nd during our work I said without preface, "You'd better come
too;" "Right," said he, and the matter was settled. Godfrey, a son of one
of the leading Sydney families, had started life in an insurance office,
but soon finding that he was not cut out for city life, went on to a
Queensland cattle-station, where he gained as varied a knowledge of bush
life as any could wish for; tiring of breeding and fattening cattle for
somebody else's benefit, he joined the rush to the Tasmanian silver-fields
and there he had the usual ups and downs--now a man of wealth, and now
carrying his load of bacon and oatmeal through the jungle on the steep
Tasmanian mountains. While a field continues to boom, the up-and-down
business does not so much signify, but when the "slump" comes it is
distinctly awkward to be in a state of "down." It is then that the average
speculator bemoans his hard fate, can't think how he is to live; and yet
manages to do so by borrowing from any more fortunate fellow, and almost
invariably omitting to pay him back. A most lively and entertaining class
of men when shares are up, but a miserable, chicken-hearted lot when the
luck turns.

Some, however, of these wandering speculators, who follow from "boom" to
"boom," are of very different mettle and face their luck like men. Such a
one was Godfrey, who, when he found himself "broke" in Tasmania, set to
work and burned charcoal until he had saved enough money to pay his
passage to Perth; and from there he "humped his bluey" to Coolgardie,
and took a job as a miner on his uncle's mine until brighter times should
come. The Australian can set us a good example in some matters, and I must
confess with sorrow that nine out of every ten young Englishmen on the
goldfields, of the same class, would not only be too haughty to work, but
would more readily take to billiards, cards, and borrowing when they
found themselves in low water--and no man sinks lower than an English
"gentlemen" who has gone to the bad, and no one despises him more than an
Australian miner, or is more ready to help him when he shows signs of
trying to help himself by honest work. I had known Godfrey long enough to
be sure that, in the bush, he was as good a man as I could get, hard as
nails, and willing to work for other people, as energetically as he would
for himself, so long as they treated him fairly.

My party was now complete, and included a little fox terrier, "Val" by
name, whose parents belong to