Chapter IX: Part 9

"Certainly. How could I be mistaken? You know I was at Captain Hyland's house several times, and saw her there--to say nothing of that scene we had with Adkins, when we were all in Liverpool together. I could not be mistaken: for I spoke to her the time I was at her house in London. She was married about two years before to the captain of the Australian ship--a man old enough to be her father."

What reason had I to doubt Mason's word? None.

I went ashore with a soul-sickening sensation, that caused me to wish myself as free from the cares of this life, as the mother I had lately lowered into her grave.

How dark seemed the world!

The sun seemed no longer shining, to give light; but only to warm my woe.

The beacon that had been guiding my actions so brightly and well, had become suddenly extinguished; and I was left in a night of sorrow, as dark, as I should have deserved, had my great love been for crime instead of Lenore!

What had I done to be cursed with this, the greatest, misfortune Fate can bestow?

Where was my reward for the wear of body and soul, through long years of toil, and with that conscientious and steadfast spirit, the wise tell us, must surely win? What had _I_ won? Only an immortal woe!

Thenceforth was I to be in truth, a "Rolling Stone," for the only attraction that could have bound me to one place, or to anything--even to life itself--had for ever departed from my soul.

The world before me seemed not the one through which I had been hitherto straying. I seemed to have fallen from some bright field of manly strife, down, far down, into a dark and dreary land--there to wander friendless, unheeded and unloved, vainly seeking for something, I knew not what, and without the hope, or even the desire of finding it!

I could not blame Lenore. She had broken no faith with me: none had been plighted between us. I had not even talked to her of love.

Had she promised to await my return--had she ever confessed any affection for me--some indignation, or contempt for her perfidy, might have arisen to rescue me from my fearful reflections.

But I was denied even this slight source of consolation. There was nothing for which I could blame her--nothing to aid me in conquering the hopeless passion, that still burned within my soul.

I had been a fool to build such a vast superstructure of hope on a foundation so flimsy and fanciful.

It had fallen; and every faculty of my mind seemed crushed amid the ruins.

In one way only was I fortunate. I was in a land where gold fields of extraordinary richness, had been discovered; and I knew, that there is no occupation followed by man--calculated to so much concentrate his thoughts upon the present, and abstract them from the past--as that of gold hunting.

Join a new rush to the gold fields, all ye who are weary in soul, and sorrow-laden, and the past will soon sink unheeded under the excitement of the present.

I knew that this was the very thing I now required; and, from the moment of receiving the unwelcome tidings communicated by Mason, I relinquished all thought of returning to Liverpool.

I did not tell my sister Martha of this sudden change in my designs; but, requesting her not to write, until she should first hear from me, I bade her farewell--leaving her in great grief, at my departure.

Twenty-four hours after, I was passing out of the harbour of Sydney--in a steamer bound for the city of Melbourne.

Volume Two, Chapter XX.

THE VICTORIA DIGGINGS.

My passage from Sydney to Melbourne, was made in the steamer "Shamrock," and, after landing on the shore of Port Philip, I tried to believe myself free from all that could attract my thoughts to other lands.

I endeavoured to fancy myself once more a youth--with everything to win, and nothing to lose.

The scenes I encountered in the young colony, favoured my efforts; and after a time, I began to take an interest in much that was transpiring around me.

I could not very well do otherwise: since, to a great deal I saw in Melbourne, my attention was called, in a most disagreeable manner.

Never had I been amongst so large a population, where society was in so uncivilised a condition. The number of men and women encountered in the streets in a state of beastly intoxication--the number of both sexes, to be seen with black eyes, and other evidences, that told of many a mutual "misunderstanding,"--the horridly profane language issuing out of the public-houses, as you passed them--in short, everything that met either the eye or ear of the stranger, proclaimed to him, in a sense not to be mistaken, that Melbourne must be the abode of a depraved people. There, for the first time in my life, I saw men allowed to take their seats at the breakfast tables of an hotel, while in a state of staggering intoxication!

With much that was disgusting to witness, there were some spectacles that were rather amusing. A majority of the men seen walking the streets--or encountered in the bar-rooms of public-houses--carried grand riding whips; and a great many wore glittering spurs--who had never been upon the back of horse!

The hotel keepers of Melbourne did not care for the custom of respectable people, just landed in the colony; but preferred the patronage of men from the mines--diggers who would deposit with them, the proceeds of their labour, in bags of gold dust; and remain drunk, until told there was but five pounds of the deposit left--just enough to carry them back to the diggings!

I am not speaking of Melbourne at the present time; but the Melbourne of ten years ago. It is now a fine city, where a part of all the world's produce may be obtained for a reasonable price. Most of the inhabitants of the Melbourne of 1853--owing to the facility of acquiring the means-- have long since killed themselves off by drink and dissipation; and a population of more respectable citizens, from the mother country, now supply their places.

I made but a short stay in this colonial Gomorrah. Disgusted with the city, and everything in it, a few days after my arrival, I started off for the McIvor diggings.

