CHAPTER I

Produced by Col Choat and Colin Beck

Production Notes: --Words in italics have been capitalised.

--45 illustrations appeared in the original text,

published in 1898. They have not been reproduced

in this etext. (See below for list)

--A HTML version of this etext is available from Project

Gutenberg which includes many of the illustrations

SPINIFEX AND SAND by DAVID W CARNEGIE (1871-1900)

A NARRATIVE OF FIVE YEARS' PIONEERING AND EXPLORATION

IN WESTERN AUSTRALIA

TO

MY MOTHER

INTRODUCTION

"An honest tale speeds best, being plainly told."

The following pages profess to be no more than a faithful narrative of

five years spent on the goldfields and in the far interior of Western

Australia. Any one looking for stirring adventures, hairbreadth escapes

from wild animals and men, will be disappointed. In the Australian Bush

the traveller has only Nature to war against--over him hangs always the

chance of death from thirst, and sometimes from the attacks of hostile

aboriginals; he has no spice of adventure, no record heads of rare game,

no exciting escapades with dangerous beasts, to spur him on; no beautiful

scenery, broad lakes, or winding rivers to make life pleasant for him.

The unbroken monotony of an arid, uninteresting country has to be faced.

Nature everywhere demands his toil. Unless he has within him impulses that

give him courage to go on, he will soon return; for he will find nothing

in his surroundings to act as an incentive to tempt him further.

I trust my readers will be able to glean a little knowledge of the

hardships and dangers that beset the paths of Australian pioneers, and

will learn something of the trials and difficulties encountered by a

prospector, recognising that he is often inspired by some higher feeling

than the mere "lust of gold."

Wherever possible, I have endeavoured to add interest to my own

experiences by recounting those of other travellers; and, by studying the

few books that touch upon such matters to explain any points in connection

with the aboriginals that from my own knowledge I am unable to do. I owe

several interesting details to the "Report on the Work of the Horn

Scientific Expedition to Central Australia," and to "Ethnological Studies

among the North-West Central Queensland Aboriginals," by Walter E. Roth.

For the identification of the few geological specimens brought in by me,

I am indebted to the Government Geologist of the Mines Department,

Perth, W.A., and to Mr. W. Botting Hemsley, through the courtesy of the

Director of the Royal Gardens, Kew, for the identification of the plants.

I also owe many thanks to my friend Mr. J. F. Cornish, who has taken so

much trouble in correcting the proofs of my MSS.

CONTENTS

PART I

EARLY DAYS IN COOLGARDIE

CHAPTER I EARLY DAYS IN THE COLONY

CHAPTER II "HARD UP"

CHAPTER III A MINER ON BAYLEY'S

PART II

FIRST PROSPECTING EXPEDITION

CHAPTER I THE RUSH TO KURNALPI--WE REACH QUEEN VICTORIA SPRING

CHAPTER II IN UNKNOWN COUNTRY

CHAPTER III FROM MOUNT SHENTON TO MOUNT MARGARET

PART III

SECOND PROSPECTING EXPEDITION

CHAPTER I THE JOYS OF PORTABLE CONDENSERS

CHAPTER II GRANITE ROCKS, "NAMMA HOLES," AND "SOAKS"

CHAPTER III A FRESH START

CHAPTER IV A CAMEL FIGHT

CHAPTER V GOLD AT LAKE DARLOT

CHATTER VI ALONE IN THE BUSH

CHAPTER VII SALE OF MINE

PART IV

MINING

CHAPTER I QUARTZ REEFING AND DRY-BLOWING

PART V

THE OUTWARD JOURNEY

CHAPTER I PREVIOUS EXPLORERS IN THE INTERIOR OF WESTERN AUSTRALIA

CHAPTER II MEMBERS AND EQUIPMENT OF EXPEDITION

CHAPTER III THE JOURNEY BEGINS

CHAPTER IV WE ENTER THE DESERT

CHAPTER V WATER AT LAST

CHAPTER VI WOODHOUSE LAGOON

CHAPTER VII THE GREAT UNDULATING DESERT OF GRAVEL

CHAPTER VIII A DESERT TRIBE

CHAPTER IX DR. LEICHARDT'S LOST EXPEDITION

CHAPTER X THE DESERT OF PARALLEL SAND-RIDGES

CHAPTER XI FROM FAMILY WELL TO HELENA SPRING

CHAPTER XII HELENA SPRING

CHAPTER XIII FROM HELENA SPRING TO THE SOUTHESK TABLELANDS.

CHAPTER XIV DEATH OF STANSMORE

CHAPTER XV WELLS EXPLORING EXPEDITION

CHAPTER XVI KIMBERLEY

CHAPTER XVII ABORIGINALS AT HALL'S CREEK

CHAPTER XVIII PREPARATIONS FOR THE RETURN JOURNEY

APPENDIX

TO PART V SOME NATIVE WEAPONS AND CEREMONIAL IMPLEMENTS

PART VI

THE JOURNEY HOME

CHAPTER I RETURN JOURNEY BEGINS

CHAPTER II STURT CREEK AND "GREGORY'S SALT SEA"

CHAPTER III OUR CAMP ON THE "SALT SEA"

CHAPTER IV DESERT ONCE MORE

CHAPTER V STANSMORE RANGE TO LAKE MACDONALD

CHAPTER VI LAKE MACDONALD TO THE DEEP ROCK-HOLES

CHAPTER VII THE LAST OF THE RIDGES OF DRIFT SAND

CHAPTER VIII WOODHOUSE LAGOON REVISITED

CHAPTER IX ACROSS LAKE WELLS TO LAKE DARLOT

CHAPTER X THE END OF THE EXPEDITION

APPENDIX

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

(45 illustrations appeared in the original text, published in 1898.

They have not been reproduced in this etext.)

HON. D. W. CARNEGIE

JARRAH FOREST, WEST AUSTRALIA

GENERAL STORE AND POST-OFFICE, COOLGARDIE, 1892

THE FIRST HOTEL AT COOLGARDIE

THE "GOLD ESCORT"

GRASS TREES, NEAR PERTH

DEATH OF "TOMMY"

FRESH MEAT AT LAST

BAYLEY STREET, COOLGARDIE, 1894

CONDENSING WATER ON A SALT LAKE

FEVER-STRICKEN AND ALONE

MINER'S RIGHT

TYPICAL SANDSTONE GORGE

CROSSING A SALT LAKE

ENTRANCE TO EMPRESS SPRING

AT WORK IN THE CAVE, EMPRESS SPRING

ALEXANDER SPRING

WOODHOUSE LAGOON

A BUCK AND HIS GINS IN CAMP AT FAMILY WELL

CRESTING A SAND-RIDGE

HELENA SPRING

THE ONLY SPECIMEN OF DESERT ARCHITECTURE

THE MAD BUCK

SOUTHESK TABLELANDS

A NATIVE HUNTING PARTY

PLAN OF SAND-RIDGES

EXAGGERATED SECTION OF THE SAND-RIDGES

CHARLES W. STANSMORE

NATIVE PREPARING FOR THE EMU DANCE

SPEARS

TOMAHAWKS

BOOMERANGS

CLUBS AND THROWING-STICKS

SHIELDS

QUARTZ KNIFE

CEREMONIAL STICKS

RAIN-MAKING BOARDS

MESSAGE STICKS

GROUP OF EXPLORERS

JUST IN TIME

A WILD ESCORT OF NEARLY ONE HUNDRED MEN

ESTABLISHING FRIENDLY RELATIONS

THE TAIL-END OF A MISERABLE CARAVAN

A KARRI TIMBER TRAIN

A PEARL SHELL STATION, BROOME, N.W. AUSTRALIA

* * * * * * * * * *

PART I EARLY DAYS IN COOLGARDIE

CHAPTER I

EARLY DAYS IN THE COLONY

In the month of September, 1892, Lord Percy Douglas (now Lord Douglas of

Hawick) and I, found ourselves steaming into King George's Sound--that

magnificent harbour on the south-west coast of Western Australia--building

castles in the air, discussing our prospects, and making rapid and vast

imaginary fortunes in the gold-mines of that newly-discovered land of

Ophir. Coolgardie, a district then unnamed, had been discovered, and

Arthur Bayley, a persevering and lucky prospector, had returned to

civilised parts from the "bush," his packhorses loaded with golden

specimens from the famous mine which bears his name. I suppose the

fortunate find of Bayley and his mate, Ford, has turned the course of

events in the lives of many tens of thousands of people, and yet, as he

jogged along the track from Gnarlbine Rock to Southern Cross, I daresay

his thoughts reverted to his own life, and the good time before him,

rather than to moralising on the probable effect of his discovery on

others.

We spent as little time as possible at Albany, or, I should say, made our

stay as short as was permitted, for in those days the convenience of the

passenger was thought little of, in comparison with the encouragement of

local industries, so that mails and travellers alike were forced to remain

at least one night in Albany by the arrangement of the train service,

greatly to the benefit of the hotel-keepers.

We were somewhat surprised to see the landlord's daughters waiting at

table. They were such tremendously smart and icy young ladies that at

first we were likely to mistake them for guests; and even when sure of

their identity we were too nervous to ask for anything so vulgar as a pot

of beer, or to expect them to change our plates.

Between Albany and Perth the country is not at all interesting being for

the most part flat, scrubby, and sandy, though here and there are rich

farming and agricultural districts. Arrived at Perth we found ourselves a

source of great interest to the inhabitants, inasmuch as we announced our

intention of making our way to the goldfields, while we had neither the

means nor apparently the capability of getting there. Though treated with

great hospitality, we found it almost impossible to get any information

or assistance, all our inquiries being answered by some scoffing remark,

such as, "Oh, you'll never get there!"

We attended a rather remarkable dinner--given in honour of the Boot, Shoe,

Harness, and Leather trade, at the invitation of a fellow-countryman in

the trade, and enjoyed ourselves immensely; speech-making and

toast-drinking being carried out in the extensive style so customary in

the West. Picture our surprise on receiving a bill for 10s. 6d. next

morning! Our friend of the dinner, kindly put at our disposal a hansom

cab which he owned, but this luxury we declined with thanks, fearing a

repetition of his "bill-by-invitation."

Owing to the extreme kindness of Mr. Robert Smith we were at last enabled

to get under way for the scene of the "rush." Disregarding the many offers

of men willing to guide us along a self-evident track, we started with one

riding and one packhorse each. These and the contents of the pack-bags

represented all our worldly possessions, but in this we might count

ourselves lucky, for many hundreds had to carry their belongings on their

backs--"humping their bluey," as the expression is.

Our road lay through Northam, and the several small farms and settlements

which extend some distance eastward. Very few used this track, the more

popular and direct route being through York, and thence along the

telegraph line to Southern Cross; and indeed we did pass through York,

which thriving little town we left at dusk, and, carrying out our

directions, rode along the telegraph line. Unfortunately we had not been

told that the line split up, one branch going to Northam and the other to

Southern Cross; as often happens in such cases, we took the wrong branch

and travelled well into the night before finding any habitation at which

we could get food and water.

The owner of the house where we finally stopped did not look upon our

visit with pleasure, as we had literally to break into the house before we

could attract any attention. Finding we were not burglars, and having

relieved himself by most vigorous and pictorial language (in the use of

which the teamsters and small farmers are almost without rivals) the owner

showed us his well, and did what he could to make us comfortable. I shall

never forget the great hospitality here along this road, though no doubt

as time went on the settlers could not afford to house hungry travellers

free of cost, and probably made a fair amount of money by selling

provisions and horse-feed to the hundreds of gold-fever patients who were

continually passing.

Southern Cross, which came into existence about the year '90, was a pretty

busy place, being the last outpost of civilisation at the time of our

first acquaintance with it. The now familiar corrugated-iron-built town,

with its streets inches deep in dust under a blazing sun, its incessant

swarms of flies, the clashing of the "stamps" on the mines, and the

general "never-never" appearance of the place, impressed us with feelings

the reverse of pleasant. The building that struck me most was the bank--a

small iron shanty with a hession partition dividing it into office and

living room, the latter a hopeless chaos of cards, candle ends, whiskey

bottles, blankets, safe keys, gold specimens, and cooking utensils. The

bank manager had evidently been entertaining a little party of friends the

previous night, and though its hours had passed, and a new day had dawned,

the party still continued. Since that time it has been my lot to witness

more than one such evening of festivity!

On leaving Southern Cross we travelled with another company of

adventurers, one of whom, Mr. Davies, an old Queensland squatter, was our

partner in several subsequent undertakings.

The monotony of the flat timber-clad country was occasionally relieved by

the occurrence of large isolated hills of bare granite. But for these the

road, except for camels, could never have been kept open; for they

represented our sources of water supply. On the surface of the rocks

numerous holes and indentations are found, which after rain, hold water,

and besides these, around the foot of the outcrops, "soaks," or shallow

wells, are to be found.

What scenes of bitter quarrels these watering-places have witnessed!

The selfish striving, each to help himself, the awful sufferings of man

and beast, horses and camels mad with thirst, and men cursing the country

and themselves, for wasting their lives and strength in it; but they have

witnessed many an act of kindness and self-denial too.

Where the now prosperous and busy town of Coolgardie stands, with its

stone and brick buildings, banks, hotels, and streets of shops, offices,

and dwelling-houses, with a population of some 15,000, at the time of

which I write there stood an open forest of eucalyptus dotted here and

there with the white tents and camps of diggers. A part of the timber had

already been cleared to admit of "dry-blowing" operations--a process

adopted for the separation of gold from alluvial soil in the waterless

parts of Australia.

Desperate hard work this, with the thermometer at 100 degrees in the

shade, with the "dishes" so hot that they had often to be put aside to

cool, with clouds of choking dust, a burning throat, and water at a

shilling to half a crown a gallon! Right enough for the lucky ones

"on gold," and for them not a life of ease! The poor devil with neither

money nor luck, who looked into each dishful of dirt for the wherewithal

to live, and found it not, was indeed scarcely to be envied.

Water at this time was carted by horse-teams in waggons with large tanks

on board, or by camel caravans, from a distance of thirty-six miles, drawn

from a well near a large granite rock. The supply was daily failing, and

washing was out of the question; enough to drink was all one thought of;

two lines of eager men on either side of the track could daily be seen

waiting for these water-carts. What a wild rush ensued when they were

sighted! In a moment they were surrounded and taken by storm, men swarming

on to them like an army of ants. As a rule, eager as we were for water,

a sort of order prevailed, and every man got his gallon water-bag filled

until the supply was exhausted. And generally the owner of the water

received due payment.

About Christmas-time the water-famine was at its height. Notices were

posted by order of the Warden, proclaiming that the road to or from

Coolgardie would soon be closed, as all wells were failing, and advising

men to go down in small parties, and not to rush the waters in a great

crowd. This advice was not taken, and daily scores of men left the

"field," and many were hard put to it to reach Southern Cross. It was a

cruel sight in those thirsty days to see the poor horses wandering about,

mere walking skeletons, deserted by their owners, for strangers were both

unable to give them water, and afraid to put them out of their misery lest

damages should be claimed against them. How long our own supplies would

last was eagerly discussed, as we gathered round the butcher's shop, the

great meeting-place, to which, in the evenings, most of the camp would

come to talk over the affairs of the day.

Postmaster, as well as butcher and storekeeper, was Mr. Benstead,

a kind-hearted, hard-working man, and a good friend to us in our early

struggles. What a wonderful post-office it was too! A proper match for the

so-called coach that brought the mails. A very dilapidated buckboard-buggy

drawn by equally dilapidated horses, used to do the journey from the

Southern Cross to the new fields very nearly as quickly as a loaded waggon

with eight or ten horses! The mail-coach used to carry not only letters,

papers, and gold on the return journey, but passengers, who served the

useful purposes of dragging the carriage through the sand and dust when

the horses collapsed, of hunting up the team in the mornings, and of

lightening the load by walking. For this exceedingly comfortable journey

they had the pleasure of paying at least five pounds. It was no uncommon

sight at some tank or rock on the road, to see the mail-coach standing

alone in its glory, deserted by driver and passengers alike. Of these some

would be horse-hunting, and the rest tramping ahead in hope of being

caught up by the coach. There would often be on board many hundred pounds'

worth of gold, sent down by the diggers to be banked, or forwarded to

their families; yet no instance of robbing the mail occurred. The sort of

gentry from whom bushrangers and thieves are made, had not yet found their

way to the rush.

Many banks were failing at that time, and men anxiously awaited the

arrival of news. The teamsters, with their heavy drays, would be eagerly

questioned as to where they had passed Her Majesty's mail, and as to the

probability of its arrival within the next week or so! The distribution of

letters did not follow this happy event with great rapidity. Volunteers

had to be called in to sort the delivery, the papers were thrown into a

heap in the road, and all anxious for news were politely requested to help

themselves. Several illustrated periodicals were regularly sent me from

home, as I learnt afterwards, but I never had the luck to drop across my

own paper!

On mail day, the date of which was most uncertain as the coach journeys

soon overlapped, there was always a lengthy, well-attended "roll-up" at

the Store. Here we first made acquaintance with Messrs. Browne and Lyon,

then negotiating for the purchase of Bayley's fabulous mine of gold.

No account of the richness of this claim at that time could be too

extravagant to be true; for surely such a solid mass of gold was never

seen before, as met the eye in the surface workings.

Messrs. Browne and Lyon had at their camp a small black-boy whom they

tried in vain to tame. He stood a good deal of misplaced kindness, and

even wore clothes without complaint; but he could not bear having his hair

cut, and so ran away to the bush. He belonged to the wandering tribe that

daily visited the camp--a tribe of wretched famine-stricken "blacks,"

whose natural hideousness and filthy appearance were intensified by the

dirty rags with which they made shift to cover their bodies. I should

never have conceived it possible that such living skeletons could exist.

Without begging from the diggers I fail to see how they could have lived,

for not a living thing was to be found in the bush, save an occasional

iguana and "bardies,*" and, as I have said, all known waters within

available distance of Coolgardie were dry, or nearly so.

[* "Bardies" are large white grubs--three or four inches long--which the

natives dig out from the roots of a certain shrub. When baked on

wood-ashes they are said to be excellent eating. The natives, however,

prefer them raw, and, having twisted off the heads, eat them with evident

relish.]

Benstead had managed to bring up a few sheep from the coast, which the

"gins," or women, used to tend. The native camp was near the

slaughter-yard, and it used to be an interesting and charming sight to see

these wild children of the wilderness, fighting with their mongrel dogs

for the possession of the offal thrown away by the butcher. If successful

in gaining this prize they were not long in disposing of it, cooking

evidently being considered a waste of time. A famished "black-fellow"

after a heavy meal used to remind me of pictures of the boa-constrictor

who has swallowed an ox, and is resting in satisfied peace to gorge.

The appeal of "Gib it damper" or "Gib it gabbi" (water), was seldom made

in vain, and hardly a day passed but what one was visited by these silent,

starving shadows. In appreciation no doubt of the kindness shown them,

some of the tribe volunteered to find "gabbi" for the white-fellow in the

roots of a certain gum-tree. Their offer was accepted, and soon a band of

unhappy-looking miners was seen returning. In their hands they carried

short pieces of the root, which they sucked vigorously; some got a little

moisture, and some did not, but however unequal their success in this

respect they were all alike in another, for every man vomited freely. This

means of obtaining a water supply never became popular. No doubt a little

moisture can be coaxed from the roots of certain gums, but it would seem

that it needs the stomach of a black-fellow to derive any benefit from it.

Though I cannot say that I studied the manners and customs of the

aboriginals at that time, the description, none the worse for being old,

given to savages of another land would fit them admirably--"Manners none,

customs beastly."

CHAPTER II

"HARD UP"

During that drought-stricken Christmas-time my mate was down at the

"Cross," trying to carry through some business by which our coffers might

be replenished; for work how we would on alluvial or quartz reefs, no gold

could we find. That we worked with a will, the remark made to me by an old

fossicker will go to show. After watching me "belting away" at a solid

mass of quartz for some time without speaking, "Which," said he, "is the

hammer-headed end of your pick?" Then shaking his head, "Ah! I could guess

you were a Scotchman--brute force and blind ignorance!" He then proceeded

to show me how to do twice the amount of work at half the expenditure of

labour. I never remember a real digger who was not ready to help one, both

with advice and in practice, and I never experienced that "greening" of

new chums which is a prominent feature of most novels that deal with

Australian life.

In the absence of Lord Douglas, an old horse-artilleryman, Richardson by

name, was my usual comrade. A splendid fellow he was too, and one of the

few to be rewarded for his dogged perseverance and work. In a pitiable

state the poor man was when first we met, half dead from dysentery, camped

all alone under a sheet of coarse calico. Emaciated from sickness, he was

unable to follow his horses, which had wandered in search of food and

water, though they constituted his only earthly possession. How he, and

many another I could mention, survived, I cannot think. But if a man

declines to die, and fights for life, he is hard to kill!

Amongst the prospectors it was customary for one mate to look after the

horses, and pack water to the others who worked. These men, of course,

knew several sources unknown to the general public. It was from one of

them that we learnt of the existence of a small soak some thirteen miles

from Coolgardie. Seeing no hope of rain, and no prospect of being able to

stop longer at Coolgardie, Mr. Davies, who camped near us, and I, decided

to make our way to this soak, and wait for better or worse times. Taking

the only horse which remained to us, and what few provisions we had, we

changed our residence from the dust-swept flats of Coolgardie to the

silent bush, where we set up a little hut of boughs, and awaited the

course of events. Sheltered from the sun's burning rays by our house, so

low that it could only be entered on hands and knees, for we had neither

time nor strength to build a spacious structure, and buoyed up by the

entrancement of reading "The Adventures of a Lady's Maid," kindly lent by

a fellow-digger, we did our best to spend a "Happy Christmas."

Somehow, the climate and surroundings seemed singularly inappropriate;

dust could not be transformed, even in imagination, into snow, nor heat

into frost, any more easily than we could turn dried apples into roast

beef and plum-pudding. Excellent food as dried fruit is, yet it is apt

to become monotonous when it must do duty for breakfast, dinner, and tea!

Such was our scanty fare; nevertheless we managed to keen up the

appearance of being quite festive and happy.

Having spread the table--that is, swept the floor clear of ants and other

homely insects--and laid out the feast, I rose to my knees and proposed

the health of my old friend and comrade Mr. Davies, wished him the

compliments of the season, and expressed a hope that we should never spend

a worse Christmas. The toast was received with cheers and honoured in weak

tea, brewed from the re-dried leaves of our last night's meal. He suitably

replied, and cordially endorsed my last sentiment. After duly honouring

the toasts of "The Ladies," "Absent Friends," and others befitting the

occasion, we fell to on the frugal feast.

For the benefit of thrifty housewives, as well as those whom poverty has

stricken, I respectfully recommend the following recipe. For dried apples:

Take a handful, chew slightly, swallow, fill up with warm water and wait.

Before long a feeling both grateful and comforting, as having dined not

wisely but too heavily, will steal over you. Repeat the dose for luncheon

and tea.

One or two other men were camped near us, and I have no doubt would have

willingly added to our slender store had they known to what short commons

we were reduced. Our discomforts were soon over, however, for Lord Douglas

hearing that I was in a starving condition, hastened from the "Cross," not

heeding the terrible accounts of the track, bringing with him a supply of

the staple food of the country, "Tinned Dog"--as canned provisions are

designated.

Wandering on from our little rock of refuge, we landed at the Twenty-five

Mile, where lately a rich reef had been found. We pegged out a claim on

which we worked, camped under the shade of a "Kurrajong" tree, close above

a large granite rock on which we depended for our water; and here we spent

several months busy on our reef, during which time Lord Douglas went home

to England, with financial schemes in his head, leaving Mr. Davies and

myself to hold the property and work as well as we could manage and I

fancy that for a couple of amateurs we did a considerable amount of

development.

