  ——— Many others came, amongst them being Captain Anderson, an old sheller in the waters of Torres Straits, and the owner of a complete plant and station on Friday Island. He has in his possession a splendid collection of pearls obtained by him in the pursuit of his avocation during the last ten weeks, their value being about £300, one of them weighing 8¼ carats, an egg-shaped pearl of remarkable beauty and lustre, and without a flaw, being valued by him We weighed anchor on Friday morning, having, after all, been delayed longer than we expected, got safely through the passage in a strong ripping tide, and after an uneventful voyage down the Gulf of Carpentaria, we sighted, about midnight on Saturday, a light that pointed out the anchorage off the mouth of the River Norman. We steered a course as straight as an arrow for the lightship, shewing that our captain and his officers must have kept a very good reckoning, and I cannot close my remarks upon this part of our journey without bearing ample testimony to the kindness and courtesy of Captain Leggett throughout the voyage, and to the care and attention bestowed upon the passengers by one and all connected with the ship. We cast anchor off the Norman River bar between twelve and one a.m. on Sunday, and the steam tender “Dugong,” under the command of Captain Campbell, came alongside in the small hours of the morning to convey passengers and luggage up the river to Normanton, so that we had to turn out pretty early in order to save the tide, and partake The anchorage at Kimberley is a wild dreary looking waste of water as viewed from the deck of the small steam tender, it being fully fourteen miles off the shore with scarcely anything visible to break the monotony of the scene, the land lying very low and fringed with the mournful looking mangroves so prevalent on the northern coast of Queensland; but steam is up and away we go, shaping our course by means of the buoys laid down to mark the course of the very circuitous channel which we have to follow, bounded on either side by shallow sand banks covered with sea birds of various kinds, who here find a congenial home, the only land in view being on the starboard side and only just discernible above the water’s edge, whilst some few miles off lies a ship which has brought out a cargo of rails for the Gulf railway, but has made the mistake of keeping too far out, she having anchored in five fathoms of water and unbent her sails preparatory to discharging her cargo, but as it was almost impossible for the lighters to lay alongside in such an exposed position, her captain was making preparations to bring her a few miles closer in and nearer to the lightship, in order to enable them to get through the work. We cross the bar safely and shortly afterwards sight the Telegraph Station at Kimberley, and as the Dugong is making fair progress we are not long before entering the mouth of the river, and a blast from the whistle brings off old Bob, the boatman, to receive a few telegrams, conveying the fact of our arrival to the Normanton agents of the Company, who have to make provision for our conveyance from Baffle Group to the town, as the Dugong, drawing six feet of water, is unable to proceed any further than that point in the present state of the tide. The Telegraph Station is situate on the left hand bank of the river as we enter, and seems a lonely enough spot in all conscience, but I am told the old man in charge has been there for years, and seems fairly contented with his lot; his immediate neighbours consist of a tribe of aboriginals to whom he is very kind, but they all received a terrible fright during the hurricane that almost destroyed Burketown, as it came tearing across here with terrific force sending a wave of water right across the point, reaching half way up the little house with the red door, situate on a sandbank a short distance from the beach, and making the darkies believe their last day was at hand. The river here is a noble looking stream carrying about five fathoms of water, the depth from the bar to the mouth averages about four, and is nearly a mile in width, and taking into consideration that not one pound of public money has been spent in its improvement, it is, in its natural state, one of the finest rivers in the colony; but the bar sadly wants dredging in order to allow ocean-going steamers to enter the river, where they could obtain safe anchorage in all weathers and discharge Here we observe the blackfellow in all his native dirt and ugliness—numbers of both sexes, many of whom are clad in the costume of the Greek slave—standing on the bank watching us as we steam rapidly by, and shortly afterwards we pass Messrs. Burns, Philp and Co.’s steam launch undergoing an overhaul on what Captain Campbell calls his gridiron—a slip invented by himself for the purpose of occasionally having a look at the bottom of the vessel he commands. About ten miles from Kimberley we pass the Red Bluff, a low-lying red ridge, situate about a mile back from the river, and chiefly remarkable for the agitation that has lately sprung up with regard to the construction of a railway from there to Normanton; but one can hardly recognise as sound economy the idea of running a railway over flooded country, on a course parallel with a navigable river, especially as the surrounding land seems to consist entirely of swamps and salt clay pans, which could never be made available for any useful purpose. Fifteen miles up we pass the mouth of Walker’s Creek on the left hand, on which there are some good waterholes about twelve miles back from the river, near where the telegraph line to Kimberley crosses it, as well as some very fairly grassed country of decent quality; and some distance