I travelled in company with several others, who were going to the same place--to which we had "chartered" a horse and dray for carrying our "swags."

One of my travelling companions was drunk, the night before leaving Melbourne; and, in consequence, could eat no breakfast on the morning when we were about to start. He had neglected to provide himself with food for the journey; and depended on getting his meals at eating-houses along the road.

Before the day was over, he had become very hungry; but would not accept of any food offered him by the others.

"No thank'ee," he would say, when asked to have something. "I'll wait. We shall stop at a coffee-house before night; and I'll make it a caution to the man as keeps it. I'll eat all before me. My word! but I'll make it a warning to him, whoever he be. He'll not want to keep a coffee-house any longer."

This curious threat was repeated several times during the day; and we all expected, when evening should arrive, to see something wonderful in the way of consuming provisions.

We at length reached the coffee-house, where we intended to stay for the night; and called for our dinners. When told to sit down, we did so; and there was placed before us a shoulder of mutton, from which, as was evident by the havoc made upon it, several hungry men had already dined.

A loaf, baked in the ashes--known in the colonies as a "damper"--some tea, in which had been boiled a little sugar, some salt, and a pickle bottle with some dirty vinegar in it, were the concomitants of the shoulder, or "knuckle" of mutton. I had sate down to many such meals before; and was therefore in no way disappointed. But the man who had been all day without eating seemed to be very differently affected. According to custom, he had to prepay his four shillings, before taking his seat at the table; and on seeing what he was to get for his money, he seemed rather chagrined.

"My word!" cried he; "I did say that I'd make it a warning to the landlord; but my word!--he's made it a warning to me. I sate down hungry, but I shall get up starving."

None of us could reasonably doubt the truth, thus naively enunciated by our travelling companion.

After reaching the diggings at McIvor, I entered into partnership with one of the men, who had travelled with me from Melbourne. We purchased a tent and tools; and at once set to work to gather gold.

Judge Lynch was very much wanted on the diggings of McIvor--as well as throughout all Victoria, during the first three years after gold had been discovered there.

Those, who claimed to be the most respectable of the colonists, did not want an English colony disgraced by "Lynch Law"--a wonderful bugbear to the English ear--so they allowed it to be disgraced by ten times the number of thefts and robberies than ever took place in California--which they were pleased to style "the land of bloodshed and crime."

In California miners never required to take their tools home with them at night. They could leave them on their claims; and be confident of finding them there next morning. It was not so in Victoria, where the greatest care could not always prevent the digger from having such property stolen. I have seen--in a copy of the "Melbourne Argus," of November 5th, 1852--two hundred and sixty-six advertisements offering rewards for stolen property! Yet "The London Times," November 6th, 1852, speaks of these same colonies in the following terms:--"It is gratifying to learn that English love of law and common sense there predominate."

As most of the thefts there committed were of articles, too insignificant to pay for advertising their loss, the reader may imagine what was the state of society in Victoria at that time; and how far "English love of law and common sense predominated!"

It was only one of the thousand falsehoods propagated by the truculent scribblers of this unprincipled journal; and for which they may some day be called to account.

But few of those, who committed crimes in the diggings, were ever brought to trial; or in any way made answerable for their misdeeds. Prisoners were sometimes sent down to Melbourne to be tried; but as no one wished to be at an expense of thirty or forty pounds, travel a hundred miles, and lose three or four weeks of valuable time to prosecute them, the result was usually an acquittal; and crime was committed with impunity.

While at McIvor, a thief entered my tent during my absence from it; and stole therefrom a spyglass that had been given me by Captain Hyland-- with some other little articles that I had carried long and far, and valued in proportion.

I afterwards got back the glass by the aid of the police; and very likely might have had the thief convicted and punished--had I felt inclined to forsake a good claim, take a long journey to Melbourne, and spend about forty pounds in appearing against him!

As I did not wish to undertake all this trouble _pro bono publico_, the criminal remained unpunished.

Becoming tired of McIvor, I went on to Fryer's Creek. I there met with a fellow-passenger from California--named Edmund Lee--with whom I joined partnership; but after toiling awhile without much success, we proceeded to a large rush at Jones' Creek--a distance of thirty-five miles from Fryer's.

We started in the afternoon; and stopped the first night at a place called Castlemain.

That evening I saw more drunken men than I had met during a whole year spent in the diggings of California--where the sale of intoxicating liquor was unrestricted, while on the gold fields of Victoria it was strictly prohibited by law! Indeed, about four hundred mounted troopers and policemen were in Castlemain at the time, for the purpose of maintaining "English law and order;" and those selling intoxicating drinks were liable to a fine of fifty pounds or imprisonment, or both! One vice, so prevalent in California, was not to be observed on the gold fields of Victoria. In the latter there were no gambling-houses.

After leaving Castlemain, we walked about twenty-five miles; and stopped all night at "Simpson's Station."

On this pasture I was told there were sixteen thousand head of sheep.

Before reaching Simpson's, we passed a station, on which the sheep were infested with a disease, resembling the "shab." Carcasses of the dead were everywhere to be seen; and those, that were still alive, were hardly able to drag along the few locks of wool clinging to their sky-coloured skins!

