GOLD IN NUGGETS AND GRAINS THE GOLD FINDER OF AUSTRALIA HOW HE WENT-HOW HE FARED AND HOW HE MADE HIS FORTUNE. EDITED BY JOHN SHERER. WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS TAKEN ON THE SPOT LONDON CLARKE, BEETON & CO, 148, FLEET STREET. READABLE BOOKS ONE SHILLING EACH, Ornamental Boards, or One Shilling and Sixpence handsomely hound Cloth. Forming a Library, suited as regards Price to the Purse, and regards Portability to the Pocket. REVERIES OF A BACHELOR. By Ik. Marvel. The beau tiful Illustrations in this Volume are—“ The Reverie,” “ The Bachelor,” “ The Quie Farm-house,” “‘A Wife? thought I; yes, a Wife!’” “A Cigar lighted-with a Coal, 1 “ The Morning of Love,” “Enrica,” “ The Sistine Chapel,” “ Bella’s Grave,” “ The Nooi of Love,” “Mont Blanc and the Needles of Charaouni,” and “ Home.” This Book ma also be had printed on large paper in a handsome binding. PICTURES OF EUROPEAN CAPITALS. By W. Ware am Others. Containing superb page Engravings of London, Paris, Rome, the Forum, tt Colosseum, Florence, the Bridge at Florence, Naples, Pompeii, and Mount Vesuvius. WELLINGTON: THE STORY OF HIS LIFE, HIS BATTLES, AND POLITICAL CAREER; AND A POEM ON THE FUNERAL, By Su Francis Hastings Doyle, Bakt. ; and the “Death March of Wellington,” by W. C. Bennett; to which is added AN ELABORATE ACCOUNT OF THE LYING-IN-STATE AND THE FUNERAL. Illustrated with splendid Engrav- ings of the Interior of St. Paul’s, the Funeral Car and Procession, and the Lying-in-State at Chelsea Hospital; also, Portraits of the Duke as he appeared in India (1803), in Portugal (1811), in Spain (1812), Returning Thanks at St. Paul’s (1814), at Waterloo (1815), at Apsley House, at his Last Visit to the Plains of Waterloo, and in the House of Lords in 1862; also the Battle of Assaye, Storming of Ciudad Rodrigo, Battles of Vittoria and of Waterloo, and the Combat of Shaw the Life Guards- man with a French Cuirassier. IHE OLD GUARD OF NAPOLEON. By J.T. Headley. Illus- trated with spirited Engravings of the most stirring Events in its History, viz.—“ The Artillery of the Old Guard under the Command of Drouot,” “The Old Guard,” “Bloody Baptism of the Consular Guard (afterwards the Imperial or Old Guard) at Marengo,” “ The Shearing of the Guard—the Anger of the Officers and Generals,” “ Meeting of the French and the Russian Imperial Guard at Austerlitz,” “ Group of the Old Guard,” “ The Wavering Lines of the Old Guard Re-form,” “ Review of the ‘ Pupils of the Old Guard,’ created for Service to the young King of Rome,” “ The Old Guard marches steadily through Burning Moscow,” “ Bivouacking amid the Snows of Russia,” “ Bes- sieres—Commander of the Old Guard,” “Death of Duroc,” “Napoleon in the Forest of Hanau,” “Napoleon at Montereau,” “Ney—the Bravest of the Brave,” “The Old Guard in his Retirement amid the Solitudes of Texas.” NILE NOTES OF A “ HOWADJIOR, THE AMERICAN IN EGYPT. By G. W. Curtis. Embellished with Thirty Engravings illustrative of the Gorgeous Scenery of the East, the Boats of the Nile, the Ruins of the Ancient Cities and their Monuments, with the Bazaars and other Wonders of Egypt. THE LETTERS OF PETER PLYMLEY, ESSAYS AND SPEECHES. By the Rev. Sydney Smith. Illustrated with Engravings full size of the Page, viz.: —a Portrait of the Author, as also of George Canning, Spencer Per- ceval, Richard Lovel, Edgeworth, Maria Edgeworth, and Charles James Fox; a View of Oxford, and a Sketch of the Treaty of Limerick. PHILOSOPHERS AND ACTRESSES; Or Scenes, Vivid and Picturesque, from the Hundred and One Dramas of Art and Passion. Now first Translated from the French of Arsene Houssaye. Illustrated with 36 Engravings, consisting of authentic Portraits of Madame de Maintenon, Ninon de L’Enclos, Scarrco, Louis the Fourteenth, Voltaire, and other celebrities. TALES OF MYSTERY, IMAGINATION, AND HUMOUR, AND POEMS. Illustrated with 30 Engravings. By Edgar Allan Poe. The present is the first occasion of the repuhlication in this country of the above re- markable Tales, several of which have been translated into every European language. Vol. 11. of “ Tales of Mystery and Imagination” will be Ready in January. CLARKE, BEET’ )N & CO., 148 FLEET-STREET. GOLD, THE UNIVERSAL LOADSTAR. “ They consisted of three men and a boy, two of whom had dug before, but with indifferent success.” OUR TENT AT FOREST CREEK. “ The official was perusing his license, and was scarcely satisfied with the illegibility which obscured the date at which it had been issued.” THE NEWLY-ARRIVED. “ There were others more artful, who began at a distance, and came gradually round ’to their point with the sly fox-like ingenuity of a long-practised examining counsel.” “SHALL WE GO, OR SHALL WE NOT?” “They had come from Liverpool, and having been seized with the general infection, had deserted their ships to pay a visit to the diggings.” THE GOLD FINDER. CHAPTER I. My Departure—The Voyage—Our Passengers—Story of Francis Martin, and Reflections thereon. Since my return, you have frequently requested me to put upon paper, the adventures through which I passed in search of that gold which has enabled me to return from Australia and settle down independent for life. Circumstances, however, have hitherto prevented my undertaking such a task until now, when I at once commence it, stimulated by your good opinion, and the interest which, I doubt not, you will take in its progress; whilst you may faithfully rely on my veracity in all that I state regarding the wonderful region in which I had the fortune to he so brief a sojourner. You are aware that it was in the fall of 1851 I left this country. You know my previous condition —that of a fortuneless young man without a trade, and apparently in every way unsuited to encounter the proclaimed difficulties of either a “ life in the bush” or at the “ diggings,” but with an ample stock of spirits and a natural love of adventure, which, I believe, have been the inheritances of our family for several genera tions hack. My uncle gave me fifty pounds, saying, “ There, Myles, thou’rt of little use here, lad ; go to the ‘ diggings,’ and see if thou canst be of any there!” and with this unceremonious dismissal I took my departure. I was not long in finding a ship bound for Port Phillip, which I, at once, determined should be my destination, as, from all I had read and heard, the climate of that portion of Australia was preferable to any of the more northern latitudes. Accordingly, behold me already on board the Mary Ann, a steerage-passenger, with little money and less care, bidding adieu to “ Old England” without a tear, but not without a hope of once more putting my foot upon her soil and claiming her still as my native land. I could not help a sigh, however, as the last glimpse of her 1 n chalky cliffs faded from my sight. Why was this ? She had never been kind to me; but it is natural. One cannot leave his fatherland for the first time without something of the sort swelling his bosom; particu- larly when he is just entering upon a voyage of sixteen thousand miles, which, though it may bring him to the realisation of his El Dorado hopes, is something too vast to be undertaken without experiencing at the least a slight emotion. In a few days we were in the Bay of Biscay, rolling about, and pitch- ing up and down, in the most extraordinary manner imaginable. Most of my fellow-passengers were sick, and I must confess that I formed no exception to the general rule. Then it was that I began to wish myself ashore, or dead, or anywhere but where I was. Of all the illnesses in the world, I believe none of them can equal that of sea-sickness; at any rate, I can imagine nothing like it. It is even worse than the tobacco- sickness, which I have had, and which is a hundred times worse than the grog-sickness, which is bad enough. In a few days, however, I was well, as were most of our voyagers, when we began to get into spirits, to forget home, and to look forward to the “ good time coming/’ I shall not detain you with the particulars of the long and mono- tonous voyage which everyone who undertakes it must experience a voyage to Australia to be. Let it suffice, that we arrived at our port without the loss of any lives, although not without several incidents and events falling out, which may entertain you better by being rehearsed vivd voce at your own fireside, which I hope to have the pleasure of doing before the dawning of another spring. Meanwhile, I may remark, that one of these events was a sort of mutiny, which took its rise amongst the middle-class passengers, who were jealous of the superior accom- modations of the cabin-gentry, envied their privileges, and endeavoured to make things as uncomfortable as possible. This conduct, however, was suffered only for a few days, as the feeling of, mostly, the whole ship was with the cabin, and the consequence -was, that a threat of putting one or two in irons, on the part of the captain, had the effect of allaying the commotion, which had all but broken out into open violence. What- ever quarrels and disturbances there were on board, I observed, gene- rally, to arise amongst those who were of an active temperament, and who, really, did not know what to do with themselves for the purpose of diverting their minds from, perhaps, painfid retrospective reflections— for we had some queer characters on board —or from the ennui which their cooped-up condition naturally engendered. Disliking even them- selves, and consequently every being around them, I verily believe they could not help quarrelling or finding fault, being urged into it by the love of variety, and the excitement which usually follows it. This led me to felicitate myself upon the precaution I had taken, to supply myself with some interesting books, which were my constant companions throughout the voyage. These whiled away many an hour that would otherwise have been found tedious and wearisome, kept me always free from the squabbles with which I was daily surrounded, and really gave me a degree of consideration in the eyes of most of the passengers to which I am not aware that I could otherwise have laid the slightest claim. Besides this, it was the means of bringing me into actual companion- ship with several of the cabin-passengers, who, observing my habits of study and retirement, frequently invited me to the poop, where the long starry nights were delightfully passed in literary or political discussions, and occasional story-telling, in which one lady especially excelled. One of these evenings is particularly fixed on my memory, not only on account of its calmly-breathing beauty and splendour, but on account of a tale improvised by the above lady, and, in my opinion, worth preserving, not only for the kindly spirit which it breathes, but for the excellent moral which it conveys. Here it is, as she afterwards wrote it out for me by request. THE STOEY OF FEANCIS MAETIN. The last scene which I sketched in England (said she), was taken from a hill whence I surveyed the surrounding country, and beheld, stretching to an immeasurable distance, a landscape of beauty equal to any to be found in that beloved land, fertile as it is in such harmonious presentations to the artist’s eye. At the foot of the hill, a quiet violet stream glided through some rich fields of green meadow, losing itself at various angles as it crept round an elbow of land, or crouched beneath the spreading branches of the numerous clumps of trees which, here and there, studded the prospect. It slowly and gracefully winded down a vale bounded by verdant banks, until in the distance it diminished to the breadth of a bright blue thread which we sometimes see in a piece of embroidery, and which is now lost and now taken up again, to pursue its devious way through some other part of the sampler. A beautiful diversity of hill and dale rose and sank far as the line of the horizon, which seemed level with my own position, and where the towers of a feudal castle reared themselves against the azure sky, and appeared little bigger than a man’s hand, yet distinguishable in their more prominent features. How often does a capital of this kind crown the landscapes of the old country, and how naturally does it give the mind a retrospective impulse to those days round which the imagination is so apt to fling a halo of poetry, chivalry, and romance ! Well, it was a beautiful morning when I took my leave of the house of a friend with whom I had been staying for some time, and undertook to travel home alone, the distance being several miles. As the day ad- vanced, the sky began to wear a threatening aspect, till the clouds became of a heavy leaden hue, having their edges fringed with a bright red, and here and there, altogether, overspread with a dusky crimson which, with the wild murmuring of the wind, seemed to portend a thunder-storm. Towards the afternoon the sky grew darker and darker, and the wind rose louder and louder, as I proceeded on a long and solitary portion of the road, which was rendered still more dreary by some dark plantations with which it was skirted. When about in the midst of these woods, my ears were saluted with the notes of a musical voice, chaunting, in irregular strains, some snatches of song, with which I was so much delighted that I was induced to pause and listen. On directing my view to the locality whence the sounds issued, I beheld sitting under a tree, and leaning against its trunk, a young man whose dress, although it bore sufficient marks of decay, yet indicated its wearer to have been in the better walks of society. His face was pale, and wore a saddened expression; yet in its fine features it carried the impress of a once high intelligence, and in his full dark eye the spirit of poesy seemed to shine abroad, as his heart responded to the verses which he sang. He had so placed himself by my path, that I could not pass him without giving a salutation, but he kept himself so busy with a knife, shaping a piece of wood into some fantastic form which gave amusement to his fancy, that he appeared not to recognise me. I was interested in his appearance, and having no sense of fear at the time, I accosted him familiarly, and remarked that I thought a storm was approaching; when, ceasing his employment, and scanning my face with a bewildered look, he repeated the following lines— When the sea-bird leaves the shore, And inland seeks to fly, Then the seamen should implore For mercy from on high. “ Do you travel on foot, lady ?” he asked, as he again began to whittle the piece of wood; and when I answered in the affirmative, he paused for a few moments, bade me farewell, and, exclaiming, “ God speed thee —I am a poor fool, a-weary of my life 1” turned to dash into the wood. Then it was that I discovered in the wasted form before me Francis Martin, a young acquaintance of my earlier years! “ Hold!” I involuntarily exclaimed, as he fled from me. “ Hold, and lead me to a place of shelter.” He turned, and after a brief pause, replied— Each bird finds a shelter in bower and tree, But here there’s no shelter for mortals like thee and asked me to follow him to a cave in a wild rock ; deep in a glen where a clear brook rolled its song to which the speckled trout leapt, and where the lively linnet drank, and where he mourned and where he hoped to die. “ Will you come there, lady ?” he asked, with an earnest and gloomy stare. I know not why I was so courageous, but I did not hesitate to say that I would follow him; when he seemed startled, and looking in my countenance for a moment, appeared to enjoy an interval of half- lucidity ; but again relapsing into his usual state, he turned towards the tree where I first found him, and, amid the gathering rage of the elements, calmly recommenced cutting his piece of wood. It was not without deep and painful feelings of grief that I contemplated the squalid features and deranged condition of this youth, in the relics of whose general appearance and conduct his former superiority was still apparent. His poetical turn of fancy, his ready and correct delivery, his gentle demeanour, and the ease and courtesy which, even in his most careless sallies, governed his actions, spoke him to be still, in his fall, what he always was—the youth of culture and refinement. Oh who can help compassionating the lunatic ? and who can ridicule his follies or laugh at his freaks, without the dread of a like avenging afflic- tion? My bosom overflowed with pity for poor Martin, and in order to alleviate his sorrows, I offered him my purse ; but this he rejected, and sank into a moody silence, and would answer no more of my questions; I therefore left him to himself, sitting under the pitiless pelting of the storm, and hastened on my lonesome way. As I proceeded on my journey, I came to a cottar’s habitation, into which I entered, and found an aged woman sitting alone. From her I gathered the cause of the derangement of Francis, and it is soon told. He had been on the eve of wedlock with a Miss Helen Evans, a neigh- bour’s daughter, who was suddenly taken off by a violent inflammatory attack. “ This circumstance,” continued the old woman, “so affected Francis, that he sank into despondency, and under the fatal delusion of drinking strong drink to drown his sorrow, he destroyed his reason; but,” she added, “he is harmless, and mostly wanders alone in the woods, singing verses of his own making—for he was very clever— and raving of Helen, who, for my part, I think he will now soon fol- low to the grave.” So spake the old woman, and, in this instance, she thought truly; for in a few weeks more, I heard that the tombstone of the Martins bore, under the names of all the rest of the family, that of Francis. About the love of this tale, I cared nothing beyond the entertainment which it contributed towards the story; but the moral conveyed in it, I determined to take to myself. I had seen enough, as you know, of the evils arising from the social indulgences of good-fellowship in English life. I had seen many of my companions fall victims to the bite of the cobra di capello, or hooded snake of Great Britain; I had nearly been numbered amongst them; and as I was now about to visit a foreign shore as an adventurer amongst the adventurous of all nations, it was the more necessary that I should doubly guard myself against those indul- gences which, whilst they seem to fascinate, certainly destroy, and re- place the mirth they excite only with sorrow, and the strength they seem to inspire with bodily weakness and mental imbecility. ( 7 V CHAPTER 11. Our Arrival—Description of Melbourne—The Gold Excitement —"Rumours from the Diggings—Anecdotes—The Present State of Society and Prices Current of Labour, &c., in Victoria. When I arrived at Melbourne the sun was in the zenith of his sum- mer glory and the verdure of the earth was at its height. Never was I struck with the natural beauty of a country so forcibly before. Whether this arose from the length of time which had intervened since my eyes had been greeted with the green carpet of nature, or from the really existing loveliness of the country I cannot tell ; but I well remember the definite feeling of overwhelming beauty with which my emotions were entranced on my first sight of this glorious land of promise. Melbourne is not a large town; perhaps standing upon about a square mile of ground, and containing from fifteen to twenty thousand inhabi- tants. It is situate at the head of the Bay of Port Phillip, near the mouth of the river Yarra-yarra—a most extraordinary name, which I heard the Scotch and the North of Ireland-men pronounce as they would imitate the snarling of a dog. The shipping does not lie here, but at the dis- tance of six miles below the town, which can only be arrived at by smaller craft, as the river is not deep enough to float large vessels. The site and appearance of Melbourne are as fine as can well be imagined. It lies along the right bank of the Yarra, occupying one side of the valley through which it flows. It is built chiefly of brick, and consists of a series of wide streets running parallel to the course of the river. It contains many handsome public buildings and lines of shops, which, although they may not rival the first class of our metropolitan retail repositories of arts and manufactures, still may confidently be assigned a place beside the second. The town boasts of no less than four newspapers, one of which is a daily, and it sends its steamers in all directions, as it receives in return those from other parts of the Australian continent. Nothing could exceed the excitement which this little town presented on our arrival. The living scene was full of picturesque effects. The poetic fictions of Scott and the actual embellishments of Byron were vivified before us, with this difference, that in place of the antique mailed costume of the one, and the gaudy-coloured exuberance of the other, we had the more sombre hues of woollen broad-cloth, flannel, fustian, and corduroy. But there was something more than this. There was the mixture of all nations—from the acute Yankee and Californian down to the lark-loving orbicular-faced Irishman. Everyone was bustling about, getting his things together to be off to the “ Diggings,” lest all the gold would be gathered before his arrival, I, among the rest, was not idle, for there were news arriving every hour of the immense find- ings which some fortunate fellows were happy enough to light upon without much trouble. We heard little of the failures of any; conse- quently success was, in some measure, assured in one’s own mind before he had even supplied himself with his pick to dig the ground. On board the ship, I had formed an acquaintance with