Here we lived almost alone, with the exception of another small party

working the adjoining mine, occasionally visited by a prospector with

horses to water. Though glad of their company, it was not with unmixed

feelings that we viewed their arrival, for it took us all our time to get

sufficient water for ourselves. I well remember one occasion on which,

after a slight shower of rain, we, having no tank, scooped up the water we

could from the shallow holes, even using a sponge, such was our eagerness

not to waste a single drop; the water thus collected was emptied into a

large rock-hole, which we covered with flat stones. We then went to our

daily work on the reef, congratulating ourselves on the nice little

"plant" of water. Imagine our disgust, on returning in the evening, at

finding a mob of thirsty packhorses being watered from our precious

supply! There was nothing to be done but to pretend we liked it. The

water being on the rock was of course free to all.

How I used to envy those horsemen, and longed for the time when I could

afford horses or camels of my own, to go away back into the bush and just

see what was there. Many a day I spent poring over the map of the Colony,

longing and longing to push out into the vast blank spaces of the unknown.

Even at that time I planned out the expedition which at last I was enabled

to undertake, though all was very visionary, and I could hardly conceive

how I should ever manage to find the necessary ways and means.

Nearly every week I would ride into Coolgardie for stores, and walk out

again leading the loaded packhorse, our faithful little chestnut "brumby,"

i.e., half-wild pony, of which there are large herds running in the bush

near the settled parts of the coast. A splendid little fellow this, a true

type of his breed, fit for any amount of work and hardship. As often as

not he would do his journey into Coolgardie (twenty-five miles), be tied

up all night without a feed or drink--or as long as I had to spend there

on business--and return again loaded next morning. Chaff and oats were

then almost unprocurable, and however kind-hearted he might be, a poor

man could hardly afford a shilling a gallon to water his horse. On these

occasions I made my quarters at Bayley's mine, where a good solid meal and

the pleasant company of Messrs. Browne and Lyon always awaited me. Several

times in their generosity these good fellows spared a gallon or two of

precious water for the old pony.

They have a funny custom in the West of naming horses after their

owners--thus the chestnut is known to this day as "Little Carnegie."

Sometimes they are named after the men from whom they are bought. This

practice, when coach-horses are concerned, has its laughable side, and

passengers unacquainted with the custom may be astonished to hear all

sorts of oaths and curses, or words of entreaty and encouragement,

addressed to some well-known name--and they might be excused for thinking

the driver's mind was a little unhinged, or that in his troubles and

vexations he was calling on some prominent citizen, in the same way that

knights of old invoked their saints.

Thus, our peaceful life at the "Twenty-five" passed on, relieved sometimes

by the arrival of horsemen and others in search of water. Amongst our

occasional visitors was a well-known gentleman, bearing the proud title

of "The biggest liar in Australia." How far he deserved the distinction I

should hesitate to say, for men prone to exaggerate are not uncommon in

the bush. Sometimes, however, they must have the melancholy satisfaction

of knowing that they are disbelieved, when they really do happen to tell

the truth. A story of my friend's, which was received with incredulous

laughter, will exemplify this.

This was one of his experiences in Central Australia. He was perishing

from thirst, and, at the last gasp, he came to a clay-pan which, to his

despair, was quite dry and baked hard by the sun. He gave up all hope; not

so his black-boy, who, after examining the surface of the hard clay,

started to dig vigorously, shouting, "No more tumble down, plenty water

here!" Struggling to the side of his boy, he found that he had unearthed a

large frog blown out with water, with which they relieved their thirst.

Subsequent digging disclosed more frogs, from all of which so great a

supply of water was squeezed that not only he and his boy, but the horses

also were saved from a terrible death!

This story was received with laughter and jeers, and cries of

"Next please!" But to show that it had foundations of truth I may quote an

extract from "The Horn Scientific Expedition to Central Australia"

(part i. p. 21), in which we read the following:--

". . . The most interesting animal is the Burrowing or Waterholding Frog,

(CHIROLEPTES PLATYCEPHALUS). As the pools dry up it fills itself out with

water, which in some way passes through the walls of the alimentary

canal, filling up the body cavity, and swelling the animal out until it

looks like a small orange. In this condition it occupies a cavity just big

enough for the body, and simply goes to sleep. When, with the aid of a

native, we cut it out of its hiding-place, the animal at first remained

perfectly still, with its lower eyelids completely drawn over the eyes,

giving it the appearance of being blind, which indeed the black assured

us that it was. . . ."

Most travellers cannot fail to have noticed how clay-pans recently filled

by rain, even after a prolonged drought, swarm with tadpoles and

full-grown frogs and numberless water insects, the presence of which must

only be explained by the ability of the frog to store his supply in his

own body, and the fact that the eggs of the insects require moisture

before they can hatch out.

Many a laugh we had round the camp-fire at night, and many are the yarns

that were spun. Few, however, were of sufficient interest to live in my

memory, and I fear that most of them would lose their points in becoming

fit for publication. "Gold," naturally, was the chief topic of

conversation, especially amongst the older diggers, who love to tell one

in detail how many ounces they got in one place and how many in another,

until one feels that surely they must be either millionaires or liars.

New rushes, and supposed new rushes, were eagerly discussed; men were

often passing and repassing our rock, looking for somebody who was

"on gold"--for the majority of prospectors seldom push out for themselves,

but prefer following up some man or party supposed to have "struck it

rich."

The rumours of a new find so long bandied about at length came true.

Billy Frost had found a thousand! two thousand!! three thousand

ounces!!!--who knew or cared?--on the margin of a large salt lake some

ninety miles north of Coolgardie. Frost has since told me that about

twelve ounces of gold was all he found, And, after all, there is not much

difference between twelve and three thousand--that is on a mining field.

Before long the solitude of our camp was disturbed by the constant passing

of travellers to and from this newly discovered "Ninety Mile"--so named

from its distance from Coolgardie.

As a fact, this mining camp (now known as the town of Goongarr) is only

sixty odd miles from the capital, measured by survey, but in early days,

distances were reckoned by rate of travel, and roads and tracks twisted

and turned in a most distressing manner, sometimes deviating for water,

but more often because the first maker of the track had been riding along

carelessly, every now and then turning sharp back to his proper course.

Subsequent horse or camel men, having only a vague knowledge of the

direction of their destination, would be bound to follow the first tracks;

after these would come light buggies, spring-carts, drays, and heavy

waggons, until finally a deeply rutted and well-worn serpentine road

through the forest or scrub was formed, to be straightened in course of

time, as observant travellers cut off corners, and later by Government

surveyors and road-makers.

Prospectors were gradually "poking out," gold being found in all

directions in greater or less degree; but it was not until June, 1893,

that any find was made of more than passing interest. Curiously, this

great goldfield of Hannan's (now called Kalgoorlie) was found by the

veriest chance. Patrick Hannan, like many others, had joined in a

wild-goose chase to locate a supposed rush at Mount Yule--a mountain the

height and importance of which may be judged from the fact that no one was

able to find it! On going out one morning to hunt up his horses, he

chanced on a nugget of gold. In the course of five years this little

nugget has transformed the silent bush into a populous town of 2,000

inhabitants, with its churches, clubs, hotels, and streets of offices and

shops, surrounded by rich mines, and reminded of the cause of its

existence by the ceaseless crashing of mills and stamps, grinding out gold

at the rate of nearly 80,000 oz. per mouth.

Arriving one Sunday morning from our camp at the "Twenty-five," I was

astonished to find Coolgardie almost deserted, not even the usual "Sunday

School" going on. Now I am sorry to disappoint my readers who are not

conversant with miners' slang, but they must not picture rows of good

little children sitting in the shade of the gum-trees, to whom some

kind-hearted digger is expounding the Scriptures. No indeed! The miners'

school is neither more nor less than a largely attended game of

pitch-and-toss, at which sometimes hundreds of pounds in gold or notes

change hands. I remember one old man who had only one shilling between him

and the grave, so he told me. He could not decide whether to invest his

last coin in a gallon of water or in the "heading-school." He chose the

latter and lost . . . subsequently I saw him lying peacefully drunk under

a tree! I doubt if his intention had been suicide, but had it been he

could hardly have chosen a more deadly weapon than the whiskey of those

days.

The "rush to Hannan's" had depopulated Coolgardie and the next day saw

Davies and myself amongst an eager train of travellers bound for the new

site of fortune. "Little Carnegie" was harnessed to a small cart, which

carried our provisions and tools. The commissariat department was easily

attended to, as nothing was obtainable but biscuits and tinned soup. It

was now mid-winter, and nights were often bitterly cold. Without tent or

fly, and with hardly a blanket between us, we used to lie shivering at

night.

A slight rain had fallen, insufficient to leave much water about, and yet

enough to so moisten the soil as to make dry-blowing impossible in the

ordinary way. Fires had to be built and kept going all night, piled up on

heaps of alluvial soil dug out during the day. In the morning these heaps

would be dry enough to treat, and ashes and earth were dry-blown

together--the pleasures of the ordinary process being intensified by the

addition of clouds of ashes.

A strange appearance these fires had, dotted through the brush, lighting

up now a tent, now a water-cart, now a camp of fortunate ones lying cosily

under their canvas roof, now a set of poor devils with hardly a rag to

their backs. Oh glorious uncertainty of mining! One of these very poor

devils that I have in my mind has now a considerable fortune, with rooms

in a fashionable quarter of London, and in frock-coat and tall hat

"swells" it with the best!

How quickly men change to be sure! A man who at one time would "steal the

shirt off a dead black-fellow," in a few short months is complaining of

the taste of his wine or the fit of his patent-leather boots. Dame Fortune

was good to some, but to us, like many others, she turned a deaf ear, and

after many weeks' toil we had to give up the battle, for neither food,

money, nor gold had we. All I possessed was the pony, and from that old

friend I could not part. The fruits of our labours, or I should say my

share in them, I sent home in a letter, and the few pin's-heads of gold

so sent did not necessitate any extra postage. Weary and toil-worn we

returned to Coolgardie, and the partners of some rather remarkable

experiences split company, and went each his own way.

It is several years since I have seen Mr. Davies; but I believe Fortune's

wheel turned round for him at length, and that now he enjoys the rest that

his years and toils entitle him to. I have many kindly recollections of

our camping days together, and of the numerous yarns my mate used to spin

of his palmy days as a Queensland squatter.

CHAPTER III

A MINER ON BAYLEY'S

Returned from the rush, I made my way to Bayley's to seek employment for

my pony and his master. Nor did I seek in vain, for I was duly entered on

the pay-sheet as "surface hand" at 3 pounds 10 shillings per week, with

water at the rate of one gallon per day. Here I first made the

acquaintance of Godfrey Massie, a cousin of the Brownes, who, like me,

had been forced by want of luck to work for wages, and who, by the way,

had carried his "swag" on his back from York to the goldfields, a distance

of nearly 300 miles. He and I were the first amateurs to get a job on the

great Reward Claim, though subsequently it became a regular harbour of

refuge for young men crowded out from the banks and offices of Sydney and

Melbourne. Nothing but a fabulously rich mine could have stood the

tinkering of so many unprofessional miners. It speaks well for the

kindness of heart of those at the head of the management of the mine that

they were willing to trust the unearthing of so much treasure to the hands

of boys unused to manual work, or to work of any kind in a great many

cases.

How rich the mine was, may be judged from the fact that for the first few

months the enormous production of gold from it was due to the labours of

three of the shareholders, assisted by only two other men. The following

letter from Mr. Everard Browne to Lord Douglas gives some idea of what the

yield was at the time that I went there to work:--

"I am just taking 4,200 oz, over to Melbourne from our reef (Bayley's).

This makes 10,000 oz. we have brought down from our reef without a

battery, or machinery equal to treating 200 lbs. of stone per day; that is

a bit of a record for you! We have got water in our shaft at 137 feet,

enough to run a battery, and we shall have one on the ground in three

months' time or under, Egan dollied out 1,000 oz, in a little over two

months, before I came down, from his reef; and Cashman dollied 700 oz. out

of his in about three weeks and had one stone 10 lbs. weight with 9 lbs.

of gold in it, so we are not the only successful reefers since you left.

I hope you will soon be with us again.

"If you are speaking about this 10,000 oz. we have taken out of our reef

in six months, remember that Bayley and Ford dollied out 2,500 oz. for

themselves before they handed it over to us on February 27th last, so that

actually 12,500 oz. have been taken out of the claim, without a battery,

in under nine months. The shoot of gold is now proved over 100 feet long

on the course of the reef, and we were down 52 feet in our shaft on the

reef, with as good gold as ever at the bottom. The other shaft, which we

have got water in, is in the country (a downright shaft). We expect to

meet the reef in it at 170 feet."

Besides Massie, myself, and Tom Cue, there were not then many employed,

and really we used to have rather an enjoyable time than otherwise.

Working regular hours, eight hours on and sixteen off, sometimes on the

surface, sometimes below, with hammer and drill, or pick and shovel,

always amongst glittering gold, was by no means unpleasant. It would

certainly have been better still had we been able to keep what we found,

but the next best thing to being successful is to see those one is fond

of, pile up their banking account; and I have had few better friends than

the resident shareholders on Bayley's Reward.

What good fellows, too, were the professional miners, always ready to help

one and make the time pass pleasantly. Big Jim Breen was my mate for some

time, and many a pleasant talk and smoke (Smoke, O! is a recognised rest

from work at intervals during a miner's shift) we have had at the bottom

of a shaft, thirty to fifty feet from the surface! I really think that

having to get out of a nice warm bed or tent for night shift, viz., from

midnight to 8 a.m., was the most unpleasant part of my life as a miner.

As recreation we used to play occasional games of cricket on a very hard

and uneven pitch, and for social entertainments had frequent sing-songs

and "buck dances"--that is, dances in which there were no ladies to take

part--at Faahan's Club Hotel in the town, some one and a half miles

distant. "Hotel" was rather too high-class a name, for it was by no means

an imposing structure, hessian and corrugated iron taking the place of the

bricks and slates of a more civilised building. The addition of a

weather-board front, which was subsequently erected, greatly enhanced its

attractions. Mr. Faahan can boast of having had the first two-storeyed

house in the town; though the too critical might hold that the upper one,

being merely a sham, could not be counted as dwelling-room. There was no

sham, however, about the festive character of those evening

entertainments.

Thus time went on, the only change in my circumstances resulting from my

promotion to engine-driver--for now the Reward Claim boasted a small

crushing plant--and Spring came, and with it in November the disastrous

rush to "Siberia." This name, like most others on the goldfields, may be

traced to the wit of some disappointed digger.

The rush was a failure or "frost," and so great a one that "Siberia" was

the only word adequately to express the chagrin of the men who hoped so

much from its discovery. Being one of these myself, I can cordially

endorse the appropriateness of the name. What a motley crowd of eager

faces throngs the streets and camp on the first news of a new rush--every

one anxious to be off and be the first to make his fortune--every man

questioning his neighbour, who knows no more than himself, about distances

and direction, where the nearest water may be, and all manner of similar

queries.

Once clear of the town, what a strange collection of baggage animals,

horses, camels, and donkeys! What a mass of carts, drays, buggies,

wheelbarrows, handbarrows, and many queer makeshifts for carrying

goods--the strangest of all a large barrel set on an axle, and dragged or

shoved by means of two long handles, the proud possessor's belongings

turning round and round inside until they must surely be churned into a

most confusing jumble. Then we see the "Swagman" with his load on his

back, perhaps fifty pounds of provisions rolled up in his blankets, with a

pick and shovel strapped on them, and in either hand a gallon bag of

water. No light work this with the thermometer standing at 100 degrees in

the shade, and the track inches deep in fine, powdery dust; and yet men

start off with a light heart, with perhaps, a two hundred mile journey

before them, replenishing their bundles as they pass through camps on

their road.

"Siberia" was said to be seventy miles of a dry stage, and yet off we all

started, as happy as kings at the chance of mending our fortunes.

Poor Crossman (since dead), McCulloch, and I were mates, and we were well

off, for we had not only "Little Carnegie," and who, like his master, had

been earning his living at Bayley's, but a camel, "Bungo" by name, kindly

lent by Gordon Lyon. Thus we were able to carry water as well as

provisions, and helped to relieve the sufferings of many a poor wretch who

had only his feet to serve him.

The story of Siberia may be soon told. Hundreds "rushed" over this dry

stage, at the end of which a small and doubtful water supply was

obtainable. When this supply gave out fresh arrivals had to do their best

without it, the rush perforce had to set back again, privations, disaster,

and suffering being the only result. Much was said and written at the time

about the scores of dead and dying men and horses who lined the

roads--roads because there were two routes to the new field. There may

have been deaths on the other track, but I know that we saw none on ours.

Men in sore straits, with swollen tongues and bleeding feet, we saw, and,

happily, were able to relieve; and I am sure that many would have died but

for the prompt aid rendered by the Government Water Supply Department,

which despatched drays loaded with tanks of water to succour the suffering

miners. So the fortunes, to be made at Siberia, had again to be postponed.

Shortly after our return to Coolgardie a "gold escort" left Bayley's for

the coast, and as a guardian of the precious freight I travelled down to

Perth. There was no Government escort at that time, and any lucky

possessor of gold had to carry it to the capital as best he could.

With four spanking horses, Gordon Lyon as driver, three men with him on

the express-waggon, an outrider behind and in front, all armed with

repeating rifles, we rattled down the road, perhaps secretly wishing that

someone would be venturesome enough to attempt to "stick us up." No such

stirring event occurred, however, and we reached the head of the then

partially constructed line, and there took train for Perth, where I

eagerly awaited the arrival of my old friend and companion, Percy Douglas.

He meanwhile had had his battles to fight in the financial world, and had

come out to all appearances on top, having been instrumental in forming an

important mining company from which we expected great things.

PART II FIRST PROSPECTING EXPEDITION

CHAPTER I

THE RUSH TO KURNALPI--WE REACH QUEEN VICTORIA SPRING

Shortly after Lord Douglas's return, I took the train to York, where

"Little Carnegie," who had formed one of the team to draw the gold-laden

express waggon from Bayley's to the head of the railway line, was running

in one of Mr. Monger's paddocks. The Mongers are the kings of York, an

agricultural town, and own much property thereabouts. York and its

surroundings in the winter-time might, except for the corrugated-iron

roofs, easily be in England. Many of the houses are built of stone, and

enclosed in vineyards and fruit gardens. The Mongers' house was quite

after the English style, so also was their hospitality. From York I rode

along the old track to Southern Cross, and a lonely ride I had, for the

train had superseded the old methods of travel, much to the disgust of

some of the "cockies," or small farmers, who expressed the opinion that

the country was going to the dogs, "them blooming railways were spoiling

everything"; the reason for their complaint being, that formerly, all the

carrying had been in the teamsters' hands, as well as a considerable

amount of passenger traffic.

I had one or two "sells" on the road, for former stopping-places were now

deserted, and wells had been neglected, making it impossible, from their

depth, for me to get any water. I was fortunate in falling in with a

teamster and his waggon--a typical one of his class; on first sight they

are the most uncouth and foul-tongued men that it is possible to imagine.

But on further acquaintance one finds that the language is as superficial

as the dirt with which they cannot fail to be covered, since they are

always walking in a cloud of dust. My friend on this occasion was

apostrophising his horses with oaths that made my flesh creep, to help

them up a steep hill. The top reached, he petted and soothed his team in

most quaint language. At the bottom of the slope he was a demon of

cruelty, at its summit a kind-hearted human being! I lunched with him,

sitting under his waggon for shade, and found him most entertaining--nor

was the old pony neglected, for he was given a fine feed of chaff and

oats.

In due time I reached Coolgardie, where Lord Douglas and our new partner,

Mr. Driffield (since drowned in a boating accident on the Swan River),

joined me. They had engaged the services of one Luck and his camels, and

had ridden up from the Cross. The rush to Kurnalpi had just broken out,

so Driffield, Luck, and I joined the crowd of fortune-hunters; and a

queer-looking crowd they were too, for every third or fourth swagman

carried on his shoulder a small portable condenser, the boiler hanging

behind him and the cooler in front; every party, whether with horses,

carts, or camels, carried condensers of one shape or another; for the

month was January, no surface water existed on the track, and only salt

water could be obtained, by digging in the salt lakes which the road

passed. The nearest water to the scene of the rush was a salt lake seven

miles distant, and this at night presented a strange appearance.

Condensers of every size and capacity fringed the two shores of a narrow

channel; under each was a fire, and round each all night long could be

seen figures, stoking the burning wood or drawing water, and in the

distance the sound of the axe could be heard, for at whatever time a party

arrived they had forthwith to set about "cooking water." The clattering

and hammering the incessant talking, and the figures flitting about in the

glare, reminded one of a crowded open-air market with flaring lamps and

frequent coffee stalls. Kurnalpi was known at first as "Billy-Billy," or

as "The Tinker's Rush"--the first name was supposed by some to be of

native origin, by others to indicate the amount of tin used in the

condensing plants--"Billy," translated for those to whom the bush is

unfamiliar, meaning a tin pot for boiling tea in, and other such uses.

Certainly there was plenty of tin at Kurnalpi, and plenty of alluvial gold

as well for the lucky ones--amongst which we were not numbered. Poor

Driffield was much disgusted; he had looked upon gold-finding as the

simplest thing in the world--and so it is if you happen to look in the

right place! and when you do so it's a hundred to one that you think your

own cleverness and knowledge guided you to it! Chance? Oh dear, no! From

that time forth your reputation is made as "a shrewd fellow who knows a

thing or two"; and if your find was made in a mine, you are an "expert"

at once, and can command a price for your report on other mines

commensurate with the richness of your own!

As the gold would not come to us, and my partner disliked the labour of

seeking it, we returned to Coolgardie, and set about looking after the

mines we already had. Financial schemes or business never had any charms

for me; when therefore I heard that the Company had cabled out that a

prospecting party should be despatched at once, I eagerly availed myself

of the chance of work so much to my taste. As speed was an object, and

neither camels nor men procurable owing to the rush, we did not waste any

time in trying to form a large expedition, such as the soul of the London

director loveth, but contented ourselves with the camels already to hand.

On March 24, 1894, we started; Luck, myself, and three camels--Omerod,

Shimsha, and Jenny by name--with rations for three months, and

instructions to prospect the Hampton Plains as far as the supply of

surface water permitted; failing a long stay in that region I could go

where I thought best.

To the east and north-east of Coolgardie lie what are known as the Hampton

Plains--so named by Captain Hunt, who in 1864 led an expedition past York,

eastward, into the interior. Beyond the Hampton Plains he was forced back

by the Desert, and returned to York with but a sorry tale of the country

he had seen. "An endless sea of scrub," was his apt description of the

greater part of the country. Compared to the rest, the Hampton Plains were

splendid pastoral lands. Curiously enough, Hunt passed and repassed close

to what is now Coolgardie, and, though reporting quartz and ironstone,

failed to hit upon any gold. Nor was he the only one; Coolgardie had

several narrow squeaks of being found out.

Giles and Forrest both traversed districts since found to be gold-bearing,

and though, like Hunt, reporting, and even bringing back specimens of

quartz and ironstone, had the bad luck to miss finding even a "colour."

Alexander Forrest, Goddard, and Lindsay all passed within appreciable

distance of Coolgardie without unearthing its treasures, though in

Lindsay's journal the geologist to the expedition pronounced the country

auriferous. When we come to consider how many prospectors pass over gold,

it is not so wonderful that explorers, whose business is to see as much

country as they can, in as short a time as possible, should have failed to

drop on the hidden wealth.

Bayley and Ford, its first discoverers, were by no means the first

prospectors to camp at Coolgardie. In 1888 Anstey and party actually found

colours of gold, and pegged out a claim, whose corner posts were standing

at the time of the first rush; but nobody heeded them, for the quartz was

not rich enough.

In after years George Withers sunk a hole and "dry blew" the wash not very

far from Bayley's, yet he discovered no gold. Macpherson, too, poked out

beyond Coolgardie, and nearly lost his life in returning, and, indeed, was

saved by his black-boy, who held him on the only remaining horse.

