Before the day was over, he had become very hungry; but would not accept of any food offered him by the others.
“No thank’ee,” he would say, when asked to have something. “I’ll wait. We shall stop at a coffee-house before night; and I’ll make it a caution to the man as keeps it. I’ll eat all before me. My word! but I’ll make it a warning to him, whoever he be. He’ll not want to keep a coffee-house any longer.”
This curious threat was repeated several times during the day; and we all expected, when evening should arrive, to see something wonderful in the way of consuming provisions.
We at length reached the coffee-house, where we intended to stay for the night; and called for our dinners. When told to sit down, we did so; and there was placed before us a shoulder of mutton, from which, as was evident by the havoc made upon it, several hungry men had already dined.
A loaf, baked in the ashes—known in the colonies as a “damper”—some tea, in which had been boiled a little sugar, some salt, and a pickle bottle with some dirty vinegar in it, were the concomitants of the shoulder, or “knuckle” of mutton. I had sate down to many such meals before; and was therefore in no way disappointed. But the man who had been all day without eating seemed to be very differently affected. According to custom, he had to prepay his four shillings, before taking his seat at the table; and on seeing what he was to get for his money, he seemed rather chagrined.
“My word!” cried he; “I did say that I’d make it a warning to the landlord; but my word!—he’s made it a warning to me. I sate down hungry, but I shall get up starving.”
None of us could reasonably doubt the truth, thus naïvely enunciated by our travelling companion.
After reaching the diggings at McIvor, I entered into partnership with one of the men, who had travelled with me from Melbourne. We purchased a tent and tools; and at once set to work to gather gold.
Judge Lynch was very much wanted on the diggings of McIvor—as well as throughout all Victoria, during the first three years after gold had been discovered there.
Those, who claimed to be the most respectable of the colonists, did not want an English colony disgraced by “Lynch Law”—a wonderful bugbear to the English ear—so they allowed it to be disgraced by ten times the number of thefts and robberies than ever took place in California—which they were pleased to style “the land of bloodshed and crime.”