Of course I went to see the lucky mine. We had to walk along a main tunnel, three-quarters of a mile long, all lighted with gas, and the whole roof sparkling with tiny green stars—the lamps of a very ugly worm (not our glow-worm). From this main tunnel shafts descend to the different mines, and, in some cases, side drives diverge. The latter, being easier of access, suited me best, and answered the purpose as well. I went into various burrows, where the men were hard at work—generally two in partnership; and some nice lads worked extra hard (with pickaxe) to try and find a scrap of gold for me. Then we went to see the batteries where the quartz is crushed and the gold extracted by various processes (all this by mighty machinery). But the most powerful of all is the huge pump, whose shaft is 650 feet deep, and which pumps all the mines. The water deposits silica in such quantities that the great tubes are coated every few days with an incrustation about an inch thick, that has to be removed with a chisel. A good deal of the gold can only be got by pounding the quartz till it becomes white mud (through which quicksilver is run to amalgamate the gold). Then the quicksilver is boiled and distilled, and it passes off in steam, leaving the gold pure. The gold is brought to the bank to be melted again and made into bricks. I was there yesterday when 12,000 ounces were brought in, in six lumps larger than a man’s head. They had to be broken up with wedge and sledge-hammer, into pieces small enough for the melting-pot, out of which the red gold was poured, when liquid, into moulds, already greased—or rather oiled—which oil blazed up; and then the mould was cooled in water, and the golden brick produced. I said red gold,—for so it looked when melted; but the bricks are sickly-looking, owing to the amount of silver in the ore—30 per cent. So much for the gold which has produced this big baby town; but the town itself astonishes me most, as the growth of eight years—a large town, stretching along the shore for two miles; and apart from the huge batteries and chimneys and mining buildings of all sorts, it is quite a pleasant town,—great part of it built on land actually reclaimed from the sea by the mining-stuff thrown out (clean quartz and sandstone). Every miner has a nice house and garden, quantities of fruit and flowers, and generally a tidy wife and family.