Youth — Highly Commended, Noah Maxwell
Noah Maxwell is 11 years old and attends Carinya Christian school in Tamworth. He lives on a small acreage just out of town with 2 brothers and a few animals. He loves soccer, bike riding and writing in his spare time. He reads almost every book he can get his hands on and particularly loves history and adventure genres.
In their Shoes
The Diary Of Riley Thomson
Friday, 8th June, 1852
My name is Riley Alexander Thomson, and today is my birthday! I am turning twelve. I woke up this morning and jumped out of bed, running outside to the small fire Dad had started.
“Good morning, sleepy head,” Mum said, smiling.
After Mum, Dad, Jessie and Millie had all wished me a happy birthday, I received my present. Because we were poor, us kids only got two presents a year each, (one for our birthday, and one for christmas). For my present, I got this diary. I have never written a diary before.
Dad took me to his claim to show me how he mines for gold. He works with two other mates, Peter and James Hardy.They are really nice to me. Dad showed me how to turn the windlass to wind up the gold or bring up one of his mates. I could wind up the gold, but Dad had to help me wind Peter up!
Saturday, 9th June
When we first arrived here in Ballarat, I thought that it was going to be horrible and boring with nothing to do. But it isn’t that bad; there are plenty of adults here to talk to, but it would still be nice if there was another boy to play with. We only came here because Peter and James were going, and Dad wanted to go too. Dad told Mum that we could still stay in Sydney, but Mum insisted that we come too. So here we are.
Sunday, 10th June
Because there is no church near us, every Sunday we sit together with James and Peter and their two wives, (Mary, married to James and Elizabeth married to Peter), and have a bible study.
A new family moved next to us in a small tent. I saw a boy, about my age, helping his father collect some firewood. I would have gone over to talk to him, but Mum called me over for dinner. I think that I will talk to him on Tuesday, because I am going to help Mum go shopping tomorrow.
Tuesday, 12th June
Today I talked to the new boy. He said that his name was Joseph. He seems just as happy as me to see another boy on the goldfields!
Saturday, 16th June
Joseph’s family was robbed last night. He told me that he heard muffled voices outside his tent in the middle of the night. He just assumed that it was his Dad talking with his friends. But then, this morning, after he and his family got back from shopping, the found their tent in ruins.
Containers of food were on the ground, money was scattered, and the one piece of gold that his father had found since the six days of them being here was gone.
Joseph and I played marbles together, and I won a marble that I really liked. I think that I will call it Dragon Eye. Joseph won one of my favourites, Gold Nugget. It looks exactly the same colour of real gold.
Tuesday, 18th June
Another family was robbed, and it is believed to be the same men who robbed Joseph’s family. The troopers think that they are the local bushrangers, the Jones Gang. Troopers are now patrolling the edges of the green sea of tents, putting up wanted posters. They are all carrying guns at the ready. I asked Dad if they would really shoot for the kill, and Dad said he had no doubt they would; the Jones Gang had caused a lot of trouble, and even killed some policeman before. I wonder what it would be like to be in hiding, wanted by authorities and hated by people, forced to steal to survive.
Friday, 21st June
Something terrible happened today. Dad took me gold mining again and Joseph came with us. Afterwards, when we were walking home, and Dad realised he forget his licence. A little bit later, we rounded a corner and three troopers rode up beside us and demanded to see our Miners Rights. Dad’s face went pale.
“I left it at my tent,” he protested. “I can go get it…”
The troopers just sneered. “Tut, tut, tut,” one said. “David Thomson.” “How do you know me?” Dad asked.
The trooper took off his black cap, which was shading his face. “Don’t you know who I am?” He pointed to the scar that ran from his cheek bone to the centre of his left cheek. I recognised him at once. It was Mr Cook, Dad’s old boss. Mr Cook and Dad used to get into heaps of arguments. Dad used to be a policeman before we moved from Sydney. He calls Mr Cook ‘Scarface.’
Anyway, Dad was tied up and taken with the troopers up the hill where the rest of the troopers were. They told Joseph and I to go back and tell Mum what happened. They said they would tie Dad to a tree, and that he would not be able to go until we showed them a licence.
