f cards, and towing an occasional
screaming Chow out of the ruins, rolled in his filthy bedding. The whole
camp of huddled shanties was razed to the ground in about two minutes,
and the diggers drew off, without having given any clue to the cause of
the disaster, leaving the heathen raging in the darkness.

At about six o'clock Jim Done and his mates were awakened and brought
pell-mell from their bunks by the sound of a great commotion coming from
the direction of the Chinese camp. They saw the Chinamen gathered near
the ruins of their dwellings, evidently in a state of tremendous
excitement. A number of them were jumping about, gesticulating wildly,
and uttering shrill cries, while half a dozen or so, armed with stout
sticks, were energetically beating an object that lay upon the ground.

'By thunder! it's a man they're murdering!' cried Jim.

Mike and the Peetrees laughed aloud. 'Not a bit of it,' said Burton.
'They're only bastin' their Joss!'

'What's that?'

'They're beatin' their god. They keep a few of them little pottery or
wooden gods round, an' if things don't go quite as well as they think
they ought to go, they up an' take it out o' the god just then on the
job, by knocking splinters off him.'

'They argue that Joss ain't been attendin' to his part o' the contract,'
said Harry Peetree, 'an' they belt him for neglectin' his business. Saw a
lot o' them blow up a big Joss at Bendigo 'cause their dirt was pannin'
out badly.'

By this time the Europeans were all up and out, enjoying the spectacle,
and Simpson's Ranges echoed their laughter, it being assumed that the
Celestials' gods were being punished for the sins of those diggers who
had wrecked the camp. Jim and Con joined a few curious men sauntering
down to take a nearer view of the ceremony.

'Wha' for?' Con asked one grave Chow who was looking on.

'Welly much bad Joss!' answered the Celestial composedly. 'Let um earth
shake-shake, all sem this, knockum poo' Chinaman's house down.'

A favourite way of tormenting the Chows was to rob them of their
pigtails. A Mongolian's pride in his pigtail is very great, and his grief
over the loss of it seems to be tinged with a superstitious fear. As soon
as the diggers were made aware of this they vied with each other in
reaving Sin Fat and hi brethren of their cherished adornments, and the
rape of the lock was a daily occurrence at Simpson Ranges. No Red Indian
was ever prouder of his trophy of scalps than