down and drive off the Celestials, and burn and pillage their encampments,
Sunday being a leisure day with the miners, it was not an uncommon thing to hear the band playing a lively air, such as “Cheer boys, Cheer,” &c., and see a mob of 2000 or 3000 men proceeding under their leaders, with banners and flags often ornamented with the pigtails of some unfortunate Chinamen, to the nearest Chinese encampment.
It will suffice for the present to give as nearly as possible a sketch of one such Sunday scene. On this occasion the procession arrived in Burrowa-street from Tipperary Gully, collecting stragglers on the way, till the mob numbered about 2000 men, they turned the corner into Main-street, and proceeding down that street, over the Main Creek, when they ascended a gentle rise towards Victoria Hill. On this hill were located about 300 Chinese; a neater little canvas town could not well be found. The Chinese here were making fair wages; they were industriously plying their callings, and interfering with no one. On marched the mob, and as they neared the encampment made a run for it, and, with yells and hoots, hunted and whipped the Chinamen off, knocking them down with the butt ends of their whips, galloping after them, and using the most cruel torture upon the poor defenceless creatures; in many cases pulling their pig-tails out by the roots, and planting their fresh trophies on their banners. Not satisfied with this, their next step was to rifle the tents of all the gold, and then deliberately fire every tent in the encampment. In less than two hours, all that remained of the camp—the homes of some 300 Chinese—was a heap of smouldering ruins. The Chinamen were severely handled; one poor fellow was knocked down by a horseman with a loaded whip, and his forehead cut in a most frightful manner. It is questionable whether he recovered. The procession then reformed, the band struck up “Rule Britannia,” and proceeded to the encampment at Back Creek. They met an old grey-headed man who volunteered to act as guide; the march was proceeded with, and after a walk of nearly five miles, the larger encampment was reached. It may be interesting to some of my readers to know that the grey-headed old man was not Spicer who afterwards suffered unjustly on this account.
The Back Creek encampment mustered about 500 Chinese; these were treated as badly as (if not worse than) those at Victoria Hill, One poor creature, a Britisher, who was married to a Chinaman, was maltreated by the mob, and her infant, lying at the same time in the cradle, narrowly escaped—the wretches setting fire to the cradle. But for the result of this manly expedition. Scarcely had the encampment been destroyed and the Chinese hunted away when these men jumped their claims. So matters went on until the police force was augmented, when the authori-
