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Boreu Gwener, cychwynasom at ein cyn-gartref, yn unol a’n haddewid i’r garddwr, gan ymdroi yn fwriadol, a chyrhaedd yno rhwng deg ac unarddeg o’r gloch y nos. Pan yn agoshau at fangre’r garddwr, daeth ci y tyddyn attom, a chan iddo ein colli bump diwrnod, ni wyddai pa sut i’n derbyn yn ddigon croesawgar; milgi cryf yn ei feingefn, hir ei gorph, a’i enw Blucher, oedd y creadur ffyddlon, yn gallu cynnal Jack ar ei gefn, er ei fod yn agos naw ugain ei bwysau. Llawenhaodd y ci, a phranciodd, gan neidio cyfuwch a’n penau, ac ysgwyd ei gynffon yn hoenus, nes iddo braidd ein taflu i lawr; ond wedi cael ganddo lonyddu ychydig, cerddasom yn arafaidd at ddrws yr ardd, galwodd yr ail îs-lywydd ar y garddwr, a chlybu yntau yn ebrwydd, gan neidio i agor clo y drws a’n gollwng i mewn i’w fwthyn, a dywedyd, “Yr oeddwn yn eich dysgwyl i fyny, ond meddyliais rai gweithiau yr ymdröesech tua’r dref ddyddiau yn hwy.” Yna cyfeiriodd a’i fys at eirias o dân, a mynegodd wrthym, “Crochanaid o gloron, a darn o gig mollt sy genyf ar y tân yn berwi, am na chefais fawr o drefn ar giniaw heddyw, drwy i mi sori, a hyny yn herwydd fy mhryder mawr am danoch chwi, o ofn y deuech yma a minnau heb ofalu am ymborth i’ch diwallu.” Ychwanegodd, gan ofyn, “Pa beth a wnaethym debygech chwi?” Attebasom, “Y mae yn anhawdd dyweyd.” “Tynnu ffrae ar y cogydd a wnaethym,” ebe yntau, “gan ei alw yn llipryn budr, a dywedyd nad rheswm i undyn oddef ei goginiaeth, ac mai rhaid oedd i mi gael ymborth i’w goginio fy hunan fel y dewiswn: a thrwy ffreuo felly, heb achos gyda’r cogydd, llwyddais i gael digon ar eich rhan.” |
On Friday morning we started out for our former home, in accordance with our promise to the gardener, purposely dawdling, and arriving there between ten and eleven o’clock at night. As we approached the gardener’s place, the farm dog came up to us, and having missed us for five days, could not welcome us warmly enough; the loyal creature was a greyhound called Blucher, with a long body and a back strong enough to support Jack, though he weighed near a hundred and eighty pounds. The dog rejoiced and frolicked, jumping as high as our heads, wagging his tail in delight, and almost knocking us to the ground; but, cheered a little by this, we trudged on to the garden-door, where the second mate called for the gardener, who soon heard us, and bounded to the door to let us into his cottage, saying, “I was waiting up for you, but I thought at times you might have stayed on in the town a few days longer.” Then he pointed at a glowing fire, and told us, “I’ve a potful of potatoes, and a piece of mutton boiling on the fire, as I couldn’t manage much dinner today, and that because I was fretting and worrying over you, for fear you’d arrive and I couldn’t provide enough food to satisfy you.” He went on, asking, “What do you suppose I did?” We replied, “That’s hard to say.” “I picked a quarrel with the cook,” he said, “calling him a useless wretch, and saying there was no reason why any man should suffer his cooking, and I needed to get my own food to cook as I pleased: and by quarrelling like this without cause, I was able to get enough for you.” |
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Wedi i ni roddi cymhorth i’r garddwr fwytta ei grochanaid pytatws a chig, aeth allan i’r ardd, a dygodd attom eirin, afalau, gerllyg, ac amryw o’r pomgranadau, ac felly gwledda yn hir a wnaethom. Dywedodd y garddwr hefyd, “Yr wyf eto, ddynion, heb allu cael fy nghyflog gan fy meistr: bum gydag ef amryw weithiau ar ol eich myned ymaith, yn gofyn degpunt i brynu dillad yn Mash; ond ei ateb oedd, fy mod yn ceisio gormod i’w dyfetha ar unwaith, gan ofyn ai ni wnai llai y tro. Nid oeddwn, ac nid ydwyf yn dewis cymmeryd llai arian na degpunt, hyd oni phrofaf ef i’r eithaf, ond os na allaf, trwy unrhyw fodd, gael hyny, cymmeraf ganddo lai.” Pan glywsom ymadrodd y garddwr, yng nghydag ymddyddanion eraill, meddyliasom am gysgu. Dymunai ef i un o honom gymmeryd ei wely, ac iddo yntau orwedd ar lawr; ond nis gallem ymfoddloni, ac archasom iddo ef fyned i’w wely, gan orwedd ar y llawr ein hunain. |