two young men who, like myself, had been of little use in their own country, and who, therefore, had resolved to try their luck at the Australian diggings. They were resolute and good-humoured, and belonged to the middle classes, consequently were possessed of such feelings and manners as I could associate with without experiencing any repugnance. With these I united, and we agreed to stick by each other, and wherever we should pitch our tent the spot was to be with the sanction of all, and whatever proceeds came from our labours were to be equally shared. We soon understood one another; and as everyone of us was actuated by similar motives and inclined to be mutually accommodating, there arose not a single word of difference amongst us all the time we were together. In Melbourne we remained a couple of nights and one day, not only to enjoy the luxury of a bed ashore, but to glean all the information we could as to the best route to take, for there were more places than one popular at the time for gold-hunting. Besides, we had to supply our- selves with several articles absolutely necessary for the singular occupa- tion upon which we were about to enter. The accounts, however, were so various and conflicting, that it was the next thing to an impossibility to come to any determinate conclusion as to what might prove the best route. Some spoke highly of Geelong, and the Ballarat diggings ; others of those of Mount Alexander, which ultimately was the place of our destination. In reference to the Ballarat diggings, however, the reports were extraordinary; but we heard that many of the gold-hunters there were packing up, and leaving for Mount Alexander, This did not arise from any exhaustion at Ballarat, but from the gold being easier attain- able at Mount Alexander, and the yield being much greater in proportion to the labour employed. The daily rumours that were circulated were so astonishing, as to produce a species of bewildering excitement in the mind. One man got eighty pounds worth of gold in a single hour. The produce in one week, from Mount Alexander, was twenty-three thousand seven hundred and fifty ounces; whilst from Ballarat, in the same time, the returns were only two thousand two hundred and twenty-four ounces —a vast difference, greatly arising, however, from the number of miners having left the latter for the former, which, of course, was being worked in a proportionately greater degree. No wonder at the excite- ment which everywhere prevailed; no wonder that the small shop-keeper was shutting up, and abandoning his counter; no wonder that seamen were running away from their ships, printers from their type, doctors from their drugs, and lawyers from their piles of labelled documents! In fact, everything had assumed a revolutionary character. The very human countenance had become changed, from the golden dreams which, day and night, were continually haunting the imaginations of the victims of the prevailing mania; and however slightly I had hitherto partaken of the intoxication, I now felt my cupidity whetted to such a degree, that I desired as much as anyone to put a pick in the ground, and to get a sight of the “ nugget” I could call my own. This state of things, how- ever, was, in my opinion, anything but favourable to the general happi- ness of the colonists. The prices of every sort of labour were doubled by it, and in some instances quadrupled. Anecdotes innumerable might be told of the singular transpositions that had taken place in the circum- stances of men. One gentleman, a large sheep-owner, went to a party of sheep-shearers who were at the diggings, and asked them to engage to clip his flocks. He was wealthy, and prepared to offer high wages— indeed, whatever amount was asked, for the purpose of achieving his end. Arrived at the spot —he found the very men he wanted lying resting themselves around their fire, and informed them, with some degree of conscious importance, of the errand on which he had come. The men looked at him, then consulted aside with each other, and deputed one of their number to treat with him. “Well,” says he, “we will go with you, but we must have a written agreement,” at the same time producing the necessary materials for that purpose. “ What, then, are the wages you demand ? ” asked the sheepowner. “ Why, not much," said the other, “ Only all the wool! ’’and to no other terms would they agree. The other turned his horse and was going off in disgust, when they called him back. He gladly returned, in the expectation that some more reasonable terms would be made ; but it was only to be told that they wanted a cook, and if he would take the place they would give him fifteen shillings a-day. Another anecdote, equally illustrative of the social changes which had taken place, is found in the fact of a man familiarly placing him- self at the dinner-table of a steamer, and asking the gentleman on his left to take wine with him, at the same time remarking, “ A few days ago I had the honour of being your groom; but things are altered now, and as you are at the head of the table, I will support you.” I shall leave it to your imagination to picture to itself the state of society in which such transitions as the above are daily occurring, and in which even female servants are hardly to be found willing to under- take the domestic duties of a family. All the aristocratic feelings and associations of the old country are at once annihilated. Plebeianism of the rankest, and, in many instances, of the lowest kind, at present dwells in Australia; and as riches are now’ becoming the test of a man’s position, it is vain to have any pretensions whatever unless you are supported by that powerful auxiliary. It is not what you were, but what you are that is the criterion—as, indeed, it ought to be—by which you are judged; and although your father might have been my Lord of England-all- over, it goes for nothing in this equalising colony of gold and beef and mutton. Work is the word; and if you cannot do this, you are of no use there. Let him, therefore, who has a desire to settle in this country, ponder well his capabilities in this respect, before he voyages thither, without he be possessed of such means as will enable him to employ others; for if he cannot work himself, he must as infallibly sink in the social scale there, as he will everywhere else where physical activity and industry are made the highest standards of a man’s abilities for getting on in the world. Since lam upon this subject, let me close this chapter by informing you, whose love of practical intel- ligence renders you so instructive a companion, of what is, at the present time, the prices current of labour in Victoria. The paper from which I quote is published by Mr. Fitchett, of the Registry Office, in Victoria; therefore may be relied upon as bona fide, since that gentleman is pre- pared to engage servants at the sums he has set down:— Married couples, as house-servants for country-hotels, &c., can have engagements at £65 to £7O per annum, with rations; shepherds, £3B; hutkeepers, £3O; bullock-drivers, £5O, or by the week £1 10s., and on the roads from £3 to £4; farm-servants, £5O per annum, and £1 10s. by the week; bush-carpenters, £2 per week; cooks for inns, £1 10s. to £2 per week; general servants, £4O per annum—all including rations. Maid-servants can have engagements at £24 to £3O, housemaids at £23, nursemaids £lB, cooks and laundresses £24, includ- ing rations. This was the state of the labour-market after the arrival of several emigrant vessels; and though it may experience a temporary decline in the course of the next twelvemonth, prices are expected to “ hold, and a rise is even expected at no distant period. The prices of provisions go “up and down” like a barometer. On the 11th of August, flour sold at Forest Creek at £l2 per bag; sugar at Is, 6d. per lb.; salt was 25.; tea, 45.; cheese, 3s. 6d.; ham and salt pork, 45.; beef, B d. per lb.; biscuits, 2s. 6 d. per lb. About the same time, the quotations in the Melbourne market were—flour (at the mills, that is to say, minus carriage), £25; wheat, Bs.; and oats, 7 s. 6d. Good cattle sold at 12s. per cwt.; sheep, 11s. The price of butchers’ meat was rising generally, but flour and bread were not expected to rise higher, since the markets were more freely supplied. Such were the prices current at Melbourne and at the mines. A private source furnishes us with the following:— «< Flour, £2O per sack of 200 lb.; oats, £2 ss. per bushel; bran, £2 per bushel; potatoes, Is. 6 d. per lb.; onions, the same; tea, Bs. Bd. per lb.; sugar, Is. Qd. ; bread, 3s, o d. the 2 lb. loaf; ham, 3s. 6 d. per lb.; mut- ton, that was 2s..the quarter, now ss. 6 d. ; beef, 6dL to 7 d. per lb.; very indifferent brandy, £1 per bottle; and for a pair of riding-boots £lO was paid. At Melbourne the rent of a middling dwelling-house is £2OO. per annum; firewood, £3 10s. to £1 per load; and everything else in proportion.” CHAPTER 111. My Companions—How equipped—Our Start—The Irishwoman and her Husband—The Eev. D. Mackenzie’s Description of Australia—Bushrangers and their present doings—Our first Encampment and Tea in the Bush. Allow me to introduce to you Thomas Rinks and John Brown, the two young men with whom I associated in my expedition to the diggings. They are both tall, athletic men, with hearts thoroughly English, being possessed of all the generous native courage of their country, with the additional advantage of having heads a little more than ordinarily cool and sagacious. To you a description of my own character would be superfluous, and those who honour these adventures with a perusal will glean enough from their pages to be able to form an opinion of what I am. The bedding which we had taken with us from England, and used on ship-board, was quite suitable for the diggings; and the sea-boots which I had the precaution to take, I found were worth no less than £6 on my arrival. My companions were, also, each supplied with a pair of these indispensable articles, which, with a couple of blue woollen shirts, half- a-dozen pairs of worsted half-hose, a pair of fustian trousers, two pairs of canvass ditto, and a jacket and waistcoat of beaverteen, constituted nearly all that was necessary to form the working portion of my equip- ment. My head was covered with a black felt sombrero, which was occa- sionally exchanged for a Scotch cap, and I had a pilot coat, but very sel- dom wore it. So far as the mere necessaries of dress are concerned, my companions were similarly habited, but we had in addition to this de- partment of our establishment, things at any rate equal, if not more essen- tial, than aught else that I have mentioned. These were pistols; deadly- revolving six-barrelled weapons, and consequently capable of fearful destruction. They were belted by our sides, and as it seemed a part of the native manners to let the beard grow in order to look as ugly and terrific as possible, our chins exhibited an amount of clothing that might have frightened a Russian bear, had we been destined to meet with such a hyperborean monster upon the sunny shores of Australia. The route which we had chalked out for ourselves extended over about seventy-live miles of ground, and .as neither our circumstances nor our inclinations were such as allowed ns to hire a dray-cart, we determined to load ourselves as lightly as possible, and walk the journey. Thousands had already done this, and many were daily com- ing and going over the same ground. There was no fear, then, of our losing our way, however thinly the region through which we were about to pass might be peopled. Early on the morning of the 10th of January w T e made our start, each carrying a light mattress and a blanket, and dividing between us a pick-axe and spade, a kettle and a store of provisions. We had all determined to abandon the bottle, a determination which I am glad to say none of us had any cause to regret, as we felt ourselves in every way better calculated for the endurance of fatigue, whilst it preserved us from falling into brawls which were continually breaking out amongst the Bacchanalian votaries with which the diggings were infested. Water, tea, and coffee were the only beverages we used; the former as sparingly as possible, from the great heat of the summer months. You arc aware that, in comparison with England, Australia is designated a land of contrarieties. There, midsummer falls in January, and mid- winter in July, and everything is almost opposite. Thus, our longest day is the shortest in Australia, and the neck of the swan, which has always furnished a simile for a pure white bosom with our poets in England, is as black as coal at the antipodes. This contradiction of circumstances appears singular at first, for when you are talking of the month of January, from long habit you naturally Associate with it all that is cold, wet and dreary, notwithstanding that you feel yourself beneath a burning sun, and surrounded by the verdure of fields and the foliage of trees; fanned by grateful breezes, and canopied by a sky as calm, as blue, and as spotless as that of Spain or Italy. We had travelled but a few miles on our journey, when we came up with a party who were proceeding to the diggings on the banks of the Loddan river, about ninety-five miles north-west from Melbourne, con- sequently were going the whole of our way. They consisted of three men and a boy, two of Whom had dug before, but with only indifferent success. They had their cradle, their sieve, their blankets and bedding upon their backs, and were in high spirits. Before them was another party with a dray on their way to Mount Alexander. Two of these were taking their wives with them, who seemed to enjoy the trip amazingly, and were the very characters fitted for such an expedition. One of them was a high-spirited Irishwoman, who had been reared to •potato- digging in her own country, and she was going now to dig for gold. “ Digging!” says she, “by the powers, I’ve done nothing but dig all mi life in mi own contry, and the divil a hap’orth I ever made by it, but sore bones!” “ That’s true,” said Mike, who was her husband, and of the same stamp, but of the masculine gender. “ That’s true; and a bit o’ goold we never seed but in the hand of the landlord or the praist, Gad bless him." “ Bad luck to them; they don’ know how to kill a poor body fast enough in the ould contry. Ireland’s as good a contry as iver was blest with a dacent pisantry, but for the landlords and the parlimintin rogues that has been its curse this manny a day. I’m sure a bit o’ mate, unless it wur pork, never entered my mout from Sonday to Sonday ; and if a man gets fat on beef there, sure it’s only wi’ looking at the mate on the bones of the living bullock.” “ That’s true,” again said Mike, who seemed to have the happy knack of assenting to everything his wife said. “ That’s true. It is just them parlimintin rogues that have ruined my contry; and ever since the death of the great O’Connell there hasn’t been a word about Repale, or a row about liberty, or anything else for the binefit of Ireland. Oh, bless him ! I wish the mighty Dan had never died or wus back again !” “ How long have you been in this country ?" asked Binks, my com- panion. “ Five years, sur, come April next,” said the woman. “ Mike, there, and me, came from Cark in a great ship, and landed here with scarcely a pinny in our pockets, and now, thank Gad! we’re able to hire a dray with our neighbours, and to take a trip to the diggins as well as the rest. Och, sur,” she exclaimed, like a woman inspired, at the top of her voice, “ this is the contry for people to come to, that have got sinews in their badies! Your fine doesn’t do here. She’s of no use. The men won’t have her, nor the women either, and so she must work or starve, or do something worse. If she cannot get back to Doblin or Cark or London, or where ever she came from, the divil may help her, for nobody else will: but for a poor woman that’s able and willing to work, there’s no contry in the world equal to this. Is there, Mike ? ” “ No, indeed!” said Mike. “It bates Ireland itself, only the tatoes are not so good; but the beef and the mutton make up for that.” Leaving the conversation of these adventurers, in the last portion of which there was much truth, whose progress was too slow for us, we pursued our journey, more and more struck at every step with admira- tion at the beauty of the country, and the vast resources which it seemed to develope. It was now that I began to see, as well as to feel, the truth and force of the Reverend D. Mackenzie’s general description of Aus- tralia. To be sure, I had not explored the territory in all its illimitable solitude and almost boundless extent; but already its wonders began to dawn upon my mind, and with the aid of the map which I carried, I could easily imagine all that is said in the following eloquent pas- sage : —“ Picture to yourselves in the midst of the ocean, surrounded with precipitous rocks, and nearly opposite to England, on the globe, a vast forest, diversified with mountains and valleys; innumerable plains without a tree; rivers, some of them consisting only of a chain of ponds; others of them, after running for hundreds of miles through extensive tracts of fertile soil, rapidly disappearing in the midst of arid sand, while others of them roll their majestic streams for a thousand miles, until they mingle their waters with the ocean; here and there, like an oasis in the wilderness, a solitary patch of cleared land, with a hut rudely constructed of slabs and bark in the rear; a tribe of naked blacks, carrying their weapons of war, roaming across the distant plains; large tracts of open forest land, resembling a gentleman’s domain in England, but occupied only by the kangaroo and the emu, which seem to claim and enjoy hereditary possession; lofty ranges of hills, covered with the most beautiful verdure to their very summits; extensive lagoons, darkened with legions of wild ducks and teal, the property of any man who may choose to shoot them; innumerable birds of the most beautiful plumage, chirping in every branch around you; flowers of every hue and shade of colour, strewing your path wherever you go ; above you an Italian sky, without a cloud or speck, and the air you inhale pure and balmy; a fearful suspense pervading the forest around you, and vividly impressing upon your mind the idea of solitude and desolation —this is Australia As we proceeded on our journey we had as yet encountered neither an emu nor a kangaroo, but we had encountered another kind of biped more formidable than either. This was a couple of grim, large under-jawed, ferocious-looking villains, the expression of whose countenances was enough to have condemned them in any court to which they might be taken merely on suspicion. They were standing against a gum-tree with their double-barrelled rifles, with which, no doubt, they intended, the first op- portunity, to make a hole in the living clay of some successful digger who might be returning to deposit his findings in Melbourne. We only gave them the time of the day, and passed on. They looked hard at us; but they saw that we were well armed, and no doubt surmised that our gold was not very plenty, as we were going the contrary way to that which we would have taken to make a deposit. This kind of character has been gradually increasing in the country, and murders and robberies are becoming frightfully frequent. It is now dangerous to travel but in largo numbers. Gangs of mounted busb-rangors, masked, and with pistols, are infesting all the roads, stopping the travellers, and even the gold transports, unless they are escorted by an efficient force. Recently, a party of three diggers, on their way to Melbourne, were attacked by four armed men; shots were exchanged, and eventually the diggers took to flight. Two arrived at Melbourne, but the third was missing, and fears were entertained of his having fallen in the affray. Two men from Geelong were also attacked by three mounted robbers, who took all their gold-dust, money, and fire-arms, and bound them to trees. This happened in the broad light of day. Here the poor fellows were fixed, like some of those forlorn captives over whose imaginary fates we wei’e wont to shed tears in the pages of romance, and burst forth in a transport of laudatory joy on their being rescued from their perilous situation, by the accidental appearance of some valorous steel-clad knight. In vain, however, would such romantic succour be looked for in this country; but some good Samaritan, in homely fustian or corduroy, might come to the rescue, and, in a plain way, effect all that used to be done by the mailed hand of the errant ages of chivalry. Evening now began to fling her shadows around us, and we resolved on pitching our tent on the first eligible spot at which we arrived. We had taken it easily to-day. Indeed, we were not able to walk either very fast or very far, from having been so long without pedestrian exercise on board the ship. We had managed, however, to get over twenty-five miles when we came to a place suitable to encamp. It was a sweet spot, shaded by trees, yet sufficiently open to admit of a view similar to what you get in this country in a gentleman’s park. Long sweeps of rich verdure, here and there studded with clumps of trees; flowers of every hue springing up spontaneously through the velvety grass; birds of the rarest plumage hopping about from branch to branch; gentle noises amongst the foliage of the woods, and a clear stream run- ning hard by, gave us the first taste of an evening in the country amidst the wilds of