On Sunday, the 14th day of August, 1853, we reached the diggings on Jones' Creek, where we found about ten thousand people, but no place where we could procure a meal of victuals, or a night's lodging!

That the reader may have some idea of the hardships to which diggers were then often exposed, I shall make known of the manner of our life, while residing at Jones' Creek.

We first purchased some blankets; and with these, some poles and pieces of string, we constructed a sort of tent. At none of the stores could we find a utensil for cooking meat; and we were compelled to broil it over the fire on the end of a stick. Sometimes we could buy bread that had come from Bendigo, for which we had to pay six shillings the loaf of three and a half pounds weight! When unable to get this, we had to purchase flour at a proportionate price, knead it into dough, and roast it in the ashes.

There was no place of amusement at Jones' Creek; and a strong police force was stationed there, to suppress the sale of liquors; or, rather, to arrest those who sold it; and also to hunt diggers for what was called the "Gold Licence."

The precious metal at this place was found very unevenly distributed through the gullies; and while some were making fortunes by collecting it, others were getting next to nothing.

The gold was found in "nuggets"--lying in "pockets" of the slate rock; and not a fragment could be obtained till these pockets had been explored.

The day after our arrival, my partner and I marked off two claims. Being unable to hold them both, we took our choice of the two; and gave the other one away to some men, with whom we had become slightly acquainted.

The top earth from both claims was removed--disclosing not a speck of gold in that we had retained, while twenty-four pounds weight were picked out--without washing--from the claim we had given away!

Lee and I remained at Jones' Creek three weeks, worked hard, made nothing, and then started back for Fryer's, where our late partners were still toiling.

On our way back we halted for dinner--where some men with a dray load of stores,--on their way to one of the diggings, had also stopped for their mid-day meal.

We had neglected to bring any sugar with us; and wished to buy some for our coffee. The men with the dray did not wish to sell any; but we insisted on having it at any price.

"We'll let you have a pannikin full of sugar," said one, "but shall charge you ten shillings for it."

"All right," said my companion, Edmund Lee. "It's cheap enough-- considering."

The man gave us the sugar; and then refused to take the money! He was not so avaricious, as we had supposed. He had thought, by asking ten times the usual price, to send us away, without being obliged to part with what he might himself soon stand in need of!

On the evening of the second day of our journey, about nine o'clock, we reached the banks of Campbell's Creek--within four miles of the place we were making for.

Rain had been falling all the day; and the stream was so swollen, that we could not safely cross it in the darkness.

The rain continued falling, and we spread our wet blankets on the ground. We prayed in vain for sleep, since we got none throughout that long, dreary night.

Next morning we arose early--more weary than when we had lain down; and, after fording the stream, we kept on to Fryer's Creek--which we reached in a couple of hours.

We had been without food, since the noon of the day before; and from the way we swallowed our breakfast, our former mates might have imagined we had eaten nothing during the whole time of our absence!

Volume Two, Chapter XXI.

THE STOLEN NUGGET.

I worked a claim in German Gully, Fryer's Creek, in partnership with two men, of whom I knew very little; and with whom--except during our hours of labour--I held scarce any intercourse.

One of them was a married man; and dwelt in a large tent with his wife and family. The other lived by himself in a very small tent--that stood near that of his mate. Though both were strangers to me, these men knew each other well; or, at all events, had been associates for several months. I had been taken into their partnership, to enable them to work a claim, which had proved too extensive for two. The three of us, thus temporarily acting together, were not what is called on the diggings "regular mates," though my two partners stood to one another in this relationship.

The claim proved much better than they had expected; and I could tell, by their behaviour, that they felt some regret, at having admitted me into the partnership.

We were about three weeks engaged in completing our task, when the gold we had obtained was divided into three equal portions--each taking his share. The expenses incurred in the work were then settled; and the partnership was considered at an end--each being free to go where he pleased.

On the morning after, I was up at an early hour; but, early as it was, I noticed that the little tent, belonging to the single man, was no longer in its place. I thought its owner might have pitched it in a fresh spot; but, on looking all around, I could not see it.

My reflection was, that the single man must have gone away from the ground.

I did not care a straw, whether he had or not. If I had a wish one way or the other, it was to know that he _had_ gone: for he was an individual whose _room_ would by most people have been preferred to his _company_. For all that, I was somewhat surprised at his disappearance, first, because he had not said anything of his intention to take leave of us in that unceremonious manner; and, secondly, because, I did not expect him to part from his mate, until some quarrel should separate them. As I had heard no dispute--and one could not have occurred, without my hearing it--the man's absence was a mystery to me.

It was soon after explained by his comrade, who came over to my tent, as I suppose, for that very purpose.

"Have you noticed," said he, "that Tom's gone away?"

"Yes," I answered; "I see that his tent has been removed; and I supposed that he had gone."

"When I woke up this morning," continued the married man, "and saw that he had left between two days, I was never more surprised in my life."

