The abundance of fruits of all kinds affords one of the best proofs of the geniality of the climate. First come strawberries, followed by abundance of plums, peaches, and apricots, and afterwards by pears and apples in plenty. Our manager's garden at Maryborough is a sight worth seeing in summer time. Having a plentiful supply of water, he is able to bring his fruit to great perfection. The plum and peach trees seemed almost overburdened with their delicious loads. Through the centre of the garden is a cool green alley, shaded with a vine-covered trellis. The bunches of fast-ripening grapes are hanging on all sides, and promise an abundant crop.
Some of my pleasantest associations are connected with the January afternoons spent in the orchards about Majorca. One day a party of us drove out in search of a good fruit-garden. We went over the hill to the south, and down the long valley on the Talbot road, raising clouds of white dust as we went; then up another hill, from the summit of which, down by the banks of the creek, and almost close to the foot of Mount Greenock, we discovered the garden of which we had come in search. We descended and entered the garden, still covered with greenery, notwithstanding the tremendous heat, and there found the fruit in perfection.
Mount Greenock is one of the many volcanic hills which abound in this neighbourhood. It is almost aperfect cone, some eight or nine hundred feet high. "What a splendid prospect from the summit!" said one of my companions. "Well, let us go up—there will probably be a fine breeze on the top." "Too hot by far," was the answer. "Not at all," said I, "the thing is to be done." "Well," said my friend, "you may go if you like; but if you do, and are back in three-quarters of an hour, I'll undertake to shout fruits and drinks for the remainder of the afternoon."
A noble offer! So I immediately stripped, took one look at the steep hill above, the withered grass upon it almost glittering in the sun, and started. I was soon across the nearly-dry creek, and, beginning the ascent, I went on pretty steadily until I was within about two hundred feet of the summit, when the great heat began to tell upon me. I stopped, looked down the steep hill up which I had come, saw what a little way further comparatively I had to go, and clambered upward again. It was still a long and fatiguing pull, mostly over loose lava stones; but at last I reached the top, panting and out of breath. After such a tremendous pull as that, I do not think any one will venture to say that my lungs can be unsound.
I looked round at the magnificent view. It was indeed well worth climbing the hill to see. I first turned my eyes northward towards Majorca. There it was, with its white streak of pipeclay above it. Beyond, in the distance, lay Carisbrook, with the bald hill standing out in bold relief behind it. Nearer at hand are the mining works of several companies, with theirengine-sheds surrounded by huge piles of refuse. Turning my eyes southward, I saw Talbot, about a mile off, looking quite an important place, with its numerous red-brick buildings and clusters of comfortable-looking houses. On the west, towards Maryborough, lay a wide extent of bush, clad in its never varying dark green verdure. The sky was clear, blue, and cloudless; and though the sun was in all his strength, the light breeze that played round the top of the mount made the air pleasant and exhilarating to breathe.
I shortly turned my steps down-hill, tacking and zigzagging in the descent because of the steepness. I was soon at the foot of the mount, across the brook, and seated in the garden, enjoying the fresh fruit, with an occasional draught of colonial wine.
Apropos of wine and grapes. It is anticipated by those who have had the longest experience of the climate and soil of Victoria, that it is not unlikely before long to become one of the principal wine-growing countries in the world. The vine grows luxuriantly, and the fruit reaches perfection in all parts of the colony, but more particularly in the fine district situated along the River Murray. Most of the farmers up country make their own wines for home use. It is a rough, wholesome sort of claret. But when the Germans, who are well accustomed to the culture of the vine, give the subject their attention, a much finer quality is produced. There are already several vineyard associations at work, who expect before long to export largely to England, though at present thegreater part of the wine grown is consumed in the colony. A friend of mine at Melbourne has planted an extensive vineyard at Sunbury, some thirty miles north of the city, cultivated by Swiss vignerons; and, though I am no judge of wine, the Burgundy which I tasted at his table was very grateful to my inexperienced palate, and I was told that it was of very superior quality.[9]
After summer comes harvest, when the farmer gathers in the produce of his year's industry, takes stock, and counts his gains. Harvest is well over by the end of February. When I rode out to Perry's Farm, on the second day of March, I found the fields already cleared, and the grain housed. All the extra hands had gone. Only a week before, the fields had been busy with reapers, binders, and machine-men, for whom enormous meat pies had to be cooked and great joints of meat roasted,—for labouring men in Australia are accustomed to consume much larger quantities of flesh meat than at home.
The scene is now perfectly quiet. The cows are coming in to be milked, and a very fine lot they are—fifteen or more. The great stacks of straw are shining in the red sunlight, for the sun is getting low, though it is still warm. We go up to the farmhouse, having hung our horses' reins over the rail, and saunter inthrough the back door. Here no handing in of cards is required, for we know we are sure of being made welcome; and in Australia hospitality is boundless. We taste the grapes, which are just ripe, and wash them down with a glass of home-brewed mead. But beware of that mead! Though it looks very innocent, it is really very strong and heady.
