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, and took 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 resolved on 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 the ringing 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 solitary piping-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--no
landmarks--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 marsupial animals 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:

[Footnote 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.]

[Footnote 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.]




CHAPTER XIV.

GOLD-BUYING AND GOLD-MINING.

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 heavy iron 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 iron mortar 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 by the 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 begin his
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-mining is 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 2_l._ 10_s._ 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 120_l._
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 120_l._ 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 400_l._ Though this may seem a
good yield, it is small compared with richer quartz. I have heard of
one mine which gave 200 ounces, or 800_l._, 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 for draining 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 did _not_ take 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 in gold-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
4_d._ 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-quarters of a
pennyweight (about 3_s._) 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 anything of
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 600_l._, or 200_l._
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."

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 12: The ordinary price of good gold is 3_l._ 19_s._ 6_d._
the ounce. In the early days of gold-digging, the gold was never
cleaned, but bought right off at a low price, 2_l._ 15_s._ or 2_l._
17_s._ 6_d._ an ounce; the bankers thus often realizing immense
profits.]




CHAPTER XV

ROUGH LIFE AT THE DIGGINGS--"STOP THIEF!"

GOLD-RUSHING--DIGGERS' CAMP AT HAVELOCK--MURDER OF LOPEZ--PURSUIT AND
CAPTURE OF THE MURDERER--THE THIEVES HUNTED FROM THE CAMP--DEATH OF
THE MURDERER--THE POLICE--ATTEMPTED ROBBERY OF THE COLLINGWOOD
BANK--ANOTHER SUPPOSED ROBBERY--"STOP THIEF!"--SMART USE OF THE
TELEGRAPH.


In the times of the early rushes to the gold-fields there was, as
might be expected, a good deal of disorder and lawlessness. When the
rumour of a new gold-field went abroad, its richness was, as usual,
exaggerated in proportion to the distance it travelled; and men of all
classes rushed from far and near to the new diggings. Melbourne was
half emptied of its labouring population; sailors deserted their
ships; shepherds left their flocks, and stockmen their cattle; and,
worst of all, there also came pouring into Victoria the looser part of
the convict population of the adjoining colonies. These all flocked to
the last discovered field, which was invariably reputed the richest
that had yet been discovered.

Money was rapidly made by some where gold was found in any abundance;
but when the soil proved comparatively poor, the crowd soon dispersed
in search of other diggings. A population so suddenly drawn together
by the fierce love of gain, and containing so large an admixture of
the desperado element, could scarcely be expected to be very orderly.
Yet it is astonishing how soon, after the first rush was over, the
camp would settle down into a state of comparative order and
peaceableness. For it was always the interest of the majority to put
down plundering and disorder. Their first concern was for the security
of their lives, and their next for the security of the gold they were
able to scrape together.

When the lawless men about a camp were numerous, and robberies became
frequent, the diggers would suddenly extemporise a police, rout out
the thieves, and drive them perforce from the camp. I may illustrate
this early state of things by what occurred at Havelock, a place about
seven miles from Majorca. The gully there was "rushed" about nine
years since, when some twenty thousand diggers were drawn together,
with even more than the usual proportion of grog-shanty keepers,
loafers, thieves, and low men and women of every description. In fact,
the very scum of the roving population of the colony seems to have
accumulated in the camp; and crime upon crime was committed, until at
length an affair occurred, more dreadful and outrageous than anything
that had preceded it, which thoroughly roused the digger population,
and a rising took place, which ended in their hunting the whole of the
thieves and scoundrels into the bush.

The affair has been related to me by three of the persons who were
themselves actors in it, and it is briefly as follows:--At the corner
of one of the main thoroughfares of the camp, composed of canvas tents
and wooden stores, there stood an extemporized restaurant, kept by a
Spaniard named Lopez. A few yards from his place was a store occupied
by a Mr. S----, now a storekeeper in Majorca, and a customer at our
bank. Opposite to S----'s store stood a tent, the occupants of which
were known to be among the most lawless ruffians in the camp. S----
had seen the men more than once watching his store, and he had formed
the conviction that they meant at some convenient opportunity to rob
him, so he never slept without a loaded revolver under his pillow. One
night in particular he was very anxious. The men stood about at the
front of his store near closing time, suspiciously eyeing his
premises, as he thought. So he put a bold face on, came to the door
near where they were standing, discharged his pistol in the air--a
regular custom in the diggings at night--reloaded, entered his store,
and bolted himself in. He went to bed at about ten o'clock, and lay
awake listening, for he could not sleep. It was not very long before
he heard some person's steps close by his hut, and a muttering of
smothered voices. The steps passed on; and then; after the lapse of
about ten minutes, he heard a shot--a scream--and hurried footsteps
running close past his hut. He lay in bed, determined not to go out,
as he feared that this was only a _ruse_ on the part of the thieves to
induce him to open his door. But soon he heard shouts outside, as of
persons in pursuit of some one, and jumping out of bed, he ran out
half dressed and joined in the chase.

