Luck at the Diamond Fields

by Dalrymple J. Belgrave

Jobling’s Sell is a not over prosperous digging on the banks of the Vaal River. Who Jobling was, and what his Sell might have been, are now rather matters of legend than history, so long ago do the days seem when the place was first rushed, though, as a matter of fact, it is considerably less than twenty years ago. The story goes that Jobling was a wily speculator in strong drinks, and other necessaries, who, having laid in a stock of brandy and groceries, repaired to the spot afterwards named after him, and managed to promote a rush to it by spreading false news of many diamonds having been found there. It is said that Jobling got into rather hot water for this, and was sentenced by a jury of diggers to be dragged through the river as a punishment for having created a bogus rush. But just at the critical moment when the sentence was going to be executed some one found a diamond. Then several other good diamonds were found, and it turned out that Jobling, whatever his intentions might have been, really had been a great benefactor. It is certainly a matter of history that Jobling’s Sell was a wonderfully paying place in its palmy day, before it was more or less worked out. Old Hawkins, who had wandered all over the world as a gold-digger, but had for some reason or other taken root at Jobling’s, was the only digger who remained on there from the old days.

The rest of its population were men who went there for a spell, after having tried other digging on the river, and soon gave it up. Hawkins liked to talk of the big diamonds he had seen found there. Or he would walk along the banks and point out where the big hotel used to be, and where the gambling saloons stood in the days when Jobling’s Sell boasted of all the properties of a prosperous mining camp. Those days were over, and the thirty or so diggers who formed the camp only made enough to live on. One Saturday afternoon a knot of them were collected at the solitary canteen which supplied the wants of Jobling’s Sell. They were not drinking more than was good for them, for money was scarce, and the host, though he swaggered to strangers much about the future in store for ‘Jobling’s,’ did not back up his faith by showing any willingness to score up drinks to its present population.

“Say, boys, have you heard about old Mick Hawkins’s luck?” said a big man with a black beard, Jack Austin by name, who was lounging at the bar.

“No,—what? Has he found anything big?” asked another man.

“Well, he has found a man who is flat enough to give him a ten-pound note for his claim. It is a Kimberley Jew who has made that investment,” answered Austin.

“Never met with that sort of Jew, and I have seen a good bit of them in one country or another,” said another man, who was believed to have had a very varied experience of life, before he found himself digging on the banks of the Vaal River.

“Well, it’s a solid fact; Hawkins showed me the ten-pound note, and he would be here now spending it, only the new proprietor of that claim of his has promised him five pounds a week to work for him.”

“Things are looking up at last, boys,” said the proprietor of the canteen. “I told you they would soon recognise the splendid openings for investment there are down the river. What will you take, boys? Have a drink with me just for luck.”

No one refused the offer, though the enthusiasm the landlord expressed was not shared by the others.

After they had emptied their glasses, some one suggested that they should go round to Hawkins’s claim, and with that intention they lounged out of the canteen, and strolled along the bank in that direction.