Los Angeles herald., 1891-04-15
THE GOLD NUGGET.

It was given to Effie to take care Of
It was not a great prize, for it weighed
only seven ounces, but it represented the
only result of strong mans toll for
many weeks, and as nuggets go it was
considered by no means bad 'sfind."
John Archer decided that the nugget
would be safer in his little daughters
keeping than in his own. There were
thieves and lawless men at this new
gold rush, as at all new gold rushes, and
they would know of his prize. They
would probably try to annex it.
They would search all sorts of cunning
hiding places in the neighborhood of his
tent; they might even creep into the hut
at night, to feel under his pillow and
among his rough bedding for the yellow
earth that folk hated each other for. If
he caught the thief he would shoot him,
but better not to run the risk of losing
his treasure, and so he gave it to Effie to
put in her old workbox. The thieves of
the t diggings would be too cunning
to think of examining such an improba-
BILE hiding place.
"You must take great care of it, dar-
ling" said John Archer. at is for your
mother" And Effie slowed the little
nugget away in corner of the old work
box-which had been her mother's-un-
der the cotton and the socks she was
darning for her father. She felt duly
weighted with the responsibility. She
knew that this yellow earth was of great
value, for her father, leaving her mother,
who was very delicate, with some friends
in Brisbane, had come a long, weary way
to find it, and she had seen his sorrow,
his despair, as day after day he had
eagerly worked with pick and spade
without finding what he sought.
Having hidden the little nugget away,
Effie came out of the hut to look round
and see if any one was near who might
have seen her. No. No one was near
who might have seen her-only Billy the
black-King Billy, the aboriginal mon
arch, who loved rum and tobacco, and
who was chopping firewood for her.
King Billy evidently had not seen, for
he was welding the AK with quite ex-
ceptional vigor; and if Billy had seen it
wouldn't have mattered very much, for
Efie trusted him.
The little girls reason for trusting
King Billy, the black, was somewhat
strange, and is worthy of being recorded.
She trusted him because she had been
kind to him.
But Effie was only twelve.
As the child stood in the broad light,
her tumbled hay hued hair kissed and
illumined by the bold rays of the sun,
and her round, trustful blue eyes shaded
from the glare by two little brown
hands, watching King Billy at his work
q flock of laughing jackasses alighted in
q neighboring gum tree, and set up de-
moniac cachination. What made the
i'll omened birds so madly merry? What
was the joke? Efie's trust? Billy's graft
tude? They failed to explain, but their
amusement was huge and sardonic.
"Drive them away, Billy" cried Efie,
and the obedient king dropped his AK
and threw faggot of wood at the tree,
which stopped the laughter and dispersed
the merry makers.
BILLY tired now," said the black grin
ming; ''too much work-plenty wood"
and he pointed to the result of his labor.
eyes, that will be enough, thank you
You're good boy. I'll give you some
tobacco"
"Billy's thirsty"
"Then you shall have some tea"
'sNo tea. Rum"
"No, Billy. Rum isn't good for you"
"Good for miners; good for Billy"
"No, it's not good for miners" said
Efie emphatically; ''it makes them fight
and say wicked things"
"Makes black feller feel good" de-
clared Billy, rolling his dusky eyes.
This last argument was effective. Effie
went into her hut-her father had re-
turned to his work-and poured little
spirits from John Archer's flask into a
''pannihin." Billy drank the spirits with
rolling eyes, smacked his lips, and then
lay down in the shadow of the hut to
sleep.
The long afternoon passed very slowly
for Efie. Her few trifing duties as
housekeeper were soon done. The little
hut was tidied and the simple evening
meal prepared, and some hours must
pass before her father returned. How
could she pass the time? She had only
two books-a Bible and volume of
stories for little girls, which she had
won as a prize at school in Brisbane.
But she was too young to appreciate the
first, especially as the type being very
small it was difficult reading, and she
had grown beyond appreciating the
stories for little girls, having known
them by heart three years before. She
would like to have slept.
Everything around her suggested and
invited the siesta-the steady heat; the
brightness of the light without the hut;
the distant murmur of miners voices,
which came from beyond yonder belt of
waffle gums; the monotonous hum of
the locusts in the forest; the occasional
fretful cry of a strange bird, and the
regular snores of the fallen king, who
slumbered in the shade of the hut. Even
the buzz Of the annoying flies assisted
the general effect and brought drowsi-
ness.
To remain still for few minutes
would have meant inevitably falling
asleep. Effie felt this, and remembered
the little gold nugget. If she slept,
some thief might come and take it.
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