Back at the campsite with Annie and Sean that evening, Indy listened with ever rising aggravation as the music poured out of the Victoria Hotel in the near distance.
‘Christ almighty!’ she yelled to the sky. ‘Shut the bleeding hell up!’
‘Don’t you take the Lord’s name in vain, young lady,’ Annie scolded. But Indy’s call was soon seconded by other members of the camp.
‘I’m sorry, but if I have to listen to this much longer I won’t be held responsible for what I might do.’
A guitar played quietly nearby and Indy looked about for its owner. She spotted the Kennedy brothers, well-known musicians in the Irish camp, and standing from her seat she walked with purpose across to their tent.
‘Come on, lads!’ she prompted. ‘Play us a tune, and play it as loud as you can to drown out those blasted Yankees!’
Taking up their guitar and fiddle, the brothers began a fast and popular Irish folk song and cheers went up all around the Eureka camp. The previously subdued tenants suddenly came alive with the urge to show the Americans that they had nothing on an Irish céilí. More musicians joined the Kennedys with drums, accordion, tin whistle and even a set of spoons for percussion and the music grew louder, drawing neighbours in. The whiskey was passed around, couples danced and soon enough they had drowned out the noise of the American celebrations.
Thrilled with the impromptu party, Indy took a break from the dancing, sitting down with Sean and Annie on a long log a short distance from the frolicking crowd.
‘’Tis a fine thing to remember your roots, Indy,’ Annie told her as she clapped along. ‘That’s all the Americans are doing too.’
‘I know,’ Indy conceded. ‘But do they have to be so unholy arrogant about it?’
Annie laughed heartily and as the music played on, no one at the party paid much heed to the small group of soldiers that marched down the main street past the Eureka camp. But Indy did. She kept one eye on them as they walked quietly by. They were only a small troop, guarding a wagon of supplies just come from Melbourne no doubt. A young drummer boy led the convoy but kept his drum silent as they passed by the camp. Had they been warned of the dangers for soldiers here in Ballarat?
Indy was about to turn her back and ignore them as they went on their way to the government camp when something else caught her attention. From a tent nearest the road, a group of men crept out and ran stealthily towards the soldiers’ procession. The men wore kerchiefs across their faces and even in the dark she could see they brandished weapons.
Indy stood up. ‘What in the bloody hell are they about?’
‘What?’ Sean asked, as he and Annie followed Indy’s movements.
‘Bushrangers!’ Annie exclaimed, but her voice was drowned out by the band that had decided to up the tempo of their tunes.
‘Not bushrangers,’ Indy said, shaking her head frustrated. ‘It’s those brainless O’Toole brothers. They’re after getting themselves killed.’
She took off across the camp towards the road with Sean hot on her heels.
‘Don’t!’ Annie called after them. ‘You’ll get hurt. Indy! Sean! I’m telling you to stop!’
But Indy kept going.
Fireworks exploded into the sky, heralding the finale of the official Thanksgiving Day celebrations. The loud explosions and bright colours pulled the attention of everyone in the nearby campsite away from the passing soldiers but Indy saw none of it.
‘Stand and Deliver!’ One of the O’Toole boys called to the soldiers. The youngest of the five O’Tooles Indy realised. He was only sixteen.
The soldiers stopped walking and circled the wagon, aiming their rifles at the boys. Indy watched on with equal parts of fear and irritation. The foolish lads were going to find their way into an early grave.
Two of the O’Tooles crept from beneath the wagon and jumped the soldiers from behind. A mad wrestle for the guns ensued, but Indy’s attention was dragged away as another of the brothers climbed up onto the wagon to battle it out with the driver.
‘What are you doing, you bloody eejits?’ Indy shouted, but there was no way she was about to get herself into such a fight.
She held Sean back too.
‘We’re getting our money’s worth from our taxes,’ one of the O’Tooles called back.
‘This isn’t the way.’ Indy tried to make them see sense, but their blood was high.