The farmer then took us into his barn, and proudly pointed with his heavy whip to the golden grain piled up on the floor; then over his stable, to look at his horses. There we found our own nags, which had been taken in for a feed. Bringing them out, and mounting again, we rode on a little further to another farm situated on a hill-side a little higher up the valley.
The farmhouse here is a little gem of a dwelling, situated in a nice shady place, in the midst of a luxurious garden. Here, too, we dismounted and entered the house, for we knew the host—a most genial fellow, whose honest English face it was always a pleasure to see: it was so full of kindness and good humour. We took a stroll round the garden while the sun was setting, and then turned in for a cup of good tea, which "missus" had got ready for us.
One of our entertainer's greatest delights was in talking about "old times"—though they were only a year or two old after all,—yet "new chums" were always ready to sit listening to his tales open-mouthed. He had been a digger, like most of the farmers hereabout, and he told us how he was the first to find the gold at the great rush at Maryborough; how he saw the goldglistening in the gravel one day that he was out in the bush; how, for weeks, he lived quietly, but digging and gathering gold early and late, until, having made his little golden harvest, enough to buy and stock a farm, he went and gave information to the commissioner as to the find, and then what a rush of thousands of diggers there was to the ground! how streets sprang up, stores were opened, hotels were built, and at last Maryborough became the great place that it is—the thriving centre of a large mining as well as agricultural district.
In such old diggers' talk two hours had passed almost before we were aware; and then we rose to go. The horses were brought out, and we mounted and rode cautiously home, for it was now quite dark. It was a fine mild night, and we had plenty of time; so we talked and laughed our way through the bush—our voices the only sounds to be heard, except it might be the noise of a bird rising on the wing, startled from its perch by our merry laughter or the clatter of our horses' hoofs on the hard ground as we trotted along.
Another day, I drove out with one of the neighbouring farmers to his place on the other side of the Deep Creek. At this late season the bush is dried up and melancholy-looking; very different from what it is in the lovely spring time. Now the bush seems dead-alive, fast putting on its winter garb, while withered stalks of grass cover the plains. We pass the neighbourhood of a large squatter's station, the only one about here,—the run being very large, extending for a great distance over the plains. It consists of not lessthan 60,000 acres of purchased land and 60,000 acres of government land, on which the squatter exercises the usual rights of pasturage.
Crossing the creek by a wooden bridge, we were shortly at my friend's farm. We heard the buzzing noise of the threshing-machine in the adjoining fields. There was the engine busily at work, just as at home. Steam penetrates everywhere,—across the seas, over the mountains, and into the bush. We soon came up to the engine, where the men were at work. It was pretty severe under a hot sun, amidst clouds of dust and bits of chaff flying about from the thresher. Many of the men wore spectacles to protect their eyes from the glare of the sun's heat.
The engine was just about to stop, to allow the men to have their midday spell of rest; and they were soon at their meal of meat and cold tea. The farmer came upon some of the men smoking quite unconcernedly beside the great piles of straw; and wroth he was at their carelessness, as well he might be, for had a fire burst out, it would have destroyed straw, wheat, engine, and all. The wheat seemed of excellent quality, and the farmer was quite pleased with his crop, which is not always the case with farmers.
We afterwards went over the farm buildings, which are neat and substantial. A large stone barn has at one end of it a kitchen attached, where the men's victuals are cooked during harvest time; and, close at hand, is a comfortable stone cottage for the accommodation of the manager and his family.
After going over the farm, I had a refreshing bathe in the creek, at a convenient place; though I have heard that it is not unusual for bathers who get into a muddy water-hole to be startled by a sudden sting, and when they emerge from the water, to find half a dozen hungry leeches hanging on to their skin. For leeches are plentiful in Australia, and even form an article of considerable export to England.
We afterwards went out to Perry's harvest dance and supper, with which the gathering in of the crops is usually celebrated, as at home. The wheat had by this time all been sold and cleared out of the barn, and it was now rigged up as a ball-room. We had a good long spell of dancing, to the music of a violin and a bush piano. Perhaps you don't know what a bush piano is? It consists of a number of strings arranged on a board, tightened up and tuned, upon which the player beats with a padded hammer, bringing out sounds by no means unmusical. At all events, the bush piano served to eke out the music of our solitary violin.
