bear; but what it was to men
who had seen life in its most cultured and attractive forms I fail to
imagine. From the mine, black and foul, to the shack, bare, cheerless,
and sometimes hideously repulsive, life swung in heart-grinding monotony
till the longing for a 'big drink' or some other 'big break' became too
great to bear.

It was well on towards evening when Sandy's four horse team, with a
load of men from the woods, came swinging round the curves of the
mountain-road and down the street. A gay crowd they were with their
bright, brown faces and hearty voices; and in ten minutes the whole
street seemed alive with lumbermen--they had a faculty of spreading
themselves so. After night fell the miners came down 'done up slick,'
for this was a great occasion, and they must be up to it. The manager
appeared in evening dress; but this was voted 'too giddy' by the
majority.

As Graeme and I passed up to the Black Rock Hotel, in the large
store-room of which the ball was to be held, we met old man Nelson
looking very grave.

'Going, Nelson, aren't you?' I said.

'Yes,' he answered slowly; 'I'll drop in, though I don't like the look
of things much.'

'What's the matter, Nelson?' asked Graeme cheerily. 'There's no funeral
on.'

'Perhaps not,' replied Nelson, 'but I wish Mr. Craig were home.' And
then he added, 'There's Idaho and Slavin together, and you may bet the
devil isn't far off.'

But Graeme laughed at his suspicion, and we passed on. The orchestra was
tuning up. There were two violins, a concertina, and the 'cello. Billy
Breen was lovingly fingering his instrument, now and then indulging
himself in a little snatch of some air that came to him out of his
happier past. He looked perfectly delighted, and as I paused to listen
he gave me a proud glance out of his deep, little, blue eyes, and went
on playing softly to himself. Presently Shaw came along.

'That's good, Billy,' he called out. 'You've got the trick yet, I see.'

But Billy only nodded and went on playing.

'Where's Nixon?' I asked.

'Gone to bed,' said Shaw, 'and I am glad of it. He finds that the safest
place on pay-day afternoon. The boys don't bother him there.'

The dancing-room was lined on two sides with beer-barrels and
whisky-kegs; at one end the orchestra sat, at the other was a table with
refreshments, where the 'soft drinks' might be had. Those who wanted
anything else might pass through a short passage into the bar just
behind.