SUNDAY 3.—A fine morning. After our usual service Frank, my brother, and myself, determined on an exploring expedition, and off we went, leaving the dinner in the charge of the others. We left the busy throng of the diggers far behind us, and wandered into spots where the sound of the pick and shovel, or the noise of human traffic, had never penetrated. The scene and the day were in unison; all was harmonious, majestic, and serene. Those mighty forests, hushed in a sombre and awful silence; those ranges of undulating hill and dale never yet trodden by the foot of man; the soft still air, so still that it left every leaf unruffled, flung an intensity of awe over our feelings, and led us from the contemplation of nature to worship nature's God.
We sat in silence for some while deeply impressed by all around us, and, whilst still sitting and gazing there, a change almost imperceptibly came over the face of both earth and sky. The forest swayed to and fro, a sighing moaning sound was borne upon the wind, and a noise as of the rush of waters, dark massive clouds rolled over the sky till the bright blue heavens were completely hidden, and then, ere we had recovered from our first alarm and bewilderment, the storm in its unmitigated fury burst upon us. The rain fell in torrents, and we knew not where to turn.
Taking me between them, they succeeded in reaching an immense shea-oak, under which we hoped to find some shelter till the violence of the rain had diminished; nor where we disappointed, though it was long before we could venture to leave our place of refuge. At length however, we did so, and endeavoured to find our way back to Eagle Hawk Gully. Hopeless task! The ground was so slippery, it was as much as we could do to walk without falling; the mud and dirt clung to our boots, and a heavy rain beat against our faces and nearly blinded us.
"It is clearing up to windward," observed Frank; "another half-hour and the rain will be all but over; let us return to our tree again."
We did so. Frank was correct; in less than the time he had specified a slight drizzling rain was all of the storm that remained.
With much less difficulty we again attempted to return home, but before very long we made the startling discovery that we had completely lost our way, and to add to our misfortune the small pocket-compass, which Frank had brought with him, and which would have now so greatly assisted us, was missing, most probably dropped from his pocket during the skirmish to get under shelter. We still wandered along till stopped by the shades of evening, which came upon us—there is little or no twilight in Australia.
We seated ourselves upon the trunk of a fallen tree, wet, hungry, and, worst of all, ignorant of where we were. Shivering with cold, and our wet garments hanging most uncomfortably around us, we endeavoured to console one another by reflecting that the next morning we could not fail to reach our tents. The rain had entirely ceased, and providentially for us the night was pitch dark—I say providentially, because after having remained for two hours in this wretched plight a small light in the distance became suddenly visible to us all, so distant, that but for the intensity of the darkness it might have passed unnoticed. "Thank God!" simultaneously burst from our lips.
"Let us hasten there," cried Frank, "a whole night like this may be your sister's death and would ruin the constitution of a giant."
To this we gladly acceded, and were greatly encouraged by perceiving that the light remained stationary. But it was a perilous undertaking. Luckily my brother had managed to get hold of a long stick with which he sounded the way, for either large stones or water-holes would have been awkward customers in the dark; wonderful to relate we escaped both, and when within hailing distance of the light, which we perceived came from a torch hold by some one, we shouted with all our remaining strength, but without diminishing our exertions to reach it. Soon—with feelings that only those who have encountered similar dangers can understand—answering voices fell upon our ears. Eagerly we pressed forward, and in the excitement of the moment we relinquished all hold of one another, and attempted to wade through the mud singly.
"Stop! halt!" shouted more than one stentorian voice; but the warning came too late. My feet slipped—a sharp pain succeeded by a sudden chill—a feeling of suffocation—of my head being ready to burst—and I remembered no more.
When I recovered consciousness it was late in the morning, for the bright sun shone upon the ground through the crevices of a sail cloth tent, and so different was all that met my eyes to the dismal scene through which I had so lately passed, and which yet haunted my memory, that I felt that sweet feeling of relief which we experience when, waking from some horrid vision, we become convinced how unsubstantial are its terrors, and are ready to smile at the pain they excited.
That I was in a strange place became quickly evident, and among the distant hum of voices which ever and anon broke the silence not one familiar tone could I recognize. I endeavoured to raise myself so as to hear more distinctly, and then it was that an acute pain in the ankle of the right foot, gave me pretty strong evidence as to the reality of the last night's adventures. I was forced to lie down again, but not before I had espied a hand-bell which lay within reach on a small barrel near my bed. Determined as far as possible to fathom the mystery, I rang a loud peal with it, not doubting but what it would bring my brother to me. My surprise and delight may be easier imagined than described, when, as though in obedience to my summons, I saw a small white hand push aside the canvas at one corner of the tent, and one of my own sex entered.
She was young and fair; her step was soft and her voice most musically gentle. Her eyes were a deep blue, and a rich brown was the colour of her hair, which she wore in very short curls all round her head and parted on one side, which almost gave her the appearance of a pretty boy.
These little particulars I noticed afterwards; at that time I only felt that her gentle voice and kind friendliness of manner inexpressibly soothed me.
After having bathed my ankle, which I found to be badly sprained and cut, she related, as far as she was acquainted with them, the events the previous evening. I learnt that these tents belonged to a party from England, of one of whom she was the wife, and the tent in which I lay was her apartment. They had not been long at the diggings, and preferred the spot where they were to the more frequented parts.
The storm of yesterday had passed over them without doing much damage, and as their tents were well painted over the tops, they managed to keep themselves tolerably dry; but later in the evening, owing to the softness of the ground, one of the side-posts partly gave way, which aroused them all, and torches were lit, and every one busied in trying to prop it up till morning. Whilst thus engaged they heard our voices calling for help. They answered, at the same time getting ready some more torches before, advancing to meet us, as there were several pit-holes between us and them. Their call for us to remain stationary came too late to save me from slipping into one of their pits, thereby spraining my ankle and otherwise hurting myself, besides being buried to my forehead in mud and water. The pit was not quite five feet deep, but, unfortunately for myself in this instance, I belong to the pocket edition of the feminine sex. They soon extricated me from this perilous situation, and carried me to their tents, where, by the assistance of my new friend, I was divested of the mud that still clung to me, and placed into bed.
