but the present ferment has made them forget everything in the glitter of their own mines, and all comfort is laid aside; money is the idol, and making it is the one mania which absorbs every other thought.
The walking inhabitants are of themselves a study: glance into the streets—all nations, classes, and costumes are represented there. Chinamen, with pigtails and loose trowsers; Aborigines, with a solitary blanket flung over them; Vandemonian pickpockets, with cunning eyes and light fingers—all, in truth, from the successful digger in his blue serge shirt, and with green veil still hanging round his wide-awake, to the fashionably-attired, newly-arrived "gent" from London, who stares around him in amazement and disgust. You may see, and hear too, some thoroughly colonial scenes in the streets. Once, in the middle of the day, when passing up Elizabeth Street, I heard the unmistakeable sound of a mob behind, and as it was gaining upon me, I turned into the enclosed ground in front of the Roman Catholic cathedral, to keep out of the way of the crowd. A man had been taken up for horse-stealing and a rare ruffianly set of both sexes were following the prisoner and the two policemen who had him in charge. "If but six of ye were of my mind," shouted one, "it's this moment you'd release him." The crowd took the hint, and to it they set with right good will, yelling, swearing, and pushing, with awful violence. The owner of the stolen horse got up a counter demonstration, and every few yards, the procession was delayed by a trial of strength between the two parties. Ultimately the police conquered; but this is not always the case, and often lives are lost and limbs broken in the struggle, so weak is the force maintained by the colonial government for the preservation of order.
Another day, when passing the Post-office, a regular tropical shower of rain came on rather suddenly, and I hastened up to the platform for shelter. As I stood there, looking out into Great Bourke Street, a man and, I suppose, his wife passed by. He had a letter in his hand for the post; but as the pathway to the receiving-box looked very muddy, he made his companion take it to the box, whilst he himself, from beneath his umbrella, complacently watched her getting wet through. "Colonial politeness," thought I, as the happy couple walked on.
Sometimes a jovial wedding-party comes dashing through the streets; there they go, the bridegroom with one arm round his lady's waist, the other raising a champagne-bottle to his lips; the gay vehicles that follow contain company even more unrestrained, and from them noisier demonstrations of merriment may be heard. These diggers' weddings are all the rage, and bridal veils, white kid gloves, and, above all, orange blossoms are generally most difficult to procure at any price.
At times, you may see men, half-mad, throwing sovereigns, like halfpence, out of their pockets into the streets; and I once saw a digger, who was looking over a large quantity of bank-notes, deliberately tear to pieces and trample in the mud under his feet every soiled or ragged one he came to, swearing all the time at the gold-brokers for "giving him dirty paper money for pure Alexander gold; he wouldn't carry dirt in his pocket; not he; thank God! he'd plenty to tear up and spend too."
Melbourne is very full of Jews; on a Saturday, some of the streets are half closed. There are only two pawnbrokers in the town.
The most thriving trade there, is keeping an hotel or public-house, which always have a lamp before their doors. These at night serve as a beacon to the stranger to keep as far from them as possible, they being, with few exceptions, the resort, after dark, of the most ruffianly characters.
On the 2nd of September, the long-expected mail steamer arrived, and two days after we procured our letters from the Post-office. I may here remark, that the want of proper management in this department is the greatest cause of inconvenience to fresh arrivals, and to the inhabitants of Melbourne generally. There is but ONE SMALL WINDOW, whence letters directed to lie at the office are given out; and as the ships from England daily discharged their living cargoes into Melbourne, the crowd round this inefficient delivering-place rendered getting one's letters the work, not of hours, but days. Newspapers, particularly pictorial ones, have, it would appear, a remarkable facility for being lost EN ROUTE. Several numbers of the "Illustrated London News" had been sent me, and, although the letters posted with them arrived in safety, the papers themselves never made their appearance. I did hear that, when addressed to an uncolonial name, and with no grander direction than the Post-office itself, the clerks are apt to apropriate them—this is, perhaps, only a wee bit of Melbourne scandal.
The arrival of our letters from England left nothing now to detain us, and made us all anxious to commence our trip to the diggings, although the roads were in an awful condition. Still we would delay no longer, and the bustle of preparation began. Stores of flour, tea, and sugar, tents and canvas, camp-ovens, cooking utensils, tin plates and pannikins, opossum rugs and blankets, drays, carts and horses, cradles, &c. &c., had to be looked at, bought and paid for.
On board ship, my brother had joined himself to a party of four young men, who had decided to give the diggings a trial. Four other of our shipmates had also joined themselves into a digging-party, and when they heard of our intended departure, proposed travelling up together and separating on our arrival. This was settled, and a proposal made that between the two sets they should raise funds to purchase a dray and horses, and make a speculation in flour, tea, &c., on which an immense profit was being made at the diggings. It would also afford the convenience of taking up tents, cradles, and other articles impossible to carry up without. The dray cost one hundred pounds, and the two strong cart-horses ninety and one hundred pounds respectively. This, with the goods themselves, and a few sundries in the shape of harness and cords, made only a venture of about fifty pounds a-piece. While these arrangements were rapidly progressing, a few other parties wished to join ours for safety on the road, which was agreed to, and the day fixed upon for the departure was the 7th of September. Every one, except myself, was to walk, and we furthermore determined to "camp out" as much as possible, and thus avoid the vicinity of the inns and halting-places on the way, which are frequently the lurking-places of thieves and bushrangers.
On the Sunday previous to the day on which our journey was to commence, I had a little adventure, which pleased me at the time, though, but for the sequel, not worth mentioning here. I had walked with my brother and a friend to St. Peter's Church; but we were a few minutes behind time, and therefore could find no unoccupied seat. Thus disappointed, we strolled over Princes Bridge on to the other side of the Yarra. Between the bridge and the beach, on the south side of the river, is a little city of tents, called Little Adelaide. They were inhabited by a number of families, that the rumour of the Victoria gold-mines had induced to leave South Australia, and whose finances were unequal to the high prices in Melbourne.
Government levies a tax of five shillings a week on each tent, built upon land as wild and barren as the bleakest common in England. We did not wander this morning towards Little Adelaide; but followed the Yarra in its winding course inland, in the direction of the Botanical Gardens.
Upon a gentle rise beside the river, not far enough away from Melbourne to be inconvenient, but yet sufficiently removed from its mud and noise, were pitched two tents, evidently new, with crimson paint still gay upon the round nobs of the centre posts, and looking altogether more in trim for a gala day in Merry England than a trip to the diggings. The sun was high above our heads, and the day intensely hot; so much so, that I could not resist the temptation of tapping at the canvas door to ask for a draught of water. A gentleman obeyed the summons, and on learning the occasion of this unceremonious visit, politely accommodated me with a camp-stool and some delicious fresh milk—in Melbourne almost a luxury. Whilst I was imbibing this with no little relish, my friends were entering into conversation with our new acquaintance. The tents belonged to a party just arrived by the steamer from England, with everything complete for the diggings, to which they meant to proceed in another week, and where I had the pleasure of meeting them again, though under different and very peculiar circumstances. The tent which I had invaded was inhabited by two, the elder of whom, a powerfully-built man of thirty, formed a strong contrast to his companion, a delicate-looking youth, whose apparent age could not have exceeded sixteen years.
After a short rest, we