After we had helped the gardener eat his pot of meat and potatoes, he went out into the yard, and brought us plums, apples, pears, and some pomegranates, and so we feasted long. The gardener said, “I’ve still not got my wages from the master: I saw him several times after you left, and asked him for ten pounds to buy clothes in Mash; but he said it was too much to spend at once, and asked whether less would do. It wasn’t too much, and I’ll not accept less than ten pounds until I’ve tested him thoroughly, and if really can’t get that, then I’ll take less.” After hearing this and other things the gardener had to say, we began to think of sleep. He wanted one of us to take his bed, while he slept on the floor; but we could not allow that, and urged him to go to his own bed, while we slept on the floor ourselves. |
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Oddeutu pedwar o’r gloch, boreu Sadwrn, dywedodd y garddwr mai’r ffordd oreu a fyddai cymmeryd ymborth gyda ni, a myned oddi wrth yr ardd, y palas, a’r tyddyn, oddeutu dwy filltir o ffordd i’r goedwig, a dychwelyd gyda’r nos; am yr ystyriai y gallai i’r meistr neu yr arolygwr ymweled â’r ardd ac a’i fwthyn yn ystod y dydd a’n gweled, ac felly dinystrio ein cynllun; ac am hyny, cydsyniasom a’i gais. |
About four o’clock on Saturday morning, the gardener told us the best course would be to take some food with us, and proceed from the garden, mansion, and farm as far as two miles along the way to the forest, and then to return at night, as he thought the master or the overseer would visit the garden and his cottage during the day and see us, so ruining our plan. We agreed with his suggestion. |
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Safai y palas ar droed mynydd, oddeutu cant a haner o latheni oddi wrth yr ardd, ac afon gul yn eu gwahanu ar amser gwlawogydd, gan lifo heibio pen yr ardd; ond yr oedd gwely’r afon yn sych y tro hwn, o herwydd y gwres, ac hefyd yn o ddwfn. Felly, aethom dros y clawdd i waelod gwely yr afon, a symudasom ein hunain ar ein cyrcydau, nes ein myned o olwg y tŷ a’r tyddyn, a dringasom i ben bryn i’r goedwig, fel na allai neb ein gweled. Yn y fan honno, ymddyddanasom a chanasom ar hyd y dydd, a dychwelasom i’r ardd ar ol machlyd haul, at wybod y modd y bu rhwng y garddwr a’r meistr mewn perthynas i’r degpunt cyflog. Arosasom felly, o ddydd i ddydd, ac o nos i nos, ac yntau y garddwr yn ein hysbysu mai cyndyn oedd y meistr i roddi’r swm a geisiai. |
The mansion stood at the foot of a mountain, about a hundred yards from the garden, and a narrow river separated them in rainy weather, rising past the top of the garden; but the bed of the river was dry on this occasion, due to the heat, and quite deep as well. So we went across the embankment down to the bottom, crouching on our haunches till we came in sight of the house and the farm, and climbed to the top of a wooded hill, so that no one could see us. There we stayed all day, talking and singing, till the sun set, when we returned to the garden, to learn how the matter of the ten pounds’ wages had gone between the gardener and the master. We continued to this day after day, and night after night, the gardener telling us the master stubbornly refused to give him the sum he sought. |
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Un noswaith wrth ddyfod o’r goedwig, clywem lais yr arolygwr yn ymddyddan â’r garddwr, ac ymguddiasom. Er fod y ddau yn agos at eu gilydd, a chanddynt eithaf clyw, gwaeddai y garddwr yn uchel wrth siarad, gael i ni gymmeryd rhybydd a sefyll draw. Deallem fod ein cyfaill yn blino ar yr ymddyddan, trwy y dywedai ar draws y cwbl, fwy nag unwaith, “Nos dda i chwi, syr.” |
One evening as we were coming back from the forest, we heard the overseer’s voice in conversation with the gardener, and we hid. Although the two were near each other, and both had keen hearing, the gardener was speaking very loudly, so as to warn us to keep away. We could tell our friend was tiring of the discussion, because he broke in more than once, saying, “Good night to you sir.” |