Before morning the storm, which we all thought had passed over, burst forth with redoubled fury; the flashes of lightning were succeeded by loud peals of thunder, and the rain came splashing down. Their tents were situated on a slight rise, or they would have run great risk of being washed away; every hole was filled with water, and the shea-oak, of whose friendly shelter we had availed ourselves the evening before, was struck by lightning, shivered into a thousand pieces. After a while the storm abated, and the warm sun and a drying wind were quickly removing all traces of it.
Frank and my brother, after an early breakfast, had set out for Eagle Hawk Gully under the guidance of my fair friend's husband, who knew the road thither very well; it was only three miles distant. He was to bring back with him a change of clothing for me, as his wife had persuaded my brother to leave me in her charge until I had quite recovered from the effects of the accident, "which he more readily promised," she observed, "as we are not quite strangers, having met once before."
This awakened my curiosity, and I would not rest satisfied till fully acquainted with the how, when, and where. Subsequently she related to me some portion of the history of her life, which it will be no breach of confidence to repeat here.
Short as it is, however, it is deserving of another chapter.
Harriette Walters had been a wife but twelve months, when the sudden failure of the house in which her husband was a junior partner involved them in irretrievable ruin, and threw them almost penniless upon the world. At this time the commercial advantages of Australia, the opening it afforded for all classes of men, and above all, its immense mineral wealth, were the subject of universal attention. Mr. Walters' friends advised him to emigrate, and the small sum saved from the wreck of their fortune served to defray the expenses of the journey. Harriette, sorely against her wishes, remained behind with an old maiden aunt, until her husband could obtain a home for her in the colonies.
The day of parting arrived; the ship which bore him away disappeared from her sight, and almost heart-broken she returned to the humble residence of her sole remaining relative.
Ere she had recovered from the shock occasioned by her husband's departure, her aged relation died from a sudden attack of illness, and Harriette was left alone to struggle with her poverty and her grief. The whole of her aunt's income had been derived from an annuity, which of course died with her; and her personal property, when sold, realized not much more than sufficient to pay a few debts and the funeral expenses; so that when these last sad duties were performed, Harriette found herself with a few pounds in her pocket, homeless, friendless, and alone.
Her thoughts turned to the distant land, her husband's home, and every hope was centred in the one intense desire to join him there. The means were wanting, she had none from whom she could solicit assistance, but her determination did not fail. She advertized for a situation as companion to an invalid, or nurse to young children, during the voyage to Port Philip, provided her passage-money was paid by her employer. This she soon obtained. The ship was a fast sailer, the winds were favourable, and by a strange chance she arrived in Melbourne three weeks before her husband. This time was a great trial to her. Alone and unprotected in that strange, rough city, without money, without friends, she felt truly wretched. It was not a place for a female to be without a protector, and she knew it, yet protector she had none; even the family with whom she had come out, had gone many miles up the country. She possessed little money, lodgings and food were at an awful price, and employment for a female, except of a rough sort, was not easily procured.
In this dilemma she took the singular notion into her head of disguising her sex, and thereby avoiding much of the insult and annoyance to which an unprotected female would have been liable. Being of a slight figure, and taking the usual colonial costume—loose trowsers, a full, blue serge shirt, fastened round the waist by a leather belt, and a wide-awake—Harriette passed very well for what she assumed to be—a young lad just arrived from England. She immediately obtained a light situation near the wharf, where for about three weeks she worked hard enough at a salary of a pound a week, board, and permission to sleep in an old tumbledown shed beside the store.
At last the long looked-for vessel arrived. That must have been a moment of intense happiness which restored her to her husband's arms—for him not unmingled with surprise; he could not at first recognize her in her new garb. She would hear of no further separation, and when she learnt he had joined a party for the Bendigo diggings, she positively refused to remain in Melbourne, and she retained her boyish dress until their arrival at Bendigo. The party her husband belonged to had two tents, one of which they readily gave up to the married couple, as they were only too glad to have the company and in-door assistance of a sensible, active woman during their spell at the diggings. For the sake of economy, during the time that elapsed before they could commence their journey up, all of them lived in the tents which they pitched on a small rise on the south side of the Yarra. Here it was that our acquaintance first took place; doubtless, my readers will, long ere this, have recognized in the hospitable gentleman I encountered there, my friend's husband, and, in the delicate-looking youth who had so attracted my attention, the fair Harriette herself.
But—REVENONS A NOS MOUTONS.
On the third day of my visit I was pronounced convalescent, and that evening my brother and William came to conduct me back to Eagle Hawk Gully. It was with no little regret that I bade farewell to my new friend, and I must confess that the pleasure of her society had for the time made me quite careless as to the quantity of gold our party might be taking up during my absence. Whilst walking towards our tents, I heard the full particulars of their work, which I subjoin, so as to resume the thread of my DIGGING narrative in a proper manner.
MONDAY.—Much upset by their anxiety occasioned by the non-appearance the previous evening of Frank, my brother, and myself. The two former did not reach home till nearly noon, the roads were so heavy. After dinner all set to work in better spirits; came to the end of the gold—took out nearly four Pounds weight.
TUESDAY AND WEDNESDAY.—Digging various holes in the vicinity of the lucky spot, but without success. The other party did the same with no better result.
Such were the tidings that I heard after my three days' absence.
THURSDAY.—To-day was spent in prospecting—that is, searching for a spot whose geological formation gives some promise of the precious metal. In the evening, William and Octavius returned with the news that they had found a place at some, distance from the gully, which they thought would prove "paying," as they had washed some of the surface soil, which yielded well. It was arranged that the party be divided into two, and take alternate days to dig there.
FRIDAY.—In pursuance of the foregoing plan William and Octavius set off, carrying a good quantity of dinner and their tools along with them. They worked hard enough during the day, but only brought back three pennyweights of gold-dust with them. My brother and Frank gained a deal more by surface washing at home.
SATURDAY.—Changed hands. Frank and my brother to the new spot, digging. Octavius and William surface washing. There results were much the same as the day before.
