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Kaffir, Kangaroo, Klondike; Tales Of The Gold Fields

<div class='lgc' style=''>  Kaffir, Kangaroo, Klondike.   TALES OF   The Gold Fields   --BY--   THAD. W. H. LEAVITT.   </div>  <hr class='pbk'/> <hr class='pbk'/> <h1 id='ch1'>A STRANGE PARTNER. An Australian Story.</h1> When the P. & O. steamer called at Albany, West Australia, only two passengers came on board, a young Englishman and his wife. Before we reached Sydney I made his acquaintance in the smoking room and he told me the following story. I give it in his own words: My name is Henry Detmold, I was born in Lincolnshire, England, and I am twenty-nine years of age. My parents were of the middle class and gave me a fair business education. When I was eighteen my father secured me a position in the County Bank at a very small salary; there I remained until two years ago. My salary had been increased to eighty pounds a year and I saw no prospect of an advance for years to come. I had never been out of my native county save two flying trips which I made to London for a few days during my holidays. By accident I picked up a copy of the Melbourne Age in which I read an account of the discovery of gold in Western Australia. The spirit of adventure, so strong in an Englishman’s blood, was aroused. I resigned my position and took passage for Sydney. From that point I made my way to Perth, the capital of West Australia. I took passage on the coach for Coolgardie, and during my trip over the desert of sand, which I was compelled to walk, my box only riding on the stage, I more than once came to the conclusion that a situation in a bank at a meagre salary was highly to be preferred to gold seeking with the thermometer at 120 degrees in the shade. Coolgardie was a wilderness of tents and fleas, with absence of water, and what was worse, I discovered that the prospector’s country lay still in the interior, but for shame and the knowledge that my position in the bank had long since been filled, I would have turned back. In Coolgardie I made the acquaintance of George Vail, a young Australian from Gipps Land, who like myself had been attracted to the west coast by the tales of wonderful finds made by the first comers to this land of sand and heat. Vail was very slight in build and in no wise adapted to roughing it as a miner, but such was his charm of manner that he won my sympathies and as we were attracted by our mutual ignorance of our new life and unfitness to cope with the difficulties which hedged us in we soon became inseparable companions and finally decided to strike out for the interior and try our fortunes. Our last money was expended in the purchase of a mule and provisions enough for a three months trip. The mule was to carry the provisions while we were to trudge alongside on foot. With swags strapped on our backs we turned our faces towards the east and bid good bye to Coolgardie. Fifty miles inland found us in the most bleak and desert-like country which you can imagine. We had turned to the north of the beaten track in the hope of coming upon a new field not taken up by the old-time and experienced prospectors, who over-ran like the locusts of Egypt. We camped upon the confines of a small creek, the only one in that part of the country. Day after day was spent in vain attempts to find a trace of gold, but so profound was our ignorance of mining that our ill success was no proof of the absence of the precious metal. A few miles to the north of the camp the sand plains terminated in a series of hills, almost mountains. This region we carefully avoided lest we should be lost in the hills. As a last resort we decided to explore the foot-hills, taking care to keep our camp continually in sight. To avoid fatigue we placed part of our supplies on the mule and with the tent advanced to the range which proved to be well watered, much to our surprise none of the water coming down to the plain, it being sucked up by the sand in a short distance. Our search was fruitless and we had determined to abandon our quest and return to Coolgardie when the following remarkable circumstances transpired. In consequence of Vail’s youth and lack of strength we had made a division of the work, he took charge of the culinary department while the hard labor fell to my lot. But for his skill in this particular I should have abandoned the search in two weeks. Given the most common materials he could be relied upon to prepare an excellent meal. One day while I was absent in the hills he found in the neighborhood of the camp a small piece of opal which evidently had recently been broken from its bed in the rock as the fracture was new and bright. Our conclusion was that we must have a neighbor but why he had not made his appearance known we could not conjecture. There was but one interpretation to be placed upon his desire to remain concealed and that was that he had hit upon a new field and was working it. We had never heard it stated that opals were found in the Colony, but Australia is a land where one is not surprised at any mineral discoveries. On the island were gold, silver, copper, iron, tin, diamonds and in Queensland opals. We resolved to prolong our stay and if possible discover the more fortunate prospector. We made a careful examination of the hills for traces and soon discovered them. On the fourth day we came