Other instances could be given, all of which show that Nature will not be

bustled, and will only divulge her secrets when the ordained time has

arrived. It has been argued that since Giles, for example, passed the

Coolgardie district without finding gold, therefore there is every

probability of the rest of the country through which he passed being

auriferous. It fails to occur to those holding this view, that a man may

recognise possible gold-bearing country without finding gold, or to read

the journals of these early travellers, in which they would see that the

Desert is plainly demarcated, and the change in the nature of the country,

the occurrence of quartz, and so forth, always recorded. These folk who so

narrowly missed the gold were not the only unfortunate ones; those

responsible for the choosing for their company of the blocks of land on

the Hampton Mains were remarkably near securing all the plums.

Bayley's is one and a half miles from their boundary, Kalgoorlie twelve

miles, Kurnalpi seven miles, and a number of other places lie just on the

wrong side of the survey line to please the shareholders, though had all

these rich districts been found on their land, I fancy there would have

been a pretty outcry from the general public.

At the time of which I am writing this land was considered likely to be as

rich as Ophir. Luck and I were expected to trip up over nuggets, and come

back simply impregnated with gold. Unfortunately we not only found no

gold, but formed a very poor idea of that part of the property which we

were able to traverse, though, given a good supply of water, it should

prove valuable stock country. Before we had been very long started on our

journey we met numerous parties returning from that region, though legally

they had no right to prospect there; each told us the same story--every

water was dry; and since every one we had been to was all but dry, we

concluded that they were speaking the truth; so when we arrived at Yindi,

a large granite rock with a cavity capable of holding some twenty

thousand gallons of water, and found Yindi dry, we decided to leave the

Hampton Plains and push out into new country.

Queen Victoria Spring, reported permanent by Giles, lay some seventy

miles to the eastward, and attracted our attention; for Lindsay had

reported quartz country near the Ponton, not far from the Spring, and the

country directly between the Spring and Kurnalpi was unknown.

On April 15th we left Yindi, having seen the last water twenty-six miles

back near Gundockerta, and passed Mount Quinn, entering a dense thicket of

mulga, which lasted for the next twenty miles. It was most awkward country

to steer through, and I often overheard Luck muttering to himself that I

was going all wrong, for he was a first-rate bushman and I a novice. I had

bought a little brumby from a man we met on the Plains, an excellent pony,

and most handy in winding his way through the scrub. Luck rode Jenny and

led the other two camels. Hereabouts we noticed a large number of old

brush fences--curiously I have never once seen a new one--which the

natives had set up for catching wallabies. The fences run out in long

wings, which meet in a point where a hole is dug. Neither wallabies nor

natives were to be seen, though occasionally we noticed where "bardies"

had been dug out, and a little further on a native grave, a hole about

three feet square by three feet deep, lined at the bottom with gum leaves

and strips of bark, evidently ready to receive the deceased. Luck, who

knew a good deal about native customs, told me that the grave, though

apparently only large enough for a child, was really destined for a grown

man. When a man dies his first finger is cut off, because he must not

fight in the next world, nor need he throw a spear to slay animals, as

game is supplied. The body is then bent double until the knees touch the

chin--this to represent a baby before birth; and in this cramped position

the late warrior is crammed into his grave, until, according to a

semi-civilised boy that I knew, he is called to the happy hunting grounds,

where he changes colour! "Black fella tumble down, jump up white fella."

A clear proof that this benighted people have some conception of a better

state hereafter.

Once through the scrub, we came again into gum-timbered country, and when

fifty miles east of Kurnalpi crossed a narrow belt of auriferous country,

but, failing to find water, were unable to stop. In a few miles we were in

desert country--undulations of sand and spinifex, with frequent clumps of

dense mallee, a species of eucalyptus, with several straggling stems

growing from one root, and little foliage except at the ends of the

branches, an untidy and melancholy-looking tree. There was no change in

the country till after noon on the 18th, when we noticed some grass-trees,

or black-boys, smaller than those seen near the coast, and presently

struck the outskirts of a little oasis, and immediately after an old camel

pad (Lindsay's in 1892, formed by a caravan of over fifty animals), which

we followed for a few minutes, until the welcome sight of Queen Victoria

Spring met our eyes. A most remarkable spot, and one that cannot be better

described than by quoting the words of its discoverer, Ernest Giles,

in 1875, who, with a party of five companions, fifteen pack, and seven

riding camels, happened on this spring just when they most needed water.

Giles says of it:--

"It is the most singularly placed water I have ever seen, lying in a small

hollow in the centre of a little grassy flat and surrounded by clumps of

funereal pines. . . . The water is no doubt permanent, for it is supplied

by the drainage of the sandhills which surround it and it rests on a

substratum of impervious clay. It lies exposed to view in a small, open

basin, the water being about only one hundred and fifty yards in

circumference and from two to three feet deep. Further up the slopes at

much higher levels native wells had been sunk in all directions--in each

and all of these there was water. Beyond the immediate precincts of this

open space the scrubs abound. . . . Before I leave this spot I had perhaps

better remark that it might prove a very difficult, perhaps dangerous,

place to any other traveller to attempt to find, because although there

are many white sandhills in the neighbourhood, the open space on which

the water lies is so small in area and so closely surrounded by scrubs,

that it cannot be seen from any conspicuous one, nor can any conspicuous

sandhill, distinguishable at any distance, be seen from it. On the top of

the banks above the wells was a beaten corroboree path, where the denizens

of the desert have often held their feasts and dances. Some grass-trees

grew in the vicinity of this spring to a height of over twenty

feet. . . ."

A charming spot indeed! but we found it to be hardly so cheerful as this

description would lead one to expect. For at first sight the Spring was

dry. The pool of water was now a dry clay-pan; the numerous native wells

were there, but all were dry. The prospect was sufficiently gloomy, for

our water was all but done, and poor Tommy, the pony, in spite of an

allowance of a billy-full per night, was in a very bad way, for we had

travelled nearly one hundred miles from the last water, and if this was

dry we knew no other that we could reach. However, we were not going to

cry before we were hurt and set to work to dig out the soak, and in a

short time were rewarded by the sight of water trickling in on all sides,

and, by roughly timbering the sides, soon had a most serviceable well--a

state of affairs greatly appreciated by Tommy and the camels. This spring

or soakage, whichever it may be, is in black sand, though the sand outside

the little basin is yellowish white. From what I have heard and read of

them it must be something of the nature of what are called "black soil

springs." Giles was right in his description of its remarkable

surroundings--unless we had marched right into the oasis, we should

perhaps have missed it altogether, for it was unlikely that Lindsay's

camel tracks would be visible except where sheltered from the wind by the

trees; and our only instruments for navigation were a prismatic and pocket

compass, and a watch for rating our travel. I was greatly pleased at such

successful steering for a first attempt of any distance, and Luck was as

pleased as I was, for to him I owed many useful hints. Yet I was not blind

to the fact that it was a wonderful piece of luck to strike exactly a

small spot of no more than fifty acres in extent, hidden in the valleys of

the sandhills, from whose summits nothing could be seen but similar mounds

of white sand. Amongst the white gum trees we found one marked with

Lindsay's initials with date. Under this I nailed on a piece of tin, on

which I had stamped our names and date. Probably the blacks have long

since taken this down and used it as an ornament. Another tree, a pine,

was marked W. Blake; who he was I do not know, unless one of Lindsay's

party. Not far off was a grave, more like that of a white man than of a

native; about its history, too, I am ignorant.

Numerous old native camps surrounded the water, and many weapons, spears,

waddies, and coolimans were lying about. The camps had not been occupied

for some long time. In the scrub we came on a cleared space, some eighty

yards long and ten to twelve feet wide. At each end were heaps of ashes,

and down the middle ran a well-beaten path, and a similar one on either

side not unlike an old dray track. Evidently a corroboree ground of some

kind. From Luck I learnt that north of Eucla, where he had been with a

survey party, the natives used such grounds in their initiation

ceremonies. A youth on arriving at a certain age may become a warrior,

and is then allowed to carry a shield and spear. Before he can attain this

honour he must submit to some very horrible rites--which are best left

undescribed. Seizing each an arm of the victim, two stalwart "bucks"

(as the men are called) run him up and down the cleared space until they

are out of breath; then two more take places, and up and down they go

until at last the boy is exhausted. This is the aboriginal method of

applying anaesthetics. During the operations that follow, the men dance

and yell round the fires but the women may not be witnesses of the

ceremony. Tribes from all neighbouring districts meet at such times and

hold high revel. Evidently Queen Victoria Spring is a favourite

meeting-place. I regret that I never had the chance of being present at

such a gathering--few white men have. For except in thickly populated

districts the ceremonies are rare; the natives are very ready to resent

any prying into their mysteries, and Luck only managed it at some risk to

himself. Whilst camped at the Spring we made one or two short excursions

to the southward, but met with little encouragement. On turning our

attention to the opposite direction we found that nearly two hundred miles

due north a tract of auriferous country was marked on the map of the Elder

Expedition. Between us and that point, the country was unmapped and

untrodden except by black-fellows, and it seemed reasonable to suppose

that since the belts of country run more or less north and south we had

a fair chance of finding gold-bearing country extending southward. We

should be getting a long way from Coolgardie, but if a rich company could

not afford to open up the country, who could? To the east we knew that

desert existed, to the south the country was known, and to return the way

we had come would be only a waste of time. So we decided on the northern

course, and chose Mount Shenton, near which a soakage was marked, as our

objective point. We were not well equipped for a long march in new

country, since we had few camels and scanty facilities for carrying water.

By setting to work with the needle we soon had two canvas water-bags made;

Luck, who had served in the French navy, like all sailors, was a very

handy man in a camp, and could of course sew well, and gave me useful

lessons in the handling of a sail-needle.

CHAPTER II

IN UNKNOWN COUNTRY

On April 22nd we left the spring, steering due north--carrying in all

thirty-five gallons of water, though this supply was very perceptibly

reduced by evening, owing to the canvas being new; loss by evaporation was

lessened by covering the bags with a fly (a sheet of coarse calico). The

class of country we encountered the first and second day can stand for the

rest of the march. Spinifex plains, undulating sand-plains, rolling

sandhills, steep sand-ridges, mallee scrubs, desert-gum forests, and dense

thickets of mulga. The last were most unpleasant to travel through; for

as we wound our way, one walking ahead to break down the branches, the

other leading the camels, and Tommy following behind, every now and again

the water-camel banged his precious load against a tree; and we walked

with the constant risk of a dead branch ripping the canvas and letting

out the water.

On the second evening, in passing through a mallee scrub, we came on a

small tract of "kopi country" (powdered gypsum). Here were numerous old

native tracks, and we could see where the mallee roots had been dragged

up, broken into short pieces, presumably sucked or allowed to drain into

some vessel, and stacked in little heaps. Though we knew that the blacks

do get water from the mallee roots, and though we were in a spot where it

was clear they had done so perhaps a month before, yet our attempts at

water-finding were futile. This kopi is peculiar soil to walk over; on the

surface there is a hard crust--once through this, one sinks nearly to the

knee; the camels of course, from their weight, go much lower.

On the night of the 23rd, we gave Tommy two gallons of water--not much of

a drink, but enough to make him tackle the mulga, and spinifex-tops, the

only available feed; none but West Australian brumbies could live on such

fare, and they will eat anything, like donkeys or goats. On the 24th there

was no change, a few quondongs affording a meal for the camels.

The next day we crossed more old native tracks and followed them for some

time without any sign of water being near. More tracks the following day,

fresher this time; but though doubtless there was water at the end of

them, for several reasons we did not follow them far: first, they were

leading south-west and we wished to go north; second, the quantity of

mallee root heaps, suggested the possibility that the natives could obtain

from them sufficient moisture to live upon. I think now that this is most

unlikely, and that roots are only resorted to when travelling or in time

of great need. However, at that time we were inclined to think it

probable, and though we might have sucked roots in place of a drink of tea

or water, such a source of supply was absolutely valueless to the camels

and pony.

On the 27th we sighted a hill dead ahead, which I named Mount Luck, and on

the southern side a nice little plain of saltbush and grass--a pleasant

and welcome change. Mount Luck is sheer on its south and east sides and

slopes gradually to the north-west; it is of desert sandstone, and from

its summit, nearly due east, can be seen an imposing flat-topped hill,

which I named Mount Douglas, after my old friend and companion, to the

north of this hill two quaint little pinnacles stand up above the scrub to

a considerable height.

Poor Tommy was now getting very weak and had to be dragged by the last

camel. I had not ridden him since the second day from the Spring; he was

famished and worn to a skeleton. His allowance of two gallons a night had

continued, which made a considerable hole in our supply, further

diminished by the necessity of giving him damper to eat. Poor little pony!

It was a cruel sight to see him wandering from pack to pack in camp,

poking his nose into every possible opening, and even butting us with his

head as if to call attention to his dreadful state, which was only too

apparent. "While there's life there's hope," and every day took us nearer

to water--that is if we were to get any at all! So long as we could do so,

we must take Tommy with us, who might yet be saved. This, however, was not

to be, for on the 28th we again encountered sand-ridges, running at right

angles to our course, and these proved too hard for the poor brave

brumby. About midday he at last gave in, and with glazed eyes and stiff

limbs he fell to the ground. Taking off the saddle he carried, I knelt by

his head for a few minutes and could see there was no hope. Poor, faithful

friend! I felt like a murderer in doing it, but I knew it was the kindest

thing--and finished his sufferings with a bullet. There on the ridge, his

bones will lie for many a long day. Brave Tommy, whose rough and unkempt

exterior covered a heart that any warhorse might have envied, had covered

135 miles, without feed worth mentioning, and with only eleven gallons of

water during that distance, a stage of nearly seven days' duration of very

hard travelling indeed, with the weather pretty sultry, though the nights

were cool. His death, however, was in favour of our water supply, which

was not too abundant. So much had been lost by the bags knocking about on

the saddle, by their own pressure against the side of the saddle, and by

evaporation, that we had to content ourselves with a quart-potful between

us morning and evening--by no means a handsome allowance.

On the 29th, after travelling eight hours through scrubs, we were just

about to camp when the shrill "coo-oo" of a black-fellow met our ears; and

on looking round we were startled to see some half-dozen natives gazing at

us. Jenny chose at that moment to give forth the howl that only cow-camels

can produce; this was too great a shock for the blacks, who stampeded

pell-mell, leaving their spears and throwing-sticks behind them. We gave

chase, and, after a spirited run, Luck managed to stop a man. A

stark-naked savage this, and devoid of all adornment excepting a

waist-belt of plaited grass and a "sporran" of similar material. He was in

great dread of the camels and not too sure of us. I gave him something to

eat, and, by eating some of it myself, put him more at ease. After various

futile attempts at conversation, in which Luck displayed great knowledge

of the black's tongue, as spoken a few hundred miles away near Eucla, but

which unfortunately was quite lost on this native, we at last succeeded in

making our wants understood. "Ingup," "Ingup," he kept repeating, pointing

with his chin to the North and again to the West. Evidently "Ingup" stood

for water; for he presently took us to a small granite rock and pointed

out a soak or rock-hole, we could not say which. Whilst we stooped to

examine the water-hole, our guide escaped into the scrub and was soon lost

to view. Near the rock we found his camp. A few branches leaning against a

bush formed his house. In front a fire was burning, and near it a plucked

bird lay ready for cooking. Darkness overtook us before we could get to

work on the rock-hole, so we turned into the blankets with a more

satisfied feeling than we had done for some days past. During the night

the blacks came round us. The camels, very tired, had lain down close by,

and, quietly creeping to Jenny, I slapped her nose, which awoke her with

the desired result, viz., a loud roar. The sound of rapidly retreating

feet was heard, and their owners troubled us no more.

So sure were we of the supply in the granite that we gave the camels the

few gallons that were left in our bags, and were much disgusted to find

the next day that, far from being a soakage, the water was merely

contained in a rock-hole, which had been filled in with sand and sticks.

April 30th and May 1st were occupied in digging out the sand and

collecting what water we could, a matter of five or six gallons. So bad

was this water that the camels would not touch it; however, it made

excellent bread, and passable tea. Man, recognising Necessity, is less

fastidious than animals who look to their masters to supply them with the

best, and cannot realise that in such cases "Whatever is, is best."

From a broken granite rock North-West of the rock-hole, we sighted

numerous peaks to the North, and knew that Mount Shenton could not now be

far away. To the East of the rock-hole is a very prominent bluff some

fifteen miles distant; this I named Mount Fleming, after Colonel Fleming,

then Commandant of the West Australian forces.

May 2nd we reached the hills and rejoiced to find ourselves once more in

decent country. Numerous small, dry watercourses ran down from the hills,

fringed with grass and bushes. In the open mulga, kangaroos' tracks were

numerous, and in the hills we saw several small red kangaroos, dingoes,

and emus. At first we found great difficulty in identifying any of the

hills; but after much consultation and reference to the map we at last

picked out Mount Shenton, and on reaching the hill knew that we were

right, for we found Wells' cairn of stones and the marks of his camp and

camels. The next difficulty was in finding the soakage, as from a bad

reproduction of Wells' map it was impossible to determine whether the soak

was at the foot of Mount Shenton or near another hill three miles away.

It only remained to search both localities. Our trouble was rewarded by

the finding of an excellent little soakage, near the foot of a granite

rock, visible due East, from the top of Mount Shenton, some two miles

distant. Here we had an abundant supply, and not before it was wanted. The

camels had had no water with the exception of a mouthful apiece from the

night of April 21st until the night of May 3rd, a period of twelve days,

during which we had travelled nearly two hundred miles over very trying

ground. The cool nights were greatly in their favour, and yet it was a

good performance, more especially that at the end of it they were in

pretty fair fettle.

What a joy that water was to us! what a luxury a wash was! and clean

clothes! Really it's worth while being half famished and wholly filthy for

a few days, that one may so thoroughly enjoy such delights afterwards!

I know few feelings of satisfaction that approach those which one

experiences on such occasions. Our cup of joy was not yet full, for as we

sat mending our torn clothes, two over-inquisitive emus approached.

Luckily a Winchester was close to hand, and as they were starting to run I

managed to bowl one over. Wounded in the thigh he could yet go a great

pace, but before long we caught up with him and despatched him with a blow

on the head. What a feed we had! I suppose there is hardly a part of that

bird, barring bones, feathers, and beak that did not find its way into our

mouths during the next day or two! Tinned meat is good, sometimes

excellent; but when you find that a cunning storekeeper has palmed off all

his minced mutton on you, you are apt to fancy tinned fare monotonous!

Such was our case; and no matter what the label, the contents were always

the same--though we tried to differentiate in imagination, as we used to

call it venison, beef, veal, or salmon, for variety's sake! "Well, old

chap, what shall we have for tea--Calf's head? Grouse? Pheasant?" "Hum!

what about a little er--MINCED MUTTON--we've not had any for some time,

I think." In this way we added relish to our meal.

Amongst the hills we saw numerous kangaroos, but could never get a shot.

This must be a fine camp for natives. Near the soak was a camp of quite a

dozen blacks, but recently deserted. In fact we must have scared them

away, for their fires were still smouldering. We spent three days in

exploring the hills, but failed to see any auriferous indications,

excepting in the immediate neighbourhood of Mount Shenton. We had

therefore had our long tramp for nothing, and had to be content with

knowing that we had tried our best and had at least proved the useless

character of a large stretch of country. For this, however, one gets no

thanks.

On the 6th we moved to a rock-hole near Mount Grant, in the same range as

Mount Shenton, and spent another day tramping the hills with no result.

Here again we were in luck, for a mob of thirteen emus came to drink

whilst I was in the rock-hole. Having seen them early that morning and

knowing that they had had no drink, I felt sure they would return, and so

had patiently waited, crouched in the rock hole, waist deep in water.

This, perhaps, did not improve its flavour, but emu meat was worth

procuring at the small cost of tainting the water with the taste of

clothes. Presently I heard the drumming of the approaching birds, and,

cautiously looking up, found them attentively examining the bucket and

pannikin, I had left on the rock. They made such a quaint, pretty picture

that unless we had really wanted meat, I should not have disturbed them.

Had I been so inclined I could have shot several as they were bunched

together within a few feet of me; one, however, was sufficient, and as he

fell the rest streamed away up the slope with tremendous speed. This bird

we cut into strips of meat which we dried in the sun.

To celebrate this addition to our larder, we held a concert that night,

and took it in turns to be the audience. Luck had rather a good voice,

and treated me to French songs; his favourite started, "J'ai souvent

parcouru le monde, les forets et les grandes savannes----" This was always

loudly applauded. My songs were not a great success--in fact an audience

of one is all I can manage, that is if I am stronger, or fleeter of foot

than he is. Luck was polite enough to say he enjoyed my rendering of

"The Scottish Cavalier." Then we used to read aloud to each other by the

light of the camp-fire. I did most of the reading, for my mate's English

was not as clear as it might have been.

Athletic sports, too, we used to indulge in, feats of strength, and so

forth, in most of which Luck was too good for me, but I always beat him at

cock-fighting, which was rather a sore point. In fact, considering that we

were alone and had been so for many weeks, and were a long way into the

interior, "outside the tracks" by a good many score of miles, we managed

to be fairly cheerful on the whole. I do not like writing about my

companion's crotchets, because it seems unfair, since one's own

shortcomings never find the light unless the other man writes a book too.

By freely conceding that sometimes I must have been a horrible nuisance

to him, I feel absolved in this matter. When Luck used to get sulky fits,

he really was most trying; for two or three days he wouldn't speak, and

for want of company I used to talk to the camels; at the end of that time,

when I saw signs of recovery, I used to address him thus, "Well, Bismarck,

what's it all about?" Then he would tell me how I had agreed to bake a

damper, and had gone off and done something else, leaving him to do it, or

some such trivial complaint. After telling me about it, he would regain

his usual cheerfulness. "Bismarck" was a sure draw, and made him so angry

that he had to laugh as the only way out of it without fighting someone.

Luck, you see, was from Alsace, and did not care about the Germans.

CHAPTER III

FROM MOUNT SHENTON TO MOUNT MARGARET

But to continue our journey. We left Mount Grant on May 8th, travelling

South-West, and once away from the hills came again into sand and

spinifex. From absence of feed we tied the camels down two nights running.

The second night we had a visit from a native gentleman, and by his tracks

in the morning we saw that he had been quite close to our heads at one

time.

On the 10th a great change occurred in the country, and on passing through

a thicket, we found a great wall of rock (decomposed granite) barring

further progress. Following along the wall we came upon a gap, and,

entering, reached a nice little plain of saltbush, surrounded by rocks and

cliffs. This remarkable gap in the apparently extensive wall of rock we

christened the "Desert's Gate," for we hourly expected to see better

country. The next day we cut some recent horse tracks, the first signs of

prospectors we had seen since April 15th, and following them back, hoping

for water, came to an empty rock-hole amongst some rough hills of black

slate, and in places, blows of quartz. No colours of gold could be found,

nor signs of water, to induce us to stay longer prospecting. On the 12th

we crossed a narrow salt lake and bade adieu to the sand and spinifex. To

commemorate this longed-for day, we afterwards composed numerous poems(?)

illustrating our daily life in the desert. The one considered by us the

best, I beg to submit to the indulgent reader.

SPINIFEX AND SAND.

I will sing you a lay of W.A.

Of a wanderer, travelled and tanned

By the sun's fierce ray, through the livelong day

In the Spinifex and Sand.

At the day's first dawn, in earliest morn,

As a soldier obeys a command,

From his blanket he's torn, still weary and worn,

By the Spinifex and Sand.

Unrested still, he must put on the billy,

And eat of the meat that is canned,

He must take his full fill, he must face willy-nilly

The Spinifex and the Sand.