After the dance there was the usual bounteous supper, with plenty to eat and drink for all; and then our horses were brought out and we rode homeward. It was the end of harvest, just the time of the year when, though the days were still warm, the nights were beginning to be cool and sharp, as they are about the beginning of October in England. One night there was a most splendid Aurora, one of the finest, it is said, that had been seen, even in Australia. Ahuge rose-coloured curtain seemed to be let down across half the sky, striped with bright golden colour, shaded off with a deeper yellow. Beneath the red curtain, close to the horizon, was a small semicircle of bright greenish yellow, just as if the sun were about to rise; and bright gleams of light shot up from it far into the sky, making the rose-coloured clouds glow again. The brilliancy extended upwards almost to the zenith, the stars glimmering through the darker or less bright part of the sky. Though I have mentioned "clouds," there was not a cloud to be seen; the clouds I name were really masses of brilliant light, obscuring the deep blue beyond. I feel the utter powerlessness of words to describe the magnificence of the scene.
The weather-wise people predicted a change of weather; and sure enough a change shortly followed. We had had no rain for weeks; but early on the second morning after the appearance of the Aurora, I was awakened by the noise of heavy rain falling upon our slight iron roof. I found a tremendous storm raging and the rain falling in masses. Our large iron tank was completely filled in half an hour; and, overflowing, it ran in upon our bank floor and nearly flooded us out. We had an exciting time of it, baling out the water as fast as it ran in; for somehow, the drain running underneath our boarded house had got stopped. At last the rainfall ceased and the water was got rid of, leaving everything in a state of damp—damp stools and chairs, damp sheets, damp clothes, damp books, damp paper, damp everything.
FOOTNOTES:[9]The kinds of wine principally produced in the colony are Burgundy, Claret, white wine of the Sauterne kind, and a very excellent sort of still Champagne. There are now regular autumn wine sales at Melbourne and Geelong, at which large quantities are sold and good prices realised. The total quantity produced in 1870 was 629,219 gallons.
[9]The kinds of wine principally produced in the colony are Burgundy, Claret, white wine of the Sauterne kind, and a very excellent sort of still Champagne. There are now regular autumn wine sales at Melbourne and Geelong, at which large quantities are sold and good prices realised. The total quantity produced in 1870 was 629,219 gallons.
[9]The kinds of wine principally produced in the colony are Burgundy, Claret, white wine of the Sauterne kind, and a very excellent sort of still Champagne. There are now regular autumn wine sales at Melbourne and Geelong, at which large quantities are sold and good prices realised. The total quantity produced in 1870 was 629,219 gallons.
The 'Possum—A Night's Sport in the Bush—Musquitoes—Wattle Birds—The Piping-Crow—"Miners"—Paroquet-hunting—The Southern Cross—Snakes—Marsupial Animals.
A favourite sport in Australia is 'possum-shooting. The Australian opossum is a marsupial quadruped, living in trees and feeding on insects, eggs, and fruits. Its body is about twenty-five inches in length, besides which it has a long prehensile tail, with which it clings to the branches of the trees in which it lives. Its skin is covered with thick fur, of a uniform smoky-black colour, tinged with chestnut, and it is very much sought after because of its warmth and beauty.
The proper time for 'possum-shooting is at night, when the moon is nearly at her full, and one can see about almost as well as in the daytime. Even Venus is so bright that, on a night when the moon was absent, I have seen her give light enough to drive by.
A well-trained dog is almost indispensable for scenting the 'possums and tracking them to their tree, beneath which he stands and gives tongue. When the dog stands and barks, you may be sure there is the "'possum up a gum-tree." I never had the good fortune to beaccompanied by a well-trained dog; but only by young ones new to the sport.
We had, therefore, to find and sight our own game. This is done by looking carefully along each branch, with the tree between you and the bright moonlight; and if there be a 'possum there, you will see a little black furry-like ball, motionless in the fork of a limb. On the first night that I went out 'possum-shooting with a party of friends, we trudged a good way into the bush, and searched the trees for a long time in vain.
At length the old colonial who accompanied us, coming up to a large tree, said, "Ah! here is a likely place;" and we began carefully to spy the branches; "There he is," said the colonial, pointing to a limb where he said the 'possum was. At first I could make out nothing. But at last I spied the little round ball. He fired, and the animal fell to the ground dead.
A little further on we searched again and found another. Now it was my turn. I took steady aim at the black object between me and the moon, and fired. Looking through the smoke, I saw Joey hanging on to the branch by his tail; and in half a minute more he dropped to the ground. I found that this was one of the ring-tailed species, the top of the tail being bare for about two inches, and formed like a white ring. 'Possums of this sort use their tails for climbing, like the spider-monkey of Africa. I found I could carry my ring-tailer hanging on to my finger, even after he was quite dead.
The next 'possum fell wounded from the tree, andtook to his heels, with the little dogs after him; and they settled him after a short fight. Sometimes the 'possum, after being hit, will cling a long time to the tree by his tail, with his body hanging down. Then the best and lightest climber goes up to shake him down, and he soon drops among the dogs, which are all excitement and ready to fall upon him. Occasionally he will give them a good run, and then the object is to prevent him getting up another tree.
