which all remembered so well. In response to 
 the veteran's signal, two stalwart African negroes 
 approached, each bearing an immense silver dish with 
 a silver cover on top ; they laid one in front of Maida 
 and Snowey, the other in front of the Sergeant and his 
 bonny English bride. All craned forward to see what 
 novelty the old digger had furnished to finish the feast. 
 McGlusky raised the immense covers, one in each hand, 
 and a roar went up as two beautiful cradles wrought 
 from pure silver stood revealed. Annie and Maida, 
 blushing and laughing, clung to their husbands' arms. 
 When the noise died down, McGlusky spoke 
 
 "Th* siller fr the cradles cam* frae th' Broken
 
 RODNEY'S GRIM HAZARD 309 
 
 Hill mines, where ye once wrought f r a daily wage, 
 Snowey." 
 
 " Hard work an' good wa ges I had there, Old 
 Sportsman." 
 
 The dainty bedding in the cradles began to move. 
 
 " He's given you a family to start with, boys," yelled 
 a digger far down the table. 
 
 " Aye, have A tiger's cubs f r twa Tigers," yelled 
 McGlusky, and tearing aside the dainty linen, the big 
 man seized and held at arm's length a pair of beautifully 
 striped tiger-cubs bought in the Zoo. The brides 
 shrank back from the spitting, snarling babes o' the 
 jungle, but Snowey and the Sergeant rose, and, reaching 
 out their hands, took the quaint gifts and held them 
 aloft, whilst the brides took the silver cradles. 
 
 A great laugh filled the room ; then Ginger, leaping 
 on a chair, placed one hand on the veteran's shoulder, 
 and in an ecstasy of delight, forgetful of Rooney's 
 bullet, opened his mouth to sing as of old, and to 
 the amazement of all who knew the great specialist's 
 verdict, the melody poured forth richer, purer, sweeter 
 than of old, and Ginger sang a song of his own 
 composing \ 
 
 "The Tiger Flag that yet shall be 
 The emblem of the Anzac breed, 
 To float o'er land and sea, 
 The Tiger Flag, the Tiger Flag, 
 The emblem of the brave and free." 
 
 As Ginger sang his chorus, the whole company joined 
 in, and every man and woman was wildly waving a 
 little black and gold striped banner, and as the song
 
 310 McGLUSKY THE GOLD-SEEKER 
 
 ceased Snowey, eyes blazing, hands outflung, leapt upon 
 the table, and his voice rang out vibrant as a clarion 
 call to battle 
 
 " Three cheers for our Tribune the Tribune yet to 
 be McGlusky!" 
 
 THE END
 
 PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN BY 
 
 RICHARD CLAY & SONS, LIMITED, 
 
 BRUNSWICK ST., STAMFORD ST., S.E. 1, 
 
 AND BCNGAY, SUFFOLK.
 
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