The Ghost At The Second Bridge

You'd call the man a senseless fool,     A blockhead or an ass,     Whod dare to say he saw the ghost     Of Mount Victoria Pass;     But I believe the ghost is there,     For, if my eyes are right,     I saw it once upon a neer-     To-be-forgotten night.     Twas in the year of eighty-nine,     The day was nearly gone,     The stars were shining, and the moon     Is mentioned further on;     Id tramped as far as Hartley Vale,     Tho tired at the start,     But coming back I got a lift     In Johnny Joness cart.     Twas winter on the mountains then,     The air was rather chill,     And so we stopped beside the inn     That stands below the hill.     A fire was burning in the bar,     And Johnny thought a glass     Would give the tired horse a spell     And help us up the Pass.     Then Jimmy Bent came riding up,     A tidy chap was Jim,     He shouted twice, and so of course     We had to shout for him.     And when at last we said good-night     He bet a vulgar quid     That we would see the ghost in black,     And sure enough we did.     And as we climbed the stony pinch     Below the Camel Bridge,     We talked about the Girl in black     Who haunts the Second Bridge.     We reached the fence that guards the cliff     And passed the corner post,     And Johnny like a senseless fool     Kept harping on the ghost.     Shell cross the moonlit road in haste     And vanish down the track;     Her long black hair hangs to her waist     And she is dressed in black;     Her face is white, a dull dead white,     Her eyes are opened wide,     She never looks to left or right,     Or turns to either side.     I didnt blieve in ghosts at all,     Tho I was rather young,     But still I wished with all my heart     That Jack would hold his tongue.     The time and place, as you will say,     (Twas twelve oclock almost),     Were both historically fa-     Vourable for a ghost.     But have you seen the Second Bridge     Beneath the Camels Back?     It fills a gap that broke the ridge     When convicts made the track;     And oer the right old Hartley Vale     In homely beauty lies,     And oer the left the mighty walls     Of Mount Victoria rise.     And theres a spot above the bridge,     Just where the track is steep,     From which poor Convict Govett rode     To christen Govetts Leap;     And here a teamster killed his wife,     For those old days were rough,     And here a dozen others had     Been murdered, right enough.     The lonely moon was over all     And she was shining well,     At angles from the sandstone wall     The shifting moonbeams fell.     In short, the shifting moonbeams beamed,     The air was still as death,     Save when the listening silence seemed     To speak beneath its breath.     The tangled bushes were not stirred     Because there was no wind,     But now and then I thought I heard     A startling noise behind.     Then Johnny Jones began to quake;     His face was like the dead.     Dont look behind, for heavens sake!     The ghost is there! he said.     He stared ahead, his eyes were fixed;     He whipped the horse like mad.     You fool! I cried, youre only mixed;     A drop too much youve had.     Ill never see a ghost, I swear,     But I will find the cause.     I turned to see if it was there,     And sure enough it was!     Its look appeared to plead for aid     (As far as I could see),     Its hands were on the tailboard laid,     Its eyes were fixed on me.     The face, it cannot be denied     Was white, a dull dead white,     The great black eyes were opened wide     And glistened in the light.     I stared at Jack; he stared ahead     And madly plied the lash.     To show I wasnt scared, I said,     Why, Jack, weve made a mash.     I tried to laugh; twas vain to try.     The try was very lame;     And, tho I wouldnt show it, I     Was frightened, all the same.     Shes mashed, said Jack, I do not doubt,     But tis a lonely place;     And then you see it might turn out     A breach of promise case.     He flogged the horse until it jibbed     And stood as one resigned,     And then he struck the road and ran     And left the cart behind.     Now, Jack and I since infancy     Had shared our joys and cares,     And so I was resolved that we     Should share each others scares.     We raced each other all the way     And never slept that night,     And when we told the tale next day     They said that we were, intoxicated.