e, and considerable worldly wisdom in abstract matters, the
younger man yet seemed to bring a boy's mind to bear upon actualities,
and excited himself absurdly over matters which, from Mike's patriarchal
point of view, were merely the expected events of existence--the things
that happen to all men, and about which no man need distress himself. He
had seen a good deal of the women of the camps, and thought he knew the
types well. He summed up Aurora to his own satisfaction: 'Like an
eel--easy to catch, but hard to hold!' Amongst other pleasant qualities,
Mike had the comfortable human one of often being wrong in his estimates
of men and women and things. He expected the girl's infatuation to wear
itself out quickly, and meanwhile possessed his soul with patience,
prospected here and there, tried new claims, and found a few payable and
one rich before the summer came again; but he wanted to try the other
rushes, and the winter passed without his having broached the matter to
Done.

Jim was quite ignorant of the fact that he was making unfair demands upon
his mate's loyalty. They were doing well on the whole; the life on
Diamond Gully had lost none of its attractiveness--it was still vigorous
and eventful. There had been a riot in Forest Creek during May, providing
a stirring week, and many alarms and excursions on the part of the miners
and the license-hunters. Solo had visited Diamond Gully again, and neatly
victimized Cootmeyer--a gold-buyer at one of the stores--gagging his
victim with his own bacon-knife, and imprisoning him in a salt-pork
barrel. The revolutionary feeling in the hearts of the men had increased
in intensity, and the talk about the camp-fires stirred the bad blood to
fever-heat. To Done time had gone on wings so swift that he could not
mark its flight. Burton, a nomad in blood and breeding, thirsted for
change, and in ordinary circumstances would have rolled his swag and gone
on alone long ago; but the liking he had for Jim was the strongest
emotion that had crept into his stolid soul, excepting only the affection
he bore for a certain black-browed boss-cockie's daughter on the Sydney
side, and be found it hard to break away. But Aurora's hold on Jim had
not weakened so far as he could judge, and the time came at length when
his restless spirit drove him on. He broke the news to Jim one night as
they lay in their bunks, he smoking, Jim reading.

'I'm full o' this, old man,' he said abruptly.

'Of wha