Show r n 1 Christmas in Australia 1 A long narrow track curls In and out amongst the forest trees like a Croat dirty yellow ribbon Tho sun pours down upon It all day long and tho unceasing glare adds to Its ugliness ugli-ness Thorn la no sign of molsttiro anywhere within sight not n drop of water has fallen from tho blue skies tor six months past Tho wheels of wagons and the hoofs of horses have churned and kicked the surface of the track Into fine red dustso fine that every passing breeze picks up tho powdered earth and plays with It On the straight stretches of tho forest for-est trail tho hruezo carries the dustin dust-In a filmy haze like tho dun colorud mist ono meets with at eventide In the China sens Where tho trail bonds suddenly to right or left the playful winds catch up the dust and whirl It round and round In swiftly revolving circles lifting It higher and hlehei until Its topmost spirals seem to molt Into tho very sides All along l tho track the trees on both sides are covered with dust It lies thickly upon tho trunks It clings to tho boughs It bows down tho leaves giving n straight up and drop them straight down again seldom skimming tho surface and nover stumbling They are due at tho mining camp tonight for they nro ladon with Christmas cheer and many a storekeeper lookIng look-Ing at his empty shelves and at tho crowds of diggers lounging about with well stocked pouches curses Said Mahomet tho owner of tho caravan cara-van for not hurrying his men and his beasts but tho curso of a Christian Christ-Ian storekeeper Is only so much clio wind In the ears of the Mohammedan camel king though at the giving of curses ho Is neither niggardlY nor slow himself for ho hates all unbelievers un-believers though ho carries their trade and pouchds their money Half a dozen horsemen como along tho track each rider leading a pack I I horse by a halter Long of limb are I those men bearded for tho most part with dry thin weathertanned faces They pulle1r broadbrimmed soft I felt hats pulled far down over their brows to keep the dust out of their I eyes They sit loosely In tho saddle I with n slovenly careless scat and I I I Little squads of horsemen dash in from tho outside camps wearing white soft slouch hats bluo or red I shirts breeches and spurred boots They sing and shout merrily and get and return chaff with careless tree dom All Is noise nnd motion all is merriment and reckless freedom for the diggers are out to spend their gold and spend it they will though the heavens fall Llttlo brown men and women too from Japan dressed In all their Oriental finery jostle their way amidst the eager crowd tho Jap women smiling gaily as tho bronzed bronz-ed diggers toss them playful compliments compli-ments A seriousfaced Chinaman now and then puts In an appearance his big plaited straw hat long pigtail and saffron colored robe looking out of place amidst the whirl of Australian life The Chinaman gets no compliments compli-ments ho Is not welcome on a goldfield gold-field and he knows It and what Is more ho has no legal right there a lclh honise knows line thrall fact which ho also knows as well as his neighbors The sun sinks In a bipodred bank of clouds In tho West there Is a great eager for quarrels groups link arm inarm and go reeling down tho causeway cause-way shouting singing capering laughing rlpo for fun or mischief Hark a bell rings out loud and high above the din a bell that tells that Christmas day has come Hark yet again A young girls voice comes stealing sweetly through the warm night air other voices Join In and blond with It strange sounds to catch the listening ear amidst such surroundings ° HIM it the herald nugcls sing Glory to tho newborn King Glory glory glory glory Glory to tho newborn lang Along tho causeway comes tho little lit-tle band of carol singers At their head a wandering preacher who with his daughter goes wherever the Spirit calls him The man carries his hat In his hand and sings In a deep miss that Is almost a roar The girl with hands folded In front of her with her bonnet pushed back almost on to her n ge fills the street with melody Glory glory glory glory I Glory to tho newborn King The halfdoen disciples who follow 11 I d in t t t > L i U k r r w f r ra t 1 sit ran S 3 4 r y i 1 y r 1 l Yh it F 7 pix t ifd 2f r iv 4 rf at M f S + ykSA a da Ww k ft i f t 1 h i 3 + 1 k + urs a wt q r r fx 4 S I r r r rW fSf i1 firM fir-M y3 a t a w 0 a 4 r 1 e + 1i A w I T rTTtC t a t I L s a IL s strange unnatural appearance to everything that grows If you wore not a bushman you could not tell one tree from another under that summer mantle Illoodwood auondong blue gum sandal wood stringy bark bull oak red gum Iron hark currojong No living thing can exist where that mantle lies no birds twitter amongst tho branches because tho dust has killed off all Insect life oven tho lizards liz-ards have tied from their