Then he gets on the tracks and sights the arched backs

Of his camels of true South Aus. brand,

And with saddle and sack he must hasten to pack

For the Spinifex and Sand.

From the start until night, till he's sick of the sight,

There seem to dance hand in hand

A lady so bright, and a green-armoured knight,

The Spinifex and the Sand.

He turns to his mate with "It gets a bit late,"

His mate, he just answers offhand--

"It's the same soon or late, we'll camp 't any rate

In the Spinifex and Sand."

As the night drags along, a weird-looking throng

Fills his dreams of a far-off land,

And a voice loud and strong chants the same ceaseless song,

Of the SPINIFEX AND THE SAND.

Since this is one of the few attempts at rhyming that I have been guilty

of, I hope I may be excused for wishing to see it in print, for at the

time I was exceedingly proud of the composition. Ah! well, it served to

pass the time and afforded some amusement. Soon we had other matters to

think about, for on the 12th we found ourselves on the outskirts of

auriferous country and were lucky in reaching plenty of water. Being

lightly loaded we had made good marches, covering 103 miles from the last

water on May 8th, an average of twenty and a half miles per day.

From the 13th to the 21st we camped surrounded by hills, any one of which

might contain gold if only we could find it. Unremitting labours resulted

in nothing but a few colours here and there. We were now thirty miles to

the North-West of Mount Margaret (discovered and named by Forrest in 1869,

who on that journey reached a point some sixty miles further East than

that hill), and though we were the first, so far as I know, to prospect

this particular part of the district, it was reserved for subsequent

fossickers to find anything worth having.

Wandering about, pick in hand, one day I put up several turkeys from the

grass surrounding some granite rocks, and shortly after found their

watering-place, a nice little pool. The next day whilst Luck prospected I

returned to the pool with a gun, and, building a hide of bushes, waited

all day. Towards evening two fine emus came stalking along, and I shot

one. By the time I had him skinned and the legs cut off it was dark. A

most deceptive bird is an emu, for in reality he has but little meat on

his body. The legs, that is the thighs, are the only parts worth taking,

so shouldering these I started for camp a couple of miles off. It was

pretty late when I got back, and found Luck ringing a camel-bell violently

and frequently. He had been a bit anxious at my long absence, and had

taken a bell off one of the camels to guide me in case I was "bushed."

A party of two is too small for a journey that takes them far from

settlements for if anything happens to one, the other has little chance by

himself. The man left in camp does not know what to do--if he goes far

from home, there is the danger of the camp being robbed by natives,

therefore he hesitates to go in search of his mate, who possibly is in

sore need of help from an accident, or bushed, or speared--so many things

might happen. If one broke a limb, as he easily might, what could his mate

do? Nothing. If in waterless country he would have to leave him, or kill

him, or die with him.

Though Luck and I were spared any catastrophes, we often thought of such

things, and therefore felt anxious when either was away for long.

On the 22nd we were surprised at cutting a freshly made dray-track, along

which it was clear that many had passed--and the next day arrived at the

Red Flag, an alluvial rush that had "set in" during our sojourn in the

sand. This came as a great surprise, as we had no idea that gold had been

found so far afield. This camp, some twelve miles North-East of Mount

Margaret, consisted then of only forty or fifty men, though others were

daily arriving. These were the first white men we had seen for seven

weeks, and they were greatly astonished to see us, when they learnt what

direction we had come from.

Here were gathered together men from Coolgardie and Murchison, attracted

by the tales of wealth brought by the first prospectors of the new rush.

Some of them had been longer away from civilisation than we had, and many

arguments were held as to the correct date. Of course I knew, because I

kept a diary; but the Queen's Birthday was celebrated by us on the wrong

day after all, for I had given April thirty-one days! We heard that

hundreds had started for the rush, but this camp represented all who had

persevered, the rest being scared at the distance.

This reads funnily now when Mount Margaret is as civilised as Coolgardie

was then, and is connected by telegraph, and possibly will be soon

boasting of a railway. The blacks had been very troublesome, "sticking up"

swagmen, robbing camps, spearing horses, and the like. It is popularly

supposed that every case of violence on the part of the natives, may be

traced to the brutal white man's interference in their family

arrangements. No doubt it does happen that by coming between man and wife

a white man stirs up the tribe, and violence results, but in the majority

of cases that I know of, the poor black-fellow has recklessly speared,

wounding and killing, prospectors' horses, because he wanted food or

amusement. A man does not travel his packhorses into the bush for the

philanthropic purpose of feeding the aboriginals, and naturally resents

his losses and prevents their recurrence in a practical way.

As a matter of fact, the black population was so small, that even had

every individual of it been shot, the total would not have reached by a

long way the indiscriminate slaughter that was supposed to go on in the

bush. The people who used to hold their hands up in horror--righteous

horror had the tales been true--at the awful cruelties perpetrated by the

prospectors, based their opinions on the foolish "gassing" of a certain

style of man who thinks to make himself a hero by recounting dark deeds

of blood, wholly imaginary. I remember reading a letter to a friend from

his mother, in which she begged him to take no part in the "nigger hunting

excursions" that she had heard went on in Western Australia. Poor lady!

she need not have disturbed herself, for such things never existed, nor

had her boy ever seen a black-fellow, except round the slaughter-yards of

Coolgardie!

No luck attended our search in the Mount Margaret district, and we shared

the opinion of everybody there that it was a "duffer," and after events

had proved what that opinion was worth. Travelling and prospecting as we

went, we at last succeeded in finding a reef which we thought was worth

having.

May 30th. We made camp amongst some auriferous hills in what is now known

as the Niagara District, and within a few miles of a spot where,

subsequently, a rich find of gold was made. Since the natives were known

to be troublesome in this locality, we adopted the plan of one stopping

in camp whilst the other prospected. Formerly we had considered it safe

for the one at home to be within reasonable distance of camp, but now,

when semi-civilised natives were prowling about, it was unwise to leave

the camp at all. Luck found gold first, but in so small a vein of quartz

that we did not consider it worth working. The next day, however, we

"got colours" in a fine big reef, and, moving our belongings to its

vicinity, started prospecting the outcrop. Everywhere we tried we found

gold sprinkled through the stone like pepper, and by "dollying" obtained

good results. Satisfied with the prospect, the next thing to be done was

to cross-cut the reef to ascertain its thickness and character below the

surface.

Fortunately water was close to hand, that is to say three miles away, in a

creek since named "Dingo Creek." From there we packed water back to camp,

as often as we required it. Our luck in securing game had now deserted us,

and we had again to fall back on our nearly diminished stock of mince.

After a week's hard work we found that with our limited supply of tools,

without drills and dynamite, it was impossible to do any farther sinking;

besides which the low tide in our provisions necessitated a return to

civilisation before many days.

I pegged out, therefore, an area of four hundred yards by four hundred

yards, as a "protection area"; that is to say, that the fact of four

corner-pegs and a notice having been put up in some prominent place

protects the ground from being taken by any one else for a period of

thirty days. After that time has elapsed the area must be applied for at

the nearest Warden's office, where, unless disputed, it is registered

under the name of the applicant, who must at once commence work upon it.

When such work proves the existence of "payable gold" the area must be

again applied for as a lease, to hold which the sum of 1 pound per acre,

per annum, must be paid to the Government. There are other conditions with

which it is necessary to conform, and which need not be enumerated here.

Since we had ample time to go and return from Coolgardie within the

prescribed period, we decided that in place of travelling direct

homewards, we would make a detour and visit the locality of Mount Ida,

where we had heard gold had been found. By rapid travelling our "tucker"

could be made to last out the time. Winter was now coming on, and the

nights were bitterly cold. Our blankets in the morning were soaked with

dew and frost, and when the days were cloudy and sometimes drizzly we had

no chance of drying them until we built a fire at night. One is so used to

reading of the terrible heat in Australia that it may come as a surprise

to many to hear that in the short winter in the interior--which, by the

way, is 1,500 feet above sea level--the thermometer sometimes sinks for a

brief period of time to 17 degrees F.

This low temperature is reached about an hour before daylight, as you know

to your cost, if you are ill-provided with blankets. At that time in the

morning your head is drawn into the possum rug, and you lie stiff and

shivering until you hear the indescribable something--that heralds the

coming of the sun. It may be a camel moving, as he shakes the frost from

his woolly coat, it may be a bird, or a grasshopper, but always there is

some little noise that would tell even a blind man that the night is over.

Often you know by the stars how long it will be before daylight, and stir

up the fire, put on the billy, and get the saddles and packs in order.

Sometimes you fix on the wrong star, and are thanked accordingly by your

mate when, with his feet in his cold, clammy boots, he discovers that his

watch reads 2 a.m. Sometimes you have the satisfaction of growling at him,

and occasionally, if you feel in very nasty humour, you may lie "dog-oh"

and watch his early rising, knowing full well the right time; laughter,

however, gives you away, and you are justly rewarded by having the

blankets torn off you. Such simple pranks as these make bearable a life

that would otherwise suffocate you with its monotony.

And yet there is a charm about the bush--the perfect peace in the "free

air of God"--that so takes hold of some men that they can never be happy

anywhere else. Civilisation is a fine thing in its way, but the petty

worries and annoyances, the bustle and excitement, the crowds of people,

the "you can't do this," and "you must do that," the necessity for

dressing in most uncomfortable garments to be like other people, and a

thousand other such matters, so distress a bushman, who, like a caged

beast in a menagerie, wanders from corner to corner and cannot find where

to rest, that he longs for the day that he will again be on the track,

with all his worldly goods with him and the wide world before him. Such

a man in the bush and in the town is as different as a fish in and out of

water.

Some of the finest fellows "outside the tracks" are the least respectable

in civilised places, where before long they can find no better occupation

than drinking, which, owing to months of teetotalism in the bush, they are

less able to stand than the ordinary individual who takes his beer or

spirits daily. And thus it is that bushmen very often get the name of

being loafers and drunkards, though on the aggregate they consume far less

liquor than our most respected citizens in the towns. The sudden change in

surroundings, good food, and the number of fellow-creatures, the noise of

traffic, and want of exercise--all these combined are apt to affect a

man's head, even when unaided by the constant flow of liquor with which a

popular bushman is deluged--a deluge hard to resist in a country where to

refuse a drink amounts to an insult. A plan recommended by some is to

"please 'em all by one jolly good spree, and then knock off and drink with

nobody." A man only gives offence who discriminates in his entertainers.

I fear I have wandered far from the subject of our journey, for Luck and I

had some time yet before us until the joys and troubles of civilised life

should be ours. The daily routine of travel was varied occasionally by

incidents of no great moment; for instance, when riding through the scrub,

Omerod, a rather clumsy old camel, tripped and fell, pinning me beneath

him, without injury to either of us; for a water bag acted as a buffer

between my leg and the saddle, and by the time all the water was squeezed

out of it, Luck had the saddle off, and I was extricated. Certainly some

camels are hard to put out or fluster; such a one was Omerod, who lay

without a kick until relieved of his saddle, when he rose and at once

proceeded to feed on the scrub.

Later, we had another instance of his stolidity; that was when crossing

a salt lake. Jenny was light and escaped bogging; not so Omerod, who sank

as far as his legs would allow, and there waited calmly until we had

unpacked the loads, carried them across the lake, and returned to help

Shimsha, who struggled violently in the sticky clay. When he was safely

taken across to an island on which we sought refuge, Omerod was attended

to. There he lay, half buried in salt mud, chewing his cud unconcernedly;

either he had perfect confidence in us, or was indifferent as to his

fate--he looked rather as if he were saying "Kismet." We had some trouble

in digging him out, during which operation Luck fared as I had done

before; he was pinned beneath the camel, waist deep in clay, and in that

position had to emulate the stolid patience of Omerod until I could dig

him out. At last they were both free, and after considerable labour we

landed on the island, camels, baggage, and all, just as night fell.

We WERE cold too, clothes and arms and faces covered with moist salt clay,

and nothing with which to make a fire but sprigs of dead samphire. A cold

night means an early start--so we were up betimes and found that the

camels, not tied, since we thought them safe on an island, had in search

of feed hobbled across the lake, and were standing disconsolate on this

sea of mud, afraid to move now that in daylight they could see their

surroundings. A repetition of the preceding day's performance, landed us

beyond the treacherous lake-bed, and the following day we were fortunate

in finding a fine rock-hole of water, which enabled us to reappear as

white men.

Mirages are nearly always to be seen on these lakes of the interior, and

from their occurrence it is impossible to determine the extent of the flat

expanse of mud. On this occasion I witnessed the finest I have ever seen.

The hot sun playing upon the damp breeze rising from the lake, transformed

this desolate sea of salt and clay, into a charming picture. The horizon

and the sky were joined by a mirage of beautiful clear water, from which

islands and hills seemed to rise; even their shadows and those of the

trees with which they were clothed were reflected in the unruffled surface

of the lake. The long stretch of sand between, gave the picture the

appearance of a peaceful, natural harbour, which the tide was about to

fill.

We were unable to pay more than a flying visit to Mount Ida, but

sufficiently long to assure us of the auriferous character of its

neighbourhood. It is quite an imposing hill, rough, dark, and rugged, and

formed as if layers of black slate had been thrown violently against each

other. It rises some five hundred feet above the surrounding country.

We needed all our time to reach Siberia, before our provisions gave out.

There we arrived in due course, passing close, on our way, to the hills

near which Menzies afterwards made his great "find."

At Siberia a Government survey party, under Messrs. Newman and Brazier,

was camped, preparatory to running a line to connect Coolgardie and the

Murchison. Bidding them adieu, we took the road to Coolgardie, and arrived

there on June 22nd after an absence of exactly ninety days, having

travelled 843 miles. The result of the journey to ourselves was nil, for

the company considered that the reef we had found was too far off, and

took no further steps to develop it. It was afterwards under offer for

13,000 pounds in cash and shares, though whether the deal came off or not,

or what the mine was worth, I am not aware.

The company's representative in Coolgardie welcomed us with great

hospitality, and invited us to tea at his camp. Here he produced whisky,

and what he told us he considered the very best of tinned meats. "So HELP

me never, it's MINCED MUTTON!" shouted poor Luck, as the tin was

opened--a little joke that has never been forgotten.

It is a rather novel sensation to find that you are dead; and this was

our experience, for the papers had killed us some time since--our bones

had been seen bleaching in the sun, and all that sort of thing.

Unfortunately our death was not certain enough to warrant any obituary

notices, which might have been interesting reading.

On our return to Perth, the manager of the company for which we had

worked, who had arrived in our absence, far from thanking us for having

tried our best, asked why we went into a d----d desert to look for gold!

This we considered a little mean, seeing that a great part of the country

we had traversed had been hitherto unexplored. However, one doesn't look

for thanks from a mining company. So our journey was finished--a journey

that I shall never look back upon with regret, but with pleasure, for Luck

was a fine fellow and the best of mates; and at least we had the

satisfaction of knowing that if we had been unsuccessful, it was not for

the want of trying.

PART III SECOND PROSPECTING EXPEDITION

CHAPTER I

THE JOYS OF PORTABLE CONDENSERS

November 8, 1894, was a red-letter day in the history of Coolgardie, for

on that date the foundation-stone of the first brick building was laid by

Mr. James Shaw, the mayor. Under the stone was deposited a specimen of

each coin of the realm, and these, by the way, were purloined in the

night. This great day was made the occasion for feasting and jubilation,

the feasting taking the not uncommon form of a gigantic "Champagne Spree,"

to which the whole town was invited.

When once a wave of inebriety swept over the settlement, something a

little out of the ordinary was likely to occur. Fights and rows would be

started with the most bloodthirsty intentions, only to end in peace and

harmony after the swearing of eternal friendships. A good fight in

Coolgardie in those days would attract as much attention as a cab accident

in the streets of London. The well-known cry of "A fight! a fight!" would

bring the greater part of the population from their dwellings--from

stores, banks, offices, bars, an excited and rushing crowd would hurry

to the scene of the fray, all eager to witness a good row; they were not,

as a rule, disappointed, for, as one fight usually breeds several, a fair

afternoon's or morning's entertainment could be safely counted on.

A mining community must have excitement; even a dog-fight would command a

considerable amount of interest.

On the celebrated night of the laying of the foundation stone I had the

pleasure of witnessing a rough-and-tumble fight between two of the most

powerful men in Coolgardie. The excitement was intense as one seized his

antagonist, and, using him as a flail, proceeded to clear the room with

him; he retaliated by overpowering the other man, and finally breaking his

leg as they fell heavily together out through the door on to the hard

street beyond. How much ill-feeling this little incident engendered may be

judged from the fact that the maimed man was employed by his late

adversary as clerk until his limb mended, and subsequently held the billet

for many months.

It was my misfortune to be engaged in organising a prospecting expedition

at this time--misfortune, because of the impossibility of getting any one

to attend to business. Camels had to be bought, and provisions and

equipment attended to. A syndicate had engaged my services and those of

my two companions whom I had chosen in Perth: Jim Conley, a fine, sturdy

American from Kentucky, the one; and Paddy Egan, an Irish-Victorian, the

other. Both had been some time on the fields, and Conley had had previous

experience in South Africa and on the Yukon, where he had negotiated the

now famous Chilcoot Pass without realising that it was the tremendous feat

that present-day travellers represent it to be.

There are few men more entertaining than diggers, when one can get them to

talk; there is hardly a corner of the habitable globe to which they have

not penetrated. Round a camp-fire one will hear tales of Africa, New

Guinea, New Zealand, Australia, America from Alaska to the Horn,

Madagascar, and other strange countries that would be a mine of

information to a writer of books of adventure--tales told in the main with

truth and accuracy, and in the quiet, unostentatious manner of the

habitual digger to whom poverty, riches, and hardships come all in their

turn as a matter of course.

Having chosen my mates, the next thing to be done was to procure beasts of

burden. Of numerous camels submitted for inspection I took three, which

were subsequently christened "Czar," "Satan," and "Misery" respectively;

the first from his noble and king-like mien, the second from his wild and

exceedingly unpleasant habit of kicking and striking--habits due not to

vice but to the nervousness of youth--and the third from his plaintive

remonstrances and sad-eyed looks of reproach as his saddle and load were

placed on his back.

The price of a good pack-camel then varied from 60 pounds to 80

pounds--and such prices as 100 pounds to 130 pounds were given for

first-class riding-camels. For South Australian-bred camels, the

descendants of stock originally imported from India by Sir Thomas Elder

some thirty years ago, a higher price was asked than for those brought

into the Colony direct from Kurrachi; and rightly, for there can be no

doubt but that in size, strength, and endurance, the camel of Australian

birth is far ahead of his old-world cousin. Not only are Indian camels

smaller and less fitted for the heavy work of the interior, but their

liability, until acclimatised, to mange and other diseases makes them most

undesirable acquisitions.

The near approach of midsummer, and the known scarcity of water, had

induced me to include in my equipment a portable condenser, by means of

which we should convert the brine of the salt lakes into water fit to

drink. It seemed an excellent plan and so simple, for lakes abound--on

the maps; and wherever a lake is, there, by digging, will water be found,

and thus we should be independent of rock-holes and other precarious

sources of supply. Plans so simple on paper do not always "pan out" as

confidently expected and a more odious job, or one which entailed more

hard work, than prospecting with condensers I have not had to undertake.

"Prospecting" is generally taken to mean searching for gold. In Western

Australia in the hot weather it resolves itself into a continual battle

for water, with the very unlikely contingency that, in the hunt for a

drink, one may fall up against a nugget of gold or a gold-bearing quartz

reef.

On November 10th we made a start from Coolgardie, and, travelling along

the Twenty-five Mile road for some fifteen miles, we branched off in an

easterly direction, to try some country where I had previously found

"colours" of gold, when journeying from Kurnalpi to the Twenty-five Mile.

Finding that in the meantime others had been there and pegged out leases

and claims, we passed on and set up our condensers on the "Wind and Water"

lake, and began to get an inkling that our job was not to be of the

pleasantest.

More than one hole six to fifteen feet deep had to be sunk before we

struck any water. To lessen the labour we at first dug our shafts near the

margin of the lake; this proving unsuccessful we were forced further and

further out, until our efforts were rewarded by a plentiful supply, but

alas! some three hundred yards from the shore. This necessitated the

carrying of wood from the margin of the lake to the condensers. The

boilers required constant attention day and night, the fires had to be

stoked, and the water stored as it slowly trickled from the cooling tray.

Thus the duties of the twenty-four hours consisted in chopping and

carrying wood, watching the condensers, attending to the camels,

occasionally sleeping and eating, and prospecting for gold in spare time.

I think my readers will readily understand that it was hard indeed to find

much time to devote to the proper object of the expedition, however

willing we were to do so.

There were one or two others engaged on the same job at that lake, and

from one party Czar sneaked a cheap drink by thrusting his head through

the opening in the lid of a large two-hundred-gallon tank. His peculiar

position was specially adapted to the administration of a sound beating,

nor did the infuriated owner of the water fail to take advantage of the

situation.

With our tanks filled and our camels watered, we set forth from the lake

on November 21st, having prospected what country there was in its

immediate neighbourhood. The heat was intense, and walking, out of

training as we were, was dry work; our iron casks being new, gave a most

unpleasant zinc taste to the water, which made us all feel sick.

Unpleasant as this was, yet it served the useful purpose of checking the

consumption of water. Our route lay past the "Broad Arrow" to a hill that

I took to be Mount Yule, and from there almost due east to Giles'

Pinnacles. Our camels were most troublesome; young, nervous, and unused

to us or to each other, they would wander miles during the night, and give

two of us a walk of three or four miles in the morning; before the day's

work began. Two were not content with merely wandering, but persisted in

going in one direction, the third in another.

One morning Conley and Egan were following their tracks each in a

different quarter. I meanwhile climbed a neighbouring hill to spy out the

land ahead, hoping to see the white glitter of a salt lake, for we were in

likely country, ironstone blows, quartz, and diorite giving evidence of

its probable auriferous nature; we were therefore anxious to find water to

enable us to test it. On return to camp, after an absence of not more than

half an hour, I was astonished to see it surrounded by the tracks of

numerous "black-fellows." I guessed they had paid us a visit for no good

purpose, and was hardly surprised when I found that they had not only

stolen all our flour, but added insult to injury by scattering it about

the ground. Not daring to leave the camp, lest in my absence they should

return and take all our provisions, I was unable to follow the thieves,

and had to wait in patience the return of the camels.

So far had they wandered in their hobbles, that by the time we were ready

to start the blacks must have gained too great an advantage in distance to

make it worth our while to follow them; nor, since they started off in the

direction from which we had come, was it any use tracking them with the

hope of getting water. So we pushed on eastwards, through open forest of

gums, scrubs, and thickets, broken by occasional small plains of saltbush,

seeing no signs of water or lake, when presently we entered a belt of

sandy desert--rolling sandhills, spinifex-clad, with occasional thickets

of mulga and mallee.

Monotonous work it was, dragging the wretched camels for eight to ten

hours at a stretch, inciting them to fresh exertions by curses and

beatings, kindness and caresses, in turn. In some respects a camel

resembles a bullock; not only does he chew his cud, but he loves to be

sworn at; no self-respecting ox will do an ounce of work until his

driver has flung over him a cloud of the most lurid and hair-raising

language. Now, a camel draws the line at blasphemy, but rejoices in the

ordinary oaths and swear-words of every-day life in much the same way as a

retriever. There is no animal more susceptible to kindness than a camel;

but in a sandy sea of scrub with the blazing sun almost boiling the water,

milk-like from zinc, in the tanks, loads dragged this way and that,

boilers and pipes of condensers rolling, now forward, now back, eventually

to slip clattering down, bearing camel and all to the ground--with these

and other trials kindness was not in us.