Australia. There was a luxury of feeling on look- ing at such a spot, weary though I was, which no pen can describe, whilst I felt myself so perfectly independent of, and unshackled by, the cares of this life, that I could have taken farewell for ever of the world, resigned myself to the groves, and relinquished the pursuit of gold, and the toils of ambition, without either a thought or a sigh. We now gathered four branches about five or six feet long, and sticking them in the ground, and tying them firmly together at the top, covered them with the largest of our blankets, and formed a very good tent. Next we unrolled our mattresses, and laying two of them on the ground, and the other over our feet, had both a hut and a bed to sleep in, as comfortable as we could wish in such a place. As we yet had a long evening to pass, a fire was kindled before our tent, and the kettle was got under weigh. We had plenty of bread and mutton-chops, which we cooked before the fire upon a wooden apparatus of our own invention, and admirably adapted for the purpose. It con- sisted simply of two short forked pieces of wood, stuck at a small space from each other, and joined by another piece at the top. To this cross- piece the chops were tied, so as to hang at a proper distance from the fire. Beneath these a clean-washed stone was placed, upon which we laid our bread, which absorbed the dripping, and altogether gave us a very savoury meal. I can assure you it was highly relished—indeed, so highly that I do not remember of ever enjoying the most sumptuous dinner with half so much gusto as I did this repast in the wilds of Australia. After we were all satisfied, and night had fairly fallen upon us, we made up a larger fire, crept into our tent, and slept soundly till the following morning. CHAPTER IV. The Atmosphere of Australia—Morning—The Bush—Hoads —Mosquitoes and Sand- flies—Travellers of all nations—The Irish Schoolmaster and the Scotchman —Sailors and the Desertion of their Ships—Another Night in the Bush. A full hour before the cock had saluted the morn, we had shaken off the drowsy slumbers of the night, and were again busy with the kettle and preparing another substantial meal with which to begin the day. How fresh did we all feel I None of us had taken the slightest cold, and our lungs were as clear as the ambient atmosphere with which we were surrounded. It is a peculiarity of the climate of Australia to be particularly favourable to health, and, I may add, to longevity. Its capacity to absorb the humidity of the air is the cause of this. You breathe in a heavenly element as compared with that which circulates in England. Delightfully clear, light and dry, you respire with a free- dom which astonishes yourself and makes you wonder at what can be the unseen cause of your natural good spirits and cheerfulness. For weeks together, shepherds and bullock-drivers throw themselves upon the ground and sleep uncovered beneath the ethereal canopy, without being subjected to the slightest inconvenience; and from the experience of this night, and many subsequent nights, I had no reason to find fault with the climate of Australia. We had not yet finished our breakfast, when the sky became tinged with a slight hue of gold, and gradually deepened to an orange, which imperceptibly became streaked with long, finely-pencilled lines of rich and gorgeous crimson. Far up the vast concave, the beams of the sun now began to dart, until the whole canopy of heaven was illumined with his glory, whilst the diaphanous sheet of blue, that rolled itself out over our heads, was unspotted by a single cloud. The transparent leaves of the trees reflected their sunny tints in all directions; and the flower- enamelled earth disclosed its beauties, as the chirping of birds gave animation to a scene with which the senses of man can never be regaled but in those countries which the revolutionising arts of civilisation have still left unimpaired, and as they came from the hand of the Creator. Having finished our breakfast, we dismantled our tent, packed up, and once more resumed our journey. We were now fairly without the limits of urban life. We were, in fact, in the bush; and whatever might be the kind of calling pursued in it, us yet wo certainly had witnessed none of its hardships. The pursuit and contemplation of large flocks, daily increasing, in a beautiful country, one would think a sufficient recompense for the resignation of any plea- sures which a town life could afford. If, in the former, there be hard labour, it is exactly of that sort which strengthens the body and energises the mind; whilst the ease and artificiality of the latter, in too many instances, reduce the whole man, physically, morally, and mentally, to a degree of lady-like refinement at variance with what ought to be the true development of his nature. This, at least, is my opinion, in which I have been greatly confirmed by what “ the diggings,” and the slight expei ience which I had of “the bush,” unfolded to my eyes. There the men who have passed the first third of their lives in towns and cities acquire a new character. 1 hey become such as you would imagine the borderers of England and Scotland to have been, in the fifteenth century; all Douglasses and Percys, in point of spirit, but, of course, modified by the age and the situation, which seems to drive their bodies into action, in- dependently of their own powers of volition. If they had not strength before they adopted their new mode of life, they acquire it astonishingly soon, and ply the pick with wonderful rapidity; whilst in “ the bush ” they often become the very best stock-men and shepherds. The attractions of the woods are inconceivable to one whose misfortune it has been to have been, all his life, trained within the limits of a dirty street, bounded on the north by— brick; on the south by —brick; on the east by brick; and on the west by— brick! Let him, however, in his imagi- nation, picture thousands of cattle ranging abroad in an illimitable park- like wilderness of verdure and shadowy foliage; let him imagine him- self hying in the open air for several months together, and often throw- ing himself upon the beautiful grass and sleeping without injury; let him diversify this life with fishing, and hunting, and reading, and the thousand charms with which these are associated in every mind; let him now feast upon the products of his own healthy sport—to-day gorman- dising on a turkey, and to-morrow on a teal; now on a perch, and now on a piece of the Murray cod, and all obtained without fear of being subjected to the penalties of the game-laws. Let him imagine all this, and he will, if town-life has'left any spirit in his body, infallibly come to the conclusion, that an Australian bushmau pursues a career, as fai- ns out-of-door sport is concerned, which no English nobleman can enjoy within the compass of his widest domains. Even clergyman Mackenzie confirms this opinion; for he says that “clerks who have rambled into ‘the bush’ on a leave of absence from public offices— youngsters from school who, during the holidays, have visited their fathers’stations— shopkeepers, lawyers, soldiers and sailors, who have made an excursion thence to gratify a feeling of curiosity—have found our field-sports too strong an allurement to be resisted, and accordingly have either remained in the bush, or soon afterwards returned to its healthy exercises and enjoyments.” You must not, however, imagine that our journey through this region was altogether pleasant, and quite unattended with any drawbacks. No, no; there were some of these which it may be as well to mention, in order that your idea of the country may be more complete than I have, as yet, been able to make it. In the first place, the road was scarcely worthy of the name, being nothing more than a track partly worn, and partly traced through the forests, and knee-deep with dust, arising from the immense deal of travelling which had recently passed over it. This dust, reflecting the rays of the sun, has a painful effect upon the eyes, which smart with it, and very often become diseased. In fact, ophthalmia, arising from this cause and the hot winds which occasionally prevail, is one of the prevalent diseases of the country. It is also brought on by exposing the head unprotected to the rays of the sun; and if the smitten should be given to strong potations, total blind- ness is frequently the result. I witnessed many instances of this, all of which had a tendency to confirm me still stronger in the resolution I had formed to avoid, on all occasions, the putting of spirituous liquors to my lips. Another of our drawbacks was found in the multitudinous clouds of mosquitoes and sand-flies. These little, sharp, buzzing gnats were a source of great annoyance and discomfort. They seemed, also, to have a particular relish for the blood of a new-comer. They would make us believe that they instinctively knew that we were not yet acclimated, and, as if we were a mine of wealth, rushed upon us as the diggers did to the new gold-fields in which the greatest treasures were to be found. Our foreheads, our faces, and the backs of our ears, were both blistered and bleeding by them; and although we had tied our heads up with our handkerchiefs, as if we had been all ill with the toothache, still these aerial bushrangers would get in upon us, and plunder us of our very blood, in spite of all efforts to evade them. The best and the readiest protection we could contrive, was carrying small branches of trees, which we kept waving around us, and thus, as much as possible, keeping them off. With the exception of these, we had no other cause of complaint, saving the scarcity of water, which, from the heat of the sun and the long want of rain, had in many instances deserted its channels. Sitting at your own fireside in the middle of January, toasting your toes, and yawning over the previous night’s debate in the House of Com- mons, you can hardly conceive the stir and bustle which were animating the eighty miles of road between Melbourne and Mount Alexander. It was a trip to the Epsom on the “ Darby Day,” without the flaunting turna- out which distinguish the fly-away sporting “ coves ” of the land of Cock- aigne. Hundreds of drays and carts were tearing and toiling through the deeply-rutted track; horses and bullocks smoking and sweltering beneath a broiling sun; drivers shouting and cracking their whips to the loudness of pistol-reports, tradesmen of every kind and degree; women of every size and age between twenty and forty-five; clerks, shopmen, doctors, lawyers, shepherds, and sailors from all countries; German and Swiss vine-growers, broken-down army-lieutenants and ruined gentlemen’s sons of the old country, might all have been found upon that road wending to Forest Creek, Mount Alexander or Bendigo, to seek for “ the root of all evil.” All except the women were armed with weapons of some kind or other, from the Irish shililah up to the six- barrelled revolving pistol. Verily, I believe, there never was seen, in any part of the world before, such a heterogeneous stream of human prodigality, pouring itself along a single line of road, with such golden prospects in view. Every face was radiant with hope and every one was sure of his fortune. No doubt many of them would do well, and, perhaps, for the first time in their lives, find that Luck, at last, had knocked at their door, after being buffeted about the world without ever having had the chance of getting a footing in it. Amongst such a wide variety of character, we were continually com- ing in contact with some singular piece of human eccentricity who could not help disclosing his peculiarities even amidst a crowd. Many of these were the offspring of the teeming soil of Ireland, which seems to throw off its population with the same degree of prolific spontaniety that it shoots forth the riches of its vegetation. “ By the burning sun that’s over mi head,” said a cripple schoolmaster, dressed in what he called a long body-coat, the tails of which he had pinned up a foot to keep them out of the dust, “ there will need to be plinty of gould at the Creek o’ the Farest, to give us all our fortunes, for sure there’s plinty of us afther it.” “If tales be true,” said a Scotchman, after a pause, “ there is mair there than we’ll carry awa’.” “ By the love of life that’s in my bones,” returned Paddy, “I’ll carry away as much as I can, for I’m sure mi sight has never been hurt with lookin’ on gould, without it was through the window of a jeweller’s shap where I couldn’t git at it.” “Na, there’s no muckle o’ that i’ the land that ye come frae,” returned the Scotchman with dry solemnity, Paddy took a side-glance at him to see if he could discover whether the remark was meant as a reflection upon his country, and, coming to the conclusion that it was, immediately retorted by saying— ■ “ Sure if there isn’t much in Ireland, there is none at all in Scotland; for all the time I was in it I never saw anything in the shape o’ money but whites and browns ’’ (silver and copper). “ Aye, freend,” replied the other with a quiet sardonic smile, “ and hoo lang was ye in it ?’’ “ By the life o’ me, it was between two and tree years.” “ Aye, mun, and what pairts o’ the country, may I ask, was ye in ?” “ Oh, all the parts that’s of it, nort and sout, and east and west.” “Aye, weel, I’m no’ surprised at your seein’ nae goold, for your occupation must ha'e been that o’ a beggar; and naebody in Scotland or onywhar else gi’es goold tae beggars.” “ Sur, I never was a beggar in mi life, although I’ve seen many Scatch beggars, and helped them, too; and by the life that’s in mi body, if I were not a cripple and a schoolmaster, well known for mi respectability, I would make you ate the words y6u have spoken, big as ye are, ye long raw-boned scamp, you 1” This tirade provoked the mirth of all around, and seemed to move everybody but he who was the object of it. That individual stood like a tower, and only smiled upon the vituperative wrath of the Irishman, who shortly afterwards allowed himself to drop into the rear, and we never saw him more. As we, by this time, arrived at a house of re- freshment, called the Bush Inn, we entered it amidst a throng of adventurers, got some hot water, regaled ourselves with a cup of tea and some more of the substantialities of life, and again resumed our journey. Coming forth from the inn we saw a couple of sailors sitting and lying under the shade of a gum-tree, with a pot of water boiling on a few embers between them, and evidently in a state of deep dejection. They Were way-worn, weary, and hungry; and the idea which they suggested to my imagination was that of want and depression struggling against feel- ings of pride and independence. I communicated my sentiments to my friends, when Binks at once accosted them, and found that they had come from Liverpool, and, having been seized with the general infection, had deserted their ship to pay a visit to the diggings. They were now deliberating what it was best for them to do; whether they should return and apologise to their captain, or follow out their first intentions. They, had no clothes but what they stood in; and their last shilling they had squandered in grog before they left Melbourne. They had travelled until their feet were masses of blisters and sores; and they had forty miles further to proceed before they came to Forest Creek. Their case was somewhat hard, and, without presuming to offer any advice, we subscribed two shillings each out of our own limited funds, which they received with a profusion of thanks and a promise to repay in full out of the first gold they turned up. It would have delighted you to have seen the new life which this trifle infused into them. In a moment they were on their legs, notwithstanding the torture of their feet, and, drawing themselves into the inn, we bade them good bye, not caring whether we ever saw them again, but hoping that they might not be disappointed in realising the dreams which had tempted them from the path of honourable duty in abandoning their vessel in a strange country. This ship-desertion, however, on the part of whole crews, was likely to be frightful in its consequences to the interests of the colony, and by the latest accounts I find it has not been checked. The following letters, which appeared in a recent number of the Times, give an estimate of the number of vessels, unmanned, lying in Port Philip, and show that even £7 a month, and the liberation from im- prisonment, will not tempt seamen to enter vessels and relinquish their imaginary prospects at the Diggings. THE DESERTION OF SHIPS IN AUSTRALIAN PORTS. TO THE EDITOR OF “THE TIMES.” Sir,— Believing that the state of things which the subjoined extract pourtrays is of national importance, I venture upon transmitting it to you. Since the date of the sailing from England of the ship alluded to in the letter—say in February last—l believe that I shall bo much within the mark if I say that two hundred ships, of a burden of 150,000 tons, manned by five thousand able seamen, have followed her; that fifty of those ships were lying by her under similar circumstances; and the probability is, each successive ship, as she arrives out, will find herself in the same position namely, at anchor, with her master, and perhaps mate on board; otherwise deserted, and without a hope of removal. This is bad enough for the owners of these ships; but what must be the effect on the country generally ? I may say what it is, for at this moment the difficulty of finding men at this port for ships upon American voyages is sensibly felt, and presently there will bo such a difficulty in finding men for the Royal Navy as may be more alarming than is yet thought of. Surely the relief of these ships ought to be, under the circumstances, as much the object of the Government as if they were blockaded by a foreign foe; and the colonies themselves ought, if they could see their real interest, to co-operate to the utmost, and get them away at all hazards, for assuredly, if even there remained tonnage for the purpose, no ship-owner will peril his property in that direction until he sees a better chance of seeing it back again. I am, Sir, yours obediently, The Unfortunate Owner. Liverpool, Nov. 24, 1852. “ Melbourne, August 29, 1852. “ Sir,-—lt is with feelings of deep regret that I have again to address you from tins place, and am also sorry to add that the chances of getting away are as bad as ever. « The bay is full of ships of a high class, and immediately they arrive the crews refuse duty, and in most instances leave the ship with impunity in the high day. At present there is no possible protection for the merchant-ship; all the gaols are full, and the authorities, considering desertion and refusal of duty on the part of the sailors no very heinous crime, will now scarcely trouble themselves in those cases. «I yesterday went to the sheriff of Melbourne, and asked him whether he would allow me to go to the gaol to endeavour to get a crew from among the prisoners. He readily granted it, and I went and was introduced to forty or fifty seamen. I offered £7 per month for the round from here to England vid India, or £35 each for the run to any port in India; but I could not get one of them. They all said they had got into a good country and did not want to leave it, and would rather serve their term of imprisonment out than go aboard ship; in fact, they are intent only on the diggings. Although these men are sentenced to imprisonment with hard labour, they give them nothing whatever to do, and feed them well, so that, under the present circumstances, it is actually an inducement for them to run. « The only plan which I can see to get the ships away would bo for a couple of frigates to come here and man the ships with a portion of their crows, and fill up their places with the sailors who refuse duty in the merchantmen. A small man of war would be of little or no use here.” We now took it easy, for it was yet morning, and we found ourselves bo fresh that we could easily accomplish thirty miles of our journey this day. Accordingly, we proceeded at a steady three-miles-an-hour pace, now entering into conversation with one and now with another, just as the humour took us, till the shades of evening once more gathered around us, and brought the return of a similar scene to that which we have described in the preceding chapter. CHAPTER V. The Journey continued—The Zoology of Australia —Birds—Quadrupeds—Fish—Rep- tiles—lnsects —The Woods, Vegetables, Fruits and Flowers of Australia —Reflections. As we have again slept soundly, and are still in the woods, I shall devote this chapter to a more particular description of the zoological and vegetable productions which the teeming soil of this wonderful country offers to the consideration of the intelligent traveller, as he pur- sues his peregrinations amidst the diversified scenery which, in all direc- tions, expands to his view. Before doing this, however, I must turn a little aside from my purpose, to show you three fearless fellows, whose success had enabled them to purchase horses to carry them from Forest Creek to Melbourne, to make a deposit of their gold. They came along the road like so many evil spirits, enveloped in clouds of dust, which the fury of their speed threw around them with the force of a whirl- wind. They flew over the ground as fast as their beasts could carry them; and if they did not break their necks before they arrived at the Bush Inn, the chances are that a large supply of grog there would enable them to do this, or something equally