Very insidiously Kalgoorlie has risen to high eminence as a mining centre; it accomplished the eclipse of its sister camp some time ago, and by reason of its deep lodes it is likely to retain its supremacy indefinitely. To the individual miners a new strike or location is considered to be "played out" when limited liability companies begin to appear in their midst, as only in rare cases can fossickers succeed in compet.i.tion with machinery. However, the flat sand formations around Kalgoorlie have proved one of the exceptions to this rule, and the alluvial digger may still sink his shallow shaft here with every hope of success, and even in the proved "deep" country surface indications are abundant.

When my little party stepped from the train at Kalgoorlie, we saw before us a scattered array of wooden and galvanised-iron houses, white-painted, and glistening dully in the sunlight through an extremely murky atmosphere. On closer acquaintance the heterogeneous erections resolved themselves into a wide princ.i.p.al thoroughfare, aptly named Hannan's Street, after the honoured prospector of the Camp's main reef, and a number of side paths that bore t.i.tles so imposing that my memory at once reverted to the fanciful names distinguishing the crude log shanties of Dawson, where there were: Yukon Avenue, Arctic Mansions, Arcadian Drive, and Eldorado Terrace. Here, in keeping with the lat.i.tude of the city, more salubrious, if equally fantastic, were the various designations of the alleys and byways.

In the near distance we could see the towering tappet heads of the widely-known Great Boulder mine, and the din created by the revolving hammers of the ever-active stamping machinery a.s.sailed our ears as an indescribable uproar. But beyond the dust and smoke of these Nature-combating engines of civilisation, the open desert, dotted with its stunted mulga and mallee growths, shimmered back into the horizon.

Here and there a dump or mullock heap showed where the alluvial miner had staked his claim, but for the most part the landscape was unbroken by any sign of habitation.

"There's a lot of room in this country, boys," I said, as we stood un.o.bserved in the middle of the street and took in the scene.

"It's a deevil o' a funny place," Mac ventured doubtfully.

"It's a rale bonnie place," reproved Stewart, whom the inexpressible gloom peculiar to the interior country had not yet affected. "I'm thinkin'," he continued, with asperity, "that ane or twa men o' pairts like oorsel's were jist needed at this corner o' the warld."

"In ony case," Mac now agreed, "it's better than being meeserable at hame."

Instead of seeking the hospitality of one of the numerous hotels close by, we decided to begin our campaign in earnest right away, and get under canvas as a proper commencement. So we prospected around for a good camping site, and that same night we slept in our tent, erected about a mile distant from the township.

There was no water in our vicinity, and next morning Stewart set out with two newly-purchased water-bags to obtain three gallons of the very precious fluid at a condensing establishment we had noticed on the previous night, where, at sixpence a gallon, a tepid brackish liquid was sparingly dispensed. It should be understood that water, in most parts of Western Australia, is more difficult to locate than gold, and when obtained it is usually as a dense solution, salt as the sea, and impregnated with mult.i.tudinous foreign elements extremely difficult to precipitate.

"There's aye something tae contend wi' in furrin countries," Mac philosophised, as he leisurely proceeded to build a fire for cooking operations. "In Alaska there wis snaw, an' Chilkoots, an' mony ither trifles; bit here there's naething much objeckshunable let alane the sand an' want o' watter."

I agreed with him if only for the sake of avoiding an argument. "There may be a few--insects along with the sand, Mac," I hazarded cheerfully, and then I went into the tent to arrange the breakfast utensils.

"Insecks!" cried he derisively after me. "Wha cares fur insecks, I shid like tae ken? What herm is there in a wheen innocent muskitties, fur instance? Insecks! Humph!"

The absurdity of my remark seemed to tickle him vastly, and as he broke the eucalyptus twigs preparatory to setting a match to the pile he had collected, he continued to chuckle audibly. Then suddenly there was silence, a silence so strange that I felt impelled to look out of the tent and see what had happened; but before I had time to set down the tinware cups I held in my hands, his voice broke out afresh. "Insecks!"

I heard him mutter. "Noo A wunner----; bit no, that canna be, fur snakes hiv'na got feet, an' this deevil's weel supplied i' that direction. It's a bonnie beast, too. I wunner if it bites?" I gathered from these remarks that the valiant Mac had made the acquaintance of some unknown species of "insect" with which he was unduly interested. "If it's an inseck," came the voice again, "this countrie maun be an ex-tra-ord'nar'----Haud aff! ye deevil. Haud off! I tell ye." I hastened outside just in time to see my companion ruthlessly slaughter a large-sized centipede, which had evidently refused to be propitiated by his advances.

"It's a vera re-markable thing," said he, looking up with a perfectly grave countenance, "hoo they--insecks--persist in bringin' destruckshun on themsel's. I wis just pokin' this onfort'nate beast wi' a stick--in a freen'ly wey, ye ken--an' the deevil made a rin at me, wi' malishus intent, I'm thinkin', an' noo he's peyed the penalty o' his misguided ackshun."

[Ill.u.s.tration: STEWART PREPARING OUR FIRST MEAL.]

"In future, Mac," I warned, "you'd better not attempt to get on friendly terms with these--insects; a bite from a centipede might kill you."

"I'll gie ye best about the insecks," he returned thoughtfully, applying a match to the pile, "bit ye'll admit," he added, after some moments'

pause, "that it's maist ex-tra-ord'nar' tae see insecks o' sich onnaitural descripshun rinnin' aboot on the face o' the earth."

I fully concurred, much to his satisfaction, and just then Stewart arrived, perspiring under his watery load.