"Indeed!"

I had a good deal of respect for Tom, and fancied he had the same for me. I thought we should work together, as long as we stayed on the diggings; and for him to leave, without saying a word about his going, quite stunned me. My wife, however, was not at all surprised at it-- when I told her that he had gone away. She said she expected it; and only wondered he had had the cheek to stay so long.

"I asked her what she meant. By way of reply she brought me this nugget."

As the man finished speaking, he produced from his pocket a lump of gold--weighing about eighteen ounces--and held it up before my eyes.

"But what has this to do with your partner's leaving you?" I asked.

"That's just the question I put to my wife," said the man.

"And what answer did she make?"

"She said, that, after we had been about a week working in the claim, she was one day making some bread; and when she had used up the last dust of flour in the tent, she found that she wanted a handful to sprinkle over the outside of the damper--to keep it from sticking to the pan. With her hands in the dough, she didn't care to go to the store for any; but stepped across to Tom's tent to get a little out of his bag. There was no harm in this: for we were so well acquainted with him, that we knew he would not consider it much of a liberty. My wife had often before been into his hut, to borrow different articles; and Tom knew of it, and of course had said, all right. Well, on the day I am speaking of, she went in after the flour; and, on putting her hand into the bag to take some out, she laid her fingers on this here lump of yellow metal. Don't you see it all now? It's plain as a pike-staff. Tom had found the nugget, while working alone in the claim; and intended to keep it for himself, without letting either of us know anything about it. He was going to rob us of our share of the gold. He has turned out a damned thief."

"Certainly it looks like it," said I.

"I know it," emphatically asserted Tom's old associate. "I know it: for he has worked with me all the time he has been on the diggings; and he had no chance to get this nugget anywhere else. Besides, his having it hid in the flour-bag is proof that he didn't come honestly by it. He never intended to let us know anything about it. My wife is a sharp woman; and could see all this, the moment she laid her hands upon the nugget. She didn't let it go neyther; but brought it away with her. When Tom missed it--which he must have done that very day--he never said a word about his loss. He was afraid to say anything about it, because he knew I would ask him how he came by it, and why he had not mentioned it before. That of itself is proof of his having stolen it out of our claim."

There was no doubt but that the married man and his "sharp" wife were correct in their conjecture, which was a satisfactory explanation of Tom's strange conduct, in taking midnight leave of us. He had kept silent, about losing the nugget, because he was not certain how or where it had gone; and he had not left immediately after discovering his loss, because the claim was too good to be given up for such a trifle. By this attempt to rob us, he had lost the share of the nugget--which he would have been entitled to--while his fears, doubts, and other unpleasant reflections, arising out of the transaction, must have punished him far more effectually than the loss of the lump of gold. He could not have been in a very pleasant humour with himself, while silently taking down his little tent, and sneaking off in the middle of the night to some other diggings, where he might chance to be unknown. I have often witnessed ludicrous illustrations of the old adage, that "honesty is the best policy;" but never one plainer, or better, than Tom's unsuccessful attempt at abstracting the nugget.

There is, perhaps, no occupation, in which men have finer opportunities of robbing their partners, than that of gold-digging. And yet I believe that instances of the kind--that is, of one mate robbing another--are very rare upon the gold fields. During my long experience in the diggings--both of California and Australia--I knew of but two such cases.

The man who brought me the nugget, taken from Tom's tent, was, like the majority of gold-diggers, an honest person. His disclosing the secret was proof of this: since it involved the sharing of the gold with me, which he at once offered to do.

I did not accept of his generous offer; but allowed him to keep the whole of it; or, rather, presented it to his "very clever wife,"--who had certainly done something towards earning a share in it.

Volume Two, Chapter XXII.

A FEARFUL FRIGHT.

After finishing my explorations on Fryer's Creek, I went, in company with my "regular mates," to Ballarat, which was the place where "jeweller's shops" were then being discovered.

The gold on this field was found in "leads"--that lay about one hundred and sixty feet below the surface of the ground.

The leads were generally but one claim in width; and no party could obtain a claim on either of them, without first having a fight to get, and several others to keep, possession of it.

My mates and I succeeded in entering a claim on Sinclair's Hill; and, during the time we were working it, we had five distinct encounters with would-be intruders--in each of which my friend Edmund Lee had an opportunity of distinguishing himself; and, by his fistic prowess, gained great applause from a crowd of admiring spectators.

I have often been in places where my life was in danger, and where the passion of fear had been intensely excited within me; but never was I more frightened than on one occasion--while engaged in this claim upon Sinclair's Hill.

We were sinking the shaft; and I was down in it--at a depth of one hundred and twenty feet from the surface of the earth. One of my mates--as the readiest place to get clear of it--had thrown his oil-cloth coat over the windlass. The coat, thus carelessly placed, slipped off; and came down the shaft--in its descent causing a rustling, roaring noise, that, to me below, sounded somewhat like thunder!

