Ballarat.
by Peter Clarke
The sun was in his eyes, but weak enough – as the day was nearly done – for him to clearly see the diggings. There was some order to the tents that were nearby, with a few wooden buildings sprinkled among them. But in the distance, William could see tents scattered across the diggings in total disorder. It reminded him of the hill overlooking Belfast. He thought he was looking at a valley, but would later discover that it was a flat that looked like a valley because it was largely denuded of trees.
There were hills to the left and the right, what looked like a lake ahead, and a river with creeks running into it. It wasn’t God’s work that took his breath away – it was man’s. The evidence of work was everywhere. And it was a mess. The road ahead was churned into a sea of mud. Animals and vehicles moved along it, but he could see no order to their movement. There was a lot of yelling and cursing as people fought for the best way through.
The tents were mostly on the flat, but there were a few others on the sides of the hills that he could see. They were on both sides of the river, but the largest concentration was slightly to his right.
“Main town’s over there, but you wouldn’t know it. Hard to tell in this mess where anythin’ is,” Mike said, pointing.
William looked and saw that it was true. There were some more buildings, but no more order to the right and in the distance. He next became aware of the smell and was reminded of the odour in the air as he approached Belfast. “Tanning,” the driver had said at the time, but he couldn’t see any evidence of tanning here.
“What’s the smell?” he said to Mike.
“Bit of everythin’”, said Mike. “Shit, people, animal parts. Not much good when you’re downwind.”
“Animal parts?”
“Yeah. There are lots of butchers here. Diggers mostly eat meat, but not all of the animal gets eaten. Bits that aren’t are often left lyin’ around or dumped in a hole to rot. See over there where the dogs are fightin’? There’s a butcher right there and he must have been cuttin’ for supper. Matter of fact, nearby’s where we’re goin’, so you’ll get to see it up close. That’s Tom’s shop down there. C’mon. Be dark soon. We need to get the horses stabled.”
They continued down a slope and finally went to a tent with a fenced off yard beside it. There was a small, wiry, dishevelled man sitting outside the tent on a stool, smoking a pipe.
“Mike,” he said, as they approached.
“Joe. I’ll be needin’ your services. Usual price?”
“Aye. Tom good for it?”
“Aye. I’ll take the dray to the shop first. This is Bill. He’ll leave his horse now. I’ll be back soon.”
“He’ll have to unsaddle ‘im. Tell ‘im that’s not part of the service.”
“I think he knows. Do you know that, Bill?”
“Aye, I know.”
“Well, then, unsaddle him and put the saddle on the dray. Bridle, too.”
William nodded and tried to get off the horse. His body hurt so much, he almost cried out with the pain as he tried to swing his right leg over. He twisted his left foot out of the stirrup and lay on his stomach across the horse’s back.
“Your friend looks like he might be new to a horse,” said Joe.
William slid to the ground and took a few moments to settle himself before reaching under the horse to undo the cinch strap. He then slid the saddle and blanket off as one and walked painfully and carefully over to the dray. Mike was grinning from ear to ear. William walked back and took the horse by the bridle. He leant his head against his neck and whispered, “Thank you.” The horse nodded. He walked it over to Joe who stood and slipped a rail out of place, allowing William to walk the horse into the yard.
As he passed Joe on the way back, Joe said, “Take it easy, Bill. You’ll hurt for a bit, but it’ll pass. Happens to everyone.”
William climbed painfully onto the dray, Mike flicked the reins and said, “I’ll be back soon.”
“I’m not goin’ anywhere,” said Joe.
It wasn’t far to the shop. When they arrived, Mike stopped and said, “You wait here. I’ll get Tom. Don’t let anyone touch anythin’.”
It wasn’t yet dark, but there were two lighted lamps hanging on poles outside. People stood in front of the shop chatting. Mike walked past them and went in. William was cold, tired and hungry, but Mike didn’t come back. Several people went into the store, but came back out immediately and waited outside. Other people emerged with goods and walked away. No one said anything to William, nor did they touch the dray. Traffic moved up and down the road, some hurrying as though to get somewhere before dark.
At last, Mike and another man emerged.
“This here’s him,” said Mike. “Bill, this is Tom.”
Tom walked over and shook hands. The handshake was firm and friendly. His eyes sparkled, his dark hair was slightly receding, and his smile was broad and welcoming.
“I’m very pleased to meet you, Bill,” said Tom, stepping back and staring, as though doing another appraisal. “Unfortunately, the day’s not done yet. You and Mike will have to unload the dray. I’ve some customers to attend to, but when I’m done, I’ll help. Mike will show you what to do. He tells me that you are stiff and sore. Well, some work might help to loosen you up.”
He turned and walked back to the store.
“C’mon everyone, store’s open again.”
The people standing outside the store all followed Tom as he went back in.
Mike looked at William and smiled.
“C’mon, Bill. Let’s get to it. One of us has to be outside at all times. Goods’ll go missin’ if we don’t keep an eye on them. We’ll stack everythin’ just inside the tent, so while one’s in there, one’s out here.”
It was dark when they finished unloading the dray and William was past exhaustion. They hadn’t seen Tom at all – the steady stream of customers must have kept him busy. Tom had been right about the work though – most of the stiffness was gone from his body.
When they were done, Mike took the dray and horses to the stable.
“Go on in,” said Mike. “Tell Tom we’re done. I’ll be back soon.”
It was William’s first real look inside. The room was quite big with a wooden floor. Aside from where they had stacked the goods from the dray, goods were stacked almost without order. There were boxes, bottles, tins, bags and clothes stacked about, and in some cases, piled on top of each other from the floor to the ceiling. The tent was made from canvas over wooden poles. Tom was just on the right inside the door at a table, serving some customers. Other customers wandered about the store, selecting goods for purchase.
“Pull that door shut,” said Tom when he saw William. “I’ll be finished shortly. If anyone tries to get in, tell them we’re closed for the day.”
The door was canvas over a wooden frame. It didn’t look strong and William wondered how it stopped anyone getting in. Some people arrived at the door, but made no fuss when William told them the store was closed. They simply turned and walked away. Mike arrived back from stabling the horses. He went and sat on a chair at the back of the store. William continued with his job of turning people away. He was really tired and wanted Mike to do it, but Mike didn’t offer and he didn’t ask.
Eventually, the last customers left and Tom was done. He walked over and slid a pole through some holes in the wood attached to his side of the door.
“Won’t stop a stampede or an army, but keeps the wind out,” he said. “C’mon, Bill, let’s see to some supper and get you to bed.”
William hadn’t seen it before, but the back wall was mud and bark and there was a fireplace near to where Mike was sitting.
“C’mon Mike, you’ve done it before and can help. Bill, you can have Mike’s chair. We’ll get some supper in two shakes of a lamb’s tail. All the modern conveniences here, Bill. Inside fireplace.”
William sat in the chair and drifted to sleep almost immediately.
Tom shook him awake.