Proceeding on our search, we found ourselves on some low swampy ground, where there were said to be abundance of 'possums. But I had no sooner entered the swamp than I was covered with musquitoes of the most ravenous character. They rose from the ground in thousands, and fastened on my "new chum" skin, from which the odour of the lime-juice had not yet departed;[10]and in a few minutes I was literally in torment, and in full retreat out of the swamp. Not even the prospect of a full bag of 'possums would tempt me again in that direction.
In all, we got seven 'possums, which is considered a very small bag. There is a practised sportsman in the town who goes out with a well-trained dog, accompanied by a horse and cart; and he is disappointed if he does not bring home quite a cart-load of fur.
When we had got done with our sport, and resolvedon wending our way homewards, I had not the faintest idea where we were, or of the direction in which we were to proceed. Of course, near the town there are plenty of tracks, but here there were none; and there is such a complete sameness in the bush that I wondered that even my experienced friend should be able to guide us back. But he had no difficulty in finding the way, and we were soon tramping steadily along under the bright moonlight, the straggling gum-trees looking more gaunt and unshapely than usual,—the dry twigs crackling under our feet; and we reached the township long after midnight.
On another occasion I accompanied the Maryborough doctor into the bush to shoot wattle birds for a pie; but we did not succeed in getting a pieful. I have an idea that the gay-coloured dress of a young lady who accompanied us frightened the birds away. There were plenty of birds about, but very few of the sort we wanted—a bird as large as a pigeon, plump and tender to eat. The doctor drove us in and out among the trees, and had once nearly turned us all perforce out of the buggy, having got his wheels locked in the stump of a tree.
The speckled honey-suckers, yellow and black, chirped and gabbled up among the trees. The leather-heads, with their bare neck and ruffle of white feathers, almost like so many vultures in miniature, gave out their loud and sudden croak; then lazily flapped their wings and flew away to the next tree. Suddenly there is heard the single cry of the bell-bird, just like theringing of a glass bell; while far off in the bush you could hear the note of the Australian magpie or piping-crow, not unlike that of a silver flute, clear, soft, and musical. The piping-crow is, indeed, a clever bird, imitating with wonderful accuracy the cries of other birds; and when tamed it is exceedingly amusing, readily learning to whistle tunes, which it does extremely well.
Another day, I went out shooting with the Presbyterian minister, an enthusiastic taxidermist, now occupied in making a very nice collection of Australian birds. We had a gay time of it in the bush that day. There were plenty of grey and black mina-birds, or "miners," as they are called here, chattering away in the trees in groups of four or five. They are a species of grakle, and are lively and intelligent birds, some of them possessing a power of imitating human speech equal to any of the parrot tribe. They are very peculiar looking, grey in the body, with a black dab on the head, and a large bright yellow wattle just behind the eye. We pass the "miners" unmolested, for the minister tells me they are "no good" if you want eating, whilst as specimens they are too common.
Then there are the tiny grey wrens, sitting about in scores,—so small that an English wren looks monstrous beside them. Across the sunlight, and away over a hollow, there flies a flock of green and yellow paroquets, screaming as they fly. The brilliant colours of their wings flash and glitter as they come from under the shadow of the trees. Now we stalk a solitarypiping-crow from tree to tree; but no sooner do you get near enough to take a pot shot at him than he pipes his note, and is off. The only way of getting at him is to proceed cautiously from bush to bush; but even then, so shy a bird is he, that it is very difficult to bag him.
There is a flock of great white sulphur-crested cockatoos clustered up in a high tree. Can we get a shot? They seem to anticipate our design, for on the moment they rise and wheel overhead with elevated crests, uttering their shrill hoarse cries. These are the fellows that occasion our farmers so much trouble by eating the freshly-sown grain.
Then look! on that branch are twenty or thirty lovely little swift paroquets, with green and dark blue wings tipped with yellow. They are climbing in and out of the scant leafage, under and over the limbs of the tree, hanging on by their claws; and they only rise if they see us near enough to take a shot at them, when they take to wing screaming, and fly away in a flock.
Once, when I had gone out parrot-potting, with another young fellow almost as green as myself, we had very nearly got bushed. We had been following up a flock of Blue Mountain parrots—handsome birds—of which we wanted specimens for our collection. After some slight success, we turned our way homewards. The sun was just setting. Marking its position in the heavens, we took what we thought was the right direction. There were no tracks to guide us—nolandmarks—nothing but bush. After walking for some time, and looking again at the light of the sky where the sun had gone down, we found that we had made a circuit upon our track, and were walking exactly in the opposite direction to our township. We hastily retraced our steps, for we knew that it would soon be dark, as the twilight is so short in Australia. Fortunately for us, it was a very clear night, and as the stars came brightly out we saw before us the Southern Cross high up on our left, which guided us on our way. Had it been a cloudy night, most probably we should have had to spend it in the bush; but, thanks to the Southern Cross and good legs, we at length, though late, reached our township in safety.