Now, this is what had happened during the ten minutes that he had lain
in bed listening. The thieves had stolen past his store, as he had
heard them, and gone forward to the restaurant kept by the Spaniard.
They looked into the bar, and through the chinks of the wood they saw
Lopez counting over the money he had taken during the day. The bar was
closed, but the men knocked at the door for admission. Lopez asked
what they wanted; the reply was that they wished for admission to have
a drink. After some demur, Lopez at last opened the door, and the men
entered. Nobblers were ordered, and while Lopez was reaching for a
bottle, one of the thieves, named Brooke, made a grab at the money
lying in the open drawer. The landlord saw his hand, and instantly
snatching up a large Spanish knife which lay behind the counter, he
made a lunge at Brooke, and so fiercely did he strike that the knife
ripped up the man's abdomen. With a yell of rage, Brooke drew his
revolver, instantly shot Lopez through the head, and he fell dead
without a groan.

Meanwhile the other thieves had fled; and now Brooke himself, holding
his wound together with his hand, ran out of the house, through the
street of tents, across the lead, and into the bush. But the hue and
cry had been raised; the diggers bundled out of their tents, and
before the murderer had reached the cover of the bush, already a dozen
men were on his track. It was full moon, and they could see him
clearly, holding on his way, avoiding the crab-holes, and running at a
good speed notwithstanding his fearful wound. Among the foremost of
the pursuers were a trooper and an active little fellow who is now
living in Majorca. They got nearer and nearer to Brooke, who turned
from time to time to watch their advance. The trooper was gaining upon
him fast; but when within about fifteen yards of him Brooke turned,
took aim with his revolver, and deliberately fired. The aim was too
true: the trooper fell dead, shot right through the heart. Brooke
turned to fly immediately he had fired his shot, but the root of a
tree behind him tripped him up, and the little man who followed close
behind the trooper was upon him in an instant, with his knee upon his
body holding him down. Brooke managed to turn himself half round,
presented his revolver at his captor, and fired. The cap snapped on
the nipple! My friend says he will never forget the look the wretch
gave him when his pistol missed fire. A few minutes--long, long
minutes--passed, and at length help arrived and the murderer was
secured. The number shortly increased to a crowd of angry diggers. At
first they wished to hang Brooke at once upon the nearest tree; but
moderate counsels prevailed, and at last they agreed to take him into
Havelock and send for a doctor.

When the crowd got back to Havelock their fury broke out. They
determined to level the thieves' tents and the grog-shanties that had
harboured them. What a wild scene it must have been! Two or three
thousand men pulling down huts and tents, smashing crockery and
furniture, ripping up beds, and levelling the roosts of infamy to the
ground. When Dr. Laidman, the doctor sent for from Maryborough,
arrived to attend the dying man, he saw a cloud of "white things" in
the air, and could not make out what they were. They turned out to be
the feathers of the numerous feather-beds, which the diggers had torn
to pieces, that were flying about. The diggers' blood was fairly up,
and they were determined to make "a clean job of it" before they had
done. And not only did they thoroughly root out and destroy all the
thieves' dens and low grog-shops and places of ill-fame, but they
literally hunted the owners and occupants of them right out into the
bush.

I must now tell you of the murderer's end. He was taken to the rude
theatre of the place, and laid down upon the stage, with his two
victims beside him--the dead Lopez on one side and the dead trooper on
the other. When the doctor arrived, he examined Brooke, and told him
he would try to keep him alive, so that justice might be done. And the
doctor did his best. But the Spaniard's wound had been terrible and
deadly. Brooke died in about half an hour from the time of the
doctor's arrival The murderer remained impenitent to the last, and
opened his mouth only once to utter an oath. Such was the horrible
ending of this digger's tragedy.

Cases such as this are, however, of rare occurrence. So soon as a
digging becomes established, a regular police is employed to ensure
order, and local self-government soon follows. We had often occasion
to ride over to Maryborough, taking with us gold; but though we were
well known in the place, and our errand might be surmised, we were
never molested, nor, indeed, entertained the slightest apprehension of
danger. It is true that in the bank we usually had a loaded revolver
lying in the drawer ready at hand, in case it should be needed; but we
had never occasion to use it.

