Arrived at the mine, we donned our mining costumes and climbed to the top of a high mound, where the crushing apparatus stood. The contents of one of the huge cylinders had been kept especially for us to see, and the miners now proceeded to run it out, with the result that a good proportion of small nuggets was obtained. This was by no means the last process. There would be two or three further washings. We next went down the mine—in a cage, as is usual—and had to walk through the workings, for there were no trucks or trolleys. The operations have been successful, and the character of the ground leads to the belief that large nuggets may yet be found in the river bed. After going through a great many of the levels I felt tired, and sat down, and, to amuse myself, proceeded to scratch in the side of the heading in order to fill a little pannikin, which Miss Cornwall said each of the children and I were to have to wash out in the old-fashioned miner's way. Each pannikin was marked and sent to the top in charge of one of the 'head gangers.' Many of the miners were Cornishmen who had emigrated from the old country, and were bringing up their sons to their own calling in this wonderful new land. They have a saying here that a Cornish miner is the best miner in the world, and the only one better is a Cornish man's son. The meaning of this is that you cannot begin a calling too early in life, and that an intimate, though perhaps unscientific, knowledge of the various strata is of the utmost importance in mining operations.
On returning to the surface the air seemed frightfully cold in comparison with the warm atmosphere of the mine; and I shivered and shook, as I sat by a little heap of débris, and washed out my pannikin of dirt. But I only obtained about half an ounce of small gold nuggets, which, however, the experienced say, denote the proximity of a bed of very much larger specimens.[3] It seemed delightful to get into the warm shelter of the office, put on our wraps again, and enjoy the lunch so kindly provided for us. We drank success to the Midas Mine and all connected with it, specially to the energetic discoverer, principal shareholder, and manageress—Miss Cornwall.
Immediately after lunch Tom and I were obliged to leave, as we wished to call on the Bishop. There was only just time to do this and catch the train to Geelong, at which place we arrived at about half-past six. We were met at the station by Mr. Bartlett (one of the numerous sons of the Mr. Bartlett who was so long with Mr. Brassey in France, Spain, and other parts of the world), and soon found ourselves on board the yacht again, which looked, as usual, pleasant and homelike after our short absence.
Saturday, June 11th.—I was up early, and tried to rouse the other people up too, so as to be ready to receive the Mayor and Corporation, who arrived punctually, accompanied by their ladies. The presentation of the address of welcome took some time, and then we had to go ashore and drive round the town of Geelong to admire its public buildings and natural beauties. Tom went first, with the principal members of the Corporation, in a break drawn by four horses, and I followed with the children in other carriages. We drove first to the skating-rink, through nice broad streets with good houses on each side. There we were shown an excellent collection of New Guinea curiosities belonging to a German explorer. From the skating-rink we drove through fine streets to the Botanical Gardens, where we were given beautiful nosegays, and there met the rest of the party, who were being taken round by the curator. The gardens, and especially the houses, seem admirably planned. I noticed an ingenious arrangement of water-pipes leading to the top of the tree-ferns, by which the parasites growing on them are kept constantly moist.
When we had thoroughly explored the gardens we bade adieu to the Mayor and our friends on shore, and went off to the yacht. We reached Hobson's Bay at dusk, and arrived at Government House in the middle of dinner!
Exhibition Buildings, Melbourne