by the old workings. Where the gold lies from five to
seven feet beneath the surface, the whole ground is turned over to get
at it. But where the gold-bearing stratum lies from fifty to two
hundred feet deep, and shafts have to be sunk, the remains of the old
workings present a very different appearance. Then mounds of white
clay and gravel, from twenty to forty feet high, lie close
together--sometimes not more than fifteen feet apart. Climb up to the
top of one of these mounds, and you can see down the deserted shaft
which formerly led to the working ground below. Look round; see the
immense quantity of heaps, and the extent of ground they cover, almost
as far as the eye can reach up the lead, and imagine the busy scene
which the place must have presented in the earlier days of the rush,
when each of these shafts was fitted with its windlass, and each mound
was covered with toiling men. In one place a couple of engine-sheds
still remain, a gaunt erection supporting the water-tanks; the
poppet-heads towering above all, still fitted with the wheels that
helped to bring the gold to the surface. How deserted and desolate the
place looks! An abandoned rush must be as melancholy a sight to a
miner as a deserted city to a townsman. But all is not dead yet. Not
far off you can see jets of white steam coming up from behind the high
white mounds on the new lead, showing that miners are still actually
at work in the neighbourhood; nor are they working without hope.

Passing through the abandoned claims, we shortly found ourselves on
the brow of the hill overlooking the Chinamen's gardens, of which we
had come in search, and, dipping into the valley, we were soon in
front of them. They are wonderfully neat and well kept. The oblong
beds are raised some ten inches above the level of the walks, and the
light and loamy earth is kept in first-rate condition. The Chinamen
are far less particular about their huts, which are both poor and
frail. Some of them are merely of canvas, propped up by gum-tree
branches, to protect them from the wind and weather. But John has more
substantial dwellings than these, for here, I observe, is a neat
little cluster of huts, one in the centre being a well-constructed
weatherboard, with a real four-paned glass window in it.

Crossing the ditch surrounding the gardens upon a tottering plank, and
opening the little gate, we went in. The Chinamen were, as usual,
busily at work. Some were hoeing the light