Joseph and I sprinted home. We found Mum, and when we told her what had happened, she shook her head and said that Dad rarely remembered to bring his license when mining. She told Joseph and I to search our tent for the licence. I think that we could have been looking for almost ten minutes until we finally found it sitting under a piece of paper. When I picked up the card, I gasped. The expiry date was the 19th of June! We have to buy another one. When I showed Mum, she said that she had spent most of the money yesterday, buying food. She said that Dad would have to wait until we could afford to buy a new license. Poor Dad.
Saturday, 22nd June
Today, Joseph and I were walking along the path to Mr Wood’s shop when we passed a wanted sign for the Jones Gang nailed to a tree, and we stopped to look at it. The four names imprinted on the poster were Michael Turnbull, Steven Peterson, John Carter and Peter Jones. The reward for capturing them (dead or alive) was £300!
“A lot of money, isn't it,” a voice said behind me.
Joseph and I whipped around to see two men smiling at us.
“Oh, sorry didn’t mean to frighten you,” said the man who spoke before.
He was very tall. I had to crane my neck to look up at him. The other man, however was shorter and strongly built.
The short man held out his hand to me. “Steven Clark,” he said, and then shook Joseph’s hand. “I’m Riley Thomson, and this is Joseph Hill,” I said.
Mr Clark gave Joseph a funny look.
“And I’m Michael Patterson,” the tall man said. “Pleased to meet you, Riley and Joseph. Well, we must be leaving now.”
And with that, they strode off.
“They were nice,” Joseph said. I agreed.
Monday, 24th June
Today we finally saved up enough money to let Dad free. Mum and Jessie went to buy the license. Then we all went up to the troopers and showed them the license. They untied Dad, who wearily stepped forward towards us. As soon as we got back to our tent, Dad collapsed onto his bed.
That afternoon, I passed by Mr Clark and Mr Patterson talking to two other men on my way back from Mr Wood’s shop, carrying fruit and vegetables for Mum. Mr Clark saw me, and beckoned me over to them.
“Hi Riley, this is John Fisher and Peter Mall.”
The two men shook my hand, and then I said I had better get this food home to Mum. On my way home, I couldn’t help thinking that the four men’s names seemed familiar from somewhere, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.
Monday, 1st July
I can’t believe what I saw this morning. Joseph and I were swinging on the rope swing we put up in a tree close to our camp, and we saw Mr Clark, Mr Patterson, Mr Fisher and Mr Mall talking in low voices some ten metres away.
“That was close,” Mr Fisher said.
“If you didn’t cough and give us away, Jones, the troopers wouldn’t have seen us,” Mr Clark said angrily.
“Your the one who stirred up the dust, Peterson,” Mr Mall replied.
“Now everyone will be on high alert for the ‘Jones Gang’,” Mr Patterson said.” We better stay low for a while.”
Then, the four men turned and moved away. Joseph and I stared at each other. Now I know where I heard the names before. I have met the members of the Jones Gang.
Thursday, 4th July
I have not told Dad about the Jones Gang yet. Joseph and I talked to them today. They seemed so nice, unlike the angry, running men we saw on Monday.
At one point I asked,”Do you know the Jones Gang?”
I saw mixed expressions on their faces. Mr Mall seemed like anger. Mr Clark suspicion. Mr Patterson a look of shame. Mr Fisher’s face did not change. At last, Mr Clark spoke up. “You saw us on Monday, didn’t you?”
Joseph and I nodded.
All of a sudden, Mr Mall asked us if we had told anyone. Joseph and I shook our heads. “Promise me you will tell no-one!” He cried. Joseph and I promised, and then Mr Clark told us their real names. Mr Clark was actually Steven Peterson, Mr Patterson was actually Michael Turnbull, Mr Fisher was John Carter, and Mr Mall was Peter Jones, the leader of the gang. “You robbed my tent!” Joseph said accusingly.
Mr Peterson put his hands up in self defence. “Sorry! We have to steal food to eat!”
After a little bit more talking, Mr Turnbull told us to go, making us promise again to not tell anyone about the gang.
Saturday, 6th July
Our tent caught on fire this morning. Dad had lit a small campfire out the front of the tent, and then a large gust of wind blew some flames towards the tent. The edge of the tent caught on fire, and it quickly spread. We managed to put it out soon, but a few clothes and food were burnt. Then I realised that the back pages of this diary were burnt to a crisp. I only have a little bit of space left in it now. I am afraid that I will have to wait until christmas to get a new diary.