further on we pass the mouth of Wells Creek, also coming in from the same side, whilst on either hand we pass numerous mangreve-lined small inlets; in fact, one could almost call them ditches so narrow are they, whilst the country is so level that the windings of the river itself are something to be remembered, our boat’s head being pointed to nearly every quarter of the compass during the passage; and some idea may be formed of its twistings and turnings by the knowledge that it is fully 50 miles from Kimberley to Normanton by the river and only 20 in a direct line by land. As it is now about mid-day we have the pleasure of interviewing the steerage passengers at dinner, and a fearful and wonderful performance some of them go through in the operation, two or three individuals being exceptionally expert at the Japanese trick of knife Passing Double Island I was astonished at the enormous number of Spoonbills perched upon the trees; they were literally packed in thousands, this being a favourite breeding ground for them, and some distance higher up the river the Captain gave me the word to look out for an alligator, and sure enough, on arriving at the spot indicated, near one of the beacons erected as a guide, we saw the scaly monster sunning himself on a grassy bank, and succeeded in getting within twenty yards of him before he glided silently into the water, where, with a swish of his tail, he quietly disappeared from view. He caused a great commotion amongst our passengers, many of whom had never seen such a sight before, and all were on the look-out for another of the tribe whose habitat was a little further on, their curiosity being duly gratified as the saurian was at home, but hearing the steamer approaching he also backed quietly astern, and as we came abreast, his jaws and little twinkling eyes were all that could be discerned for a moment as he plunged silently beneath the wave. Some little distance below the Battle Group we passed the barque Lucy and Adelaide, of Sydney, with her nose in the bank, and evidently aground till a good tide should give her a lift, making it rather difficult for us to pass, but we managed it safely, and shortly after one o’clock we made fast to the primitive landing at the Group, where a string of wagonettes, buggies, &c., were in waiting to convey us to town. Planks were run ashore, passengers and light baggage landed, the balance being transferred into a lighter for conveyance up the river to the wharf at Normanton, and we take our seats in the conveyances provided for the six miles drive which has to be covered before our journey is ended, and in about an hour we are safely deposited at Hely’s Transcontinental Hotel, where a cordial welcome from the hostess and many old friends greets us on our arrival. After a good bath and a cup of tea we drive down to the wharf in the hotel trap to secure our luggage which had just arrived in the lighter, a crowd of people being congregated on the same errand; and I witnessed about as good a rough-and-tumble performance in connection with it as I ever wish to see again. The light packages, portmanteaus and tin travelling trunks, had been bundled down into the bottom of the hold, and the heavy packages thrown promiscuously upon them, bursting open locks and squeezing them out of shape in a manner very annoying to their owners; and many were the curses, not loud but deep, bestowed upon the lighte Fortunately, they all renounced whiskey until the time expired, when they had an old-time spree just to treat resolution, and then, I believe, handed over the whole of the stakes to some charitable institution. We have to wait in Normanton from Sunday until Tuesday morning, and in the meantime amuse ourselves as best we may, but there is very little in the town or its surroundings to interest the traveller, and time passes listlessly enough to those who have neither business or occupation to while away the time. The town of Normanton itself is very well situated, being built on a hard, red ironstone ridge, which no amount of traffic ever cuts up; the only inconvenience suffered being caused by the clouds of fine red dust that occasionally sweep through the streets, and which clings to one’s clothes with the tenacity of a Bathurst burr. It is also well supplied with banks, the New South, Queensland National, and Royal being well represented, whilst the hotels are also numerous and well kept, Hely’s, O’Shaughnessy’s, Rafferty’s, and Davis’ being amongst the principal ones, but I must not forget to mention the hotel kept by the Meriga family, it being quite an institution in Normanton, and received a very suggestive appellation in the olden days when residents and visitors did not care to walk too far for a “nip,” as in consequence of its being fully a quarter of a mile from the nearest house of entertainment they found that the walk made them so excessively thirsty that it was unanimously christened “the dry stage,” a title it still retains to the present day; and between ourselves, there are many worse ways of passing away an hour than a visit to the above place in the evening, as in the first instance, you have an opportunity of cultivating a thirst that you would not sell to a lushington for less than a “fiver,” and secondly, there are two of the nicest and brightest girls one could wish to meet, ever ready to entertain visitors with a musical treat such as one rarely hears, and certainly never expects, in such an out-of-the-way place. It was on a Tuesday morning at 4 o’clock when I was woke up to make ready for the journey to Croydon, as Cobb and Co.’s coach starts punctually at 6. An appetising breakfast was placed upon the table shortly after 5, to which we pay strict attention, and, with luggage