SUNDAY, OCTOBER 10—We took advantage of the fine weather to pay a visit to Harriette and her party. We found them in excellent spirits, for at last they had hit upon a rich vein, which had for three days been yielding an average of four pounds weight a day, and was not yet exhausted. I say AT LAST, for I have not before mentioned that they had never obtained more than an ounce of gold altogether, up to the day I left them. We were sincerely pleased with their good fortune. Harriette hoped that soon they might be able to leave this wild sort of life, and purchase a small farm, and once again have a home of their own. This could not be done near Melbourne, so they meant to go to South Australia, where any quantity of land may be bought. In THIS colony no smaller quantity than a square mile—640 acres—is sold by the Government in one lot; consequently, those whose capital is unequal to purchase this, go to some other colony, and there invest the wealth they have acquired in Victoria.
As we had some idea of leaving Eagle Hawk Gully, I bade Harriette farewell. We never expected to meet again. It chanced otherwise; but I must not anticipate.
Monday and Tuesday were most unprofitably passed in digging holes; and on Tuesday night we determined to leave the Eagle Hawk, and try our fortune in some of the neighbouring gullies.
Wednesday was a bustling day. We sold our tent, tools, cradle, &c., as we knew plenty were always to be bought of those who, like ourselves, were changing their place. Had we known what we were about, we should never have burdened ourselves by bringing so many goods and chattels a hundred and twenty miles or more up the country; but "experience teaches." Having parted with all encumbrances, myself excepted, we started for the Iron Bark Gully. All the gold had been transmitted by the escort to Melbourne, and one fine nugget, weighing nearly five ounces, had been sent to Richard. We could not resist the pleasure of presenting him with it, although by our rules not entitled to any of the proceeds.
The following are the rules by which our affairs were regulated. They were drawn up before leaving Melbourne, and signed by all. Though crude and imperfect, they were sufficient to preserve complete harmony and good fellowship between five young men of different character, taste, and education—a harmony and good fellowship which even Richard's withdrawal did not interrupt.
The rules were these:
1. No one party to be ruler; but every week by turn, one to buy, sell, take charge of gold, and transact all business matters.
2. The gold to be divided, and accounts settled every Saturday night.
3. Any one voluntarily leaving the party, to have one-third of his original share in the expense of purchasing tent and tools returned to him, but to have no further claim upon them or upon the gold that may be found after his withdrawal. Any one dismissed the party for misconduct, to forfeit all claim upon the joint property.
4. The party agree to stand by one another in all danger, difficulty, or illness.
5. Swearing, gambling, and drinking spirits to be strictly avoided.
6. Morning service to be read every Sunday morning.
7. All disputes or appeals from the foregoing rules to be settled by a majority.
I have said little in description of the Eagle Hawk, for all gullies or valleys at the diggings bear a strong external resemblance one to another. This one differed from others only in being much longer and wider; the sides, as is usually the case in the richest gullies, were not precipitous, but very gradual; a few mountains closed the background. The digging was in many places very shallow, and the soil was sometimes of a clayey description, sometimes very gravelly with slate bottom, sometimes gravelly with pipeclay bottom, sometimes quite sandy; in fact, the earth was of all sorts and depths.
At one time there were eight thousand diggers together in Eagle Hawk Gully. This was some months before we visited it. During the period of our stay at Bendigo there were not more than a thousand, and fewer still in the Iron Bark. The reasons for this apparent desertion were several.
The weather continued wet and uncertain, so that many who had gone down to Melbourne remained there, not yet considering the ground sufficiently recovered from the effects of the prolonged wet season, they had no desire to run the risk of being buried alive in their holes. Many had gone to the Adelaide diggings, of which further particulars hereafter, and many more had gone across the country to the Ovens, or, farther still, to the Sydney diggings themselves. According to digging parlance, "the Turon was looking up," and Bendigo, Mount Alexander, and Forest Creek were thinned accordingly. But perhaps the real cause of their desertion arose from the altered state of the diggings. Some time since one party netted 900 pounds in three weeks; 100 pounds a week was thought nothing wonderful. Four men found one day seventy-five pounds weight; another party took from the foot of a tree gold to the value of 2000 pounds. A friend of mine once met a man whom he knew returning to Melbourne, walking in dusty rags and dirt behind a dray, yet carrying with him 1,500 pounds worth of gold. In Peg Leg Gully, fifty and even eighty pounds weight had been taken from holes only three or four feet deep. At Forest Creek a hole produced sixty pounds weight in one day, and forty more the day after. From one of the golden gullies a party took up the incredible quantity of one hundred and ninety-eight pounds weight in six weeks. These are but two or three instances out of the many that occurred to prove the richness of this truly auriferous spot. The consequence may be easily imagined; thousands flocked to Bendigo. The "lucky bits" were still as numerous, but being disseminated among a greater number of diggers, it followed that there were many more blanks than prizes, and the disappointed multitude were ready to be off to the first new discovery. Small gains were beneath their notice. I have often heard the miners say that they would rather spend their last farthing digging fifty holes, even if they found nothing in them, than "tamely" earn an ounce a day by washing the surface soil; on the same principle, I suppose, that a gambler would throw up a small but certain income to be earned by his own industry, for the uncertain profits of the cue or dice.
For ourselves, we had nothing to complain about. During the short space of time that we had been at Eagle Hawk Gully, we had done as well as one in fifty, and might therefore be classed among the lucky diggers; but "the more people have, the more they want;" and although the many pounds weight of the precious metal that our party had "taken up" gave, when divided, a good round sum a-piece, the avaricious creatures bore the want of success that followed more unphilosophically than they had done before the rich "pocketful" of gold had made its appearance. They would dig none but shallow holes, and a sort of gambling manner of setting to work replaced the active perseverance they had at first displayed.
Some days before we left, Eagle Hawk Gully had been condemned as a "worthless place," and a change decided on. The when and the where were fixed much in the following manner:
"I say, mates," observed William on the evening of the Sunday on which I had paid my last visit to Harriette, "I say, mates, nice pickings a man got last week in the Iron Bark—only twenty pounds weight out of one hole; that's all."
"Think it's true?" said Octavius, quietly.
"Of course; likely enough. I propose we pack up our traps, and honour this said gully with our presence forthwith."
"Let's inquire first," put in Frank; "it's foolish to change good quarters on such slight grounds."
