“A long distance, considering we have no money.”
“You will have half the reward. Your share will be fifty pounds.”
“That won’t do us any good now, unless you’ll be kind enough to advance us a part of that sum.”
“I would if I were able, but I am not provided with any money beyond what I need. You and the boys may come with us, however, if you wish.”
“I should like nothing better, captain. Once at Bendigo, and we’ll manage to shift for ourselves.”
“Very well, so let it be.”
I pass over the events of the next two days. Obed and the boys, after all their troubles, found themselves provided with an official escort, and on the morning of the third day arrived at the famous goldfields of Bendigo.
Ballarat and Mount Alexander preceded Bendigo in point of time, but Bendigo has been far more productive. As the little party descended a hill made white by the sandy dirt thrown out of the mines, they saw below them Bendigo Creek, yellow as the Tiber, running sluggishly through the valley, which on either side had been dug up by prospectors for gold. All about on the slopes of the hills and in the valley were rude huts, hastily put together, the homes of the miners. Some of them were built of solid trunks of trees laid horizontally, after the backwoods order of architecture. The interstices were generally daubed with clay to make them water-tight, and the roofs were covered with sheets of bark, kept down by logs laid upon them. There were tents also, made of slabs, and covered with canvas. Still others were covered with bullock hides.
To Harry and Jack the sight was a novel one, and they regarded the extemporised village with interest.
Obed’s eyes glistened, and he rubbed his hands with delight.