Leonora—The Gwalia Mines—In a Gingerbeer Cart—More Nuggets—Gold
Blocks—Pastoral Land—Swampers—Scarcity of the Fair Sex—Saturday
Life—Alas, poor Prospectors!
From Mount Malcolm to Leonora I drove 12 miles through very pleasant
country spread with wild flowers of all colours. About 2½ miles before
reaching Leonora lie, a little off the main road, the great mines called
the Gwalia Group, which seem likely to develop shortly into a second
Kalgoorlie. Leonora is a new place, and its great importance has not yet
been fully realised, but some managers told me that there are belts of
richness there similar to those in Kalgoorlie and Boulder City, so that,
when the railway is finished, no doubt thousands will flock to Leonora,
which by coach is now at a distance of 80 miles from Menzies. The Gwalia
Group occupies about a mile of ground, and is a leasehold of some 477
acres. Over that expanse all the miners’ huts, camps, and tents are
scattered. I stopped at several and found a great many women and families
there, and some of their places were very comfortable inside, although
the outside was not much to look at. The men who work in this mine
are chiefly from Victoria, and they are bringing over their wives and
families every week. As the mine is evidently likely to be permanent,
and the men see a prospect of years of work before them, the people
there are very happy and have quite a little township of their own. The
principal mine of the group, the Sons of Gwalia, is on a hill, from which
place you look down over a mile of Bush dotted about with various camps.
The smoke rising from the chimneys, the poppet-heads of the other mines
lying beyond, with a blue haze of hills behind them, combine to make up a
good picture of life on the goldfields.
There are 500 men working on this mine who turn out some thousands of
ounces of gold per month, independent of the tailings, which are almost
sure to give 1½ ounces to the ton. No doubt in a short time there will be
a tremendous boom here.
The small town of Leonora very much resembles Mount Malcolm, except that
the main street is longer, and that there are a few more buildings. It
boasts of three hotels, one made of wood and two of mud bricks, but
withal not ungainly looking, and tolerably comfortable. Expenses are
heavy but wages are good, and there are so many lucky prospectors that
there is always plenty of money there. On Saturday nights a great deal
of business is done, especially on the pay Saturday, which at the Gwalia
mines arrives once a month; then most of the men come in and have some
amusement in the way of visiting the hotels and playing billiards; there
is nothing else for them to do. There is no good hall for amusements yet,
and if there were the men would have to provide their own play, for no
company of any calibre has yet ventured so far into the “back-blocks.”
A handsome semi-grand piano had just arrived at Thompson’s Hotel from
Perth, and the son of the landlady, who was an excellent musician, played
a selection from several new operas for my pleasure, as well as that of
the crowd who thronged the place. There is not much music to be had in
Leonora, but the inhabitants are quite able to appreciate it when it
comes. There is one luxury here, however, which is generally denied to
the people on the fields lower down towards Kalgoorlie—the luxury of
bathing at the public shower-baths. The men can have three baths daily
by paying the weekly fee of 2_s._ 6_d._ There are three splendid wells
in the town, with windmills, giving good supplies of fresh water. Horses
are very scarce; I had great difficulty in getting a horse and trap in
order to drive out and see the different mines; in fact, I had one day to
enlist the assistance of the local baker to take me out to one mine that
I wished very much to see, while another day the driver of the gingerbeer
carriage gallantly gave me a lift.
Another day I had quite an adventure. I started in a cart, but the animal
called a horse, after jog-trotting for a mile or so, refused to go any
farther. The driver explained: “You see, ma’am, he’s an old ’un, and
knows at this time he ought to be going towards home, so he won’t go any
farther away from it.” All coaxings and persuasions were vain, so I had
to get out and walk. The day was intensely hot, and after walking some
distance I had to sit down on a log, feeling that I could go no farther.
At last in the distance a conveyance appeared coming from the place to
which I wanted to go, and proved to be that of the butcher. I stopped
the cart, and, with the sweetest smile I could call up, asked the young
man to take me to the mine. “But I am just going away from there.” “Oh,
never mind, turn back; I will pay you any money to take me there.” After
much hesitation he consented to do so, but would not accept payment. I am
glad to say that from the mine the manager sent me back in one of their
own buggies. The only people who kept horses for hire had let theirs
out to graze during the night and could not find them in the morning.