"Good quarters! slight grounds!" cried William; "what next? what would you have? Good quarters! yes, as far as diggings concerned—whether you find anything for your digging is another matter. Slight grounds, indeed! twenty pounds weight in one day! Yes, we ought to inquire; you're right there, old boy, and the proper place to commence our inquiries is at the gully itself. Let's be off tomorrow."
"Wait two days longer," said Octavius "and I am agreeable."
And this, after a little chaffing between the impatient William and his more business-like comrades, was satisfactorily arranged.
Behold us then, on Wednesday the 13th, after having sold all our goods that were saleable, making our way to the Iron Bark Gully. William enacted the part of auctioneer, which he did in a manner most satisfactory to himself, and amusing to his audience; but the things sold very badly, so many were doing the same. The tents fetched only a few shillings each, and the tools, cradles, &c., EN MASSE, were knocked down for half a sovereign.
The morning was rather cloudy, which made our pedestrian mode of travelling not so fatiguing as it might have been, had the sun in true colonial strength been shining upon us. This was very fortunately not the case, for we more than once mistook our way, and made a long walk out of a short one—quite a work of supererogation—for the roads were heavy and tiring enough without adding an extra quantity of them.
We passed in the close neighbourhood of Sailor's, Californian, American, Long, and Piccaninny Gullies before reaching our destination. Most of these gullies are considered ransacked, but a very fair amount of gold-dust may be obtained in either by the new comer by tin-dish fossicking in deserted holes. These deserted gullies, as they are called, contained in each no trifling population, and looked full enough for comfortable working. What must they have resembled the summer previous, when some hundreds of people leaving a flat or gully was but as a handful of sand from the sea-shore!
Before evening we arrived at the Iron Bark. This gully takes its name from the splendid trees with which it abounds; and their immense height, their fluted trunks and massive branches gave them a most majestic appearance. We paused beneath one in a more secluded part, and there determined to fix our quarters for the night. The heavy "swags" were flung upon the ground, and the construction of something resembling a tent gave them plenty to do; the tomahawks, which they carried in their belts, were put into immediate requisition, and some branches of the trees were soon formed into rough tent-poles. The tent, however, though perhaps as good as could be expected, was nothing very wonderful after all, being made only of some of the blankets which our party had brought in their swags. Beneath it I reposed very comfortably; and, thanks to my fatiguing walk, slept as soundly as I could possibly have done beneath the roof of a palace. The four gentlemen wrapped themselves in their blankets, and laid down to rest upon the ground beside the fire; their only shelter was the foliage of the friendly tree which spread its branches high above our heads.
Next morning William was for settling ourselves in the gully. He wanted tents, tools, &c., purchased, but by dint of much talking and reasoning, we persuaded him first to look well about, and judge from the success of others whether we were likely to do any good by stopping there. We soon heard the history of the "twenty-pound weight" story. As Frank and Octavius had at once surmised, it originated in a party who were desirous to sell their claims and baggage before starting for Melbourne. I believe they succeeded—there are always plenty of "new chums" to be caught and taken in—and the report had caused a slight rush of diggers, old and new, to the gully. Many of these diggers had again departed, others stayed to give the place a trial; we were not among the latter. The statements of those who were still working were anything but satisfactory, and we were all inclined to push on to Forest Creek.
Meanwhile, it is Thursday afternoon. All but Frank appear disposed for a siesta; he alone seems determined on a walk. I offer myself and am accepted as a companion, and off we go together to explore this new locality.
We proceeded up the gully. Deserted holes there were in numbers, many a great depth, and must have cost a vast amount of manual labour. In some places the diggers were hard at work, and the blows of the pick, the splash of water, and the rocking of the cradle made the diggings seem themselves again. There were several women about, who appeared to take as active an interest in the work as their "better halves." They may often be seen cradling with an infant in their arms. A man and a cart preceeded us up the gully. Every now and again he shouted out in a stentorian voice that made the welkin ring; and the burden of his cry was this:
"'Ere's happles, happles, Vandemonian happles, and them as dislikes the hiland needn't heat them."
The admirers of the fertile island must have been very numerous, for his customers soon made his pippins disappear.
We passed a butcher's shop, or rather tent, which formed a curious spectacle. The animals, cut into halves or quarters, were hung round; no small joints there—half a sheep or none; heads, feet, and skins were lying about for any one to have for the trouble of picking up, and a quantity of goods of all sorts and sizes, gridirons, saucepans, cradles, empty tea-chests, were lying scattered around in all directions ticketed "for sale." We quickly went on, for it was not a particularly pleasant sight, and at some distance perceived a quiet little nook rather out of the road, in which was one solitary tent. We hastened our steps, and advanced nearer, when we perceived that the tent was made of a large blanket suspended over a rope, which was tied from one tree to another. The blanket was fastened into the ground by large wooden pegs. Near to the opening of the tent, upon a piece of rock, sat a little girl of about ten years old. By her side was a quantity of the coarse green gauze of which the diggers' veils are made. She was working at this so industriously, and her little head was bent so fixedly over her fingers that she did not notice our approach. We stood for some minutes silently watching her, till Frank, wishing to see more of her countenance, clapped his hands noisily together for the purpose of rousing her.
She started, and looked up. What a volume of sorrow and of suffering did those pale features speak!
Suddenly a look of pleasure flashed over her countenance. She sprang from her seat, and advancing towards Frank, exclaimed:
"Maybe you'll be wanting a veil, Sir. I've plenty nice ones, stronger, better, and cheaper than you'll get at the store. Summer dust's coming, Sir. You'll want one, won't you? I havn't sold one this week," she added, almost imploringly, perceiving what she fancied a "no-customer" look in his face.
"I'll have one, little girl," he answered in a kindly tone, "and what price is it to be?"
"Eighteen pence, Sir, if you'd please be so good."
Frank put the money into her hand, but returned the veil. This action seemed not quite to satisfy her; either she did not comprehend what he meant, or it hurt her self-pride, for she said quickly:
"I havn't only green veils—p'raps you'd like some candles better—I makes them too."