Monday, 8th July
Today is a day that I will never forget. I was walking with Joseph this morning, and we heard raised voices and horses hoof beats on the dry, rocky ground. We ducked behind a tree as four horses came thundering past us. I immediately recognised one of the riders as Mr Peterson.
Then a few seconds later, eight troopers followed in pursuit, loading their guns. After they had gone, Joseph and I came out from behind the tree and stared up the dusty path where the horses had gone. We heard gunshots, and then a yell of agony and a whinnie of despair from a horse. I turned to look at Joseph. His face was pale.
“Let’s go back to the tents,” I said quietly.
As we made our way back to the camp, we saw many people muttering and talking in small groups, casting nervous glances up the hill where guns were still going off. As we arrived back at the tent, I saw Mum, Dad, Jessie and Millie were huddled up together around a fire. Joseph said goodbye, and he went back to his family.
“There you are!” Mum said. “Thank goodness you are okay!”
“It looks as if they have caught the Jones Gang at last,” Dad said to me.
But I just stared into the flickering flames of the fire, like red tongues licking at the wood below them.
Later that afternoon, Dad came back from his gold mining, face drenched with sweat. He bought us news about the earlier events. The Jones Gang had apparently been caught stealing horses. The troopers chased them, the gang managing to steal a horse each. When they reached the top of the hill, the troopers began firing guns at the rebels. In the first few minutes, Michael Turnbull was shot, and he fell from his horse, dead. The remaining three members of the gang tried to take cover in an old abandoned building. But by that time, more troopers had arrived, and began to close in on them. The three men managed to find guns in the old building, and opened the windows and began shooting at the troopers. Soon though, John Carter and Steven Peterson were shot down, which only left Peter Jones. The leader of the Jones Gang put up a great fight, but was eventually shot from behind.
And now, as my pages come to an end, I think about my time on the goldfields, and the four members of the Jones Gang, now dead, and I feel sad. Even though I know that what the Jones Gang did was wrong, I still can’t forget the cheerful, friendly men I had spoken to. I don’t believe they were the evil-hearted rebels everyone thought they were. Maybe they were just good men thrown into a bad situation. I wonder if I would have acted different if I were in their shoes???
Friday, 8th June, 1852
My name is Riley Alexander Thomson, and today is my birthday! I am turning twelve. I woke up this morning and jumped out of bed, running outside to the small fire Dad had started.
“Good morning, sleepy head,” Mum said, smiling.
After Mum, Dad, Jessie and Millie had all wished me a happy birthday, I received my present. Because we were poor, us kids only got two presents a year each, (one for our birthday, and one for christmas). For my present, I got this diary. I have never written a diary before.
Dad took me to his claim to show me how he mines for gold. He works with two other mates, Peter and James Hardy.They are really nice to me. Dad showed me how to turn the windlass to wind up the gold or bring up one of his mates. I could wind up the gold, but Dad had to help me wind Peter up!
Saturday, 9th June
When we first arrived here in Ballarat, I thought that it was going to be horrible and boring with nothing to do. But it isn’t that bad; there are plenty of adults here to talk to, but it would still be nice if there was another boy to play with. We only came here because Peter and James were going, and Dad wanted to go too. Dad told Mum that we could still stay in Sydney, but Mum insisted that we come too. So here we are.
Sunday, 10th June
Because there is no church near us, every Sunday we sit together with James and Peter and their two wives, (Mary, married to James and Elizabeth married to Peter), and have a bible study.
A new family moved next to us in a small tent. I saw a boy, about my age, helping his father collect some firewood. I would have gone over to talk to him, but Mum called me over for dinner. I think that I will talk to him on Tuesday, because I am going to help Mum go shopping tomorrow.
Tuesday, 12th June
Today I talked to the new boy. He said that his name was Joseph. He seems just as happy as me to see another boy on the goldfields!
Saturday, 16th June
Joseph’s family was robbed last night. He told me that he heard muffled voices outside his tent in the middle of the night. He just assumed that it was his Dad talking with his friends. But then, this morning, after he and his family got back from shopping, the found their tent in ruins.