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Ar ol i ni fyw fel hyn o nos Wener hyd i’r nos Iau canlynol, boddlonodd y garddwr i gymmeryd a gawsai, yr hyn ydoedd saith bunt, allan o dair-punt-ar-ddeg. Cynnygiodd y meistr fenthyg ceffyl iddo i’w gludo i Mash ac yn ol, ond efe a wrthododd, gan ddywedyd y gallai gerdded yn burion. “Yn sicr, William,” ebe’r meistr, “gwell i chwi gymmeryd y ceffyl gwyn gyda chwi.” “Na, na,” ebe’r garddwr, “diolch i chwi am eich caredigrwydd, y mae’n well genyf gerdded;” a dywedodd y bwriadai ef gychwyn boreu dranoeth i’r pentref i brynu dillad. |
After we had been living like this from Friday night to the following Thursday night, the gardener gave in and took what he could get, which was seven pounds, out of thirteen. The master offered to lend him a horse to get him to Mash and back, but the gardener declined, saying he could walk just as well. “But William,” said the master, “it would be better for you to take the white horse with you.” “No, no,” replied the gardener, “thank you for your kindness, I’d prefer to walk;” and then he told the master he intended to leave the following morning for the village to buy clothes. |
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Ond yn lle ffyddlondeb i feistr tirion, siomwyd ef: canys, oddeutu unarddeg o’r gloch nos Iau, taflasom y mânus allan o wely’r garddwr, i’r diben o gael y lliain i gludo ein dillad, a chychwynasom am gloddfa aur Ballarat. Erbyn saith neu wyth o’r gloch, boreu Gwener, daethom at ddau neu dri o dai cyfagos i’w gilydd, ac yn un o honynt siop fechan: aeth yr ail îs-lywydd a Jack i mewn, at brynu bara ac ychydig ymenyn: ond gan nad oedd yno namyn bara caled, prynasant ddau neu dri phwys o hwnw, a hanner pwys o ymenyn, yng nghyda thyn bychan i ferwi dwfr at wneyd tê, yr hyn a gostiodd naw swllt. Yna, wedi casglu ychydig briciau, cyneu tân, a bwyta, ymneillduasom i’r goedwig i orwedd a gorphwys ychydig. |
But despite his faith, a gracious master was disappointed: because, about eleven o’clock on Thursday night, we pulled the chaff out of the gardener’s bed, to use the cloth for carrying our clothes, and set out for the Ballarat goldfields. By seven or eight o’clock on Friday morning we came to two or three houses close to each other, and found a small shop in one of them: the second mate and Jack went in, to buy bread and a little butter: but there was only hard-bread there, of which we bought two or three pounds, along with half a pound of butter, and a small tin to boil water for tea, which cost nine shillings. Then, after collecting a few bricks, lighting a fire, and eating, we took ourselves off to the forest to lie and rest a bit. |
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Tua deg o’r gloch, cychwynasom eilchwyl, a daethom cyn hir i un o’r prif-ffyrdd, yn arwain at gloddfeydd Ballarat: a gwelem yn ein cyfarfod bedrolfeni, yn cael eu tynnu gan fustych, a dynion o’u blaen yn dwyn gynnau yn eu dwylaw, gyda pharodrwydd i amddiffyn eu hunain, pe achos, oblegid dyfod yr oeddynt o’r cloddfeydd aur! At yr hwyr goddiweddasom gloddiwr a’i drol, ar ei daith o Melbourne i Ballarat, gydag ymborth i’w gydgloddwyr; a phan ddaethom at bwll dwfr, tynnodd ef ei geffyl o’r drol i aros yno noswaith, a thynnasom ninnau i’r goedwig, casglasom goed, a chyneuasom eirias dân iddo ef a’n hunain. Rhoddodd i ni bryd o gloron; a chyda hyny deuodd attom ychwaneg o gludwyr i wneyd eu trigfan dros y nos yn gyfagos attom, ar wastadedd, yng nghanol dyffryn. Yr oedd ganddynt hwy bedrolfeni, a deg o fustych yn tynnu pob un, i gludo ymborth o Melbourne i Ballarat. Y ffordd yn arwain attom oedd dra serth, a gwelem un hen wr yn ychwaneg, gyda’i bedrolfen lwythog o flawd, a nwyddau eraill, yn dyfod ar ei waered. Yr oedd hwn yn dechreu meddwl, ac eto yn gyrru’r bustych yn gampus a hardd, heb un chwip, trwy godi ei law i fyny a siarad yn fwynaidd wrthynt. Os âi un o fustych yr hen wr yn ddioglyd, gwnai yntau swn crïo, gan ddywedyd, “A wyt ti yn galw dy hun yn fustach?” Er yr ymddangosai dull yr hen wr yn lled ffol gyda’i fustych, mewn rhai pethau, eto teilyngach oedd ef o’i swydd na lluoedd; o herwydd fel y tystiai y rhai a’i hadwaenent, ni arferai ef chwip, na chwaith yr iaith reglyd a arferid gan y gyrwyr eraill trwy’r holl wlad. Tebygol fod yr unrhyw fustych dan ei ofal, er ys llawer o fisoedd, ac iddo gymmeryd llawer iawn o drafferth i’w dysgu, cyn y gallasai ef eu gyru mor hwylus a rheolaidd gyda’i ymadroddion, heb un math o fflangell: oblegid pan eu prynir y maent mor ystyfnig ag asynod, heb eu curo a’i rhegi, am nad ydynt byth yn cael eu harfer i glywed un iaith arall gan y rhai a’u gyrant. Cysgasom dan eu gwageni y noswaith hon, a chawsom huno yn dawel. |
