THE BLACK POLICE IN QUEENSLAND
REMINISCENCES
OF OFFICIAL
WORK
AND
PERSONAL ADVENTURES IN
THE EARLY
DAYS OF THE COLONY
BY EDWARD
B. KENNEDY
1902
“Far as
the breeze can bear
The
billows’ foam, survey
our Empire.”
I
venture to think that the following account of some of my
early Colonial
experiences may interest the British Public, and also my old
friends of those
days.
The
first, because everything connected with our Colonies has
excited unusual
interest since the opening of the South African War, and
Queensland, Great
Britain and Ireland’s youngest and perhaps most progressive
possession, has,
together with her sister Colonies, come nobly and grandly to
the front at the
Call to Arms.
The
second, because these reminiscences, slightly to paraphrase an
old song, will
remind “Old bushmates of days that are past,” of “Sunny days-
our later
Queensland toast.
The
two pen-and-ink drawings speak for themselves, but a pathetic
interest is added
to them from the fact of their having been executed by the
hand of the late Sir
Frank Lockwood. During a visit home, connected with business,
I mentioned to
him, then Mr. Lockwood, that I had got along fairly well with
the black “boys.”
Also, that having visited New Zealand for a few days, I had
been informed that
the Maoris were “now quite civilised.” The result was that I
received the two
humorous illustrations bearing the artist’s remarks which
appear at p 266.
I am
indebted to Messrs. J. Spiller, P. Mennell, and Hubert
Garroway for many of the
photographs of “The Black Police of Queensland” which have
been reproduced to
illustrate this book. Those referring to the 1860s are from
originals given to
me in those old days; old pictures which I have never thought
would reproduce,
but in my publisher’s hands they have come out as clearly and
truthfully as on
the day they were first taken.
The
photographs of Chillagoe, District of Cairns, I insert to give
an idea of what
some portions of a rocky barrier in Queensland are like, for I
have never been
so far north. Chillagoe lies some thousand miles northwest of
Brisbane.
This
district is famous for its stalacite caves and waterfalls; one
of the latter,
named “The Barron,” has a fall seven hundred feet.
Though
in two or three cases I have not given the real names of
certain individuals,
and in one instance, have altered the locality of a district,
yet the incidents
throughout these pages are my own experiences. Where I quote,
I mention the
fact, as in Chapter XI. As stated, I heard the account from
Blake’s own lips.
So I
launch my story of the Land of the Queen, where I spent some
of my earliest and
happiest days.
EARLY
DAYS IN QUEENSLAND
Early days in Queensland – Colonial Experience – Somerset Land Sale- “Tickets for Soup”- Visit to a Cattle Station- My Friend the Parson- Tame Blacks- A Sable Orator- A Glance at the Duties of the Queensland Native Police- The Gentleman “Cabby.”
Queensland
has nobly come forward, together with her sister Colonies, to
fight for the old
country during the present war; and as I have lived there for
some years during
the period of her earlier history- she separated from New
South Wales in 1859,
whilst I landed in Moreton Bay in 1864- I feel that I may
offer at the present
date a few notes concerning the history of the Colony during
those early days
and further place on record certain incidents and experiences
which befell me,
especially during the time which I served in the more northern
parts of the
Colony in the Native Mounted Police, or “Black Police,” for by
this name the
force was often known. In the reminiscences, I by no means
rely entirely upon
memory, for I still retain my old Queensland diaries, together
with some
official papers connected with the force in which I served.
I
will describe this force, together with the life I led in it,
more fully in
subsequent chapters, and though I have some of my old Slater’s
diaries to fall
back upon, yet I can remember without external aid many
scenes, incidents, and
names of men, connected with those days better than I can
sometimes call to
mind events of last week and people’s names of later periods.
I take it that
the simple reason is that a “new chum,” having landed in a new
country and not
long out of his teens has every incident vividly and lastingly
impressed on his
memory.
It is
obvious that great changes have occurred in this go-ahead
Colony since the
1860s. Civilisation has made enormous strides, and a vast
extent of country,
especially the coast line extending right up to the Gulf, is
now under tillage.
Most of this was formerly waste land.
During
the many years that I have been at home, I have so often been
questioned as to
the area of Queensland, and what the life was like, that I
will endeavour to
put into writing answers to these and other questions, which,
in all important
details, will apply to the present year of Grace.
It is
not an idle boast to state that Queensland is one of the
largest of the British
Colonies, possessing as it does an area of 668,000 square
miles- five times the
size of the United Kingdom. The Colony comprises the whole
northeastern portion
of the Australian continent. It may also be remarked that some
of the
settlements in the interior are over 600 miles from the
capital, Brisbane. This
will give some idea of the extent of country within her
limits.
The
population on December 31st, 1867, was 100,000, and
on December 31st,
1899, 512,604.
When
the emigrants first came out under the agency of Mr. Jordan,
labour was in
great demand- in fact, for a longtime the supply was not equal
to the demand,
so large were the orders from the country. Some of the
emigrants brought money
with them, and commenced business in the towns, so that houses
and land rents
advanced, and buildings were put up; but the temporary
prosperity- for so it
could only be called- which existed at the time, was mainly
due to the
expenditure of borrowed capital in the construction of public
works. Many of
these public works were certainly of doubtful necessity, but
any permanent
benefit, with a view to consolidating the Colony, and giving
inducement to the
people to settle on the lands, was scarcely thought of. Those
who attempted
farming at that time were ruined- not ruined from natural
causes, but because
the land laws of that period obliged the farmer to spend all
his capital at one
fell blow in purchase money and fencing.
Emigrants
still poured in with every ship, but latterly, during the
1860s, and shortly
before emigration was stopped, of what class? Chiefly the
refuse and scum of
London and the manufacturing towns, who landed on Queensland
shores totally
devoid both of capital and character. I think I saw the
biggest lot of roughs
landed in a port north of Brisbane that I had ever seen in my
life, trooping
out of a ship. They were no sooner ashore than they formed
rings in the one
street of the township and stripped to fight; whilst in the
bars of the
settlement, they relieved the inhabitants of their watches and
money, merely to
show their proficiency, however, and “how it was done,” for
they immediately
returned the spoil to their owners. One man told me it was a
very interesting
experiment, but “paltry easy, ‘cos, you see, ‘taint
pocket-pickin’; you carries
your paper money and watches on your belts.”
About
the time that influences such as these were in themselves
injuring the Colony,
the Government supplies were suddenly stopped by the failure
of the Agra and
Masterman’s banks, followed by the suspension of the Bank of
Queensland, which
caused the failure of numbers in both town and country, not
only crippling the
Government, but causing thousands to lose appointments, and
suddenly stopping
almost all the salaries. A reckless system had been going on
of working on
credit, and, of course, all this was sufficient and more than
sufficient to
bring on the serious consequences which ensued, and in
Brisbane there was even
an attempt at a bread riot. It was the old story of a new
country, and when the
smash came, the Colony found itself with a numerous unemployed
and destitute
population, a variety of expensive public works unfinished, an
empty exchequer,
and a heavy debt.
However,
the tide turned at last, no matter how sluggishly, and a
slight change for the
better took place. The check had the effect of inducing many
persons to reduce
their indebtedness before undertaking fresh liabilities, and
thus producing a
sounder and more healthy state of trade.