Soon after sunset on the 27th, from the branches of a high gum tree we

sighted the Pinnacles almost dead on our course; and late that night we

reached the lake, and found to our joy a condenser already established, by

means of which two men earned a precarious livelihood by selling water to

travellers--for these lakes were on the direct track from Kurnalpi to the

Mount Margaret district. Thus enabled to assuage the seven days' thirst of

the camels forthwith, at the cost of a shilling per gallon, we lost no

time in setting up our own plant, and were fortunate in finding water

and wood easy of access. The next four days were spent in prospecting the

surrounding country, but no gold rewarded our efforts, though numerous

reefs and blows of quartz were to be seen in the hills which the lake

nearly surrounds.

Whilst camped here, I took the opportunity of breaking in Satan as a

riding-camel, and found him at first a most untameable customer, trying

all sorts of dodges to get the better of me. Twisting round his neck he

would grab at my leg; then, rolling, he would unseat and endeavour to roll

on me; finally tiring of these tricks he would gallop off at full speed,

and run my leg against a tree, or do his best to sweep me off by an

overhanging branch, until I felt satisfied that he had been rightly named.

At last he realised that I was master, and after that I hardly remember

one occasion on which he gave any trouble; for the three years that I

afterwards possessed him, we were the best of friends, and he the most

gentle and biddable of beasts. Alas! that I should have had to end his

days with a bullet, and leave his bones to be picked by the dingoes of the

Great Sandy Desert.

Failing to find any gold, and being in need of flour, we made south to

Kurnalpi, through country flat and uninteresting, and arrived at that camp

just in time to secure the last two bags of flour. The town was almost

deserted, and had none of the lively and busy appearance that it presented

when I had last seen it. All who saw us praised our equipment and

forethought in having portable condensers. I am not quite sure that we

agreed with them.

Hearing that some promising country existed near Lake Roe, I decided to

make for that place, and more particularly for a small rock-hole named

Beri, at the west end of the lake. Very rough, stony hills covered with

dense scrub surround Kurnalpi on the south; once across these, flat, open

country of saltbush and samphire, rapidly changing into salt-swamp, made

travelling easy; passing over another low range of diorite, from which we

got an extensive view of Lake Lapage to the west and Lake Roe to the east,

we reached Beri, hitting off the rock with so much accuracy that even

Paddy Egan was surprised into praise of the compass. For some bushmen, be

it known, can neither understand nor appreciate the use of a compass, and,

being quite capable of finding their way back, are content to wander forth

into the bush with no guide but the sun, taking no notes of the country,

no record of their day's march, and making no observations to help either

themselves or anybody else; unable to say where they have been, how they

got there, or how they got home again. Some men have a natural instinct

for direction, and I know some who could start, say from Coolgardie, to

ride seventy miles east and return, then perhaps sixty to the north, and

from that point ride across to their seventy-mile point with great

ease and certainty, having no notion of the distance or point of the

compass.

A good many prospectors, depending on their black-boys almost entirely,

wander from one range of hills to another, dodge here and there for water,

keep no count or reckoning, and only return by the help of their guide

when the "tucker-bags" are empty; others make a practice of standing two

sticks in the ground on camping at night, to remind them of the course

they have travelled during the day and must resume in the morning. To such

men as these a map or compass is useless and therefore of no value; and

yet they are often spoken of by the ignorant as "best bushmen in

Australia."

In my time I have seen and mixed with most prospectors in the West, and as

far as my experience goes the best bushmen not only use the compass, but

keep a reckoning, rough though it may be, of their day's travel. Such a

man is Billy Frost, to quote a well-known name on the goldfields, a man

who has had no chance to learn any of the rudiments of surveying, and who

started life as a boundary rider on a cattle station. He has shown me a

note-book in which he has jotted down directions and distances from water.

In mountainous country where landmarks are numerous the traveller may

manage it; but no man could travel for any length of time without keeping

some sort of reckoning, in a flat country like the interior of Western

Australia, where for days together one sees no hill or rise, without

before long becoming hopelessly lost.

Paddy Egan had been content to travel in this haphazard way, and it was

long before he would acknowledge the benefits of a compass and map. That

he could travel straight there was no gainsaying, for if, as I sometimes

did, I pointed out our line and sent him ahead, he would go as straight as

a die, with now and then a glance at the sun, and a slight alteration in

his course to allow for its altered position, and require but little

correction. Indeed, even when using a compass, one instinctively pays as

much and more attention to the sun or the stars, as the case may be.

The rock-hole at Beri was dry, so we pushed on for Lake Roe, and, though

we worked sinking holes until past midnight, and nearly the whole of the

next day, we were unable to find water. It was only salt water we

expected, but a stiff pipeclay, continuing to a depth too great for our

limited means of sinking, baffled all our efforts. I followed the lake

some six miles to the eastward, carrying a shovel and digging trial holes

at intervals, but this pipeclay foiled me everywhere.

I do not know how far this lake runs east, and fancy its limits have never

been laid down on the map; not that there is anything sufficiently

inviting in its appearance--the usual flat expanse of mud, with banks of

sand fringed with low straggling mallee and spinifex--to warrant further

investigation.

Lake Roe having failed us, we turned on our tracks for the nearest point

of Lake Lapage, some nine miles distant. Here we were more fortunate, and

obtained a splendid supply of salt water at a depth of only three feet.

Timber was not easily got--that would have been too much joy! It had to

be carried nearly half a mile on our shoulders, for the camels, having

travelled all day, deserved a rest. The condensers worked well, now that

we had had some experience, and produced water at the rate of four gallons

an hour. With our casks replenished and our camels filled, leaving the

condenser standing, we turned south to some hills that were visible; we

intended to be absent for four days, at the end of which the camels would

again require water, as the weather was exceedingly hot.

Nothing of interest was met with until we came upon a huge wall-like reef,

standing some fifteen or twenty feet above the ground, from ten to twenty

feet wide, and running almost due north and south for nearly five miles,

without a break of appreciable extent, as we subsequently found. Breaking

the quartz at intervals, hoping at each blow of the pick to see the

longed-for colours, we followed this curious natural wall, and finally

camped, sheltered by it from the wind. A violent storm of dust, wind,

thunder, and lightning swept over us that night, tearing the "fly" we had

pitched, in the vain expectation of rain, into ribbons.

Leaving the others to continue prospecting, I turned my steps, or rather

those of Satan, whom I was riding, towards Cowarna, a large granite rock,

some fourteen miles distant, and due south from our camp, if I had

reckoned our position on the map correctly. Twelve miles of open forest,

alternating with scrubby thickets, brought me to the edge of a fine little

plain of saltbush and grass, from the centre of which a bare rock of

granite stood out. Arrived at the rock, I hunted long and diligently for

water. Numerous rock-holes were to be seen, but all were dry, and my hopes

of making this our base from which to prospect in various directions were

at first short-lived; but before long I was overjoyed to hear the

twittering of a little flock of Diamond sparrows--a nearly certain sign

that water must be handy; and sure enough I found their supply at the

bottom of a narrow, round hole, down which I could just stretch my arm.

CHAPTER II

GRANITE ROCKS, "NAMMA HOLES," AND "SOAKS"

At this point it may not be amiss to give a short description of these

peculiar outcrops of granite, without which the track from York to

Coolgardie could never have been kept open, nor the place discovered, nor

could its early inhabitants have supported life before the condensing

plant came into general use.

The interior of the Colony, between the coast and a point some hundred

miles east of Coolgardie, is traversed by parallel belts of granite,

running in a general direction of north-north-west and south-south-east.

This granite crops out above the surface, at intervals of from ten to

twenty or thirty miles, sometimes in the form of an isolated barren rock,

and sometimes as low ranges and hills several miles in extent. From them

small creeks, and sometimes larger watercourses, run down, to find their

way into the stony and gravelly debris which usually surrounds the rocks.

Much of what little rain does fall is absorbed by the trees and scrub,

and much is taken by the sun's heat, so that a very small proportion can

sink below the surface soil, and only when there is some underground basin

in the rock beneath will water be found by sinking, except immediately

after rain.

Round the granite base a belt of grass of no great extent may be found,

for the most part dry and yellow, but in places green and fresh. It is in

such spots as these that one may hope to tap an underground reservoir in

the rock. To these shallow wells has been given the name of "Soaks."

They seldom exceed fifteen feet in depth, though similar subterranean

basins have been tapped by a well perhaps a hundred feet deep, sunk some

distance from the foot of the outcrop. A good soak will stand a heavy

drain for perhaps months, but not having its origin in a spring the supply

ultimately ceases.

The soil, being alluvial, is in most cases easy to dig, and when the bed

rock is reached it becomes an open question whether to go deeper into the

decomposed rock or to be content with what supply has been struck. Many a

good soak has been ruined by a too ambitious worker, who, after infinite

toil, may see his priceless fluid disappear down some hidden crack

beneath. Native soaks dug out with sticks and wooden "coolimans"--small

troughs used as spades or as a means of carrying seeds, water, or

game--are by no means uncommon, and, when holding water, are easily made

more serviceable by throwing out a few shovelsful of sticks, stones, and

sand, with which they are generally choked. Often the weary traveller has

no such lucky help, and must set to work to dig a soak for himself and his

thirsty beasts--against time, too, in a blazing sun, without the

comforting knowledge that there is any certainty of finding water. I do

not know of any case when a party has actually perished at the mouth of

a waterless soak, but in many instances water has been struck when all

hope had been given up. The skeletons and carcasses of camels and horses

tell a tale of suffering that no man who has travelled can look at

unmoved, and go to show that many a beast of burden has been less

fortunate than his masters.

With what eager anxiety the shovelsful are watched, when the expected

"bottom" is nearly reached, by man and beast alike, who, utterly weary and

absolutely parched, know that they are soon to learn their fate. The

horses snort and plunge in eager and impatient expectation, whilst the

patient camel contents himself with grunts and moans, though, as his knees

are probably strapped beneath him, he cannot protest more forcibly. At

length, perhaps, all are rewarded by the welcome sight of a tiny trickle

in one corner, or perhaps the hole turns out a "duffer," and the weary,

weary work must be commenced again in a fresh spot.

In many cases these granite rocks have been utilised as a catchment area

for tanks, into which the water is led by drains, which encircle the foot

of the outcrop. Before the railway was built, such tanks, sunk by

Government along the Southern Cross-Coolgardie track, enabled teamsters to

bring their horses through with safety, which would otherwise have been

impossible at some seasons of the year.

I append a table showing cost and contents of Government tanks excavated

at the base of granite rocks between Southern Cross and Coolgardie:--

Name of Reservoir. Cost (pounds). Contents in Cost per Million

Gallons. Gallons (pounds).

Reen's Soak 3,246 900,000 3,607

Kararawalgee 2,947 1,250,000 2,858

Boorabbin 3,025 900,000 3,461

Woolgangee 3,825 1,2501000 3,100

Bullabulling 4,118 1,250,000 3,294

Coolgardie (No, 1) 1,167 800,000 1,454

Coolgardie (No. 2) 2,110 1,400,000 1,503

Halgoorlie (half-way) 1,266 500,000 2,532

Kalgoorlie... 1,554 500,000 3,108

Twenty-five Mile Tank 1,881 500,000 3,762

Forty Mile Tank 1,546 500,000 3,092

Colreavy's Tank 2,193 997,000 2,199

The above table will give some idea of the enormous expense entailed by

the opening up of the interior. In addition to these, wells and bores were

put down, many of which failed to strike water.

Ever-thoughtful Nature has provided, on the surface of the "granites,"

small reservoirs which, after rain, may, in some cases, hold many hundred

gallons of water. The Rock--or Namma-holes (I presume "Namma" is a native

name, but of this I am uncertain) are usually more or less conical in

shape, and vary in depth from a few inches to twenty feet, and in diameter

from half a foot to several. Their sides are smooth, and slope down to a

rounded bottom, where stones are often found which would suggest that they

have had something to do with the formation of these peculiar holes.

Beneath a hard surface layer the rock becomes decomposed and comparatively

soft; and doubtless the rain of countless ages collecting round the

stones, once on the surface and now found at the bottom of the holes, has

at length weathered away the rock, and so by slow degrees the stone

has ground out an ever-increasing hollow. I am neither geologist nor

dentist, but I have often likened in my mind the formation of the

Namma-holes to the gradual hollow formed by decay in a tooth. Whatever

their history, their use is unquestionable--not so the flavour of their

contents; for every bird or beast coming to water will leave some traces

behind, and the natives, to prevent evaporation, throw in sticks, stones,

and grass. Such a collection of rubbish and filth might naturally be

supposed to render the water unhealthy, but apparently this is not the

case, for we have often been forced to drink water, which, in

civilisation would be thought only fit to be used as manure for the

garden, without any injury to health or digestion. Patient search over the

whole surface of the rock is the usual method for finding rock-holes,

though sometimes the pads of wallabies, kangaroos, or emus, may serve as a

guide to them, but game is so scarce that a man must usually trust to his

own observation. Sometimes their existence may be detected from a distance

by the patch of rock round the mouth showing white, owing to its being

worn by the feet of birds and animals.

A typical rock was the high, barren "Cowarna," and one that after rain

would store in its depressions a plentiful supply of the life-giving

water. Thankful for small mercies, I made the best of a bad job, and,

having no dish or bucket from which to give Satan a drink, I was obliged

to make him lie down close to the narrow hole, whilst into his willing

throat I poured the water which at arm's length I scooped up with my

quart pot. This tedious process finished, I still had a potful at my

disposal, so, taking a long drink myself, I stripped off my clothes and

indulged in a shower bath, Not a luxurious bathe certainly, and a larger

supply would have been acceptable, but every little helps, and even a few

drops of fresh water have a pleasant effect on one's body made sticky by

the salt of the water from the lakes, and serve to remind the traveller

that he has once been clean.

Leaving the rock at sundown I travelled well into the night, for progress

was slow through the scrub and trees in the darkness, but little relieved

by the light of a waning moon. Feeling sure that I had gone far enough,

I was preparing to rest awhile and find our camp in the morning, when the

welcome glow of a fire shot up through the branches. Jim and Paddy, with

characteristic thought and resource, had climbed to the top of two tall

and dead gum trees and there built fires, fanned by the fierce draught

through the hollow trunks, knowing well at what a short distance a fire on

the ground is visible in this flat country. During my absence they had

found no gold, but, as they liked the look of the country, we decided to

return to our condensers for a fresh supply of water. Having obtained

this, Egan and I revisited our previous prospecting ground, leaving Jim

behind to "cook" water against our return; and a more uninteresting

occupation I cannot well picture. Camped alone on a spit of sand,

surrounded by a flat expanse of mud, broiled by the sun, half blinded by

the glare of the salt, with no shade but a blanket thrown over a rough

screen of branches, and nothing to do but to stoke up the fires, change

the water in the cooling-trough, and blow off the salt from the bottom of

the boilers, he was hardly to be envied. Yet Jim cheerfully undertook the

job and greeted us on our return, after four days, with the smiling remark

that his work had been varied by the necessity of plugging up the bottom

of one of the boilers which had burned through, with a compound (a patent

of his own) formed from strips of his shirt soaked in a stiff paste of

flour. That night we were astonished by the passage of a flight of ducks

over our heads, which Egan saw, and I and Conley heard distinctly.

A detailed account of our wanderings would be as wearying to the reader as

they were to ourselves, a mere monotonous repetition of cooking water and

hunting for "colours" which we never found. Christmas Eve, 1894, saw us in

the vicinity of Mount Monger, where a few men were working on an alluvial

patch and getting a little gold. A lucky storm had filled a deep clay-hole

on the flat running north-west from the hills, and here we were at last

enabled to give the camels a cheap drink; for over six weeks we had not

seen a drop of fresh water beyond what, with infinite labour, we had

condensed, with the one exception of the small rock-hole I found at

Cowarna. My entry in my journal for Christmas Day is short and sweet:

"Xmas Day, 1894. Wash clothes. Write diary. Plot course." We had no

Christmas fare to make our hearts glad and but for the fortunate arrival

of my old friend David Wilson, who gave us a couple of packets of

cornflour, would have had a scanty feast indeed.

Even in the remote little mining camp Santa Claus did not forget us, and

spread his presents, in the form of a deluge of rain, on all alike. What a

pleasant change to get thoroughly wet through! The storm hardly lasted

twenty minutes, but such was its violence that every little creek and

watercourse was soon running, and water for weeks to come was secured and

plentiful in all directions; but so local is a summer storm that five

miles from the camp, no water or signs of rain were to be seen. Our

provisions being finished, nothing remained but to make all speed for

Coolgardie, some fifty miles distant by road. Unencumbered by the

condensers, which were abandoned as useless since the bottom of both

boilers had burned through, we made fair time, reaching a good

camping-ground two miles from the town on the evening of the second day,

the 30th of December.

CHAPTER III

A FRESH START

Four days sufficed to make preparations for another trip, to hear and read

the news, and write letters. My first, of course, was to my Syndicate, to

report our past movements and future plans, and how I intended making

northward, hoping that change of direction would change our luck.

January 4th we set out with the same three camels, and rations for three

months. My plan was first to revisit some known good country to the south

of Hannan's, and, if unsuccessful, to travel from that point in a more or

less north-north-west direction, and so follow, instead of crossing, the

trend of the various formations; for in travelling from east to west, or

VICE VERSA, one crosses a succession of parallel belts, first a

sand-plain, then a ridge of granite, next a timbered flat, then a stretch

of auriferous country, with possibly a belt of flat salt-lake country on

either side. Since these parallel belts run nearly north-north-west, it

seemed to the mind of the untrained geologist that by starting in a known

auriferous zone, and travelling along it in a north-north-west direction,

the chances of being all the time in auriferous country would be

increased, and the plan worth trying.

Passing the homestead of the Hampton Plains Land Company, where I was

given valuable information and a map by the courteous and kind manager,

Mr. Anderson (now alas! dead, a victim to the typhoid scourge), we

continued on the Lake Lefroy road as far as the Fourteen Mile rock-hole.

This contained water, but so foul that the camels would not look at it.

Nor were we more successful in our next water-hole, for it contained a

dead horse. Leading to this Namma-hole, which was prettily situated on a

low rock at the foot of a rough, broken ridge of granite, surrounded by

green and shady kurrajongs, we found a curious little avenue of stones.

These were piled up into heaps laid in two parallel rows, and at intervals

between the heaps would be a large boulder; evidently this was the work of

aboriginals, but what meaning to attach to it we could not think. The

beginning of our journey promised well for water, for we were again

favoured by a local thunderstorm which, in clay-pans and swamps, left a

plentiful supply. Mr. Anderson had told me of some hills in which he had

found gold in small quantities, and sure enough wherever we tried a "dish

of dirt," colours were sure to result. A pleasant camp was this, plenty of

water, numberless quartz reefs, every prospect of finding payable gold,

and feed of the best kind in profusion--a welcome change for our beasts.

They were shedding the last of their winter coats, and, as the weather was

hot, I hastened the transformation by pulling off great flakes of wool

with which Egan stuffed one of the saddles. Poor Misery had an

uncomfortable experience here in consequence of catching the rings of his

hobble-chain in the broken stump of a bush, so that he was held captive

all night.

The advance of civilisation was marked by the appearance of a small herd

of bullocks, evidently stragglers from "Hannan's," and had we been further

from that place I do not doubt that our desire for fresh beef might have

overcome our conscientious scruples. Virtue, however, was rewarded, for on

awakening one morning I saw advancing towards our camp, with slow and

solemn curiosity, two emus, peering now this way, now that, examining our

packs and other gear with interest and delight. Choosing the younger bird,

I took aim with my Winchester, and dropped him; the report of the rifle

startled my companions from their sleep with the thought that we were

perhaps attacked by the blacks, for emus are even less numerous than they.

But their surprise was not greater than that of the surviving bird, as he

gazed spellbound at his dead mate, whom we found most excellent eating.

Great as the temptation was to have a shot at the remaining bird, I

resisted it, as from the one we could get sufficient meat for our

requirements, and it seemed a shame to take the life, for mere pleasure,

of the only wild creature we had seen for many weeks.

Tiring at length of prospecting reefs, blows, and alluvial with no better

result than an occasional pin's-head of gold, we turned our faces to the

north, passing again the herd of cattle wallowing in the swamps and pans

of rain water.

Clay-pans usually occur in the neighbourhood of salt lakes, and are merely

shallow depressions with smooth clay bottoms. Though as a rule not more

than a few inches to a foot in depth, I have seen them in places holding

four to five feet of water. Immediately after rain all clay-pans are

fresh, before long some will turn salt; those containing drinkable water

are often distinguishable by the growth of cane grass which covers the

bed, a coarse, rush-like grass of no value as food for stock. Dry for

three-quarters of the year, these pans, with their impervious bottoms,

hold the rain, when it fills them, for a considerable period.

Salt-water pans are pellucid and clear, as the inexperienced may find at

his cost. One thirsty day, having tramped many miles horse-hunting,

deceived by a crystal-clear sheet of water, I plunged in my head and

hands, and, before I realised my mistake, took a deep draught with most

unpleasant results. I have been more careful since that catastrophe. An

effective method of clearing muddy clay-pan water is by dropping into it a

sort of powdery gypsum, called "Kopi" by the natives, which is usually to

be found round the margin of the salt lakes--a wonderful provision

of Nature, without which the water after a short time would be useless,

becoming as it does red and thick, and of the consistency of strong cocoa.

Amongst the many industries started on the goldfields is the novel

occupation of clearing clay-water for salt. The process was carried out by

means of a series of settling tanks, into which the water was led by

drains, and into the last tank the kopi was thrown; the cleared water was

then bailed into vessels or casks, and carted up to whatever mining camp

was being thus supplied.

Whilst on the subject of industries, I may mention that of obtaining

solder from meat-tins by piling them into large heaps and lighting a fire

over them. The melted lumps of solder thus formed were collected by the

ordinary process of dry-blowing, and sold to tinsmiths and others engaged

in the manufacture of condensers. Certainly the scarcity of water was not

an unmixed curse, for it gave employment to many who would otherwise have

been hard put to it to gain a living. Dam-makers, well-sinkers,

water-carters, tinsmiths, condenser-fitters, wood-cutters, employees on

condensing plants, water-bag makers, caretakers at Government wells, dams,

and soaks, engineers, and many more, all found employment either directly

or indirectly in connection with water supply.

By sinking in the bed of dry clay-pans water can usually be obtained, but

unfortunately it is almost sure to be salt. The difference between

clay-pans before and after rain is most marked. First we have the dry,

hard bed of red clay, blistered and cracked into all manner of patterns by

the sun's heat; around us the stillness of death, nothing astir unless it

be the constant shimmering haze of heat which strikes our faces like the

blast from a furnace. Rain falls, and within a few hours the air will be

filled with the croaking of frogs and the cackling of ducks.* To my mind

it is one of the most incomprehensible things in Nature that wildfowl

(for not only ducks, but sometimes swans and geese are seen) know when and

where rain has fallen.

[* Sir John Forrest, in his exploration of 1874, found ducks, geese, and

swans on Lake Augusta--a salt lake in the arid interior, five hundred

miles from the coast.]

But, stranger still, how do they know it is going to fall? That they would

seem to do so the following will go to show. Whilst we were condensing on

Lake Lapage, one moonlight night we saw a flight of ducks fly over us to

the northward. No surface water then existed anywhere near us. This was on

December 16th. No rain fell in the district until December 25th, but I

ascertained afterwards that rain fell at Lake Carey, one hundred miles

north of Lake Lapage about the same date that we had seen the ducks. The

exact date I am not sure of, but in any case the ducks either foresaw the

rain or knew that rain had fallen at least two hundred miles away; for

they must have come from water (and at that season there was no surface

water within one hundred miles of us) and probably from the coast. In

either case, I think it is an extremely interesting fact, and however they

arrive the ducks are a welcome addition to the prospector's "tucker-bags."