There are sometimes snakes met with in the bush, though I saw but few of them, and these are always ready to get out of your way. The largest fellow I saw was drawn out from under the flooring of a weather-boarded hut on the hill-side above Majorca. I was coming down early one morning from the school-house, when I stopped at the hut to speak with the occupant. It is a very tidy little place, divided into two rooms—parlour and bedroom. The parlour was pasted all over with cheap prints reminding one of home, mostly taken from 'Punch' and the 'Illustrated London News.' Photographs of old friends were also hung over the mantel-shelf. The floor was neat and clean; the little pot was simmering over the little fire, and all was getting ready for breakfast. A very pleasant picture of a thriving emigrant's home.
As I was standing outside, about to take my leave, casting my eyes on the ground, I saw beneath the bench close to the door a long brownish-grey thing lying quite still. I at once saw that it was a snake, and snatched up a billet of wood to make a blow at him; but my friend, who had more experience in such matters, held me back. "Just wait a moment," said he, "and let me get hold of him." Quick as thought he stooped down, seized firm hold of the snake by the tail, and, whirling him rapidly round his head three or four times, he dashed him against the boards of the hut and let him drop, crushing the reptile's head with his boot-heel. The snake was four feet six inches in length, and said to be of a very poisonous sort.
Snakes are much more common in the less cleared parts of the colony, and fatal snake-bites are not infrequent. The most successful method of treatment is that invented by Dr. Halford, of Melbourne, which consists in injecting a solution of ammonia into a vein dissected out and opened for the purpose. This is said at once and almost completely to destroy the effects of the poison. Since my return home I observe that Dr. Halford has been publicly rewarded for his discovery.
Kangaroo-hunting is one of the great sports of Victoria, but it was not my fortune to see a hunt of this sort. There are now very few, if any, kangaroo in this immediate neighbourhood.[11]Yet there is no lack of marsupialanimals of the same character: the opossum is one of these. There is also a small kind of kangaroo, called the wallaby, which, though I have not hunted, I have eaten. And wallaby stew is by no means a bad dish: the flesh tastes very much like venison. Indeed, the marsupial animals of Australia are of almost endless variety, ranging from a very tiny animal, no bigger than our field-mouse, to the great old-man kangaroo, which measures between seven and eight feet from the nose to the tip of the tail. The peculiarity of all this class of animals, from the smallest to the largest, is the marsupium, or pouch, in which the females carry their immature young until they are old enough to shift for themselves. The kangaroo is almost confined to Australia, though several species are also to be met with in the neighbouring islands.
FOOTNOTES:[10]It is said in the colony that the musquitoes scent out each "new chum," or fresh importation, by the lime-juice he has taken on board ship; and that, being partial to fresh blood, they attack the "new chums" in preference to the seasoned inhabitants.[11]There is a Hunt Club at Avoca, that hunts kangaroo. The animals abound north of the Murray River; and some parts of the unsettled country in Gipps Land still swarm with them.
[10]It is said in the colony that the musquitoes scent out each "new chum," or fresh importation, by the lime-juice he has taken on board ship; and that, being partial to fresh blood, they attack the "new chums" in preference to the seasoned inhabitants.
[10]It is said in the colony that the musquitoes scent out each "new chum," or fresh importation, by the lime-juice he has taken on board ship; and that, being partial to fresh blood, they attack the "new chums" in preference to the seasoned inhabitants.
[11]There is a Hunt Club at Avoca, that hunts kangaroo. The animals abound north of the Murray River; and some parts of the unsettled country in Gipps Land still swarm with them.
[11]There is a Hunt Club at Avoca, that hunts kangaroo. The animals abound north of the Murray River; and some parts of the unsettled country in Gipps Land still swarm with them.
How the Gold is Found—Gold-washing—Quartz-crushing—Buying Gold from Chinamen—Alluvial Companies—Broken-down Men—Ups and Downs in Gold-mining—Visit to a Gold Mine—Gold-seeking—Diggers' Tales of lucky Finds.
I must now be excused if I talk a little "shop." Though my descriptions hitherto have, for the most part, related to up-country life, seasons, amusements, and such like, my principal concern, while living in Majorca, was with bank business and gold-buying. The ordinary business of a banking office is tolerably well known, but the business of gold-buying is a comparatively new feature, peculiar to the gold-producing districts, and is, therefore, worthy of a short description.
