The Great Crushing at Mount Sugar-Bag | Page 5

best part of the day in the scrub. He had brought his dinner, and enjoyed his laborious task. As soon as it was finished he carefully poured the bright filings into a canvas bag, and threw the vice and rasp far into the scrub. Then, just at dusk he carried the heavy bag home unobserved.
That night, as they turned in, he said to his mates--
"We must all be up at old Ikey's to-morrow night, boys, to see the mailman come in. I think we are pretty sure to get Jim Kettle's wire to-night. I asked him to send it at once."
It may be mentioned here that although there was no telegraph station at Sugar-bag, there was at Big Boulder, a small but thriving minig township five miles away, and telegrams sent to any one at Sugar-bag were sent on by the postmaster at Big Boulder by Dick the mailman.
"Here's Dick the mailman coming!" and the crowd of diggers that sat in Ikey Cohen's bar lounged ouside to see him dismount.
In a few minutes he came inside, and first handing the small bag that contained the Sugar-bag mail to Mr. Cohen, who at once, by virtue of his office, proceeded to open it and sort out the few letters, he went to the bar at Buller's invitation for a drink.
"How are you, boys? How goes it, Rody? I'll take a rum, please Missis. How's the claim shapin', Durham?"
"Here's a delegram for you," said Ikey, handing the missive to Durham, and wishing that he could kept it back till the morning, so as to have made himself acquainted with its contents.
"Thank you," said Durham. "I wonder who it's from?"
"No bad news, Harry, is there?" said Mrs. Ikey, sympathetically; "you look very serious."
"Oh, no; it's from Jummy Kettle; he and I and Tom Gurner--who went to South Africa--used to be mates on the Etheridge; and without further explanation he walked away, accompanied by Rody and Buller.
Early next morning, as Mr. Cohen opened his store and pub, Durham walked in.
"Look here, Cohen, I want to sell out and get away. Will you give me something for my horse, and ten pounds for my share in the crushing? Rody can't do it, of course; neither can Buller."
"No, I von't," said Mr. Cohen; "I ain't going to throw away any more money. Vere do you want to go to?"
Durham, with a gloomy face, handed him the telegram he had received. It ran as follows:-
"From JAMES KETTLE, Adelong.
"To HENRY DURHAM, Sugar-bag, N.2.
"Tom Gurner returned. Has done well. Wants you and me to go back South Africa with him. Will stand the racket for passage money. Steamer leaves Sydney in four weeks. Hurry up and join us."
"Can't you give me a lift at all?" said Durham, after Cohen had read the telegram.
"No, I can't."
"Then blarst you, don't! I'll foot it to Townsvill, you infernal old skunk."
Sure enough that day he did leave, but not on foot, for some one lent him a horse, to be returned by the mailman. Rody accompanied him part of the way and gave him some final instructions.
On the day that Durham reached Townsville Rody and Buller began crushing their stone at the mill. The forty tons of stone were to go through first, and were to be followed by the stuff from Mason's and Crow's old claims, which had been carted down to the mill. As Rody surmised, the stone showed for about ten penny weights, and the second day, about dusk, they "cleaned up," squeezed the amalgam into balls, and placed it in an enamelled dish, ready for retorting.
"Four of these will do us," said Rody, taking out that number of balls of amalgam, pressing them into a flat shape, and thrusting them into his trousers pockets; "here's that old swine Ikey coming now to see if we are robbing him."
"Vell, how does she look?" inquired Cohen.
Rody, with a face of gloom, pointed to the amalgam in the dish. "It'll go about ten pennyweights," he said, "but we're going to start on that other stuff to-morrow. It's patchy, but I believe there's more in it than there was in the quartz."
"Vell, vat are you going to do with this amalgam? Von't you redord (retort) it now?"
"No," answered Rody, "It's not worth while having two retortings. Take it away with you--you have the best right to it--and lock it up. then, as soon as we have put this mullocky stuff through, we will retort the lot together. It won't take long running that stuff through the battery--it's soft as butter."
Then, after carefully weighing the amalgam, Rody handed it over to Mr. Cohen for safe keeping, and he and Buller went up to their humpy for the night. But before they bade Mr. Cohen good-night, Rody wrote out a few words on a slip