The Book Of The Bush by George Dunderdale (books to read to improve english .TXT) 📕

The Gully,  But I Never Heard That They Gave Him Any Of The Gold Which

They Found In It.  A Narrow Track From Foster Was Cut Between High

Walls Of Impenetrable Scrub,  And It Soon Became Like A Ditch Full Of

Mud,  Deep And Dangerous.  If The Diggers Had Been Assured That They

Would Find Heaven At The Other End Of It,  They Would Never Have Tried

To Go,  The Prospect Of Eternal Happiness Having A Much Less Attraction

For Them Than The Prospect Of Gold; But The Sacred Thirst Made Them

Tramp Bravely Through The Slough.  The Sun And Wind Never Dried The

Mud,  Because It Was Shut In And Overshadowed By The Dense Growth Of

The Bush.  All Tools And Provisions Were Carried Through It On The

Backs Of Horses,  Whose Legs Soon Became Caked With Mud,  And The Hair

Was Taken Off Them As Clean As If They Had Been Shaved With A Razor.

Most Of Them Had A Short Life And A Hard One.

The Digging Was Quite Shallow,  And The Gully Was Soon Rifled Of The

Gold.  At This Time There Was A Mining Registrar At Foster,  As The

New Diggings At Stockyard Creek Were Named,  And Some Men,  After

Pegging Out Their Claim At Turton's Creek,  Went Back Down The Ditch

To Register Them At Foster.  It Was A Great Mistake.  It Was Neither

The Time Nor The Place For Legal Forms Or Ceremony.  Time Was Of The

Essence Of The Contract,  And They Wasted The Essence.  Other And

Wiser Men Stepped On To Their Ground While They Were Absent,

Commenced At Once To Work Vigorously,  And The Original Peggers,  When

They Returned,  Were Unable To Dislodge Them.  Peter Wilson Pegged Out

A Claim,  And Then Rode Away To Register It.  He Returned Next Day And

Found Two Men On It Who Had Already Nearly Worked It Out.

"This Claim Is Mine,  Mates," Said Peter; "I Pegged It Out Yesterday,

And I Have Registered It.  You Will Have To Come Out."

One Of The Men Looked Up At Peter And Said,  "Oh! Your Name Is Peter,

Isn't It?  I Hear You Are A Fighting Man.  Well,  You Just Come Down

Off That Bare-Legged Horse,  And I'll Kill You In A Couple Of Minutes,

While I Take A Spell."

"It's No Use Your Talking That Way; You'll See I'll Have The Law On

You,  And You'll Have To Pay For It," Replied Peter.

"You Can Go,  Peter,  And Fetch The Law As Soon As You Like.  I Don't

Care A Tinker's Curse For You Or The Law; All I Want Is The Profits,

And I'm Going To Have Them."

This Profane Outlaw And His Mate Got The Profits,  Cleared All The

Gold Out Of Peter's Claim,  And Took It Away With Them.

It Was Reported In Melbourne That There Was No Law Or Order At

Turton's Creek; That The Diggers Were Treating The Mining Statutes

And Regulations With Contempt; That The Gold Went To The Strong,  And

The Weakest Went To The Wall.  Therefore,  Six Of The Biggest

Policemen In  Melbourne Were Selected,  Stretched Out,  And Measured In

Russell Street Barracks,  And Were Then Ordered To Proceed To Turton's

Creek And Vindicate The Majesty Of The Law.  They Landed From The

Steamer On The Wharf At Port Albert,  And,  Being Armed With Carbines

And Revolvers,  Looked Very Formidable.  They Proceeded On Their

Journey In The Direction Of Foster,  And It Was Afterwards Reported

That They Arrived At Turton's Creek,  And Finding Everybody Quiet And

Peaceable,  They Came Back Again,  Bringing With Them Neither Jumpers

Nor Criminals.  It Was Said,  However,  That They Never Went Any

Further Than The Commencement Of The Ditch.  They Would Naturally,  On

Viewing It,  Turn Aside And Camp,  To Recruit Their Energies And

Discuss The Situation.  Although They Were Big Constables,  It Did Not

Follow They Were Big Fools.  They Said The Government Ought To Have

Asphalted The Ditch For Them.  It Was Unreasonable To Expect Men,

Each Six Foot Four Inches In Height,  Carrying Arms And Accoutrements,

Which They Were Bound By The Regulations To Keep Clean And In Good

Order,  To Plunge Into That River Of Mud,  And To Spoil All Their

Clothes.

Turton's Creek Was Soon Worked Out,  And Before Any Professional

Jumpers Or Lawyers Could Put Their Fingers In The Pie,  The Plums Were

All Gone.  The Gully Was Prospected From Top To Bottom,  And The Hills

On Both Sides Were Tunnelled,  But No More Gold,  And No Reefs Were

Found.  There Was Much Speculation By Geologists,  Mining Experts,  And

Old Duffers As To The Manner In Which The Gold Had Contrived To Get

Into The Creek,  And Where It Came From; Where It Went To,  The Diggers

Who Carried It Away In Their Pockets Knew Well Enough.