foolish, before they had proceeded much further on their journey. Now to our purpose. The zoological features of Australia are, in some measure, peculiar, and so far as the feathered tribes arc concerned, bearing a resemblance to the characteristics which mark the aerial denizens of the southern continent of America. So far as my own experience goes, I must pro- nounce them in general to be destitute of the powers of song. To make amends for this, however, they are attired in the most varied and gorgeous plumage imaginable. Amongst these, perhaps, the most fan- ciful are the cockatoos, which belong to the psittacida, or parrot family, whose vast assemblages furnish occasional sport to the aboriginal savage in the depth of the woods. The mode pursued in capturing or killing these is singular, and merits a description. The native is provided with a boomerang, a destructive instrument, as curious in its form as it is extraordinary in its action. It consists of a hard piece of curved wood, of about thirty or forty inches long, and pointed at both ends. It is about three inches broad, having a concave part from a quarter to half-an-inch thick, and a convex edge quite sharp. When thrown by a native, it skims through the air about three feet from the ground to the extent of forty or fifty yards, then suddenly takes a direction upwards to the height of a hundred and fifty feet, describing a curve, and finally falling, if he likes, at his feet. Conceive yourself in the depths of the bush, and in the vicinity of one of its large lagoons, spreading its placid bosom to the rays of the sun, and reflecting the translucent cerulean sky, of which it would seem to have formed a part. Behold it encircled with tall and stately trees, crowned with leaves at their summits, but bare for a considerable length up their stems. Amidst these, listen to the screams of the hundreds of cockatoos that are arranging their feathers amongst their shades, and rejoicing in the fancied security with which they are surrounded. See the wily native doffing his cloak, and stealing from tree to tree, and from bush to bush, with that light and elastic step which denotes him the man of the woods. Some of the cockatoos descry him, and are scared at his ap- proach ; still he advances upon them closer and closer. They gather themselves together as if conscious of some danger. They fill the branches of the trees by the time that their foe has reached the water’s edge. Now he raises his hand, the birds spring screaming into the air, away flies the boomerang for twenty or thirty yards along the surface of the lake, then, sweeping upwards, whirls amongst the flock in a manner so eccentric that two or three of its victims fall wounded to the ground. In vain have they tried to avoid it; its wild, irregular, and uncertain motions have defied escape, and the devoted cockatoos are now in the hands of their destroyer. The emu is, of all the feathered tribes of Australia, perhaps the most remarkable; it is also an object of sport to the aboriginal native as well as to the settler. It nearly equals the ostrich in bulk, and is allied to the cassowary. It is timid and shy in its habits, trusting for its safety to the great speed with which it runs, rather than to the strength it possesses. If hard pressed, however, it can wound severely with its legs. It is sometimes eaten, but the flesh is coarse; it furnishes, however, a valuable oil, of which the skin pro- duces six or seven quarts, and for this it is mostly hunted. The black swan is a splendid bird, nearly the size of the tame one. It is generally found floating in flocks of eight or nine, which, when disturbed, fly off in a line or single file, and being exceedingly shy, is difficult to be brought within the range of gunshot. This, as you are aware, was the rara avis in terns of antiquity, and might have remained so, even to moderns, but for the discovery of Australia. There are, besides these, the lyre-bird and the bird of Paradise, two of the most beautiful of the feathered species anywhere to be found. Of the more common birds, in which the intending emigrant is likely to be most interested, there are many whose congeners are daily before his eyes in this country. Amongst these may be mentioned several varieties of the duck ; pigeons, turkeys, pheasants, partridges, woodcocks, curlews, larks, blackbirds, martins, swallows, robins, &c. Most of these are beautiful in plumage, but musically mute. Of birds of prey there are not many. The white eagle, and a fierce vulture of great strength, are the most prominent; there are, besides, however, hawks and owls in abundance. Although there are no dangerous wild beasts in Australia, such as lions, tigers, hyenas, and the like, still her quadrupedal inhabitants pre- sent to the zoologist a singular feature in the annals of his science. Most of these belong to the marsupialian class, ushering their young into the world scarcely formed, and nurturing and protecting them in a pouch until able to provide for themselves. Foremost amongst them stands the kangaroo ( macropus ). This remarkable creature is peculiar to Aus- tralia. It was first discovered by Captain Cook’s party, when that celebrated navigator visited the country in 1770. It would be a work of supererogation for me to describe the appearance of an animal which you and everybody else, I suppose, have seen caged in the travelling menageries or zoological gardens of England. However, I may remark, that in the w r oods its motions are singularly free, elastic, and elegant. It is exclusively herbiverous, and is gregarious in its habits—associating in small herds under the direction or leadership of the older males. The pouch, or receptacle for the young, with which the female is fur- nished, is situated just below her breasts, where they sit to suck. It is hunted for its flesh both by the squatter and the native, and its tail fur- nishes a soup as delicious as the best ox-tail to be got in London. Of kangaroos there are several varieties, from the forester, standing six feet high, and weighing from 100 lbs. to 140 lbs. down to the size of a com- mon English mouse. Besides these, there are the wombat, that burrows like a badger, and does not quit its "retreat till dark. The size of this animal equals that of a sheep, often weighing 140 pounds, whilst its flesh is said to resemble lean mutton in its flavour. It feeds upon the long coarse grass, and in the interior is nocturnal in its habits, although on the uninhabited islands it is said to feed at all times, and not unusually amongst the sea-refuse on the shores. The bandicoot is another indigenous marsupial, and in some respects analogous to the kangaroo. The most common species is called the long-nosed. It measures about a foot and a half from the snout to the root of the tail, which bears a considerable resem- blance to that of a large rat. Its general appearance is disgusting, whilst its habits are particularly predatory upon the farmyards of the settlers. Both bush-tailed and ring-tailed opossums are plentiful. They also arc timid, and nocturnal in their habits. By day they conceal them- selves in the hollows of trees, or among the branches; and when night arrives, sally forth to prey upon insects, reptiles, small birds, &c., not forgetting even the poultry of the farmhouse, and a few roots and fruits, to give their repast both variety and relish. The female has ten or fifteen young, which she produces in a state extremely undeveloped, being small, naked, blind, and shapeless. They are found in the pouch of the mother, adhering to her teats. Here they remain for fifty days, until they have attained the size of a mouse, at which period their bodies have become slightly covered with hair, and their eyes are opened. They now begin to steal forth from their hiding-place to sport amongst the grass; but on the slightest noise or appearance of danger, like a flock of miniature horses, they fly into their place of safety with the greatest precipitation. Nor do they absolutely quit the parental tene- ment which shelters them for a long time after, seeking its protection on the slightest emergency. Nay, it is even said, that when the pouch affords them no longer a refuge, they will jump on the back of their mother, entwine their tails with hers, and thus securely fastened, adhere to ber while she carries them out of danger. The dingo, or Australian dog, is extremely fierce, and sometimes destructive to the sheep. lie is of a reddish brown colour, has a wolf- like appearance, but is supposed not to be indigenous. Squirrels and native cats, some white and others spotted like the leopard, are numerous, but too much influenced by fear to attack man. Of all the singular animals, however, which either this country or any other offers to the consideration of the naturalist, there is none equal to the ornithorhynchus, or duck-billed platypus. It is about twenty inches long, flattened like an otter in the body, which on the back is covered with a thick, soft fur, of a dark brown colour, but whitish beneath. Its beak is that of a duck, grafted on the head of a quadruped. Its fore-feet are webbed, and in some manner resembling a pair of fins, whilst its hind-feet are clawed, short and narrow, and turned backwards. When this natural wonder was first discovered, it excited the suspicion of the naturalists of this country, who were afraid some trick was being attempted to be played off upon them ; and it was not till other two arrived that its bill was believed to be a natural appen- dage of its body. Then, however, it received a place in the annals of natural science. It burrows in the banks of streams; and when seeking food in the mud and water, the motions of its mandibles are precisely the same as those of a duck when feeding in similar situations. The male is armed with a spur on each hind leg, having a canal in it similar to that which is found in the poison-fang of venomous snakes, and also, like it, furnished with a gland at the base, secreting a fluid; hence it has been thought likely that wounds produced by it would be dangerous. As to the fish of Australia, they are abundant, both in the fresh streams and rivers of the interior, as well as in the bays which indent the coasts; but they have not yet become sufficiently attractive in the eyes of the settlers to require here a more specific notice. Snakes are numerous, and the most deadly amongst them is the death-adder, which never moves aside on the approach of the pedestrian. As it is never the assailant, however, unless trod upon or struck, it is easily avoided, and easily killed. Its bite, however, is fearfully rapid in its effects, the venom diffusing itself through the system at a speed which calls for the most prompt remedial measures to check it, or death must ensue. Lizards and leeches are abundant; and insects a million times more plentiful than the auriferous particles with which the golden fields, gullies, and creeks are strewed. Amongst these the centipede and the tarantula are the most noxious: but although their bites are severe, immediate care will remove their most dangerous effects. The woods, the vegetation, the fruits, and the flowers of Australia, now demand our attention. If it is still a portion of your diversions to wander into the w r oods and fields of that rich and beautiful part of this island in which it has been your lot to be born, and mostly to reside, you would be surprised, if not delighted, with the peculiar aspects which the sylvan scenery of the austral world would present to your view. Every feature is there so different from what it is here. There the trees are all evergreen, and consist mostly of the eucalypti and acacia species. They blossom luxuriantly in the spring ; and although their foliage is in general bare and hanging vertically, still they are grateful to the eye, notwithstanding the deeply sombre hue by which they are characterised. The several varieties of the gum-tree, stringy-bark, iron-bark, all of the species eucalyptus , grow to an enormous size, and are valuable for the various purposes to which their timber can be adapted. The first obtain their name from the quantity of gum they exude, and are of two kinds, the red and the white. The former of these is not only the most common but the most lovely of its tribe, and is in great demand with builders, cabinet- makers, and wheelwrights, from its hardness, and the deep crimson colour which it takes on being subjected to the hands of the polisher. The latter, which yields the finest gum, is better fitted for carpentry ; and both, notwithstanding their ponderosity, are found well suited for ship-building. They are the chief adornments of the banka of rivers, over which their majestic forms fling their shadows in the sunset of a summer eve in long dark lines, that would seem to be something more tangible from their breadth, depth, and intensity. The stringy-bark is employed mostly for house-building purposes, and the iron-bark for ship-building. The cedar, of which there are two varieties, is principally used for household furniture, as also the fancy woods, known as rose-wood, satin- wood, yellow-wood, and cypress-pine. Of pine there are several varieties, as well as forests of box-tree. The native cypress bears an agreeable fruit, similar to the cherry in appearance, but with the stone on the out- side. Of ferns, heaths, and native grasses, there are many varieties, and some of them exceedingly beautiful. I now come to that species of vegetation which is appropriated by the cuisine , and which in your eyes, and perhaps in those of the most of the readers of these pages, will be looked upon as of far more import- ance than those gigantic products which, whilst they overshadow the soil upon which they grow, seem to dignify it by the colossal grandeur of their proportions. Cauliflowers, carrots, cabbages, Scotch kale, brocoli, cress and celery, asparagus, artichokes, garlic and endive, all flourish in the colony, and arrive at as great perfection as they do in this country. The onion succeeds better there than here, and the leek, lettuce, the parsnip, and the pea, are equally favourable to the climate and the soil. The potato does not succeed but in cool upland districts; nor will the scarlet-runner grow at all but under the most encouraging circumstances. Sea-kale and spinach succeed in agreeable soils, and turnips grow beautifully throughout the year. Other roots and vegetables—such as radishes, parsley, mustard, marjoram, and mint —thrive admirably, and leave the settler nothing to regret for the exchange of countries he has made, so far as culinary herbs and vegetables are concerned. In the production of fruits, the colony is far more prolific than this country is. There the gooseberry, the fig, the currant, the strawberry- flavoured guava, the olive, the mulberry, the nectarine, the peach, the orange, the lemon, the citron, and the lime; the pomegranate, the pear, the quince, and the plum; the strawberry, the raspberry, the loquat, and the vine, all flourish and yield their refreshing fruits in their proper seasons'. In some districts, several of them arrive at greater perfection than they do in others; as, for example, the strawberry and the rasp- berry succeed best in high situations, whilst the orange family thrive best on the plains, or in those localities which are sheltered from the sweep of the winds. The native flowers exhibit a high degree of richness and beauty, but they are, in many instances, without smell. This is a great drawback to the delight which these offspring of the soil are usually so well calcu- lated to diffuse. Why nature has denied them this, is one of those anomalies with which she sometimes tries to puzzle mankind, for their beauty, in this instance, can scarcely be said to compensate for the abnegation. Convulvuli, geraniums, hyacinths, daffodils, and ever- lasting buttercups arc abundant, whilst an extensive class of the orchisis is exceedingly beautiful. The native indigo throws forth a profusion of purple flowers, and the yam luxuriates in a dazzling robe of yellow blossoms ; others of the floral tribe have not yet found a name, but no doubt will soon be brought within the categorical arrangements of the scientific botanist. Flax and tobacco are indigenous, and before many years must become valuable articles of commerce to the colonists. Such is a succinct review of the principal features of the zoological and vegetable kingdoms of the austral world, so far as I was able to gather them from my own observation, and to glean from that of others. I have been desirous of laying them before you in as rapid, yet at the same time as intelligible a form as possible, in order that they might be readily embraced by the mind, and enable it to draw a veritable conclusion upon the actualities of the country, so far as they have in this respect yet de- veloped themselves. It was my intention here to have given you a de- scription of the farm-steadings which, here and there, relieve and cheer- fulise the monotony of “ the Bushbut we have just arrived at Forest Creek, where we behold the gold-diggers at work, and therefore must leave that to a future opportunity, to describe the extraordinary scene which now lies before us. CHAPTER VI. Impressions of the Diggings, in a Letter by the Special Correspondent of the Hlelhoums Argus —Observations on the Hot Winds and Dysentery—Graphic Description of the Forest Creek Diggings by another Correspondent. Previous to giving you my own impressions which the first glimpse of the diggings made upon my mind, I shall give you a description which, in the month of March, 1852, appeared in the Melbourne Argus, and which, being from the special correspondent of that paper, may be taken as a true picture of what was to be seen at Mount Alexander. “ To give any accurate idea of the appearance of the diggings would be next to impossible. Situated in the heart of a rather densely-tim- bered country, the town-resident would, on his arrival, naturally anti- cipate seeing long ranges of snow-white tents crowded together, or picturesquely grouped in a scene of delightful verdure, the long tangled grass forming a living carpet under his foot, and cool umbrageous shrubs interspersed around. How different, however, is the reality of the pic- ture thus drawn by fancy! The road which winds along the creek through the diggings is, from the constant traffic, ten times more dusty than even dusty Melbourne, and the heavy gusts of wind which pour through the gullies with great violence whirl it up in clouds, and scatter it far and near upon everything around. The newly-erected tent does not, therefore, long retain its brilliant whiteness; a few blasts powder it effectually, and give it the same sombre, indescribable, dusty hue that distinguishes its neighbours, and soon take off every appearance of freshness. In the same way, such trees as have escaped the axe are dusted to an unnatural brownness, and look more like the desperate attempts at vegetation made by the stunted shrubs of a Hackney roadside villa, than the giant growth of an Australian forest. Even off the road, the earth is so trodden and worn by the thousands of feet that are constantly passing and repassing, that not the faintest sign of verdure remains upon the ground, all being bare and dusty; while, on the southern side of the creek, the hills are so pierced, and the subsoil so tossed and tumbled about upon their face, that they look like nothing but gravel or chalk-pits and stone-quarries. When to this is also added the constant feeding of the innumerable orses which throng the diggings, eating off the grass on the few hills that have not been ransacked, and even cropping the shoots of the tew shrubs that grow amongst the rocks, baring them of every particle of verdure—and the rude, rough look of the jagged rocks which protrude from the bare surface —anything but a refreshing picture meets the eye. In fact, the very first sight of the Forest Creek gives to the traveller a very distinct impression of the parching aridity which now prevails. “ I have said that the ranges were heavily timbered; but in this I wish to be understood to allude to the quantity rather than the size of the timber, there being but very few trees of more than three feet in diameter, and those only on the flats of the Creek, being principally spotted-green and bastard-box. The majority of the stringy bark, which is the prevailing timber of the hills, range from ten to fourteen inches through, and having their outside bark blackened by the action of frequent fires, form a sombre background to what is now anything but a lively picture. “ You have heard of the failure of the water on the ground; and, doubtless, almost daily paragraphs, from one source or another, have reached you, respecting the diminished yield of gold on this account; but few have yet adverted to the many evils which this want of one of the first necessaries of life is causing. None have told of the seeds of mortal disease, that have been sowing and are now sowing; scarcely any have mentioned, except casually, the name of the demon ‘‘Dysentery,” that is now stalking abroad through the diggings, breaking down with ruthless arm the stout and sturdy, and bending the weak and puny to the dust, giving them graves amidst the soil charged with the golden dross they so much coveted, and in search of which they have lost their lives. Yet all these are evils attendant on this lightly-talked-of scarcity. “ The political economist touches curiously on the subject in account ing for the falling-off in what has become an article of large exporta- tion ; but no thought enters into his