At last, in desperation I telegraphed to Mount Malcolm for a buggy and
horse, which were brought down to me, and I finished my inspection in
comfort. However, on my second visit to Leonora I found that the place
had advanced with great strides, and that now I had no difficulty in
obtaining a nice horse and buggy in the township to take me to the
different places I wished to visit.
Going into one of the banks (there are two there), I collided at the door
with a rough-looking man carrying a canvas bag. This he emptied out upon
the counter. It proved to contain some splendid nuggets of gold and a
quantity of gold-dust. Seeing my eyes full of admiration, the man, rough
as he was, picked out a pretty little piece, and holding it towards me,
said, “Will you accept this, ma’am, from a rough miner who hasn’t spoken
to a lady for two years, and may I shake hands with you?” You may be sure
I did not refuse either of these offers, made in a most kindly spirit.
We were now nearly 600 miles from Perth in a different direction to
Laverton.
The Great Boston Reward Claim is only two miles from Leonora. Here
O’Brien and party made a vast profit out of the gold and nuggets they
obtained from their rich claim. The same party have another claim at a
place called Savannah, where they are also getting great results.
Farther along the same road, which is the main road to Diorite and
Lawlers, is the Trump Mine, which has a small battery of its own, for
which the proprietors paid out of their first crushing of 10 ounces to
the ton. There are dozens of working-parties of men about this particular
part, which is exceptionally rich. Close to the Trump are the Leonora
Gold Blocks, which for richness have not been surpassed in the district.
This mine also has its own battery, bought and paid for out of its first
profits, so now the lucky owners have nothing to do but raise the stone
and extract the gold on the premises, independent of everybody. The
ample water supply makes work here comparatively easy, and I came to the
conclusion that this was an excellent place to look for gold. When one
looks back and thinks of the difficulties miners have had to contend with
at Hannan’s, I should say that a man would rather work in the Leonora
district, even for lower pay, than down below, where there is no fresh
water and few vegetables; and the fact is that wages are higher here.
There can be no doubt that a very great future lies before the Leonora,
or, I should say, Mount Malcolm goldfields, and probably in two years
from this time, instead of 1000 there will be 10,000 people on the field.
There are now scores of mines there, about which nobody hears anything.
Steady work is in progress everywhere in the district; there are no
unemployed men, the country, all the way from Menzies, is being rapidly
opened up, and so many improvements have been decided on by the various
mining companies, that thousands more men will shortly be required to do
the work. There is, therefore, nothing to prevent this rich field, which
has the advantage of being extensive, consistent, and well watered, from
developing shortly into a great community. Mr. Morgans, who should be
a good authority on mines, says that he sees no reason why the Gwalia
Mine should not shortly turn out 10,000 ounces of gold per month, and
that there are fully a dozen mines in the neighbourhood of Leonora with
striking lode formations which in the future will be as rich as any in
the district.
On the road to the Diorite King, which is about 40 miles from Leonora,
there was nothing much to see except a good many swampers. A “swamper”
is a man tramping without his swag, which he entrusts to a teamster to
bring on his waggon. Arrived at the camping-place, which is recognisable
by the old fires, the swamper awaits the teamster’s coming, recovers
his swag and spends the night at the camp. While on foot the swamper
will generally leave the track, and prospect, and shows wonderful skill
in recovering the track again, after these deviations. The country,
however, was certainly prettier than that of the Coolgardie district.
I was somewhat surprised when the coach pulled up at a small-looking
hotel, called the Kurrajong, with a few houses about it, to find that I
was at Diorite King township. It is certainly the smallest place I ever
stayed at. However, I was not sorry to get to my journey’s end, for the
heat and red dust had made me long for a refreshing cup of tea, which I
got at the hotel. I was fortunate in getting a nice comfortable room,
which, however, I was told was reserved for the manager of a mine who
was expected soon, but I was allowed to have it until he came, and I am
thankful to say he did not arrive while I was there, so that I remained
for a few days in undisputed possession.