‘Talking about it at meetings on Bakery Hill every other day ain’t the way neither,’ Pat, the oldest brother said, stopping beside her. He was twenty-two and likely to be dead before his twenty-third birthday with such a taste for trouble. ‘Face it, Indy. This is a war. Choose your side. You’re either Irish or you’re English.’
‘I’m Australian, you great git,’ Indy tossed back, frustrated. ‘I thought that’s what we were fighting for. Independence. You want to bring all that Irish against the English rubbish with you to this new place? What was the bloody point in us leaving?’
There was a loud explosion and a flash of light. Louder and closer than the fireworks from the celebrations. Indy’s heart leapt into her throat and she quickly looked at Sean who was equally as stunned. One of the soldier’s guns had fired and everyone seemed to stop, frozen in place.
‘Are you shot?’ she asked Sean.
‘No,’ he returned, looking himself over as though to be sure. ‘You?’
‘No.’
He was fine. She was fine.
Soldiers and bandits alike checked themselves and each other for gunshot wounds, before the fight for the wagon and its cargo began again.
Indy’s eyes were drawn to something lying on the ground a short distance from the wagon. Moving closer she saw it was the drummer boy. He was holding his leg and groaning.
‘Shite!’ she said and ran across to the boy, Sean hot on her heels.
Sure enough, he was bleeding from a gunshot wound to his thigh. Indy quickly pulled Sean’s kerchief from his neck and tied a tourniquet around the drummer boy’s upper thigh to try to stem the bleeding.
‘You’re a brave lad,’ she told him as she worked. He must have been no older than fourteen years old. Dressed in a red coat that looked much too big for his slight build. ‘Is this your first battle wound?’
‘Yes, m’am,’ he answered in a small and shaking voice.
Spooked by the shot, the horses were now trying to flee, and she and the boy were directly in their path. Indy dragged the boy to safety and watched horrified as the wagon was overturned, taking horses and men with it. Two of the would-be bushrangers continued emptying the wagon of whatever they could get their hands on—food, weapons, baggage—while the others fought off the soldiers.
Cheers went up and the battle went on attracting nearby diggers who came to help loot the goods, until finally the pack of thieves disappeared with their ill-gotten booty. The soldiers were ordered by an officer not to give chase, leaving them nothing to do but to clean up what was left of their cargo.
Indy was helping the soldiers lift the drummer boy onto the righted wagon when Commissioner Rede and a contingent of soldiers rode towards them.
‘What happened here?’ Rede demanded.
‘Ambush, sir,’ one of the soldiers replied.
Indy took Sean’s arm and was about to lead him away when she heard the Commissioner call out.
‘You there, girl!’
She stopped and turned slowly to face the most powerful man in Ballarat.
‘Did you see the perpetrators of this?’
‘No, sir,’ Indy replied. ‘They were masked.’
Rede stared at her a moment before turning his back on her.
‘The boy there is shot, sir,’ she called out. ‘He needs medical assistance.’
‘We’ll see to it,’ Rede responded barely sparing her a glance.
Indy and Sean moved back to where Annie had been watching worriedly. A single slap across the back of the head greeted both of them.
‘Getting involved in a gunfight?’ Annie lashed o
ut.
‘Ma!’ Sean complained, rubbing his head.
‘Wasn’t us who had the guns,’ Indy disputed.
Annie walked back to camp with Sean following behind her, his head hung low from his scolding. Indy took another look at the soldiers as they struggled to move the now righted and half empty wagon along the road. The horses were injured, as was the driver.
She frowned, feeling real apprehension for the first time. Until now, the aggression shown by the miners towards soldiers had been mostly vocal. While the diggers had taken to calling abuse at the military and police if they were ever in town, no one had ever purposely physically assaulted anyone from the government camp. Yes, miners had attacked Bentley’s Hotel and soldiers had been caught up in that, Will included. But no digger had ever stolen from Her Majesty’s supply before. They left that up to the bushrangers or highway thieves.
