When the wet season sets in, the holes are often filled up and rendered useless, if not, the walls become insecure, and serious accidents have occurred in consequence. Surface washing then becomes the rage. The country is explored and hills are tried. Where favourable the surface is skimmed over, carted to the water, and washed. Though not so rich as that from holes, the stuff is got at less labour, and the water is nearer at hand. The holes at Bendigo are the shallowest, and those of Ballarat the deepest; many of the former are under six feet, and the latter, more than thirty feet. In California to save time in prospecting, a number will form a miners’ club, pay down a certain sum each, select two or three good men and true, and send them prospecting, while the others remain at steady work. Quartz crushing is not likely to pay here like in some places, as Brazil, where labor is cheap. The size of the claim differs from that in California, where no regular system is adopted, but where it is determined by the miners, at the several localities. Here one man is allowed eight feet long by eight broad, though no party, however many in number, can have a portion larger than sixteen feet long and the same in breadth.
The care of animals at the mines is no small difficulty and trial. Food in the dry season is confined to oats and bran for the horses, and these at such prices as to make the weekly cost of a horse from £3 to £5. Some men close their work early, and take the beasts perhaps four or five miles to some scanty pasture, and stopping there in their 'possum rug for the night, bring them in the next morning. There is the great nuisance of animals straying, and the loss of time to parties looking for them. Not a few of the better kind find their way to sales in Melbourne, for the profit of those who have had the trouble of bringing them all the way down from some run near the diggings.
It is a mistake to imagine that none but diggers do well at the mines. Without regarding the gold buyers, and storekeepers, who do sometimes realize a few hundreds per cent per annum, the blacksmiths manage to hammer a good many ounces out of the diggers. One told me that he gave his men 25s a day and their board and lodging, and that he would willingly give 50s. a hundred feet of sawn stuff, and pay cartage himself. Excellent wages are made by others at hut building. Several trades could there be conducted most profitably; such as shoemaking, harness making, &c. Of course medical men collect a little of the gold dust. Of all employments, that of carter in the dry season appears to me the least enviable, walking continually beside their bullocks or horses in one cloud of dust, and tormented by myriads of flies.
The routine of toil is not a monotonous one. The engagements are various, and constant excitement attends them. Occasionally a rush gives animation to a gully. The seizure of a grog-tent, a squabble about claims, the horn of the news-vendor, a visit from the commissioner, give a diversion to the scene. License time gives good opportunity for talk. Instead of the thirty shillings for the monthly license, a man may pay half-an-ounce of gold. Usually the first ten days of the month are days of grace; after that, enquiries may be expected as to the possession of the document. Though the risk is not great, few are without their licenses. The five pounds penalty is often not so bad as the loss of time. A policeman one day demanded a sight of his license from a digger at Friar’s Creek. The man civilly said it was in his waistcoat down the hole, and that he would go and fetch it directly. He departed, and forgot to return. The hole was visited, but the bird had flown. As it happened, there was much tunnelling in that part, and the man had quietly passed along the subterranean passages, and raised his head from another and distant cell.
Now, as to success at the diggings;—although cases, plentiful as blackberries, occur in which parties have been two or three months up and more, without doing anything beyond paying expenses, yet I am not expected to talk of these. We all want to hear of the fortunate, and make no enquiry about unlucky diggers. It is, however, a fact that many who have dug nineteen holes in vain, have dropped upon the gold in the twentieth. A party that I knew were five weeks wholly without success; in three weeks after they got £900. Four men were weeks without luck, when they fell in with 75lbs weight. Another was four months and in debt, when a bright day came suddenly in the shape of a £500 share. There were two parties, friends of equal strength, working in the same place for three mouths; the one did not pay expenses, the other walked off with 98lbs weight. At the foot of a tree three fellows took out £1800 worth; they went down to Melbourne, and stopped till they had knocked it all down. I knew a man at Bendigo who washed out 9lbs of gold from a nosebag of stuff. At Ballarat two tubs yielded 24lbs. The surfacing at Golden Gully, Friar’s Creek, was so immensely rich, that to talk of sums would appear speaking fables. Holes have been bought for an ounce of gold which have realized many pounds weight. A friend of mine met a man whom he knew, walking in rags and dirt behind a dusty dray to town, and yet carrying £1500 worth of gold. In Peg Leg gully 50 and even 80lbs have been taken from holes three or four feet deep. Several companies of sailors have been remarkable fortunate, and so have those of our sober and worthy German fellow-colonists. A hole at Forest Creek produced 60lbs in one day, and 40lbs more the day after. The Burra miners are no luckier than digging tailors. From one of our golden gullies a party took 198lbs in six weeks. The largest Victorian nugget weighed 25lbs. Perseverance will accomplish wonders at the diggings as elsewhere. Men must not be down-hearted if not successful at first. They must try, try, try again. Even the aborigines are wealthy in these times. I met a party of them at Bullock Creek well clothed, with a good supply of food, new cooking utensils, and money in their pockets. One remarked with becoming expression of dignity, “me no poor blackfellow now, me plenty rich blackfellow.”