I looked up. All was dark above; and the idea occurred to me, that the shaft had given way at the "drift"--a place about sixty feet above my head, where we had gone through a strata of wet sand. The noisy coat at length reached the bottom, and I found myself unhurt; but, so frightened had I been, that I was unable to go on with my work--until after I had gone up to the surface, swallowed a glass of brandy, and taken a few draws of the pipe!

The business of mining, in the Victoria diggings, is attended with considerable danger; and those who conduct it should be men of temperate habits--as well as possessed of some judgment. Every one on the gold fields, being his own master--and guided only by his own will--of course there are many who work in a reckless manner, and often under the influence of drink. As a consequence, accidents are, or were at that time, of daily occurrence.

When an accident resulted from intoxication, it was generally not the drunken man himself--but his mate--who was the sufferer--the latter having a bucket, or some heavy implement, dropped upon his head, from a height of a hundred feet.

Gold miners, as a class, are exceedingly indifferent to danger; and careless about the means of avoiding it. They will often continue to work in a shaft, that they know must soon "cave" in; but they do so under the hope, that the accident will occur during the night, or while they are at dinner. So long as there is a possibility of their escaping, hope tells them they are "all right"--too often a deceitful tale.

While engaged in gold-digging, I had frequent opportunities of testing a doctrine often put forward by tobacco-smokers: that the "weed" is a powerful antidote to fear. Several times have I been under ground, where I believed myself in danger; and have been haunted by fear that kept me in continued agony, until my pipe was lit--when my apprehensions seemed at once to vanish literally in a cloud of smoke!

There is something in the use of tobacco, that is unexplained, or untaught, in any work of philosophy, natural or unnatural, that I have yet read. The practice of smoking is generally condemned, by those who do not smoke. But certainly, there are times, when a man is the better for burning a little tobacco, although the immoderate use of it, like all other earthly blessings, may be converted into a curse.

My readers may think, that a disquisition on tobacco can have but little to do with the Adventures of a Rolling Stone. But why should they object to knowing my opinions on things in general, since the adventures themselves have been often either caused or controlled by these very opinions? I have entered into a minute detail of my experience in mining affairs, under the belief, that no sensible reader will think it uninteresting; and, still continuing in this belief, I purpose going a _little_ farther into the subject.

While engaged in gold-digging, I have often been led to notice the influence of the mind over the physical system.

In washing dirt that contains but little gold, the body soon becomes weary--so much so, that the work is indeed toil. On the other hand, when the "dirt" is "rich," the digger can exert himself energetically from sunrise to sunset, without feeling fatigue at the termination of such a long spell of labour.

In the business of mining--as in most other occupations--there are certain schemes and tricks, by which men may deceive each other, and sometimes themselves. Gold is often very ingeniously inserted into fragments of quartz rock--in order to facilitate the sale of shares in a "reef."

I made the acquaintance of several diggers who had been deceived in this way; and whose eyes became opened to the trick, only after the tricksters had got out of their reach. On the other hand, I once saw a digger refuse to purchase a share in a reef, from which "splendid specimens" had been procured--fearing that some trickery was about to be practised upon him. One month afterwards, I saw him give, for the same share, just twenty times the amount that he had been first asked for it!

I remember a party of "Tasmanians," who had turned up a large extent of ground, in a claim on Bendigo. The richest of the earth they washed as it was got out; and of the rest they had made a large heap, of what is called "wash dirt, Number 2."

This, they knew, would not much more than pay for the washing; and, as a new "rush" had just been heard of, at a place some miles off, they resolved to sell their "wash dirt, Number 2."

Living near by the diggings was a sort of doctor, who used to speculate, in various ways, in the business of gold-mining. To this individual the Tasmanian diggers betook themselves; and told him, that they had received private intelligence, from the new rush; and that they must start for it immediately, or lose the chance of making their fortunes. For that reason, they wished to sell their "wash dirt," which they knew to be worth at least two ounces to the "load;" but, as they must be off to the "new rush," they were not going to haggle about price; and would take twelve ounces for the pile--they thought, in all, about thirty loads.

The doctor promised to go down the next morning, and have a look at it. In the evening the "Tasmanians" repaired to an acquaintance, who was unknown to the doctor; and requested him to be sauntering about their dirt-heap in the morning, and to have with him a washing-dish. They further instructed him--in the event of his being asked to wash a dish of the dirt--that he was to take a handful from that part of the heap, where he might observe a few specks of white quartz.

Next morning the doctor came, as he had promised; but declined to negotiate, without first having some of the dirt washed, and ascertaining the "prospect."

"We have no objection to that," said one of the proprietors of the dirt-heap, speaking in a confident tone.

"Oh! not the slightest, doctor," added a second of the party.

"Yonder's a man with a washing-dish," remarked a third. "Suppose you get him to prove some of it?"

The man, apparently unconnected with any of the party, was at once called up; and was told, that the dirt was to be sold; and that the intending purchaser wished to see a "prospect" washed, by some person not interested in the sale. He was then asked, if he had any objections to wash a dish or two from the heap.

Of course he had not--not the slightest--anything to oblige them.

