Lost Lenore: The Adventures of a Rolling StoneReid, Mayne
General
Lost Lenore: The Adventures of a Rolling Stone
Reid, Mayne
Adventure stories; Dime novels; Fiction
I shall have something to say about "licence-hunting" in another
chapter--where the subject will be introduced, and more fully discussed.
My present purpose is to relate a little adventure which occurred to me
at Avoca--of which the licence-hunters were the heroes. It was this
episode, that first awakened within my mind some thoughts about the
infamous system of drawing a revenue, from the most honest and
industrious portion of the population.
It is usual for diggers--who are not provided with a licence--on seeing
the police out upon their scouting excursions, either to take to the
bush, or hide themselves in the shaft, or tunnel, of some mining claim.
This is done to avoid being searched; and, as a matter of course,
carried before a magistrate, and fined five pounds for--_trespassing on
the Crown lands_!
On the occasion in question, when I saw the licence-hunters out on their
usual errand, it came into my head to have a little amusement with them.
I had been going idle for two or three days, and wanted something to
amuse me--as well as give exercise to my limbs.
When the policemen had got within about a hundred yards of where I was
standing, I pretended to see them for the first time; and started off at
a run. They saw me, as I intended they should; and two or three of them
gave chase--under the full belief that I was an unlicenced digger. They
that first followed me were afoot; and they soon learnt that the farther
they pursued, the greater became the distance between them and me. Two
of the mounted troopers now left the side of the Commissioner; and
joined in the chase--spurring their horses into a gallop.
I was running in the direction of my own tent; and contrived to reach
it, before the troopers overtook me.
By the time they had got up to the tent, I was standing in the opening
of the canvass; and received them by demanding their business.
"We wish to see your licence," said one.
I took from my pocket the piece of paper, legally authorising me to
"search for, dig, and remove gold from the crown lands of the colony."
I handed it to the trooper.
He appeared much disappointed, at finding it was "all right."
"What made you run away from us?" he demanded angrily.
"What made you think I was running away from you?" I inquired in turn.
"What made you run at all?" put in the second trooper.
"Because I was in haste to reach home," I answered.
The two then talked together in a low voice, after which one of them
told me that I must go along with them.
"For what reason?" I asked; but received no answer. They were either
unwilling, or unable, to give me a reason.
The two policemen, who had pursued me on foot, now came up; and all four
insisted on my being taken along with them, a prisoner, to the police
camp!
I refused to come out of the tent; and cautioned them not to enter it--
without showing me their warrant, or some authority for the intrusion.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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