calculations of the lives that are being sacrificed, of the wives that are being made widows, or of the children that are being made fatherless. All this, however, is daily occurring. Death follows death in quick succession, until the humble little burial-place of four graves, to which one of your correspondents has alluded, has gradually assumed the appearance of a town cemetery. “ Leaving this sombre topic, let me glance at the political and social evils that the want of rain is causing; though, even politically, I doubt much if that which affects so largely the lives of a great portion of the community is not a matter worth the consideration of the statesman as 3. d well as the philanthropist. In this lam borne out by the precedent shown by the South Australian Government. Their first step towards forming a road to Mount Alexander was to send a party of sappers to sink wells. Too careful of the lives of their population to mark them out a road on which they might perish by.the way, by that worst of causes — thirst, their forethought provided against any such casualty. With us, how different has been the case! Truly may it be said, * Like master, like manthe apathy of the high officers of Government has been transmitted to those lower in the scale, and our Gold Commis- sioners have thought only of themselves, leaving the population to get water or not as they best could. With every prospect of a long-conti- nued drought, the most shameful improvidence ot water has been mani- fest; yet whilst the men in office have jealously preserved the water- hole in their own immediate locality for their own use, by means of an armed sentry, no effort has been made, either by interdict or otherwise, to secure a good supply of water for the people. (t In various parts of the creek, there were, some few weeks back, several excellent wells, from which a pure and w 7 holesome supply could be obtained; but as the water failed in the creek, these wells were looked upon with a jealous eye by many of the diggers, who, thinking more of personal gain than of the health or comfort of their fellows, gradually sunk wells around these spots, leaving scarcely any eight feet square of space unpierced. The water thus procured, at first, in abun- dance, was not used for domestic purposes, but was applied, as long as it lasted, for gold-washing; and the result has been, that the heavy demand thus made upon the springs, added to the continued drought, and the great evaporation from so many holes being open, has at last exhausted them. Now, this could not have been done without the knowledge of the Commissioners; and yet they remained inactive and quiescent, although they had every power in their hands to prevent this shameful waste. “ One of the first effects from this cause has been the disease and dis- comfort already alluded to, both of which might have been prevented by the ordinary forethought which we have a right to expect from in- telligent men. The other effects lie beyond human control; for nothing but the clouds of heaven could have ever furnished such a quantity of water as our diggers would daily demand. As it is, hundreds are now walking about idle, knowing of spots where gold exists in abundance, but yet without the means of washing it out from the earth; these are such as have brought up a good supply of provisions, and are thus beyond the necessity of providing for existence, and, consequently, have no inclina- tion to labour for a very poor remuneration. Very many there are, however, whose daily wants compel them to toil for a subsistence, and hard indeed is their labour, confined as their remuneration is, in a great measure, to such gold as they can pick out dry from the soil. Even amongst these cases of luck sometimes occur, and I have several times heard of lucky finds. There is a third class again, which continue toiling despite all personal discomfort, anxious only to increase the store of gold for which alone they have sought our shores. “ Under this state of things, then, it is not at all surprising that the sound most pleasing to the digger’s ear—the rattle of the cradle as it rocks—is no longer heard. Here and there only will you see some desperate individual baling a pea-soupy liquid, which is of the con- sistency of batter, into his cradle, rocking frantically the while; but, as might be expected, losing all the finer and more valuable portion of his gold.” In this letter there are two evils mentioned as belonging to the Aus- tralian climate, which may excite in the imagination a greater degree of terror than they deserve; these are the hot winds which at certain seasons prevail, and dysentery. The former of these, although dis- agreeable, are by no means attended with deleterious consequences to health. The consumptive no doubt feel them more severely than the healthy and strong; but as they are believed to be quite free from the impregnation of noxious gases, their operation is disagreeable but not destructive. On the last day of our journey to Forest Creek we were favoured with a taste of the effects. At first it was scarcely perceptible, but as it increased it bore upon its wings clouds of dust and sand, which produced a singularly burning sensation upon the face. When severe, however, as in our case it was not, it assumes the characteristics of the Asiatic sirocco, sweeping over the plains like a fiery demon, parching the lips, scorching the face and hands, drying the moisture of the eyes, and impeding the freedom of respiration. This is as its action is often felt; yet on the robust constitution it produces no such effects as to injure health, nor would it be heeded in the slightest degree but for the dust with which it is accompanied. In reference to dysentery, both it and diarrhoea are of frequent occur- rence, particularly in the spring and the commencement of the autumn; but they are seldom fatal. At the diggings, ill-health is certainly likely to be more frequent, and perhaps more severe, than it would be if you were reaping all the attention, care, and comfort of home; but no one should go there without having taken into consideration the vast differ- ence he will certainly find in all that appertains to the convenience and enjoyments of life, as compared with those which lie must have volun- tarily quitted for the cupiditive pursuit of gold-digging. To relieve the somewhat doleful impression which the above writer must have left on your mind, and more completely to fill up the picture which he has drawn, I shall here insert another letter, written also in the month of March, but by a different hand. “ Two miles down Forest Creek the tent of the Commissioner is situ- ated, forming, of course, the official, though not the real centre of the digging 3; and around this, as if his very presence gave security, innu- merable stores are built, while the whole space is thickly covered with tents. Just at this spot, also, Fryar’s Creek joins the Forest Creek, the diggings extending some eight or ten miles, if not more, from the junction; the road, however, crosses the ranges a little below the post- office, extending about five miles when it comes upon the creek in the heart of the diggings. The first range, or rather ridge, below the post- office, is the celebrated Red Hill, where such large amounts of gold were collected, and at the base of which the great surface-washings lay. This base is a freestone rock, with a slight slope to the east. On this lies a heavy concrete mass, principally of ironstone, while the whole of the soil to the surface is strongly impregnated with iron, giving the hill the red appearance from which its name is derived. On the top of the ridge, the holes that have been sunk have seldom exceeded twenty-four or twenty-five feet when the rock was reached ; but at the base the rock seems to have been almost cleared, doubtless by the action of floods, of the mass that must have at some time covered it, leaving it in many places bare, and scattered the golden treasures that reposed upon it among the alluvial surface-soil of the gully. Next to the Red Hill is the Adelaide Hill, and beyond that again the White Hill, both of which are, also, not unknown to fame from the vast quantities of gold that have been drawn from their bosoms. In a narrow gully across the creek, and nearly opposite the post-office, is the cemetery of the diggings; already there are six graves, the last having been filled so lately as Thursday last. “ These were the first localities upon which digging was commenced, and yet there are still very many holes that are being profitably worked. From these the diggers have gradually extended them- selves, till there is hardly a range or a water-course that has not been delved into in the search for the glittering dross. This is more the case at present than at any other time, as the scarcity of water will not allow of any earth being washed, but such as will produce a very large amount of gold Water is attainable, but not in the water-holes of the creek, every one of which is now choked up by the tailings of the cradles; but by sinking on the flats of the creek very good water is procured at a depth of twenty feet. This plan is now being pursued. A party sinks a well, and then cuts a hole for washing in, the cradle being placed in a convenient position. Water is then drawn up from the well, and the soil which has been carted from the hole where it was dug, is thus washed. In all cases the stuff washed is some very choice pickings from the strata of the hole, such as the experience of the miner leaves him to believe may contain gold. Very many, however, who dislike the toil and expense attendant upon this process, are simply working their holes as dry diggings—nuggeting as it is called here— putting aside such of the stuff as appears likely, and saving it for a more propitious season. Many hundreds have done this; and the advent of rain will turn out an amount of gold that will astonish the good folks of Melbourne. “ Another effect that the drought has had has been that it has dis- persed the diggers in every direction over the face of the country. Gullies, creeks, hills, ridges, water-courses, and ranges, have all been ransacked and turned over, till the whole country is now pretty well known to some or other of the diggers; and with water several spots that are known to be rich will be worked to advantage. In this search, it is amusing to see the eagerness of the gold-seekers. Dozens will watch the movements of a prospector; while the slightest rumour of gold discovery in any particular locality will send hundreds to the spot, and will cause the ground to be parcelled out, lotted and worked with the most astounding rapidity.” Here, now, you have two accounts, both written in the month of March, two months later than my arrival, and both true, so far as the narrators are concerned, but seen through different mental media. I shall give you my own impressions in the succeeding chapter. CHAPTER VII. First impressions on seeing the Diggings—Appearances of the Holes or Pits—Evening and Night Scenes amidst the Tents—Night Attack upon our own Pavilion, and Narrow Escape of the Death of Brown—The Plunder of our Tent—Consolatory Eeflections—Morning in our Circumstances hailed as it ought to be—Descent among the Diggers. You remember the beautiful description in “Marmion” of tbe Scottish army of the misguided James the Fourth sleeping upon the tented field of the Boroughmuir, in the vicinity of the city of Edinburgh, previous to its departure for the English border, to fight the battle of Flodden. If not, let me recall it:— Thousand pavilions white as snow. Spread all the Boroughmuir below, Upland and dale and down. A thousand did I say ? I ween Thousands on thousands there were seen, That chequered all the heath between The streamlet and the town, In crossing ranks extending far, Forming a camp irregular : Oft giving way where still there stood Some rcliques'of the old oak wood, That darkly huge did intervene, And tamed the glaring white with green. In these extended lines there lay A martial kingdom’s vast array. Divest this of its military character, and in place of oaks substitute the indigenous trees I have already described; scatter with the irregularity of chance the tents, from the bark gunya and the comfortable marquee down to the “rustic bower” or the calico-covered branch; sprinkle the whole with some fine dust and strew the ground with gravel, sand, and fallen timber; listen to the rocking of the miner’s cradles, the reverbera- tions of his falling pick-axe, the shout of expectant hope, and the laugh of recklessness; exchange the clang of the hammer of the armourer for that of the common blacksmith, the note of the horn for the bay of the dog— and your imagination will, in some measure, have realised the vision of a scene at Forest Creek. It is a wonderful representation, and must be surveyed as a picture which no other age, since the w T orld began, has exhibited. The tents, in certain spots, are crowded together with all the compactness of a city street, and tenanted by the creatures of every country, actuated by the passions of every clime. The Government Commissioner’s establishment or residence is apparent by the mounted police on one side and the native police on the other; and a number of stores for the sale of the necessaries of a gold-digger’s life are here and there scattered like so many detached shops in the middle of a town. \ou must not expect, however, that their frontages are windowed like those in Regent-street or St. Paul’s churchyard, or defended from the attack of the midnight burglar by ponderous doors and locks and bars. No, no; nothing of this kind; the light penetrates the receptacles as it best can, whilst their property is guarded by the vigilance of its owners, who are usually supplied with a few formidable weapons ready charged for any danger that may invade them. The whole scene is one of busy labo- rious life. The forest, whose echoes but a few months ago were awa- kened only by the rushing of a stream, the voice of the bell-bh’d, or the cry of the jay or laughing jackass, now reverberates the sounds of human industry, wheeling, washing, rocking, and digging in all direc- tions. A few women and one or two children stand at the entrance of some tents, and others are even assisting their husbands or relatives in the voluntary toil to which they have doomed themselves for a time. Some have laboured unceasingly from day to day for a month, the term of their license, and have made nothing; others have hardly broken ground and have taken hundreds of pounds. Disappointment depresses one group to an utter abandonment of the field; hope animates another to continued exertion. Despondency for the last day plies his axe in one hole, and drops it in despair. Manly perseverance in the next falls upon a pocket of the auriferous treasure, and is independent for life. Thus it is in the great game of gold-seeking, as in other speculative pursuits ; one rises whilst another sinks. But it must be admitted that, considering the previous occupations of many of the adventurers, by far the greater proportion of them are enabled to amass a sufficiency to place them- selves in a much better position of life than that in which they moved previously, if they only added ordinary prudence and providence to the luck with which they have been favoured. Such are the impressions which were made upon me, and übsequently confirmed, when I first surveyed from the top of an eminence one of those auriferous valleys which have now become so common in the austral world. The sun was nearly setting, and the wearied miners, mostly dressed in red and blue woollen shirts and broad cabbage-tree hats, were beginning to pick up their tools to retire for the day, leaving the ground so completely holed that it resembled the empty pits in a large tanner’s yard more than any other object I have seen. The par- titions dividing the holes are, in most instances, very narrow, yet the diggers move upon them with a nimbleness and alacrity which daily custom only can account for. They wheel the barrow or carry the bag with the utmost ease and precision upon ledges scarcely more than a foot wide, and with no other danger save the breaking down of the partition, when the unfortunate victim is precipitated, perhaps, twenty feet to the bottom of a hole, and breaks the back of his comrade, or shares with him the death of being buried alive. Accidents of a frightful nature are by no means unfrequent, and often attended with circum- stances that will incapacitate the sufferers for ever from undergoing any kind of labour requiring the slightest extra exertion. These generally arise from carelessness, ignorance, or the too deep indulgence in the rum-jug, which, by the way, has proved as great a curse at the diggings as the most sincere Timon or hater of his species could desire, and seems to carry with it, wherever it goes, trains of evils as incalculable in their amount as they are enormous in their magnitude. Whilst -we were all resting ourselves beneath the shade of a gum- tree, and musing on the extraordinary scene before us, a gun from the tent of the Commissioners was fired, and announced the termination of digging for the day. Now every party sought its tent, and another scene in the drama began to develop itself, yet more picturesque than that which we have attempted to describe. The same amount of busi- ness seemed to be going on, but it was entirely of another kind. Fires were being kindled, and large volumes of smoke began to roll upward through the clear atmosphere of the valley. The noise of the axe, the rocking of the cradle, with the swish-mash sound of the water, the wheeling of the barrows, had all ceased, and a comparative stillness pervaded the whole extent of that spot so prolific of human life. Kettles were occupying the fires, and were soon steaming in all directions, when the fragrant tea, accompanied with the solid damper ( Anglice unleavened bread), refreshed the weary and stimulated the weak. To this succeeded the pipe in the cool of the evening, beneath the shadow of the tent, and the talk of the day’s findings and adventures till night arrived. Then the fires were made up, and the appearance ol long lines of blazing logs, with some of the dark figures of Salvator Rosa’s imagination hovering round, and here and there dimly shadowed out against the stem of a tree, had a wild and striking effect In short, the whole proceedings were so different from anything we had ever seen, and possessed so much novelty, that it was not for some time after the gun had fired that we commenced the erection of our own frail tenement upon the very spot from which we hail surveyed the operations in the creek below. When we had finished our habitation, prepared our fire, taken tea, and were once more about to lay ourselves down for the night, we were alarmed by the report of a pistol or a gun, and a bullet perforating our tent, passing through the hat of Brown, and lodging amongst the embers of our fire. We were so stunned for a few seconds, that we sat still, looking with surprise in each others’ faces, until Binks, recovering his self-possession and being nearest the doorway, hastened out just in time to detect in the clear moonlight, a dark shadowy form bounding off amongst the trees. Urged on by the impetuosity of excited feeling and the force of his natural courage, he followed without hesitation, never for a moment considering whether the object was the being or not, who had either by accident or design nearly brought Brown to an untimely end. We also joined in the pursuit, leaving our tent and all that was in it, for the purpose of endeavouring to capture the villain. We saw him distinctly bounding from tree to tree, perfectly secure from any aim which might be taken to bring him down with a pistol, and keeping just at such a distance as enabled us to hold him in view, without the possibility of being able to get nearer. In this way he provoked us to follow for a considerable distance in the woods, when with a loud and wild Cooie —a call answering to our hilloa—he flung himself into an open space, and sped like an arrow from our sight. We now came up with one another, and began, as we thought, to retrace our steps, but found that we had lost ourselves. W e had in our haste taken no note of the direction we had pursued, and the same- ness of appearance which characterises the general bush baffled all our attempts at returning to the spot we had just left. It could not have been more than a few hundreds of yards from us, yet we wandered hour after hour in search of it, and it was only by the merest chance that we came upon a portion of the common road, which we followed, not knowing whether we were right or wrong until we stumbled upon our tent. The object of the whole adventure now became apparent. The inside of our temporary habitation had been ransacked. The beds and the blankets were carried away, saving the one which formed the tent; our bundles were opened, their contents lying upon the ground, but we found nothing else gone, proving that it was something, other than what was there of which the plunderers stood in need. Fortu- nately, we had taken our fire-arms with us, or they would certainly have shared the fate of our scanty coverings and humble couches. Although there was really little to laugh at in this adventure, it was impossible to conceal from ourselves the dexterity of the trick which had been played upon us. We looked into each other’s faces for a few moments, with silent astonishment, and then, without expressing it, burst out into a roar, which sufficiently