"Take a little from everywhere," said one of the owners, "and that will show what the average will yield."

The confederate did as requested; and obtained a "prospect" that proclaimed the dirt probably to contain about four ounces to the load.

The doctor was in a great hurry to give the diggers their price--and in less than ten minutes became the owner of the heap.

The dirt had been, what the diggers call, "salted," and, as was afterwards proved, the speculating doctor did not get from it enough gold to pay the expenses of washing!

At Ballarat my partners and I were successful in our attempts at gold hunting; and yet we were not satisfied with the place. Very few diggers are ever contented with the spot upon which they happen to be. Rumours of richer fields elsewhere are always floating about on the air; and these are too easily credited.

In the latter part of the year 1853, a report reached the diggings of Victoria: that very rich "placers" had been discovered in Peru.

There is now good reason for believing, that these stories were originated in Melbourne; that they were set afoot, and propagated by ship agents and skippers, who wished to send their ships to Callao, and wanted passengers to take in them--or, rather, wanted the money which these passengers would have to pay.

Private letters were shown--purporting to have come from Peru--that gave glowing descriptions of the abundance of gold glittering among the "barrancas" of the Andes.

The Colonial papers did what they could to restrain the rising excitement; and, although they were partly successful, their counter-statements did not prevent many hundreds from becoming victims, to the trickery of the dishonest persons, at that time engaged in the shipping business of Melbourne.

A majority of those, who were deluded into going to Peru, were Americans, Canadians, and Frenchmen--probably for the reason that they were more dissatisfied with Australia, than the colonists themselves.

Amongst the victims of the "Callao fever" I have to record myself--along with two of my partners--Edmund Lea and another. All three of us being too simple-minded to suspect the trick, or too ready to yield to temptation, we set off for Melbourne; and thence set sail across the far-stretching Pacific.

Volume Two, Chapter XXIII.

THE CALLAO GOLD FEVER.

There could not well have been a more uninteresting voyage, than the one we made to Callao. There was about one hundred and fifty passengers on board--most of them young and wild adventurers.

The master of the vessel had the good sense _not_ to attempt the game of starving us. Had he done so, it would have obtained for him an unpleasant popularity. We had no ground for complaint on the score of food.

The principal amusement on board the ship was that of gambling; but it was carried on in a quiet manner; and we had no rows leading to any serious disaster. We had no particular excitement of any kind; and for this reason I have pronounced the voyage uninteresting. For all that, it was not an unpleasant one. I have no hesitation in asserting, that, with the same number of diggers of the pure Australian type, that long voyage, before its termination, would have resembled a "hell aboard ship."

When we at length reached Callao, it was simply to find ourselves laughed at for leaving Victoria! We had left behind us a land of gold; and made a long sea voyage to discover that we had been "gulled."

No one appeared to be at all disappointed. Every one was heard to say, "It's just as I expected!" I may have said so myself--I don't remember whether I did or not--but I admit now, that I thought myself "some" deceived; and I believe that each of my fellow-passengers felt something like myself: and that was, strongly inclined to kill either himself--or some one else--for having been so damnably duped.

To have heard most of them talk, you could scarce have believed, that there had been any disappointment! Many alleged that they had been dissatisfied with the colonies; and had only come to Peru to see that celebrated country--which they had long desired to do!

Some of them claimed, that they had only left the gold fields of Victoria on a sea voyage--in order to recruit their strength; and that they intended to return, and pursue the avocation of gold-digging with greater energy than ever!

Most of the Americans declared, that, they were on their way home across the Isthmus of Panama!

No one would acknowledge, that he had been made a fool of. Each, according to his own showing, had come to Callao for some wise purpose, which he was anxious to explain to the rest--notwithstanding the obvious difficulty of obtaining credence for his story.

About half of those, who were the victims of this gold-digging delusion, became also victims to the fevers of Peru. Some proceeded up the coast to California; others _did_ go home by the Isthmus of Panama; while a few, and only a few, returned to Australia.

In Callao I parted with my friend Edmund Lea, who was one of those who took the Panama route, on his way back to the United States.

He was returning to a happy home, where he would meet those--and there were many of them--who would rejoice at his return.

There was no such home for me. I was alone in the world--a Rolling Stone--with no one to love--no one who cared for me--and no place, except the spot under my feet, that I could call home.

Lea was a young man who won the esteem of all with whom he came in contact--at least, all whose respect was of any value.

I parted from him with much regret. Before bidding adieu, we made arrangements to correspond with each other; and I have heard from him several times since. He is now, or ought to be, living in Lowell, in the State of Massachusets.

In the first ship "up" for Melbourne, I engaged a passage--resolved upon returning to the gold fields of Victoria.

The vessel had arrived from Melbourne only three weeks before--freighted with a full cargo of deluded diggers; and the captain was now about to extract from them some more of their money, by taking them back!

