. I never drank again.
But, Lyndall, sin looks much more terrible to those who look at it than
to those who do it. A convict, or a man who drinks, seems something so
far off and horrible when we see him; but to himself he seems quite near
to us, and like us. We wonder what kind of a creature he is; but he is
just we, ourselves. We are only the wood, the knife that carves on us is
the circumstance.

"I do not know why I kept on working so hard for that master. I think it
was as the oxen come every day and stand by the yokes; they do not know
why. Perhaps I would have been with him still; but one day we started
with loads for the Diamond Fields. The oxen were very thin now, and
they had been standing about in the yoke all day without food, while the
wagons were being loaded. Not far from the town was a hill. When we came
to the foot the first wagon stuck fast. I tried for a little while to
urge the oxen, but I soon saw the one span could never pull it up. I
went to the other wagon to loosen that span to join them on in front,
but the transport-rider, who was lying at the back of the wagon, jumped
out.

"'They shall bring it up the hill; and if half of them die for it they
shall do it alone,' he said.

"He was not drunk, but in bad temper, for he had been drunk the night
before. He swore at me, and told me to take the whip and help him. We
tried for a little time, then I told him it was no use, they could never
do it. He swore louder and called to the leaders to come on with their
whips, and together they lashed. There was one ox, a black ox, so thin
that the ridge of his backbone almost cut through his flesh.

"'It is you, devil, is it, that will not pull?' the transport-rider
said. 'I will show you something.' He looked like a devil.

"He told the boys to leave off flogging, and he held the ox by the horn,
and took up a round stone and knocked its nose with it till the blood
came. When he had done they called to the oxen and took up their whips
again, and the oxen strained with their backs bent, but the wagon did
not move an inch.

"'So you won't, won't you?' he said. I'll help you.'

"He took out his clasp-knife, and ran it into the leg of the trembling
ox three times, up to the hilt. Then he put the knife in his pocket, and
they took their whips. The oxen's flanks quivered, and they foamed at
the mouth. Straining, they moved the wagon a few feet forward, then
stood with bent backs to keep it from sliding back.