The
facilities which the insolvency laws afforded for applying the
“white-washing”
process in an easy manner encouraged the growth of a class of
“mushroom
traders,” without capital. This evil cured itself, and people
found that it was
not always safe to run into debt without being able to pay.
Some
progress, too, was made in farming, and it soon proved, by
repeated experiments
of the most conclusive nature, that Queensland could grow
sugar as well and
better that the West India Islands, wheat as well as Chili or
California, and
cotton as well as the southern States of America.
Thus
it was evident that the best way to secure the future
prosperity of the country
was to apply the lands of the Colony to agricultural purposes,
and by a liberal
land law to induce the people to settle on these lands; thus
giving a start to
a settled population who, by growing sugar and cotton, wheat,
and ordinary farm
produce, would save many thousands of pounds sent annually out
of the Colony
for these articles.
This
conviction being energetically advanced by the Press led to
the Government
passing an Act, which has been superseded by better ones
since. This first Act,
however, was the first real movement towards redeeming the
land in the settled
districts from the squatter, and applying it to more
profitable purposes; also
many miles in the district, some of them set apart for
railways, were
proclaimed as open for free selection for agricultural
purposes.
I
think it is hardly necessary to follow up the growth of this
grand Colony.
Suffice it to say, what every one should be aware of, that
Queensland has made
giant strides since those days of struggle, and now bids fair,
from being the
youngest of the Australian colonies, and so favoured by
nature, to take a
strong lead, especially in the direction of tropical
productions.
[I
expressed my decided views, shared by all sugar-growers of
tropical Queensland,
against the present labour policy of the Commonwealth with
regard to that crop,
in the following letter published in the British
Australian of 31
October 1901:
“Sir,-I have followed with
interest certain
statements in the daily papers connected with the struggle
which is now going
on in Australia between those on the one hand who wish to
retain their sugar
plantations as a going concern by means of the coloured
labour which they have
always employed, on the other by individuals who know but
little of the
practical working and inner life of the canefields.
How many of these, whose object,
if carried out,
would spell ruin in the Queensland sugar industry, have ever
tried their hand
at ‘trashing’ cane themselves in the northern parts of that
Colony?
I mention that portion because I
was there myself
for some years during the sixties, and into the seventies,
and growing sugar.
But better than my own small experience, I prefer to quote
remarks exchanged
between myself and one of the greatest and most successful
pioneers of sugar in
Northern Queensland, Mr. John Spiller, whose plantations
were only divided by a
river from that of mine and my partner’s, and with whom I
have been staying
lately in England. We had seen it proved that planting and
hoeing cane was
deadly enough work for white man, but trashing!-this proved
the ‘dead finish.’
It is, of course, an old story
for planters, but let
the ‘New Chum’ endeavour to picture the following
description: A dense jungle
of Bourbon or other canes. Overhead, anything from 120 up in
the sun. Inside, a
furnace of shade, with not a breath of air; but worse was to
follow, for every
leaf that one tears away of ‘trashes’ liberates a host of
invisible spikelets
of some description, which fasten upon the skin and set up a
horrible
irritation.
This subtle dart pierces even the
clothing which is
worn in those latitudes, but it touches not the velvety
epidermis of the naked
Kanaka, who laughs at such work, and is as much in his
element in this
suffocating prickly thickets as he would be were he sporting
instead in the
river near by.
One case in point will suffice,
and can be proved up
to the hilt, were proof required. Some forty white men,
diggers out of work,
came to the plantation of my friend and asked for a job at
anything. The place
was full up with hands, and they were told so, but were also
informed that they
might as extra men try ‘trashing’ if so inclined. They
jumped at the chance.
‘What! Pulling off leaves and good pay for it!’ But in a few
days out they came
and begged for any other job in the world. They then exposed
their arms,
chests, and backs, and wished further to exhibit their legs.
Their whole bodies
were in a state of inflamed eruption.
There is no exaggeration in these
statements, and
let any one deny them who can.
Now, ‘Australia for the White
Man,’ is a good and
sound enough motto, generally speaking, but let an exception
be made on
plantations, which, by the employment of coloured labour
chiefly, can thus only
be made to pay at all. I say, chiefly, because, after all,
is not one white man
required for every three blacks? Do not by a mistaken policy
ruin the sugar
pioneers of the grand Colony of Queensland. Spoil not your
ship for want of a
penn’orth of dark paint!
Yours etc.
E. B. Kennedy.”
It was during the sixties that a
great rush was made
by both large and small capitalists to buy Government land.
These allotments
were situated in towns and their suburbs, also on the coast
and inland
districts, often where there was no sign of a settlement, but
where the
Government surveyors had been at work, and the land
subsequently advertised for
sale. Sometimes, after selling the land, the Government would
desert the site
of the settlements which they had put up to auction. I give a
case to exemplify
this. On April 4, 1865, the first sale of Crown lands for the
new settlement of
Somerset took place in Brisbane. Somerset lies on the eastern
side of Cape
York, the most northern point of Australia, about eleven
degrees south of the
equator. The lots offered, seventy in number, were all town
lots and were
bought up with great eagerness at a very great advance on the
upset price,
which was fixed at £20 per acre. It averaged £149 per acre!
Such
was the excitement in connection with this sale that two old
squatters of my
acquaintance came hurrying out from England to be in time for
the bidding, for
was not Somerset to be the coaling depot and chief place of
call for the Torres
Straits line of steamers, and to be a free-trade port into the
bargain?
And
the result? Shortly after the sale, and before anything
further was done, the
Government shifted the port of call to Thursday Island and
entirely dropped
Somerset, owing to the fact, so we were told, that the harbour
of the latter
place was unsuitable for ships, which fact, one might think,
could have been
discovered before the sale. I have the names of all the
purchasers, seventy in
number, self included, and should be very glad to know whether
any one holding
title deeds of this Somerset Crown land sale could afford any
information in
the matter. It was indirectly owing to this rush for land
which caused me to
sail from England at the time I did, for one of the squatters
before mentioned,
whom I knew, suggested we should travel by the same ship. So
we came out in one
of the grand full-rigged clipper ships of that period, making
the run from
London to Moreton Bay in eighty-four days.
I
cannot say that my first experiences on arriving in Brisbane
were encouraging.
I had brought out the usual “tickets for soup,” better known
as letters of
introduction. The first one which I made use of introduced me
to a pecuniary
loss- a debt which I have long since “written off.” My idea of
what constitutes
a gentleman is thus summed up- a man who acts fairly to his
fellow creatures-
who, in fine, “plays the game.” No matter of what his birth or
parentage
consists, that man is a gentleman. But the “new chum” in any
Colony often finds
that his old country opinion is quite old-fashioned and
erroneous
classification. For all that, when he has once been bitten at
an early age,
provided that the wound is not deep, it will do him good and
make him more
careful all the rest of his life.
My
case can be stated very shortly. Armed with my letter, I was
received most
kindly and graciously by him to whom it was addressed- a man
of good old
English birth. One evening at dessert, he turned to me with a
benevolent smile.
“A
splendid chance is just open for a young man like you to
advance me a few
hundreds, for which I pay you a good interest, and, besides,
give you a
mortgage over the whole of my vineyards.”
Here
was indeed a good opening. I rose to it! Jumped at it! Signed
and sealed the
matter then and there, and the next day strolled in to a
solicitor of the town,
with the intention of leaving the rest of the business in his
hands.
