mates with the butt-end of his rifle. Like the other rebels, he was very brave against unarmed men, but cut it when the police showed they meant business.
'Have you not a revengeful feeling against the prisoner Abershaw, the one who is (very improperly, in my opinion) brought into the Court in leg-irons?'
'Well, I've the feelings of a man, and I don't cotton to a cowardly dog who kept rammin' the butt-end of his gun into the small of my back, when I couldn't defend myself. But I'm here to speak the truth, and to get justice for an innocent man.'
'I suppose you were told that you would be paid your expense for attending this trial?'
'I got a Crown subpœna. So did Martin.'
'Who served it to you?'
'A police constable at Toovale.'
'Was anybody with him?'
'Yes, Dick Donahue. He told me and my mate, Martin Hannigan, that Bill Hardwick was to be tried at Wagga for burnin' the Dundonald and shootin' at the crew. "That be hanged for a yarn!" says I. "Fancy Bill, with a farm and a wife and kids, settin' out to burn steamers and kill people! Holy Moses! Are you sure he didn't rob a church, while he was about it?" But he said it was no laughing matter, and he might get three years in gaol. So of course we come, and would have turned up if we'd had to do it on foot and pay our own expenses!'
'Of course, your Honour will note this witness's evident bias?' said the counsel for the prisoners.
'I shall take my notes in the ordinary manner,' said the Judge. 'It is not necessary for counsel to suggest points of practice to a Judge before he addresses the Court at the conclusion of the evidence.'
'Your Honour will perhaps pardon me; I thought it might have escaped your notice.'
'I trust, Mr. Carter, that nothing escapes my notice in an important criminal case. Let the next witness be called.'
'Martin Hannigan is your name?' said Mr. Biddulph. 'You were at Poliah Camp on the 28th of August, were you not? Do you know the prisoners before the Court?'
'Some of them. I know Bill Hardwick, and the man with the leg-irons, but not his name. Yes; I know the one with the black beard – they called him the President.'
'Who called him by that title?'
'The shearers, or rioters, or loafers, whoever they were. They were six of one and half-a-dozen of the other, if you ask me.'
'Never mind answering what you are not asked. What did you see them do?'
'Well – Mr. President and his mob, all armed, made Bill and me and eight or nine other chaps that came down from Tandara, prisoners of war, in a manner of speakin' – "robbery under arms" I call it, for they boned our swags, our horses, our grub, and our pack-saddles. I found the horses, when they were boltin' from the police, or we should 'a never seen 'em again; two of us had to ride bareback. I seen that gaol-bird there – he's "done time," I'll take my oath – and another man shovin' Bill Hardwick between them towards the river-bank – one of 'em was puttin' a gun into his hand – swore he'd shoot him if he didn't carry it. I saw one of 'em fire at the boat. I'd not swear he hit anybody. I heard the "President" say, "We'll burn the bally boat; that'll learn 'em to bring 'scabs' down the river." I saw the steamer blaze up after the crew and free labourers was out. Then the police came, and Martin, my mate, and I cleared for our lives. We caught our horses in a bend and rode down the river to Toovale, when we got a non-Union shed, and wired in. That's about all I know.'
By the Crown Prosecutor.
'Your name is Martin Hannigan. Are you an Irishman?'
'No, nor an Englishman either. I'm an Australian, and so was my father. What's that to do with the case?'
'I thought you were rather humorous in your evidence, that's all. The Irish are a witty race, you know.'
'So they say. I've never been there. Anythin' else you'd like to ask me?'
'Only a few questions. When were you served with a subpœna to attend this Court, and where?'
'At Toovale, on the Lower Darling. The policeman came to the shed where Cable and I were working and served us. Dick Donahue came with him, and told us that Bill Hardwick was being tried with the other men for burning the Dundonald.'
'Didn't you know before? That seems strange.'
'Well, we were workin' hard to make up for lost time, by this strike foolishness, and we were too dashed tired at night to go in for readin' papers, or anything but supper and a smoke.'
'I suppose Donahue told you all about Hardwick's being arrested, and you had a talk over the case – what evidence you could give, and so on.'
'He didn't say much about evidence. He knew we was there, and seen all there was to see; might have felt something too, if a bullet had come our way – they were flying pretty thick for a few minutes. I seen that President chap fire once, and load again.'
'And that was all that passed?'
'Yes, pretty well all; we weren't "coached," if that's what you mean.'
'You swear that you saw that man fire, and load again?'
'Yes.'
'Did you see the free labourers?'
'Yes, forty or fifty; some looked damp, as they had been chucked into the river. Some had only their shirts on. They were stood up in a line, and counted like a lot of store cattle. They cleared off like us, when the police came, and the Union fellows bolted. We passed little mobs of them makin' down the river.'
'You swear you didn't see Hardwick fire his gun?'
'It wasn't his gun, and he didn't shoot.'
The sensational part of the trial was over; other witnesses were examined for the defence. They agreed in 'swearing up' for the prisoners before the Court, always excepting for Bill Hardwick. 'The other four men had exhibited great mildness, and a desire for peace. They had not seen the captain of the Dundonald assaulted; they saw the steamer on fire – they didn't know how it had started burnin' – might have been from kerosene in the cargo – it often happened. There was some shooting, but the crew of the steamer fired first. They didn't see any of the prisoners firing at the boat, except William Hardwick. Would swear positive that he had a gun, and loaded, after he fired every time – yes, every time. Saw no men thrown overboard. Some of them swam ashore, but they did it of their own accord.'
These witnesses broke down under cross-examination.
The Crown Prosecutor made a brief but powerful address to the jury, pointing out discrepancies in evidence, and the manifest perjury committed by the last witnesses. He trusted the jury would not overlook their conduct, and appraise their evidence at its true value.
The counsel for the defence, a well-known barrister, made a long and impassioned appeal to the jury 'to excuse the more or less technically illegal acts, which, he admitted, could not be defended. It was, however, in the line of "rough justice," the origin of which was a long series of capitalistic tyranny and oppression. They had suffered long from inadequate payment for their skilled labour, for shearing was no ordinary muscle work which could be performed by the mere nomadic labourer of the day. It required an apprenticeship, sometimes lasting for years. It was difficult, and exhausting beyond all other bush labour, having to be performed at a high rate
