I expressed my gratitude in, I fear, rather stinted terms, for the eerie shadow of the great pines had a somewhat depressing influence on my spirits. I tramped on with my new acquaintances in silence, my swag slung picturesquely over my shoulder as in days of yore.
"It is a bit lonesome like," grumbled Long Ted, as he marched on ahead, separating the festooning branches for our easier progress. "Can you blame a man for being ragged after this?" he demanded irrelevantly a few moments later, his mind apparently reverting to our first meeting. It was clear that Long Ted's frustrated holiday was still a rankling subject in that worthy's breast.
The air was wonderfully cool and invigorating, despite the enclustering thicket, and the absence of the ubiquitous mosquito made me marvel not a little. It was the deathlike silence that hurt; it oppressed the senses to an appalling degree, and tended to reduce one unaccustomed to forest solitudes to an enervating state of melancholy. Had the journey been made by daylight it might have been different, but fate ordains that the traveller to this land should first see Nature's most dreary aspect. I was startled from my unprofitable musings by English Bob shouting—
"Here we are at last. Now, Ted, make us some supper; and let us be merry, for to-morrow we——"
"Go out gum-digging," I prompted, sinking down in a corner of the aptly-named wigwam with a sigh of relief.
It was a week later. The sun was shining brightly over the sylvan slopes of the great gum region, and tinging the nodding plumes of the stately forest giants with a deep bronze effulgence; yet down below the spreading branches a perpetual twilight reigned, and here, piercing and trenching the mossy sward in search of the fossilised resin residue, the strangely assorted waifs of the world wandered, English Bob and I had become fast friends during our brief sojourn together. Concerning his past I did not inquire, having already learned that the grim gum-land swallows up many of life's tragedies; but day by day I expected a dread dénoûement. The newspaper paragraph still haunted me; my mind was filled with conflicting doubts and fears. The motley assembly who formed our neighbours near and distant were a generous and true-hearted people, among whom it was a pleasure to abide. The same environment affected all, and for the time we were as one huge family, dwelling within the encircling arm of grand old mother Nature.
Each day we sallied out armed with spade and spear, the latter implement being merely a long pointed stick provided with a handle for leverage, and rarely indeed did we return to camp without a goodly store of the amberlike deposit. The method of working was simple. By means of the spear the spongy soil was easily penetrated, and the presence of any gum strata localised at once, after which the spade came into play. The value of the crude material thus brought to the surface was no mean figure, ranging from £50 to £70 a ton.
This morning we had been exceptionally fortunate, Long Ted spearing a huge block of the gelatinous substance almost with his first effort, and we were busy clearing away the covering earth when two woe-begone individuals appeared before us.
"Slim Jim and Never Never Dan," gasped Long Ted, gazing at the apparitions in undisguised wonder. "Where—what—how—an' ye does have a mighty neck to come back in them togs."
Then I noticed that the miserable-looking pair were arrayed in fashionable raiment, though already considerably torn by contact with the entangling brush.