“Well, you are a young soft! Why in
thunder didn’t
you come to me before you ‘parted’?” he stormed out,
when he heard my
story. “You have not got the first mortgage, I know for
certain, and I doubt if
you’ve even the second.”
So it
proved. I received some small interest paid irregularly; at
length this ceased,
and I stand a loser to the end of time for the greater part of
my first
investment. So I put away the rest of my “tickets,” and
determined to go up
country at the first opportunity. As luck would have it, I
made the acquaintance
of a genial squatter at the Queensland Club, who asked me to
stay a few days on
his station, which was situated some miles from Ipswich.
Together we proceeded,
doing the first part of the journey by steamer up the
“Brisbane,” or, rather,
the “Bremer,” River, as it is called above the capital, and
the latter part on
horseback.
This
was my first experience on a cattle station, and I spent a
most enjoyable time
in the society of my host and his family in their beautiful
broad verandahed
house, covered as it was with gorgeous creepers; the gardens
teeming with fruit
and vines. Kangaroos, which every new hand wishes to shoot,
were plentiful, and
I killed two fine ones the first day I went out with a sort of
revolver rifle
which was lent me; but I found out that, though my friends
were glad enough
that I should kill plenty, yet they did not want any portion
of those
marsupials, not even the tails, so I shot no more. I remember
that the old
squatter was extremely pleased that I always cleaned his
rifle, for he said
that his experience was that “new chums” never took any care
of his weapons.
Returning
to Brisbane, I became associated with a young parson, who had
had some
experience amongst the blacks of Victoria, but knew nothing of
the Queensland
aborigines. So, as I wished to see “blacks at home,” having so
far only met
with a specimen or so on a station, or the ever-present town
loafer begging for
“baccy,” we decided to ride off together and find a camp of
natives, who, we
were informed, were peaceably disposed and partly civilised,
in the
neighbourhood. Starting early one morning down the Sandgate
Road, on two sorry
jades which we hired from some livery stables, we reached the
encampment by
midday, following the course of a river according to the
instructions given to
us.
My
companion was an individual who combined the qualities of
modesty with
manliness, a pleasing combination in any country. He informed
me during the
ride that he had only lately arrived in Queensland, but that
he hoped to remain
some time, and that his object was to go amongst the blacks of
the Colony, and,
by first learning what he could of the language, endeavour to
gain their
confidence and try to do them good in various ways, in which
also a little
knowledge of medicine that he possessed would prove helpful.
Since writing
this, I hear that that grand missionary, the Rev. Chalmers of
New Guinea, has
been killed in a tribal war in that island; a man who was
beloved by all who
knew him, by every one who had read the incidents of his life,
and the reason I
mention him here is because my companion, in our quest of the
black fellows’
camp, stated that he was going to take Chalmers as an example
of how to
approach aborigines at the outset; thus, not to commence by
preaching or
tuition, though a modicum of this might follow when confidence
had been
established and the language mastered. In fine, that the
system which had been
pursued in the part of Victoria with which he was acquainted
had only ended by
the black fellows learning everything that was taught them
like so many
parrots, with the result that no lasting good was effected, so
he intended
trying another plan.
When
we arrived at the camp we received appalling proof that some
of these
statements applied as much to the Queensland as to the
Victorian black.
Men
and women, clad for the most part in scanty old skirts, came
running out to
greet us, and it was at once evident that the appearance of my
mate in his
clerical attire had caused great excitement. A black fellow’s
eyes are
everywhere, and he takes in everything at a glance. The
natives guessed rightly
that I was a new arrival in the Colony, and as my companion
had approached the
camp by another route to mine, they probably thought that we
were unacquainted
with each other. At all events, a black fellow came up to me,
as I happened to
be the first up, and placing his hand gently on the bridle of
my horse, nodded
his head in the direction of my friend, with “That fellow
priest?” I agreed;
upon which, sinking his voice to a mysterious and hoarse
whisper, he
proceeded-“Budgery. That fellow like it put on shirt over
trousel, get a top o’
waddy, and yabber ‘bout debil, debil;” which, rendered in
plain English,
reads-“Good. That man puts his shirt on over his trousers,
gets top of wood, or
pulpit, and talks about devil, devil.”
Before I could make any remark upon
this new and
startling manner of describing a preacher, the whole mob of
blacks, who had
been listening to the information vouchsafed me, commenced to
dance about with
joy at having a parson in their midst; and we soon found out
the reason, for my
instructor, signing to the others to be quiet, struck an
attitude, then turned
to his reverence with an air of pride and satisfaction, and
thus addressed him:
“You give mine tixpence mine say lorsprer tin commands budgery
quick all same
white fellow,” which meant “Give me sixpence, I’ll say the
Lord’s prayer and
ten commandments splendidly quick as a white man does in
church.” Then,
without a moment’s hesitation, he
rattled off like lightning, as far as we could follow him, a
page or so of the
Church Service, throwing in a few responses here and there.
The parson looked
grave, as the black, the very second he had concluded, held
out his hand for
sixpence, and, upon the coin being refused him, evidently
considered tha the
had not spoken his piece fast enough, for he called up another
member of his
tribe, saying as he pushed him forward, “This fellow cabon
quick one shillin’.”
“This man very quick, one shilling.”
The
last fellow was throwing himself into an attitude and filling
his lungs
preparatory to a violent effort, when I gave them sixpence
each to “move on.”
This, however, was taken without any show of thanks, and they
observed that
they always had more for repeating their lessons. Then, seeing
that we were
obdurate, the first orator approached close to my companion, a
happy thought
having evidently struck him, and putting on a dignified
expression said, “See
mine yabber along big fellow hat?”
The
fact was that in those days the custom was still prevalent
amongst certain of
the older members of a congregation, upon entering a church,
to put up their
tall hats and say a little prayer into them. The blacks had
witnessed this
ceremony, and, I believe, were honestly endeavouring to please
the member of the
Church present by showing him that they were well acquainted
with his doctrine.
An
old and battered tall hat had been produced, for the blacks
often sported this
article of attire when entering the towns, but we told them to
drop it, and
ended by examining the weapons and possum skins with which the
camp was
strewed, eventually buying a few curios for which we doubtless
paid an abnormal
price, but there was not much of interest in the collection.
The
parson was sad as we rode homewards; he said that this mockery
of religion was
evidently kept up by low white men who wished to make sport of
these wretched
black fellows. And subsequent experience proved to me that
these half-tamed,
loafing blacks were of little account, being lazy and given to
begging for
money, which goes at once in drink, though it is against the
laws to supply
them with liquor.
When
we parted, he told me that there was evidently no field for
him amongst the
specimen natives around the towns, but that he should go
amongst the wild blacks.
He was a good man, but if there had been a hundred as earnest
as he was, little
or no good would have come to their efforts, as subsequent
experience amongst
the aboriginals proved to me.
I saw
something of blacks on the stations later on. These men were
not contaminated
by the vices of a town and proved useful enough in a way, but
they could not be
depended upon for regular work. Admirable as they were for
tracking lost cattle
or strayed horse, and for shepherding, being well fed and
cared for at the same
time, yet they had a way of suddenly disappearing when most
wanted, sometimes
for good, at others for weeks at a time.