Containers of food were on the ground, money was scattered, and the one piece of gold that his father had found since the six days of them being here was gone.
Joseph and I played marbles together, and I won a marble that I really liked. I think that I will call it Dragon Eye. Joseph won one of my favourites, Gold Nugget. It looks exactly the same colour of real gold.
Tuesday, 18th June
Another family was robbed, and it is believed to be the same men who robbed Joseph’s family. The troopers think that they are the local bushrangers, the Jones Gang. Troopers are now patrolling the edges of the green sea of tents, putting up wanted posters. They are all carrying guns at the ready. I asked Dad if they would really shoot for the kill, and Dad said he had no doubt they would; the Jones Gang had caused a lot of trouble, and even killed some policeman before. I wonder what it would be like to be in hiding, wanted by authorities and hated by people, forced to steal to survive.
Friday, 21st June
Something terrible happened today. Dad took me gold mining again and Joseph came with us. Afterwards, when we were walking home, and Dad realised he forget his licence. A little bit later, we rounded a corner and three troopers rode up beside us and demanded to see our Miners Rights. Dad’s face went pale.
“I left it at my tent,” he protested. “I can go get it…”
The troopers just sneered. “Tut, tut, tut,” one said. “David Thomson.” “How do you know me?” Dad asked.
The trooper took off his black cap, which was shading his face. “Don’t you know who I am?” He pointed to the scar that ran from his cheek bone to the centre of his left cheek. I recognised him at once. It was Mr Cook, Dad’s old boss. Mr Cook and Dad used to get into heaps of arguments. Dad used to be a policeman before we moved from Sydney. He calls Mr Cook ‘Scarface.’
Anyway, Dad was tied up and taken with the troopers up the hill where the rest of the troopers were. They told Joseph and I to go back and tell Mum what happened. They said they would tie Dad to a tree, and that he would not be able to go until we showed them a licence.
Joseph and I sprinted home. We found Mum, and when we told her what had happened, she shook her head and said that Dad rarely remembered to bring his license when mining. She told Joseph and I to search our tent for the licence. I think that we could have been looking for almost ten minutes until we finally found it sitting under a piece of paper. When I picked up the card, I gasped. The expiry date was the 19th of June! We have to buy another one. When I showed Mum, she said that she had spent most of the money yesterday, buying food. She said that Dad would have to wait until we could afford to buy a new license. Poor Dad.
Saturday, 22nd June
Today, Joseph and I were walking along the path to Mr Wood’s shop when we passed a wanted sign for the Jones Gang nailed to a tree, and we stopped to look at it. The four names imprinted on the poster were Michael Turnbull, Steven Peterson, John Carter and Peter Jones. The reward for capturing them (dead or alive) was £300!
“A lot of money, isn't it,” a voice said behind me.
Joseph and I whipped around to see two men smiling at us.
“Oh, sorry didn’t mean to frighten you,” said the man who spoke before.
He was very tall. I had to crane my neck to look up at him. The other man, however was shorter and strongly built.
The short man held out his hand to me. “Steven Clark,” he said, and then shook Joseph’s hand. “I’m Riley Thomson, and this is Joseph Hill,” I said.
Mr Clark gave Joseph a funny look.
“And I’m Michael Patterson,” the tall man said. “Pleased to meet you, Riley and Joseph. Well, we must be leaving now.”
And with that, they strode off.
“They were nice,” Joseph said. I agreed.
Monday, 24th June
Today we finally saved up enough money to let Dad free. Mum and Jessie went to buy the license. Then we all went up to the troopers and showed them the license. They untied Dad, who wearily stepped forward towards us. As soon as we got back to our tent, Dad collapsed onto his bed.
That afternoon, I passed by Mr Clark and Mr Patterson talking to two other men on my way back from Mr Wood’s shop, carrying fruit and vegetables for Mum. Mr Clark saw me, and beckoned me over to them.
“Hi Riley, this is John Fisher and Peter Mall.”
The two men shook my hand, and then I said I had better get this food home to Mum. On my way home, I couldn’t help thinking that the four men’s names seemed familiar from somewhere, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.
Monday, 1st July
I can’t believe what I saw this morning. Joseph and I were swinging on the rope swing we put up in a tree close to our camp, and we saw Mr Clark, Mr Patterson, Mr Fisher and Mr Mall talking in low voices some ten metres away.
