It is a rather novel sensation to find that you are dead; and this was
our experience, for the papers had killed us some time since - our bones
had been seen bleaching in the sun, and all that sort of thing.
Unfortunately our death was not certain enough to warrant any obituary
notices, which might have been interesting reading.
On our return to Perth, the manager of the company for which we had
worked, who had arrived in our absence, far from thanking us for having
tried our best, asked why we went into a d - - d desert to look for gold!
This we considered a little mean, seeing that a great part of the country
we had traversed had been hitherto unexplored. However, one doesn't look
for thanks from a mining company. So our journey was finished - a journey
that I shall never look back upon with regret, but with pleasure, for Luck
was a fine fellow and the best of mates; and at least we had the
satisfaction of knowing that if we had been unsuccessful, it was not for
the want of trying.
PART III SECOND PROSPECTING EXPEDITION
CHAPTER I
THE JOYS OF PORTABLE CONDENSERS
November 8, 1894, was a red-letter day in the history of Coolgardie, for
on that date the foundation-stone of the first brick building was laid by
Mr. James Shaw, the mayor. Under the stone was deposited a specimen of
each coin of the realm, and these, by the way, were purloined in the
night. This great day was made the occasion for feasting and jubilation,
the feasting taking the not uncommon form of a gigantic "Champagne Spree,"
to which the whole town was invited.
When once a wave of inebriety swept over the settlement, something a
little out of the ordinary was likely to occur. Fights and rows would be
started with the most bloodthirsty intentions, only to end in peace and
harmony after the swearing of eternal friendships. A good fight in
Coolgardie in those days would attract as much attention as a cab accident
in the streets of London. The well-known cry of "A fight! a fight!" would
bring the greater part of the population from their dwellings - from
stores, banks, offices, bars, an excited and rushing crowd would hurry
to the scene of the fray, all eager to witness a good row; they were not,
as a rule, disappointed, for, as one fight usually breeds several, a fair
afternoon's or morning's entertainment could be safely counted on.
A mining community must have excitement; even a dog-fight would command a
considerable amount of interest.
On the celebrated night of the laying of the foundation stone I had the
pleasure of witnessing a rough-and-tumble fight between two of the most
powerful men in Coolgardie. The excitement was intense as one seized his
antagonist, and, using him as a flail, proceeded to clear the room with
him; he retaliated by overpowering the other man, and finally breaking his
leg as they fell heavily together out through the door on to the hard
street beyond. How much ill-feeling this little incident engendered may be
judged from the fact that the maimed man was employed by his late
adversary as clerk until his limb mended, and subsequently held the billet
for many months.
It was my misfortune to be engaged in organising a prospecting expedition
at this time - misfortune, because of the impossibility of getting any one
to attend to business. Camels had to be bought, and provisions and
equipment attended to. A syndicate had engaged my services and those of
my two companions whom I had chosen in Perth: Jim Conley, a fine, sturdy
American from Kentucky, the one; and Paddy Egan, an Irish-Victorian, the
other. Both had been some time on the fields, and Conley had had previous
experience in South Africa and on the Yukon, where he had negotiated the
now famous Chilcoot Pass without realising that it was the tremendous feat
that present-day travellers represent it to be.
There are few men more entertaining than diggers, when one can get them to
talk; there is hardly a corner of the habitable globe to which they have
not penetrated. Round a camp-fire one will hear tales of Africa, New
Guinea, New Zealand, Australia, America from Alaska to the Horn,
Madagascar, and other strange countries that would be a mine of
information to a writer of books of adventure - tales told in the main with
truth and accuracy, and in the quiet, unostentatious manner of the
habitual digger to whom poverty, riches, and hardships come all in their
turn as a matter of course.
Having chosen my mates, the next thing to be done was to procure beasts of
burden. Of numerous camels submitted for inspection I took three, which
were subsequently christened "Czar," "Satan," and "Misery" respectively;
the first from his noble and king-like mien, the second from his wild and
exceedingly unpleasant habit of kicking and striking - habits due not to
vice but to the nervousness of youth - and the third from his plaintive
remonstrances and sad-eyed looks of reproach as his saddle and load were
placed on his back.
The price of a good pack-camel then varied from 60 pounds to 80
pounds - and such prices as 100 pounds to 130 pounds were given for
first-class riding-camels. For South Australian-bred camels, the
descendants of stock originally imported from India by Sir Thomas Elder
some thirty years ago, a higher price was asked than for those brought
into the Colony direct from Kurrachi; and rightly, for there can be no
doubt but that in size, strength, and endurance, the camel of Australian
birth is far ahead of his old-world cousin.
