wife, or child.

Such were the fates of those who succumbed to the "unholy hunger." It
was like a form of revenge taken on them, for their loveless schemes of
robbing and fleeing; a revenge contrived by the ancient, barbaric
country they had so lightly invaded. Now, she held them
captive--without chains; ensorcelled--without witchcraft; and, lying
stretched like some primeval monster in the sun, her breasts freely
bared, she watched, with a malignant eye, the efforts made by these
puny mortals to tear their lips away.

Part I

Chapter I

On the summit of one of the clay heaps, a woman shot into silhouette
against the sky. An odd figure, clad in a skimpy green petticoat, with
a scarlet shawl held about her shoulders, wisps of frowsy red hair
standing out round her head, she balanced herself on the slippery
earth, spinning her arm like the vane of a windmill, and crying at the
top of her voice: "Joe, boys!--Joe, Joe, Joey!"

It was as if, with these words, she had dropped a live shell in the
diggers' midst. A general stampede ensued; in which the cry was caught
up, echoed and re-echoed, till the whole Flat rang with the name of
"Joe." Tools were dropped, cradles and tubs abandoned, windlasses left
to kick their cranks backwards. Many of the workers took to their
heels; others, in affright, scuttled aimlessly hither and thither, like
barnyard fowls in a panic. Summoned by shouts of: "Up with you,
boys!--the traps are here!" numbers ascended from below to see the fun,
while as many went hurriedly down to hiding in drive or chamber. Even
those diggers who could pat the pocket in which their licence lay
ceased work, and stood about with sullen faces to view the course of
events. Only the group of Chinamen washing tail-heaps remained unmoved.
One of them, to whom the warning woman belonged, raised his head and
called a Chinese word at her; she obeyed it instantly, vanished into
thin air; the rest went impassively on with their fossicking. They were
not such fools as to try to cheat the Government of its righteous dues.
None but had his licence safely folded in his nosecloth, and thrust
inside the bosom of his blouse.

Through the labyrinth of tents and mounds, a gold-laced cap could be
seen approaching; then a gold-tressed jacket came into view, the white
star on the forehead of a mare. Behind the Commissioner, who rode down
thus from the Camp, came the members of his staff; these again were
followed by