On board there was one young man, who had come to Peru as a passenger. He had not the money to take him back; and, being a seaman, he had joined the ship as one of her crew. We sailed late in the afternoon, and were some time getting out of the harbour. About ten o'clock at night this young man was at the wheel, where he was spoken to by the captain in a very harsh, unpleasant tone. It was said that the skipper was intoxicated; and that he not only spoke in the manner described, but struck the young sailor without the slightest cause or provocation. The exact truth will perhaps never be told. The night was very dark; and all that was certainly known is: that the sailor drew his knife, plunged it into the captain's body; and then jumped overboard into the sea!

As the captain had evidently received a mortal wound, the ship was put about; and brought back to her anchorage within the harbour. The captain was carried below; and for three or four hours he did nothing but swear, and threaten to kill the sailor who had stabbed him. His senses had forsaken him; and it was impossible to make him understand, that the young man had leaped overboard, and was in all probability at that moment fifty fathoms under the sea.

The captain had a wife and two children aboard; and what with the noise made by them, and his own wild ravings, not a soul, either among crew or passengers, slept during that night. By six o'clock in the morning, the wounded man had ceased to live.

Three days after, another captain was sent aboard by the agents; and we again set sail for Melbourne.

Nothing was heard of the sailor previous to our leaving the port or ever afterwards. At the time he jumped overboard lights were to be seen, shining on many vessels in the harbour; and some believed that he might have reached either a ship, or the shore. There was not much probability of his having been saved. Both ships and shore were too distant for him to have swum to either. In all likelihood he preceded the captain, into that unknown world from which there is no return.

Very few, either of the passengers or crew, blamed the young sailor for what he had done. The captain had the reputation of being a "bully;" and his having commenced practising his tyranny so early on the voyage-- and especially on the man at the wheel, who, while there, should have remained unmolested--gave evidence that had he continued to command the ship, our passage across the Pacific might have proved of a character anything but "peaceful."

The skipper, who succeeded him, was a man of a different disposition. He soon became a favourite with all on board; and we had both a quick and pleasant passage to Melbourne--where we arrived without any further accident or obstruction.

When setting foot for the second time on Australian soil, I found the city of Melbourne greatly changed--I am happy to say--for the better.

An attempt was being made at keeping the streets clean. Old buildings had been taken down; and new ones erected in their stead. The citizens, too, were better dressed; and looked, as well as acted, more like human beings.

At the public-houses customers were served with food fitting to eat; and were also treated with some show of civility. The number of people who formerly seemed to think, that a public-house keeper held a higher social position than the governor himself, had become greatly diminished. They were now in a decided minority.

Men were no longer afraid, during night hours, to trust themselves alone in the streets; and they did not, as formerly, issue in armed bands from the public-houses to protect themselves from being robbed, while going to their homes, or repairing to places of amusement.

Men found lying drunk in the gutters were now in some danger of being placed upon a stretcher, and taken away by the police.

The convict element was greatly upon the decrease; and the profane language, imported from the slums of London, was not so disgustingly universal.

I have hurried through the narrative of my voyages from Melbourne to Callao, and back, for two reasons. First, because nothing very interesting occurred to me during either; and secondly, because I feel somewhat ashamed at having been so ridiculously deluded; and have therefore no desire to dwell upon the details of that ill-starred expedition.

Volume Two, Chapter XXIV.

THE YARRA-YARRA.

Soon after my return from Callao, I accompanied two acquaintances, upon a hunting expedition up the Yarra-Yarra.

There is some beautiful scenery along the banks of this river-- beautiful, as curves of shining water, bordered by noble forms of vegetable life, can make it.

There is some pleasure to be found in a hunting excursion in Australia-- although it does not exactly consist in the successful pursuit of game.

In the morning and afternoon, when your shadow is far prolonged over the greensward--and you breathe the free genial atmosphere of that sunny clime--an exhilarating effect is produced upon your spirits, a sort of joyous consciousness of the possession of youth, health, and happiness. To breathe the evening atmosphere of Australia is to become inspired with hope. If despair should visit the soul of one, to whom fate has been unkind, it will come in the mid-day hours; but even then, the philosopher may find a tranquil contentment by lying under the shade of a "she oak," and imbibing the smoke of the Nicotian weed.

One of my companions in the chase chanced to have--living about twenty miles up the river--an acquaintance, who had often invited him to make a visit to his "station."

Our comrade had decided to accept the invitation--taking the two of us along with him, though we were in no haste to reach our destination--so long as we could find amusement by the way.

The squatters, living on their "stations"--at a distance from large towns, or assemblages of the digging population--are noted for their hospitality. They lead, in general, a lonely life; and, for this reason, visitors with whom they can converse, and who can bring them the latest news from the world of society, are ever welcome.

Both the climate and customs of Australia make visitors less troublesome to their hosts, than in almost any other part of the world.

The traveller is usually provided with his own blankets, carried in a roll; and these, wrapped around him in the open air, he prefers to the best bed his host could provide for him.

All that we should require from our comrade's acquaintance would be his company, with plenty of substantial food; and with this last article the squatters of Australia are abundantly supplied.

Not wishing to make a toil, of an excursion intended for amusement, we had purchased an old horse, on which we had packed our blankets, with a few articles of food to sustain us, till we should reach the station of the squatter.

