pouch, he took out a small nugget of, perhaps, half an ounce in
weight, and saying, “You’re welcome to this. It’ll make a decent scarf
pin,” handed it to Mr. Blount.
But that gentleman declined it, saying, “Thanks, very much, but
I’d rather not.” Then, seeing that the owner seemed hurt, even
resentful, qualified the refusal by saying, “But if you would do me a
service, which I should value far more, you might introduce me to
some party of miners, with whom I could work for a month or two,
and learn, perhaps, how to get a few ounces by my own exertions. I
think I should like the work. It must be very interesting.”
“It’s that interesting,” said the bushman, all signs of annoyance
clearing from his countenance, “that once a man takes to it he never
quits it till he makes a fortune or dies so poor that the Government
has to bury him. I’ve known many a man that used a cheque book
as big as a school slate, and could draw for a hundred thousand or
more, drop it all in a few years, and be found dead in a worse
‘humpy’ than this, where he’d been living alone for years.”
“Strange to have been rich by his own handiwork, and not to be
able to keep something for his old age,” said Blount; “how is it to be
accounted for?”
“By luck, d—d hard luck!” said John Carter, whom the subject
seemed to have excited. “Every miner’s a born gambler; if he don’t
do it with cards, he puts his earnings, his time, his life blood, as one
might say, on the chance of a claim turning out well. It’s good luck,
and not hard work, that gives him a ‘golden hole,’ where he can’t
help digging up gold like potatoes, and it’s luck, bad luck, that turns
him out a beggar from every ‘show’ for years, till he hasn’t got a
shirt to his back. Why do I stick to it, you’ll say? Because I’m a fool,
always have been, always will be, I expect. But I like the game, and
I can’t leave it for the life of me. However, that says nothing. I’m no
worse than others. I can just keep myself and my horse, while
there’s an old mate of mine living in London and Paris, and swelling
it about with the best! You’d like to have a look in, you say? Well,
you stop at Bunjil for a week, till I come back from Bago; it’s a good