upon a hut built in a secluded ravine, wherein we found an old man, who gave his name as Burton and stated that he had been in the country for months but had not succeeded in finding any gold. From that time an intimacy sprang up between us but we found the old man extremely reticent relative to his past life. Originally he had resided in Sydney, then in Melbourne, and finally had removed to the west coast. He was exceedingly feeble and ill-fitted to cope with such a life of hardships. From the first he conceived a strong partiality for Vail, who never tired in treating him to delicacies of his own making over the camp fire. We acted on hints given by our new friend, who evidently possessed a good knowledge of mining, but were not rewarded for our perseverance. At the end of two weeks the old man fell ill and we removed him on the mule to our camp where he could be made much more comfortable. Gradually he grew feebler, there was no disease, but a general breaking up of the system which indicated, but too clearly that the end was drawing near. To my surprise he manifested a strong desire to be left alone with Vail in the camp. They spent many hours in whispered conversations which excited my curiosity, but not a word fell from their lips which gave me a clue to the mystery, for mystery there undoubtedly was. One night the old man was very low, when he summoned me to his side and Vail went outside. The old man said, “I have made a wonderful discovery, what it is I cannot tell you. It is possible that you may make the same discovery, I cannot understand why you have not made it long since. I want you to promise a dying man that should you make the discovery before you return to Coolgardie that you will conduct yourself as an honorable man and an Englishman.” I gave my promise and an hour later the old man breathed his last. The grief of Vail was so intense and poignant that I was still more mystified, though I knew that he loved the stranger dearly. The grave was dug beneath a flowering wattle and Vail, in a low, sweet voice, broken by sobs, read a chapter from the Testament as the last burial rite. The following day I proposed that we set out on our return trip. “I have a secret,” Vail answered, “which if you can unravel may result in the betterment of our fortunes. The old man strove in vain to solve it and his life paid the forfeit. It was for that he came into this colony and not for gold.” “I have given the old man my word of honor that I will not profit by the discovery if I should make it,” I answered. An embarrassed look spread over my companion’s face and to my surprise his eyes filled with tears. “Bear in mind,” I continued, “If it will benefit you, any thing in my power will be freely done and you can rely upon me to the last.” “I know it, I know it,” Vail answered, “fortunately your pledge in no way applies to the subject to which I refer.” “Do not deceive me,” I said hotly, for a moment I doubted him. “A man’s honor is not to be bartered for gold.” “I pledge you my word,” was the answer, “and I value your honor as highly as you do yourself.” I grasped him by the hand and we were friends again. What could it all mean? I was gravitating from mystery to mystery and not a ray of light to guide me. “I have the riddle in my pocket,” Vail continued, “perhaps you can read it.” He drew out a piece of paper yellow with age on which had been traced with a pen some rough outlines. Vail spread the paper out with a careful hand and said, “This is supposed to be a map of this part of the country. The white paper represents the flat or sand country, that is the plain, the small crosses the hills, this circle a marsh, lagoon or pond in the rainy season and the square an island of dry land in the centre of the marsh, the three small dots on the island, three gum trees growing only a few feet from each other and what is to be remembered is that the gum trees all lean toward a common centre. If you can find the island and the gum trees there is every reason to believe that our fortune is made. Years since a convict buried under the gum trees a magnificent band of Queensland opals.” I started and exclaimed, “some of the opal of which you found a small piece.” “Yes.” “And the old man came here to look for it.” “He did.” “And confided the secret to you?” “Yes.” “We must find it.” “Certainly.” “And begin the search to-morrow.” “I am agreed.” I was consumed with curiosity but did not attempt to pry into the mystery as Vail did not volunteer any further information. My experience in the back blocks had taught me that to succeed we must proceed in a methodical manner. I studied the map carefully and concluded from the crosses representing the hills that the marsh could not be inland from the plain more than five miles and that all that was necessary was to go in that distance, using the compass, then move over half a mile at right angles and come out to the plain. This system repeated over and over again would cover the whole area and must in the end prove successful. Vail agreed with my conclusion and that night we went to bed confident that the prize was ours. The following morning we set out, taking the mule with us to carry two days’ provisions, and incidentally to give Vale a lift when he grew weary, for I realized that his strength would soon give out on such a march, though I refrained from mentioning that part of