There was little trouble in following the right road, which led to the plains of the Oxley, on the head-waters of which this last-found Eldorado had arisen. Had we felt any uncertainty, it would have been quickly removed, for, in front, behind, on every side, were wayfarers journeying to the same goal in every sort of conveyance drawn by animals of many kinds.
Bullock drays, horse drays, American express-wagons, hand- carts drawn by men, and even wheel-barrows propelled by sturdy arms, were there. Women laden with immense bundles were dragging young children by the hand, or as often carrying infants in their arms.
Sometimes a drove of cattle, with riders shouting and cracking huge whips behind them, would come upon the hurrying crowd, though, as a rule, they moved parallel with, and at a considerable distance from, the disturbing concourse, whose physical needs they were destined to supply.
The whole movement had the appearance of something between a pilgrimage and a fair, so mixed and incongruous did the component parts appear.
We travelled night and day, only allowing ourselves needful rest and food, and bearing hard upon the good horse that carried our chattels. On the sixth day, we reached the Oxley, and had a free and uninterrupted view of the great "rush. " Itwas a strange sight. We, who had seen many gold-fields, hadnever before seen one exactly like this.
The auriferous deposit had been so exceedingly rich in one particular point of land or cape which ran into the river, that not a spot of the surface soil was to be seen. This was the famous "jeweller"s shop, " where the very earth seemed composed of gold-dust, with gold gravel for variety. Thousands and tens of thousands of pounds" worth of the precious metal had been taken out of a few square feet here, and no blanks had been drawn in the lottery of pegging claims in the immediate vicinity.
We were fortunate in meeting at the outset a friend whom we had known in Ballarat, and, as he had already taken up a claim, and was employing men to work it, he very willingly proffered his services and advice to us. Following him, we skirted the great, throbbing hive of eager workers spurred on by greed and gain to such desperate efforts that an unnatural silence reigned over the scene.
We came to a halt near our friend"s claim, and, pointing out a spot, he said, "You see this is a place where the greenstone and the granite meet. It is my experience that in such a conjunction there is always gold, and heavy gold, too. "After pegging out our claim, we put up our tent, and made ourselves as comfortable as circumstances permitted.
At daylight next morning we were at work. The sun was not high before we had our stage and windlass up, and were delving away as if we intended to solve the question of theearth"s central fires.
We were none of us new at the work; and we were all young and in splendid condition. The consequence was that we went down at such a pace that more than one of the parties that were daily arriving stopped, all eager as they were, to wonder at the rapidity with which our beautifully straight and even shaft was boring, as if with a gigantic auger, towards the bedrock.
We bottomed one afternoon, in about a week"s time; and, by nightfall, the " field " was aware that Pole and party were so " dead on the gutter " that every dish they took out was half gold.
From The Miner"s Right, by "Rolf Boldrewood, "Author.- " Rolf Boldrewood "was the pen-name of Thomas Alex- ander Browne (1826-1915), born in London and educated in Sydney. He was a police magistrate, a squatter, and a goldfields warden. His two best works are Robbery Under Arms and The Miner"s Right.
General.-You can"t know the persons of this story without readingthe whole book. Mr. Browne was warden and police magistrate in the seventies and early eighties at Gulgong, near Mudgee, in New South Wales. He makes use of his own experience in telling the story, of which the exact scene does not matter. You will not find an Oxley River on the map, though there are counties, hills, and towns of that name, called after Oxley(1781-1828), explorer and surveyor. Discuss the mining terms duffer, rush, bottomed, bed-rock, dead on the gutter. An El Dorado (the golden) is any fabulous place of riehes-a Spanish name for a mythical town in South America. Does the story ring true? Tell your own experiences or thoughts about mining places. What other Australian writers have stories or poems about mining?
Lesson 63
THE COACHWHIP BIRD
Who slipped across the gully then On silent wings?
The mouse-like warblers flit and cheep,
Somewhere a lyre-bird, hidden deep, Triumphant sings.
But who dropped light as a shadow flake
In the wattle-down?
Oh, hush ! Oh, hush ! Peer up and see ! A shimmer of darkness green wears he,And a royal crown.
Oh, hush ! He sings ! One long-drawn note Rings overhead;One lovely note that swells and swells Till, just as we come to the burst of bells,Snaps the whip, instead !
In this fern cave of secret songs Some great joy dwellsUnguessed by timid mortal folk;
But the crested bird with the whip-lash stroke, The siren call, arid the sudden joke,He almost tells.
Elsie Cole
Author.-Elsie Cole (Mrs. A. H. Angell) is a Melbourne poetess who has contributed in prose and verse to various journals and magazines and has published one volume of verse entitled Holiday Songs.
General.-The coachwhip bird, known also as the eastern whipbird,or stockwhip bird, found in Eastern Australia, is a dark olive-green bird, with black crest and white markings. It has a loud, full note, which ends with a sound like the crack of a whip. You will more often hear it than see it in the dense scrub that it loves. Do birds feel in themselves the joy their songs give to listeners? A bird must work hard to get its food, and is nearly always in danger of its life. Yet it seems happy, and sings a call to its mate and defiance to rivals. What other poets have written of birds? Make a list of all that you know. Which do you like best?
Lesson 64
SPIDER ORCHIDS
