Laverton—Excitement among the Miners—Bachelors and Grass
Widowers—More Souvenirs—Lucky Discoveries—Erlistoun—Lost—Eagle
Nugget—Euro Mine—Hospitality in the Bush.
The coach to British Flag, or Laverton, turned out to be a large kind of
conveyance with three open seats and no cover; consequently, as the day
had been hot, I was glad when we drove into the township at 8 o’clock
in the evening, for I was fairly tired out. Every one in the place was
looking out for the mail, which only goes up three times a week. Several
gentlemen whom I had known in other parts of the colony were here, and
having heard that I was to arrive by this coach, were waiting to receive
me, and three pairs of stalwart arms were held out to help me down. I was
escorted into the hotel, and from the time I arrived until I left was the
recipient of so much attention from the numerous and kindly fellows as to
be almost bewildered.
The very comfortable hotel was kept by three bachelors, one looking after
the hotel business and the other two after the store which they also
own. Wages up here are very high: cooks get £3 10s. per week, and two
young women, one of whom acts as housekeeper, while the other attends in
the bar, were receiving £5 per week! Another young woman was making a
small fortune by washing and mending the clothes of the gay bachelors,
who, having plenty of money, do not mind what they pay for work done
for them. The whole of the country seemed to be a vast auriferous area,
and thousands of miles of rich country higher up yet are absolutely
unprospected.
Horses being very scarce, I was indebted to Mr. Campbell Shaw for the
use of his horse and buggy during my stay. Mr. Shaw drove me out to the
Augusta Mine, of which he is manager. This little mine is very rich,
and had just been bought from the three original prospectors for £2500
in cash and 1300 shares. There was no battery there as yet, and so the
stone raised was taken to the Hawkes Nest Battery, 9 miles away, every
morning by a 60-camel train, the camels returning at night for their next
morning’s load. The country around is really pretty, and from the hill on
which the Augusta Mine stands you can see the houses at Mount Morgans,
20 miles off, through the clear air. Some very fine specimens have been
sent from this admirable little mine to the Glasgow Exhibition, and I was
fortunate to get some myself. The camps here were all very neat and tidy,
and yet there was not a woman on the mine, all the men being bachelors
or grass widowers. I intended to go down the shaft, but there had been
an accident the day before, and two young men had been injured—happily,
however, not very seriously—so I thought discretion the better part of
valour and did not go down. As no women were at the mine I volunteered to
do a little nursing by putting cold bandages on the injured men’s arms,
and making them nice cool lemon drinks, for which the poor fellows were
very grateful.
Going back to Laverton, just as the sun was setting, I thought the
little township looked very flourishing. It is wonderful how quickly
these places spring up! A few months ago only a few tents marked the
spot which then was called British Flag. We stopped at Dr. Laver’s old
camp and surveyed the little township with wondering eyes, and two lucky
prospectors coming up gave me a pretty little nugget they had found that
day. These men had previously struck a patch in an abandoned shaft near
where they were camped a few miles out. They thought they would go down
and look all over it, and did so with such perseverance that they found
a leader. Following it up, they discovered it to be 18 inches wide, and
eventually came across a rich pocket from which they afterwards took
£4000 worth of gold.
Driving into the township we went down to the post-office, not a Bush
one, but really a nice building. As it was the mail night all the folk
were there waiting for their letters. Most of the shops and houses are
built of galvanised iron, and are very hot during the day; but this
drawback has to be endured, for the place is in the Mulga country, where
the trees are very small and only fit for firewood, and the distances are
too great to bring timber from elsewhere. The Western Australian Bank had
a very nice place; it was one of the best buildings there.
I was now over 600 miles from Perth, the capital, and had reached the
very last township in the Mount Margaret district.
Erlistoun is another rising mining place, where there have recently
been some rich finds. It is 60 miles from Laverton. Several old
prospectors have been there for years, and have quite lost the customs of
civilisation, so much so, that one old man called Jack, on hearing that
one of the miners had brought his wife to the Erlistoun, and that she,
having a goat, had brought it up with her (at a terrible inconvenience,
as you may imagine), in order to have fresh milk in her tea, remarked:
“I shall pack my swag and go farther back, now that women and goats are
arriving here; this is no place for me.”
I saw some marvellous specimens, more gold than quartz, from the
Erlistoun, and should not be surprised to hear any day of a tremendous
rush there. Consignments of plump wildfowl from beyond Mount Black and
the Erlistoun are frequently sent to Perth, and the country about is said
to be very fine.