"YOU make them?" said Frank, laughing as he glanced at the little hands that were still holding the veil for his acceptance. "YOU make them? Your mother makes the candles, you mean."
"I have no mother now," said she, with an expression of real melancholy in her countenance and voice. "I makes the candles and the veils, and the diggers they buys them of me, cos grandfather's ill, and got nobody to work for him but me."
"Where do you and your grandfather live?" I asked. "In there?" pointing to the blanket tent.
She nodded her head, adding in a lower tone:
"He's asleep now. He sleeps more than he did. He's killed hisself digging for the gold, and he never got none, and he says 'he'll dig till he dies.'"
"Dig till he dies." Fit motto of many a disappointed gold-seeker, the finale of many a broken up, desolated home, the last dying words of many a husband, far away from wife or kindred, with no loved ones near to soothe his departing moments—no better burial—place than the very hole, perchance, in which his last earthly labours were spent. These were some of the thoughts that rapidly chased one another in my mind as the sad words and still sadder tone fell upon my ear.
I was roused by hearing Frank's voice in inquiry as to how she made her candles, and she answered all our questions with a child-like NAIVETE, peculiarly her own. She told us how she boiled down the fat—how once it had caught fire and burnt her severely, and there was the scar still showing on her brown little arm—then how she poured the hot fat into, the tin mould, first fastening in the wicks, then shut up the mould and left it to grow cold as quickly as it would; all this, and many other particulars which I have long since forgotten, she told us; and little by little we learnt too her own history.
Father, mother, grandfather, and herself had all come to the diggings the summer before. Her father met with a severe accident in digging, and returned to Melbourne. He returned only to die, and his wife soon followed him to the grave. Having no other friend or relative in the colonies, the child had been left with her aged grandfather, who appeared as infatuated with the gold-fields as a more hale and younger man. His strength and health were rapidly failing, yet he still dug on. "We shall be rich, and Jessie a fine lady before I die," was ever his promise to her, and that at times when they were almost wanting food.
It was with no idle curiosity that we listened to her; none could help feeling deeply interested in the energetic, unselfish, orphan girl. She was not beautiful, nor was she fair—she had none of those childish graces which usually attract so much attention to children of her age; her eyes were heavy and bloodshot (with work, weeping, cold, and hunger) except when she spoke of her sick grandfather, and then they disclosed a world of tenderness; her hair hung matted round her head; her cheek was wan and sallow; her dress was ill-made and threadbare; yet even thus, few that had once looked at her but would wish to look again. There was an indescribable sweetness about the mouth; the voice was low and musical; the well-shaped head was firmly set upon her shoulders; a fine open forehead surmounted those drooping eyes; there was almost a dash of independence; a "little woman" manner about her that made one imperceptibly forget how young she was in years.
A slight noise in the tent—a gentle moan.
"He's waked; I must go to him, and," in a lower, almost a deprecating tone, "he doesn't like to hear stranger folks about."
We cheerfully complied with the hint and departed, Frank first putting some money into her hand, and promising to call again for the candles and veils she seemed quite anxious we should take in return.
Our thoughts were as busy as our tongues were silent, during the time that elapsed before we reached home. When we entered, we found a discussion going on, and words were running high. My brother and Octavius were for going somewhere to work, not idle about as they were doing now; William wanted to go for a "pleasure trip" to Forest Creek, and then return to Melbourne for a change. Frank listened to it all for some minutes, and then made a speech, the longest I ever heard from him, of which I will repeat portions, as it will explain our future movements.
"This morning, when going down the gully, I met the person whom we bought the dray-horses of in Melbourne. I asked him how he was doing, and he answered, 'badly enough; but a friend's just received accounts of some new diggings out Albury way, and there I mean to go.' He showed me also a letter he had received from a party in Melbourne, who were going there. From these accounts, gold is very plentiful at this spot, and I for one think we may as well try our fortune in this new place, as anywhere else. The route is partly along the Sydney road, which is good, but it is altogether a journey of two hundred miles. I would therefore propose (turning to my brother), that we proceed first to Melbourne, where you can leave your sister, and we can then start for the Ovens; and as provisions are at an exorbitant price there, we might risk a little money in taking up a dray-full of goods as before. And as we may never chance to be in this part of Victoria again, I vote that we take William's 'pleasure trip' to Forest Creek, stop there a few days, and then to Melbourne."
This plan was adopted.
FRIDAY MORNING.—Frank stole out early after breakfast, for a visit to little Jessie. I learnt the full particulars afterwards, and therefore will relate them as they occurred, as though myself present. He did not find her sitting outside the tent as before, and hesitated whether to remain or go away, when a low moaning inside determined him to enter. He pushed aside the blanket, and saw her lying upon an old mattress on the ground; beside her was a dark object, which he could not at first distinguish plainly. It was her grandfather, and he was dead. The moaning came from the living orphan, and piteous it was to hear her. It took Frank but a few minutes to ascertain all this, and then he gently let down the blanket, and hastened to the butcher's shop I have already mentioned. He learnt all that there was to know: that she had no friends, no relatives, and that nothing but her own labour, and the kindness of others, had kept them from starvation through the winter. Frank left a small sum in the butcher's hands, to have the old man buried, as best could be, in so wild and unnatural a place, and then returned to the mourning child. When he looked in, she was lying silent and senseless beside the corpse. A gentle breathing—a slight heaving of the chest, was all that distinguished the living from the dead. Carefully taking her in his arms, he carried her to our tent. As I saw him thus approaching, an idea of the truth flashed across me. Frank brought her inside, and laid her upon the ground—the only resting-place we had for her. She soon opened her eyes, the quick transition through the air had assisted in reviving her, and then I could tell that the whole sad truth returned fresh to her recollection. She sat up, resting her head upon her open hands, whilst her eyes were fixed sullenly, almost doggedly, upon the ground. Our attempts at consolation seemed useless. Frank and I glanced at one another. "Tell us how it happened," said he gently.
Jessie made no answer. She seemed like one who heard not.
"It must have been through some great carelessness—some neglect," pursued Frank, laying a strong emphasis on the last word.
This effectually roused her.
"I NEVER left him—I NEVER neglected him. When I waked in the morning I thought him asleep. I made my fire. I crept softly about to make his gruel for breakfast, and I took it him, and found him dead—dead," and she burst into a passion of tears.
