lerance of man towards man, the absence of petty
prejudices, and the large appreciation of individual liberty that
belonged to the character of a brave, self population to be
manifestations of an absolute freedom; he found the men fired with a
passionate aspiration for liberty, just as the masses in England had been
five years earlier, and possessed of even more substantial reasons for
revolt. The idea of the young republic delighted him; he was already
prepared to shed his blood in establishing that glorious ideal. Stories
he had heard of the indignities to which the miners were subjected by an
insolent bureaucracy, of men being hunted down like dingoes and beaten
with the drawn swords of the troopers because of their failure to comply
with the outrageous licensing decrees, bred in him a hatred akin to that
felt by the diggers who had suffered in person.

But Done's first experience of a license-hunt was largely farcical. Mr.
Commissioner McPhee had chosen a sweltering hot day for his hunt. Most of
the diggers on Diamond Gully were below, sheltered from the mordant rays
of a sun that blazed in the cloudless sky, so close to earth that its
heat struck the face like a licking flame. Jim had just brought some
picks from the smithy, when he saw the troopers, headed by the magnate on
a fine chestnut, descend upon the gully, their glazed cap-peaks and their
swords flashing gaily in the sun. The mounted men divided at the head of
the gully, and came down on each side of the lead; the foot police
followed Commissioner McPhee, head Serang and cock of the walk from
Sawpit Gully to Castlemaine. The duty of the foot police was to rouse the
diggers out of their drives, and enforce the orders of the high and
mighty McPhee. On Diamond Gully the wash was so shallow that the police
had no difficulty in getting the men to the surface, and the inrush of
the troopers was the signal for a swarming The men poured from the
crowded claims, and in a few seconds the gully was awakened to violent
action, and given over to tumult.

The air resounded with the yells of the miners, raised in warning and
derision. 'Jo!--Jo!--Jo!' The cries travelled the whole length of the
lead, like a salute of musketry. Mike came up the rope, hand over hand.

'A license-hunt,' he said. 'Now you'll see how these gaol warders amuse
themselves.'

'What are we supposed to do?'

'Have your license handy. Show it to Huntsman McPhee, and keep your hands
off his hound