THE DIGGER AT HOME.
The new comer may wish to know how we diggers spend our time at home. We boast no courtly halls, nor woodbine bowers. We glory not in rosewood cheffoniers nor Turkey carpets. Our festal board is not decorated with embroidered cloth, nor laden with viands and tasteful vases. We live in canvas homes, or huts of bark and logs. Free ventilation is universally adopted on Hygean principles. Our furniture is of a simple character. A box, a block of wood, or a bit of paling across a pail, serves as a table; though a few among us scorn such indulgence. Some luxurious ones positively have rough stools as seats; the majority recline upon their beds, or make use of a log, the ground, or a pail turned upside down. Our dinner service comprises not many pieces. We have those who indulge in plates, knives and forks; but it must not be supposed that all are so fastidious. The washing of the plates, and cleaning of knives and forks, require an appreciation of cleanliness most foreign to the lofty genius of the diggings. Besides, the chops can be picked out of the frying pan, placed on a lump of bread, and cut with a clasp knife that has done good service in fossicking during the day.
In the rooming the diggers rise from their hard beds and prepare for breakfast. Happy are they on a wet day who have a sheltered fire place. Fortunately wood is cheap enough, though the havock made in the Bendigo forests will certainly clear the land. The eternal chops are cooked, the pannicans of scalding tea are filled, and the first meal passes over. Active preparations are now made for work. The several dinners are tied up, the travelling pot of tea got ready, the tools gathered together, and with the never to be forgotten pipe, forth they sally into the world of adventure. At twelve or one, a hasty repast is taken, and the pannican and pipe again called in requisition. Before sundown parties are observed branching off from the gully homeward. After a hard day’s work one is not disposed to be too particular about the evening meal, and the mode in which it is prepared. Something has yet to be done. The morrow has claims. The damper is eaten. Taking a washing tin dish, and clearing off the dirt a little, six or eight pannicans of flour are thrown in; a half table spoonful of carbonate of soda, the like quantity of tartaric acid, and a spoonful of salt are mixed together in a pannican, and then well mingled with dry flour. Water is then poured in, the whole thoroughly knuckled, rolled into a good shaped loaf, and tumbled at once into the warmed camp oven. Fire is applied beneath and above the oven in a way to insure uniform heat, and a couple of hours or less will turn out a loaf fit to set before the queen. Saturday afternoon and Sunday morning are especially consecrated to cookery. The same camp oven has, perhaps, to turn out two loaves, a baked joint for dinner, and, mystery of mysteries, a boiled plum pudding in the bargain. Add to all this, potatoes when you can afford to pay for them, not forgetting a few boiled onions, should you chance to boil in your oven a leg of mutton. A good cook is recognized at the diggings as well as at a club-house. Some men will not take time to make a wholesome loaf, but content themselves with dry or fat Johnny cakes, which are simply of flour and water, or with the addition of greasy accumulation of cookery, hastily prepared in the frying pan. Many lose health by inattention to meals. By a little forethought and prudent management much waste could be prevented, excellent dishes be obtained, and an increase of comfort be produced, which would make the probation at the mines much more endurable. It is here that the skill and economy of a woman are seen to advantage in a tent. The cost of provisions varies greatly. I knew two men at the Loddon, who lived for seven shillings a week each. Afterwards, when flour at the Bendigo rose to two shillings a pound, the board was rather more expensive. Meat is seldom more than fourpence a pound. Cheese, butter, pickles, ham, bacon, sardines, and eau de Cologne, are enjoyed only by successful miners.
Amusements are not in harmony with the diggings. Men come there usually to work in earnest, and they have no time for play. Yet now and then a song is heard, with the notes of a flute or violin. At Bullock Creek a sick friend was charmed on the one side by Kate Kearney, and on the other by the whole range of Wesley’s hymns proceeding from a most indefatigable Burra songstress. In one tent near me there was an occasional concert of a fife, a dish-bottom drum, and a primitive sort of triangles. As a sample of a diggings song, a selection may be given. It is said to be set to the air of “Coronation.”
In bush attire let each aspire