and the shaft seemed pretty safe, I followed. When I had got to the bottom I thought I would take a look round, so, as I happened to have a bit of candle in my pocket, I lighted up. The claim appeared to me at first to have been completely driven out, and to be almost choked up with pipeclay, but on a closer observation I thought I saw a bit of solid stuff peeping out from among the rubbish. After a deal of trouble I managed to get near enough to touch it, and sure enough it was a large pillar which had been left to support the roof. It was the Macgregors who worked the claim, and they, as you may remember, went off in a great hurry to Ballarat, to join some old mates who had managed to get on the gutter. I suppose they did not think it worth while to waste time in getting this pillar out, and as they drove they had thrown back the pipeclay all round it, so that it was wellnigh hidden, and might easily have escaped the notice of any one visiting the hole subsequently. The next morning I came down immediately after breakfast, and went to work. It took me all day to get out the rubbish, for, having no one to help me, I had to fill my bucket, and then to go up to the top and haul it up myself, so that the operation proceeded but slowly. However, by evening I had got a clear space all round the pillar, and everything ship-shape. When I came down on the morrow I hesitated at first about taking it out without timbering up a bit; but as the headings there, as indeed in the whole gully, were white cement, which stands well with very little support as long as no water gets at it, and the hole was dry, I thought I might venture. It didn’t take me very long to have it down when I once began. I got about three tubs of stuff out of it, which yielded what you see on the table, and pretty mad our Scotch friends would be, to be sure, if they knew that they had left behind them untouched the best bit in their hole.”
“Why, really, I think,” said I, “that our luck must be going to take a turn. So let’s have a try at your Nuggety Gully lead, and welcome. But, as I haven’t been in a bed these ten nights, I will just recruit myself beforehand with a good dose of sleep.”
The next morning, after a rather late breakfast, for we were too well off to be in a hurry about rising, we shouldered our picks and walked down to the theatre of our operations. Nuggety Gully was a long, narrow, winding valley, with very steep sides. The claims in it had been exceedingly rich, and it had been thoroughly worked out down to its mouth, where it opened into the White Horse Flat. At this point another gully, called Chinaman’s, which had likewise produced a large amount of gold, also entered the flat, and then it was generally imagined that the two leads had united into one which had been traced and worked for several miles, until it had run out. When we reached the supposed junction, Jackson said:
“Now I have often told you why I think that the two leads did not join, but, as I don’t believe that you ever paid any attention to my remarks, will repeat them for your benefit just once more. You remember that all the gold out of Nuggety Gully was precisely such as that we have at home, rough and shotty, whilst that out of Chinaman’s, and nine-tenths of that out of the flat, was smooth and water-worn. This leads me to think that, even if there was some slight communication between the two leads, there must have been another channel down which the greater part of the Nuggety gold took its way, otherwise, as it was much the richer of the gullies, the rough gold must have largely preponderated over the water-worn in the flat, while the very opposite was the case. Again, the last claim in Nuggety, just at the point where the leads are supposed to have united, was worked by some new chums, who didn’t understand very well what they were about. It is true that they told me there was little or nothing to be got out of the lower right-hand side of it, but, as they admitted that the bottom dipped there a good deal, it appears to me very likely that the current may have been too rapid to allow of any considerable deposit in that particular spot, but that the gold will be discovered again at the lower end of the incline. What I propose, therefore, is to sink in the flat about one hundred feet from the New Chum hole, and about a couple of claims to the right of the lead already worked out.”
“Very well,” said I, “go ahead.”
With that he marked out the hole—a round one—three feet three inches in diameter, for long ones had not come into fashion in those days.
As the surface was very deep and wet, we had, first of all, to dig a trench all round, about three feet deep, which we filled up with well-puddled clay, firmly rammed down, in order to prevent the water getting into the shaft. This took us till late at night, so we had to put off sinking till the next morning. After supper I went over to the Red Shirt to pay our score, and to let Sydney Bill know that we did not mean to accompany him to Avoca. There were seven or eight fellows in the store when I entered, all of whom, on hearing where we were at work, pronounced our proceedings absurd, which, however, did not prevent them from coming down next day and marking out claims all around us in case we should be lucky enough to strike anything. Having sunk their holes, each about a foot, and placed in them a pick or shovel as a sign of ownership, they devoted themselves to the laborious occupation of shepherding, which consists in sitting by a huge fire with a pipe in your mouth, telling or listening to interminable yarns about the Ballarat riots or some kindred subject, grumbling at your present, and regretting your past luck, diversified by occasionally lounging up to the sinking party for the purpose of examining the “tack” thrown up, and criticising the progress made.
We worked away very steadily, and by night we were down about twelve feet, and had our windlass fixed. The next day we got amongst some tough clay, which made the sinking anything but child’s play; however, we went at it with a will, and by knock-off time our hole was about twenty-two feet deep.
“The New Chum hole,” said Jackson, as he was putting on his shirt, after coming up from his last spell below, “was twenty-four feet. I allow a foot
