“Done,” said Cathro. “The matter is closed. The claim is yours. Now, that’s how I like to do business; just a straight offer and a prompt acceptance. Scarlett, this is Mr. Chesterman. He takes my place. You can take him over the ranges and along the blazed track: no doubt, you’ll find him a better bushman than myself. Chesterman is accustomed to carry a 70lb. swag; he’ll make an excellent beast of burden. I wish you luck, Chesterman.”
“But don’t you think,” said Mr. Crewe, turning to the horsey man, “don’t you think you’re rather hasty in buying for such a large sum a property you have never seen?”
“I’ve been on several gold-fields,” said Chesterman, “and I have had good luck on all of them. My method has always been to act on the first information of a discovery. A field is always richest at the beginning of the rush, and I know by experience that the picked claims, on a new field that yields such results as this does on the first washing, are worth having. I start to-morrow. Is it possible to get a horse through?”
“No,” replied the pioneer, “not the slightest chance of it. Until a track is cut, it will be quite impossible; but if you’re good in the bush you can follow the blaze, when once you have struck it.”
At this moment, there entered the room a very imposing person. He was quite six feet high, and broad in proportion; his frank and open face was adorned with a crisp, gold-coloured beard. He was dressed in a rough, grey, tweed suit, and carried a newspaper in his hand. Big men are not usually excitable, but the blue eyes of this Hercules were ablaze with suppressed emotion. In a voice that sounded like a cathedral bell, he said, without preface or introduction, so that the room rang again, “Listen. ‘Gold discovery in the Eastern ranges. There has arrived in town a lucky digger who is said to have sold, this morning, some 800 ounces of gold to the Kangaroo Bank. It is understood that the precious metal came from a new gold-field on Bush Robin Creek, which lies somewhere Eastward of the Dividing Range. From accounts received, it would appear that a field of unequalled richness has been opened up, and that a phenomenal rush to the new El Dorado will shortly set in. All holders of Miners’ Rights are entitled to peg off claims.’ Gentlemen, I have been to the Kangaroo Bank,” continued the giant, “and I have seen the gold myself. It is different from any sold here hitherto, barring some 70 ounces, which were brought in a few weeks ago, from the same locality. So, you see, we have had a gold rush created at our very doors. I propose that all the men present form themselves into a committee to wait upon the local representative of the Minister for Mines—that, I take it, would be the Commissioner for Lands—and urge the construction of a graded track to the new field.”
“A very good suggestion,” said Mr. Crewe, “a very good suggestion. For if you want to get these Government people to do anything, by Jupiter, you need to commence early. We’ll go along, if you are willing, gentlemen; we’ll go in a body to the Red Tape Office, and see what can be done. But before we go, let us drink the health of Mr. Scarlett, here. He has done remarkably well in bringing this discovery to light, and I ask you to drink to his continued good luck, at my expense, gentlemen, entirely at my expense.”
The steward of the club, a thin, dark man, with black eyes which were watchful and merry, went quietly round the room, which was now filled with men, and took their orders. Then he disappeared.
“I think, gentlemen,” continued Mr. Crewe, “that, as the oldest colonist present, I may be allowed to express an opinion. I think I may say, without fear of contradiction, that I have watched the development of many gold-fields in my time, and have benefited by not a few; and, gentlemen, from the description given by our friend, here, this new field is likely to prove the richest of them all. By far the best thing is for the younger men amongst us to go and prove the thing. I should recommend a party being formed under the guidance of Mr. Scarlett, and that it should start as soon as possible. I would go myself if I were a few years younger, and I will go so soon as the track is cut. I shall see the field myself. But I am really too old to contend with supple-jacks and ‘lawyers’ and the thick undergrowth of the bush. I should only be in your way. I should only be a nuisance.”
The quick-eyed steward, who, by a method of memory known only to himself, had retained in his mind the correct list of the strange and various liquors ordered, now appeared with a gigantic tray, on which he bore a multitude of glasses. These he deftly handed round, and then all present rose to their feet.
“Mr. Scarlett,” said the Father of Timber Town. “I ask you to drink his health and continued good luck.”