The gold is found and brought to us in various forms. The Majorca gold is generally alluvial, consisting of coarse gold-dust and small nuggets washed out from the gravel. There are also some quartz reef mining companies, whose gold is bought in what we call a retorted state. Let me explain. The quartz containing the gold is stamped and broken up by heavyiron hammers falling upon it; and a stream of water constantly running down into the box in which the stampers work, the soluble dirt is washed away, while the particles of quartz and gold are carried forward over boards, in which, at intervals, are small ripples containing quicksilver. The quicksilver clings to the gold and forms an amalgam with it. This is collected, taken out, and squeezed in bags of chamois leather,—by which the greater part of the quicksilver is pressed out and saved for a repetition of the process. The residue is placed in a retort, and exposed to heat, by which the remainder of the quicksilver is driven off by evaporation, leaving the gold in a solid lump. There are, however, various other processes by which the gold is separated from the quartz.
Sometimes the gold is offered for sale in a very imperfectly separated state, and then considerable judgment is required in deciding as to its value. In alluvial gold there is always a certain proportion of chips of iron, which have flown from the picks used in striking and turning up the gravel. These pieces of iron are carefully extracted by means of a magnet. The larger bits of gold, if there be any, are then taken out and put to one side. The remainder is put into a shallow tin dish, which is shaken with a peculiar turn of the wrist, and all the sand and dirt thus turned to the point of the dish. This is blown off; then up goes the gold again, and you blow and blow until all the sand is blown off. If there remain any gold with quartz still adhering to it, the particles are put into a big ironmortar and well beaten, and the process above described is repeated. The gold is then ready for weighing and buying, and there is usually no difficulty in settling the price with English diggers, the price varying according to the assay of the gold.[12]
Our great difficulty is with the Chinamen, who are very close-fisted fellows. They mostly work at sludge, which Englishmen have already washed; and they are found hanging on to the tailings of old workings, washing the refuse in order to extract the gold that had been missed. Old tailings are often thus washed several times over, and never without finding gold to a greater or less amount. When a party of Chinamen think they can do better elsewhere, they may be seen moving off, carrying their whole mining apparatus on their backs, consisting of tubs, blankets, tin scoops, and a small washing-cradle.
The Chinamen get their gold in a very rude way, though it seems to answer their purpose. They put the stuff to be washed on to their cradle, and by scooping water over it and keeping the cradle going they gradually rinse it away, the fluid running over two or three ledges of blankets, and leaving the fine gold remaining behind adhering to the wool. After the process has been continued sufficiently long, the gold-dust is collected from the blankets, and is retorted bythe Chinamen themselves, and then they bring it for sale. The retorting has usually been badly done, and there remains a good deal of quicksilver and nitric acid adhering to the gold. The only way of dealing with it is to put the whole into a crucible, then make it red hot, and keep the gold at the melting-point for five or ten minutes.
As we have got no furnace of our own on the premises, I have frequently to march up the street to the blacksmith's shop, to put John Chinaman's gold to the test. If John is allowed to go by himself, he merely waits till the gold gets warm, takes it out again, and brings it back, saying, "All light; welly good, welly good gole; no gammon." But you should see John when I go up to the blacksmith's myself, put the crucible into the hottest part of the fire, and begin to blow the bellows! When the gold begins to glow with heat, and he knows the weight is diminishing by the quicksilver and dirt that are flying off, he cries, "Welly hot! too muchee fire; me losem too muchee money!" But the thing must be done, and John must take the choice of his dirty gold or the regular price for it when cleaned. I have known it lose, by this process of purifying, as much as from five to six pennyweights in the ounce.
Sometimes he will bring only a few shillings' worth, and, when the money is tendered for it, he will turn it over in his hand, like a London cabman when his regular fare is given him. One man, who almost invariably brought only a very small quantity, would beginhis conversation with, "No more money now—no more chow-chow (dinner)—no more opium!" Sometimes matters come to a climax, and he tells us that we "too much lie and cheatem;" on which we send him out at the door.
The lower orders of Chinamen are almost invariably suspicious that Englishmen cheat them, although some of them are very decent fellows, and, indeed, kind and even polite. Several times I have asked them how they were going to spend the money for which they had sold their gold—say five shillings; and they would answer, ingenuously enough, "Two shillings for opium, three shillings for chow-chow;" leaving no margin for sundries.
We buy from the Chinamen as little as three shillings' worth of gold, and from the mining companies up to any amount. Some of the latter bring in hundreds of pounds' worth of gold at a time. The quartz companies bring theirs in large yellow lumps, of over 200 ounces, fresh from the retort; and the alluvial companies generally deposit theirs in leather bags containing their washings, until the end of the week or fortnight, when they sell the accumulated product.
