he
blow. But there was a condition attached: if the man took advantage of
the offer Saulez would afterwards "go for" him. The man, who was
powerfully built, thought he had the game in his hands, so he hauled
off and struck Saulez a terrible blow between the eyes. But he soon had
cause to regret his action, for he got a most severe thrashing.

I once saw a very smart thing done by an old Australian digger named
Gardiner. He was the one after whom "Gardiner's Point," just below the
Middle Camp, was named. One afternoon he appeared at the Lower Camp
with a barrow, a pick, a shovel, a pan, and four pegs. The latter he
gravely hammered into the ground, enclosing a square with sides of a
hundred and fifty feet. In the middle of this stood the local branch of
the Natal Bank. Gardiner then entered the bank and gave notice to the
manager to remove the building, as the site was required for mining
purposes. This proceeding was strictly in accordance with the Mining
Law. The person giving notice in such a case would, of course, be
obliged to pay the expenses of removal.

Before the manager had time to recover from his surprise, Gardiner went
to a spot on the right-hand side of the steps leading to the bank
entrance, loosened a couple of square yards of the surface ground,
shoveled it into his barrow, and trundled the latter down to the
nearest part of the creek. After a short time he returned and informed
the manager that, as he had changed his mind, the bank need not be
shifted. Then he pulled out his pegs. Here is the explanation: Most of
the creek gold was crusted with flakes of ironstone, so that when
nuggets were brought to the bank for sale, they used to be placed in a
large iron mortar and pounded. The pounding was done by a native always
at the spot from which Gardiner removed the surface ground. This
practice had been followed for a very long time, and Gardiner inferred
that small particles of gold must have escaped from time to time under
the loose cover of the mortar and through the central hole in which the
pestle worked. The amount of the "wash up" was three and a half ounces.

Quite a large number of the diggers were known by nicknames; in most
instances these quite superseded the original patronymics. Most men who
knew the Transvaal thirty years ago will remember "Count" Nelmapius.
The title was subsequently dropped, but for years it was used, and
apparently enjoyed, by the holder. It may be of interest if I descr