"Dae ye mean tae tell me," howled the new-comer, addressing no one in particular, "that ye hiv'na got the fire ken'l'd yet?"

"Ca' canny, Stewart, ca' canny," sternly admonished the guilty one.

"There's been a narrow escape here, ma man, a verra narrow escape."

Stewart's ruddy face blanched slightly, then slowly regained its colour when the slain centipede was pointed out. "Ye've raelly had a providenshul escape, Mac," said he. "Noo, staun aside an' let me get on wi' the cookin'."

Our first breakfast in camp was an unqualified success; it was not a very elegant repast, certainly, but the traveller must learn to forego all luxuries and enjoy rough fare, and we had already served our apprenticeship in that direction. Stewart, however, had lost none of his art in matters culinary, and, as he himself averred, could cook "onything frae a muskittie tae an Injun," so we had every reason to be contented.

"If we wur only camped aside a second Gold Bottom!" sighed Mac, getting his pipe into working order.

"It's a bonnie countrie," mused his companion, "wi' a bonnie blue sky abune, an' what mair could a man want?"

"I think we have had no cause to complain, so far, boys," was my addition to the conversation, "and I'll go into the township in an hour or so and make investigations as to the latest strikes. To-morrow we may make a definite camp."

And so the early day pa.s.sed while we rested and smoked, and recalled our grim experiences in the land of snows.

"It's mebbe wrang tae mak' compairisons," grunted Mac, "bit gie me the sunshine an' the floo'ers----"

"An' the centipedes!" Stewart slyly interpolated.

"D--n centipedes!" roared Mac; then he recovered himself. "Mak' nae mair allushuns, ma man," said he with dignity. "An' hoo daur ye spile ma poetic inspirashun?"

The sun was now well overhead and shooting down intense burning rays; the sky was cloudless, and not a breath stirred the branches of the dwarfed eucalyptii on the plains.

"It's a g-glorious day," murmured Stewart, mopping his perspiring forehead.

Mac chuckled: "Wait till ye see some o' the insecks the sun'll bring out," said he, "ye'll be fairly bamfoozled."

At this moment I was surprised to notice a man, armed with pick and shovel, approaching rapidly in our direction. As he came near I saw that he bore, strapped to his shoulders, a bundle of wooden pegs which had evidently been hastily cut from the outlying timber. "Some energetic individual thinks we have made a find at this camp," I thought; but I was mistaken. The stranger made as if to pa.s.s a good way off our tent; then he hesitated, looked back, apprehensively, it seemed to me, and came quickly towards us.

"What in thunder does yer mean by campin' here, mates?" he demanded hurriedly, grounding his shovel impatiently and letting his eyes roam in an unseeing manner over the surrounding country.

I had barely time to explain that ours was only a temporary camp, when, without a word, he shouldered his shovel and sped onwards into the brush.

"Maist onmainnerly behaviour," Mac snorted wrathfully. "Noo, if I meet that man again, I'll----" He stopped suddenly. "Ho, ho!" he chuckled, "there's mair o' them comin'; I begin tae smell a rat." We now observed what had caused the sudden flight of our visitor. Rushing from every shanty near the township, and issuing from the main street in a chaotic ma.s.s, a perfect sea of men bearing axes and picks and shovels came surging down on us. As we looked the fleeter members of the "rush"

forged quickly ahead, so that the spectacle soon appeared as a medley army advancing desperately at the double in Indian file.

There was no need to be in ignorance as to what it meant; we had seen the same thing often enough in Alaska when strikes on the Upper Klondike were frequent.

"Get the tent down, boys," I said, "and follow on when you're ready.

I'll represent this camp and see that it is not last on the programme."

Even before I had finished speaking, my companions were tugging wildly at the guy ropes, and loosening the wall pegs of the tent.

"We'll no be faur ahint," growled Mac from beneath the canvas folds which in his zeal he had brought down upon himself.

"Ye shid let me gang first," grumbled Stewart, "fur ye ken weel that I can sprint wi' ony man."

I seized an axe and shovel and awaited the approach of the van-leader of the struggling line of humanity, who was fast drawing near: not knowing the destination of the rush, it was necessary that I should follow some one who did. I had not long to wait. A lean, lanky true son of the bush, with nether garments held in position by an old cartridge belt, burst through the brushwood a few yards wide of us. His leathery face showed not the slightest trace of emotion, and though the heat was sweltering not a drop of perspiration beaded on his forehead. Heaven knows how often he may have taken part in a rush and been disappointed.

"Mornin', boys," he said genially. "Fust-cla.s.s exercise, this," and he pa.s.sed at a regular swinging pace, with eyes fixed straight ahead, steering a direct course.

"He gangs like clockwork," said Mac admiringly, gazing after him; "bit haud on. What's this comin'?"

The second runner was now coming forward at a rate that was rapidly annihilating distance; he had pa.s.sed the bulk of the others since he had joined the race, and I had been much interested in watching his progress.

"Guid Lor'," e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Stewart, stopping in his work of rolling up the tent, and gazing at the approaching runner in dismay. "Did ye ever see onything like that in a' yer born days?"

There was ample excuse for his astonishment. The fleeing figure was hatless, and otherwise ludicrously garbed--for Westralia. What Stewart called a "lang-tailie coat" spread out behind him like streamers in a breeze, a "biled" collar had, in the same gentleman's terse language, "burst its moorings" and projected in two miniature wings at the back of his ears, and a shirt that had once been white, bosomed out expansively through an open vest. Yet, notwithstanding his c.u.mbrous habiliments, he had well outdistanced his nearest "hanger-on," and it was plain that the wiry sandgroper still in front would have to screw on more speed if he meant to keep his lead long.