_THE KAURI GUMDIGGER._
I am going to commence this chapter by confessing that I find myself
in a difficulty. All my endeavours to secure an appointment had proved
abortive. I am anxious to stick to fact, and at the same time to
interest my reader, but how can it be done, if I simply relate the
details of my humdrum life as a country settler!
Three or four chapters back, I rushed off from my narrative into the
New Zealand forests, and then apologised, but I can't keep perpetually
apologising, and to prevent the reader from closing my book in disgust,
I must ask him to hold me excused if I frequently bolt off the even
course of my clodhoppery existence into subjects which are more
interesting.
I have already briefly described one of North Auckland's greatest
industries--the Kauri timber trade--an industry, alas! of destruction,
and one whose days are numbered. There is another great industry
which also owes its existence to the Kauri, both of the present and of
bygones times. I mean the Kauri gum trade. This being the land of the
glorious Kauri pine for all ages, of course forms the "Tom Tiddler's"
ground of the happy-go-lucky gumdiggers, of whom there are at the
present time over ten thousand in the North Auckland district. About
£350,000 worth of Kauri gum was exported last year from the province
of Auckland, principally to London and America. It is used largely in
the manufacture of varnish and lacquers, and as there are no varnish
manufactories of any importance in New Zealand, all the gum is sent
away.
The three principal exports of the province of Auckland are Kauri
gum, gold, and timber, and the export value of the former is greater
than the combined values of the gold and timber. The gumdigger
therefore plays a most important part in the province of Auckland, as
without his assistance its export trade would look very shady, yet
he is universally looked down upon by the sober-sided settler, who
hardly ever has a good word for him. "He's only a gumdigger," is an
expression I have commonly heard used, to imply that the individual
indicated was a person of no importance.
The title "Gumdigger" itself may have something to do with the matter.
It is not a nice word, and looks too much like "Gravedigger" at first
sight. Possibly, too, the sedate settler may not think digging gum
so intellectual and high-toned an employment as digging potatoes,
fattening pigs, and the other duties which fall to his lot; again,
the gumdigger proper is not a landowner; and yet again, he is often
addicted to what he terms "going on the spree," and when he has changed
his gum into money, to changing the money into strong waters. All these
causes, I think, conspire together to lower him in the eyes of the
extremely respectable, but ofttimes narrow-minded settler.
I have not the slightest wish to endeavour to defend the gumdigger
for the intemperance and careless waste of money that too generally
characterises him, but I will say, and say it without fear of
contradiction, that he is exposed to far greater temptations than ever
beset the settler. He lives an entirely isolated and a fearfully hard
life out on the gum-field, and when he comes into a township, which he
probably does every two or three months, and converts his gum into
money, the temptation "to go on the spree" is great. He is unmarried,
and has no particular use for the surplus money after his "tucker" bill
is paid, and he spends it recklessly. There are savings-banks, it is
true, but no one calls his attention to the fact that by depositing his
surplus cash in them it will be making money for him while he is out on
the gum-field, and the probability is that he does not know of their
existence. The settler has a hundred improvements to make on his land,
and has plenty of ways of employing his spare cash. Besides, he is
generally surrounded by his family, and has not to endure the horrible
isolation in which most of the gumdiggers' time is spent.
Not all gumdiggers, however, waste their substance. Many when they
indulge in a holiday, enjoy themselves in a moderate and becoming
manner. Not long since I was rowing by the Matakohe Wharf, and saw a
stout, thick-set man, whom I knew to be a gumdigger, fishing off its
seaward end. His legs were dangling over the edge, his back was resting
against one of the mooring posts, in his mouth was a short clay, and by
his side stood a bottle of beer and a tumbler. His face wore a look of
placid contentment, and he was evidently enjoying himself thoroughly.
[Illustration: A Gumdigger's Holiday.]
Gumdigging is exceptionally hard work, and only a man accustomed to
manual labour can hope to be successful at it. Some intelligence too
and power of observation is required, in order that the digger may not
waste time working in unlikely places. When an old Kauri tree dies and
falls, its huge roots throw up a mound of earth, and the shape of these
mounds indicate to an observing digger the direction in which the trees
have fallen, although all signs of the trees themselves have entirely
decayed away and disappeared, perhaps thousands of years ago. As the
gum generally exudes freely from the Kauri, and collects in the forks
where the trunk commences to throw out branches, by stepping sixty or
seventy feet from the mound in the right direction, and digging there,
gum will probably be found. The mounds themselves also offer good
chances, and these are generally first attacked.
A gumdigger's outfit is not an expensive one. It consists of a spade, a
gum spear, and a piece of sacking made into a bag and strapped on his
back with pieces of flax.
The gum spear is a four-sided rod of steel, about four feet long,
and pointed at one end. It looks very like a fencing foil, with a
handle like a spade stuck in the end of it, instead of a hilt. If the
field is a new one, or has been but little worked, this instrument
is brought into use, and with it the gumdigger probes the ground in
different directions, until he strikes a piece of gum, which, if at
all experienced, he can tell at once from a stone, root, or other
substance. He then digs it up, puts it in the bag, and recommences
spearing. An old observing hand generally does a good deal less
spearing than a new chum, but a good deal more putting in the bag. When
a field has been dug over two or three times, as most of them have been
now, the big lumps have nearly all been removed, and the method then
adopted is to dig in the most likely places, on the chance of turning
up gum with the earth. Here the observing digger again gets the pull,
for instead of digging a patch right out as many do, he digs a spitful
here and a spitful there, and generally manages to turn up gum.