About ten o’clock, we started out again, and before long came to one of the highways leading to the Ballarat goldfields: and here we saw approaching us some wagons, drawn by bullocks, and led by men carrying guns, ready to defend themselves if the need arose, as they were coming from the diggings! Towards evening we overtook a miner and his cart, on his way from Melbourne to Ballarat, with provisions for his fellow miners; when we came to a pool of water, he released his horse from the cart to stay the night there, and we took ourselves off to the forest, collected wood, and lit a big fire for the miner and ourselves. He gave us a meal of potatoes; and with that more carriers arrived to make camp for the night near us, on a level place in a valley. They had wagons, and ten bullocks to pull each one, taking provisions from Melbourne to Ballarat. The road leading to us was very steep, and we saw another man, an old man, coming down the slope, his wagon loaded with flour and other goods. He was getting drunk, but still driving the bullocks in splendid fashion, without a whip, by raising his hand and speaking gently to them. If one of the old man’s bullocks dawdled, he would make a crying sound, saying, “D’you call yourself a bullock?” The old man’s way with his bullocks appeared in some respects rather foolish, but he was more worthy of his station than many, because as those who knew him testified, he used neither a whip nor the foul language used by other drivers throughout the country. The same bullocks had likely been in his charge for many months, and he must have taken a great deal of trouble to train them before he could drive them so easily and in such good order by his speech, and without any kind of whip: because when they are first bought they are as stubborn as donkeys, unless they are struck and cursed, being unaccustomed to any other kind of language from those who drive them. The drivers slept under their wagons that night, and slept peacefully. |
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Boreu Sadwrn, wedi cyrchu’r bustych a’r ceffyl o’r goedwig, yn mlaen a ni yn fintai, ac yn hwyr, daethom at ychydig ddwfr drachefn; a thrigiasom yno hyd i foreu Sul, pryd y gadawsom y drol a’r pedrolfeni, gan gerdded yn bwyllog oddeutu naw neu ddeg o filltiroedd, fel, oddeutu dau o’r gloch y prydnawn y cyrhaeddasom i Ballarat. Yna, aeth un o honom i brynu’r bedwaredd ran o folltgig, yr ail i wneyd tân, a’r trydydd i geisio dwfr i wneyd tê, tra’r pedwerydd yn cynnorthwyo; gorweddasom y nos Sul hyny ar y ddaiar, rhwng canghenau coeden a dorwyd ryw dro i lawr, a dyna fel y cysgasom. |
On Saturday morning, after fetching the bullocks and horses from the forest, off we went in a body. In the evening we came to another small pool, and stopped there till Sunday morning, when we left the cart and the wagons, and walked at our leisure nine or ten miles, reaching Ballarat about two o’clock in the afternoon. There one of us went to buy a quarter of mutton, another to make a fire, a third to find water to make tea, while the fourth helped. We slept the night on the ground, between branches cut down from trees at some earlier time. |
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Boreu Llun, aeth dau o honom i chwilio am liain pabell, ail law, a’r ddau eraill i chwilio am bastynau i’w gynnal i fyny; ac wedi i ni eu cael, gosodasom ein pabell yn drefnus, a chasglasom ddail crinedig i’w taenu dros y llawr i orwedd arnynt. Yn yr hwyr, aeth yr ail îs-lywydd a Jack i brynu sached o flawd, tê, sugyr, a chostrelaid o frandi, tra’r garddwr a minnau yn gorwedd o fewn y babell; ac ar ol i’r ddau gydymaith ddychwelyd o’u neges, eisteddasom mewn trefn yn y babell, gwaghasom y gostrel, a chanodd Jack amryw o ganiadau i’n difyru, fel y treuliasom nos Lun, yn ein hanneddle newydd, yn dra chysurus a boddhäol i ni ein hunain. |
