The diggings themselves are comparatively safe - quite as much
so as Melbourne itself - and there is a freemasonry in the bush which
possesses an irresistible charm for adventurous bachelors, and causes
them to prefer the risk of bushrangers to witnessing the dreadful
scenes that are daily and hourly enacting in a colonial town. Life in
the bush is wild, free and independent. Healthy exercise, fine scenery,
and a clear and buoyant atmosphere, maintain an excitement of the
spirits and a sanguineness of temperament peculiar to this sort of
existence; and many are the pleasant evenings, enlivened with the gay
jest or cheerful song, which are passed around the bush fires of
Australia.
The latest accounts from the diggings speak of them most encouragingly.
Out of a population of 200,000 (which is calculated to be the number of
the present inhabitants of Victoria), half are said to be at the
gold-fields, and the average earnings are still reckoned at
nearly an ounce per man per week. Ballarat is again rising into favour,
and its riches are being more fully developed. The gold there is more
unequally distributed than at Mount Alexander, and therefore the
proportion of successful to unsuccessful diggers is not so great as at
the latter place. But then the individual gains are in some cases
greater. The labour is also more severe than at the Mount or Bendigo,
as the gold lies deeper, and more numerous trials have to be made
before the deposits are struck upon.
The Ovens is admitted to be a rich gold-field, but the work there is
severely laborious, owing to a super-abundance of water.
The astonishing mineral wealth of Mount Alexander is evidenced by the
large amounts which it continues to yield, notwithstanding the immense
quantities that have already been taken from it. The whole country in
that neighbourhood appears to be more or less auriferous.
Up to the close of last year the total supposed amount of gold procured
from the Victoria diggings, is 3,998,324 ounces, which, when calculated
at the average English value of 4 pounds an ounce, is worth nearly SIXTEEN
MILLIONS STERLING. One-third of this is distinctly authenticated as
having come down by escort during the three last mouths of 1852.
In Melbourne the extremes of wealth and poverty meet, and many are the
anecdotes of the lavish expenditure of successful diggers that are
circulated throughout the town. I shall only relate two which fell
under my own observation.
Having occasion to make a few purchases in the linen drapery line, I
entered a good establishment in Collins Street for that purpose. It was
before noon, for later in the day the shops are so full that to get a
trifling order attended to would be almost a miracle. There was only
one customer in the shop, who was standing beside the counter, gazing
with extreme dissatisfaction upon a quantity of goods of various
colours and materials that lay there for his inspection. He was
a rough-looking customer enough, and the appearance of his hands gave
strong indication that the pickaxe and spade were among the last tools
he had handled.
"It's a SHINY thing that I want," he was saying as I entered.
"These are what we should call shining goods," said the shopman, as he
held up the silks, alpacas, &c., to the light.
"They're not the SHINY sort that I want," pursued the digger,
half-doggedly, half-angrily. "I'll find another shop; I guess you won't
show your best goods to me - you think, mayhap, I can't pay for them - but
I can, though," and he laid a note for fifty pounds upon the counter,
adding, "maybe you'll show me some SHINY stuff now!"
Unable to comprehend the wishes of his customer, the shopman called to
his assistance the master of the establishment, who being, I suppose,
of quicker apprehension, placed some satins before him.
"I thought the paper would help you find it. I want a gown for my
missus. What's the price?"
"Twenty yards at one-ten - thirty pounds. That do, Sir?"
"No; not good enough!" was the energetic reply.
The shrewd shopkeeper quickly fathomed his customer's desires, and now
displayed before him a rich orange-coloured satin, which elicited an
exclamation of delight.
"Twenty-five yards - couldn't sell less, it's a remnant - at three pounds
the yard."
"That's the go!" interrupted the digger, throwing some more notes upon
the counter. "My missus was married in a cotton gown, and now she'll
have a real gold 'un!"
And seizing the satin from the shopkeeper, he twisted up the portion
that had been unrolled for his inspection, placed the whole under his
arm, and triumphantly walked out of the shop, little thinking how he
had been cheated.
"A 'lucky digger' that," observed the shopman, as he attended to my
wants.
I could not forbear a smile, for I pictured to myself the digger's wife
mixing a damper with the sleeves of her dazzling satin dress tucked up
above her elbows.
A few days after, a heavy shower drove me to take shelter in a
pastry-cook's, where, under the pretence of eating a bun, I escaped a
good drenching. Hardly had I been seated five minutes, when a
sailor-looking personage entered, and addressed the shopwoman with:
"I'm agoing to be spliced to-morrow, young woman; show us some large
wedding-cakes."
The largest (which was but a small one) was placed before him, and
eighteen pounds demanded for it. He laid down four five-pound notes
upon the counter, and taking up the cake, told her to "keep the change
to buy ribbons with."
"Pleasant to have plenty of gold-digging friends," I remarked, by way
of saying something.