The ruckus had caused severe injury to soldiers and government workers, and Indy knew the authorities would not stand for that. It was like a red flag to a bull. There was bugger all chance of peaceful resolution now. No more petitions would be heard, Indy knew. There was no undoing what had just been done.
***
The story of the attack on the government wagon by the O’Toole brothers spread around camp faster than a dysentery outbreak. Naturally, the story was embellished with every telling. The number of soldiers had gone from eight to eighteen, the drummer boy was barely clinging to life—even though he’d been seen walking about on a simple crutch.
The following evening, spurred on by the story of courage and daring, a huge crowd gathered on Bakery Hill and Indy, Annie and Sean watched on with trepidation. A makeshift flagpole had been erected. While the Union Jack was flying, it was soon lowered and another flag was raised in its place. Indy had to admit it was impressive. The five white stars of the Southern Cross constellation, connected by white stripes on a field of deep blue—it was a symbol for the people of a new Australia. A defiant departure from the tyrannical rule of Her Majesty under the Union Jack. ‘The Australia Flag’. It was clear the miners had been planning this revelation for some time.
‘We shall no longer live under the oppression of the Union Jack,’ Lalor preached. ‘Who will stand with me?’
A cheer went up in the affirmative. Lalor walked towards the large fire in the middle of the massive crowd. He took a piece of paper from his pocket and held it aloft. His mining licence, Indy realised. She watched in disbelief as he purposely dropped it into the fire. Gasps of surprise were soon drowned out by cheers of exultation. One by one, men followed Lalor’s lead and threw their hard-earned licences into the fire.
‘Oh, Lord save us.’ Annie said, concern etching her brow. ‘Indy, what does all this mean?’
‘It’s okay, Ma,’ Sean told his mother and put an arm around her as she wrung her hands anxiously.
‘Don’t you go burning your licence, Sean,’ Annie demanded quietly. ‘I’ll not have you getting caught up in this.’
‘He’ll not burn his licence,’ Indy insisted giving Sean a firm ‘I dare you’ look.
‘I won’t,’ he said, but Indy could see the admiration in his eyes as he watched miner after miner step forward to turn their thirty shillings into ashes.
***
‘The camp is becoming stifling,’ Will told Indy as he walked back and forth along the water’s edge.
The natural spring had become their most beloved secret meeting place as it was far too dangerous for them to be seen together in town or the camps. Luckily, they could both use the excuse of going to get water for their respective camps if they were caught.
‘Since that band of diggers attacked the wagon, Rede has doubled the guard around the compound. I can hardly take a piss without a sentry watching on.’
Indy happily watched him pace off his frustrations from her position on a flat rock. Each time he walked away it gave a good view of her most favoured part of his anatomy tucked tight in his trousers.
‘I hear all the diggers burned their licences last night,’ Will said in passing.
‘Not all,’ Indy responded. ‘I didn’t. Most just went to hear Peter Lalor talk and to figure out the next move.’
Will stopped pacing and stared at her, his mouth moved in shock and he blinked erratically but no words were forthcoming.
‘You were there?’ he finally asked.
‘Of course I was there,’ she answered with a casual shrug. ‘Who wasn’t there?’
‘You shouldn’t be so glib about this,’ he said, staring fiercely into her eyes. ‘Rede was there last night. He saw everything.’
Now it was Indy’s turn to stare with her mouth open. Rede knew miners had burned their licences. That changed things. A raid would surely follow. She had to warn the miners. But would they be afraid? Or would they welcome the challenge? Her brain was working at a hundred miles an hour when Will grabbed her arms, lifting her to stand.
‘Indy, he heard everything.’
‘Will, you’re hurting my arm.’
‘They suspect something is brewing. Something bigger than just burned licences. The government camp is like a fort. More soldiers come from Melbourne every day. Rede thinks the diggers are planning to attack the government camp.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Indy said with a laugh of disbelief as she pulled out of his grip. ‘They may be hotheaded and impulsive but they’re not stupid enough to attack an entire garrison of soldiers.’
‘Aren’t they?’