CHAPTER IV

A CAMEL FIGHT

Leaving Hannan's on our left, we continued our northerly course, over flat

country timbered with the usual gum-forest, until we reached the

auriferous country in which our camp had been robbed by the blacks;

nothing of interest occurring until January 17th, when we found ourselves

without water. Knowing that we must soon strike the road from Broad Arrow

to Mount Margaret, this gave us no anxiety, and, beyond the necessity of

travelling without having had a drink for eighteen hours, but little

discomfort.

We struck the road as expected, and, following it some five miles, came to

a small, dry creek running down from a broken range of granite. Sinking in

its bed, we got a plentiful supply. Mosquitoes are very rarely found in

the interior, but on this little creek they swarmed, and could only be

kept away by fires of sticks and grass, in the smoke of which we slept.

From the granite hills a fine view to the eastward was obtained, across a

rich little plain of saltbush and grass, and dotted here and there over it

was a native peach tree, or "quondong," a species of sandalwood. We had

now left the timber behind us, its place being taken by a low, straggling

scrub of acacia, generally known as "Mulga," which continues in almost

unbroken monotony for nearly two hundred miles; the only change in the

landscape is where low cliffs of sandstone and ranges of granite, slate,

or diorite, crop up, from which creeks and watercourses find their way

into salt swamps and lakes; and occasional stretches of plain country.

Through these thickets we held on our course, passing various

watering-places and rocks on the several roads leading to the then popular

field of Mount Margaret.

All such rocks bear names given to them by travellers and diggers, though

one can seldom trace the origin or author of the name, "Black Gin Soak,"

"George Withers' Hole," "The Dead Horse Rocks," and the "Donkey Rocks,"

are fair samples.

It was at the last named that we had a slight entertainment in the shape

of a camel-fight. On arrival we found another camel-man (i.e., a man who

prospects with camels instead of horses, not necessarily a camel-driver)

in whose train was a large white bull. Misery, with his usual precocity,

at once began to show fight. The owner of the white camel, a gentleman

much given to "blowing," warned me that his bull was the "strongest in

the ---- country," and advised me to keep my camels away. Anxious to see

how Misery would shape in a genuine bout, I paid no heed, but took the

precaution to remove his hobbles, thus placing him on equal terms with his

older and stronger adversary.

Before very long they were at it hammer and tongs, roaring and grunting to

the music of the bells on their necks; wrestling and struggling, using

their great long necks as flails, now one down on his knees and almost

turned over, and now the other, taking every opportunity of doing what

damage they could with their powerful jaws, they formed a strange picture.

Misery was nearly exhausted, and the white bull's master in triumph

shouted, "Take 'em off, beat 'em off; your ---- camel'll be chewed up!"

But no! With a last expiring effort, brave little Misery dived his long

neck under the body of his enemy, and grabbed his hind leg by the fetlock,

when a powerful twist turned him over as neatly as could be. It was now

time for us to interfere before the white bull's head was crushed by his

conqueror's knees and breast-bone. With sticks and stones we drove him

off, and the white bull retired abashed--but not more so than his master.

Leaving the rocks in possession of our late adversary we once more plunged

into the scrub, altering our course to the west with the object of

revisiting the country around Mount Ida, where Luck and I had found

colours. Our way lay between salt lakes on our left, and a low terrace or

tableland of what is locally known as "conglomerate" on our right. At the

head of a gully running from this we were fortunate in finding water,

sufficient to fill our casks, and give each camel a drink. This was on the

morning of January 25th, and until the 31st about noon we saw no further

signs of water. Every likely place was dry. Where Luck and I had found

water before, not a drop of moisture could be seen; the holes contained

nothing but the feathers and skeletons of disappointed birds. Unable to

stop at Mount Ida without packing water twenty-five miles, which the

prospects of the country did not warrant, we turned northwards across much

broken granite country, which we vainly searched for Namma-holes or soaks.

Far ahead of us we could see sharp pinnacles, standing up high and

solitary above the scrub. These turned out to be huge blows of white

quartz, and were no doubt connected underground, for we traced them a

distance of nearly thirty miles. Interesting as these were, our thoughts

were turned to water-hunting, for the weather--the season being

midsummer--was scorching; the poor camels, sore-footed from the stony

granite, parched with thirst, and forced to carry their loads, eight to

twelve hours a day, showed signs of distress. Weary and footsore

ourselves, tramping at full speed all day over the burning rocks, one with

the camels, the others on either hand, scouting, our casks all but empty,

our position was not enviable.

The night of the 30th our water was finished. The nearest known to us was

thirty-five miles off, and a a salt lake was between--a sufficient bar to

our hopes in that direction. Matters were by no means desperate, however,

for thirty miles north we were bound to cut the Cue-Mount Margaret road,

and having done so it would be merely a question of time, with a certainty

of arriving at a watering place eventually, if we and our camels could

hold out. A dry stage, however long, with the certainty of relief at the

end of it, gives little cause for anxiety when compared with one on which

neither the position nor even the existence of water can be known.

Next morning we followed up a small creek, and on crossing saw the tracks

of several kangaroos and emus making towards two peaks of quartz. Here was

our chance. It was my place of course to go, but I yielded to the

persuasion of Paddy and Jim, who insisted that I had denied myself water

to eke out our scanty supply (though I doubt if I had done so more than

they), and must rest. So, putting the camels down in the welcome shade of

a kurrajong, I lay down beside them and was presently relieved by the

sound of a revolver-shot, our signal that water was found.

What a beautiful sight it was! Nestling in the hollow between two great

white blows of quartz, this little pool of crystal-clear water, filled

evidently by a little gully falling over a steep ledge of quartz beyond,

presented no doubt a pretty picture after the rains. A soakage it must be,

for no open rock-hole could hold water in such terrible heat; and its

clearness would suggest the possibility of an underlying spring. A popular

drinking-place this, frequented by birds of all kinds, crows, hawks,

pigeons, galahs, wee-jugglers, and the ubiquitous diamond-sparrows. During

the night we could hear wallabies hopping along, but were too worn out to

sit up to shoot them. Though our sufferings had not been great, we had had

a "bit of a doing."

One day's rest, occupied in various mendings of clothes, boots, and

saddles, and we were off again to the north, cutting the track as

expected, and presently found ourselves at the newly established mining

camp of Lawlers, prettily situated on the banks of a gum-creek, with a

copious supply of water in wells sunk in its bed. A great advantage that

the northern fields have over those further south is the occurrence of

numerous creeks, sometimes traceable for over thirty miles, in all of

which an abundance of fresh water can be obtained by sinking at depths

varying from fifteen to fifty feet.

Towards the end of their course the well-defined channels, with banks

sometimes ten feet high, disappear, giving place to a grassy avenue

through the scrub, lightly timbered with cork-bark, and other small trees.

It is on such flats as these that the wells are sunk. All creeks find

their way into the lakes, though seldom by a discernible channel, breaking

and making, as the expression is, until a narrow arm of the lake stretches

to meet them. At the most these creeks run "a banker" three times during

the year, the water flowing for perhaps three days; after which pools of

various sizes remain, to be in their turn dried up by evaporation and

soakage. In the dry weather the creeks afford a weird spectacle. Stately

white gums (the only timber of any size in these districts), with their

silvery bark hanging in dishevelled shreds around the branchless stems,

bend ghost-like over an undulating bed of gravel; gravel made up of

ironstone pebbles, quartz fragments, and other water-worn debris washed

down from the hills at the head of the creeks.

What a marvellous transformation the winter rains cause! It is then that

the expert, or journalist, takes his walks abroad; it is then that we read

such glowing accounts of rich grass lands, watered by countless creeks,

only awaiting the coming of an agriculturist to be turned into smiling

farms and fertile fields.

Numerous parties were camped at Lawlers, with some two hundred horses

turned out in the bush, waiting until rain should fall. Though with no

better feed than grass, dry and withered, the freedom from work had made

them skittish. What a pretty sight it is to see a mob of horses trooping

in for water at night; the young colts kicking up their heels with

delight; the solemn old packhorse looking with scorn on the gambols of his

juvenile brethren, with a shake of his hardy old head, as much as to say,

"Ah! wait till you've done the dry stages that I have; wait till you make

your evening feed off mulga scrub and bark--that'll take the buck out of

you! Why can't you have your drink soberly, instead of dancing about all

over the place?"

Then bringing up the rear, far behind, just emerging from the scrub, are

seen those who, from their wandering habits, must wear the bracelets,

hurrying and shuffling along with a rattle of chains, tripping up in their

eagerness to be even with their mates in the scramble for water: presently

they pause to look about and neigh--a delay resented by those behind by a

friendly bite, answered by a kick; which starts them all off at full

gallop, in the approved rocking-horse style, with a tremendous clatter of

hobbles and bells. Suddenly they halt, snorting, and as suddenly start

aside, wheel round, and dash away, as they catch sight of our long-necked

beasts. They have seen them often enough, and know them well, but they

must keep up an appearance of panic, if only to please their masters, who

never cease to jeer at the ungainly shape of the camel, until they possess

one themselves. These unemotional animals watch the horses' play with lips

turned up in derision, and hardly deign to move their heads from the bush

or branch on which they are feeding. Many of the prospectors, though

openly sneering at the camels as slow and unmanageable beasts, secretly

envied us our ability to travel in hot weather, whilst they had nothing to

do but to kick their heels and be thankful they had feed and water for

their ponies. And they envied us all the more on account of the vague

rumour that rich gold had been found in the neighbourhood of Lake Darlot,

towards which some had pushed out only to be driven back by thirst. Seeing

our evident advantage, should the rumour prove correct, in being able to

get there before the crowd, I decided to steer for the lake, with the hope

of picking up the tracks of the supposed lucky diggers.

A large creek, the Erlistoun, was given on the chart as running into the

lake, and on it was marked by the discoverer Mr. Wells, of the Elder

Exploring Expedition, 1892, a permanent pool. To cut this creek was my

object, and, by following its course, to find the pool, and there make a

base from which to investigate the truth of the rumour.

Leaving Lawlers February 7th we struck an arm of the lake on the 10th

the country traversed being mostly sand plain, timbered with desert-gum.

To reach the creek it was necessary to cross the lake; and what a job we

had, twisting and turning to avoid one arm, only to be checked by another;

carrying packs and saddles across what we supposed to be the main lake,

only to find ourselves on an island. All things have an end, even the

ramifications of a salt lake, and eventually we and our mud-plastered

camels found ourselves on the northern shore; and travelling east,

expected confidently to cut the Erlistoun creek. By its position on the

map we should have already crossed it but to make sure we went on five

miles more, when our passage was barred by another salt lake not marked on

the chart. It was clear that the creek did not reach Lake Darlot. Where

could it be? Was it worth while to look for it further? It was evident how

it came to be so shown on the map. Mr. Wells had cut the creek near its

source and seeing only one lake to the south, naturally supposed that

it was joined by the creek, and so had marked its probable course by a

dotted line. His work, copied on to other maps had been carelessly drawn,

and the creek shown running in a defined channel into Lake Darlot. That

this was the case I found afterwards on studying his original chart.

Now to decide our best course! Again our supply was all but done, but we

knew of no water save Lawlers, sixty miles away, and to attempt to return

to that, recrossing the lake was manifestly absurd. To the south-west we

could see some hills which might or might not be granite. We were inclined

to think that they were, as in the setting sun of a few nights before they

had taken a ruddy glow. These rocks appeared to be our only chance.

It has always seemed to me better in such cases to make people follow

one's own wishes by seeming to consult theirs, rather than by a direct

order. Acting on this plan, though with my own mind made up, I consulted

with my two mates. I felt sure that Jim would agree with me, from a remark

he had made to a mutual friend to the effect that "he would follow me to

h--l." Of paddy I was not so sure; nor was I mistaken. He strongly

advised turning back, but, having agreed to abide by the majority, said no

more, and so to the hills we turned our steps.

Our hopes that the two lakes were separate were soon shattered, for before

us lay a narrow neck connecting the two. There was nothing for it but to

go straight ahead. The lightest-packed camel crossed without mischance,

but not so the other two; down they went, too weak to struggle, and again

the toil of digging them out, and driving and hauling them foot by foot,

had to be gone through. Then the packs had to be carried piece by piece,

for we sank too deep in the sticky mud with a heavy load, and our weary

legs had to be dragged step after step from the bog. Hungry and thirsty,

blistered by the glare of the salt in the pitiless sun, we struggled on,

with a wondering thought of what the end would be.

Think of us, picture us, ye city magnates, toiling and struggling that

your capacious pockets may be filled by the fruits of our labour: think of

us, I say, and remember that our experiences are but as those of many

more, and that hardly a mine, out of which you have made all the profit,

has been found without similar hardships and battles for life! Not a

penny would you have made from the wealth of West Australia but for us

prospectors--and what do we get for our pains? A share in the bare sale of

the mine if lucky; if not, God help us! for nothing but curses and

complaints will be our portion. The natural rejoinder to this is, "Why,

then, do you go?" To which I can only answer that one must make a living

somehow, and that some like to make money hard, and some to make it

easily. Perhaps I belong to the former class.

Whatever the reason, the fact remains that in the heat of the summer we

were ploughing our way through salt-bogs, without water or any immediate

prospect of getting any, and realised, not for the first time, that the

prospector's life in West Australia is not "all beer and skittles."

The lake negotiated, we decided to rest under the scanty shade of a mulga

tree, and regaled ourselves on oatmeal washed down with a mouthful of

water, the last, hot from the iron casks. At a time when water is

plentiful it can be carried and kept cool in canvas bags; but it owes

this coolness to evaporation, and consequent waste of water. During the

hot weather, when water is scarce, I never allowed canvas bags to be used,

and so saved water, not only by avoiding evaporation, but from the fact

that water carried in galvanised-iron casks becomes so hot and unpalatable

that one is not tempted to take a big draught, and thus the supply is eked

out.

That night we camped in the thick mulga, and from one of the larger trees

I could see the hills, dead on our course, and not more than two miles

off. But we were too tired to go further that night, and in any case could

have done but little good in the dark. The poor camels were too dry to

eat the mulga we cut for them, too dry even to chew the cud; and lay

silent, tied down beside us--the stillness of the night being unbroken by

the rhythmical "crunch" of their jaws.

Before sunrise we were packed and away, and shortly reached the hills

which we found to be, as we had hoped, bare granite rocks. Leaving the

camels, we spread out, and searched every hole and corner without success.

Every rock-hole was dry. One native soak we found, from which we scraped

about half gallon of water none too clear, and the less tempting from the

close proximity of the dead body of a gin, a young native woman,

fortunately not long dead. The ashes of a native camp but lately deserted,

could be seen close by; no doubt they had moved off as the supply of water

was so nearly done. Whether they had left the body to become a skeleton,

before making a bundle of the bones (a practice common to some Australian

tribes), or whether it is their usual custom to leave the dead where they

die, I do not know. I know, however, that this body was subsequently

moved, not by the blacks, but by those snarling scavengers, the dingoes.

This finding of a corpse at the mouth of the only soak we had seen was

hardly encouraging; but still there was a large extent of rocks that we

had not yet visited. Shortly before sunset, as I stood on the summit of

the highest rock, I was astonished by the sight of some horses grazing in

a little valley beneath. I could hardly believe that I saw aright; it

seemed incredible that horsemen should have reached this drought-begirt

spot. Little time was wasted in idle speculation, and the appearance of

our camels soon proved the horses to be flesh and blood, and not mere

phantoms of the brain, unless indeed phantoms can snort and plunge!

The owner of the horses soon made his appearance, and, with reluctant

resignation, showed us the soak from which his horses were watered. He and

his mates, he said, were sinking for water in a likely spot some half-mile

away; in the meantime they used the soak, though it was evident it would

not last much longer. We must have water for our camels, and must use the

soak, I said, until their thirst was somewhat relieved, then in our turn

we would dig for soaks round the rocks. In the hottest time of the year

our poor patient beasts had been eight days without food, except of the

driest description, and eight days without water, struggling and kicking

in the salt-bogs. It was indeed a delight to quench their thirst at last.

All that night we worked without a minute's rest, digging, scraping, and

bailing, and secured enough to keep the camels going. For the next two

days we were engaged in sinking trial holes for soakages; no water,

however, rewarded our labours until the night of the second day, when we

struck a splendid supply, and for the time being our troubles were over.

Pitching a "fly" to keep off the sun's rays in the daytime, we were

content to do nothing but rest for the whole of the next day. Here again I

was fortunate in shooting an emu, a welcome addition to our provisions.

McIlwraith and his mates (the owners of the horses) had also struck a good

supply. From them we got the news which we already suspected that a new

find of gold had been made not five miles from the rocks. An apparently

rich find too! How strangely things turn out. Our ill-fortune in failing

to find the Erlistoun had forced us into a most unpleasant experience,

and yet that ill-fortune was turning into good. For here we were on the

scene of newly-discovered reefs and nuggets, at the new rush, the

existence of which we had gravely doubted. We were the third party on the

field, and from Messrs. Rogers and friends I heard the history of its

discovery.

CHAPTER V

GOLD AT LAKE DARLOT

About the month of October, 1894, Rogers and party, with their camels,

were camped at Cutmore's (or Doyle's) Well, and, on studying the map of

the Elder Exploring Expedition, they saw that Mr. Wells had marked the

country north of Lake Darlot as "probably auriferous." This they

determined to visit, and, more fortunate than ourselves, were not caught

in the intricacies of the salt lake.

Returning in disgust, having found no signs of gold, they passed the

granites, where they got water, and camped on a promising piece of

country, where they soon found gold in the the reefs. Here they worked for

some time with but little encouragement, until after Christmas, when

alluvial gold was found on the surface by a member of another party who

came upon the original discoverers in a somewhat startling manner.

Cable, Janet, and Pickering had pushed out also from Cutmore's Well, and

by finding water on a granite between the two, had reached the rocks near

Lake Darlot. Here they found camped a tribe of aboriginals, to whom they

showed kindness--too much kindness it appears, for the treacherous

thieves, having tasted the white man's food, conceived the bold idea of

raiding the camp, killing its occupants, and annexing their provisions.

At midnight the prospectors were attacked, Cable and Janet being speared

as they lay in their blankets, Cable through the stomach and Janet in

the arm, Pickering escaping, for he had laid down his blanket under a

tree, away from the packs, to get shade from the moon. He is, too, a man

of exceptionally small stature, and so eluded the quick sight of the

black-fellow.

In spite of the disadvantage under which they were placed by the sudden

attack and wounds, the white men overpowered and dispersed their

treacherous foes. In what a terrible position they were now placed,

fifty-five miles from Cutmore's Well, the nearest certain water, for the

chances that the water found between would be dried up, were great! Only

one man unwounded and one suffering the most awful tortures of pain; and

nobody with the smallest medical skill, within God knows how many miles!

Death seemed certain, but while life remained they were not the men to

give in, and they thought of a plan whereby the life of their mate might

be saved if only their horses held out. They travelled five miles, then

camped, and the available man returned to the rocks to water the horses

at the risk of being again attacked by the niggers. And thus dot and go

one, they hoped to reach Cutmore's.

So much endurance could not remain unrewarded and the two wounded men were

overjoyed by the report of a shot (a dynamite shot as it afterwards

transpired, fired by Rogers, Parks, and Lockhart as they worked on their

reef), and as soon as the horses returned, the little band set forth in

the direction from which the welcome sound had come, and before long saw

the camp of the lucky prospectors.

Fortunately Mr. Parks had some knowledge of surgery, picked up in the

African bush, where he had been a trader, and so could doctor the wounded

men. Here they camped until one morning, Janet, recovered of his hurt,

picked up a nugget of gold, strangely enough, close to the track from

Roger's camp to the reef he was working. This nugget was the first-fruit

of a plentiful harvest, and presently they went down to the coast where

poor Cable could be properly attended to in hospital. Pickering and Janet

returned as soon as possible, but not before some inkling of their find

had leaked out; consequently when they returned, just at the time of our

arrival on the scene, their tracks were followed, and a "rush" set in.

We were not long in making our camp at the new diggings, or in getting to

work to hunt for gold. Being out for a syndicate, who naturally wanted

something big in the way of a reef, we were precluded from the alluring

search for alluvial, "specking," as it is termed.

It seems the simplest thing in the world to find a good mine--that is, as

I said before, after you have found it! On Sunday, February 17th, Paddy

and I took a walk, and stepped right on to an outcrop of quartz showing

beautiful gold. Quite simple! Any fool can prospect; all he wants is a

little luck, and the strange inner urgings that make him examine a certain

quartz reef or blow that others have passed, perhaps dozens of times,

without happening to look in the right place! Roughly marking out an area,

to establish our prior claim to the ground amongst those already on the

field, we returned to camp and gave Jim, who had been packing water from

the granites, the joyful news.

On Monday before daylight we were out, and soon had eighteen acres marked

off by a post at each corner, and our notices posted on a conspicuous

tree, which we had been unable to do the day before, Sunday-pegging being

illegal.

Fresh parties were now arriving daily, and the consequent demand for water

made it necessary for Jim to camp at the rocks, and bring us a supply

whenever he was able.

This was not accomplished without some trouble, for not only were the

soaks we had dug with so much labour, made use of by the new-comers,

which we did not object to, but our right to the water was often disputed

by some who, with small regard for the truth, said that it was they who

had sunk the wells! Jim, however, was not the man to be bluffed, and, in

spite of lameness from sciatica in the loins and hip, managed to keep us

well supplied. Short-handed already, we were further handicapped by Paddy

smashing his thumb, and thus, for a time, I was the only sound workman of

the party.

CHATTER VI

ALONE IN THE BUSH

By March 4th we were satisfied that the appearance of the mine was good

enough to warrant our applying for a lease of the area already marked out.

So leaving Czar behind, to enable Paddy and Jim to pack water, I, riding

Satan and leading Misery, loaded with specimens from the reef, set forth

for Coolgardie, to apply for the lease, and get a fresh supply of

provisions, of which we were sadly in need. My departure for Coolgardie

was taken advantage of by several who wished to bank their gold, and thus

I became an escort.

Coolgardie lay almost due south, 220 miles on the chart, but nearly 300

miles by the track, which deviated from water to water. Speed being an

object, I decided to strike through the bush to George Withers' hole.

Here, by the way, poor Alec Kellis had just been murdered by the

blacks--not the pleasantest of news to hear, as I started on my solitary

journey. I followed a horse pad for fifty-five miles, mostly through thick

scrub, to Cutmore's Well, where several parties were camped, who eagerly

questioned me as to the richness of the new field.

Leaving Cutmore's, I struck through the bush, and before long the sickness

I had had on me for some time past, developed into a raging fever. Every

bone in my body ached and shot with pain. I could neither ride nor walk

for more than a few minutes at a stretch; I was unable to eat, nor cared

to drink the hot water in my canteen. I struggled on, now riding, now

walking, and now resting under a bush, travelling in this fashion as long

as daylight lasted, from five in the morning until six at night. Afraid to

let the camels go at night lest they should wander too far, or, while I

was following them in the morning, my packs should be raided by the

blacks, I tied them down, one on either side of my blankets; and thus I

had not only a protection against the wind, but the pleasure of their

companionship--no slight blessing in that solitude.

How lonely I felt, in that vast uninhabited bush! Racked by pain, I tossed

from side to side, until sheer weariness kept me still; so still that the

silence of death seemed to have fallen upon us; there was not a sound in

all that sea of scrub, save the occasional sleepy grunt of one of the

camels, until the quiet night re-echoed with the hoarse call of the

"Mopoke," which seemed to be vainly trying to imitate the cheerful notes

of the cuckoo. How could any note be true in such a spot! or how could a

dry-throated bird he anything but hoarse! At last morning came, heralded

by the restless shuffling of the camels, and another day's journey began.

Tying the camels down at nights necessitated the cutting of scrub and

bushes for them to feed upon, and I doubt they got little enough to eat.

Before long I was too weak to lift the saddles off, and could only with

difficulty load and unload the bags of quartz, and, weakened as I was by

illness, my labours were not light. Yet further trouble was in store for

me, for presently a salt lake barred my way. Then I began to understand

the meaning of the word despair. Neither kindness or cruelty would induce

my camels to cross; I was therefore forced to follow the banks of the

lake, hoping to get round it, as I could see what I supposed was its end.