There is, of course, a good deal of excitement and anxiety about gold-digging. When men get into good gold-yielding ground, by steady work they contrive to make fair earnings, and sometimes a good deal of money; but they have usually to work pretty hard for it. Of course, the most successful men are working miners, men who understand the business; for gold-miningis a business, like any other. The amateur men, who come in search of lucky finds and sudden fortunes, rarely do any good. Nearly all the young fellows, sons of gentlemen, who could do no good at home and came out here during the "rushes," are still in no better position than they were at starting. A few of them may have done well; but the greater number are bullock-drivers in the country, cab-drivers in Melbourne, shepherds in the bush, or, still worse, loafers hanging about the drinking-bars.
I know many men, of good family and education, still working as common miners in this neighbourhood. Although their life is a rough one, they themselves think it is better than a struggling clerk's life at home; and perhaps they are right. I know one young man, formerly a medical student in England, digging for weekly wages, hired by a company of miners at 2l.10s.a week; but he is not saving money. He came out with two cousins, one of whom broke away and pursued his profession; he is now the head of a military hospital in India. The other cousin remained in the colony, and is now a hanger-on about up-country stations. There is also the son of a baronet here, who came out in the time of the gold-fever. He has never advanced a step, but is wood-cutting and rail-splitting in the bush, like a poor Savoyard. Still the traces of his education can be seen through the "jumper" shirt and moleskin trousers, in spite of rough ways and hard work.
There are many ups and downs in gold-mining.Sometimes men will work long and perseveringly, and earn little more than their food; but, buoyed up by hope, they determine to go on again, and at last, perhaps, they succeed. One day two men came into the bank with 120l.worth of gold, the proceeds of four days' mining on a new claim. They had been working for a long time without finding anything worth their while, and at last they struck gold. The 120l.had to be divided amongst six men, and out of it they had to pay towards the cost of sinking their shaft and maintaining their three horses which worked the "whip" for drawing up the water and dirt out of the mine. When they brought in their gold in a little tin billy, the men did not seem at all elated by their good fortune. They are so accustomed to a sudden turn of luck—good or ill, as the case may be—that the good fortune on this occasion seemed to be taken as a matter of course.
One day, the manager and I went out to see a reef where some men had struck gold. It lay across the bare-looking ranges at the north of the township, in a pretty part of the bush, rather more wooded than usual. The reef did not look a place for so much gold to come out of. There were a couple of shafts, small windlasses above them, and two or three heaps of dirty-looking brown quartz and refuse. I believe the reef is very narrow—only from eight inches to a foot in width; the quartz yielding from eight to twelve ounces of gold per ton. Thus, ten tons crushed would give a value of about 400l.Though this mayseem a good yield, it is small compared with richer quartz. I have heard of one mine which gave 200 ounces, or 800l., to the ton of quartz crushed, but this was unusually rich.
At some of the larger claims the works are carried on upon a large scale with the aid of complete machinery. Let me describe one of the mines, close to Majorca, down which I went one day to inspect the operations. It is called the Lowe Kong Meng mine, and was formerly worked by Chinamen, but had to be abandoned because of the great quantity of water encountered, as well as the accidents which constantly happened to the machinery. The claim was then taken up by an English company of Tributors, who pay a percentage of the proceeds of the mine to the proprietor, the large Chinese merchant, Mr. Lowe Kong Meng, who resides in Melbourne.
In some of the shallower workings the men go down the shaft with their feet in a noose at the end of the rope; or, in some small and narrow shafts, by holding on to the sides with their knees and feet. But in large workings, such as this (which is about 150 feet deep), we descend in a bucket, as in ordinary mines. What a speed we go down at! We seem to shoot down into darkness. There—bump! we are at the bottom. But I can see nothing; I only hear the drip, drip, and splashing of water.
In a few minutes my eyes get accustomed to the darkness: then I see the dim light of a candle held by some one not far off. "Come up here," says the guide;and we shortly find ourselves in a somewhat open space, more light than the actual bottom of the shaft. We are each supplied with a dip tallow candle, by means of which we see where we are. The two drives branch off from this space: the main is 6 feet 3 inches in height, broad, and splendidly timbered with stout wood all the way along. The Chinamen did this work.
Water is running everywhere. We try to walk upon the rails on which the trucks run, to keep our feet dry. But it is of no use, as there is more water in our way to get through. Every now and then we slipped off the rail and down into the water. As we got into the narrower and lower drives I was continually coming to grief, my head bumping against the dirty top, my hat coming off, or my candle getting extinguished.
We were taken first up to the place where the water had broken in so heavily upon the Chinamen, and in which direction the mine could not be worked. Strong supports of wood held up the gravel, through which the water poured in, running down the drives of the well underneath the shaft. What a labyrinth all these different passages seemed to me! yet I suppose this claim is a small one compared with many others in the gold-mining districts.
Then we were shown a monkey—not the animal, but a small upright shaft leading into a drive above, where the wash-dirt was being got out. Should the course of the wash-dirt, in which the gold is, go downward below the level of the well or the drives fordraining the mine, the shaft must then be sunk deeper down. The monkey was rather difficult for me to scramble up. However, by holding on, and using the niches at the sides, I managed to mount, as usual with the loss of my light.