On Monday morning, two of us went to look for tent-cloth, second hand, and the other two for poles to hold it up; and once we had all that, we methodically put up our tent, and went about collecting withered leaves to lie on. Towards evening, the second mate and Jack went to buy sacks of tea and sugar, and bottles of brandy, while the gardener and myself rested in the tent; and after the two companions returned from their errand, we stood about the tent and emptied the bottle, while Jack sang some songs to entertain us; and so we spent Sunday night in our new residence, very comfortable and pleased with ourselves. |
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Boreu Mawrth, aethom i dwll a adawyd gan gloddwyr, a dechreuasom weithio ein hegni; ei ddyfnder oedd o chwech i saith droedfedd, a gorfu i ni fod agos i ddeuddydd yn ei baratôi, gan dynu allan y pridd a syrthiodd i mewn ar ol i’r rhai blaenorol ei adael. Ond ar y trydydd diwrnod, cawsom ychydig aur allan o’r hen dwll, ar un modd, allan o’r un llecyn, yn mhen ychydig ddyddiau drachefn, werth naw punt bob un. |
On Tuesday, we went to a hole left by miners, and began working for all we were worth; it was six or seven feet deep, and took us near two days to prepare it, taking out the earth that had fallen in since the previous diggers had left it. But on the third day, we got a little gold from the old hole, and again within a few days, from the same spot, nine pounds’ worth each time. |
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Gweithiasom fisoedd gyda’n gilydd yn y lle hwn, gan goginio bob yn ail wythnos. Ni chaid nemawr drafferth i barotoi y prydau bwyd, pan heb fod yn wlawogydd, a phob peth yn sych: canys yr oedd yno a fynem o goed i wneyd tanwydd, ac felly berwai unpeth yn fuan. Yr hen arddwr a arferai bobi bara, am rai misoedd wedi ein myned i gloddio, a ninnau yn ei frolio, gan ddywedyd ei fod yn dda odiaethol, rhag ein myned i bobi ein hunain. |
We worked together in that place for months, each taking our turn to cook for a week. It was little trouble to make the meals, when it was not raining, and everything was dry: because there was all the firewood we could wish for there, and we could quickly boil something. The old gardener baked bread for several months after we arrived on the goldfields, and the rest of us praised it, saying it was excellent, lest we had to bake it ourselves. |
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Gelwid y bara, “dampers;” a’i ddull ef yn ei wneyd, oedd dodi llonaid y ddysgl o flawd yn yr hon yr arferem i olchi’r aur, ac ychydig o “garbonet of soda,” math o wrthsur, rhwng ei fys a’i fawd, am ben y blawd, yn lle burym, a thylinai nerth ei freichiau: tra’r garddwr gyda’r dorth, byddem ninnau yn gofalu am boethi’r pobty yn ddigonol i’w derbyn; sef, gwnaem goelcerth mawr ar y ddaiar, y tu allan i’n pabell; a phan ddeuai’r garddwr, a’r dorth rhwng ei ddwylaw, gan waeddi, “Gwnewch ffordd rydd, fechgyn,” byddai un o honom a’i raw, yn symud y tân, a’r llall a’i gangen, yn ysgubo’r llawr, a thaflai’r garddwr y dorth ar y ddaiar boeth, tra ninnau ar ffrwst yn lluchio’r marwor tân drosti, fel, yn gyffredin, yr ystyrid y crasiad yn orgampus. |
The bread was called “dampers,” and his method of making it was to take a dish we used to wash the gold and fill it with flour, adding a pinch of “carbonate of soda,” a kind of alkali, in place of yeast, and then knead it vigorously. While the gardener dealt with the loaf, we would get the oven hot enough to receive it; that is, we made a big fire on the ground outside our tent; and when the gardener came with the loaf between his hands, crying, “Make way, boys,” one of us would stir the fire, another would sweep the floor with a branch, and the gardener would throw the loaf on the bare earth, where we would quickly cover it with ashes from the fire; and generally, the baking was judged very successful. |