interpreted the general feeling which pervaded our minds, and which was that of having been com- pletely “ done.” We at once concluded that there was no intent to kill, although the escape was narrow, but merely greatly to alarm, and then our subsequent conduct might be pretty safely calculated upon. The actors in this scheme had evidently passed beyond their novitiate in their profession. They had, no doubt, frequently planned and per- petrated like adventures before with success, and, well knowing how to operate upon the passions, so managed their decoy, that we could not resist the temptation of following him, in the hope of bringing him to justice, or gratifying the keener sentiment of immediate revenge. However much we might have felt disposed to sleep before this ad- venture, every inclination of this kind had deserted us now; so, making the worst of a bad job, we raked the dying embers of our fire together, and resolved to sit it out until daylight should enable us to descend amongst the diggers to observe the various processes pursued, and gather what information we could, before pitching our tent and starting on our own account. Meanwhile we set the kettle on the fire, in order that breakfast might be early despatched, and no time lost ; as we were now on the fields of gold, and hoped to realise all the expectations which, it must not be denied, we, in common with thousands more, entertained of the inexhaustible riches which were to be obtained merely for the digging. As for the blankets and the bedding, they were scarcely worth a thought in a land where gold mingled with the very dust upon which we slept. Besides, we were not quite destitute of money yet,-and we had not the slightest doubt that some of the unlucky wights whose digging propensities had been rewarded only with disappointment in place of the yellow metal, would be very glad to dispose of their whole stock and baggage rather than carry them away when about to abandon the field. At this time it was estimated that there were from fifteen to twenty thousand persons at the diggings, and amongst such a motley assemblage it was not to be expected that Fortune was kind to all, notwithstanding the proverbial liberality with which she dealt out her favours in this happy spot. Indeed, we had had some proofs of this already. On our way hither we had met some of these unfortunates, whose hopes had been blighted, whose perseverance had been exhausted, and whose tempers had been soured to such a degree that, if they could, they would have sworn that there was no gold to be got at all, although in the holes adjoining theirs it was dug out before their very eyes. These generally belonged to that class whG not unfrequently miscalculate their own energies, and whose sanguine temperaments urge them into difficult enterprises with an enthusiasm which bars all reflection, and which is certain to be soon exhausted before impediments frequent and unconceived of. Such individuals are entirely unfitted for a life either of danger or toil; and where per- severance is one of the most essential requisites to lead to success, even amidst the creeks and gullies of the auriferous regions of Australia, it is seldom to be found amongst those who act rather from impulse than reflection, and whose energies become feeble and inactive in proportion to the gradual abatement of their enthusiasm. It was fortunate for us that, however enthusiastic some of us might be, we were sufficiently im- pressed with the knowledge that without perseverance no really great “ findings ” could be our reward, unless some extraordinary luck would be our lot, as it had been that of a few others, but of which, so far as my own feelings were involved, I really never cherished the expectation. We had hardly finished our morning repast when the first grey streak of dawn began to appear in the east, and was speedily succeeded by the whole blaze of day. The soft, calm, and beautiful hours of twi- light, or morning dawn, often felt to be so delightful in England, are scarcely known in Australia. There night follows the setting of the sun with such rapidity that its abruptness is felt to be absolutely disagreeable to one who has all his life been habituated to more gradual transitions in the arrangements of light and shade; and day follows night with similar speed, as if nature abhorred “ the gloaming” as much as it is said she was wont to abhor a vacuum. If, however, this suddenness of change from day to night, and from night to day, be felt to be disagreeable in the first case, we did not feel it to be so in the second, as the grey of the morning, even in Britain, is scarcely so agreeable as that of the evening, when the whole atmosphere has been warmed by the genial influence of the sun. In our present situation the return of day was particularly grateful; and we hailed the rising orb, as he flung his primal beams upon the foliage-crested trees, with a joy and cheerfulness proportionate to the glorious light with which he illumined the cerulean canopy which spread itself in spotless purity over our heads. Exhilirating as a summer sunrise always is, even though surveyed glancing upon the fruits, flowers, potatoes, and cabbage-plants of Oovent-garden Market, it is a hundred times more so when beheld from a partially open space in the Australian bush. There the perfect sense of freedom which you enjoy; the boundless wilderness which you may tread as your own; the magnificent forest-trees, amongst which you may wander, shoot, or hunt, with unrestricted license; the emancipation of mind from every care but that of mere existence; the gradual and imperceptible identi- fication of self with the nature of the scenery with which you arc sur- rounded ; the brightness of the sky and the clearness of the atmosphere, all tend to enliven the feelings and entrance the enjoyment of a sunrise beyond anything you can conceive to exist amongst the tax-ridden, care-worn, fog-benighted islanders of Britain. If you add to this, too, the glory of having been worth something sufficiently tempting, even in a land of gold, to excite the acquisitiveness of a midnight robber, and the happiness of having escaped the chance of having had your brains blown out, you will be able fully to appreciate the feelings with which we, on this particular occasion, welcomed the radiant dispensations of the God of Day when he burst from the ebon portals of the east, almost as sud- denly as the magician of a Christmas pantomime changes caverns of gloom into realms of light, wild beasts into fairies, and earth-born mortals like ourselves into inhabitants of the celestial spheres. I have already alluded to the circumstance of a great many of the natural phenomena of the Australian colonies assuming characteristics quite the opposite of those which distinguish this country. This, as you no doubt are aware, arises from their being on the south side of the equator. There, the day and the night are, throughout the year, nearly of equal lengths, the sun never continuing above the horizon longer than from fourteen to fifteen hours, nor shorter than from ten to eleven. The nights, however, realise all that the most poetical imagination could wish in the form of moon and star-light glory. The southern constellations irradiate the heavens with unequalled splendour; and the moon shines with such intensity that for miles around the objects of a landscape may be distinctly traced. I have frequently read by the light of her silvery radiance when the diggings and the forest were alike hushed to the still- ness of death; when the twinklings of her own astral train were the only objects which seemed imbued with animation; when half the world was buried in repose; and when my own thoughts were too active to yield to the calls of rest, which even the long labours of a summer-day some- times failed to bring. Breakfast now being finished, and the sound of the axe already inti- mating that, here and there, the thirst of gold had summoned its votaries to their daily toil, we dismantled our tent and prepared to descend amongst them. It was yet early, but the ground was in many places already occupied, and in less than an hour it was as thronged as a hive with human life. The scene was strange, although in some degree monotonous.] The men were mostly dressed alike; but it was, after all, a motley assemblage, composed of the most heterogeneous materials that were ever thrown together before upon one spot since the world began. Of course, the British prevailed; but there were representa- tives of many of the nations of continental Europe and America present, as the diversity of physiognomy and language amply testified. Besides the national distinctions, there were the social distinctions of position, from the liberated convict up to the pi-ofessors of the law and the lancet. Yea, even the broken ministers of religion and the teachers of the “young idea” were here to be found pursuing a calling less responsible, and perhaps as little congenial to their bodies as the others, no doubt, were to their minds, or they would not have left them to hunt their fortunes in pits of clay, after the same fashion as the carnal and ignorant creatures amongst whom they had voluntarily cast themselves. It soon became apparent that we were not the only new-comers. Others were pouring into the creek, big With expectation, and bent on ferreting out, by all the means in their power, the spots which were likely to yield most readily the darling object of their desires. Did they really think that they would be, if they could have been, informed correctly ? Would not the man who possessed the knowledge of where the treasure lay be more likely to keep it to himself than to tell it to another? Would he who, mayhap, had voyaged sixteen thousand miles on salt water, abandoned home and risked life, be likely to reward the toil of another in preference to his own ? Certainly not. Yet there seemed to be parties whose simplicity expected nothing less, and who went about their inquiries as they would have done after the residence of the doctor of a country town in England. There were others, how- ever, more artful, and who began at a distance, and came gradually round to their point with the sly fox-like ingenuity of a long-practised examining counsel, but who, after all, had to resort to the general expe- dient of searching for themselves as the only real way of finding where the gold lay. To do this with the surest chance of success, some degree of geological knowledge was necessary; for although the thousands that were excavating in the creeks and gullies of the nearly dried up water- beds before us were, in all probability, to the last degree scientifically ignorant of the strata in which gold is usually found, still without this knowledge no one could break fresh ground with equal chances of suc- cess, although amongst the numbers who usually flocked to a newly-dis- covered spot of reputed wealth, there might be some whose luck was better than others’ knowledge in falling upon a pocket large enough to form a decent fortune for life. Let us, however, in our next chapter, notice how gold is generally found at or near the surface of the earth. ( ±G ) CHAPTER VIII. Gold-producing Countries—Now Spain—Story of the Padre and the Indians—Peru, Brazil, Africa, Eussia, California—The Discovery of Gold in Australia—Copy of Government Eegulations and Licence to Dig—lnterview between the Inspector and Neptune the Cook—Tendency to Moral Depravity in Australia—The essen- tiality of Water to the Digger, the Agriculturist, and the Stock-breeder in the pur- suit of their several vocations. # It will be sufficient to name those countries which, previous to the discoveries in Australia, were the great scenes of the precious metals, and were, in the imagination of the distant gold-seeker, the only terri- tories that could gratify his curiosity and satiate the cravings of his appetite. The first of these is New Spain, which, three hundred years ago, ex- cited the avidity of the Spanish nation, and drew them by the thousand from the voluptuous retreats of their own lovely climate to dare the dangers of a tropical sun, and to encounter the chances of war, without a single thought of the probability of death closing their career at its very outset. To the present day numerous traditions of the Spaniard’s “ lust of gold” exist in that country amongst the Indians. All these are more or less curious, many of them instructive; and some of them con- veying a moral which ought not to be without its effect upon the more reflective character of the civilised white man. These, no doubt, arose out of the cruel system of oppression which in times past was put in practice against the aborigines of the central portions of America, by their greedy conquerors of the Old World. History has long ago made us familiar with the fact, that there was no personal danger which the Spaniard would not dare, no deed of cruelty which he would not per- petrate, or act of degradation to which he would not submit, to grasp an object upon which his mind continually gloated. Anecdotes illustrative of this may yet be heard in the neighbourhood of the Mexican mines; and as many of these form quite a contrast from the coarser kind which I may have to introduce of our countrymen, one of them may afford an agreeable relief, whilst it in some measure discloses the simplicity which marked the character of the mind of the American Indian. In an Indian village, says an Indian anecdote I have somewhere read, there lived in the old Spanish times a Padre, a man of simple and retired habits, who laboured to convert and maintain the inhabitants in the Catholic faith. He was beloved by the simple tribe among whom he was domesticated, and they did not fail to prove their good will by frequent presents of such trifles as they found were agreeable to him. They say that he was a great writer, and occasionally received from the Indians of his parish a small quantity of finely-coloured dust, of which he made use to dry his sermons and letters. Knowing how greatly the Padre loved writing, they seldom returned from the mountains without bringing him some. It happened that once upon a time he had occasion to write to a friend of his, living in the capital, who was a jeweller, and did not fail to use his pounce-box. In returning an answer, his more knowing friend, to his surprise, bantered him on his great riches, seeing that he dried the very ink on his paper with gold-dust! This opened the eyes of the simple Padre. He sent for his Indian parishioners, and without divulging his newly-acquired knowledge, begged them to get him more of the fine bright sand. They, nothing doubting, did so. The demon of avarice now began to whisper in the old man’s ear, and to warm the blood of his heart. He begged for more, and received it, and then more, till they had furnished him with several pounds weight. All intreaty that they would show him the locality where this bright dust was gathered w T as for a long time resisted with calmness and steadiness. Alternate cajoling and menace were employed with equally bad success. At length, wearied out, they told him, that as they loved him and saw he was disturbed in his mind, they would yield to his desire, and show him the spot, on the condition that he would submit to be led to and from the place blindfold. To this he eagerly consented, and was, in the course of time, taken upon their shoulders, and carried whither he knew not, by many devious ways, up and down mountain and valley for many hours into the recesses of the Cordilleras, and there, in a cave, through which a stream issued from the breast of the mountain, they set him down and unbound him. They there showed him quantities of the gold-dust, intermingled with large lumps of virgin ore, while their speaker addressed him thus—“ Father, at your urgent request we have brought you here, because you desired it, and because we love you. Take now what you want and carry it away with you, and let it be as much as you can carry; for here you must never hope to come again; you will never persuade us more!” The Padre appeared to acquiesce, and after disposing as much of the precious metal about his person as he could contrive to carry, he again submitted to be blindfolded, and was taken in the arms of the Indians to be transported home. The tradition went on to relate how the good cure, upon whom the lust of gold had now effectually seized, thought to deceive his conductors by untying his rosary, and occasionally dropping a bead on the earth. Here, however, he was destined to be outwitted; for when he arrived and sat down again at his own door, the first sight which met his uncovered eyes was the contented face of one of his Indian guides, with outstretched hand, containing in its hollow the greater number of the dropped beads of his rosary, while, with unsuspecting tongue, he expressed his unfeigned joy at being able to restore such a sacred treasure to the discomfited Padre. Intreaties and threats were now employed in vain. Gentle and generous as the Indians were, they were not to be persuaded. Government were apprised of the circumstances, and commissioners, as in Australia, were sent to investigate the affair. The principal inhabitants were seized, and menace being powerless, torture —that last argument of the tyrant—was resorted to in vain, for not a word could be wrung from them. Many were put to death, still their brethren remained mute; and the village became deserted under the systematic persecution of the oppressors. The most careful researches, since repeatedly made by adventurers in search of the rich deposit, have all resulted in disappointment; and to this day, all that is known is, that somewhere in the recesses of these mountains lies the gold-mine of La Navidad. Alas for the Austral Indian, whose country, like that of the American, has proved too strong a temptation for the white man ! Amongst the American Cordilleras, the ores are procured from a quartz matrix embodied in the porphyry rock of which the whole chain consists; whilst in Peru quantities of gold are found in the bottom of gullies which have been filled by the gradual accumulation of sand. All the rocks in which gold is produced are those of the Plutonic, or primary class. Granite, gneiss, mica, and hornblend, fur- nish the gold of Brazil, whilst Africa yields it in dust and grains found in its river-beds. In Russia it is abundant, where greenstone, porphyry, and serpentine are embedded in the older limestone, when it is fre- quently associated with chromate of lime and platinum. In California, it is found pretty much as in Australia, to which I must now particu- larly direct your attention. The resemblance which exists between the American Cordillera ranges and those of Australia is strikingly manifest, and it was this which, in 1851, drew the attention of Mr. Hargreaves, on his return from California to Sydney, to examine the mountain regions in the vicinity of Bathurst. He was previously aware that there had long been rumours of the precious metal being likely to be found in remu- nerative quantities in New South Wales, and availing himself of the scientific demonstrations of the Reverend W. B. Clarke, soon was able to satisfy himself of the wealth of the district in whiclf the discoveries of that gentleman, and those of others, had formerly been pursued. This was enough. lie communicated the results of his explorations to his Excellency the Governor of the Colony, who, after being confirmed in the truth of Mr. Hargreaves’ reports, rewarded him with the sum of £5OO, and the appointment of the Commissionership of Crown Lands at an annual salary of £5OO. His duty in this office was to seek, on behalf of the Government, for other fields of employment for gold-diggers. The arrival in Sydney of quantities of gold, both in the mass and in grain, now produced such a degree of excitement that it was absolutely necessary on the part of the Government to have recourse to measures calculated to preserve order amongst the large community of diggers who were daily gathering at the mines. Accordingly, a proclamation was issued, claiming all the precious metals as belonging to the Crown, and immediately succeeded by the following announcement, which appeared in the Official Gazette, and which contains the standing rules still adhered to in the various auriferous districts of the colonies. LICENSE TO DIG AND SEARCH FOR GOLD. COLONIAL SECRETARY’S OFFICE, SYDNEY, May 23, 1851. ~W itli reference to the proclamation issued on the 22nd May instant, declaring the rights of the Crown in respect to gold found in its natural place of deposit, within the territory of New South Wales, his Excellency the Governor, with the advice of the Executive Council, has been pleased to establish the following provisional regulations, under which licenses may be obtained to dig, search for, and remove the same. 1. Prom and after the first day of June next, no person will be permitted to dig, search for, or remove gold on or from any land, whether public or private, without first taking and paying for a license in the form annexed. 2. Por the present, and pending further proofs of the extent of the gold-field, the license-fee has been fixed at thikxx shillings pee month, to be paid in advance; but it is to be understood that the rate is subject to future adjustment, as circumstances may render expedient. 3. The licenses can be obtained on the spot from the Commissioner, who has been appointed by his Excellency the Governor to carry these regulations into effect, and who is authorised to receive the fee payable thereon. 