the program to him, for he was exceedingly sensitive on that point. Day after day we toiled over the hills but caught sight of no lagoon. It was the height of the hot season and a great drought was upon the land. I had learned enough of this strange country to know that we were confronted with great difficulties as the rainy season would transform the entire country. Where now were only barren stretches would be great sheets of water or broad and fertile plains covered with waving grass. A week passed and at heart I was utterly discouraged, but Vail never grew despondent. But for him I should have abandoned the quest. His courage never faltered, it was only a question of time and we would succeed. In two weeks nature drove us from the field, every stream and lagoon in the hills dried up and at our camp the water was running very low. I felt that it was dangerous for us to remain any longer and urged the necessity of our departure upon my companion. He pleaded for delay but could furnish no reasons of any weight. To my surprise I found that under his gentleness was a firmness much greater than my own. In those trying days I used the word ‘stubborn.’ One Sunday Vail reluctantly consented that we should take up our march to the south on the following day. My spirits rose at the prospect, but Vail was depressed and wandered aimlessly along the first range of foot-hills. I was up bright and early making up the packs when Vail went down to the water hole for a supply with which to cook the breakfast. He came back with astonishment written all over his face. “Come down here,” he cried, seizing me by the arm. I hurried down. Imagine my surprise when I saw oozing from the parched ground, which, owing to the intense heat, had cracked in a thousand places, opening to a depth of five or six feet in some spots, the water, clear and sparkling. “What does it mean?” he asked in a whisper. “It has rained on the higher ground,” I answered. “Rained! Who ever heard of it raining at this season in West Australia?” I was compelled to acknowledge that I never had. “You may as well unpack,” Vail said, “there can be no danger on the score of water.” I had no answer to this and grumbling I untied the packs and ate my breakfast in moody silence. I could see that Vail was watching and that while he regretted my disappointment he was equally determined to have his own way. That day we walked up among the hills and found the water bursting out of the ground in numberless places. We knew that it had not rained. The coming of the water was so strange and unaccountable that I was compelled to confess that I was unable to find any reasonable explanation. On the other hand Vail regarded the outflow as an intervention of providence on our behalf. We waited for several days until the low-lying places were filled with water and then began our search again. Not three miles from the camp we came upon a low plain which we had repeatedly, crossed in the dry time but never for a moment had we associated it with the hidden opals. Simultaneously we stopped and Vail pointed to the higher ground in the centre, now surrounded by a sheet of water only about a foot deep, but constantly rising. We waded across and in half an hour had located the blue gum trees which answered the description laid down on the map. Then we hurried to the camp and returned with picks and shovels and began digging. The ground was very hard and our progress slow. Evening was coming on but such was our impatience that we resolved to continue the work. The moon came up and by its dim light we toiled steadily, at last we struck ground that was not so compact, this encouraged us and we sank our pick at that point perpendicular. At the depth of five feet we unearthed a small wooden box, we burst off the cover and in the pale moonlight saw five bands of opal more beautiful than anything we had ever dreamed of. Each band was fully four inches in breadth and about eighteen inches long. “Hurrah!” shouted Vail trembling with excitement. We started for the camp, crossed the lagoon and entered a thick piece of scrub to take a short cut. I heard not the slightest sound, suddenly something stung me in the calf of the leg, the pain was intense and I cried out, “I have been bitten by a snake.” I put my hand down and found instead that a small spear was sticking in my leg. My presence of mind returned instantly and I whispered, “down on the ground, quick and crawl into the bush to the right.” I could feel the blood trickling from the wound and hurriedly bound it up with my handkerchief. Vail crouched by my side and was trembling violently. Fortunately our revolvers were in our belts and we drew them and waited and listened. The silence was oppressive and every minute seemed a half hour. All that could be heard was the beating of our hearts. My loss of blood must have been great for I whispered to Vail, “I am growing faint.” He put his arm about me and asked, “Shall we venture it?” “No we are in an ambush and shall be speared if we move.” The next instant half a dozen spears sped through the air over our heads and thrashed through the brush wood. We flung ourselves prone on the ground and waited, all was silent again. Then I fainted from loss of blood. Ere I lost consciousness I had a faint impression that tears were dropping on my face. When I regained consciousness, I found that another