There
were exceptions to this, and they have been known to stay by
their masters and
remain faithful for years; but as a rule, they are restless,
and often have
proved treacherous by bringing up members of their tribe to
the station, when
at a given signal, they have suddenly fallen upon the white
men, and in this
way, murdered whole families. The native Mounted Police are
then quickly on the
spot, follow up the miscreants by the trail they leave behind,
and punish them
according to their desserts.
These
police consist of a force which is spread in small detachments
over the
out-lying districts. There are some six or more black
troopers, or “boys” as
they are called, in each detachment, with a white officer in
command.
Barracks
of a rough but comfortable nature are placed in certain
centres a long way from
each other, and the duties of the force consist of patrolling
stations within
their districts and ascertaining whether the owners of these
have any
complaints to make in connection with the aborigines; also to
seek for any one
who may be lost in the bush-in fact, to protect the settlers
generally. All the
“boys” are picked trackers, they are well horsed, and are
supplied with
uniform. These uniforms are discarded when on the warpath,
then their costume
consists of a brown skin and a belt. As weapon, they each
carry a carbine.
I
came across one of these small contingents on one occasion at
an out-station,
and accompanied them on their patrol for a few days, and
though no incident
worthy of record occurred on this occasion, I found the free
and roving life so
fascinating that I determined then and there that I would some
day enlist as a member
of the force. Later on in my Colonial career, I found my hopes
realised, and
the later pages of this journal are almost entirely devoted to
my experiences
whilst serving in the Native Mounted Police of Queensland. So
I will say no
more on the subject now.
We
have all heard of the man who landed on a distant shore with
the proverbial
half-a-crown in his pocket; I found him, though not in such a
state of
impecuniosity as he described his condition to be when he
first touched the
shore of Queensland.
Curiously
enough, It proved that I knew all about his early career by
report. My
acquaintance with him happened in this way. There were a few
hansom cabs in
Brisbane when I arrived there; and one day I was lounging on
the verandah of
one of the hotels, “The Queens,” I think it was called, when a
very spruce cab
was driven up and the-cabby I was going to say-but rather the
officer who drove
it jumped down, took out the well fed horse that was in the
shafts, led it into
a shed nearby, rubbed it down, washed, dried, and fed it, then
tied it up under
the shade of a tree and proceeded to keep the flies off it
with a whisk which
he produced from the cab.
These
proceedings, coupled with the appearance of the driver, were
so unlike anything
I had seen in Piccadilly, that I determined to go for a drive.
As
for hailing such a Jehu, so gross a proceeding never entered
my mind. On closer
inspection, I saw that he was a good-looking man of about
thirty, though the
lines on his face betokened some years of a hard life in a hot
country. With
the exception of a well-kept moustache, he was clean shaved
and dressed in an
immaculate suit of white duck. I should have put him down as a
retired military
man, but it proved that he had belonged to the sister service.
“How
much to Breakfast Creek?” I asked, as I patted his horse.
“Oh,
anything you like,” he answered with a pleasant smile. “I see
you like the
mare, and ‘Kitty’ wants to stretch her legs, I’ll put to and
then you jump in.”
It
did, and the mare, at the sound of her master’s voice, fairly
flew into her
collar and raced down that Breakfast Creek road in a manner
that set me
thinking, for it was my first, and what proved to be my
sharpest, experience of
a hansom cab at the Antipodes. I Saturday tight and smoked, as
we bounded over
ruts and roots of gum trees, for the roads were too new in the
sixties to be
entirely level. The mare never broke her trot the whole
distance. At length,
when one of the wheels was in a straight line with a huge
stump, I was thinking
of making a suggestion in a loud voice, for we were creating a
great wind, when
the trap was flung open and a beaming face appeared as the
driver roared out
“stand by.” I had just time to see that the off wheel had
cleared the stump by
about half an inch, when I was thrown partly off my seat as
the mare was
brought up suddenly on her haunches, to a full stop at the
gate of the little
hotel.
True
to my home instincts, I asked, “What is the fare?”
“Oh,
damn the expense,” was all the answer I received; and then,
jumping off his
perch. He resumed, “I’ll just see to old Kitty, and then I’m
going to shout,”
which means, to those unacquainted with Colonial slang, “I’m
going to stand
drinks.”
So I
stepped into the bar, and was presently joined by my driver,
who, after calling
for refreshments, said:
“You
see, I love that mare, she’s all in the world to me. I don’t
often send her
along that pace; she wanted to go, so I let her rip. I only
carry that whip for
show. What did you come out for? I see you’re a new hand;
you’re right to be
under the old flag.”
However,
he did not wait for an answer to his question. It was evident
that he wished
rather to speak of himself, for he continued:
“My
name is Payne-Jack Payne-I was a junior officer aboard one of
Her Majesty’s
ships at the siege of Sebastopol. The I left the service, and
after a lot of
ups and downs, worked my passage out here and came ashore at
Moreton Bay, with
two shillings and some pence in my pocket, all in coppers-what
I had cleared,
in fact, the night before landing, at nap. Then I sawed wood
at a Brisbane
boarding-house for a week, and so got free rations. After
this, I helped a
‘bullock puncher’-anglice bullock driver-with his team far up
into the back
blocks; landed at a fine station, and there broke in horses
for a couple of
years or so. Ah! He was a grand old boss I had there. I turned
out some fine
‘buggy cattle’-horses to draw buggies- for him too, and when I
left he gave me
one of them. Yes, I made some dollars at that place,” he
concluded, with a
sigh, as he drained his glass.
“A
pity that you did not stop on,” I suggested.
“So
it was,” he agreed, as he eyed me keenly. ‘Fact was some of
the young hands
there were a bit jealous; they thought a lot of my riding
though.” Then, after
a pause, he went on, “I don’t mind telling you, it’s
thundering hot, thirsty
work breaking in horses, and perhaps I lifted my elbow once
too often, but I
was always ‘right’ when I had a horse in hand. Ah! It was a
cruel blow to the
whole station when I told them I must go. Then I turned cabby
down here, and
mean to stick to it as long as I can make enough money to keep
Kitty and
myself.”
Meantime,
I had been racking my brains as to where I had heard my
companion’s name
before, and now it suddenly all came back to me, so first
giving him my own
name, I told him that I had seen his in a private journal,
coupled with the
phrase, “I never heard of him again,” and that he had served
in the same
man-of-war as my brother.
“Done
with you, old man, so I did,” he shouted, as he jumped off the
bar counter,
where he had perched himself the better to watch his mare
through the window.
“Shake hands- have another- now for a good old yarn.”
But
we did not stay long, as I had to get back to the hotel, to
which he drove me
leisurely, as I had begged him to. He had no false pride about
him and would
not accept a brass farthing for his services on this occasion.
However, it was
made up to him afterwards, for a friend and myself
subsequently took him and
his cab on several trips into the bush. These were over
execrable roads where
he had chiefly to walk his Kitty, at a note (£1) a day. We
went for the purpose
of collecting birds, specially seeking the “Rifle” bird of
Paradise. These
picnics were most enjoyable under the guidance of such a
good-hearted fellow as
he proved himself, especially in the care and affection he
bestowed on his
horse. Finally, I may repeat the wording of the old journal,
that after I left
Brisbane, “I never heard of him again.”