Frank's pretended insinuation had done her good; and now that her grief found its natural vent, her mind became calmer, and exhausted with sorrow, she fell into a soothing slumber.
We had prepared to start before noon, but this incident delayed us a little. When Jessie awoke, she seemed to feel intuitively that Frank was her best friend, for she kept beside him during our hasty dinner, and retained his hand during the walk. There was a pleasant breeze, and we did not feel over fatigued when, after having walked about eight miles, we sat down beneath a most magnificent gum tree, more than a hundred feet high. Frank very wisely made Jessie bestir herself, and assist in our preparations. She collected dry sticks for a fire, went with him to a small creek near for a supply of water; and so well did he succeed, that for a while she nearly forgot her troubles, and could almost smile at some of William's gay sallies.
Next morning, very early, breakfast rapidly disappeared, and we were marching onwards. An empty cart, drawn by a stout horse, passed us.
Frank glanced at the pale little child beside him. "Where to?" cried he.
"Forest Creek."
"Take us for what?"
"A canary a-piece."
"Agreed." And we gladly sprung in. For the sake of the uninitiated, I must explain that, in digger's slang, a "canary" and half-a-sovereign are synonymous.
We passed the "Porcupine Inn." We halted at noon, dined, and about two hours after sighted the Commissioners' tent. In a few minutes the cart stopped.
"Can't take yer not no further. If the master seed yer, I'd cotch it for taking yer at all."
We paid him and alighted.
In my last chapter we were left standing not far from the Commissioners' tent, Forest Creek, at about three o'clock in the afternoon of Saturday, the 16th. An air of quiet prevailed, and made the scene unlike any other we had as yet viewed at the diggings. It was the middle of the month; here and there a stray applicant for a licence might make his appearance, but the body of the diggers had done so long before, and were disseminated over the creek digging, washing, or cradling, as the case might be, but here at least was quiet. To the right of the Licensing Commissioners' tent was a large one appropriated to receiving the gold to be forwarded to Melbourne by the Government escort. There were a number of police and pensioners about.
Not many months ago, the scarcity of these at the diggings had prevented the better class of diggers from carrying on their operations with any degree of comfort, or feeling that their lives and property were secure. But this was now altered; large bodies of police were placed on duty, and wooden buildings erected in various parts of the diggings for their accommodation. Assistant Commissioners (who were also magistrates) had been appointed, and large bodies of pensioners enrolled as police, and acting under their orders. Roads were also being made in all directions, thereby greatly facilitating intercommunication.
But I must not forget that we are standing looking about us without exactly knowing where to turn. Suddenly William started off like a shot in pursuit of a man a little way from us. We could not at first guess who it was, for in the diggers' dress all men look like so many brothers; but as we approached nearer we recognised our late captain, Gregory.
"Well, old fellow, and where did you spring from?" was Frank's salutation. "I thought you were stuck fast in the Eagle Hawk."
"I may say the same," said Gregory, smiling. "How got you here?"
This was soon told, and our present dilemma was not left unmentioned.
"A friend in need is a friend indeed," says the proverb, and William echoed it, as Gregory very complaisantly informed us that, having just entered upon a store not far distant, he would be delighted to give us a shelter for a few nights. This we gladly accepted, and were soon comfortably domiciled beneath a bark and canvas tent adjoining his store. Here we supped, after which Gregory left us, and returned with mattresses, blankets, &c., which he placed on the ground, whilst he coolly ordered the gentlemen to prepare to take their departure, he himself presently setting them the example.
"I'm certain sure the young leddy's tired," said he; "and that little lassie there (pointing to Jessie) looks as pale and as wizened as an old woman of seventy—the sooner they gets to sleep the better."
We followed the kindly hint, and Jessie and myself were soon fast asleep in spite of the din close beside us. It was Saturday night, and the store was full; but the Babel-like sounds disturbed us not, and we neither of us woke till morning.
It was Sunday. The day was fine, and we strolled here and there, wandering a good way from Gregory's store. As we returned, we passed near the scene of the monster meeting of 1851. The following account of it is so correct, that I cannot do better than transcribe it.
"The exceeding richness of the Mount Alexander diggings, and extraordinary success of many of the miners, led the Government to issue a proclamation, raising the licence from thirty shillings to three pounds. As soon as these intentions became known, a public meeting of all the miners was convened, and took place on the 15th of December, 1851. This resolve of the Governor and Executive Council was injudicious, since, in New South Wales, the Government proposed to reduce the fee to 15s.; and among the miners in Victoria, dissatisfaction was rife, on account of the apparent disregard by the Government of the wants and wishes of the people engaged in the gold diggings, and because of the absence of all police protection, while there appeared to be no effort made to remedy this defect. Indignation was, therefore, unequivocally expressed at the several diggings' meetings which were held, and at which it was resolved to hold a monster meeting. The 'Old Shepherd's Hut,' an out station of Dr. Barker's, and very near the Commissioners' tent, was the scene chosen for this display. For miles around work ceased, cradles were hushed, and, the diggers, anxious to show their determination, assembled in crowds, swarming from every creek, gully, hill, and dale, even from the distant Bendigo, twenty miles away. They felt that if they tamely allowed the Government to charge 3 pounds one month, the licensing fee might be increased to 6 pounds the next; and by such a system of oppression, the diggers' vocation would be suspended.
"It has been computed that from fifteen to twenty thousand persons were on the ground during the time of the meeting. Hundreds, who came and heard, gave place to the coming multitude, satisfied with having attended to countenance the proceedings. The meeting ultimately dispersed quietly, thereby disappointing the anticipations of those who expected, perhaps even desired, a turbulent termination. The majority determined to resist any attempt to enforce this measure, and to pay NOTHING; but, happily, they were not reduced to this extremity, since his Excellency wisely gave notice that no change would be made in the amount demanded for licence."
The trees up which the diggers had climbed during the meeting are still pointed out.
