Rolf Boldrewood - The Ghost Camp

This statement, more or less correct, was confirmed by the performance of both wayfarers, Mr. Blount plying a remarkably good knife and fork, besides disposing of a wedge of damper, and washing the whole down with a couple of pints of hot tea.

The fire was by this time in steady glow. Stretching his legs before it, and indulging in a luxurious smoke, the tourist expressed his opinion that he had known more artistic cookery, but had never enjoyed a meal more.

Mr. John Carter, the while, had washed and replaced the plates and pannikins; also rearranged the beef and bread with a deftness telling of previous experience. This duty concluded, they awaited the return of the gold-diggers.

“They don’t come in while there’s light to work by,” he explained; “the days are that short now, that unless you’re at it early and late there ain’t much to show for it.”

The twilight had faded into all but complete darkness when the dogs growled in a non-committal way, as though merely to indicate human approach without resenting it. “It’s my pals comin’,” the bushman observed; and, closely following the words, footsteps were heard, and a big, bearded, roughly-dressed man entered the hut. “Hullo! Jack, you’re here, and this is the gentleman from England,” he continued, fixing a bold, penetrating glance upon Blount. “Glad to see you, sir! This is a rough shop; but we’ve got fair tucker, and firewood’s plenty. We’ll soon show you the ins and outs of gold-digging, if that’s what you want to see. Jack got you a feed, I expect; fill up the billy, old man, while we get a wash.”

Seizing a handful of rough towels, and a bag which hung near the head of the bunk in the corner to the right of the speaker, he went out into the night; while certain splashing noises told that face and hands’ cleaning was in progress.

Little more than ten minutes had elapsed, when the speaker, accompanied by three other men, re-entered the hut, and after an informal mention of names to the stranger, sat down to the table, where they went to work at the beef and damper, with strict attention to business. Mr. Blount had an opportunity while they were thus engaged of a complete inspection. Though roughly dressed, there was nothing unpleasing to the educated eye about their appearance.

They wore red or blue woollen shirts, rough tweed or moleskin trousers, and heavy miners’ boots. All had beards more or less trimmed, and wore their hair rather short than long.

Three of the party were tall, broad-shouldered, and muscular; the fourth was middle-sized, slight and active-looking. He wore only a fair moustache, and seemed younger than the others. Commencing to make conversation at once, he was evidently regarded as the wit of the party.

“So you’re back again, Jack, old man!” he said, addressing the guide with a half-humorous, half-cynical expression. “Goin’ to and fro on the earth, seekin’ what you might – well, not devour exactly, but pick up in a free and easy, genteel sort o’ way, like the old chap we used to be so frightened of when we were kiddies. Don’t hear so much about him now, do we? Wonder why? He ain’t dead, or played out, what d’ye make of it?”

“You seem to take a lot of interest in him, Dick,” said the guide. “Been readin’ sermons, or beginnin’ to think o’ your latter end? Lots of time for that.”

“Well, not so much that way, but I’m seriously thinkin’ o’ clearin’ out o’ this part o’ the country and tryin’ another colony. It’s too dashed cold and wet here. I’m afraid of my precious health. I hear great talks of this West Australian side – Coolgardie, or something like that – where it never rains, hardly, and they’re getting gold in buckets’ full.”

“You’re doin’ middlin’ well here, Dick,” said one of the other men in a dissuasive tone of voice. “The lead’s sure to widen out as it gets deeper and junctions with the Lady Caroline. Why don’t you have patience, and see it out?”

“Well, haven’t I been waitin’ and waitin’, and now I’m full up; made up my mind to sell out. If any one here will give me twenty notes for my fourth share of the claim after this divide, I’m up to take it.”

“I’ll buy it,” said Mr. Blount impulsively. “I should like to have a turn at real mining, and this seems a fair chance.”

“Done with you, sir; we can write out an agreement here now. You’ll have a fourth share in the hut and tools, won’t he, mates?”

The men nodded assent. “Going cheap, Jack, isn’t it?”

“Dirt cheap, and no mistake. Mr. Blount never made a better bargain. I’ll cash his cheque on Melbourne, so you can clear to-morrow, Dick, though I think you’re a fool for your pains. We’ll witness the agreement here, and he can hold your miner’s right till he gets a transfer from the Registrar at Bunjil.”

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