“That was close,” Mr Fisher said.
“If you didn’t cough and give us away, Jones, the troopers wouldn’t have seen us,” Mr Clark said angrily.
“Your the one who stirred up the dust, Peterson,” Mr Mall replied.
“Now everyone will be on high alert for the ‘Jones Gang’,” Mr Patterson said.” We better stay low for a while.”
Then, the four men turned and moved away. Joseph and I stared at each other. Now I know where I heard the names before. I have met the members of the Jones Gang.
Thursday, 4th July
I have not told Dad about the Jones Gang yet. Joseph and I talked to them today. They seemed so nice, unlike the angry, running men we saw on Monday.
At one point I asked,”Do you know the Jones Gang?”
I saw mixed expressions on their faces. Mr Mall seemed like anger. Mr Clark suspicion. Mr Patterson a look of shame. Mr Fisher’s face did not change. At last, Mr Clark spoke up. “You saw us on Monday, didn’t you?”
Joseph and I nodded.
All of a sudden, Mr Mall asked us if we had told anyone. Joseph and I shook our heads. “Promise me you will tell no-one!” He cried. Joseph and I promised, and then Mr Clark told us their real names. Mr Clark was actually Steven Peterson, Mr Patterson was actually Michael Turnbull, Mr Fisher was John Carter, and Mr Mall was Peter Jones, the leader of the gang. “You robbed my tent!” Joseph said accusingly.
Mr Peterson put his hands up in self defence. “Sorry! We have to steal food to eat!”
After a little bit more talking, Mr Turnbull told us to go, making us promise again to not tell anyone about the gang.
Saturday, 6th July
Our tent caught on fire this morning. Dad had lit a small campfire out the front of the tent, and then a large gust of wind blew some flames towards the tent. The edge of the tent caught on fire, and it quickly spread. We managed to put it out soon, but a few clothes and food were burnt. Then I realised that the back pages of this diary were burnt to a crisp. I only have a little bit of space left in it now. I am afraid that I will have to wait until christmas to get a new diary.
Monday, 8th July
Today is a day that I will never forget. I was walking with Joseph this morning, and we heard raised voices and horses hoof beats on the dry, rocky ground. We ducked behind a tree as four horses came thundering past us. I immediately recognised one of the riders as Mr Peterson.
Then a few seconds later, eight troopers followed in pursuit, loading their guns. After they had gone, Joseph and I came out from behind the tree and stared up the dusty path where the horses had gone. We heard gunshots, and then a yell of agony and a whinnie of despair from a horse. I turned to look at Joseph. His face was pale.
“Let’s go back to the tents,” I said quietly.
As we made our way back to the camp, we saw many people muttering and talking in small groups, casting nervous glances up the hill where guns were still going off. As we arrived back at the tent, I saw Mum, Dad, Jessie and Millie were huddled up together around a fire. Joseph said goodbye, and he went back to his family.
“There you are!” Mum said. “Thank goodness you are okay!”
“It looks as if they have caught the Jones Gang at last,” Dad said to me.
But I just stared into the flickering flames of the fire, like red tongues licking at the wood below them.
Later that afternoon, Dad came back from his gold mining, face drenched with sweat. He bought us news about the earlier events. The Jones Gang had apparently been caught stealing horses. The troopers chased them, the gang managing to steal a horse each. When they reached the top of the hill, the troopers began firing guns at the rebels. In the first few minutes, Michael Turnbull was shot, and he fell from his horse, dead. The remaining three members of the gang tried to take cover in an old abandoned building. But by that time, more troopers had arrived, and began to close in on them. The three men managed to find guns in the old building, and opened the windows and began shooting at the troopers. Soon though, John Carter and Steven Peterson were shot down, which only left Peter Jones. The leader of the Jones Gang put up a great fight, but was eventually shot from behind.
And now, as my pages come to an end, I think about my time on the goldfields, and the four members of the Jones Gang, now dead, and I feel sad. Even though I know that what the Jones Gang did was wrong, I still can’t forget the cheerful, friendly men I had spoken to. I don’t believe they were the evil-hearted rebels everyone thought they were. Maybe they were just good men thrown into a bad situation. I wonder if I would have acted different if I were in their shoes???