Colonial
Experience
Concerning
Social Matters
Industry
of the Settlers
Newspapers
Trip to
Moreton Bay
So far I had made no serious
attempt with regard to
cutting a line for myself in the Colony. Perhaps my first
experiences had
exercised a certain amount of prudence in the matter, and I
argued to myself
that if a man loafs for a period amongst the right sort of
folk, he picks up
many hints which are sure to be of service to him in the days
that follow. I
found that every one was most hospitable and kind, and that
without
introductions being presented to them- probably because
of that fact.
I
enjoyed most pleasant times at Government House, the then
Governor being the
late Sir George Bowen. Amongst others, I met here many of the
squatters and
wool kings of the Colony, men who showed hospitality of the
free and hearty
nature which specially obtains in Australia; and, later on,
under Governor
Blackall’s régime friends and myself had the privelege of
accompanying him in
his “specials” up country; also of exploring Moreton Bay and
the numerous creeks
in the Kate steamer.
As a
set out, “Colonial experience,” was thus rendered both easy
and fascinating.
Besides this, during spare hours, I used to pay visits to the
poorer class of
settlers around the town, and to the richer farms of fruit and
vegetables in
the neighbourhood. The industry of the smaller settlers, at
the time of which I
write, consisted chiefly of growing fruits of the earth for
the local markets.
Their log houses were rough, and roofed with bark or zinc, as
were, in fact,
most of the houses of Brisbane and other towns; but their soil
was virgin soil.
Many a settler, both in southern and tropical Queensland, owed
much to Mr.
Hill, who was then curator of the Brisbane Botanical Gardens
and also to the
Acclimatization Society, for his success in cultivation, owing
to the advice he
received, and the consignments of suitable plants and trees
which were sent him
from these institutions.
One
of the best sources of information, especially to a new-comer,
consists in his
studying the local newspapers; and a letter which I read in
the Brisbane
Courier sent me off to an old established fruit farm at
Boggo Road, near
Brisbane, where I saw fruit grown by the acre. The letter read
as follows:
Pines. “I send you the result of my twenty
years’ experience
of the uses and value of this delicious fruit. First-
pineapples can be
preserved at a cost of 5s per dozen for exportation to any
part of the world.
Second- the juice from one dozen of pineapples will make three
bottles of rich,
pure, wine, worth 1s 6d per bottle. The fruit, after taking
away the juice will
make six pounds of jam preserve, and the peels alone will
yield three bottles
of cider. Third- sixty pounds of pineapples (about three
dozen), at a cost of
5s, will yield one gallon of alcohol, worth (at least) 17s,
giving a net profit
of 4s per dozen. Brandy manufactured from the pineapple is far
superior in
flavour to brandy made from the grape; but the common still
now in use is
unsuited to the successful conversion of the pineapples into
alcohol, as there
exists a deleterious acid in the pineapple which the common
still cannot
extract.”
The
writer of this letter evidently possessed the secret of
extracting, for the
best proof, that of taste, assured me that his brandy was a
nutty liqueur of
delicious flavour. His idea, he told me, was to form a
company.
Excellent
pines were selling at the time of which I write at 3d a dozen.
The Queenslander
was a weekly newspaper which I took in during my residence in
the Colony. It
was established in 1866. I sued sometimes to have my little
“say” in it, and
lately, the editor published a letter from me, concerning the
“Palmer.” This is
a tropical fish, and as there was a discussion in a Queenslander
of 1901 as to
the origin of the name, I
settled the matter by sending a letter to the editor giving my
reasons for so
naming the fish, and stating that I had the honour of being
the first to effect
his capture with rod and salmon fly, which letter he printed.
Amongst
other excursions I went with a shipmate of mine to Moreton Bay
on a camping-out
expedition. My last experience of living under canvas had been
whilst shooting
around the Paarl- Cape of Good Hope- in 1863. But each Colony
has its own
little, or rather important, way in connection with tent life,
so that on this
occasion, I gladly availed myself of the services of one
“Pablo,” a Malay
fisherman who knew every yard of the bay. We started in a
rowing boat from the
Brisbane wharf, and dropped down the river during one of those
bright July days
that occur during the unrivalled winter of Queensland; we
rowed until the mouth
of the river was reached, then up sail and steered for King
Island. Here we
made a large fire and rigged our tent under the lee of a
scrub, close to
high-water mark. The might was bitterly cold.
The
next day we made Dunwich. This is an establishment kept up by
the Government
for old shepherds and other people who can no longer help
themselves. From
there, we eventually made our point, and a long sail it was,
to “Flat” rock in
the southern channel. Here we had excellent sport with hooks
and lines, for in
three hours we pulled up some two hundred large schnapper,
also two groper-one
of these latter weighed forty pounds.
Whilst
camped in another part of the Bay, we received a visit from
the chief warders
of the convict island of St. Helena; they had made us out with
their glasses
and brought a most acceptable present of butter, eggs, and
milk, from the
superintendent, Mr. McDonald, who keeps the convicts employed
cultivating cane
and making sugar.
Before
we left the Bay to return home, we paid a visit to H.M.S.
Blanche, which was
anchored there, by the invitation of her captain, and spent a
most pleasant
time, as one always does on board a man-of-war.
So
far chiefly amusement, and it occurred to me that it was high
time to ask
oneself the question- “Why come eighteen thousand miles and
more, simply to gad
about and amuse oneself?”
The
question was answered by my mate after we had returned to
Brisbane. “Let us go
north,” he said, “and look about.” No sooner said than done.
We were both free
agents, and packing, which requires much forethought and brain
work at home,
did not trouble us a little bit. It consisted of throwing
sundry “slops,” as
ready-made clothing was called, into a couple of leather bags,
when we took the
first steamer bound for the northern ports, my first advance
towards entering
the Native Police, though ‘twixt this and then I experienced a
bit more.
Colonial experience. I will first repeat more fully the “why
and the wherefore”
of the corps of “Black Police.”
VARIED
EXPERIENCES
Fuller
description of the
Native Mounted Police
More
Colonial Experience
“Overlanding”
Our
“Skippers.”
We “Rush.”
“Australia
has been won by a
hundred years of bloodshed.”
So I
have heard more than one old squatter aver, and there is truth
in the
statement. The aborigines in all countries naturally fight for
their rights, so
in Australia they treated the first white men as enemies, and
began by
murdering inoffensive shepherds.
We
Britons, with good reason, determined to develop and populate
this magnificent
island continent, and as time went on we organised a force of
Native Mounted
Police in the new Colony of Queensland, for the purpose of
protecting outside
settlers from the raids of the blacks.
These
troopers were drawn from various tribes which inhabited the
more settled
districts. They were commanded by white officers, and
distributed in small
squads in various outlying parts of the country.
The
barracks for the officers were built of logs and roofed with
bark. The
troopers, or “boys,” as I shall continue to call them, had
“gunyahs,” or huts,
of their own outside the main building. These gunyahs were
practically sheds of
bark open to the air all round, for a native catches cold, or
even consumption,
if he has to sleep in tents or under the white man’s roof.
As I
served in the force during a portion of the early sixties, I
will endeavour to
describe as accurately as possible the sort of life we led,
and the duties we
had to perform.