4. No person will be eligible to obtain a license, or the renewal of a license, unless he shall produce a certificate of discharge from his last service, or prove to the satisfaction of the Commissioner that he is not a person improperly absent from hired service. 5. Rules adjusting the extent and position of land to be covered by each license, and for the prevention of confusion and the interference of one license with another, will be the subject of early regulations. 4. E 6. With reference to lands alienated by the Crown in fee-simple, the Commissioner will not be authorised, for the present, to issue licenses under the regulations, to any person but the proprietors, or persons authorised by them in writing to apply for the same. his Excellency’s command, E. Deas Thcksisox. GOLD LICENSE. No. , 1851. The bearer, , having paid to me the sum of One Pound Ten Shillings on account of territorial revenue, I hereby license him to dig, search for, and remove gold in and from any such Crown land within the County of , as I shall assign to him for that purpose during the month of , 185 . This license must be produced whenever demanded by me, or any other person acting under the authority of G-ovemment. (Signed) A. 8., Commissioner. Such is a transcript of the regulations and the license by which I and you, if you liked, were to be empowered to make our fortunes within the short space of one month, and which was really done by many, although many more were doomed to suffer disappointment, and a multitude of other ills too dreadful to rehearse. According to the last clause in the license, it was subject to inspection by the Government authorities when- ever it was demanded. This was a very necessary I’egulation amongst the lawless multitudes who were collected at the diggings, and amongst whom there were some with whom forgery of any kind would have been considered a “ lark” rather than a crime, far less the innocent evasion of the Government dues for being privileged to kill oneself in their estimation with hard work, and only the chance of being rewarded for their labour. These inspectors are required to be resolute men, ready to put into execution the full power of their commission when they meet with opposition from some of those stubborn, bullet-headed characters, whose animal propensities are signally prominent, not only in their cerebral developments, but in the general expression of their faces. Such specimens of the human species were here in abundance, alive to any exploit, however daring, if gold could be obtained, security preserved, and work eschewed. One of the first scenes which met our view, on descending into the Creek, was that of an inspector examining the licenses of a party who seemed lately to have belonged to the sea, although they were, at present, pursuing a land-occupation. Amongst them was a black fellow, not a native, but of the African species, whose ham-shaped nose and rotundity of lip contorted themselves into any expression but one of gratitude towards the official who was perusing his license, and who was scarcely satisfied with the illegibility which obscured the date at which it had been issued. “ When was this granted ?” asked the inspector, whose bluff features and hairy-clad chin and chest, if possible, heightened the appearance of herculean strength which lurked in his knotty frame. “ De tird of de month !” replied the black, who, be it observed, had at no very distant day figured in the capacity of cook on board an American vessel, and rejoiced in the classical cognomen of Neptune. “ Third of the month!” repeated the inspector; “and how am I to know that, seeing that you’ve covered the date over with dirt, I verily believe, that it may not be seen ?” “ No, ’pon wud and hona,” exclaimed Neptune, “ neber did such ting in my life! Ask Massa Ben dere; he know I took it out on de fif’ ob de month.” “ The fifth!” exclaimed the inspector emphatically; and added, after a pause, during which he employed bimself in scrutinising the counte- nance of the black, but who stood as cool as a rain-cloud and repeated “De fif,’ ” “You said before that it was on the third.” “ Tird ! tird! Let me see ! did I say de tird, Massa Ben ?” “ No,” said Ben, who stood half buried in a hole, “it was the fifth you said.” “ Ees, ees, it war de fif’ I said, massa 1” “Come along with me,” said the inspector. “We will soon settle that point.” And folding up the license, he proceeded towards the Commis- sioner’s tent, followed by the black, who at his departure pushed his tongue out at the side of his mouth to Ben, who was left in charge of the hole. Desirous of witnessing the result of this adventure, we also proceeded to the Commissioner’s tent, which served not only for that functionary’s residence, but for the license-granting office and a court of justice besides. Here Neptune, for the first time, doffed a red felt cowl with which his massive head had been surmounted, and with his splay feet, as large behind as before, shambled forward and fronted the Commis- sioner. “What is your name?” inquired the inspector as he desired reference- to be made to the books to see when the license was issued. “ Neptun !” said the black. “Neptune what?” “No, massa, not Neptun What, Neptun de cook.” The reference was made, and it was found that his right to dig had been granted on the third. “Now, sir,” observed the inspector, “yon said that it was issued on the fifth, and we find that it was granted on the third; by which it is evident you have been unlawfully trying to extend the period of your right to search for gold, and—” “ I said de tird I” interrupted Neptune. “ You said the fifth, sir !” “Ton my wud and hona, sar, I said de tird. Where Massa Ben? Go ask Massa Ben; he know mo bery well. He will tell you it war de tird I say !” “ You said it was the fifth, sir.” “ Oh, my Gal! I would not say such ting, no, not for de worl’! I could not say such ting, cos I war not in dis creek on de fif’!” “ Where were you on the fifth, then ?” “ On de road from Ballarat, sar.” “ Well, then, if you were on the rOad from Ballarat on the fifth you could not have been here on the third.” “ No, sa; it was on de tird I got dat license.” “ And when did you leave Ballarat ?” “Me no remember sactly; but it war before you gub me de license,” and as if a new gleam of light had broken upon his mind, he appealed to the whole court and told them to look at the Commissioner’s own writing, and they would all see that it was the third as he said, as it was so expressed in the document. But nobody could decipher the date of the document, Neptune had taken care of this, and was ulti- mately dismissed with a reprimand which, I believe, would have very little effect in amending his morals for the future. It was no easy matter, by almost any system of police, to guard either the rights of property or regulate the internal civility of such a com- munity as was here brought together. The distinctions of meum and tuum with many were necessarily little recognised, even if the moral sense was not so completely blunted as to have lost the power of dis- tinguishing between them. Men who had been banished their native land from the turpitude of their characters, and had since served their allotted term in a penal settlement, and with the brand of “ convict” marked upon them, were hardly to be expected to look with very favour- able eyes upon those from whom their own conduct had cut them off and pointed them out as unsuitable companions in any position in life. They were consequently still inclined to turbulence, and even to the practice of their old profession, where this might be done without detection; which in the present inefficient state of the constabulary might too-generally be relied upon. Although Neptune the cook had never stood in the position of a British convict, still he evidently had learned a little of the juggling art, and would have experienced no conscientious qualms if he had successfully deceived the Government, as it was clearly his intention. Indeed, I have heard it remarked, and it was doubtless felt by some, that even the most honest, after a brief sojourn here, became a little lax in their morals. Why this should be is a question I shall leave to be answered by minds more profoundly skilled in unravelling the moral perplexities in which human nature too often is involved, content- ing myself with relating an anecdote which occurred in the country, of an East Indian servant-boy, concerning a charge of robbing his master of a large bag of dollars. “ O Mango!” said his astonished employer, “ what has made you turn such a rogue? You who have been so long in my service, and always, before this, shown yourself such an honest lad!” “ Massa,” blubbered Mango, shrugging his shoulders, and distending his mouth with unfeigned sorrow, “when Mango came here, Mango bery good boy. Now Mango great rogue. Eberybody, Massa, turn rogue here ! By and by Massa turn rogue too !” Pursuing our observations amongst the miners, it soon became obvious that one of the most essential points to be considered in the selection of a spot to work upon was its proximity to water: for pre- cisely in proportion to our distance from this necessity our labour would be increased. It is perhaps the greatest drawback to the Austra- lian colonies—the scarcity of this necessary element of existence during some seasons of the year. Leaving gold-washing out of the question, in the eye of the agriculturist and the stock-holder the water-supply forms one of the most important objects of consideration. Indeed, so much is this the case, that no land is ever offered for sale to the public either by Government or private individuals, without specifying its extent of water-frontage; for without this no person would think of even looking at it. Here, however, nature herself sometimes practises a deception; for during the winter months you may see a water-course whose channel is too narrow to circumscribe the current that overflows it. But when summer returns, the water is all gone, and the bed, until winter comes round again, is as dry as a bone. Instances of this kind, however, in Victoria are not often to be met with ; for there showers are not only more frequent than in the more northern colonies, but in the channels of such streams there are usually to be found, at certain distances, pools of water which, in the language of the colony, are designated “water-holes.” These liquid repositories must, in my opinion, be regarded as one of the most singular and extraordinary features amongst the natural phenomena of the country, as they certainly are, in the height of summer, one of its most providential blessings. Often you may stroll along the verdant channel of what, in winter, contains a running stream, and suddenly fall upon a natural basin rivalling in clearness the crystal itself, and ranging from ten to twenty feet in depth. The sight of such an unexpected discovery to a tongue-parched traveller is enough to transport him with happiness, provided the element be not too much impregnated with alum or salt, which in some districts is the case, during a long continuance of dry weather, and thereby tempting only to deceive. To what their origin is to be ascribed I have never yet heard; but very likely to the innumerable invisible springs by which they are sustained, and which, in the current of ages, may have exca- vated the beds in which they are now found so beautifully to repose. But to whatever cause, their essentiality to the Gold-Finder —besides the agriculturist and the breeder of stock —will be further seen in the next chapter. CHAPTER IX. How and where the Gold is found—Different kinds of Digging—lmplements necessary to work with—Value of Geological Knowledge at the Diggings—We choose a Site, make Acquaintance, and prepare for active Operations—l he Process of Cradling- News from the Gold-Fields—Rate of Wages at Sydney—latest Market Quotations at Melbourne. An hour’s observation was long enough to enable us to perceive all that was wanted, to prepare us to commence business for ourselves in the hoping, exciting, deceiving occupation in which so many thousands were straining their thews and sinews around us. We soon saw that we were but ill-provided for the due fulfilment of our mission, not phy- sically speaking, but in the way of implements to dig, wheel, cany, sift and wash the auriferous earth; and as it was now very necessary that we should husband our funds—which, by the way, were not over plenty amongst us —we consulted upon the propriety of seeking out a disabled or a disappointed party, and purchasing theirs from them. This we were, after a little trouble, enabled to do, upon such terms as were deemed very reasonable considering the place and the general rate at which such articles were sold. To give you an idea of what these were, and what sort of utensils generally are required to pursue your researches with speed and as much comfort as you can find, take the following account, which is compiled from a strict examination of every method pursued, and most things employed, over an extent of some ten or twelve miles of explored ground. But first it may be well to inform you of how and where the gold is got, and the kinds of diggings in use in this part of the country. The gold is generally found in two forms, that is, in the alluvial deposits which are in the river beds, or in those low-lying grounds into which it has been carried by the water-abrasion of the rocks and moun- tains for a long continued series of ages; or in the matrix, that is, com- bined with quartz rock, which is its native state. It is rarely found in the sand, as it sinks to the soil beneath it. Those extraordinary nuggets or lumps of gold of which you may have heard so much, are usually found in the fissures of slaty rock, although they frequently occur in cellular quartz, when, from the presence of iron, they have a rusty appearance. So much for the places in which the. gold is got. In reference to the kinds of digging, they consist of two, technically denominated surface-digging and hole-digging. The former consists in the simple process of skimming-off a thin layer of gravel from the surface of some of the hills, to the depth of half a foot or so, when a bed of gravel is reached. The latter, is digging down in hollow places, as the name implies, between hills, or in the streams, and betwixt the fissures which are formed by the laminae of the slaty rocks. Both kinds have proved profitable, but it has generally been by the latter that those magically-sudden fortunes have been got which have turned the heads of half of the citizens and settlers of the Australian colonies. The gold at the Mount Alexander Diggings was generally found in clay, clayey gravel, or in those interstices of slaty rock to which I have just alluded, and at depths varying from the surface to twenty-five or thirty feet. It is usually found in patches or “ pockets,” as it is termed ; and a short time previous to our arrival, parties of three and four had obtained as much as fifty pounds weight in a single day. Reports of this kind were numerous, and may form a sort of apology for the relinquishing of shop-keeping, and the more tardy processes of trade- for a time, although they may not be admitted as such for the breaking of engagements where honesty and honour are equally implicated in their rupture. There could not, in fact, be a more unfavourable time for us to arrive at the diggings than in the month of January. Certainly, it was sum- mer ; but summer in England and summer in Australia are two very different seasons. The heat, although tolerable, was extraordinary; but the scarcity of water was the great evil. This was so much the case, that no earth could be washed but such as would produce a large- amount of gold, whilst it had the effect of generating dysentery, and driving hundreds home to wait the return of a more favourable season. It was from one of these parties that we were enabled to purchase a tent and the following digging-apparatus, with several other trifling conveniences, for the paltry sum of three pounds:— A tin pan, in shape like a good-sized milk-dish ; two pickaxes, two- spades, and two crow-bars; some iron wedges, a wheelbarrow, a shovel, and a felling-axe; two gardener’s trowels, two tin buckets, and a cradle. These, besides an iron broth-pot, a kettle, several tin mugs, three plates, and a few coarse knives and forks, &c., were all handed over to us, with a very good tent, for the sum above mentioned; but everything was now at a discount, from the scarcity of water, and the consequent diffi- culty of working the ground. We were thus provided with all that was necessary to commence operations; the only remaining thing for us to do being to find the auriferous “ pocket” into which we might dip our hands with perfect success. A book of positional and geological excerpta, which I had collected myself, of the various characteristics of the “diggings,” was now, as it had frequently been before, eagerly consulted, and the following extract, taken from a lecture delivered in Melbourne, and reported in the Melbourne Argus of October 7th, 1851, was embraced as a sort of guide which was to lead us through the various strata of the earth, until we arrived at the celebrated blue clay upon which the gold was to be found:— “ On the surface of the earth was turf, in a layer of about a foot in depth, below which was a layer of rich black alluvial soil, and below that, grey clay; below that again was a description of red gravel, which was some- times very good; then red or yellow clay, in which gold was also found ; and then a stratum, varying in thickness, of clay, streaked with various colours, and scarcely worth working; and the next stratum was of hard white pipe-clay, which was a decided barrier. Immediately above it, however, was a thin layer of chocolate-coloured clay, tough and soapy. This was the celebrated blue clay, and was very rich. “ The ground on which the diggings were situated was a sloping bank, and the strata lay with their inclinations upwards. The blue clay is found near the surface, on the brow of the hill—that is, at the depth of about a foot; but sometimes it is necessary to dig twenty feet before arriving at it.” Although a man may be possessed of a considerable portion of geo- logical knowledge, it does not follow, at a place like the diggings, that he must necessarily be successful in accordance therewith. Indeed, all that he can do more than others, is to point out originally the formations where gold is most likely to be found, when a multitude will soon be after him, skimming the slopes of the hills, like so many ants, and min- ing the earth, like so many moles. His success may not be commensu- rate with his knowledge, or even equal to that of some amongst the multitude whose great luck is only rivalled by their ignorance; but he operates with more systematic certainty, as he knows by appearances where to work and when to desist. This is his advantage. He does not exhaust himself with unnecessary labour, or form expectations with- out seeing reasonable grounds for believing that they will be realised. We were now ready to commence, and finding, during the day, in the vicinity of a water-hole, an abandoned digging which we thought bore indications of leading to auriferous results, we resolved to try it, and accordingly proceeded forthwith to the Commissioner’s tent to procure our licenses. Arrived here, we found that the last regulations, bearing date the 7th October, 1851, allowed the following scale. 1, Fifteen feet frontage on either side of a river or main creek to each person. 2. Twenty feet of the bed of a tributary to a river or main creek to each person. 3. Sixty feet of the bed of a ravine or water-course to each person. 