handkerchief had been bound around my leg above the wound and a small stick passed beneath it and then twisted until the handkerchief had been pressed into the flesh, thus stopping the flow of blood and probably saving my life. There we lay hour after hour till at last the welcome dawn came creeping in through the haze. I was too weak to sit up and remembering Vail’s fright when the attack was made, gave up all hope. With the daylight our position would become known to the natives and in a few minutes all would be over. When I looked around Vail was no where to be seen. I cursed him for a coward and half struggled to my feet. Then there rang out the sharp report of a revolver followed by shot after shot in rapid succession. The boy was making it exceedingly hot for them. I put my hand to my belt, my revolver was gone; this accounted for the number of shots which had been fired. Then followed a pause and another volley of shots, he had reloaded and reopened the battle. A little later he dashed up the path to my side, a revolver in each hand, and cried “all that are not dead have run away, we must get to the camp.” He helped me to my feet, but I could not touch the wounded foot to the ground. Leaning on his shoulder and hobbling forward we at last reached the open, there my strength gave out. Vail propped me up with my back to a boulder and bathed my forehead with some water and gave me a drink. “Good luck,” he cried, “there is the mule,” which we had hobbled and left in the vicinity of the camp. A few minutes later I was on its back and soon reached the tent. It was impossible for me to go forward, but the natives had paid too dearly for their attack to return and undoubtedly left that part of the country for we saw no more of them. Vail explained that when he saw that daylight was coming on he decided that the only way to save our lives was to creep out and make a rear attack upon the savages, thus creating the impression that they had been attacked by a rescuing party. The ruse had proved successful and resulted in the death of three natives and the wounding of several others. Beyond a doubt I owe my life to the skill and forethought of my companion. The wound in my leg healed slowly and was exceedingly painful, two weeks passed before I was able to set out for Coolgardie, which we reached without further incident. From Coolgardie we journied to Perth. At the capital we met a French expert who paid us four thousand pounds for the box of opals, which I have since learned was much less than the market value of the gems. The money was equally divided and I was preparing to return to England when Vail made a request which I felt I could not refuse, it was that I should remain in Perth for one month during his absence, he would meet me at the Imperial hotel, on the first day of the following month at eight p.m. I opined that the request was connected with the promise which I had given to the old man at the camp and anxiously awaited the denouement. So anxious was I that there should be no delay that I took up my residence at the hotel a week previous to the termination of the time. The last day I carefully scrutinized all new comers, but saw nothing of my friend. When eight struck I abandoned all hope and grew anxious lest some accident had befallen him. On the stroke of the clock a bell boy came down the stairs informed me that a lady wished to see me in private parlor “A.” So far as I was aware I was not acquainted with a lady in Australia and I concluded that a mistake had been made. The parlor was dimly lighted, when I entered a young lady advanced from the window and said, “Mr. Detmold, I believe.” I answered in the affirmative. “Be seated, please.” The voice was exceedingly sweet and musical and awakened memories, but in vain did I attempt to recall when or where I had heard it. There could be no doubt but that England was the place and I awaited impatiently a clue to the explanation. “I have learned,” the lady continued, “that you made a trip into the interior with a very dear friend of mine, George Vail, and that you both returned to Perth, where a handsome sum was received for the sale of a large package of opals. You will pardon me for my frankness but I am deeply interested in Mr. Vail.” I heard an audible sigh and mentally registered the conviction that Vail was a deuced lucky fellow, for the woman was exceedingly attractive if not beautiful, and so far as I could see possessed a figure of exquisite proportions. “Your statement in reference to Vail and myself is true,” I answered, “and any information which I possess will be freely furnished.” “Thanks, will you kindly furnish me with Mr. Vail’s address?” “Unfortunately I am unable to do so. He left me in Perth one month ago to-day and was to meet me at this hotel at eight o’clock this evening, in fact I was waiting for him when I received the message from you.” “A remarkable coincidence,” she murmured, with a perceptible shade of doubt in the tone which irritated me. “Another question, where did Mr. Vail go to from Perth?” “I have not the slightest idea.” “He mentioned no place, merely stated that he would meet you in one month?” “Yes.” “Who beside Mr. Vail and the purchaser was cognizant of the fact that you had sold the opals and received a handsome sum for them?” “No person, the purchaser requested that no mention should be made of the transaction, alleging