"No one. We sent no opal to Sydney."
"But the boxes and sacks——?"
"Were filled with potch."
"An'—an' the forty-four feet level is—but ah! you make mistake; I bought five tousant pound of its opal before I saw you."
"Yes, I know, but you bought all that ever came from that depth. It was merely a pocket; we discovered that much two days after Satan, your old friend, left White Cliffs. It was in his claim, probably because it happened to be the lowest lying. We might not have sold our claims to you but for the fact that Satan returned, and—well, you know two hundred pounds is not fair value for five thousand."
Aaron's rage was great, but he afterwards paid six hundred sovereigns for the opal we had brought down from Lake Frome. We did not go back there, a shower of rain came on and flooded the lake, and after chasing the elusive gem over the greater part of Queensland with more or less success, our party reformed and set out on a gold-prospecting trip to British New Guinea.
[PROSPECTING IN BRITISH NEW GUINEA]
The life of the prospector in New Guinea is not fraught with many pleasures, but in my experience, oftener than elsewhere, he enjoys that exquisite sensation which attends the unexpected finding of gold, and here the dreary monotony of life in the Australian interior is exchanged for conditions more congenial to his wandering nature.