The Diggers Dispersed; Some Went To Melbourne To Enjoy Their Wealth;

Some Stayed At Foster To Try To Get More; Some Died From The Extreme

Enjoyment Of Riches Suddenly Acquired,  And A Few Went Mad.  One Of

The Latter Was Brought To Palmerston,  And Remained There A Day Or Two

On His Way To The Yarra Bend Lunatic Asylum.  Having An Inborn Thirst

For Facts,  I Conversed With Him From The Wooden Platform Which

Overlooks The Gaol Yard.  He Was Walking To And Fro,  And Talking Very

Cheerfully To Himself,  And To The World In General.  He Spoke Well,

And Had Evidently Been Well Educated,  But His Ideas Were All In

Pieces As It Were,  And Lacked Connection.  He Spoke Very

Disrespectfully Of Men In High Places,  Both In England And The

Colonies; And Remarked That Members Of Parliament Were The Greatest

Rascals On The Face Of The Earth.  No Man Of Sound Mind Would Ever

Use Such Language As That.

Some Years Afterwards,  While I Was Collector Of Customs At Port

Albert,  I Received A Letter From Melbourne To The Following Purport:

"Yarra Bend Asylum,

----------188--

"Strictly Private And Confidential

"Sir,--You Are Hereby Ordered To Take Possession Of And Detain

Every Vessel Arriving At Port Albert.  You Will Immediately Proceed

On Board Each Of Them,  And Place The Broad Arrow Abaft The Foremast

Six Feet Above The Deck.  You Will Thus Cut Off All Communication

With The British Empire.  I May State That I Am The Lawful Heir To

The Title And Estates Of A Scottish Dukedom,  And Am Deprived Of The

Possession And Enjoyment Of My Rightful Station And Wealth By The

Machinations Of A Band Of Conspirators,  Who Have Found Means To

Detain Me In This Prison In Order To Enjoy My Patrimony.  You Will

Particularly Observe That You Are To Hold No Communication Whatever

With The Governor Of This Colony,  As He Is The Paid Agent Of The

Conspirators,  And Will Endeavour To Frustrate All Efforts To Obtain

My Rights.  You Will Also Be Most Careful To Withhold All Information

From The Duke Of Dunsinane,  Who Is A Member Of The Junior Branch Of

My Family,  And At The Head Of The Conspiracy.  You Will Proceed As

Soon As Possible To Enrol A Body Of Men For The Purpose Of Effecting

My Deliverance By Force Of Arms.  As These Men Will Require Payment

For Their Services,  You Will Enter The Bank Of Victoria At Port

Albert,  And Seize All The Money You Will Find There,  The Amount Of

Which I Estimate At Ten Thousand Pounds,  Which Will Be Sufficient For

Preliminary Expenses.  You Will Give,  In My Name,  To The Manager Of

The Bank,  A Guarantee In Writing For Repayment Of The Money,  With

Current Rate Of Interest Added,  When I Recover The Dukedom And

Estates.  Be Careful To Explain To Him That You Take The Money Only

As A Loan,  And That Will Prevent The Bank From Laying Any Criminal

Charge Against You.  Should Anything Of The Kind Be In Contemplation,

You Will Be Good Enough To Report Progress To Me As Soon As Possible,

And I Will Give You All Necessary Instructions As To Your Future

Proceedings.

"I May Mention That In Seeking To Obtain My Title And Estates,  I Am

Influenced By No Mean Or Mercenary Considerations; My Sole Desire Is

To Benefit The Human Race.  I Have Been Employing All My Leisure

Hours During The Last Nine Years In Perfecting A System Of Philosophy

Entirely New,  And Applicable To All Times,  To All Nations,  And To All

Individuals.  I Have Discovered The True Foundation For It,  Which,

Like All Great Inventions,  Is So Simple That It Will Surprise The

World It Was Never Thought Of Before.  It Is This:  "Posito

Impossibili Sequitur Quidlibet."  My Philosophy Is Founded On The

Firm Basis Of The Impossible; On That You Can Build Anything And

Everything.  My Great Work Is Methodical,  Divided Into Sections And

Chapters,  Perfect In Style,  And So Lucid In Argument That He Who Runs

May Read And Be Enlightened.  I Have Counted The Words,  And They

Number So Far Seven Hundred And Two Thousand Five Hundred And

Seventy-Eight (702,578).  Five Years More Will Be Required To

Complete The Work; I Shall Then Cause It To Be Translated Into Every

Language Of The World,  And Shipped At The Lowest Rate Of Tonnage For

Universal Distribution Gratis.  This Will Ensure Its Acceptance And

Its Own Beauty And Intrinsic Merits Will Secure Its Adoption By All

Nations,  And The Result Will Be Human Happiness.  It Will Supersede

All The Baseless Theories Of Science,  Religion,  And Morality Which

Have Hitherto Confounded The Human Intellect.

"Extract From My Magnum Opus.

"We May Reasonably Suppose That Matter Is Primordially Self-Existent,

And That It Imbued Itself With The Potentiality Of Life.  It

Therefore Produced Germs.  A Pair Of Germs Coalesced,  And Formed A

Somewhat Discordant Combination,  The Movements In Which Tended

Towards Divergence.  They Attracted And Enclosed Other Atoms,  And,

Progressing Through Sleep And Wakefulness,  At Last Arrived At

Complete Satisfaction,  Or Perfect Harmonic Combination.  This

Harmonic Combination Is Death.  We May Say Then,  In Brief,  That

Growth Is Simply