At six o'clock in the evening, Grainger was seated at one end of the
rough dining-table in the “Digger's Best” with some papers laid before
him, At the other end was Dick Scott, and the rest of the men sat on
either side, smoking their pipes, and wondering what was in the wind.
Grainger did not keep them waiting long. Taking his pipe ont of his
month, and laying it on the table, he went into business at once, He
spoke to them as if he were one of themselves, adopting a simplicity of
language and manner that he knew would appeal to their common sense and
judgment far more than an elaborately prepared speech.
“Now, boys, I've got something to say, and I'll say it as quick as I
can. None of you know anything of me beyond what I have told you myself;
but I don't think any one of you will imagine I'm a man who would try to
ring in a swindle on you when I bought the old rattletrap down there?”
“Go ahead, mister,” said Dick Scott, “we didn't think no such thing. We
on'y thought you was chuckin' away your money pernicious.”
Grainger laughed so heartily that his hearers followed suit Then he went
on--
“No. I'm not throwing my money away, boys. I am going to _make_ money on
this field, and so are you. But there are not enough of us. We want more
men--wages' men; and presently I'll explain _why_ we shall want them.
But first of all, let me show you what I obtained the other day out of
between 200 and 250 lbs. weight of those tailings.”
He rose, went into the second room, and returned with a small enamelled
dish, and placed it upon the table. The miners rose and gathered round,
and saw lying on the bottom about an ounce and a quarter of fine powdery
gold.
“Holy Moses!” cried one of them, as he drew his forefinger through the
bright, yellow dust, “there's more than an ounce there.”
“There is,” affirmed Grainger: “there are twenty-five pennyweights, and
all that came out of not more than 250 lbs. of tailings!”
The men looked at each other with eyes sparkling with excitement,
and then Grainger poured the gold out upon a clean plate for closer
examination.
“Why,” exclaimed Scott, “that means those tailings would go ten ounces
to the ton!”
“Just so,” said Grainger, “but we can't get those ten ounces out of them
by ordinary means, though with new screens, new tables and blankets I
am pretty sure we can get four ounces to the ton. But we want the ten,
don't we?”
“You bet,” was the unanimous response.
“Well, I'll guarantee that we shall get eight ounces at least. But first
of all I'll tell you how I got the result. You can try some of the stuff
in the morning, and you will find that those tailings will pan out about
eight or ten ounces to the ton.”
“But acid is mighty dear stuff,” said Scott.
“Just so, but it is very good as a test, and of course we are not
such duffers as to try to treat more than a couple of thousand tons of
tailings with acid. We'd die of old age before we finished. Now, I'll
get on and tell you what I do propose. You remember that I said I had
seen tailings treated in Victoria without roasting. Well, we could do
that now, though we should only get half the gold and lose the other
half in the sludge pits. Now, as I told you, I have about four hundred
pounds' worth of alluvial gold, which I brought with me from the north,
and which I can sell to any bank in the Bay. I intended when I bought
the 'Ever Victorious' to spend this £400 in buying some fine screens, a
couple of grinding pans, and some other gold-saving machinery, so that
when I was not crushing stone for you men I could be running those
tailings through. But we can do better--now that the Chinamen are here.”
Something like dismay was depicted on the men's faces when they heard
this, but no one interrupted as he went on--
“We can do much better. Instead of treating those tailings by simply
running them through the screens again and losing half the gold, we can
build a proper roasting farnaoe, and _then_ we can grind them, keeping
the stampers for crushing alone. This morning I had a long yarn with Ah
San, the boss Chinaman, and he is willing to let us have as many of his
men as we want for twenty-five shillings a week each, and indenture them
to me for six months--there's the labour we want, right to our hand.
It's cheap labour, I admit, but that is no concern of ours. The Chows,
so Ah San tells me, will be only too glad to get a six months' job at
twenty-five bob a week--of which he takes half.”
“Aye,” said Scott contemptuously, “they're only bloomin' slaves.”
“To their boss, no doubt; but not to us. They will be well pleased to
work for us and earn what they consider good wages. I propose that we
get at least twenty of them and set them to work right away. There is
any amount of good clay here, I know, and we'll start them digging. I
know how to build a brick-kiln, and we'll get a proper bricklayer up
from the Bay, and I guarantee that by the time the new machinery is up
that the roasting furnace will be built.”
“No need to get a bricklayer from the Bay and pay him about eight pound
a week,” said a man named Arthur O'Hare; “I'm a bricklayer by trade.”
“Bully for you,” said Grainger; “will you take four pounds a week to put
up the furnace and chimney?”
“I'm willing, if my mates are.”
“Well, boys, that's pretty well all I have to say. We'll build the
roasting furnace; the Chinamen will do all the bullocking{*} both at
that and the battery, and we'll put on half-a-dozen to help at the new
shaft. I'll boss the battery, drive the engine, and do the amalgamating,
and you men can go on roasting stone. Every Saturday we'll stop the
battery and clean her up, and at the end of every four weeks we'll send
the gold to the bank and go shares in the plunder. Now, tell me, what do
you think? Do you think it's a fair proposition?”
* “Bullocking”--hard work--i.e., to work like bullook. In a
team.
After a very brief consultation together, Scott, speaking on behalf of
his mates, said they were all willing, and not only willing, but pleased
to “come in” with him, but they thought that he would only be acting
fairly to himself if he, as manager of the battery, amalgamator, and
general supervisor of the whole concern, took a salary of ten pounds a
week.
“No, boys. I'll take six pounds if you like. Of course, however, you
will not object to refunding me the money I am expending on the new
machinery. As for the profits, we shall divide equally.
“Well then,” said Scott, banging his brawny fist on the table and
turning to his mates, “if you treats us in that generous way, we must do
the same with you as regards the stone we raise. Boys, I proposes that
as our new mate is finding the money to start the old battery again, and
going even shares with us in the gold from the tailings, that we go even
shares with him in whatever gold we get from the claims.”
“Right,” was the unanimous response. And then they all came up one by
one and shook hands with Grainger, whose face flushed with pleasure.
Then Jansan produced a bottle of rum and Grainger gave them a toast--
“Boys, here's good luck to us all, and here's to the day when we shall
hear the stampers banging away in the boxes and the 'Ever Victorious' be
as victorious as she was in the good old days of the field.”