The "Old Shepherd's Hut" was standing. It seemed a most commodious little building compared to the insecure shelter of' a digger's tent. The sides of the hut were formed of slabs, which were made mostly from the stringy bark,—a tree that splits easily—the roof was composed of the bark from the same tree; the chimney was of stones mortared together with mud. This is the general style of building for shepherds' huts in the bush. As we passed it I could not but mentally contrast the scene that took place there on the important day of the monster meeting, to the deep tranquillity that must have reigned around the spot for centuries before the discovery of gold drew multitudes to the place.
The trees in this neighbourhood are mostly stringy bark; almost all are peeled of their covering, as many diggers, particularly those who have their families with them, keep much to one part, and think it, therefore, no waste of time or labour to erect a hut, instead of living in a comfortless tent.
On Monday morning we determined to pursue our travels, and meant that day to pay a flying, visit to Fryer's Creek. It was a lovely morning, and we set out in high spirits. A heavy rain during the night had well laid the dust. On our way we took a peep at several flats and gullies, many of which looked very picturesque, particularly one called Specimen Gully, which was but thinly inhabited.
We had hardly reached Fryer's Creek itself when we saw a vast concourse of people gathered together. Frank and my brother remained with me at a little distance, whilst Octavius and William went to learn the occasion of this commotion. It arose from an awful accident which had just occurred.
Three brothers were working in a claim beside the stream, some way apart from the other diggers. The heavy rain during the night had raised the water, and the ground between the hole where they were working and the Creek, had given way imperceptibly UNDERNEATH. One brother, who was early in the hole at work, fancied that the water at the bottom was gradually rising above his knees; he shouted to his comrades, but unfortunately they had gone, one, one way, one, another, in quest of something, and it was some minutes ere they returned.
Meanwhile the water in the hole was slowly but surely rising, and the slippery sides which were several feet high defied him to extricate himself. His cries for help became louder—he was heard, and his brothers and some neighbours hastened to his assistance. Ropes were procured after some further delay, and thrown to the unhappy man—but it was too late. None dared approach very near, for the ground was like a bog, and might at any moment give way beneath their feet; the water was nearly level with the top of the hole, and all hope of saving him was gone. The brothers had often been warned of the danger they were running.
Shuddering at the thoughts of this awful death we turned away, but no change of scene could dissipate it from our minds—the remembrance of it haunted me for many a night.
Jessie seemed pleased to see us on our return—we had left her behind with Gregory to his great delight—we abstained from mentioning before her the fearful accident we had but witnessed.
That evening we wandered about Forest Creek. We had not gone far before a digger with a pistol in his hand shot by us; he was followed by an immense mob, hooting, yelling, and screaming, as only a mob at the diggings can. It was in full pursuit, and we turned aside only in time to prevent ourselves from being knocked down in the confusion.
"Stop him—stop him," was the cry. He was captured, and the cry changed to, "String him up—string him up—it's useless taking him to the police-office."
"What has he done?" asked my brother of a quiet by-stander.
"Shot a man in a quarrel at a grogshop."
"String him up—string him up—confront him with the body," vociferated the mob.
At this moment the firmly-secured and well-guarded culprit passed by, to be confronted with the dead body of his adversary. No sooner did he come into his presence than the CI-DEVANT corpse found his feet, "showed fight," and roared out, "Come on," with a most unghostlike vehemence. The fury of the mob cooled down; the people thought the man had been murdered, whereas the shot, fortunately for both, had glanced over the forehead without doing any serious injury. Taking advantage of this lull, the fugitive declared that the wounded man had been robbing him. This turned the tables, and, inspired by the hootings of the now indignant mob, the "dead man" took to his heels and disappeared.
The diggers in Pennyweight Flat, Nicholson's Gully, Lever Flat, Dirty Dick's Gully, Gibson's Flat, at the mouth of Dingley Dell, and in Dingley Dell itself, were tolerably contented with their gains, although in many instances, the parties who were digging in the centre of the gullies, or what is called "the slip," experienced considerable trouble in bailing the water out of their holes.
Some of the names given to the spots about Forest Creek are anything but euphonious. Dingley Dell is, however, an exception, and sounds quite musical compared to Dirty Dick's Gully. The former name was given to the place by a gentleman from Adelaide, and was suggested by the perpetual tinkling of the bullock's bells, it being a favourite camping place for bullock drivers, offering, as it did, an excellent supply of both wood, water, and food for their cattle. From whom the latter inelegant name originated I cannot precisely tell—but there are plenty of "dirty Dicks" all over the diggings.
The current prices of this date at Forest Creek were as follows: flour, 9 to 10 pounds per hundred-weight; sugar, 1s. 6d. a pound, very scarce; tea, 3s.; rice, 1s.; coffee, 3s.; tobacco, 8s.; cheese, 3s.; butter, 4s.; honey, 3s. 6d.; candles, 1s. 6d; currants, 1s. 6d., very scarce; raisins, 1s. 6d.; figs, 2s. 6d.; salt, 1s. 6d. Picks, spades, and tin dishes, 10s. each. Gold 64s. per ounce.
TUESDAY, 19.—Before breakfast we were busily employed in packing the "swags" when Octavius suddenly dropped the strap he held in his hand for that purpose, and darted into the store. Thinking that we had omitted something which he went to fetch, we continued our work. When everything was ready and the last strap in its place, we again thought of our absent comrade, making all sorts of surmises regarding his disappearance, when, just as Frank was going after him, in he walked, accompanied by a stranger whom he introduced as his uncle. This surprised us, as we were ignorant of his having any relatives in the colonies. He then explained that a younger brother of his father's had about eight years ago gone to South Australia, and that never having heard of him for some years they had mourned him as dead. After many adventures he had taken a fancy to the diggings, and had just come from Melbourne with a dray full of goods. He went to Gregory's store to dispose of them. Octavius had heard them in conversation together, and had mistaken his uncle's for his father's voice. Hence the precipitation of his exit. The uncle was a tall sunburnt man, who looked well-inured to hardship and fatigue. He stayed and took breakfast with us, and then having satisfactorily arranged his business with Gregory, and emptied his dray, he obligingly offered to convey Jessie and myself to Melbourne in it. Accordingly after dinner we all started together.
