"That's true," Owens agreed, "and it has been a characteristic of Australia that all the big finds have been made by lucky accidents. Even recent discoveries are no exception. Did you ever hear the story of Pilbarra and the crow?"
"Never did."
"It's a classic in Australian gold mining. It's as queer a story as I know. It doesn't sound true, a bit, but all the documents in the case are on record.
"One fine day, a youngster in West Australia—clear across the other side of the continent from Bathurst and Ballarat—was idling along a narrow track, as youngsters will, even when sent on a hurried message. On his way, he saw a black crow hopping some distance away. With a natural boy movement, he picked up a stone and shied it at the crow. The bird gave a loud croak and flew away a little distance, but in the same direction in which the boy was walking. Presently the crow was within throwing distance, again. The boy stooped to pick up another stone.
"Just as he was about to let fly, however, he noticed some gold specks in it and took it home. There he showed it to his father, who was an employe in the convict prison there. His father showed it to the Warden, as he was compelled to do, for he was also a convict, though a 'trusty.'
"The much-excited Warden knew that the governor of the colony ought to be notified at once, but how was he to do so without the secret leaking out through the telegraph office? Forgetting, in his excitement, that the governor did not know as much about the matter as he did, he sent the following message:
"'Boy here has just thrown stone at crow.'
"He entirely neglected to mention that there was anything special in either the stone or the crow.
"The telegram puzzled the governor not a little. But he had a sense of humor, and he replied to the Warden's telegram with the following message:
"'Yes; but what happened to the crow?'