Some years ago, however, an actual attempt was openly made to rob a
bank in Collingwood, a suburb of Melbourne, which was very gallantly
resisted. The bank stood in a well-frequented part of the town, where
people were constantly passing to and fro. One day two men entered it
during office hours. One of them deliberately bolted the door, and the
other marched up to the counter and presented a pistol at the head of
the accountant who stood behind it. Nothing daunted, the young man at
once vaulted over the counter, calling loudly to the manager for help,
and collared the ruffian, whose pistol went off as he went down. The
manager rushed out from his room, and tackled the other fellow. Both
the robbers were strong, powerful men, but they fought without the
courage of honesty. The struggle was long and desperate, until at last
assistance came, and both were secured. A presentation of plate was
made to the two officials who had so courageously done their duty,
and they are still in the service of the same bank.

In direct contrast to this case, I may mention a rather mysterious
circumstance which occurred at an up-country bank, situated in a
quartz-mining district. I must first explain that the bank building is
situated in a street, with houses on both sides, and that any noise in
it would readily be heard by the neighbours. One young fellow only was
in charge of the place. The manager of a neighbouring branch called
weekly for the surplus cash and the gold bought during the week. The
youth in charge suddenly reported one day that he had been "stuck up,"
as the colonial phrase is for being robbed. He said that one night, as
he was going into the bank, where he slept--in fact just as he was
putting the key into the lock--a man came up to him, and, clapping a
pistol to his head, demanded the key of the safe. He gave it him,
showed him where the gold and notes were kept, and, in fact, enabled
the robber to make up a decent "swag." The man, whoever he was, got
away with all the money. The bank thought it their duty to proceed
against the clerk himself for appropriating the money. But the proof
was insufficient, and the verdict brought in was "Not guilty."

We were one day somewhat alarmed at Majorca by a letter received from
our manager at Maryborough, informing us that a great many bad
characters were known to be abroad and at work--and cautioning us to
be particularly upon our guard. We were directed to discharge our
firearms frequently and keep them in good order, so that in case of
need they should not miss fire. We were also to give due notice when
we required notes from Maryborough, so that the messenger appointed to
bring them over should be accompanied by a complete escort, _i.e._, a
mounted trooper. All this was very alarming, and we prepared for
events accordingly.

A few nights after, as we were sitting under the manse verandah, we
heard a loud cry of "Stop thief!" The robbers, then, were already in
the township! We jumped up at once, looked round the corner of the
house, and saw two men running off as fast as they could, followed at
some distance by another man shouting frantically, "Stop thief!" We
immediately started in pursuit of the supposed thieves. We soon came
up with the man who had been robbed, and whom we found swearing in a
most dreadful way. This we were very much astonished at, as we
recognised in him one of the most pious Wesleyans in the township. But
we soon shot ahead of him, and gradually came up with the thieves,
whom we at first supposed to be Chinamen. As we were close upon them,
they suddenly stopped, turned round, and burst out laughing! Surely
there must be some mistake! We recognised in the "thieves" the son of
the old gentleman whom we had just passed, with one of his companions,
who had pretended to steal his fowls, as Chinamen are apt to do:
whereas they had really carried off nothing at all. In short, we, as
well as our respected Wesleyan friend, felt ourselves completely
"sold."

The only attempt at dishonesty practised upon our branch which I can
recollect while at Majorca was one of fraud and not of force. We had
just been placed in telegraphic communication with the other towns in
the colony. The opening of the telegraph was celebrated, as usual, by
the Town Council "shouting" champagne. Some time before, a
working-man, who had some money deposited with us, called in a fluster
to say his receipts had been stolen. This was noted. Now came a
telegram from Ballarat, saying that a receipt of our branch had been
presented for payment, and asking if it was correct. We answered
sharp, ordering the man to be detained. He was accordingly taken into
custody, handed over to the police, and remanded to Newstead, where
the receipt had been stolen. Newstead is a long way from Majorca, but
our manager drove over with a pair of horses to give his evidence. It
turned out that our customer's coat, containing the receipt, had been
stolen while he was at his work. The thief was identified as having
been seen hanging about the place; and the result was that he was
committed, tried, and duly convicted. So you see that we are pretty
smart out here, and not a long way behind the old country after all.




CHAPTER XVI.

PLACES ABOUT.

VISIT TO BALLARAT--THE JOURNEY BY COACH--BALLARAT FOUNDED ON
GOLD--DESCRIPTION OF THE TOWN--BALLARAT "CORNER"--THE SPECULATIVE
COBBLER--FIRE BRIGADES--RETURN JOURNEY--CRAB-HOLES--THE TALBOT
BALL--THE TALBOT FГЉTE--THE AVOCA RACES--SUNRISE IN THE BUSH.


