The dust still brings forth curses both loud and deep, but the country gradually improves, although still of very poor character, and we meet on the way many carriers, some of whom are accompanied by their wives.
Our team by this time, through having to run the double stage, is getting nearly done, so shortly after leaving Creen Creek most of us get out and walk the distance between there and the Carron River, a good four miles stretch, that under the warm rays of a tropical sun increases our temperature considerably; the tedium of the journey being now and then varied by the remarks of such carriers we pass on the road, who call each others attention to the style of locomotion adopted by the passengers per Cobb and Co. The crossing of the Carron is very heavy, being a bed of deep, wet sand, so that all hands have to alight, but the change is only a few yards distant, and we are very pleased to see a fresh team awaiting our arrival, as we are all pretty well baked, and in no humor for another long stretch on foot. So while the fresh horses are being put to, we stroll over to the tent occupied by the groom and his wife, where we find a “drop of the craytur” and a very acceptable cup of tea. The road, after leaving the river, is very heavy for about eight miles, consequently our progress is but slow, and it is nearly sundown before we get on to better travelling country; but Barney here lets them slip, so that we get over the ground pretty rapidly, although it is nearly dark when we cross the “12 mile,” where we discern a range of hills on our left, being the first elevation we have seen since leaving Normanton. Six miles from Croydon we pass the Golden Gate, a very suggestive and appropriate name for the first claim met with on the main road to the field, but as it is now very dark, and the track is full of ruts, stumps and other obstacles, we have to proceed very slowly and carefully for fear of accident, there being no lamps on the coach to guide us on our way.
Two or three miles from Croydon we cross Station Creek, where there is a very good waterhole, into which “Barney” drives for the purpose of giving his horses a drink, water being rather a scarce article in the town itself. We get a bit mixed with a couple of stumps between here and the town, but extricate ourselves safely at length, and shortly afterwards we come in sight of the lights of Croydon twinkling ahead, pulling up in a few minutes to deliver the mails at the post-office, from whence we proceed down the main street, and about 9 p.m. we finally alight at our journey’s end on the verandah of Harries and M‘Cabe’s Imperial Hotel, where a large crowd is assembled to witness our arrival. Host M‘Cabe turns out to be a very old friend whom I had lost sight of for some years, and consequently we were mutually pleased to renew our former acquaintance, and for my own part I felt delighted to meet some one in a new country like this whom I had formerly known so well, as it made me feel quite at home from the start.
A good bath and a good supper soon put everything to rights, and the fatigues of the journey are soon forgotten, so we stroll round to the ballroom, where about 12 couples are enjoying themselves on the light fantastic, the fair sex being especially conspicuous by their dresses and good looks.
Strolling round next morning I was very much struck by the inconvenience and delay caused by the inadequate provision made for the public when seeking letters or telegrams at the hovel that at present does duty for a post-office. Just imagine a crowd of people waiting outside a pigeon-hole cut in a sheet of galvanised iron, at which one person only can be attended to at a time, with an individual inside attending to their wants who is just about as slow as they make them on earth, and who certainly might materially improve his performance of letter-sorting 100 per cent. by practising shuffling and dealing with a pack of cards in his leisure moments.
A friend of mine said to him one day—
“Did you ever attend a funeral?”
“Yes. Why do you ask?”
“Well, I was wondering if you did, how on earth you managed to keep up with the procession.”
And I wondered as well, after calling two or three times at the office for letters.