Here I was again baffled by a narrow channel not ten yards wide. It might

as well have been half a mile, for all the chance I had of crossing it.

The trend of the lake was north-west by south-east, and I was now at the

north-west end, but stopped, as I say, by a narrow channel connecting

evidently with another lake further to the north-west.

There was nothing for it but to retrace my steps, and follow along the

margin of the lake to the south-east, and eventually I got round, having

been forced some ten miles out of my course.

I was fortunate in finding water without difficulty, in a small rock-hole

amongst some granite hills in which "Granite Creek" takes its rise.

From these I had still eighty miles to travel before I could reach a

settlement, Coongarrie (the 90 mile) being the nearest point. Could I do

it? I had to succeed or perish miserably, and a man fights hard for his

life. So I struggled on day and night, stopping at frequent intervals from

sheer exhaustion, cursing the pitiless sun, and praying for it to sink

below the horizon. Some twenty miles from Coongarrie I was relieved by

striking a track, which did away with the necessity of thinking where I

was going.

A few miles more, and--joy unspeakable--I found a condenser and a camp.

The hospitable proprietor, whose name I never learned, did all he could to

make me comfortable, and I felt inclined to stay, but despatch was

imperative, for not only must the lease be applied for forthwith, but

Conley and Egan must be provisioned. At Coongarrie I gave a swagman a

lift, and he helped me with the camels and loads, until at last Coolgardie

was reached.

Giving my camels in charge of the first man I could find willing to look

after them, an Afghan, Neel Bas by name, I finished my business at the

Warden's office. Then, yielding to the persuasion of my friends in Asken

and Nicolson's store, I retired to the hospital, for indeed I could fight

against my sickness no longer. Here I remained some three weeks under the

kind care of Miss O'Brien (now Mrs. Castieau) and Miss Millar, the pioneer

nurses on the goldfields. No words can express the admiration I, and all

of us, felt for the pluck and goodness of these two gently nurtured

ladies, who had braved the discomforts and hardships of the road from York

to Coolgardie--discomforts that many of the so-called stronger sex had

found too much for them--to set up their hospital tent, and soothe the

sufferings of poor fever-stricken fellows.

The services of these kind ladies, and of many that subsequently followed

their example, were badly needed, for the typhoid fiend was

rampant--carrying off the young, and apparently strong, men at a rate too

tremendous to be credible. Funerals were too common to call for even

passing notice. "Unwept, unhonoured, and unsung," they went to a nameless

grave.

My chief anxiety was for my mates. How could I send them relief,

incapacitated as I was? Fortunately, my friend David Wilson offered to go

for me, in consideration of a certain interest in the mine we had found.

This was a great help, and now I could rest contented; not altogether

though, for Neel Bas had some hesitation in giving up the camels, and had

a violent row with Dave Wilson, all of which he would insist on explaining

to me in broken English, as he sat cross-legs on the floor of my tent. The

doctor happily arrived and kicked him out, and I was left in peace. In

less than three weeks I was able to go by coach to Southern Cross, and

thence by train to Perth, where, under the kind roof of Colonel Fleming,

the Commandant, I soon regained my health.

When I mention that my syndicate never even offered to defray the cost of

my illness, my readers will understand that my statements as to the

ingratitude of those who benefit by the prospectors' toil are not

unfounded. Unfortunately for me, my old mate, Lord Douglas, was absent

in England, and, in consequence, much misunderstanding resulted between

the syndicate and myself.

CHAPTER VII

SALE OF MINE

During my convalescence in Perth, I occupied my time by drawing in the

Government offices, a map, compiled from the various notes and journals I

had kept during the prospecting expeditions in which I had been engaged.

I also took the opportunity of getting some knowledge of astronomical

subjects, likely to be of service in the more extended expedition I had

in my mind. My thanks are due to Mr. Barlee, chief draughtsman, and

Mr. Higgins, of the Mines Department, for the kindness they showed in

helping me in this work.

It was not very long before I felt it was necessary to return to my

duties at Lake Darlot. Timing my arrival in Coolgardie to coincide with

that of Mr. Wilson from the mine, we met; and from him I was pleased to

hear how well the claim was turning out.

Since it was not necessary for both of us to be on the spot, I took one of

the camels, of which we now had five, and made all speed to a reported

"new rush" near Lake Lefroy, that was causing much excitement. Knots of

men could be seen in every corner of the town eagerly discussing the news;

gold, to the tune of 30,000 ounces, was being brought in; was in the town;

was actually in one of the banks! Many had seen it (or said so). Where was

this Eldorado? Every man knew; every man had directions how to get there,

from quite unimpeachable sources. It was actually in the local papers;

indeed, there could be no doubt about it. I knew of course that all this

must be discounted, but the matter was worth looking into, and I was

fortunate to get THE very latest information from one who was an old

mate of the supposed lucky digger. I found my travelling companion had

equally well authenticated information. On comparing notes we soon

discovered that our directions were entirely at variance.

To make a long story short, we at length found that, like hundreds of

others, we had been fooled, and that the whole thing was bogus. The

diggers' indignation was righteously intense, the office of the offending

newspaper was attacked, and much damage narrowly averted. One unfortunate

man, on whom fell the wrath of the crowd, returning from the supposed

rush, lied profusely when "in drink," said that he had found the spot,

that hundreds of men were gleaning rich gold in fabulous quantities, that

the world had never seen so wonderful a find, that gold would soon be as

cheap as lead in the market--in fact told a thousand and one similar fairy

tales, engendered by whisky and excitement. When sober he foolishly stuck

to what he had said; and, in consequence, was sent by the diggers, under

escort, to point out the spot, which of course he could not find. His

reception in Coolgardie may be imagined! Doubtless on the Western

goldfields of America, "lynching" would have been his portion. Even in

order-loving Australia he might have had an unpleasant time, had not

Mr. Finnerty, the popular Warden, quelled the turmoil, and placed the

offender under Police protection. For want of the real article, a

well-attended procession burnt this idiot's effigy, and thus the great

rush ended.

It was supposed by some, if I remember rightly, that the fire which gutted

nearly half the town had its origin in this effigy-burning. What a blaze

that was to be sure! Tents, shanties, houses of hessian, shops of

corrugated iron and wood, offices, hotels, and banks, consumed in one

sheet of flame in a matter of half an hour or so, the blaze accompanied by

explosions of dynamite caps, kerosene, and cartridges. Nothing could be

done to stay its fury. To save the town, houses were demolished, to form

wide gaps across which the flames could not reach. It was the general

impression that corrugated iron was more or less fireproof. However, it

burnt like cardboard. Ruinous to some as the early fires were, they

benefited the general community, as more substantial buildings were

erected, and hessian shanties forbidden.

After a good deal of unpleasant business over the mine at Lake Darlot,

which the syndicate wished to abandon, for reasons best known to

themselves, I was at length on the road for that district, with the

agreeable news that our mine was for sale, and would soon be off our

hands.

I had a rather more enjoyable journey than my previous one, for not only

was I free from fever, and the mine in a fair way to being sold, but

winter had changed the face of the bush from dull dead yellow to bright

smiling green, dotted here and there with patches of white and pink

everlastings. One could hardly believe it was the same country. Instead of

the intense heat a bright warm sun dissipated the keen and frosty air of

early morning, while the hoar-frost at night made one glad of a good

possum rug to coil oneself up in. I did not envy the cyclists, for

sometimes, failing to hit off a camp on the road, they had perforce to

make the best of a fire as a substitute for a blanket, and to be content

with a hungry stomach, in place of having a meal.

Before the erection of telegraph wires, which now connect all the more

important mining towns, cyclists made good money by carrying special

messages from Coolgardie to the outlying districts. Except where the sand

was deep they had a good track, well-beaten by the flat pads of camels,

and could do their hundred miles a day at a push. Travelling at express

rate, they were unable to carry blankets or provisions except of the

scantiest description, and took their chance of hitting off the camp of

some wayfarer, who would always be ready to show what hospitality he

could, to messengers of so much importance. To have to part with one of

your blankets on a cold night for the benefit of another traveller, is

one of the severest exercises of self denial.

These little kindly services are always rendered, for a man in the bush

who would not show courtesy and hospitality to a fellow-wayfarer is

rightly considered a cur. No matter what time one strikes a man's camp,

his first thought, whether for stranger or friend, is to put on the

"billy" and make a pot of tea.

Arrived at Lake Darlot, I found work being carried on well and with

energy, as could not fail to be the case where Dave Wilson was concerned.

Poor Jim and Paddy had had hard times, before Wilson arrived, to make the

provisions last out. Nevertheless they had worked away on the reef without

complaint, while others around them were waxing rich on the alluvial.

The population had increased to some two thousand men during my absence:

two thousand men working and living in order and peace, with no police or

officials of any kind within two hundred miles--a state of affairs of

which we may justly be proud.

Evil-doing, however, was not entirely absent, and occasional cases of

robbery of gold, or pilfering of tents occurred; the offenders in such

cases were usually caught and summarily dealt with.

A "roll up" would be called, and those who cared to put themselves

forward, would form judge, jury, police, and all. The general verdict was

notice to quit within so many hours--an order that few would dare to

neglect. A case in which this did happen occurred at Kurnalpi when a man

was caught passing bad notes in the "Sunday School." He refused to budge,

and, seeing that he was a great giant with the reputation of being the

roughest and hardest fighter in the country, the question arose who should

"bell the cat." The man who had been swindled was a stranger, and

unwilling to fight his own battle; who, therefore, would volunteer to get

a sound hammering from one of the toughest blackguards in Australia.

The "roll up" slowly dispersed, every man muttering that it was not his

business, and that, after all, passing a "stiff 'un" on to a new chum was

no great crime as compared to stealing gold or robbing a camp. In this I

think they showed sound judgment. The prize-fighting gent, however, became

too bumptious, and was eventually hustled out of the place.

Our camp at Lake Darlot was rather pleasantly situated on rising ground by

the side of the blow; behind us, sheer cliffs of conglomerate, worn and

weathered into queer little caves, the floors of which were covered inches

deep by the droppings of bats and small wallabies; and, stretching away

to the South, an open plain enclosed in an endless sea of scrub. Every

morning we witnessed the strange phenomenon of a lake appearing in the sky

to the South, miles away, above the scrub, a lake surrounded by steep

white cliffs. This mirage would last perhaps half an hour, and was, I

suppose, a reflection of Lake Darlot, which lay at the back of us, some

five miles distant to the North.

Our camp consisted of the usual tents and bough-shades and for the first,

and probably the only, time in our lives we cooked our pots on a golden

fireplace. To protect the fire from the wind, so that a good pile of ashes

should collect for baking purposes, we had made a semicircular wall of

stones. The nearest available stones, quartz boulders from the blow, were

used, and so it came about that we had a gold-studded fireplace! We used

to have a curious visitor from the caves--a small black cat, which was

tame enough to wander between our legs as we sat round the fire, but too

wary to be caught. I can hardly imagine a prospector carrying a cat as

companion, and yet how else did it get there? Its shyness inclined us to

think it had strayed from civilisation. Jim tried to catch it one evening,

and not only got scratched and bitten for his trouble, but so startled the

beast that it never returned. Our party was now increased to five; for an

extra hand, Alfred Morris, had been engaged. Between us the duties of the

day's work were divided.

Our daily labours included hunting up the camels, lest they strayed or

were stolen, cutting timber for mining or firewood, packing water from the

rocks five miles away, and working on the mine.

I had occasion to make a journey to Lawlers, where a Warden, Mr. Clifton,

had lately been established, and I mention here an illustration of one of

the many intelligent traits in the character of camels.

Not wishing to follow the road in its many turns from water to water, I

cut through the bush for some fifty miles. The first part was over hard,

stony ground, then came sand, then more stones, and then I struck the road

again about two miles from Lawlers. I stayed there two or three days,

intending to return on my tracks. Wishing to test the intelligence of my

camel Satan I allowed him a free rein, either to keep on the track or turn

off for a short cut. As soon as we came to the spot where we had first

struck the road, he turned into the bush without hesitation with his nose

for home. After some eight miles of stones, on which I could distinguish

no trail, we came to the sand, and at once I could see our former tracks

right ahead, which little Satan had followed with the precision of a

black-fellow.

In repasssing old camping-places on the road, camels will often stop, and

look surprised if made to go further. They have, too, an excellent idea of

time, and know very well when the day's march should come to an end.

With what sad reproof they look at one with their great, brown eyes, that

say, as plainly as eyes can speak, "What! going on? I am SO tired."

I fancy the reason that camels are so often described as stupid and

vicious, and so forth, is that they are seen, as a rule, in large mobs

under the care of Indian or other black drivers, whose carelessness and

cruelty (so far as my experience goes) are unspeakable. For that reason I

never have had an Afghan driver in my employ, nor can I see any advantage

in employing one, unless it be on the score of cheapness. Camels are

infinitely better managed and treated by white men--of course, I speak

within my own knowledge of Australia--and in consequence their characters

develop, and they are properly appreciated.

In due course the expected inspecting engineer came to see our mine, and,

as he had several reports to make, we had the pleasure of his company at

our camp, and very glad we were to do what we could for such a fine

specimen of an expert and gentleman as Mr. Edward Hooper. He was satisfied

with what he saw--indeed, he could hardly have been otherwise at that

period of the mine's existence; and on our arrival in Cue, wither we had

travelled part of the way together, a bargain was struck, and before many

days Jim and I returned with the glad tidings that the mine was sold, and

would be taken over forthwith.

The road from Cue was as uninteresting as all others on the goldfields--

miles of flat, sandy soil covered with dense scrub, an occasional open

plain of grass and saltbush round the foot of the breakaways, and cliffs

that are pretty frequently met with. Travellers on this road had been kept

lively by a band of marauding black-fellows, most of whom had "done time"

at Rotnest Jail for cattle-spearing, probably, on the coast stations.

Having learnt the value of white-fellows' food, they took to the road, and

were continually bailing up lonely swagmen, who were forced to give up

their provisions or be knocked on the head, since hardly any carried

firearms. The finest prize that they captured was a loaded camel, which in

some extraordinary way had got adrift from the end of a large caravan,

and wandered into the scrub. The Afghans, when they had perceived their

loss, tracked up the camel, only to find it dying in agony, with its knees

chopped nearly two. This was Jacky-Jacky's way of putting the poor beast

down to be unloaded. Happily, after a Warden was appointed at Lawlers, a

trooper was sent out, who broke up the gang and captured most of them, at

the expense of the life of one black tracker.

One of these thieves paid our camp a visit, but the sight of a rifle,

combined with a smart blow on the shins with a stick, quite satisfied him

that he had come to the wrong place.

Returned to Lake Darlot, we impatiently awaited the arrival of those who

were to take over the mine from us. At last they came, and it only

remained to pack up our traps, take the road to Coolgardie, and finish up

all business connected with the syndicate. There we parted, Conley and

Egan leaving with their shares; and with regret on both sides I think,

that our ways no longer lay together: for months of close companionship in

the bush, facing hardships and sometimes mutual dangers, make a close tie

of friendship between men, that is not easily broken.

Wishing to pay a visit to the old country, and yet not caring to part with

the camels which had been my property for some months past, and of which I

was very fond, we formed a syndicate, composed of Dave Wilson, Charles

Stansmore, and Alfred Morris, who found the money, and myself, who found

the camels, the profits of the venture, if any arose, to be divided in a

proportion agreed upon. I could depart, therefore, with the satisfactory

feeling of knowing that my faithful animal-friends would be well cared

for.

Shares were rising, the mine was sold, and the work done, and it was with

a light heart that I booked passage for London in October, 1895.

PART IV MINING

CHAPTER I

QUARTZ REEFING AND DRY-BLOWING

I would not, even if I had the requisite knowledge, wish to bore the

reader by giving a scientific account of gold-mining, but Western

Australia presents so many appearances differing from those in other

gold-producing countries, and so varied are some of the methods of

obtaining gold, that I hope a short account of the usual ways of winning

the precious metal, purely from a prospector's point of view, will be of

interest.

The area over which the goldfields extend, may be described as very gently

undulating country, from which rise, at intervals, low ranges or isolated

hills.* These ranges, in reality seldom over 200 feet above the plain,

have in the distance a far more important appearance. It is a common

experience to steer for a range, sighted from perhaps a distance of

fifteen miles, and find on closer inspection that it is no more than a low

line of rocks. It is equally common for a hill to appear as quite a

respectable mountain when seen from one point, but entirely to disappear

from view when seen from the opposite direction, so gentle is the slope.

[* Mount Burgess, the highest hill around Coolgardie, is about 500 feet

above surrounding country.]

These ranges, such as they are, occur at intervals of a few miles up to

thirty or more, and between them scrub-covered plains, sand-plains, or

flat stretches of open forest are found. In the deeper undulations, long

chains of dry salt-lakes and samphire-flats are met with, occupying a

narrow belt, perhaps one hundred miles in length. Doubtless were the

rainfall greater, these lakes would be connected, and take the place of

rivers, which would eventually find their way into the Australian Bight.

Unfortunately for the comfort of travellers, this is not the case, and

their water supply must depend upon one or other of the various sources

already described.

The first aim of a party of Western Australian prospectors is to find not

gold, but water. Having found this they make camp, and from it start short

excursions in all directions towards any hill that may be in sight.

Arrived at the hills, which, though bare of undergrowth, are usually

covered with low scrub, they can soon determine from the nature the rock

whether further search is likely to have good results. Should they see

hills of ironstone and diorite, or blows and outcrops of quartz, they

will certainly revisit the locality. In what manner, will depend upon the

distance from water. They may be able to form camp in the desired spot,

with water close at hand; or the party may have to divide, some camping in

the likely country, engaged in prospecting solely, while the others "tail"

the horses or camels at the watering-place and pack water to their mates.

In cases where "good gold is getting," water has sometimes been packed

distances of twenty to forty miles; or it may happen that good country

must be passed over, from the want of water within reasonable distance.

From his limited appliances and means, a prospector's object is to find a

vein or reef of gold-bearing ore, not by sinking, but from surface

indications.

Veins or reefs may be described as layers, which have been deposited in

fissures and cracks in the rock surrounding them. The enclosing rock is

known as the "country rock." "Lodes" are veins composed of a mixture of

quartz, ironstone, and other material, and usually exceed in width the

"reefs," which sometimes, as at Southern Cross, attain thirty feet, but

are rarely more than one to four feet in thickness. The part of a reef

showing above the surface is the "outcrop," which may appear either as a

mass or "blow" of quartz, sometimes sixty feet in height, or as a solid

wall or dyke which can be followed for perhaps five miles without a break;

the direction in which it runs is known as its "strike."

Reefs may go down vertically, or on a sloping "dip" or "underlay." The

country rock lying immediately above the reef is the "hanging wall," and

that immediately below, the "foot wall."

In prospecting a reef, a miner walks along the strike of the outcrop,

"napping" as he goes, i.e., breaking off with a hammer or pick, pieces of

the quartz or ironstone outcrop. Each fragment is carefully examined for

the presence of gold, which is nearly always found, if on the surface, in

a free state, that is to say, uncombined with any other mineral. If any

gold is present, it may occur in small specks as fine as flour, or in

large solid lumps as big as one's fist, as in Bayley's Reward Claim,

Londonderry, and one or two other mines. In the latter case the rich find

would immediately be pegged out as a claim, or lease, and work commenced,

the coarse gold being won by the simple process of "dollying" the ore;

or pounding it in an iron mortar with an iron pestle, and passing it when

crushed, through a series of sieves in which the gold, too large to fall

through, is held.

To estimate roughly the worth of a reef in which only fine gold is visible

it is necessary to take several samples along the outcrop, "dolly" them,

and wash the powdered quartz by means of two iron dishes, from which the

light material is floated off, leaving the gold behind. From a series of

experiments an idea can be formed as to whether the reef is worth further

work.

It will be found on napping a reef, that the gold occurs at more or less

regular intervals. This deposit of gold in the surface outcrop is the top

of a "shoot" of gold, which may be followed down on the underlay for many

feet. And this peculiarity in the distribution of the metal has been the

cause of much disappointment and misunderstanding.

Having determined that your reef is good enough on the surface, the next

thing to be done is to ascertain, by means of cuts and shafts, its nature

below the surface. This may be done either by an underlay shaft, which

follows the reef down from the surface, or by a vertical shaft, sunk some

distance away from the outcrop, to cut the reef perhaps one hundred feet

below.

By a series of shafts with drives, or galleries, connecting them when they

cut the vein, a more accurate estimate of the value of the reef can be

made.

Now in the case of a reef which has rich shoots a prospector, naturally

anxious to make his "show" as alluring as possible to any possible buyer,

sinks his trial shaft, on the underlay, through the shoots. And so it

might happen, that by carefully selecting the sites of his shafts, he

might have a dazzling show of gold in each one, and merely blank quartz

between them. A mining expert, usually only too ready to give a glowing

report, makes his estimates on the assumption that the quartz intervening

between the shafts is as rich as that visible in them, and the purchase

price increases accordingly.

Not only do shoots occur to puzzle the expert, gladden the heart of the

prospector, and madden the shareholder, but the eccentricity of gold is

further exemplified by the way in which it has been been deposited in

"pockets."

No better example of this could be given than the Londonderry Mine, where

gold to the value of many thousand pounds was won from quite a small hole

in the outcrop. At the bottom of this hole lumps of solid gold could be

seen, and inasmuch as other pockets, equally rich, had been found, it was

assumed by nearly all concerned that the reef was a solid mass of gold,

and the whole community was mad with excitement. However, when the

purchasers started work, it was soon discovered that the golden floor to

the golden hole only continued golden to the depth of three or four

inches, to the despair of the promoters and unlucky shareholders, as well

as of the numberless adjoining leaseholders, through whose property this

rich reef had been traced.

It seems incredible that a vein should run in more than one direction, and

yet it is made to do so, and to go North, East, South, or West, or to any

intermediate point of the compass, at the discretion of those responsible

for the prospectus! An unmistakable surface outcrop is not popular amongst

experts (it leaves no scope for the exercise of an elastic imagination),

whereas they cannot be expected to see under ground, and can then make

their reef run in the most suitable direction.

I do not think the much-abused expert is any more dishonest than other

folk, though he has more temptation. His bread and butter depends on his

fee, his fee depends, not on the accuracy of his report, but on the fact,

whether or no that report suits his employers. If, as often is the case,

he has to report on a "lease" whose only value is derived from its close

proximity to a rich show, and if that rich show only appears above the

surface in an isolated mass, and its direction of strike can only be

guessed at, and, above all, if he knows that his fee or future employment

depends on guessing that direction into the property under report, I think

he has been led into temptations from which most of us are exempt, and

which a good many would find it hard to resist. The term "expert" refers

only to the numerous army of "captains" and "mining experts" of mushroom

growth, for which the soil of the goldfields is so suitable, and is not

applied to the mining engineer of high standing, whose honourable and

straight dealing is unimpeachable.

Having brought the mine to such a state that it is ready to be purchased,

in which unsatisfactory position it sometimes remains for many long

months, I will now leave it, and will not touch upon "mills" and

"batteries," which are the same, or nearly so, in all countries, and are

outside the province of a prospector, who, from his limited capital, is

unable to erect the costly machinery necessary for the extraction of gold

from quartz on a large scale. Therefore the prospector parts with his mine

as soon as he can find a purchaser, usually an agent, who sells at a

profit to some company, which in its turn sells at a greater profit to the

British or Australian public.