At Diorite the township consists of one hotel, one store, one baker
and butcher’s shop combined, one blacksmith’s forge, a few mud houses,
and two galvanised-iron ones, the house of Mr. Williams, the manager
of the Diorite Mine, and a post-office. My readers may perhaps wonder
why I stayed so long. Certainly of all the uninviting desert-looking
places I ever saw, Diorite is the worst, but mines of wealth lie close
to it. There are only four women in Diorite, the landlady, the barmaid
of the hotel, a shopkeeper, and the wife of one of the men on the mine.
Women, being so few, are looked upon in these parts as goddesses, and
are treated with reverence, and I was made quite an object of adoration.
Of course there was no chance of getting a horse and vehicle here (how
I regretted leaving my bicycle at Menzies because I would not pay full
coach fare for it!) so one mine was explored by the medium of the
grocer’s cart. However, the day after, Mr. Williams kindly lent me his
horse and buggy, and safe transit to the other mines was then assured.
[Illustration: Camels at Diorite King]
The Diorite King Mine is about two miles from the township, and lies
between two hills. A great deal of gold has been got there. I found
myself most hospitably entertained, as the men were all at their “crib”
when I arrived, and being invited into their dining-room, a bough-shed
with two benches and long table, I took the mug of “billy” tea offered
me, but did not feel disposed to partake of the corned beef, cabbage,
and potatoes, although everything looked very nice and well cooked, and
also well served up by the cook of the day. This mine, and another called
the Middlesex, have both turned out good results, and while I was there
I saw some of what is called “surface stone,” freely splashed with gold
all over. On the way back to Diorite a long string of camels, over eighty
passed on their way to Lawlers with stores. What would the people in
these remote places do if it were not for these “ships of the desert”?
On one of them, in a kind of wicker basket, was a poor little lamb,
looking wonderingly around with its head out of the cage. I thought,
perhaps, it might have been a pet of one of the Afghans. “No fear,
ma’am, it’s to be killed at sundown; they won’t eat any meat killed by
Europeans, drat them,” said the grocer, for like all Westralians he had a
hatred of the wily Afghan.
The Calcutta Mine is not far from Diorite, and has a splendid reef. It
adjoins the Little Wonder, owned by Doyle and party, who a few years
ago had a find of gold so rich and phenomenal that thousands of pounds
worth of gold were taken in no time, and the men are working in daily
expectation of cutting a rich leader again.
Mount Stirling is another mine held by a Perth syndicate. Very rich ore
was lately struck there, and the syndicate have now erected their own
crushing battery. Plenty of fuel and water is available in the vicinity.
Hundreds of tons of the valuable ore lie on top waiting to be crushed,
and thousands more are plainly to be seen below waiting to be dug out.
This is the richest stone that has ever been found near here, and is
causing much excitement on the lease adjoining Mount Stirling. A lode was
being worked by some miners at a depth of 90 feet, a pocket of some of
the stuff assaying the immense value of 100 ounces to the ton. A great
many more men have claims about the vicinity of Mount Stirling Mines, but
it is almost impossible to know what is being got, as they keep silence
over their findings. The manager of the store says that a large quantity
of alluvial gold is sent away from the district of which the warden knows
nothing. His firm, being buyers of gold, often purchase from the men as
much as 100 ounces a month, £390 worth, sometimes more.
[Illustration: AUCTION SALE GOLDFIELDS (TIN HOTEL)]
Last, but far from least, I went to the King of the Hills Mine. The
farther I got away from Diorite the nicer the country looked. When I
came to the King of the Hills the surroundings were really pretty.
The wonderful gold got there has been obtained by sinking to no great
depth. The main shaft was only 25 feet deep at the time when I saw it.
Many rich quartz veins have been found in the workings, the finds being
occasionally most sensational. A small parcel of 18 tons of stone was
treated for a yield of 280 ounces of gold; 14 tons yielded 276 ounces,
and since then a further sensation has been caused by 1 ton of quartz
which yielded 116 ounces of gold. On one of the shafts large sacks of ore
were stacked which fairly glistened with gold, and were expected to give
as high a result as that just quoted. The mine was owned at this time by
Read and party, but has since been sold to Mr. Raymond, of the Harquehala
Company, for £6000 cash. After pegging out their claim, Reid and party
obtained over 1600 ounces of gold, worth about the nice little sum of
£6200. That, with the sale of the mine, makes a fortune of £12,000 for
four partners.