The Craig-i-more was the scene of my next mining visit. This mine
belongs to Sir Donald Currie, and, like most in this district, is worked
at the expense of the owners without the aid of the outside public
as shareholders. The machinery is very fine. I found the people most
hospitable; they made tea for me, and one of the managers presented me
with several valuable native weapons and curiosities, which I was proud
to add to the already fine collection in my pretty home at Claremont.
Next day I set out to drive myself to the Euro Mine, about 12 miles
from Laverton, and refused all offers of escort, wishing to explore
the country myself. All went well for about seven miles, then I came
to two roads, did not know which to take, and of course took the wrong
one. After going on for about a mile the track grew very indistinct; I
found I was on the wrong one, and presently lost it altogether. However,
knowing by the sun that I was now going quite in the opposite direction,
I turned round, found the track, and determined to trust to luck and keep
to the left. When I had gone on for about a mile the track began to get
very indistinct, again being woven into others in a most confusing way.
The wind having risen made it also very dusty and disagreeable. I now
felt completely lost, but drove on hoping to strike a road once more.
Presently, a few yards to my right, there appeared a huge “willy willy.”
It interested and amused me at first, but presently it whirled nearer,
too near for my fancy and also to suit my horse, who needed no urging on.
Surely I heard a shriek. No! it was only the horrid “willy willy”; then
began a race, and “willy willy” was edging nearer. I turned my horse’s
head and let him gallop in the opposite direction; “willy willy” had
turned too _and was following us_. Half mad with fright I gave my horse
his head, who, by-the-by, took a small rut as if he were out with hounds,
the buggy and poor I taking it also. But where was “willy willy?” Right
away back, slowly dying (perhaps of laughter at giving us such a fright).
I slackened speed, and, looking around, was surprised to find that we
were nearly back at the Junction. We had struck the road again somehow,
the horse, perhaps, knowing his way better than I did. After all, “willy
willy” had done us a good turn. “It’s an ill wind that blows nobody
good,” I said to myself as I straightened my hat and drove sedately down
the road.
[Illustration: MINERS’ CAMP, LAVERTON]
Seeing smoke rising amongst the trees, I drove over to the place, hoping
to find a camp where I might get water for my horse. I found the camp
and one solitary man working by it, who had been in the neighbourhood
prospecting for months. He asked me to give my horse a rest, offering to
attend to him and also to make some tea for me, which hospitable offer I
gratefully accepted. While the “billy” boiled he told me much about the
hardships he had endured for many months. “But now,” said he, “luck has
turned; look here, ma’am.” At the same time he unearthed from the ground
an old jam tin, which proved to be full of little lumps of gold. For
months, he told me, he had been fossicking (that is, searching the top
ground), and looking for shows of gold, and one day had struck a patch.
Picking out one little piece he said, “That’s the first bit I found, and
you are the first white woman I have seen for months, so I’ll give it to
you for luck.” The piece was almost exactly in the form of an eagle, and
is now one of my gold treasures. He said that he had often been without
food, or the money to obtain it, but had subsisted on the kindness of
other prospectors, who had helped him from their often scanty store, and
of the storekeepers who had given him tick (credit). (I have since heard
that the man afterwards struck an immense find, and is now thoroughly
successful.) Bidding my hospitable entertainer “good-bye,” I again
started on my journey and soon found myself at the Euro, not having met
even a solitary kangaroo on the road.
In the early days this mine was known as Quartz Hill, and the company
owning it was unlucky. Thousands of pounds were spent, but nothing much
was got, and the mine was finally abandoned; but some prospectors, who
often have a liking for fossicking on an abandoned spot, thought that
it had not had a fair trial, and two men, named Champion and Mason,
determined to give it another. Knowledge or chance led them to continue
a costéen, and they were not long coming on stringers (thin courses) of
rich quartz. Mr. G. W. Hall eventually came upon the scene in company
with Mr. A. W. Castle, and these well-known gentlemen were not long
in making a proposition to the prospectors, from whom they shortly
afterwards bought the mine for a considerable sum and renamed it the Euro.
There is every appearance of a brilliant future for the Euro. There is
a large body of ore in sight. The reef is 10 feet wide, and some of it
gives assay equal to the rich Kalgoorlie claims. Many nice houses are
being built for offices, manager’s house, and stores. Farther on is the
Sons of England, another rich property acquired by Mr. Hall.