I
have nothing so thrilling to communicate as fights with
bushrangers; for those
lively gentry confined their attentions to the older and
richer parts of the
Colonies; but of adventure and incident, I had my fair share,
and will here set
down my experiences. At the same time it will be obvious to
any Queenslander of
those days that some episodes connected with the doings of the
force cannot be
published. Events happened which were unavoidable, and the
“boys” got beyond
control in certain circumstances. There was a special instance
of this when an
officer of theirs was speared to death. This event happened
not many miles from
our own camp, soon after I joined.
By
the way, this poor fellow met his death owing to his own want
of judgment and
experience, for he had formed his camp on the edge of a dense
scrub, the most
dangerous of all situations. Had he, for want of a better
place, pitched his
tent inside the thicket, it would have been safer, as spears
and other wooden
weapons cannot be wielded to any advantage in such a place.
The
blacks rushed the camp at daylight-the “boys” were asleep as
usual, and their
officer was speared in his tent.
It
must be borne in mind by those who are not “in the know,” that
these
half-civilised natives, now turned into troopers, were
enlisted from different
tribes, and for that reason, the white man who commanded them
was safe, as all
tribes were and are practically at war with each other, and
not only was he
safe, but I can say that a strong feeling of friendship was
engendered between
master and man. This was the more marked when in the wilds of
the bush, and
completely cut off from civilisation; the “boys” would not
only protect their
officer from hidden danger, but would also thoughtfully
provide him with little
luxuries in the shape of fish or game.
But I
am bound to admit that they failed, in spite of all warnings,
in one important
matter; they would not keep watch at night. In spite of the
best intentions, a
few minutes after supper would find them stretched around
their tiny camp fires
buried in a profound slumber, their heads under the blanket
which each man
carried on his horse whilst patrolling.
Before
entering the Police, I had been through a very usual
experience incidental to
“new chums,” which I will touch upon lightly. I was first
drafted on to a sheep
station, which was situated some miles inland from the
township of Gladstone,
to do some “foot rotting,” but, however interesting and
intellectual an
occupation this might have proved, I was never able to judge,
for soon after I
had set to work in paring sheep’s diseased toes, the station
“bust up.”
After
this I helped to “overland” cattle. Here was rather more
excitement in watching
round the fires at night, and endeavouring to avoid hostile
meetings with the
blacks. One incident, however, in connection with this
overlanding I must not
omit to mention, if only to prove that a man should not be
waked up too
roughly. We had lit the fires as usual one night round the
cattle to prevent
their breaking away. “An old hand”-anglice, old convict-whom
we dubbed Jonah,
had been watching at one of these fires, and had then fallen
asleep. During the
day we had seen many tracks of blacks, of whom Jonah stood in
special dread.
A new
chum, who had lately joined our party, in going his rounds,
had thought it a
great joke to paint the face of the sleeping beauty with a bit
of burnt wood.
There was probably a spark left in the
fire stick; anyhow, Jonah, on feeling the touch, sprang to his
feet yelling
“Black fellows!” whipped out his revolver and shot the young
joker. The ball
went through the fleshy part of his thigh, and we had to
invalid him to the
nearest station, some fifty miles away.
Since
witnessing this near approach to a tragedy, I have always
endeavoured to wake
any one gently, even in the old country, so strong is the
feeling imbued within
me to “Let sleeping dogs lie.”
Having
arrived at our destination after some two months of crawling
work, we found
that the cattle we had charge of were going to be seized by
the agent of a Bank,
for an overdraft, we presumed, but did not stay to enquire,
and having received
our pay, we dispersed.
Before
we had got rid of these cattle, rumours had reached us that
most promising gold
diggings had “broken out” in the neighbourhood of Maryborough,
a coast township
situated between the twenty-fourth and twenty-sixth degree of
south latitude,
and whilst casting about for something to do, after being paid
off, we found
that these rumours resolved themselves into actual fact, for
we learnt from
reliable men, travellers who had lately been in the Wide Bay
district, that a
great rush had set in to the spot indicated. There is a great
fascination in
the term “diggings,” especially was it so to one, like myself,
who had never
been on them. It meant gold, and though I had no thought of
procuring any of
the precious metal amongst a rush of old diggers, still I
should surely see it
in its native state.
The
chief line of coasting steamers of the time belonged to the
Australian
Steamship Navigation Company. I made many trips in these boats
during my
sojourn in Queensland, and thus became acquainted with the
genial and worthy
skippers; a photographic group representing four of these
officers, I still
possess: Captains Chatfield, Champion, Cottier and Quayle.
Therefore,
rather than miss a chance of seeing gold being mined, a friend
and myself
placed our small amount of luggage on board one of these
boats, and prepared to
do our small share and “rush” with the rest. The steamer was
crammed, and we
had to shake down as best we could for two or three nights.
Having
completed the sea part of the journey, we took horses, another
friend joined
us, and together we proceeded, as recorded in my journal of
the time.
THE
DIGGINGS- GYMPIE CREEK
The
Diggings- Gympie Creek
Descriptive
of Gold Mines
and their Working
“A Roll
Up” – John Chinaman
The
Surgeon Rushed
The Gympie Creek diggings, situated on and about the Mary River, and, roughly speaking, about one hundred miles from Brisbane and fifty from Maryborough, may be looked upon as the richest gold field that up to this time has been discovered in the Colony, and “breaking out” as they did during a periodof most severe commercial depression, in 1867, these diggings may be said to have almost entirely saved Brisbane from utter insolvency; but for their discovery many of its business men would have gone into the Insolvency Court, whereas they have now branch stores on the diggings doing a thriving trade.
When
these diggings were some few months old, I visited them in
company with
friends- there were then from nine to ten thousand men on
them. We started from
the interior of the Burnett district, during one of the
hottest and driest
summers that had been known there; our entire journey,
therefore, was a very
hot and dusty one, but taking into consideration the dryness
of the season, we
found the country both well grassed and watered.
Sometimes
our track took us over barren ridges growing stunted iron-bark
trees, and
covered with stones, with here and there pieces of quartz
cropping up;
sometimes through tracts growing silver-leaved iron-bark and
stunted
blood-wood, sure signs of good country, whilst the “flats”
looked amazingly
green in contrast with the surrounding country; here the grass
and the common
fern grew luxuriantly, reminding one of a park in the old
country, until,
looking up, one sees the beautifully green and shady swamp
mahogany and “apple”
trees, when any distant dreams are quickly dispelled. We also
passed through
scrubs growing gigantic pine trees. The whole of the road,
from beginning to
end, was several inches deep in white dust as fine as flour,
which obliged us
to carefully wash our eyes every evening for fear of “sandy
blight.”
Approaching
nearer to the diggings we found more bare ridges, growing gums
and iron-barks
of a great height, and as straight as arrows. Crossing the
Mary River, which we
found at this point to be a beautiful running stream, whose
banks were fringed
by luxuriant vine-scrubs, we came upon the first sign of a
digging. This was a
hole, resembling a grave, sunk in a gully; the earth thrown
out was yellow, but
the hole had been abandoned, evidently proving in miner’s
slang, a “duffer.”
All the gullies also within ten miles of the diggings proper
showed signs of
having been tested; often hundreds of feet below us a heap of
reddish earth
would mark the spot, like a distant rabbit burrow.
