FAR away from the quiet English shire of Hereford, under a burning Australian sun, a group of people of all ages, and from all parts of the world, were gathered together hard at work digging for gold. Not long before, a vein of the precious metal had been discovered at Kiandra, and a crowd of people from all parts of the world had resorted thither, allured by the hope of making a fortune.
Gold to be had for the picking it up, or at least by simply digging for it! Such was the idea which had impressed the mind of many who had rushed to the Kiandra gold-fields. Little had they reckoned on the hardships before them—days and nights of toil spent standing above the knees in water; laborious digging, only to be rewarded, in most cases, by small nuggets of gold which, when separated from the dross mixed with it, often proved of little or no value. Whilst provisions, and even the bare necessaries of life, could be obtained only at fabulous prices. Add to this a climate more changeable than that of almost any other part of the world, and you will scarcely wonder that, although in some few cases large nuggets were obtained and the coveted fortune made, to the great majority of diggers, the gold-fields of Kiandra brought only disappointment, and in many instances ruined health and an early grave in a foreign land.
But on the warm day we write of, hope was filling every breast, and work seemed light under its influence; for that very morning in one of the claims, some specially good nuggets had been found, and visions of abundance of gold rose before many eyes. The burning rays of the sun struck fiercely on the workers; but they heeded it not, led on by the thirst for gold. But in the group a momentary lull came, and the word rung out—
"Carry him into the shed, lads. The sun has been too much for him. Carry him in, I say."
The speaker, a pleasant-looking man, putting down the "cradle" in which he was washing the gold, went forward and helped to lift a young lad who had fallen prostrate to the ground in the midst of his work.
They carried him to a canvas hut, and laid him on a low bed there.
Presently he opened his eyes and looked around.
"Where am I," he said, "and what has happened?"
The man who had so kindly helped to carry him to the hut said cheerily, "Don't be frightened, Will; you're in good hands. 'Twas just the sun was a bit too hot for you, and you fainted, that's all. You'll have to lie still a bit, my good fellow; but I tell you what, if a nugget falls to my share I'll halve it with you. I'm not one to forget the good turn you did me, Will, in keeping me from the gaming-table the week we spent together in Sydney. Thank God you did, my boy, for I know what it would have led to now."
The boy groaned, and turned uneasily on his bed, then said, "Alick, don't say you or any one else owes anything to me; only, God helping me, I'll never touch a card in my life again, nor let any one do so, if I can help it."