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 what?’

‘Oh, of Diamond Gully!  I reckon it’s played out or thereabouts.’

’And we got twelve ounces a man for the last week’s work.

’Not enough, Jimmy.  Not more ‘n wages, an’ men like you ’n me should be in the thickest an’ richest of it.  I’m gettin’ along to-morrow.’

‘You mean to say you are going?’ Done jerked himself on to his elbow and stared across the tent at his mate.

‘Um—­m Mean to try a new rush.’

’Anything wrong, Mike?  Have I been getting on your raw lately?  You want to break up this partner ship of ours.’

‘My oath, no!’ Mike had raised himself eagerly, and was looking at Jim.

Then you reckoned on having me along?’

‘No; I thought maybe you wouldn’t care to pad out from here jes’ yet awhile.

’If it rests with me, mate, where you go I go.  You’ve given me a bit of a jolt, old man.’

‘You’ll come, then?’ cried Mike.

‘Why, yes!  What should keep me?’

The two men gripped hands, and a few minutes of, silence followed, during which Mike’s pipe went out and Jim’s book fell to the floor.  Both were more moved than they cared to show.

‘This makes things much more comfortable,’ said Burton presently.

‘Where do we go?’

‘To Jim Crow, an’ from there we may make tracks to Ballarat.

‘To Ballarat!’ The name epitomized all that Done knew of mining life and the aspirations of the diggers.