Saturday afternoon brought all, or nearly all, the miners from the
surrounding country into Diorite, where, as you can imagine, the
hotelkeeper was kept busy. The hotel proprietor, no doubt, has made a
fortune out of these Saturdays, the men having no other means of spending
their money; there is no bank where they can change their gold into
coin, but the storekeeper does that necessary kindness for them, or the
landlady notes a score on her little slate. All the time that I was
there one lucky claim-holder was falling about the place intoxicated.
Some of the scenes witnessed are by no means pleasant, but I suppose the
four women of the place had got quite used to them, for they did not
seem to take any notice of anything that went on. Many of the men on
the Saturday night become incapable of going back to their camps, and
there being no sleeping accommodation at Diorite beyond the one hotel,
they take shelter in any empty hut or under any cover they can find. The
men are all very kind to one another, only a few fights occur, and the
fighters soon shake hands and make friends again. There is no police
protection, and not even a tree lock-up, so every one does pretty well as
he likes at Diorite King; but when one thinks of the life these men lead,
shut off in a desert country from almost every trace of civilisation,
one feels that their faults should be looked on with a lenient eye. One
man seemed terribly drink-sodden, and I was told he had taken thousands
of pounds worth of gold as a partner in a certain claim, and his friends
had tried to get him away to reclaim him, but he would not leave the
place, and preferred to spend the money as he got it in the desert.
Occasionally some poor miner gets lost in the Bush and is never heard
of again. The blacks were very troublesome at one time about here, but
there are now very few. Mr. J. Leyland, one of the original owners of
the Little Wonder Mine, was killed by them about two years ago. He had
gone out to look for two horses that were lost, and having found them had
camped for the night at Doyle’s Well, about 20 miles off, and was boiling
his billy when he noticed a bush in motion close by, and before he could
arm himself two blacks sprang upon him and hit him on the head with a
waddy, and then speared the horses, leaving Mr. Leyland, as they thought,
dead. They then, having satisfied their thirst for blood, decamped. On
the poor man’s return to consciousness he dragged himself to the horses
and found one poor beast dead but the other not severely injured. He
managed to mount it, and horse and rider, covered with blood, managed to
make their way back to the mine. The horse dropped dead on their arrival
there, and poor Leyland only lived long enough to relate his terrible
night’s experience. Two men were lost in the Bush a little after this,
and parties went out searching for them. One poor fellow was found dead
under a tree, with his billy beside him, on the smoked part of which was
scratched: “Dying from thirst; Jim tried to go on, follow him.” A horse
lying dead close by mutely told a dreadful tale. The search-party, going
on for many miles, at last came across a hut near a well. The hut-keeper
told them he was awakened by a noise at daybreak, and on looking out saw
a dark object leaning over a rough hollowed-out tree trunk (used for
giving his horse a drink) and ravenously gulping down the water like a
thirsty wild animal. It was hardly daylight, so he could not distinguish
what it was, but knowing there were no wild animals about he ventured out
to see, and found it was the other poor lost man in the throes of death.
He took him into the hut and cared for him as well as he could, but it
was too late, so all the search-party could do was to dig a grave and
bury the second poor mate as they had done the first.
About 62 miles from Leonora is the splendid goldfields’ pastoral station,
called Sturt’s Meadows, which belongs to Mr. Manuel, and consists of
570,000 acres of land. There is an abundance of water, and wells have
been sunk in many parts to supply the enormous herds of stock which Mr.
Manuel sends to the southern markets. The boundary of the station lies
20 miles away, and we drove 18 miles, during which we were always on
the property, before coming to the homestead. Here we were hospitably
received, and tasted “Brownie,” a currant loaf peculiar to this station,
of which I can personally speak in the highest terms. Mr. Manuel drives
four and sometimes six brumbies, and the way he gets over the ground is
simply amazing.
[Illustration: Off by the Coach to Lawlers]