haunts In tho hollow trunks Thero Is no grass on either side of tho track not a I solitary blade tho dry season has I Killed It all off Hero and there you i note tho groy ashes at what hail been I teamsters camp fires with a smoldering I smolder-Ing ember at Intervals glistening In the groynoss like a bloodshot eye Inn In-n sodden face You turn a beau In tho trail and como upon a string of eighty or a hundred camels all heavily heav-ily laden with stores Their Afghan drivers In blue blouses dirty white baggy calico trousers and dirtier turbans tur-bans plodding along ankle deep In soil that Is softer than snow strange dark fierce looking men with Jot black gleaming eyes and curly ebon beards big broad shouldered men who will neither eat nor drink with tho Christian teamsters prospectors or diggers Their camels trailing ono behind tho other each with Its nose line attached to the tall of the boast in front of it make but little dust they lift their great padded feet moo look to an untrained eye as If It would not take much to shift them should a horse buck suddenly or stumble Yet most of them could ride n whirlwind If they could only saddle sad-dle It t for thoy aro Australian plo noors making their way into tho big mining camp in time for tho Christmas Christ-mas revels that aro certain to take place The great camp comes in sight Along A-long narrow gully flanked on both sides by low hills dotted nil over with dirty tents that look too hot to shield oven a dog on such a blistering day In front ot nearly every business place no matter whether It bo mado of galvanized iron wood or bag and canvas tho owners have tied a liberal amount of fresh green foliage All day long men havo boon busy bringing bring-ing in great wagon loads of young treqs anti green branches cut in tho forest closo by and the business folk have purchased liberally Camels are Kneeling In tho highway high-way whilst their Afghan drovers unload un-load them and they guggle and cluck and groan dismally as though loth to part with their burdens Mulos with ears laid flat back and big dirty dir-ty yellow teeth laid bare stop quickly quick-ly through tho throng drawing carts dally decorated and covered with quaint devices planned by the different differ-ent tradesmen to whom they belong Auctioneers and cheap jacks are holdIng hold-Ing impromptu sales In the open air glow on all tho earth and the glory of tho everlasting skies fills tho world with splendor Tho crimson flame flickers for a moment then dies out and tho clouds turn purple then black and tho night Is mistress of he mining camp A myriad lights leap Into being Chinese lanterns glow In every bunch of greenery they flutter across the track In long gleaming strings Then women and boys rldo down the highway on tho horses on mules on camels and all carry Chinese Chi-nese lanterns that dodgo and danco and glisten Joyously Old comrades who have boon sundered for years meet and clasp hands in tho sturdy grip the digger loves they shoulder their way to tho nearest bar and drink to tho memory of comrades burled and comrades bankrupt and live again through tho scenes that made them friends Old foes meet and pass each other with a scowl or a muttered oath for your digger Is a sound hater as well as a good lover Tho click of tho billiard balls Is heard and the direful rattle of the dicebox Gamblers were at work with cards In many a spot and gold that has cost months of toll to win is lost In a few hours mad plunging Fiddles squeak accordions wall and harps twang in the dancing saloons Champagne corks fly fast and furiously and the revel grows fiercer and fiercer As tho night wears on men reel out of the drinking hells flushed hot ho preacher and his daughter take up the wools and send tho old old messago ringing proudly Joyously Into tho very heart of tho night The music the words touch nhd stir the I crowds thoy cease to shout and yell They cease to dance and drink they I cease to curse and gamble Out from the drinking dens they pour into tho street out from the gambling hells out from tho dancing saloons A mighty hush falls on tho camp Hughie tho Baker chief professional profes-sional gambler In tho camp leans I his elbows on tho window sill ol his hotel and quietly tears his cards I across the middle ono by ono and drops his dice box out amongst the feet of tho crowd Then Just as somo of the baser spirits in the throng try to drown tho choir voices with a ribald shout tho gambler thinking of his faroff homo amdst the green English lanes raises hisI deep rich voice a volco that every I digger knew and blending perfectly with tho volco of tho preachers daughter sings Hark the herald angels sing Glory to the newborn King Glory glory glory glory Glory to the newborn King Then tho whole street bursts into ono great glad song of praise and adoration and Christmas camo to tho campA Q Hales In Montreal Herald Her-ald |