On
arriving within some four miles of the diggings, we heard that
we were in the
neighbourhood of a new “rush”! It being our first visit to the
diggings, we
wondered whether diggers actually ran across on these
occasions; for we could
hardly fancy that were even gold the object in view it would
be sufficient to
make a man run up and down stony gullies, thermometer standing
at one hundred
and twenty degrees, carrying pick and shovel. We, however, met
parties of men
walking along off the track, as though nothing unusual had
occurred; but
subsequent experience showed us that this apathy was only
manifest after men
had been constantly disappointed by false rumours, and that
when the report was
verified, they ran as hard as they could, often in their hurry
leaving behind
blankets, “billies,” picks, and everything, and continuing day
and night till
the golden spot was reached.
We
met a few disappointed diggers returning, but they are always
to be found on
the best diggings. After quitting some sandy ranges, we came
down on to a flat,
gullies from other ranges on our left running into it, and
thus running out
quite shallow. It was at the tail of one of these gullies that
we first saw
four claims were marked out by means of stakes driven in at
the four corners of
each claim. Two men were resting in the first hole we looked
at, which was only
two feet deep. All the other holes in the gully were in the
same state, with
the exception of one, but this one, at the very tail of the
gully, was down
twelve or fourteen feet, and a crowd of diggers were round its
mouth; these
were waiting for the owners to “bottom,” i.e., reach the
description of earth
which contains the gold, and we were afterwards told that old
diggers from the
other Colonies frequently made mistakes on these diggings,
going right through
the bottom, for the auriferous soil differs altogether on
different diggings.
In this case, some of the earth was carried off in a sack to
the nearest
water-hole and washed, but was found only to contain the
colour, and after
trying other claims with the same result, this gully was
abandoned.
From
this spot to the township, we passed numerous deserted claims,
looking like graveyards,
with here and there small water-holes the colour and
consistency of pea-soup,
rendered so by the quantities of dirt that had been washed in
them; drays were
encamped in all directions, with numerous tents, many of the
latter showing
their New Zealand origin, by bearing the name “Hokitike
Hokitike” upon them.
Women and children were cooking; the only men we saw here were
stragglers in
red shirts and long boots, and a few cutting bark from the
iron-bark trees.
Ascending
to the summit of a hill, we found ourselves in the town, and
at one end of a
very long street; and though little more than two months old
“Nashville” looked
larger than most of the coast towns, and certainly presented a
most lively and
animated appearance. Stretching along the side of a deep gully
it looked
something like a foreign town on a great market day. On each
side of us trees
were being cut down, or their topmost limbs lopped off by a
black fellow. Bark
humpies, tents, and even flag-staffs were being erected, while
many of the
houses were of two stories, and shingled- a brass-plate on one
bearing the
inscription of “Surgeon and Accoucheur.” We learnt that the
sites for the shops
were secured by payment of £4 for the first year, then, if the
digging turns
out a success, these sites are offered for competition.
Some
little was down the street we came across a gully running
right across it and
terminating in the main gully, and so closely had the smaller
one been worked
on each side of the road, that barely sufficient room had been
left for a dray
to pass between the shafts, which were in many cases sixteen
and twenty feet
deep. A little temporary shed was erected over the mouth of
each shaft; this
shelters the man who is winding up the buckets of dirt which
his mate fills at
the bottom. Each shaft had a large heap of dirt round its
mouth, and these were
being gradually carried off by one-horse drays to the Mary
River, there to be
cradled and washed; these drays were earning £3 to £4 a day.
We accompanied one
dray with its precious load to the river, about a mile
distant, passing on our
way amongst endless tents and bark humpies, whilst holes were
being sunk in
every direction. Passing through a few yards of thick scrub
overhanging the
river, we found ourselves on its banks, at this part very
steep. As far as the
eye could reach, both up and down the stream, we saw one long
line of diggers
washing the dirt and rocking their cradles, the water
perfectly yellow from the
process.
The
dray we had accompanied was backed to the brink, and its load
tilted down a
channel cut in the bank, being thus deposited at the feet of
the washers who
are usually mates of those who work the claim. All was being
carried on with
the utmost regularity and decorum, each claim having so many
feet of the river
to wash in. We counted about thirty drays near us going and
returning. Two men
and a boy were engaged washing the particular heap that we
were interested in.
One of them had a long trough filled with water in which he
raked the dirt
backwards and forwards with a stick, another used the cradle
while the boy had
the tin dish.
The
cradle was placed at the edge of the water, and with short
strokes rocked
quickly to and for. The upper part being a sieve allows the
small stuff to fall
through on to a lower shelf, but keeps back the pebbles, and,
as we had an
opportunity of witnessing in this case, many a plump nugget,
which the
“cradler” picked out with the most provoking coolness, and
carelessly threw
into a pint pot at his feet. The boy was occupied in washing
the “tailings” of
the cradle-“tailings” means the dirt which has undergone one
washing and
examination. These were washed in a tin dish by its being
gently waved round
and round in the water till everything is washed out,
excepting the gold,
which, owing to its weight, remains. We had selected this
washing, as the dirt
came from a very rich claim, turning out as much as eight
ounces to the load,
and gold was worth at this period £3 8s an ounce at the
Commercial Bank, the
only one at the diggings at the time.
Some
of the diggers on the Creek were “stacking their dirt,” ie.
heaping up a great
quantity before carting it to water. We saw one ordinary
looking heap which an
old digger valued at about £1,000, yet no gold could be seen
in it, till
washed; but on passing these heaps after a shower of rain, the
gold will
frequently become visible.
True
diggers are a fine set of men, and quiet and orderly as a
rule. They always
like to see fair play, and have certain rules amongst
themselves, which they
adhere to most strictly. While they have money, they live on
the very best of
everything. Their slang is peculiar, and their expressions
quaint.
I was
one day gazing down a dark shaft, wondering whether any one
was there, and as
my eyes became accustomed to the gloom, I saw there was a
drive at the bottom,
and fancying I heard a noise, asked, “Is any one down there?”
“Only
a buck rabbit digging a hole for his self,” was the answer, in
which I omit a
word, referring to the buck, extremely expressive, but
scarcely parliamentary.
Having received this answer, I was thinking of retreating,
when my digger
backed out of his hole, and threw me up a nugget with “Not so
bad, mate.”
One
can hardly understand such confidence displayed towards a
total stranger, but
in many other instances, I noticed the same trait in their
character. This
nugget was followed by another, and I returned them by
descending his rope.
There was barely room for two of us, four feet by two being
the proportion of
the shaft, and twenty-four feet deep. I was permitted to crawl
into the drive
and pick out some dirt; and having the luck to find a small
nugget weighing
about 5 pennyweights, was allowed to retain it. This man was
clearing £30 or
£40 a week; but from the very short acquaintance I had with
the work, I am
satisfied alluvial digging is tremendous fatigue- at the
bottom of a deep
shaft, lying in a hole which just fits one, and picking the
earth away with a
few inches of one’s face.
In
the bottom of the gullies some of the digging was very hard,
and we watched a
man with his pick working at the rock in a shallow trench, and
working steadily
too; and on returning the next day he had made but little
progress and found no
gold, but je persevered and was at length rewarded.
Some
remarkable cases have occurred at Gympie of gold-finding. One
gentleman,
connected with the Government, went there for a holiday,
commenced digging, and
shortly afterwards turned up the monster nugget of these
diggings; it weighed
considerably over eight hundred ounces.
