‘So far, so good,’ said Mr. Newstead. ‘We shall want a lot of stores—machinery too. All sorts of eatables and wearables. No end of sundries, which will “foot up” to a total of some importance. Where shall we get them in your absence? Everything seems to be at war prices.’
‘I’ve fallen on my feet in that matter also. That you can get everything on a goldfield, has always been a contention of mine. It’s a sort of Universal Provider shop, once it’s been established sufficiently long to attract the regulation army of Adullamites. A goldfield is created for them, and they for a goldfield. We’ve got two first-class wages men, and I’ve found the ideal storekeeper and general agent.’
‘What’s he like?—has been a gentleman, Lord help him! I can’t say I care for that brand.’
‘Wait till you see him, that’s all. He’s an old schoolfellow of mine, and his wife’s a lady, if ever there was one, as I think you’ll admit. I guarantee him.’
‘Well, if you do that, it’s all right, of course.’
‘I vouch for him absolutely. We can depend on not paying a shilling more than the current market price, and on getting everything good of its kind.’
The return journey and voyage were so little eventful that they require no mention in detail. The local papers were full of highly coloured references to the phenomenal find at Waters’ Reward, for which a lease had been granted to Messrs. Banneret and Waters.
‘The actual prospector was Mr. John Waters, a pioneer miner, experience in California, Australia, New Zealand, and South America. His name was sufficient among the mining community to account for any fortunate discovery in the world of metals. It was not the first, by a dozen or more. That he had not profited permanently by his well-known rich finds in former days and other climes, must be attributed to the spirit of restless change and hunger for adventure, so characteristic of the miner’s life. He had “struck it rich,” in mining parlance, again and again. But the “riches had been of the winged description,” had flown far and wide—were, for practical purposes, non-existent. There may have been a certain degree of imprudence, but what golden-hole miner hasn’t done the same? The fortunate rover lends and spends, ever lavish of hospitality and friendly aid, as if the deposit was inexhaustible. “Plenty more where that came from,” is the miner’s motto.