A Lady's Visit to the Gold Diggings of Australia in 1852-53Clacy, Charles, Mrs.
History
A Lady's Visit to the Gold Diggings of Australia in 1852-53
Clacy, Charles, Mrs.
Australia -- Description and travel; Gold mines and mining -- Australia
Hay was somewhere about 20 pounds a ton in Melbourne. The carriage of it
to Kyneton, now that the fine weather was setting in, would not exceed 8
pounds a ton at the outside, which would come to 28 pounds. The purchaser,
by selling it at Kyneton at the rate of 9d. a pound, or 75 pounds per ton,
cleared a profit of 47 pounds--NOT QUITE 200 PER CENT. If THIS is not
fortune-making, I should like to know what is. It beats the diggings
hollow.
Next morning we looked our last at "sweet Carlshrue," and
having crossed the Five Mile Creek, camped for our mid-day meal beside
the Black Forest. Here a slight discussion arose, as to whether it
would be more advisable to proceed on our journey and camp in the Black
Forest that night, or whether we should remain where we were outside,
and recommence our journey in good time the next morning so as to get
through this most uncomfortable portion of our travels in one day.
Frank and Octavius were for the latter plan, as the best and safest,
but the rest (thinking that, having once travelled through it without
encountering any thing resembling a bushranger, they might safely do so
again) protested against wasting time, and were for entering those dark
shades without further delay. The uncle of Octavius whom, in future,
for the sake of convenience, I shall call Mr. L----, was also of this
mind, and as he was in some sort our leader during the journey, his
advice decided the matter. Danger to him was only a necessary
excitement. He was naturally fearless, and his merry laugh and gay joke
at the expense of the bushranger fearing party gradually dissipated the
unaccountable presentiment of danger which I for one had in no
small degree experienced.
On we went, up hill and down dale, sometimes coming to a more open
piece of ground, but more generally threading our way amid a very maze
of trees, with trunks all black as the ground itself, whilst the dingy
foliage and the few rays of sunshine that lit up those dark, deep
glades served only to heighten the gloominess around.
After walking for about six miles--I preferred that mode of getting
along to the joltings of the dray--we all felt disposed to rest
ourselves. We selected a spot where the trees were less thickly
clustered, and taking the horses out of the dray, tethered them by
strong ropes to some trees near. The dray itself was turned up, and a
blanket thrown over the up-raised shafts formed a most complete and
cosy little tent.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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