that if it became known that such a large quantity of opals had been thrown on the market it would depreciate the value of the gems.” “What became of the purchaser, may I ask?” “He left the following day for Albany and informed us that it was his intention to proceed to Sydney and take the first Messargeries steamer for France.” “Then it follows that you were the only person remaining in the colony who was aware that Vail had been paid a large sum of money?” “The only person.” “May I ask what was the sum?” “Two thousand pounds.” “And you received?” “An equal amount.” “One more inquiry and I have finished. I have never heard that opals were found in West Australia. Did you discover an opal mine?” For the first time I hesitated, I could feel that I was being closely watched by my fair questioner and an uneasy feeling crept over me. Was I free to explain the circumstances under which the opals came into our possession? I was well aware of the old superstition that opals were unlucky and it was possible that our gems possessed this peculiarity. “You have not answered my question Mr. Detmold.” “No, I was considering; the opals came into our hands in a very remarkable manner and I do not know whether I should be justified in divulging the facts without Vail’s consent, as it was through him that they were discovered.” “I may be frank with you, Mr. Detmold, and thus remove your doubts. From my infancy I have been the constant companion of Mr. Vail, he is my dearest friend and I feel a deeper interest in him than in any other person. I am convinced that were George present he would, under the circumstances, ask you to speak unreservedly.” What more could a lady say? She referred to him as George, quite unconsciously, there could no longer be any doubt as to their relations and as I glanced at her I forgot my momentary irritation and envied the lucky fellow. Then I told her the story of the finding of the box, of Vail’s tact and bravery, and my admiration for the man. As I proceeded her face flushed and a new light came into her eyes. She paused a little time to recover her composure and then said: “What you have told me is very wonderful. Have you the map of the ground where the opals were found?” “No, Vail took it with him.” “All of your statements have been direct but unfortunately, for you there is not the slightest evidence to corroborate them.” “No, only my word.” “Permit me to point out the facts,” she continued. “You go into the interior with Mr. Vail, you find four thousand pounds worth of opals under very peculiar circumstances, you return and dispose of them and on the day the sale is made Vail disappears and since that day he has not been seen or heard from. I may tell you that it is known that he did not leave Perth by any of the coast steamers, he did not proceed to Albany and take passage on one of the European steamers which call at that port, there is no trace of his having gone to Coolgardie or to any other point in the interior. What has become of him?” “I would give my share of the money gladly to know,” I answered, now thoroughly alarmed. “If I am compelled to apply to the police they will undoubtedly ask your assistance.” Then it dawned upon me that in stating the facts I had woven a net of suspicion around myself. Could it be possible that I was already in the hands of a female detective? My blood ran cold. But a few weeks previous, Deeming, the murderer, had been arrested in the interior and taken to Melbourne, public feeling ran high in the colony and Justice ran a swift race. Conscious of my innocence my courage rose and rising I said, “My advice is that you at once report the matter to the police.” “And my advice is,” said the lady also rising, “that you Henry Detmold, are a great goose.” I stared in amazement. What could it all mean. “It may be so,” I answered stiffly. “You came here to meet George Vail?” “I most certainly did.” “And you don’t know him when you see him?” Was my brain failing? I advanced to my persecutor and instantly it flashed upon me. I threw my arms around the girl and carried her up to the light, there was no mistake, it was George Vail, he struggled to get free but I held him fast. “You humbug,” I cried, “Even now when I know, you, you look pretty enough to kiss.” “Do you think so?” “Yes,” and remembering that he had kissed me when I lay in a half faint, I stooped down and kissed him on the cheek blushing as I did so, but George’s blushes were carnation compared with mine, and I set him down on his feet. “What a stupid,” he said. “I quite agree with you.” “And you don’t understand yet?” “Understand what?” “That—that I am a girl.” “A girl!” “Yes.” “And always have been?” I blundered out in my blunt way. The only answer was a merry, ringing laugh. “Yes and always have been.” “Then I am doubly glad I kissed you.” “You held me.” “No matter. Tell me, I am dying of impatience.” “You made a promise to the old man, did you not?” “Yes, and I think I understand. He must have known the secret. How did he discover it?” “He knew immediately and accused me and I confessed.” “And I was a stupid.” “You did not find me out.” “Who are you?” “Helen Vail.” “I am glad that I have only lost one half of my old partner, you are at least Vail.” Then Helen told me her story. Her father had been an English half-pay officer, who on his retirement from the army had emigrated to Sydney in