Teddy Part 13

"Do! why, go into the bush, of course!" promptly answered the other.

"And how shall we get there?" next inquired Teddy cheerfully, wis.h.i.+ng to start off that very moment for the golden land he had dreamt of.

"Why, by train," said Val.

"By train!" echoed Teddy in a voice of consternation, the idea was such a terrible come down to what he had imagined.

"Yes, by train; come along with me," repeated little Maitland, catching hold of his arm; and turning into Collins Street he soon made his way to the railway depot and took a couple of tickets for Ballarat.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

THE WRECK.

"I say," began Val presently when the train was in motion.

"Well?" said Teddy rather grumpily.

He could not stomach the fact that here they were journeying along by the aid of an ordinary railway, just as they would have done in England.

When Val had suggested their going to the diggings he had imagined they would tramp thither through the bush, with their blankets and swag on their shoulders, as he had often read of men doing; and that they would end by picking up a big nugget of gold that would make all their fortunes!

The train disposed of all these dreams in a moment; for, how could they pick up nuggets along a line of "permanent way," as Jupp would have called it--a beaten track that thousands traversed every day by the aid of the potent iron-horse and a bucket of hot water?

It was scandalous that Val hadn't told him of the railroad!

It dispelled all the romance of the expedition at once, he thought grumblingly. Despite all Mr Capstan's bullying, he had not run away from the s.h.i.+p for that; so he was not at all in a mood to have any conversation with such an unprincipled fellow as Val, who ought to have enlightened him before.

"Well?" he said again, seeing that young Maitland hesitated about proceeding, his grumpy tone acting as a sort of damper to his contemplated eloquence.

"I say, old fellow," then began Val again, making a fresh start and blurting out his question, "have you got any money?"

Teddy was all sympathy now.

A comrade in distress should never appeal to him in vain!

So he commenced searching his pockets.

"I ought to have some," he said. "Father gave me a five-pound note before I left home, and Uncle Jack when I was in London with him tipped me a sovereign, and I haven't spent or changed either for that matter; but, now I come to think of it, they're both in my chest in the cabin.

I never thought of taking them out before we left the _Greenock_."

"That's precious unlucky," observed Val, searching his pockets too, and trying each vainly in turn. "I've only a couple of s.h.i.+llings left now after paying for the railway tickets. Whatever shall we do?"

"Oh, bother that!" replied Teddy sanguinely; "we sha'n't want any. The fellows I've read about who went to the diggings never had a halfpenny, but they always met with a friendly squatter or tumbled into luck in some way or other."

"That was in the old days," said Val in a forlorn way. "The squatters have all been cleared out, and there are only hotels and boarding-houses left, where they expect people to pay for what they have to eat."

"They're a stingy lot then, and quite unlike what I've read in books about the customs in Australia; but what can you expect when they have a railway!"

Teddy spoke in such a scornful manner of this sign of civilisation that he made Val laugh, raising his spirits again.

"All right, old chap!" said the little fellow. "I daresay we'll get along very well although we haven't any money to speak of with us. Two s.h.i.+llings, you know, is something; and no doubt it will keep us from starving till we come across luck."

Teddy cheerfully acquiesced in this hopeful view of things; and then the two, being alone in the carriage, chatted away merrily on all sorts of subjects until they arrived at their station, which a porter sang out the name of exactly in the same fas.h.i.+on as if they were at home.

This quite exasperated Teddy, who, when he got down and looked about him, opened his eyes with even greater wonder.

Surely this large town couldn't be Ballarat!

Why, that place ought to be only a collection of hastily-run-up wooden shanties, he thought, with perhaps one big store where they sold everything, provisions, and picks and shovels, with cradles for rocking the gold-dust out of the quartz and mud.

Where were the canvas tents of the diggers, and the claims, and all?

But, yes, Ballarat it was; although the only diggings were quarries worked by public mining companies with an immense ma.s.s of machinery that crushed the rock and sent streams of water through the refuse, using quicksilver to make an amalgam with--companies that were satisfied to get a grain of gold for every ton of quartz they excavated and pounded into powder, and realised a handsome dividend at that, where ordinary diggers wouldn't have had a chance of keeping themselves from starving.

He and little Maitland wandered about; and then, feeling hungry, exhausted all their capital in one meal, "burning their boats," like the old Athenians.

They would now have either to find something to do to get lodging or food, or else tramp it back to the s.h.i.+p.

They slept that night in the open air, under some scaffolding round a new building that was being run up on the outskirts of the town; and the next morning were wandering about again, feeling very miserable and wis.h.i.+ng they were safely back on board the _Greenock_, it being just breakfast-time, when they were accosted by a stout, hairy sort of man, dressed in a species of undress uniform.

"Hullo, my young friends!" the man said, his voice being much pleasanter than his looks, "where do you hail from? I don't think I've ever seen you in Ballarat before."

"You wouldn't again if we could help it," replied Teddy so heartily that the hairy man laughed as jollily as might have been expected from his musical voice.

"Ah! I think I know who you are," he observed, eyeing them both critically.

"Well, you must be a conjuror if you do," answered little Maitland, who had a good deal of native impudence about him, "considering we haven't been twenty-four hours in Australia!"

"What say you to Maitland being your name and Vernon that of your companion, eh, my young c.o.c.ksparrow?" said the man with a quizzical look. "Am I conjuror or not?"

The boys stared at each other in amazement.

"Well," exclaimed Teddy at length, "this is certainly the funniest country I have ever been in. The diggings that I've read about in print over and over again have all vanished into nothing, and here there are railways running through the bush, with people knowing who you are twenty thousand miles away from home. It is wonderful!"

"Not so very wonderful after all, Master Teddy Vernon," suggested the hairy man at this juncture. "I'm an inspector of police here, and we received a telegram last night which had been circulated in all directions from the chief office at Melbourne, saying that you two young gentlemen were missing from the s.h.i.+p _Greenock_, just arrived from England, and that any information about you would be gladly received and rewarded by Captain Lennard, the commander of the vessel."

"I'm very glad," said Teddy, interrupting any further remark the inspector might have made. "We came away suddenly because of something that occurred on board; and now I sha'n't be at all sorry to go back again, for we have no money or anything to eat. Besides, the place isn't a bit like what I expected--there!"

"Ah! you're hungry, my young friends, and that soon takes the pluck out of a body," observed the inspector kindly. "Come along with me and have some breakfast, after which I'll see you into the train for Melbourne."

"But we haven't got any money," said Teddy, looking at him frankly in the face.

"Never mind that," he replied jokingly. "I daresay I can put my hand on an odd sixpence or so, and this I've no doubt your captain will pay me back."

"That he will," cried Teddy and Val together in one breath; "besides, we've got money of our own on board the s.h.i.+p, only we forgot to bring it with us."