It is
astonishing with what rapidity the bakers, butchers, and
storekeepers flock to
the diggings, and we found them not only supplying all the
necessaries of life,
but also most of its luxuries, and at Gympie nothing was
expensive. We stayed
at one of the public-houses that was being built, and though
too soon for beds,
yet we lived as well as we could have done in any town, and as
there were no
mosquitoes, we managed to sleep very comfortable with a
blanket on the ground.
Even
at this early period of its history Nashville boasted of a
café de Paris and a
billiard table. Every evening the town presented a very gay
appearance, from
the numerous lights hanging from shop fronts and trees on each
side of its
long, straggling street.
But the
night par excellence was Saturday night; the whole
length of the street
was so full of diggers that we could hardly move at all, and
what with singing,
swearing, fighting, drinking, bargaining for loaves, beef, and
sausages for
Sunday’s dinner, the noise was tremendous, while every
public-house was crammed
with men discussing their various finds, and shouting in the
double senses of
the word, with “here’s luck,” “here’s fun,” “here’s my opinion
of you,” or “to
show there’s no coolness,” etc., while they frequently paid
for drinks with
small samples of gold. In one house we came upon a huge
Italian singing
selections from the Operas to a delighted audience, who,
though they could not
understand the style of singing, judging from the remarks they
made, evidently
appreciated his fine voice.
We
entered a music-hall shortly afterwards (one shilling
entrance), heard some
good songs and recitations, witnessed some fair boxing, and
the best step
dancer that we had ever before seen performing to the lively
tune of two
fiddles. On a digging, one often comes across a really good
professional, who,
failing to be successful in digging, makes money by the
exercise of his
profession. One favourite vocalist of the diggers used to make
his £1 or so a
day by “fossicking,” ie., digging here and there, but going to
no depth, and at
night he attracted crowded houses by his singing.
But
what interested us a great deal more than any other branch of
the diggings were
the quartz reefs, and it is chiefly on the extent and richness
of these that
the permanency of a digging depends, for good reefs will last
for very many
years before they are worked out. On the alluvial diggings
(dispersed among the
quartz reef) men that we knew had worked out their claims and
could not get
others, but the owners of a good reef may be drawing gold from
it for a very
long period.
What
are known as a “poor man’s diggings” are alluvial, while the
reefs require
capital to work them.
A
gentleman with whom we were acquainted was part owner in one
of the richest
reefs at Gympie, the “Lady Mary” reef. His shaft was near a
deep gully, and he
informed us that he first struck the reef by noticing the
pieces of quartz
lying in a peculiar position in the bank of this gully, and
“pointing” in one
direction; his shaft was about twelve feet deep, and while we
were there it was
not being worked, as there was no quartz crushing machine on
the diggings, and
it is useless to heap up more than a certain quantity of
quartz before a
machine arrives.
The
law in this case is, that a digger must “shepherd” his claim
up to twelve
o’clock every day- he must be on it, whether working
it or not- if he
fails to do this any one can “jump” it; by registering the
claim, this can be
avoided. This shaft was a large open one; two easy drops, and
we were at the
bottom of it, but not prepared for what we saw. On a sheet of
bark being
removed, we were failry transfixed with astonishment; the slab
of quartz
disclosed to view was about a yard and a half long, and about
two yards deep.
These were not, of course, its natural boundaries; it might go
for miles in
length and several yards deep, but this was the extent laid
bare. This quartz
was of a very white description, thus contrasting strongly
with the gold, which
was scattered all over its surface, chiefly in specks the size
of two or three
pins’ heads, but sometimes in patches as large as a pea. There
was scarcely a
square inch of quartz without gold in it. On a piece of the
quartz being
chipped off, we found the gold inside as thick as ever. So
slow were
capitalists to believe in the richness of these reefs, that
four months after
this only one crushing machine had made its appearance on the
ground, and this
could only crush about thirty tons a week; and many diggers
were actually for
weeks crushing their quartz by hand in iron mortars. Some
specimens of quartz
that were shown us were so rich, that after being cracked by a
blow, the piece
would not separate till it was twisted in two, the gold inside
holding it
together.
Money
can be made in various ways on diggings, apart from digging;
but I would warn
any one from taking shares in a Quartz Reef Company without
great care, and
ascertaining every particular by himself direct. On the other
hand, a great
chance is sometimes lost; a visitor to Gympie was offered a
share in a reef for
£5 before it was opened; he declined. The reef was opened the
same afternoon,
and so very rich was the quartz found to be, that he could not
then have
purchased a share for £100.
Many
men did well at the commencement of these diggings by
carrying, driving cattle,
and sheep, butchering etc but like the diggings themselves,
these were soon
overdone.
The
Government have been latterly forming roads, laying out the
town, and extending
the telegraph to it. Gympie, though rich, does not extend over
a great extent
of ground so far, and hundreds have found there is no room,
and have had to
turn back. Some have been waylaid and murdered by the blacks
for the sake of
the miserable clothes they have on. One man, having been
stripped of his
clothes, appeared at a station we were staying at. He had
plastered his body
over with mud to protect it from the sun.
All
the Chinese diggers were chased off by the Europeans during
our stay- they
numbered six hundred. It certainly was a funny sight to see.
“Roll
up, roll up,” we heard roared all through the camp, and at
once celestials were
flying helter-skelter, taking flying leaps over claims,
sometimes into them,
when they would be dragged out by their pigtails and cuffed on
again. At first
they started laden with buckets, pots, bedding, and other
gear; gradually this
was cast aside as they whirled along with an incessant
jabbering, which was
only equaled by the oaths and shouts of the pursuing party.
Those who had
coiled up their pigtails got off easiest, but when that
appendage was flying
behind, the owner sometimes came to grief, as the waggling
tail was too
tempting. The Chinese mob eventually out-distanced their
pursuers, but “not the
six hundred.”
And
there was yet another “roll up” after this, in which a
professional man nearly
lost his life, the surgeon before mentioned, he of the brass
plate. A digger
who had broken his leg in two places was hauled up from the
shaft and lay
groaning on the bank; his mates did their best for him by
putting up boughs to
shield him from the sun, whilst one of their number started
off as hard as he
could run for the surgeon; but presently this messenger tore
back to the group
and shouted out:
“The doctor won’t come unless he’s
paid first.”
“Won’t he?” rose with a yell; and
“roll up” went
through the camp with a roar, as every man, with the exception
of those left to
guard the claims, together with their big dogs, made a rush
for the
brass-plated house. The doctor just received a warning in
time, but showed a
further ignorance of the digger nature by firing with a shot
gun in the face of
the advancing mob. This infuriated them to such a degree that
they replied with
revolver shots at every window and door of the surgeon’s
house; but when they
at length broke in, they only found an innocent apprentice,
his master having
bolted out of the back door.
When
the situation was understood, the young medical student was
carried off with
the utmost kindness, he tended the wounded man till he was
well, received a
handsome reward, and, furthermore, so pleased the diggers that
they set him up
as their special doctor.
When
we next looked for the house of the brass plate we only found
ruins.
A
Colonial newspaper stated in May, 1868, that there were within
the small area
comprising the Gympie gold field, no less than forty-two reefs
being worked,
and over four thousand ounces of gold were sent down every
fortnight to
Maryborough, and quoting from the British Australasian of may
9, 1901, I find
that the total yield from the Gympie field to the end of 1899
was about two and
a half million ounces. The value of the gold produced nearly
eight and a half
millions pounds sterling.