One of the most interesting visits to places that I made while staying
at Majorca was to Ballarat, the mining capital of the colony,
sometimes called here the Victorian Manchester. The time of my visit
was not the most propitious, for it was shortly after a heavy fall of
rain, which had left the roads in a very bad state. But I will
describe my journey.

Three of us hired a one-horse buggy to take us on to Clunes, which lay
in our way. The load was rather too much for the horse, but we took
turn and turn about at walking, and made it as light for the animal as
possible. At Clunes I parted with my companions, who determined to
take the buggy on to Ballarat. I thought it preferable to wait for the
afternoon coach; and after being hospitably entertained at dinner by
the manager of our Branch Bank at Clunes, I took my place in the coach
for Ballarat.

We had not gone more than about a mile when the metalled road ended,
and the Slough of Despond began,--the road so called, though it was
little more than a deep mud-track, winding up a steepish ascent. All
the passengers got out and walked up the hill. In the distance we saw
a buggy in difficulties. I had already apprehended the fate of my
mates who had gone on before me, and avoided sharing it by taking my
place in the coach. But we were in little better straits ourselves.
When we got up to the buggy, we found it fairly stuck in the mud, in
one of the worst parts of the road, with a trace broken. I got under
the rails of the paddock in which the coach passengers were
walking--for it was impossible to walk in the road--and crossed over
to where my former mates were stuck. They were out in the deep mud,
almost knee-deep, trying to mend the broken trace. Altogether they
looked in a very sorry plight.

At the top of the hill we again mounted the coach, and got on very
well for about three miles, until we came to another very bad piece of
road. Here we diverged from it altogether, and proceeded into an
adjoining field, so as to drive alongside the road, and join it a
little further on. The ground looked to me very soft, and so it was.
For we had not gone far when the coach gave a plunge, and the wheels
sank axle-deep in a crab-hole. All hands had now to set to work to
help the coach out of the mud; while the driver urged his horses with
cries and cracks of his long whip. But it was of no use. The two
wheelers were fairly exhausted, and their struggling only sent them
deeper into the mud. The horses were then unharnessed, and the three
strongest were yoked in a line, so as to give the foremost of them a
better foot-hold. But it was still of no use. It was not until the mud
round the wheels had been all dug out, and the passengers lifted the
hind wheels and the coach bodily up, that the horses were at last able
to extricate the vehicle. By this time we were all in a sad state of
dirt and wet, for the rain had begun to fall quite steadily.

Shortly after, we reached the half-way house and changed horses. We
now rattled along at a pretty good pace. But every now and then the
driver would shout, "Look out inside!" and there would be a sudden
roll, followed by a jerk and pitch combined, and you would be thrown
over upon your opposite neighbour, or he upon you. At last, after a
rather uncomfortable journey, we reached the outskirts of a large
town, and in a few minutes more we found ourselves safely jolted into
Ballarat.

I am not at all up in the statistics of the colony, and cannot tell
the population or the number of inhabited houses in Ballarat.[13] But
it is an immense place, second in importance in the colony only to
Melbourne. Big though it be, like most of these up-country towns,
Ballarat originated in a rush. It was only in September, 1851, that a
blacksmith at Buningong, named Hiscocks, who had long been searching
for gold, traced a mountain-torrent back into the hills towards the
north, and came upon the rich lode which soon became known as the
"Ballarat Diggings." When the rumour of the discovery got abroad,
there was a great rush of people to the place, accompanied by the
usual disorders; but they gradually settled down, and Ballarat was
founded. The whole soil of the place was found to contain more or less
gold. It was gathered in the ranges, on the flats, in the
water-courses, and especially in the small veins of blue clay, lying
almost above the so-called "pipeclay." The gold was to all appearance
quite pure, and was found in rolled or water-course irregular lumps of
various sizes, from a quarter or half an ounce in weight, sometimes
incorporated with round pebbles of quartz, which appeared to have
formed the original matrix.

The digging was at first for the most part alluvial, but when skilled
miners arrived from England, operations were begun on a much larger
scale, until now it is conducted upon a regular system, by means of
costly machinery and highly-organised labour. To give an idea of the
extensive character of the operations, I may mention that one company,
the Band of Hope, has erected machinery of the value of 70,000_l._ The
main shaft, from which the various workings branch out, is 420 feet
deep; and 350 men are employed in and about the mine. It may also be
mentioned that the deeper the workings have gone, the richer has been
the yield of gold. This one company has, in a comparatively short
time, raised gold worth over half a million sterling; the quantity
produced by the Ballarat mines, since the discovery of gold in
September, 1851, to the end of 1866, having been worth about one
hundred and thirty millions sterling.