Part 2 (1/2)
”'E's forgot 'is 'ankey!”
”'Ere, boys, look slippy!--a 'ankey for ol' sausage!”
But the German was not sensitive to ridicule. He had something to say, and he was there to say it. Fixing his fish-like eyes on a spot high up the tent wall, he kept them pinned to it, while he mouthed out blood-and-thunder invectives. He was, it seemed, a red-hot revolutionist; a fierce denouncer of British rule. He declared the British monarchy to be an effete inst.i.tution; the fetish of British freedom to have been ”exbloded” long ago. What they needed, in this grand young country of theirs, was a ”republic”; they must rid themselves of those shackles that had been forged in the days when men were slaves. It was his sound conviction that before many weeks had pa.s.sed, the Union Jack would have been hauled down for ever, and the glorious Southern Cross would wave in its stead, over a free Australia.
The day on which this happened would be a never-to-be-forgotten date in the annals of the country. For what, he would like to know, had the British flag ever done for freedom, at any time in the world's history?
They should read in their school-books, and there they would learn that wherever a people had risen against their tyrants, the Union Jack had waved, not over them, but over the British troops sent to stamp the rising out.
This was more than Mahony could stomach. Flas.h.i.+ng up from his seat, he strove to a.s.sert himself above the hum of agreement that mounted from the foreign contingent, and the doubtful sort of grumble by which the Britisher signifies his disapproval.
”Mr. Chairman! Gentlemen!” he cried in a loud voice. ”I call upon those loyal subjects of her Majesty who are present here, to join with me in giving three cheers for the British flag. Hip, hip, hurrah! And, again, hip, hip, hurrah! And, once more, hip, hip, hurrah!”
His compatriots followed him, though flabbily; and he continued to make himself heard above the shouts of ”Order!” and the bimming of the chairman's bell.
”Mr. Chairman! I appeal to you. Are we Britons to sit still and hear our country's flag reviled?--that flag which has ensured us the very liberty we are enjoying this evening. The gentleman who has been pleased to slander it is not, I believe, a British citizen. Now, I put it to him: is there another country on the face of the earth, that would allow people of all nations to flock into a gold-bearing colony on terms of perfect equality with its own subjects?--to flock in, take all they can get, and then make off with it?” a point of view that elicited forcible grunts of a.s.sent, which held their own against hoots and hisses. Unfortunately the speaker did not stop here, but went on: ”Gentlemen! Do not, I implore you, allow yourselves to be led astray by a handful of ungrateful foreigners, who have received nothing but benefits from our Crown. What you need, gentlemen, is not revolution, but reform; not strife and bloodshed, but a liberty consistent with law and order. And this, gentlemen,----”
(”You'll never get 'em like that, d.i.c.k,” muttered Purdy.)
”Not so much gentlemening, if YOU please!” said a sinister-looking man, who might have been a Vandemonian in his day. ”MEN'S what we are--that's good enough for us.”
Mahony was nettled. The foreigners, too, were pressing him.
”Am I then to believe, sir, what I frequently hear a.s.serted, that there are no gentlemen left on the diggings?”
(”Oh lor, d.i.c.k!” said Purdy. He was sitting with his elbows on his knees, clutching his cheeks as though he had the toothache.)
”Oh, stow yer blatherskite!”
”Believe what yer b.l.o.o.d.y well like!” retorted the Vandemonian fiercely.
”But don't come 'ere and interrupt our pleasant and h'orderly meetings with YOUR blamed jaw.”
Mahony lost his temper. ”I not interrupt?--when I see you great hulks of men--”
(”Oh, lor!” groaned Purdy again.)
”--who call yourselves British subjects, letting yourselves be led by the nose, like the sheep you are, by a pack of foreigners who are basely accepting this country's hospital'ty?”
”Here, let me,” said Purdy. And pus.h.i.+ng his way along the bench he hobbled to the platform, where several arms hoisted him up.
There he stood, fronting the violent commotion that had ensued on his friend's last words; stood bedraggled, mud-stained, bandaged, his cabbage-tree hat in his hand. And Mahony, still on his feet, angrily erect, thought he understood why the boy had refused to wash himself clean, or to change his dress: he had no doubt foreseen the possibility of some such dramatic appearance.
Purdy waited for the hubbub to die down. As if by chance he had rested his hand on the bell; its provoking tinkle ceased. Now he broke into one of the frank and hearty smiles that never fail to conciliate.
”Brother diggers!”
The strongly spoken words induced an abrupt lull. The audience turned to him, still th.o.r.n.y and sulky it was true, but yet they turned; and one among them demanded a hearing for the youngster.
”Brother diggers! We are met here to-night with a single purpose in view. Brother diggers! We are not met here to throw mud at our dear old country's flag! Nor will we have a word said against her most gracious Majesty, the Queen. Not us! We're men first, whose business it is to stand up for a gallant little woman, and diggers with a grievance afterwards. Are you with me, boys?--Very well, then.-- Now we didn't come here to-night to confab about getting votes, or having a hand in public affairs--much as we want 'em both and mean to have 'em, when the time comes. No, to-night there's only one thing that matters to us, and that's the repeal of the accursed tax!” Here, such a tempest of applause broke out that he was unable to proceed. ”Yes, I say it again,” he went on, when they would let him speak; ”the instant repeal!
When that's been done, this curse taken off us, then it'll be time enough to parlez-vous about the colour of the flag we mean to have, and about going shares in the Government. But let me make one thing clear to you. We're neither traitors to the Crown, nor common rebels. We're true-blue Britons, who have been goaded to rebellion by one of the vilest pieces of tyranny that ever saw the light. Spies and informers are everywhere about us. Mr. Commissioner Sleuth and his hounds may cry tally-ho every day, if 'tis their pleasure to! To put it shortly, boys, we're living under semi-martial law. To such a state have we free-born men, men who came out but to see the elephant, been reduced, by the asinine stupidity of the Government, by the impudence and knavishness of its officials. Brother diggers! When you leave the hall this evening, look over at the hill on which the Camp stands! What will you see? You will see a blaze of light, and hear the sounds of revelry by night. There, boys, hidden from our mortal view, but visible to our mind's eye, sit Charley Joe's minions, carousing at our expense, was.h.i.+ng down each mouthful with good fizz bought with our hard-earned gold. Licence-pickings, boys, and tips from new grog-shops, and the blasted farce of the Commissariat! We're supposed--”
But here Mahony gave a loud click of the tongue--in the general howl of execration it pa.s.sed unheard--and, pus.h.i.+ng his way out of the tent, let the flap-door fall to behind him.