Along the drive we went, waiting in a corner until a truck of dirt passed by, and its contents were shot down the monkey into the tram waiting for it below. Now we creep up from the drive into a narrower space, where we crawl along upon our hands and knees. We shortly came upon four men getting out the wash-dirt, using their picks while squatting or lying down, and in all sorts of uncomfortable positions. The perspiration was steaming down the men's faces as they worked, for the heat was very great.
We did not stay long in that hot place, and I didnottake a pick and happen to strike upon a nugget, as it is said the Duke of Edinburgh did, though I saw a small dish of the dirt washed when we reached the top, and it yielded a speck or two. We saw "the colour," as the expression is. I felt quite relieved at last to find myself at the top of the shaft, and in the coolness and freshness of the open air. Here the dirt raised from the mine is put into the iron puddling-machine, and worked round and round with water. The water carries off the mud, the large stones are picked out, and the gold in the bottom of the machine is cradled off. Such was my little experience in mine-prospecting.
I must also tell of my still smaller experience ingold-seeking. One morning a little boy brought in a nugget for sale, which he had picked up from a heap of dirt, while he was strolling down the lead outside the town. After a heavy washing fall of rain, it is not unusual for small bits of gold to be exposed to sight; and old diggers often take a ramble amongst the mullock after rain, to make a search amongst the heaps. A piece of gold was once brought to us for sale, weighing about two ounces, that had been thus washed up by a heavy shower of rain. Inspired by the success of the little boy, I went out in the afternoon in a pair of thick boots, and with a pair of sharp eyes, to search for treasure! It had been raining hard for several days, and it was a good time for making an inspection of the old washed-out dirt-heaps. After a long search I found only one speck of gold, of the value of about 4d.This I was showing with pride to a young lady friend, who, being playfully inclined, gave my hand a shake, and my microscopical speck was gone, the first and last fruits of my gold-seeking.
Some of the tales told by the old diggers of their luck in the early days of gold-finding are very interesting. One of these I can relate almost in the very words of the man himself to whom the incident occurred; and it was only an ordinary digger's tale.
"My mates and I," he said, "were camped in a gully with some forty or fifty other miners. It was a little quiet place, a long way from any township. We had been working some shallow ground; but as the wash-dirt when reached only yielded about three-quartersof a pennyweight (about 3s.) to the dish, we got sick of it, left our claim, and went to take up another not far off. About a day or two after we had settled upon our new ground an old acquaintance of mine looked in upon us by chance. He was hard up—very hard up—and wanted to know whether we could give him anything to do. 'Well, there is our old place up there,' said I, 'it is not much good, but you can find enough to keep body and soul together.' So he went up to our old place, and kept himself in tucker. A few days after he had been at work, he found that the further down he dug in one direction the more gold the soil yielded. At one end of the ground a reef cropped up, shelving inwards very much. He quickly saw that against the reef, towards which the gold-yielding gravel lay, the ground sloping downwards towards the bottom must be still richer. He got excited, threw aside the gravel with his shovel, to come at the real treasure he expected to find. Down he went, till he reached the slope of the reef, where the gravel lay up against it. There, in the corner of the ground, right in the angle of the juncture, as it were, lay the rich glistening gold, all in pure particles, mixed with earth and pebbles. He filled his tin dish with the precious mixture, bore it aloft, and brought it down to our tent, where, aided by the mates, he washed off the dirt, and obtained as the product of his various washings about 1000 ounces of pure gold! The diggers who were camped about in the gully being a rough lot, we were afraid to let them know anythingof the prize that had been found. So, without saying anything, two of us, late one night, set out with the lucky man and his fortune to the nearest township, where he sold his gold and set out immediately for England, where, I believe, he is now. He left us the remainder of his dirt, which he did not think anything of, compared with what he had got; and three of us obtained from it the value of 600l., or 200l.a man."
The same digger at another time related to us how and when he had found his first nugget. He declared that it was all through a dream, "I dreamt," he said, "that I sunk a shaft down by the side of a pretty creek, just under a gum-tree, and close to the water; that I worked down about ten feet there, put in a drive, and, whilst I was working, chanced to look up, and there, sticking in the pipeclay, was a piece of gold as big as my fist. Such was my dream. It took complete possession of me. I could think of nothing else. Some weeks after, I selected just such a site for a shaft as that I had dreamt of, under a gum-tree, close by a creek; and there, new-chum like, I put in the drive at the wrong depth. But, one day, when I had got quite sick at fruitlessly working in the hole, on accidentally looking up, sure enough there was my nugget sticking up in the pipeclay, just as I had dreamt of it. I took out the gold, sat with it in my hand, and thought the thing over, but couldn't make it out at all."