e
have I been sinking holes and puddling for five months, and hav'n't
made enough to pay my tucker and the Government license, thirty bob a
month. I am a mason, and I threw up twenty-eight bob a day to come
to this miserable hole. Wherever you come from, young man, I advise
you to go back there again. There's twenty thousand men on Bendigo,
and I don't believe nineteen thousand of 'em are earning their grub."

"I can't well go back fifteen thousand miles, even if I had money to
take me back," answered Philip.

"Well, you might walk as far as Melbourne," said the hairy man, "and
then you could get fourteen bob a day as a hodman; or you might take
a job at stone breaking; the Government are giving 7s. 6d. a yard for
road metal. Ain't you got any trade to work at?"

"No, I never learned a trade, I am only a gentleman." He felt mean
enough to cry.

"Well, that's bad. If you are a scholar, you might keep school, but
I don't believe there's half-a-dozen kids on the diggin's. They'd be
of no mortal use except to tumble down shafts. Fact is, if you are
really hard up, you can be a peeler. Up at the camp they'll take on
any useless loafer wot's able to carry a carbine, and they'll give
you tucker, and you can keep your shirt clean. But, mind, if you do
join the Joeys, I hope you'll be shot. I'd shoot the hull blessed
lot of 'em if I had my way. They are nothin' but a pack of robbers."
The hairy man knew something of current history and statistics, but
he had not a pleasant way of imparting his knowledge.

Picaninny Gully ended in a flat, thinly timbered, where there were
only a few diggers. Turning to the left, Philip found two men near a
waterhole hard at work puddling. When he bade them good-day, they
did not swear at him, which was some comfort. They were brothers,
and were willing to talk, but they did not stop work for a minute.
They had a large pile of dirt, and were making hay while the sun
shone--that is, washing their dirt as fast as they could while the
water lasted. During the preceding summer they had carted their
wash-dirt from the gully until rain came and filled the waterhole.
They said they had not found any rich ground, but they could now make
at least a pound a day each by constant work. Philip thought they
were making more, as they seemed inclined to sing small; in those
days to brag of your good luck might be the death of you.

While Philip was away interviewing the diggers, Jack showe