the hope of bettering his condition. His wife having died the first year after his removal to the colony, his health had failed, and as Helen was the only child her life had been devoted to his care. They had no surviving relatives, so far as she was aware and when her father died a few months previous to my meeting her at Coolgardie, his sudden death had thrown her pennyless on the world, as his pension ceased with his life. After the small debts and the funeral expenses had been paid there only remained some fifty pounds with which to face the world. She had proceeded to Melbourne and in vain attempted to secure employment as a governess, but her youth and inexperience had proved an insuperable stumbling block and as a final resort she had resolved to go to the gold fields of West Australia and to facilitate her project and chances of success she had donned a man’s dress and made her way to Coolgardie. Her timidity and the roughness of the miners had prevented her from engaging in any enterprise and but for my arrival and friendship she would have been compelled to acknowledge her sex and obtain menial employment. When she had concluded I said, “The natives found you an excellent shot, even if you are a girl.” “Yes, my poor father taught me the use of the revolver when I was a little girl and that gave me confidence and taught me the tactics, for I had frequently heard him give his experience of adventures among the hill tribes in India, where he was stationed for many years.” “After we came to Perth, why did you retire for a month and why did you lead me through such a maze before you made yourself known?” “I had to secure a wardrobe and to remove the tan from my face and then I wished to ascertain whether you would recognize me in my new apparel.” “Where did you hide?” “I went to the Convent and the good sisters took me in and were very kind to me, though the Lady Superioress read me many lectures on the enormity of my sin and extracted from me a solemn promise that I would never again commit the offence.” “There is one more mystery which I should like to have cleared up. It is, how did the old man become possessed of the secret that a box of opals had been buried on the island in the lagoon?” “For many, many years he was a squatter in Queensland, so long ago that the penal system was in vogue in that and the other colonies. He had on his station at one time a ticket-of-leave man, by the name of Vigor, whom he treated very kindly. Vigor had been transported for forgery and was intelligent and had been educated as a mining engineer. He was a lifer and the one object of his life was to return to England, where he had a wife and family. The old man won his gratitude by attempting to secure a pardon for him from the authorities at Sydney, but his efforts were fruitless. Vigor, who acted as a shepherd on the run, found the opal mine but kept the secret to himself. He dug out the opals found by us and made his escape to Sydney where he hoped to obtain passage to England but failed. He was finally captured and sent to Norfolk Island from which place he was transferred to West Australia. The opals he had buried in Sydney. On his return to Sydney he dug them up and carried them with him to the west coast. At Perth, as a ticket of leave man he went into the service of a squatter. He wrote a letter to his old master in Queensland telling him that he possessed the treasure and that if he did not succeed in getting away from the colony he would bequeath it to him on his death, sending at the same time the sample which I found. Vigor kept an accurate account of the journey into the interior in search of pasture and made a map of the route as well as of the spot where he ultimately buried the opals. Vigor and his companions made their way to the coast but he was so enfeebled in consequence of the hardships he had undergone that he died in a few months after his return. Previous to his death he sent to his old employer the map by which we located the treasure. The old man had no faith that he would be able to find the opals and years passed by. The great drought in Queensland ruined him and as a last resort he came to Perth and set out on his search, encouraged by the fact that the gold miners were pouring into the interior. You know the rest and his unfortunate death at our camp. When he ascertained that I was a girl and had heard my story his heart went out to me and he gave me the treasure, provided I could find it.” “And you divided it with me.” “That was only fair.” “Yes, if you had been a man, but as you are not you must take my part less the few pounds which I have spent.” “Never,” exclaimed Helen the tears coming to her eyes. I had loved Vail as a boy, as a girl I worshipped my old partner and the result was that within one week we were married and are now on our way to the Illawarra district where I propose buying a small station and settling down for life. Some time in the future my partner and I will go to Queensland and on the run of the old man, which is on the Barcoo, attempt to locate the original opal mine. Eighteen months later I was not surprised when I read in the Sydney Morning Herald that a very rich deposit of opals had been discovered on the Barcoo by a man named Detmold. <hr class='pbk'/> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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