4. Twenty feet square of table-land or river-flats to each person. If the ground was not worked within ten days after the right was taken out, all claim to it was voided; but as this was not to be our case, we began to pitch our tent almost immediately. The spot we chose for this was not far from the abandoned hole in which we proposed to work; and as there was a slight supply of water at no great distance, the locality was, at any rate, not destitute of con- venience, provided the gold was found. You must not conclude that because the hole was an abandoned one, it must therefore be an unlucky one; for it often happens that parties, in their eagerness to grasp the treasure, forget the necessity of perseverance, and leave off ere, in the eyes of more steady and resolute men, they have well begun. Many instances might be adduced of large “ finds” having been made out of such holes, by other parties who, like ourselves, saw reasons to believe that labour in such places would ultimately meet its reward. Behold us now,'then, busy with the erection of our tent, digging holes, cutting poles, stripping trees of their bark, and working with an alacrity which accompanies few of the manual operations carried on in England, This might be accounted for from the fact of our here building or erect- ing only for ourselves. We were to have no rent, house-tax, or poor- rate to pay ; the whole structure was our own, in the midst of a country, too, so far as the liberty of space is concerned, as much ours as it was that of the aborigine, before the silence of his domains was broken by the sound of the settler’s axe, or the crack of the whip of the stockman. Of society, too, there was no lack. Certainly this was not of the most refined kind, seeing that it nearly altogether consisted of the masculine gender; but, such as it was, it presented innumerable traits of character which, in any other spot of the world, would have been searched for in vain. That the seeds of danger were plentifully sown amongst it, was a fact-which was daily proving itself; but then everybody had such an air of swagger and independence, of courage and resolution —doubtless, in many instances, infinitely heightened by the magnitude of black, sandy, and red beards—that we soon felt ourselves as of the rest, which ma} be supposed to be the kind of feeling which inspires the breast of the bandit when in daily association with his own compeers. This day we devoted to the building and the getting of “ our house in order,” the transporting of our mining-implements, and the arrang- ing of the whole for the commencement of digging on the following morning. The doing of all this would not have been sufficient to occupy the whole of the day, but we occasionally lay on our oars, as the sailors express it, paid visits to neighbouring diggers, interchanged some slight civilities with those whose physiognomies, according to the most approved rules of Lavater, betokened the possession of the ameni- ties of life. Oar object in this was to be neighbourly and agreeable; holding it as a maxim as universal in its operation upon human nature as are the rays of the sun in the dispensing of heat, that civility is ever a better commander than rudeness, and love a better servitor than tear. We were also on the look-out for a couple of blankets to replace those w e had had stolen, and were so far fortumte as to get them before the close of the day. We were, besides, picking up stray crumbs of knowledge, which, you know, is a species oi riches easily carried and ready to be made available at a moment’s call. Amongst other things which v>e learned this day, was a rule which was made by the diggers themselves, and which is, that a claim is vacated when it is not worked for f° r ty “ eight hours ; but one may vacate his hole and return to it at any time by leaving a spade or pick-axe in possession. This is often done, and the hole and the property are always held sacred. The holes around us were scattered in all directions, running from ten to thirty feet deep. Some parties, which we found usually to consist of live, including the cook, often get disgusted with the work, and relinquish it at the depth of five or six feet, when it is not unusual for the men in the next hole to take possession and work out the claim j and where this has been the case frequently favourable results have ensued. » All the operations and implements connected with the searching for gold are exceedingly simple, but the rough hairy men which you see engaged in it here perform their duties with an earnestness scarcely to be imagined. They rock their cradles with all the serious- ness of the tailor of Fife, who had four twins in his, and scarcely anything to put in their mouths; every faculty of their minds being concentrated upon “ the one thing needful, ’ to enable them to realise the darling hobby of their existences, whatever that may be. Men who, all their lives, never knew what it was to have the smallest shade of gravity upon their brows, at once become metamorphosed into monks the mo- merit they take the rocking-stick in their hands. They become silent, solemn, and scrutinising; fixing their eyes upon the dirt they are washing with miser-like intensity, and altogether looking very unnatural in the sight of one who may be calmly surveying them. Alas that there should be so much care in seeking for that which “ maketh itself wings and flieth away, as an eagle toward heaven!” With the operation of cradling you are perhaps already acquainted: for the sake of others, however, I shall here describe it as clearly as I can. The instrument itself is about six or eight feet long, with its head covered with a coarse sieve, and its foot perforated w T ith a hole. To work this machine close to a stream or a water-hole it requires four men—one to dig, another to wheel, a third to rock, and a fourth to keep dashing the water on the earth to effect the sifting process. The sieve prevents the coarse stones from falling into the cradle, whilst the water gradually softens and washes away the earth, which is carried away by the foot of the ma- chine, leaving the particles of gold mixed with sand behind some small elects, which, at given intervals, are nailed across the bottom all the way down. W hen all the earth is washed away, the rocker and the washer cast their longing eyes into the sieve to see if there be a “ nugget” too large to get through the holes, and, if not, the sieve is displaced, and the stones thrown away. This is the process carried on from “ morn till dewy eveand, unless it were diamonds or pearls, we know of no other sparkling pieces of matter on the face of the earth which could excite such a careful and curious anxiety in the face of man. Their gaze into the sieve is full of the deepest interest, and the half-suppressed sigh which often immediately succeeds its conclusion, tells of the disappointment which still meets the expectations of the gold-seeker. As night is now approaching, and as we are all ready to commence operations to-morrow morning, I will here take the opportunity of inserting a summary of the news of the gold-fields and the rate of wages for labour to the end of September, 1852, which, up to my pre- sent writing, is the latest we have received. New gold-fields are being discovered every week, each surpassing the other in richness. The quantity brought by the weekly escort into Melbourne was about 80,000 ounces, and into Sydney about 10,000 ounces. There was no great scarcity of provisions, although flour was selling as high as £lO per ton at Melbourne; at the diggings at Mount Alex- By the Day. s. d. s. d. Stonemasons 8 0 to 8 6 Carpenters and joiners 7 0 9 0 Bricklayers 8 0 8 6 Masons’ and bricklayers’ labourers . . 7 0 9 0 Common spademen and other inferior building labourers 5 0 G 0 Plasterers 8 0 9 0 Painters and glaziers 8 6 9 0 ander and Bendigo, it was as high as from £8 to £lO per bag. Gold has been discovered in South Australia, which has caused a beneficial reaction in its affairs. The detention of vessels for want of hands is very lamentable. The shipping lying in Sydney harbour, including colonial whalers, amounted to 31,735 tons; in Hudson’s Bay, Port Phillip, there were 45,308 tons; in Adelaide, 8,422 tons; in King George’s Sound, 800 tons; making a total of 86,262 tons of shipping, irrespective of coasters lying at those different harbours of Australia. This is a ruinous state of things for ship-owners, and, we should say, demanding the immediate attention of the Government. RATE OF WAGES IN SYDNEY. The following statement has been compiled with great care ; and the rates of wages have been given by the principal employers in each department, as being those now actually paid, and every means has been used to avoid exaggeration. The trades and callings in Sydney are commenced with— Foremen and overseers of buildings . .10 0 15 0 Sawyers—12s. per 100 feet, superficial, soft wood. The earnings of hard-wood sawyers can scarcely be estimated, they being mostly paid by the truck system. Brickmakers—lBs. to 20s. per 1000 for the labour only of moulding, setting, and burning. Carters and draymen—lss. to 20s. per day. These are the chief divisions of labour required on buildings; and as it is a most important department, a few remarks are needful. It must, in the first place, be observed, that the above rates do not deter- mine the real value of the particular class of work, but simply what is paid for a particular class of labour. Most of the best artisans and labourers in the building-department are at the gold-fields; and the above rates, which, to each trade or calling, are nearly uniform, are now paid to men, the great majority of whom are third and fourth-rate hands. It is stated by the leading architects and contractors in the colony that barely one-third of the men now employed in Sydney are effective, or fairly entitled to more than one-half the wages demanded by them. We now proceed with the other departments of trades in Sydney. By the Day. s. d. s. d. Brassfounders 9 0 to 12 0 Engineers and millwrights 10 0 15 0 Ironfounders 90 100 Millers 100 13 0 Shipwrights 12 0 150 Tin-plate-workers 90 100 Watchmakers 100 20 0 Whitesmiths 80. 90 Blacksmiths ..., 90 100 Wheelwrights 10 6 12 0 Coopers, piece-work, averaging ... 10 6 20 0 Coach-builders 90 120 Cabinet-makers 106 120 First-rate hands will only take piece-work, at which they are now earning from £4 4s. to £6 10s. per week. By the Day. s. d. s. d. Upholsterers 8 0 to 10 0 French polishers 80 100 Labourers on wharves 100 120 Tailors, first class 10 0 20 0 Ditto, second class 7 0 9 0 Ditto, third class 5 0 0 0 Porters to ware-rooms, £1 a-week, with board and lodgings. Shoemakers, piece-work, as follows : d. s. d. W'ellingtons, closing 8 0 making 14 0 Princes „ 5 6 „ 10 0 Cossacks „ 3 9 „ 8 6 Strong kid „ 10 „ 0 6 Shoes closing and making 7 0 Ladies’ shoemakers are not to be procured. By the Day. s. d. s. d. Butchers 8 0 to 10 6 Bakers 90 126 Gardeners (town) 60 70 Compositors 120 Pressmen 12 0 Both compositors and pressmen get Is. 6d. an hour overtime. On the morning papers most of the work is done by piece. The price for brevier Is. 3d. per thousand, for nonpareil Is. Cd. per thousand. In the rural districts the following rates of wages are now given ; the great difficulty in procuring effective labourers which prevails in Sydney being still greater in the pastoral and agricultural districts. Shepherds, single men, £25 to £3O per annum, with rations; mar- ried, £33 to £l2 ditto. Stock-keepers, the same. Bullock-drivers, £3O to £4O per annum. Farm-labourers, £26 to £35 per ditto. Shearers, 3s. to 3s. 6d. a-score, with rations. Butchers, £7B to £l2O per annum, with rations and quarters. Gardeners, £35 to £42, with ditto. Hut-keepers, £lB to £24, with ditto. Ploughmen, £3O to £39, with ditto. House-servants, in town or country, £26 to £32 per annum. Families of good conduct obtain ready and remunerative employment in every department. First-rate needle-women earn at piece-work, from £1 16s, to £2 2s. per week. Ordinary sempstresses receive from 10s. to 15s. per week at day-work, and have all their meal's provided for them. House-servants obtain from £ll to £3O per annum. This, then, is the present state of the labour-market in the towns and pastoral and agricultural districts of this gold-producing land; and although the rates of labour are marked as belonging to the colony of New South Wales, they may be taken equally as belonging to Victoria. The following extract from a private letter from Melbourne, bearing date the 2nd September, 1852, details the latest prices of vegetables and provisions in that portion of the colonies : The number of persons that arrived in Melbourne last week was 4,283; who left it, 390; leaving an addition to our population, in one week, of 3,893. Everybody now is doing well that the weather will permit to do anything. In nearly every shop, such as a tailor’s, there is a bill up with “30 good hands wanted;” carpenters are advertised as being wanted, wages £l per day ; dressmakers and milliners in pro- portion, and more than they can do. Pastrycooks are making small fortunes from mere wedding-cakes, one about six or eight inches diameter costing £4 or £5; if it is £4 the digger throws down a£s note, and takes a handful of gingerbread-nuts as change. Land, like everything else, is fetching great prices, particularly in or near town. Some in one of the best situations in the city fetched £2lO per foot frontage, 38 feet deep; this was last week. The private escort arrived in town at 2 o’clock this morning, bringing 32,000 ounces. The Government one is not yet in. Market prices last week:—Cauliflowers, Is. each ; cab- bages, Is.; turnips, 4s. per dozen; carrots, 3s. per dozen; parsnips, 45.; onions, 4d. per lb.; potatoes, 12s. per cwt,; new ditto, Gd.per lb.; green peas, Is. 3d. per quart, unshelled; turkeys, 20s. each; geese, the same; ducks, 12s, per pair; fowls, the same; eggs, 3s. per dozen, coming down; butter, 3s. Gd. per lb., also much lower than it has been; mutton or beef, 6d. per lb.; beef is expected to be Is. in the course of a month or so; pork and bacon, 2s. per lb.; ham, 35.; bread, 4d. per lb.; English cheese, 2s. Gd.; milk (and water), Is. 4d. per quart; one “pennorth” of watercresses, Is. Gd.; radishes, Is. per dozen; “three- pennyworth” of greens, 25.; a £2O house, £l5O, Such are the extraordinary prices in the labour, the growing and the raising markets in this wonderful country, to which we anxiously recommend you, the oppressed labour-population of these islands, to direct your steps without delay, that you may exchange toil without reward for work with independence, and enjoy, for the rest of your lives, the real luxury of what Freedom is, and no longer be the victims of “ poverty, hunger, and dirt,” with which you continue for ever to be here bound by your delusive position. When you go, however, go like men. Throw away the bottle and the pot. Go at your work with the determination to raise still higher the British name, and Fear, Disap- pointment, or Sorrow, will not dare to look ye in the face. 3 1508 01181454 3 SELECT SERIES OF GIFT BOOKS FOR THE SONS AND DAUGHTERS OF ENGLAND. “ Works of imagination might be made the most powerful of all human agencies in promoting virtue and religion; and yet, through perversion, they are often the channels for conveying the most wide-spread and pernicious poisons.” The above extract, from the pen of Miss Catherine Beecher (the talented sister of Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe) is, perhaps, a sufficient prospectus of this Series, and will serve to point the character of all books introduced into it. THE WIDE, WIDE WORLD. Author’s Edition. Another great American tale. Ornamental boards, with Illustrated Title-page and Frontispiece, Is. 6d., or cloth 25., or if sent by post, 6d. additional. “THE WIDE, WIDE WORLD.” By Elizabeth Wetheeell. The Authoress has a direct Interest in the Sale of this Volume. THE TELL-TALE, OR SKETCHES OF DOMESTIC LIFE IN THE UNITED STATES. By H. Trusta, author of “The Sunny Side” and “A Peep at Number Five;” containing, What sent One Husband to California, The First Cross Word, &c. Price One Shilling, ornamental boards. THE SUNNY SIDE, AND A PEEP AT NUMBER FIVE. By the same Author. Just ready, in one volume, price One Shilling. DOLLARS AND CENTS, By Amy Lothrop. A thick volume, price One Shilling and Six Pence. CLOVERNOOK. By Alice Carey. Ornamental Boards, Price One Shilling and Sixpence. Ask for CLARKE, BEETON, & CO.’s Editions. Now Publishing, in Penny Weekly Numbers, uniform with the People s Illustrated Editions of “ Uncle Tom’s Cabin” and “ The White Slave,” THE GOLD-FINDER OP AUSTRALIA; or, HOW HE WENT, HOW HE FARED, AND HOW HE MADE HIS FORTUNE. This work will contain all the information relative to the Australian Gold-Fields, down to the latest arrival of news, whilst it will fully detail the adventures of one who has encountered all the difficulties, and been an actor in many of the scenes, incident to the search for gold in that country. It also will describe the nature of the climate, the soil, its vegetation and zoology; the mode of farming, and management of stock; the manners and customs of the original inhabitants and settlers; and will give every information, to the minutest particular, that may be deemed valuable to the intending Emigrant. It will be illustrated by a beautiful frontispiece from a design by Bryant, and TWENTY- FOUR SPLENDID ENGRAVINGS, taken from drawings made on the spot, and, altogether, will form the CHEAPEST, BEST, and MOST COMPLETE work which has yet appeared upon the AUSTRALIAN COLONIES. THE ILLUSTRATED LITERATURE OF ALL NATIONS. *. d. d. A Sentimental Journey, by Sterne 0 6 Joan of Naples, by Mole-Gentilhomme 0 7 Marquis of Letoriere, by Eugene Sue. 0 5 Sorrows of Wetter, by Goethe 0 4 Marquis of Letoriere, by Eugene Sue. 0 The vicar of Wakefield, by Goldsmith 0 Prisoner of Austria, by S. Pellioo 0 Nell Gwynne, by Amedde de Bast 0 Gulliver’s Travels, by Swift 0 Devil on Two Sticks, by Le Sage 0 Mary, Queen of Scots, by A. Dumas ... 0 Lionel Lincoln (2 parts), by Cooper ... 1 The Nun, by Diderot 0 5 Ourika, and a Journey Round my Room 0 3 A Simple Story, by Mrs. Inohbald 0 10 The Gold Mine, by Elie Berthet 0 6 Masaniello, by Eugene de Mirecourt ... 0 6 Undine, by Lamotte Fouqud 0 4 Lazarillo, the Spanish Rogue, by Mendoza 0 4 The above list of Illustrated Works forms the best and cheapest scries of amusing books that the intending emigrant can take out. THE ENGLISHWOMAN’S DOMESTIC MAGAZINE. Price Twopence, Monthly. Are the ladies aware that this is the best and cheapest Magazine, containing: Instructions in Dressmaking, Embroidery, Crochet, Braiding, Dancing, and every Accomplishment calculated to Improve and Elevate the Female character; also. Original Tales, Anecdotes and Poetry, Receipts for Cookery, the Sick Room and Nur- sery, Management of Household Pets; whilst CUPID’S LETTER-BAG and the SYBILLINE INTERPRETER create no end of fun and entertainment. Illustrated with first-rate Engravings. . * * Complaints having been made to the Publishers that Ladies are unable to obtain the early Numbers, they beg to state that Nos. I. to IX. are now Re-printed. Sub- scribers are invited to give their orders at once to their Booksellers, so that they may not lose this opportunity of obtaining one of the TWENTY-FIV E ELEGANT GOLD WATCHES, to be given away with the first volume, which will be completed with the issue of No. XII. OLA EKE, BEETON, & CO., Foreign Booksellers, 148, Fleet-street. UNCLE TOM’S CABIN. “A KEY TO UNCLE TOM’S CABIN.” Shortly Jwill appear a New Work, by Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe, entitled “A KEY TO UNCLE TOM’S CABIN,” presenting various Original Facts and Documents, upon which the Story is founded, together with other Incidents corroborating the Statements of the Book ; as also a Survey ot the Slave Laws of the Southern States of America, the practice and decisions of the Courts under those Laws, and a great variety of matter as fcdl of thrilling interest as “ Uncle Tom’s Cabin” itself. TO THE READERS OP “ UNCLE TOM'S CABIN.” In announcing for publication the “ KEY TO UNCLE TOM’S CABIN,” we think it a fitting opportunity to express the gratification we have experienced in having been already enabled (by the large sale of our Editions of “Uncle Tom’s Cabin”) to present Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe with the sum of 2,500 dollars; and we beg to reiterate our former statement that the talented Author has always had, and still possesses, an actual and positive interest in the sale of every Volume of our various Editions. Price 7s. 6 d., containing a highly-finished Portrait of the Author, THE ILLUSTRATED EDITION OF “ UNCLE TOM’S CABIN.” THE GIFT BOOK OF THE AGE. This Edition is Illustrated wdth 40 Splendid Engravings, elegantly bound and gilt, and printed in large type; forming the most magnificent present book of the age. Price 2s. 6 d., containing a highly-finished Portrait of the Author, THE ORIGINAL ENGLISH EDITION, printed in large type, and beautifully embellished. Price I*., containing a highly-finished Portrait of the Author, THE RAILWAY EDITION. This Edition is the best of t cheap editions published, containing Vignette, and a New Preface by Mrs. H. B. Sto Price 6 d., unabridged, THE POCKET EDITION FOR THE MILLION. This tion is beautifully printed in Nonpareil, Double Columns, and is published to proven the introduction of spurious or mutilated copies. Price 45., the Cheapest Book ever published, THE PEOPLE’S ILLUSTRATED EDITION. In one hand- somely-bound Bvo Volume, containing 50 Illustrations. This Edition may be had in Penny Numbers. Each Number contains two splendid page Engravings, and sixteen pages of Letterpress, printed in large Type. The whole may also be had complete in twenty-five Numbers; or in six Parts, at Sixpence each. *#* To Booksellers, Philanthropists, Societies, or Exporters, who wish to purchase any of the above Editions by the thousand, for sale or distribution, a liberal discount will be made. THE WHITE SLAVE. The People’s Illustrated Edition, Uniform with “ Uncle Tom’s Cabin,” and published weekly in Penny Numbers, to be completed in about twenty Numbers, ten of which are now ready. Each number con- tains two splendid Engravings, exhibiting the cruel phases incidental to a slave life. THE WHITE SLAVE. The Railway Edition. Illustrated with Eight Engravings, with Important Notes from American and other authorities; illustrative of the awful system of slavery. Neatly bound in ornamental boards, price Is. Be careful to ask for Clarke’s Edition with Notes. THE CABIN AND THE PARLOUR; or, SLAVES AND MASTERS. This day is published, price Three Shillings and Sixpence, cloth, “THE CABIN AND THE PARLOUR; or, SLAVES AND MASTERS.” By J. Thorn- ton Randolph. As compared with “Uncle Tom’s Cabin,” this book takes a different view of the great and absorbing question of American slavery, and it has been published -in order to remove any ground of complaint that the British public have no fair oppor- tunity of deciding between the two great parties which at present distract America upon the subject of the emancipation of the negro. STATUETTE OF UNCLE TOM.—A highly-finished STA TUETTE of UNCLE TOM in Bronze (size 14 inches) has been modelled by Caelexoi Macaetht, Esq., forming a companion to the “ Greek Slave.”—Price to Subscriber! £2 12s. 6d. Now ready. CLARKE, BEETON, & CO., Foreign Booksellers, 148, Fleet-street.