At the Euro I was most hospitably entertained by the manager’s wife.
There were two other visitors at the mine that day, and we made quite a
merry party in the cool Bush-house, where we were invited to a very nice
lunch.
Mount Weld was the object of my next day’s journeying. I did not lose
myself this time, but on the way came across some prospector’s camping,
and stopped to have a talk with them. They showed me a bottle full of
gold that they had recently got. One of them, the old man of the camp,
went very mysteriously into the camp and brought out something tied up
in a piece of an old bag. It turned out to be a nugget which must have
weighed 60 ounces. A small piece of gold was given me as a souvenir, and
I was bound to secrecy for a month about the big nugget; but, as the
month will be long past when this is published, I may now safely speak.
At Mount Weld the miners seemed amazed to see a lady drive up alone,
and all work was suspended for the time by the hands on top. At the same
time an “Hallo” was given to those working below, with the message, “Come
up; a lady visitor.” The reply came, “You’re codding” (joking); but
when I went to the top of the shaft and called down, “It’s quite true,”
they came up the rope (dispensing with the bucket) with great alacrity.
Several claims here were yielding splendid returns, notably the new find,
7 miles from the Mount, where Bates and Whelan have recently struck a
rich patch.
Another new place is called Bett’s Find, and 150 men were working there;
but, the heat having been terrible and water rather scarce, a good many
of them had left the place. The North Country, as this part is called,
has the advantage of rock not nearly so hard as on the fields lower down,
consequently the ores can be more easily treated.
The time came when I had to bid farewell to Laverton and to its many
interesting mines. As time goes on the now modest little township will,
no doubt, develop into a fine city, for it is the centre of a very rich
district, although almost up in the Never Never country (where there is
no white population). Many mines of which I cannot speak are full of
golden promise, and many more will yet be discovered. The country around
is mountainous, and it is near mountains and hills that all the rich
reefs are found.
It was on a lovely morning that I started for my return journey to Mount
Malcolm. As I had 70 miles to go, and as I was on the front seat of the
coach, I was thankful that the weather was cool. At first some difficulty
was experienced in getting the off-side leader to go. He was a young
horse, just broken in, and had never been in harness before; the way he
stood on his hind legs and curvetted around put terror into my heart, for
I am not strikingly brave where horses are concerned; with a great effort
I controlled myself and sat still, for I could see that the coach-driver
had full command, and, after about ten minutes of fear to me and fun
to the crowd who gathered round, we got away, the unmanageable animal
behaving admirably for the rest of the journey.
There was only one other passenger (a gentleman) besides myself, and he
kindly got down and gathered Australian quondongs,[6] and some very rare
flowers new to me. Farther on the spinifex was very plentiful. I begged
some of that, not knowing its terrible prickly nature. It is a deceitful
plant that grows in pretty green grasslike clumps, with a flower—out at
this time—that looks almost like golden wheat, but is, oh, how wiry and
prickly!
About 12 miles from Laverton was Hawke’s Nest, where the coach stopped
for a while at the store. This is a flourishing alluvial place, where
many nuggets are often found by dry-blowers and prospectors. A man came
into the store while we were waiting there with a nice piece, which the
storekeeper weighed; it was 14 ounces, and he had another of 7 ounces. A
little while ago a man found a piece weighing 27 ounces, and these good
finds are not of unfrequent occurrence.
On arrival at Mount Morgans we changed coaches and found the new one
crowded.
By the time I got to Murrin Murrin I was pretty thoroughly tired, and
decided to stay at the nice hotel and once more see silver and pretty
glass-ware on a table, for Mount Morgans and Laverton, although rich with
gold, are not exactly rich in comfort.
I wanted to get to Malcolm the next day; there was no coach going, but
I was determined, and, my little landlady providing me with a horse and
spring-cart (the only conveyance obtainable), I made a start the next
morning like a veritable Bushwoman. I had no adventure beyond seeing a
long camel-train with three Afghan drivers, before getting near whom I
made a détour into the Bush, for horses are invariably afraid of camels.
I then resumed the road and got safely into Malcolm.
A railway is soon to be begun to the Mount Margaret goldfields, and,
considering that this field is producing at the rate of 13,000 ounces
of gold per month, almost double the output of any other colonial field
except Kalgoorlie, it is to be hoped that the line will be finished with
as little delay as possible.
[Illustration: Sons of Gwalia Mine, Mount Leonora]