The Parson of Jackman's Gulch - Page 2

waggon was hired, and the whole treasure was
conveyed to Ballarat, guarded by the police and by a certain number
of miners, who took it in turn to perform the office. Once in
Ballarat, it was forwarded on to Melbourne by the regular gold
waggons. By this plan the gold was often kept for months in the
Gulch before being despatched, but Conky Jim was effectually
checkmated, as the escort party were far too strong for him and his
gang. He appeared, at the time of which I write, to have forsaken
his haunts in disgust, and the road could be traversed by small
parties with impunity.

Comparative order used to reign during the daytime at Jackman's
Gulch, for the majority of the inhabitants were out with crowbar
and pick among the quartz ledges, or washing clay and sand in their
cradles by the banks of the little stream. As the sun sank down,
however, the claims were gradually deserted, and their unkempt
owners, clay-bespattered and shaggy, came lounging into camp, ripe
for any form of mischief. Their first visit was to Woburn's gold
store, where their clean-up of the day was duly deposited, the
amount being entered in the storekeeper's book, and each miner
retaining enough to cover his evening's expenses. After that, all
restraint was at an end, and each set to work to get rid of his
surplus dust with the greatest rapidity possible. The focus of
dissipation was the rough bar, formed by a couple of hogsheads
spanned by planks, which was dignified by the name of the
"Britannia Drinking Saloon." Here Nat Adams, the burly bar-
keeper, dispensed bad whisky at the rate of two shillings a noggin,
or a guinea a bottle, while his brother Ben acted as croupier in a
rude wooden shanty behind, which had been converted into a gambling
hell, and was crowded every night. There had been a third brother,
but an unfortunate misunderstanding with a customer had shortened
his existence. "He was too soft to live long," his brother
Nathaniel feelingly observed, on the occasion of his funeral.
"Many's the time I've said to him, 'If you're arguin' a pint with
a stranger, you should always draw first, then argue, and then
shoot, if you judge that he's on the shoot.' Bill was too purlite.

He must needs argue first and draw after, when he might just as
well have kivered his man before talkin' it over with him." This
amiable weakness of the deceased Bill was a blow to the firm of
Adams, which became so short-handed that the concern could hardly
be worked without the admission of a partner, which would mean a
considerable decrease in the profits.

Nat Adams had had a roadside shanty in the Gulch before the
discovery of gold, and might, therefore, claim to be the oldest
inhabitant. These keepers of shanties were a