We might have accomplished the journey in a single day; but walking twenty miles within twelve hours, was too much like work; and, on the first night, after leaving Melbourne, we had only made about half the distance!

We had sauntered leisurely along, and spent at least three or four hours under the shade of the trees growing by the side of the road.

This style of travelling appeared to suit the old horse, as much as his masters. It was an animal that had seen its best days; and seemed averse to any movement that called for a high degree of speed. Like most of his kind, in the colonies, he was as much at home in one place as another; and, wherever we stopped for repose, he appeared to think that the halt was made for his especial accommodation.

We did not make much effort to undeceive him. He had seen hard times; and we were, probably, the best masters that had ever owned him.

On the second morning, shortly after resuming our journey, we observed some hills, thickly covered with timber--at some distance to the right of our road. We diverged from the direct path--to see whether we could not find a kangaroo, or some other harmless creature, possessing a happy existence, that might be put an end to.

This undertaking was a success--so far as the kangaroos were concerned-- since we were not able to do injury to any of these creatures.

We caught a glimpse of two or three of them, at a distance; but, after roaming about the timbered ranges for several hours, we did not succeed to get within killing distance of any of them.

We returned to the bank of the river--just in time to form our bivouac, before the night fell upon us--having accomplished during the day, about four miles in the direction in which we intended going!

"I am a little disgusted with hunting," said one of my companions, whose name was Vane. "I move that in the morning we keep on to the station; and see what amusement is to be found there."

This proposition was carried, by a majority of three. The horse, being indifferent on the subject, was permitted to remain neutral.

"What amusement shall we find at your friend's house?" asked Vane of my other companion--who was the one acquainted with the squatter we were on the way to visit.

"Well, I suppose we can have some hunting there," replied the individual thus interrogated; and who always answered, in a polite manner, to the name of "Cannon."

"No, thank you!" said Vane. "We've had enough of that sort of thing to-day. I don't want any more of it."

"But at the station we shall be provided with horses," suggested Cannon; "and, when we get sight of a kangaroo, we can run the animal down."

"That makes a difference," said Vane; "and I don't mind trying it for a day. But is there no other amusement, to be had at your friend's house?"

"Not that I know of--unless you make love to my friend's pretty daughter."

"Ah! that _would_ be amusement," exclaimed Vane, evidently a little stirred by the communication.

"Is she good-looking?" he asked.

"Yes, extremely good-looking. But, remember, comrades," continued Cannon, "I will allow no serious love-making."

"Give yourself no uneasiness about that," rejoined Vane. "In love affairs, I am never serious. Are you?" he asked, turning to me.

"Yes, very serious," I answered, thinking of Lenore.

"Then you will never be successful," said Vane.

I passed half-an-hour in a fruitless endeavour to comprehend the philosophy of this remark, after which I fell asleep.

Next morning, we resumed our route for the squatters' station; and had got about three miles along the road, when we came to a plain, entirely destitute of timber. Upon this plain was a drove of about a hundred horses. They remained motionless, with heads erect, and nostrils spread, until we had approached within fifty yards of them. They then turned, and galloped off at the top of their speed.

At this moment, a change suddenly showed itself in the demeanour of our old roadster. We had been driving him before us, for the last mile or two, with great difficulty; but, on seeing his congeners take to flight, he suddenly threw up his head; and, either calling out to the drove that he was coming, or to us that he was going, he started towards them. Before we could get hold of his bridle, he was beyond reach--going at a rate that promised soon to place him among the foremost of the herd.

We had supposed that our hack belonged to some "serious family" of horses; and that the natural sedateness of his disposition had been augmented by years of toil and starvation. We were never more disappointed, than on seeing him forsake us in the fashion he did. A two-year old could not have gone more gaily.

Cannon and Vane started off in pursuit of him; but, as I had a little more experience in colonial horses, than either of my companions, I bade good-bye both to our roadster and my roll of blankets; and, stretching myself under the shade of a tree, I resolved to await their return.

I did wait. One hour passed, then another, and a third; and still my companions did not come back.

"I am a fool for remaining here," reflected I. "The squatters station cannot be more than five miles distant; and they have probably gone there? The herd of horses undoubtedly belongs to it; and my companions have followed them home?"

Influenced by these conjectures, I once more rose to my feet; and continued the journey, that had been so unexpectedly interrupted.

Volume Two, Chapter XXV.

JESSIE.

The path led me along the bank of a river. It was the Yarra-Yarra.

As I moved onward, I began to perceive, that I had not been such a fool, after all, in having waited awhile for my companions. My long quiet reverie, in the shade of the tree, had refreshed me. I had escaped the hot sunshine; and I should now be able to reach my destination, during the cool hours of evening.

I did not wish to arrive at the station before Cannon: as I should require him to introduce me.

My solitary journey was altogether an agreeable one. The bright waters of the Yarra-Yarra flowed by my side, while the gentle breeze, as it came softly sighing through the peppermint-trees, fanned my brow.