“Well, we'll do our share of yacker, mister,” said a man named Dick Scott.
“And I'll do mine. As soon as I am fit some of you must lend me a couple of horses, and I'll ride down to the Bay.{ *} I daresay I can get all that we want there in the way of machinery without my going or sending to Brisbane for it.”
* The present city of Townsville, then always called “The Bay,” it being situated on the shores of Cleveland Bay.
On the following morning work was started by the six men, the landlord of the public-house agreeing to cook for all hands for the first week, while Grainger and the black boy (though the former was still very weak from recurrent attacks of ague) tried numberless prospects from all parts of the heaps of tailings. At the end of a week the miners began to raise some very likely-looking stone! and Grainger, finding some jars of muriatic acid among the stores belonging to the battery, made some further tests of the tailings with results which gave him the greatest satisfaction. He, however, said nothing about this to his new mates, intending to give them a pleasant surprise later on in the week before he left on his journey to the coast.
At six o'clock one evening, just as the men were returning from the claim for supper, Jacky, the black boy, was seen coming along the track at a fast canter. He had been out looking for some cattle belonging to Jansen the landlord, which had strayed away among the ranges.
“What's the matter, Jacky?” asked the men, as the boy jumped off his horse.
“I bin see him plenty feller Chinaman come along road. Altogether thirty-one. Close to now--'bout one feller mile away, I think it.”
Consternation was depicted on the faces of the men. And they all began to question Jacky at once, until Grainger appeared, and then the black boy gave them farther particulars--the Chinamen, he said, were all on foot, each man carrying two baskets on a stick, but there were also five or six pack-horses loaded with picks, shovels, dishes, and other mining gear.
“Curse the dirty, yaller-hided swine!” cried Dick Scott, turning excitedly to Grainger. “What's to be done? They've come to rush the Flat again; but, by thunder! I'll be a stiff 'un afore a Chow fills another dish with wash-dirt on Connolly's Creek.”