one was on the point of being run down. I marvelled to see him keep the unbroken ground with the gulley at his side impracticable for cavalry; but no, he made straight on for a bunch of tents with a speed I never saw equalled by a pedestrian. It was even betting, too, that he would have reached the screen first, when lo! he stopped short so suddenly as only just to escape being ridden down by the Commissioner--the Cardigan of the charge--who seized him by the shirt collar in passing. The rush of diggers now became diverted to the scene of caption. I hurried forward there too, although fearing I should witness the shedding of blood and the sacrifice of human life; but as I approached I was agreeably disappointed at hearing loud roars of laughter, and jeering outbursts of 'Joe! Joe!' amidst which the crowd opened out a passage for the crest-fallen heroes, who rode away under such a salute of opprobrious epithets as I never heard before, for the young fellow who led them off the idle chase stopped short the moment he saw the real fugitive was safe, coolly inquiring of his captor 'what crime he was guilty of to be hunted like a felon.' 'Your license, you scoundrel!' was the curt reply. Upon which he put his hand in his pocket and pulled out the document, to the ineffable disgust of their high mightinesses, who in grasping at the shadow had lost the substance. "It was a capital ruse, adopted in an emergency, and played with greater skill than if there had been a regular rehearsal. I flatter myself that I am a loyal man on the average, and a respectable upholder of law and order; but I was unable to repress an emotion of gratification at the result of the chase, or an impulse of hero worship, as I sought the sole actor in the successful diversion to offer my congratulations. The myrmidons of the law now moved up the middle of the gully in close order, attended by anything but an admiring cortége, who made it a point never to let the cry of 'Joe! Joe!' subside for a moment. Occasionally a license was demanded, and its production was the signal for fresh outbursts of the tumult; but the 'license meet' was brought to a close by two other successful feints that were played off by a pair of diggers, who simulated a guilty timidity and dropped themselves in a slide down their ropes into the bottoms of their wet holes, followed by a brace of traps with dashing gallantry, who chased them into the muddy drives, where the lurkers purposely crawled to lead their pursuers into the muck. Of course they were hauled up in triumph, but the hallelujahs were quickly superseded by choking screams of 'Joe! Joe!' when the prisoners produced their digging warrants. The Commissioner did not venture on another 'throw off,' but moved away sullenly with his forces to the tune of 'Joe! Joe! Joe!' and expressions of regret 'that he would have to drink the Royal Family's health after dinner at his own expense,' and such-like observations."