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ONCE A WEEK.
[July 13, 1861.

trance of the tent didn’t bark, I just gave myself an extra coil in the blankets, and was soon in the land of Nod. I seldom got up of a Sunday much before ten, but as my mate and I had agreed to go out on the plains that day after some turkey that had been seen about, and it being my week to cook, I roused out pretty early, lighted the fire, and set to work to get breakfast ready. I was busy frying the chops, when, looking up, I saw Alick coming along the road from the township. He had his gun under his arm and a brace of snipe in one hand.

‘Why, Alick,’ said I, ‘you have been out after the birds pretty early.’

‘Oh,’ says he, ‘Charley made such a cursed row this morning, that he woke me up, and, as I couldn’t get to sleep again, I thought I would try if there was anything to be got along the creek. I have been pretty well all the way to the township, and this is all I’ve lighted on.’

‘Well,’ says I, ‘I hope we shall have better sport, at any rate.’

‘I hope you will,’ says he; and into his tent he goes.

“Well, things went on pretty much in the old way with us for the next few weeks—the only thing in any way remarkable was the change that had come over Alick. Since Charley’s departure he never shut himself up of a night as he used to do, but came out regularly and sat with the rest of us till the very last man went off,—and then even he did not seem much inclined to turn in himself. Not that he was a bit more pleasant than before, for formerly he used to speak now and then, but now he never so much as opened his mouth, but sat smoking and staring into the fire, and looking altogether as miserable as a bandicoot. Nobody cared about him for a mate—and indeed he never looked after one himself, but went and worked as a hatter[1] at some surfacing which had just been struck on the side of Iron-bark Gully. The stuff wasn’t very rich, but as there was a considerable depth of it, and it was very easy washing, being quite free from clay, and not requiring above two waters, he did pretty well at it. He had taken to save his money, too, for his Sunday journeys to the township were entirely dropped, and the Stars and Stripes wouldn’t have him at any price, though he begged hard to be let in. Well, it may have been a couple of months or thereabouts after Charley left us that me and my mate were sitting one fine night in front of our tent doing our pipes. It was full moon, and pretty nigh as light as day. Alick had been working late, and was busy in his tent getting his supper ready, to cook which he had lighted a big fire not very far from where we were seated. I had just been talking to my mate about Charley, and was wondering whether he meant to come back for his things or to leave them for me, when who should I see come out of the bush just behind Alick’s tent but Charley himself. He was dressed just the same as usual—gray shirt, red sash and all, but looked, if possible, a trifle more bloodless than ever. To my surprise he passed by the tent, and though I shouted out to him he took no notice, but walked straight over to the fire and sat down on a log which lay beside it, with his back towards us. Well, I was just going up to ask him what he meant by cutting a couple of old pals in that style, when out came Alick, carrying a billy full of soup in his hand, which he was going to warm up, and as he kept stirring it round while he walked, he did not notice Charley, who sat quite still, looking at the fire, without ever saying a word. Alick stooped down, settled the logs so as to make a firm place on which to set his pot, and as he lifted up his head after placing it on the fire, he caught sight of Charley. Never shall I forget his face, if I were to live a thousand years. For about half a minute he stood as still as if he were turned into stone—his mouth wide open, his eyes starting out of his head, and his cheeks as white as pipe-clay; then, with a horrible yell, he fell head foremost in the fire. My mate and I rushed up, dragged him from amongst the blazing logs, and when we had done so, and turned round to look for Charley, he was gone. Well, I can tell you, I began to feel pretty scared, and no mistake.

‘Ned,’ says I, to my mate, ‘there’s something wrong here. If that wasn’t Charley himself it was his ghost, and I am sure if he had been living he would never have gone off like that, without having a talk with us and the rest of the boys.’

‘Nonsense,’ says he, ‘there ain’t any such thing as ghosts.’

But though he pretended to laugh at the whole affair, and said that Charley was only having a game with us, I could see by his looks that he was more inclined after all to be of my opinion than of his own. However, we didn’t have much time for talking, for all the while we were holding up Alick, who, though not very badly burned, was quite insensible. We carried him into his tent, and tried everything we could think of to bring him round, but as it was all of no use, my mate proposed that he should sit up with him one half the night, and I the other. Well, it might have been about midnight when my mate came and woke me up. ‘Why,’ says I, ‘what’s the matter with you? you look as white as a ghost?’ ‘Get up,’ said he, ‘and come along with me. Poor Charley, I am afraid it’s all over with him.’ As I couldn’t get anything more out of him, I hurried on my clothes and went with him to Alick’s tent. By the light of the candle, which stood on the table near the head of the bunk, I could see Alick’s features plainly. He was asleep, but his face was perfectly livid, and the perspiration was rolling in huge drops down his forehead. For about a quarter of an hour he lay like this quite still, my mate and I watching him in silence. Suddenly, however, he raised himself up, and screamed out:

‘Keep him off! keep him off! he has come to drag me down to hell. His grave cannot hold him, and yet I buried him deep down, deep down. Mercy, my God, mercy, mercy, mercy!’

“His screams gradually grew fainter, and at last he fell back perfectly exhausted.

‘Has he been taken like that before to-night?’ says I.

‘Yes, just before I came and woke you up.’

‘Well, you go and turn in now, and I will
  1. A digger who works alone is so called.