CHAPTER XXXV.
BALLARAT CUSTOMS, AFTER A DUEL.
A wild cheer, whether of joy or rage I could not tell, burst from the crowd as Burley fell. The vacant space which had been kept clear for duelling was filled at once by a struggling mass of people, all pressing towards the fallen bully to learn the result of his injuries.
Amidst all the confusion and struggling, our California friends managed to keep close to us, as though to afford protection in case we were molested by adherents of Burley. But no one appeared to assail us, while hundreds rushed up and shook our hands, and congratulated us on the result of the fight.
"It's well ye did it, by gar," cried our Hibernian acquaintance; "niver fear but ye is all right now. I'll fight for ye, mind, for faith, I've won a nugget on ye."
"Take your men off the ground, Charley," said the stout miner, who appeared to exercise such unlimited control over the crowd. "Take 'em off, and if they is wanted we know where to find 'em."
In obedience to this mandate we were forced off the ground towards our tent, and when we reached it we did not have to wait long for news. Indeed, we found some trouble in keeping people out, for crowds were wishing to get a sight of the man who tamed the bully of Ballarat; and had not our California friends reported that Fred was slightly wounded and desired time to have his hurts attended to, I verily believe he would have been paraded round the town on the shoulders of his enthusiastic admirers. While we were speculating on the result of the duel, and Fred was congratulating himself on getting off so cheap, Charley rushed in.
"Well, how much injured is Burley?" I asked.
"He is pretty badly hurt, but I reckon he'll get over it. The shot hit him on the hip, and if ever he does get well he'll be troubled in walking, I should think."