There was no reply, and I continued:—
"It is stated in this paper that a man took out a lump of gold weighing one hundred and twenty pounds, and that he had been but ten days in the mines when he found it."
"What?" cried Fred, suddenly sitting up, and wiping the perspiration from his brow.
I repeated the statement.
"It's a d——d lie," cried Fred.
"Then let's go and prove it so."
"How's the climate in that part of the world—hot or cold?"
"About the same as here."
Fred meditated for a few minutes, lighted his pipe, and smoked on in silence; and as there was nothing better to do. I joined him.
"We are not making a fortune here in California, and if we don't do any thing in Australia, we shall see the country, and that will be worth something," I said.
"Then let's go," cried Fred, refilling his pipe; and that very evening we commenced selling our stock of superfluous articles to our numerous neighbors, saving nothing but tent, revolvers, rifles, and a few other articles that would stand us in need when we reached Australia.
A week from the day that we made up our mind to try what luck there was in store for us in Australia, we were on board of a clipper ship, and with some two dozen other steerage passengers (for Fred and myself were determined to be economical) we were passing through the Golden Gate on our way to a strange land, where we did not possess a friend or acquaintance that we knew of.
"Well," said Fred, as he stood on deck at the close of the day, and saw the mountains of California recede from view, "it's precious little fun I've seen in that country; and if our new home is not more exciting, I shall be like the Irishman who pined away because he couldn't get up a fight."
"Don't give yourself any uneasiness on that score," replied the mate, who chanced to overhear the remark. "I'll warrant that you'll see as many musses as you'll care to mix in."
"Then, Australia, thou art my home," cried Fred, with a theatrical wave of his hand, as though bidding adieu to the Golden State forever.
Fred was one of the most peaceable men in the world, and never commenced a quarrel; but when once engaged in a conflict, he was like a lion, and would as soon think of yielding as the royal beast.
For nearly fifty days did we roll on the Pacific, amusing ourselves by playing at "all fours," speculating on the chances of our arrival, and making small wagers on the day that we should drop anchor; and after we had all lost and won about an equal amount, we were one morning overjoyed by the sight of land. Standing boldly in towards a low coast, with no signs of a harbor, it was not until we were within half a mile of the shore that we discovered a narrow entrance that opened into Hobson's Bay; when we dropped anchor opposite to a town consisting of a dozen or twenty houses, and over one of them floated the flag of England.
"Well, Mr. Mate," asked Fred, as the men went aloft to furl sails, "do you call that densely-populated city Melbourne?"
"That!" replied the mate, with a look of contempt at the scattered houses. "That be d——d. That's Williams Town. Melbourne is a fine city, seven miles from here, and where all the luxuries of life can be obtained; but tobacco is the dearest one—so be careful of your weed."
As the officers of the custom house were even then coming on board, we thanked him for the hint, and put ours out of their reach.
Williams Town is situated at the mouth of the River Zarra, on Hobson's Bay, and at one time actually threatened to become a place of considerable importance; but the water for domestic use was too bad to be tolerated, and most of those who had settled there were glad to retrace their steps to Melbourne, where a better sort of article exists.
"How are the mines? Do they still hold out?" I inquired of one of the crew of the custom house boat, who was leaning against the rail in a languid manner, as though he had been overworked for the past six months.
"Yes, I s'pose so," he answered; and he spoke as though each word cost him an immense amount of labor.
"Then, Fred, we are in luck," I cried, turning to my partner who stood near at hand.
"Intend going to the mines?" the man asked, with a sudden show of interest.
"Such is our intention," I replied.
"'Mericans, I suppose," he inquired.
"Yes."
"Then don't go if you want to keep the number of your mess," the boatman said.
"Why not?" Fred ventured to inquire.
"'Cos they kill Yankees at the mines. Jim," he continued, turning to a comrade, "how many 'Mericans were killed week afore last at Ballarat?"
"O, I don't know," replied the individual referred to. "A dozen or twenty, I believe. Might have been more or less. I'm not 'ticular within a man or two."
"Thank you for your information," cried Fred. "And now one question more. Can you tell me how many Englishmen were killed by those same Americans, before they died?"
This question appeared to astonish the men; for they looked at each other, and then examined Fred with scrutinizing glances.
"I guess he'll do," they said, at length; and finding that we were not to be frightened, they turned their attention to passengers more credulous, and actually made some of them believe what they said was true.
The next morning we hired a boat to take our luggage to the wharf, where the steamers, which ply between Sydney, Geelong, and Melbourne, stop. Our traps did not amount to much, as we had no money to spare for freighting, and when we first stepped upon the soil of Australia, our worldly possessions consisted of four shirts, do. pants, two pairs of boots, blankets, tents, &c., the whole weighing just one hundred and fifty pounds—not a large amount, but sufficient for two men, whose wants were easily supplied.
There were a dozen rough, loaferish looking men, whiling away their time upon the wharf; but as they confined themselves to simply asking a few questions as to what part of the world we came from, and received satisfactory answers, they soon lost all interest in us, and began to speculate what time the steamer would arrive.
She did not reach the dock until noon; and as we had seen enough of Williams Town, we readily embarked, and in an hour's time were at Melbourne, gazing with interest at every thing that met our view.
The city was full of life and business: heaps of goods were exposed ready for transportation to the mines, and large, lumbering carts of English build were crawling slowly through the streets, drawn by five and six yoke of oxen, while the drivers, armed with whips, the lashes of which were of immense length, though the stock or handle was barely two and a-half feet long, whirled them over the frightened animals' heads, and whenever they struck the poor brutes, a small, circular piece of skin was taken out, leaving the quivering flesh exposed to the sun, and a prey for the numerous insects that hovered in the air.
We carried our stuff on shore, and then considered what was necessary to get to the mines; and while we rested upon our bundles, and ate a portion of the salt junk and biscuit that the cook of the ship had insisted upon our taking with us, we took a calm survey of Melbourne—its advantages and disadvantages. The city occupies two sides of a valley, called East Hill and West Hill, and is well laid out.
The streets are broad, unpaved, and formed so that during the heavy rains the water will centre into the gutters, which are flagged with a substantial kind of stone to prevent the sidewalks from washing away during the rainy season, when the gutters resemble small mountain torrents, and enough head is obtained to carry half a dozen sawmills.
At the place where we landed there is barely sufficient room for the steamer to turn round for the bay, or arm, of the River Zarra is small, and the water shoal. Every available place near the landing was crowded, however,