The humbler prospector confines his attention to alluvial gold, that is to

say the gold which has been shed from the outcrop of the reef, by

weathering and disintegration. The present small rainfall, and the

evidence from the non-existence of river-beds, that the past rainfall was

no greater, go to show that this weathering is due to the sudden change in

temperature between night and day, the extreme dryness of the atmosphere,

and strong winds. Without any rush of water it is not possible for any

great depth of alluvial soil to have been formed, nor can the gold have

been carried far from the reef, or reefs, in which it has its origin. For

this reason, though exceptionally rich in places, the alluvial diggings

have never been either of great extent, or depth, or of general richness.

In many places the alluvial soil is not more than a few inches in

depth. It is in such places that "specking" may be carried on, which

consists in walking slowly about with eyes to the ground, and picking up

any nuggets that may be seen. Many thousand ounces of gold have been found

in this simple manner. Where, however, the alluvium is deeper, a

considerable amount of labour must be expended before gold can be won. In

countries blessed with abundant rainfall the nuggets can be separated from

the dirt by a comparatively simple arrangement of sluices and cradles. In

the drought-stricken west of Australia other means must be adopted, which

I will endeavour to describe.

Having picked and dug out a certain amount of the alluvial ground which,

it is hoped, contains nuggets of various sizes, the digger then breaks up

any lumps of clay or earth by means of a heavy billet of wood, or like

implement, and this prepared dirt, as it is called, he treats in one of

the following ways:--

1. BY MEANS OF TWO IRON DISHES, in diameter 15 to 18 inches, and in depth

4 to 5 inches.

One dish is placed empty on the ground, the other, filled with the

prepared dirt, is held up at arm's length above the head, with the mouth

of the dish turned to the wind; the earth is then allowed to fall

gradually into the dish beneath, all light particles and dust being blown

away by the wind. Exchange of dishes having been made, the same process is

repeated again and again. When there is only a small amount of dust left,

the full dish is held in both hands, and given a circular movement, which

causes the larger stones or pebbles to come to the surface; these are

cleared away with the left hand, and a sharp look out is kept for nuggets

or quartz specimens. This is repeated until nothing is left in the dish

but a small quantity of dust, ironstone-gravel, and possibly fine gold, or

small nuggets. The dish is then held up at an angle, and shaken from side

to side until a compact little heap remains, to the bottom of which the

gold will have sunk. The next and final operation is to hold the dish up

to the mouth nearly horizontally, and blow the little heap across the

dish. Any fine gold will then be seen lying on the bottom just under the

nose of the operator.

Given a good hot summer's day, flies as numerous as the supply of water is

scanty, clouds of dust, little or no breeze, and the same quantity of

gold, and a few score of men working within an area of nine or ten acres,

one is sometimes tempted to think that gold may be bought too dear. But

the very lowest depths of despair, cannot compare with the heights of

satisfaction, attained after a successful day's "dry-blowing."

2. BY MEANS OF TWO DISHES, AND A TRIPOD STAND AND PULLEY.

A tripod, twelve or fifteen feet high, is set up over a hard and smooth

piece of ground. By a rope and pulley the full dish is hauled up as far as

required; the rope is then made fast and a string, fixed to the edge of

the dish, is pulled, and the dish tipped up allowing the dirt to fall on

to the prepared surface below, where it is swept up and treated as in the

first method described. With a fair breeze this is a very effectual way of

getting rid of the fine dirt.

3 BY MEANS OF A SIEVE.

This method is only suitable when the soil is wet and sticky, or where the

nuggets are fairly large and not too rare.

On the first rush to Kurnalpi, where more alluvial gold was found in a

short time than on any other field, sieves were almost the only implements

used.

A sieve is very useful for prospecting the surface soil, being more

portable and more rapidly worked than the dishes.

A combination of these three methods is found in the DRY BLOWING MACHINE.

It has always been a hotly debated question, whether what is known as the

"Cement" comes under the heading of "reefs" or "alluvial." This cement is

composed of angular quartz-fragments, broken from the reefs or veins,

and fragments of diorite and hornblende schists, cemented together by

lime; it is very hard and solid and, in places, continues to a depth of

over twenty feet. The gold is extracted from these depths by crushing and

dry-blowing. I have mentioned this peculiar composition last, as I am not

at all clear to which class of formation it belongs.

At first this cement, which the shallow alluvial ground overlies, was

supposed to be "bottom," that is to say, that there was considered no

likelihood of gold being found at a greater depth. Later developments,

however, have proved this theory to be wrong, and with regard to this I

cannot do better than quote extracts from a report made by

Mr. E. P. Pittman, Government Geologist of New South Wales, in which

he says:--

"He had considered the question of deep-leads of alluvial, and after

visiting Coolgardie, Kalgoorlie, and Kanowna, he thought it probable that

there would shortly be a large output of alluvial gold from this source.

In Coolgardie the dry-blowing had been confined to a very shallow depth,

and yet close to Coolgardie--in Rollo's Bore--there was evidence of the

existence of a very deep valley. He produced a specimen, taken by him

from an alluvial working near the Boulder Mine, showing what the

dry-blowers had all through regarded as the natural floor of the alluvial.

Below this floor they had never penetrated until the enterprising

prospector at Kanowna recently did so, and followed the lead down to

fifty feet.

" . . . He was satisfied that the alluvial went down to a depth at

Kalgoorlie just as it did at Kanowna. All the conditions were favourable

to deep-leads of alluvial.

" . . . Rollo's Bore at Coolgardie had proved the existence of alluvial

gold at great depths.

" . . . So far the alluvial men had been working on a false bottom."

At the time of writing, some two thousand men have found profitable

employment in working this newly discovered deposit; and doubtless

conditions similar to those found at Coolgardie, Kalgoorlie, and Kanowna,

will be proved to hold on other alluvial fields, formerly supposed to be

worked out.

How hotly debated this "cement question" has been may be judged from the

fact that, at the time of writing, riots are reported from Kalgoorlie,

during which the Premier was hooted and stoned. This cowardly act could

hardly be the work of genuine diggers, and could doubtless be traced to

the army of blackguards and riffraff who have, of late years, found their

way to the goldfields.

It would be idle to discuss here the questions of "who is right" and

"who is wrong." A great deal can be said on both sides. Let us hope the

controversy will be settled to the satisfaction of both parties; that the

diggers will not be turned off what is justly theirs, to benefit

leaseholding companies, nor leaseholders deprived of their rights.

PART V THE OUTWARD JOURNEY

CHAPTER I

PREVIOUS EXPLORERS IN THE INTERIOR OF WESTERN AUSTRALIA

I had not been enjoying the comforts of civilised life for long before I

had a letter from Dave Wilson telling me how he and our mates had pegged

out, and applied for, a lease which gave every promise of doing well.

In April, 1896, I returned to Australia, and made speed to our new

property, which I found to be in every respect as satisfactory as Wilson

had told me. To be in the possession of a good mine, and to find someone

anxious to change places on terms mutually agreeable, are two very

different things. We were fortunate, however, in finding a purchaser, but

not fortunate enough to bring him up to the scratch with any promptitude.

I had hoped to have had all preparations for the projected expedition

complete by the beginning of May, in order that by the time the hot

weather came on we should be well on our way, if not at the end of our

journey. The Fates ordered things differently, and it was not until the

middle of June that I was free to turn my attention to the thousand and

one details connected with the composition and equipment of my party.

With what keenness I entered into the preparations may be well imagined,

for now at last I was in a position to undertake the expedition I had so

long in my mind. In order to explain what my object was, and what my plan

of procedure was to be, it will be necessary to give a short sketch of the

history of exploration and advance of settlement in Western Australia.

The Colony, occupying one third of the continent, has an extreme length of

1,500 miles and a breadth of one thousand miles. The length of coast-line

exceeds three thousand miles. A most noticeable feature of the coast-line

on the South is the entire absence of rivers--for nearly seven hundred

miles no rivers or even watercourses are met with. Along the Western coast

rivers are fairly frequent, the largest being the Swan, Murchison,

Gascoyne, Ashburton, the Fortescue, and De Grey. The Swan, on which the

capital is situated, is the most important--the rivers North of this are

not always running, the seasons in the country where they rise being very

unreliable. Further North again, where Warburton's Desert abuts on the

sea, we find an inhospitable sandy beach (the Eighty-mile Beach), along

which no river mouths are seen. In the far North, the Kimberley Division,

the coast-line is considerably indented by bays, gulfs, and the mouths of

rivers of fair size, which run for the greater part of the year; of these

the most important are the Fitzroy, Lennard, Prince Regent, and Ord. The

Colony can boast of no great mountain ranges, the highest, the Darling

Range, being something over 2,000 feet. The Leopold range in the north is

of about the same altitude. No mountain chain breaks the monotony of the

central portions of the Colony. In the interior hills are called

mountains, and a line of hills, ranges, for want of a better name.

The first settlement was formed on the Swan River in 1826, and gradually

spread to the South and North, until to-day we find the occupied portion

of the Colony extending along the western seaboard for about 1,200 miles,

with an average breadth of perhaps two hundred miles. In the North the

occupied country is confined to the watersheds of the two main rivers,

the Fitzroy and the Ord.

To the Eastward of Perth the populous mining towns and many scattered

mining camps and settlements extend some five hundred miles towards the

interior. In spite of the discovery of gold and the advance of the Colony

in every way, there still remains more than half the province unoccupied.

How scattered the population of the settled country is may be judged from

the fact that the average population is one individual to every six square

miles. The vast, almost unknown, interior well merits its designation of

"Desert," and I suppose that in few parts of the world have travellers

had greater difficulties to overcome than in the arid, sun-dried

wilderness of interior Australia. The many attempts to penetrate beyond

the head-waters of the coastal rivers date from the earliest days of the

Swan River Settlement. But in every case travellers, bold and enduring,

were forced back by the impassable nature of the sandy deserts--impassable

to all except camels. Roe, Hunt, Austin, and the Gregorys made more than

one effort to solve the mysteries of the interior. Numerous attempts were

made to cross the Colony from West to East or VICE VERSA, with the double

object of ascertaining whether the nature of the country rendered it

suitable for settlement, and of establishing some means of communication

with the sister colonies to the East.

The first who succeeded in travelling overland from South to West

Australia was Eyre, afterwards made governor of Jamaica. He started in

1841, and his route hugged the coast-line along the shores of the Great

Australian Bight, and is now closely followed by the telegraph line. In

spite of almost insurmountable obstacles in the form of waterless regions,

almost bare of vegetation, in spite of mutiny in the camp, and the murder

of his white companion by one of the black-boys, the loss of his horses,

in spite of starvation and thirst, this gallant man battled his way

across, finishing his journey on foot with one companion only, a faithful

black-boy. Lucky it was that this district is blessed with a plentiful dew

in the cool weather, otherwise Eyre's horses could never have lasted as

long as they did. This journey was successfully accomplished again in 1879

by Forrest (now Sir John Forrest, Premier of West Australia) who, keeping

somewhat to the north of Eyre's track, had comparatively little difficulty

in finding water.

Some 150 miles to the northward, the Colony was traversed from East to

West by Giles in 1876, who found it to be a flat, sandy wilderness of

scrub, alternating with open limestone plains, covered with saltbush and

grass.*

[* These plains, first crossed by Giles, have every appearance of being

splendid pasture-lands. Unfortunately no surface water can be obtained.

The formation is limestone, in which are found "blowholes"--that is to

say, circular holes two to four feet in diameter, which go down vertically

to a depth never yet ascertained. They derive their name from the curious

booming noise which they emit, probably caused by the wind. Judging from

the growth of saltbush and other herbage it would seem likely that the

rainfall on these elevated plains is considerable, and apparently runs to

waste down blow-holes and cracks in the limestone. No doubt when other

parts of the Colony become occupied and civilisation advances, settlers

will turn their attention to this part, and possibly, by means of bores,

find a plentiful supply of water, as on the Nullarbor Plains across the

border. It seems likely that a most undesirable class of colonists will

forestall the "back blockers" from the west, for to the northward of Eucla

rabbits have been seen slowly advancing to the westward. The Government

fortunately realises the importance of checking the incursion. To my mind

the safest plan would be to run a fence, at whatever cost, north from

Eucla, for some 150 miles, until the desert was reached, and so force the

rabbits into a part of the country where, supposing they could live

(which is doubtful), they could do no harm, and might come as a welcome

addition to the diet of the wandering blacks, or might serve to break the

monotony of "tinned dog" for the weary prospector.]

Without camels as transport this expedition could not have been carried

out, which will be readily understood when we find that a waterless stage

of three hundred miles was negotiated. It is of course likely that Giles

passed by waters unknowingly, for owing to the number of camels he had

(twenty-two) and the supply of water he was enabled to carry, he was able

to push on without turning to the right hand or to the left.

In the following year Giles again crossed the Colony from West to East,

some 350 miles North of his first route, and encountered considerably

worse country, spinifex desert covered with light gravel. Between Giles's

two tracks, Forrest, in 1874, made a remarkable journey from West to East,

connecting his traverse with that of Gosse, who from the East had

penetrated some 150 miles into the Western Colony, and finally reached the

Adelaide-Port Darwin telegraph line. This journey was accomplished with

horses, and Forrest, like Stuart in Central Australia, happened to strike

a belt of country intersected by low ranges and hills in which he found

water. On his left hand was the undulating hill-less desert crossed by

Giles, on his right a wilderness of rolling sandhills. Not only was

Forrest a surveyor but a bushman as well, and accompanied by good men and

black-boys, who let not the slightest indications of the existence of

water escape them. One has only to notice the numerous twists and turns in

his route to understand that no pains were spared to find water, and thus

from rock-hole to rock-hole he wound his way across.

It seems certain that Forrest must have had an exceptional season, judging

from the difficulties that have beset subsequent travellers, even though

they had camels, over the same route. Mills, Hubbe, Carr-Boyd, Macpherson,

and Frost have in late years traversed the same country, not following

exactly in Forrest's footsteps, but visiting several waters yielding a

plentiful supply when found by him, but which were dry when seen by them.

Nevertheless if ever an overland route for stock is found from Central

Australia to the Coolgardie fields, I feel confident it will closely

approximate to Forrest's route of 1874 for a considerable distance.

Between Giles's northern track and that of the next explorer, Warburton,

there is a gap of some four hundred miles. Colonel Warburton, with a party

of four white men, two Afghans, and one black-boy, left Central Australia,

in 1873 to cross to the western coast. This he succeeded in doing after

fearful hardships and sufferings, entailing the death of sixteen out of

seventeen camels, the temporary failure of his eyesight, and the permanent

loss of one eye. One of his party lost his reason, which he never properly

recovered, and sufferings untold were experienced by the whole expedition,

the members of which narrowly escaped with their lives. Indeed they would

not have done so but for the faithful courage and endurance of Samuel

Lewis, who alone pushed on to the coastal settlements for aid, and,

returning, was just in time to rescue the other survivors. So bad was the

account given by these travellers of the interior that it was only by the

gradual extension of settlement, rather than by the efforts of any one

individual, that any part of it became better known. But for the finding

of gold it is certain that the interior would have long remained an

unknown region of dangers, so boldly faced by the early explorers.

The existence of gold was known to the Dutch as far back as 1680 or

thereabouts, and what is now known as the Nor'-West (including Pilbarra

and the Ashburton) was called by them "Terra Aurifera." In spite of vague

rumours of the existence of gold, and the report of Austin in 1854, who

passed close to what is now the town of Cue and noticed auriferous

indications, it was not until 1868 that an authenticated find of gold was

made--at Mallina, in the Nor'-West. Since that date the precious metal has

been found now in one place, now in another, until to-day we see on the

map goldfields extending in a comparatively unbroken line from Esperance

Bay on the South, along the Western seaboard to Kimberley in the North.

Whilst prospectors were at work, explorers were not idle, and in 1892 a

large expedition, equipped by that public-spirited colonist, Sir Thomas

Elder--now alas! dead--was fitted out and put under the leadership of

David Lindsay. Sir Thomas was determined to finish what he had so well

begun, viz., the investigation of the interior, for by him not only had

Giles and Warburton been equipped, but several other travellers in South

and Central Australia. This expedition, however, though provided with a

large caravan of fifty-four camels, accomplished less than its

predecessors. Leaving Forrest's route at Mount Squires, Lindsay marched

his caravan across the Queen Victoria Desert to Queen Victoria Spring,

a distance of some 350 miles, without finding water except in small

quantities in rock-holes on the low sandstone cliffs he occasionally met

with. From Queen Victoria Spring, he made down to Esperance Bay, and

thence by the Hampton Plains, through settled country to the Murchison.

Here Lindsay left the expedition and returned to Adelaide; Wells, surveyor

to the party, meanwhile making a flying trip to the eastward as far as the

centre of the Colony and then back again. During this trip he accomplished

much useful work, discovering considerable extents of auriferous country

now dotted with mining camps and towns. On reaching the coast, he found

orders to return to Adelaide, as the expedition had come to an end. Why,

it was never generally known. Thus there still remained a vast unknown

expanse right in the heart of the interior covering 150,000 square miles,

bounded on the North by Warburton's Great Sandy Desert, on the South by

Giles's Desert of Gravel (Gibson's Desert), on the West by the strip

of well-watered country between the coast and the highland in which the

rivers rise, on the East by nothing but the imaginary boundary-line

between West and South Australia, and beyond by the Adelaide to Port

Darwin Telegraph Line.

To penetrate into this great unknown it would be necessary first to pass

over the inhospitable regions described by Wells, Forrest, and Giles, and

the unmapped expanses between their several routes--crossing their tracks

almost at right angles, and deriving no benefit from their experiences

except a comparison in positions on the chart, should the point of

intersection occur at any recognisable feature, such as a noticeable hill

or lake.

Should the unexplored part between Giles's and Warburton's routes be

successfully crossed, there still would remain an unexplored tract 150

miles broad by 450 long before the settlements in Kimberley could be

reached, 1,000 miles in a bee-line from Coolgardie. This was the

expedition I had mapped out for my undertaking, and now after four

years' hard struggle I had at length amassed sufficient means to carry it

through. I do not wish to pose as a hero who risked the perils and dangers

of the desert in the cause of science, any more than I would wish it to be

thought that I had no more noble idea than the finding of gold. Indeed,

one cannot tell one's own motives sometimes; in my case, however, I

believe an insatiable curiosity to "know what was there," joined to a

desire to be doing something useful to my fellow-men, was my chief

incentive. I had an idea that a mountain range similar to, but of course

of less extent, than the McDonnell Ranges in Central Australia might be

found--an idea based on the fact that the vast swamps or salt-lakes, Lake

Amadeus and Lake Macdonald, which apparently have no creeks to feed them

from the East, must necessarily be filled from somewhere. Since it was

not from the East, why not from the West?

Tietkens, Giles's first officer in nearly all his journeys, who led an

expedition from Alice Springs in Central Australia to determine the extent

of Lake Amadeus, cut off a considerable portion of that lake's supposed

area, and to the North-West of it discovered Lake Macdonald, which he

encircled. To the West of this lake he found samphire swamps and

clay-pans, which are so often seen at the end of creeks that seldom join

the lakes in a definite channel. He might, therefore, have crossed the

tail-end of a creek without being aware of it.

Should such a range exist it might be holding undiscovered rich minerals

or pasture-lands in its valleys. Anything seemed possible in 150,000

square miles. Then again it seemed to me possible that between Kimberley

in the North and Coolgardie in the South auriferous connection might

exist. A broken connection with wide intervals perhaps, but possibly belts

of "mixed" country, now desert, now lake, now gold-bearing. Such mixed

country one finds towards the eastern confines of the goldfields. No

better example of what I mean could be given than Lake Darlot, of which

one might make an almost complete circuit and be in a desert country all

the time. Should we find auriferous country in the "far back," it was not

my intention to stop on it (and, indeed, our limited supplies would have

made that difficult), but to push on to Hall's Creek, Kimberley,

investigating the remaining portion of unknown on the way; then to refit

and increase the means of transport, and so return to the auriferous

country in a condition to remain there and properly prospect. These were

the ideas that possessed me before our journey commenced.

I do not wish to institute comparisons, but it is often said that a

prospector, or pioneer, who explores with the hope of gain to himself,

cannot be deserving in an equal degree of the credit due to those who have

risked their lives in the cause of science. I may point out that these

latter have not only been at no expense themselves, but have been paid

salaries for their services, and have, in addition, been rewarded by

grants of money and land--and deservedly so. Yet a man willing to take the

same risks, and venture the fruits of perhaps years of hard work, in

equipping and bearing all the expenses of an expedition, is credited with

no nobler incentive than the "lust of gold"--because he hopes, with a

vague chance of his hope being realised, to be repaid by compelling Nature

to part with some of her hidden treasures.

The prospector in his humble way slowly but surely opens up the country,

making horse or camel-pads, here, there, and everywhere, from water to

water, tracks of the greatest service to the Government road-maker and

surveyor who follow after. He toils and labours, suffers, and does heroic

deeds, all unknown except to the few. He digs soaks and wells many feet in

depth, makes little dams in creeks, protects open water from contamination

by animals, and scores of other services, primarily for his own benefit,

it is true, but also for the use of those who come after. Very few

recognise the immense value of the work carried out by prospectors who are

not actuated only by the greed for gold, as I, who know them, can assert.

Some wish to satisfy a longing to determine the nature of new country,

to penetrate where others have never been; others work for love of

adventure and of the free bush life; while many are anxious to win what

distinction may fall to the lot of successful travellers, though reward

or distinction are seldom accorded to prospectors. But beyond all this,

there is the glorious feeling of independence which attracts a prospector.

Everything he has is his own, and he has everything that IS his own with

him; he is doing the honest work of a man who wins every penny he may

possess by the toil of his body and the sweat of his brow. He calls no man

master, professes no religion, though he believes in God, as he cannot

fail to do, who has taken the chances of death in the uphill battle of

life "outside the tracks," though he would perhaps be annoyed if you told

him so; and it is only by intimate acquaintance with him that you can know

that his God is the same as other men's, though called by another name.

For the rest, he lives an honourable life, does many acts of kindness to

those in need, never leaves his mate in the lurch, and goes "straight" to

the best of his ability. For him, indeed,

"Two things stand like stone:

Kindness in another's trouble,

Courage in his own."

As to his work, the results remain, even though he keeps no record. Should

he find good country or gold, the land is soon occupied--sooner than if

some officially recognised expedition had reported it. For in the one case

the man is known and trusted by his fellow-prospectors, while in the other

there is not only the bushman's dislike of anything official to be

overcome, but the curious conviction, which most of them possess, that any

one in the position of a geologist, or other scientific calling, must

necessarily be an ass! In the same way, if the country met with is

useless, the fact soon becomes known amongst the prospectors, who avoid it

accordingly--though a few from curiosity may give it a further trial.

Slowly but surely the unaided and individual efforts of the prospector,

bring nearer to civilisation the unknown parts of Australia. Many are the

unrecorded journeys of bushmen, which for pluck and endurance would rank

with any of those of recognised explorers.

The distances accomplished by their journeys are certainly of no great

length, as, indeed, they hardly could be, seeing their scanty means and

inadequate equipment; and yet in the aggregate they do as great an amount

of useful work as a man who by a single journey leaves his name on the map

of Australia. It has always seemed a shame to me, how little prospectors

are encouraged. No inducement is offered them to give information to the

Government; they may do so if they like, but they cannot hope to get

anything for it in return. My old mate, Luck, not only surveyed, roughly

but accurately, a track between Southern Cross and Menzies, a distance of

nearly 150 miles, but actually cut the scrub for a part of the way, to

allow his camels to pass; shortly after a Government road was to be cut

between the two towns, and Luck sent in his map, at the suggestion of the

then head official of the Water Supply, with an application for monetary

reward for his work. His request was refused, his map never returned, and

strangely enough the new road followed his traverse from water to water

with startling exactitude. Who was to blame I cannot say; but someone

must be in fault when a man, both able and willing to do such useful work

is not only neglected, but to all intents and purposes robbed. This is not

the only instance of the apathy of the Government in such matters, but is

a sufficient example of the lack of encouragement with which prospectors

meet.