My theory is, that by minutely examining the places where gum is turned
up, and comparing it with the surrounding ground, the wide-awake
ones have discovered something or other--I don't in the least know
what--which indicates to them the most likely places to dig. Anyway, it
is a fact that some gumdiggers earn their two and three pounds a week,
while others working equally hard, if not harder, in the field, can
scarcely pay their "tucker" bill.
[Illustration: Group of Tree-Gummers under Kauri.]
[Illustration: Gum Scraping.]
After the gum has been dug up, it has to be scraped, and this is
generally done by the gumdigger before he offers it for sale. If an
industrious man, his evenings are usually spent at this tedious work;
and the more successful his day's digging, the more scraping lies
before him in the evening, and it is considered a good ten hours' work
to scrape a hundredweight of gum. When it is thoroughly scraped, it is
easy to see the quality, and it is then sorted into boxes. The rarest
kind is quite transparent and resembles lumps of glass; the next in
order, is cloudy in places, yellowish looking, and very like amber,
though much more brittle; some again is all cloudy, and the commonest
sort of all is almost opaque. The clearer it is the higher its value,
and the price for the first class, which is used in the manufacture of
copal varnishes, ranges from about £70 to £80 a ton, according as the
market is over or under stocked.
[Illustration: Gum Scraper's Knife, constructed so that blade can be
replaced when worn out.]
Very pretty ornaments can be cut with a pen-knife out of Kauri gum,
the surface of which may be afterwards easily polished by being
rubbed with a piece of flannel soaked in kerosine oil. In most of the
gumdiggers' huts (or whares, as they are called), and in settlers'
houses in gumdigging districts, are to be found specimens of amateur
gum-carving, among which, hearts are by far the most popular subject.
I have seen flat hearts with sharp edges, rounded hearts, lob-sided
hearts, elongated hearts, and many other varieties of Kauri gum hearts,
which, though doubtless greatly admired by the personal friends of
the carvers, could not be said to possess any commercial value. The
material is too fragile for elaborate and artistic designs to be
attempted, and no trade of any extent in Kauri gum carvings is pushed
in the colony.
All the gum dug out of the gum-fields of course belonged to Kauri trees
of bygone ages, and is sometimes called fossil gum. From the living
Kauri, however, gum is constantly exuding, and forming in large lumps
in the forks of the branches. To secure this it is necessary to climb
the tree; but the barrel being of such huge dimensions, and rising
like a pillar for sixty or seventy feet, it cannot be climbed in the
ordinary manner. The plan generally adopted, therefore, is to tie a
small weight to a long piece of strong twine or fishing-line, and throw
the weight over the branches; the end of the thread held below is then
slacked out until the weight is lowered within reach, when a rope is
tied to the line, and hauled up over the branch and down again the
other side. Climbing this rope, the gum-seeker gains a footing on the
branch, and with a tomahawk, hacks out the gum and lets it fall to the
ground. I have heard of another method of climbing by means of steps
cut with a tomahawk in the barrel of a Kauri, but have never seen it
done, and should think it an exceedingly dangerous operation. Climbing
for gum in the ordinary way with a rope is dangerous work enough, and
very often men meet their death when engaged in the occupation. Only a
few weeks back the dead body of a native was found in the bush about
four miles from here, lying at the foot of a Kauri, the rope dangling
from a branch overhead, clearly indicating the manner of his death.
Tree gum is not so valuable as the ordinary gum found in the ground,
but it can be obtained in much larger lumps, and a good tree climber
can make on the average between three and four pounds a week.
[Illustration: Climbing Kauri for Gum.]
The Kauri gum industry cannot be considered as an unmixed blessing to
the province of Auckland, inasmuch as it materially helps to keep up
the price of labour. If a man cannot get the wages he wants, away he
goes to the gum-fields, and although he probably only makes enough to
just keep himself alive, still he is his own master, and is always
looking forward to doing better. The life he leads when gumdigging is a
fearfully lonely one, and he would really be far happier and far better
off, if he were working regularly for moderate wages at some factory,
with mates around him, and a comfortable cottage to spend his evenings
in, when his day's work is over.
The North New Zealand working-man cannot see this at present, however,
and until he is forced to see it, the natural industries of the
province of Auckland can never be developed.
Take, for instance, the varnish-making industry. Although New Zealand
is the only country in the whole world which produces Kauri gum--one of
the most important ingredients in varnish--yet it is all sent away in
its crude state, for other countries to derive the benefits and profits
consequent on its manufacture into varnish.
Before closing the chapter, I must say a word concerning the honesty
of gumdiggers. Within a radius of twenty miles from here, there are
several hundred men engaged in the occupation, and within that same
radius we only possess two rural policemen. In spite of this feeble
protection, however, I have never during my residence in the district,
heard of a robbery being committed by a gumdigger, although many
scarcely earn enough to keep themselves alive.