Stepping to the edge of the spring, Indy chewed on a thumbnail as she stared at her reflection in the calm, flowing water. There’d been no calm at the meeting last night. There’d been hotheaded calls for action. The burning of licences had given her an uneasy feeling, to say the least. Miners talked of paying no more fees until some concessions were made by the Governor. Top of that list was being allowed to have a representative in the newly formed Victorian Government. Someone who would speak for the people. Even gentlemen miners who had erred on the side of talk rather than action seemed to have given up hope of a democratic resolution, and many of them had dropped their licence into the fire just as Lalor had.
Would a few thousand diggers be reckless enough to take on the might of the British infantry? Until the attack on the soldiers’ wagon she would have said a resounding ‘no’. But patience was wearing thin and the ill winds that blew through Ballarat were testing even the calmest of temperaments.
‘Indy, the newspapers are calling anyone who was at that meeting last night a rebel.’
He took her hands in his, snapping her out of her thoughts. ‘I don’t mind admitting I’m afraid for you. I don’t want to see you get caught up in something you can’t get out of. I don’t want to see you arrested or injured.’
‘Lalor is a level-headed man. He will keep them in check,’ Indy said, but uncertainty had taken root.
‘We both know he can’t,’ Will argued. ‘Look at the burning of the Eureka Hotel. Isn’t that enough proof that despite Lalor’s best intentions, if there’s enough grog and enough outrage in a large crowd, no one will be able to talk them down? And from what I hear, Lalor himself is now talking revolution not peaceful solutions.’
‘He’s doing what’s right,’ Indy insisted, battling her frustration. On one hand she agreed with what Will was saying. He made sense, damn him. But on the other, she was a miner and she knew that what they were asking for was justified.
She paced away a few steps, kicking at gumnuts on the ground before turning back to face him.
‘Listen, I’m not about to get caught up in the ranting of a bunch of chest-banging men. But neither am I opposed to the reasons for their dissatisfaction. You have fought in wars to save foreign countries from dictatorial rule. Yet here, the Queen’s own countrymen are the enemy. But how are these men any different in their quest for freedom from oppression?’
She braced herself, fully expecting him to launch into his usual rant about her crazy ideologies, but instead he simply smiled a
t her.
‘What are you grinning at?’ she asked, confused by his calm expression.
‘You’re magnificent, Indy Wallace. If I was not attracted to your beauty, your brain would have me spellbound just the same. How do you do it?’
‘What?’
‘You live with such passion, such determination.’
She blinked at the compliment, then shaking her head clear, she took a step back to put some distance between them.
‘Stop changing the subject. I’m mad at you.’
‘Of course you are,’ he said, moving into her again and running his finger across her jawline.
‘I … I can’t think when you touch me. So cut it out.’
‘You’re exquisite,’ he continued, and dropped a kiss on her cheek.
‘Don’t flatter me, Lieutenant, I have things to say.’
‘Then say them, Indy.’ He kissed her other cheek, taking his mouth on a journey along her chin to her ear. ‘I’m not stopping you.’
The whisper against her ear sent shivers down her spine and warmed the lowest depths of her belly. She fisted her hands at her sides to stop from grabbing him and pulling him closer.
‘Um, um, I … see now you’ve distracted me and I can’t recall exactly what I was going to say.’ She couldn’t stop the quiver in her voice as his hands trailed up her ribs to settle beneath her breasts.
‘I’m sure it was good,’ he murmured against her ear before sucking the lobe into his mouth. ‘You’ll remember it later.’
‘I will,’ she nodded, trying to access her brain through the fog of arousal as his talented hands moved up to claim first her left breast, and then her right. ‘I will remember … later.’
Giving in, she wrapped her arms about his neck, bringing his mouth to hers.
Soft and warm, his kisses sent delicious tingles through her entire body. She wanted him here and now. She wanted him to touch her in places that would incite and excite.
‘I can’t wait much longer for you,’ she said between kisses.
‘Nor I for you, Indy,’ he said and kissed her again. ‘But what can we do?’
The Girl From Eureka Page 24