Our new companion was a most agreeable person, and his knowledge of the colonies was extensive. With anecdotes of the bush, the mines, and the town, he made the journey pass most pleasantly. Before evening we reached the Golden Point near Mount Alexander. This term of "Golden" has been applied to a great many spots where the deposits have been richer than, usual. There was a Golden Point at Ballarat, and when the report of the Alexander diggings drew the people from there, they carried the name with them, and applied it to this portion of the mount. To the left of the Point, which was still full of labourers, was the store of Mr. Black, with the Union-Jack flying above it. It is a most noted store, and at one time when certain delicacies were not to be had in Melbourne they were comparatively cheap here.
We passed by this busy spot and encamped at sunset at the foot of Mount Alexander. It was a lovely evening and our eyes were feasted by a Most glorious sight. All the trees of the forest gradually faded away in the darkness, but beyond them, and through them were glimpses of the granite-like walls of the mount, brilliantly shining in and reflecting the last glowing rays of the setting sun. Some of the gorgeous scenes of fairy-land seemed before us—we could have imagined that we were approaching by night some illuminated, some enchanted castle.
That evening we sat late round our fire listening to the history which the uncle of Octavius related of some of his adventures in South Australia. The posts he had filled formed a curious medley of occupations, and I almost forget the routine in which they followed one another, but I will endeavour to relate his story as much as possible in his own words.
"When I started from England, after having paid passage-money, &c., I found myself with about 200 pounds ready money in my purse—it was all I had to expect, and I determined to be very careful of it; but by a young man of five-and-twenty these resolutions, like lady's promises, are made to be broken. When I landed in Adelaide with my money in my pocket—minus a few pounds I had lost at whist and cribbage on board ship—I made my way to the best inn, where I stayed some days, and ran up rather a longish bill. Then I wanted to see the country, which I found impossible without a horse, so bought one, and rode about to the various stations, where I was generally hospitably received, and thus passed a few months very pleasantly, only my purse was running low. I sold the horse, then my watch, and spent the money. When that was gone, I thought of the letters of introduction I possessed. The first that came to hand was directed to a Wesleyan minister. I called there, looking as sanctimonious as I could. He heard my story, advised me to go to chapel regularly, 'And for your temporal wants,' said he, 'the Lord will provide.' I thanked him, and bowed myself off.
"My first act was to burn my packet of introductory letters, my next was to engage myself to a stock-holder at 15s. a week and my rations. He was going up to his station at once, and I accompanied him. We travelled for about two hundred miles through a most beautiful country before we reached his home. His house was, in my ideas, a comical-looking affair—made of split logs of wood, with a bark roof, and a barrel stuck on the top of the roof at one end by way of a chimney-pot. His wife, a pale sickly little woman, seemed pleased to see us, for she had been much alarmed by the natives, who were rather numerous about the neighbourhood. There was only a young lad, and an old shepherd and his wife upon the station, besides herself. Before I had been there six weeks she died, and her new-born little baby died too; there was not a doctor for miles, and the shepherd's wife was worse than useless. I believe this often happens in the bush—it's not a place for woman-folks.
"I was here eighteen months—it was a wild sort of life, and just suited my fancy; but when I found I had some money to receive, I thought a spree in town would be a nice change, so off I marched. My spree lasted as long as my money, and then I went as barman to a public-house at Clare, some way up the country—here I got better wages and better board, and stopped about half-a-year. Then I turned brewer's drayman, and delivered casks of good Australian ale about Adelaide for 30s. a week. The brewer failed, and I joined in a speculation with an apple dealer to cart a lot up to the Kapunda copper mines. That paid well. I stopped up there as overseer over four-and-twenty bullock-drays. Well, winter came, and I had little to do, though I drew my 30s. a week regularly enough, when the directors wanted a contract for putting the small copper-dust into bags, and sewing them up. I offered to do the job at 2d. a bag, and could get through a hundred and fifty a day. How much is that? Oh! 12s. 6d. a-piece. I forgot to tell you I'd a mate at the work. That was good earnings in those days; and me and my mate, who was quite a lad, were making a pretty penny, when some others offered to do them a halfpenny a bag cheaper. I did the same, and we kept it to ourselves for about four weeks longer, when a penny a bag was offered. There was competition for you! This roused my bile—I threw it up altogether—and off to Adelaide again. Soon spent all my cash, and went into a ship-chandler's office till they failed; then was clerk to a butcher, and lost my situation for throwing a quarter of his own mutton at him in a rage; and then I again turned brewer's man. Whilst there I heard of the diggings—left the brewer and his casks to look after themselves, and off on foot to Ballarat.
"Here I found the holes averaging some thirty feet—which was a style of hard work I didn't quite admire; so hearing of the greater facility of the Alexander diggings, I went through Bully Rook Forest, and tried my luck in the Jim Crow Ranges. This paid well; and I bought a dray, and bring up goods to the stores, which I find easier work, and twice as profitable as digging. There's my story; and little I thought when I went into Gregory's store to-day, that I should find my curly-pated nephew ready to hear it."
Next day we travelled on, and halted near Saw-pit Gully; it was early in the afternoon, and we took a walk about this most interesting locality. The earth was torn up everywhere—a few lucky hits had sufficed to re-collect a good many diggers there, and they were working vigorously. At dusk the labour ceased—the men returned to their tents, and for the last time our ears were assailed by the diggers' usual serenade. Imagine some hundreds of revolvers almost instantaneously fired—the sound reverberating through the mighty forests, and echoed far and near—again and again till the last faint echo died away in the distance. Then a hundred blazing fires burst upon the sight—around them gathered the rough miners themselves—their sun-burnt, hair-covered faces illumined by the ruddy glare. Wild songs, and still wilder bursts of laughter are heard; gradually the flames sink and disappear, and an oppressive stillness follows (sleep rarely refuses to visit the diggers' lowly couch), broken only by some midnight carouser, as he vainly endeavours to find his tent. No fear of a "peeler" taking him off to a police-station, or of being brought before a magistrate next morning, and "fined five shillings for being drunk."
Early on Tuesday morning I gave a parting look to the diggings—our dray went slowly onwards—a slight turn in the road, and the last tent has vanished from my sight. "Never," thought I, "shall I look on such a scene again!"