packed, are at the booking office shortly before the time appointed, Some little delay occurs through the absence of a break-block, it being unsafe to proceed without that very necessary adjunct to our safety, but at length we get properly fixed, and steering for the river are soon safely on the punt and being towed across to the other side, all hands being requested to alight during the operation for fear of an accident. We get across all right, and stowing ourselves on board get fairly under way for the diggings, and I am pleased to find we are in charge of a very experienced whip in the person of Jack Lennard, a well-known driver in times gone by on the Namoi River, in New South Wales, where he used to tool the coach between Narrabri and Walgett for Bob Nowland, at the time he was running opposition to M‘Namara, Vickery and Co., when passengers were carried 150 miles for £1. We swap yarns about old times, and many are the anxious enquiries Jack makes about old friends, many of whom have gone over to the great majority since he left that part of the country, and his heart fairly warms as I give him the latest news concerning those still left behind. Our route lies through miserable-looking country, the principal features consisting of level teatree flats, with patches of quinine and coolabah, all of stunted growth, scattered throughout with here and there noisome-looking swamps, at some of which we observe carriers camped, whilst the sound of the bells on their horses and bullocks resound on every side, there being over 150 teams on the stretch of road 120 miles in length, between Normanton and Croydon. The dust as we proceed becomes something frightful, in fact, in all my travels I never saw anything like it, as it is inches deep everywhere on the tracks, smothers the trees and bushes by the roadside, and follows us throughout the journey like a cloud, settling on our clothes, burying itself in our hair, finding its way into our boots, and penetrating to our lungs in the most aggravating manner, and we are not sorry for a short respite obtained at one of the carriers’ camps abovementioned, as Jack, who seems to be universally well known, observes some goats being milked, and pulling up his team produces a whisky bottle, and with the addition of some fresh milk begged from the carrier’s wife, concocts a very welcome refresher. We pass enormous flocks of crows, who seem to hang to the roads in a very suggestive manner; pass some very lengthy bullock teams containing from 18 to 24 bullocks, all in very fair condition and in some instances really fat, and following the course of the Carron River, arrive at the Twenty-mile, our first stage out, where we change horses, have a cup of tea, and shortly afterwards are again We pull up for a few minutes at Munro’s, have a refresher and away, shortly afterwards meeting a carrier, who, with the proverbial Queensland hospitality, invites us one and all to “have a booze,” at the same time producing a bottle of the real “Mackay,” but as we have no water with which to dilute it, we have to pass, and shortly afterwards pull up at our stopping-place for the night—a fairly comfortable hotel kept by Mrs. Paterson—where we obtain a plentiful supply of water to enable us to get rid of the dust—a good supper of wild duck being in the meantime prepared, to which you may rest assured we paid strict attention when placed upon the table. The Croydon coach meets us here, and after solving the problem of stowing away fifteen passengers in six rooms, we are very soon safe in the arms of “Murphy,” and sleep the sleep of the just until daybreak next morning, when the cry of “All aboard!” rouses us to prepare for another day’s journey. After a hearty breakfast we make an early start, with a change of drivers, Jack taking the back track to Normanton, our whip turning out to be a genuine specimen of a “Frenchman” from the Emerald Isle, named “Barney,” who is a real gem in his way, and enlivens the journey by many quaint remarks, and more especially by the way in which he renders the chorus of two or three popular songs, his performance of “Jack’s come home to-day” being simply indescribable. As the track on this stage has again become very heavy we have a five-head team, four horses and a mule, the latter getting fits from Barney, and being continually sneered at as “Irish,” for “shure, yez There is a nice, clean-looking hotel here kept by Mr. Griffin, formerly well known about St. George, and some distance away on the bank of the lagoon the irrepressible Chinaman has settled down and formed a very fair garden, with the produce of which he supplies carriers and travellers, as well as the hotel. Between the hotel and the Chinaman’s garden I come across a spot where repose the last remains of poor old Frank Stubley, at one time one of the richest miners in Charters Towers, and a man well known and esteemed throughout the whole of Northern Queensland for his liberality and generosity. He lies at the foot of a box tree, a short distance from the water’s edge, and on the tree is carved the following inscription:— S A C R E D “J. Gill, 7th May, 1887.” Poor fellow! He died at last in poverty, but I with many others can safely say that he was no one’s enemy but his own. We have a bit of trouble at this stage as the groom is as drunk as an owl. There are no horses in for a change and the team we have been driving is pretty well tired, but we fix the nosebags on them in case we have to go further, and in the meantime scour the country in the immediate vicinity to try and discover the missing mokes; but all efforts are fruitless, and after a spell of a couple of hours we again yoke up and proceed upon our way—leaving the drunken groom riding around in a vain endeavour to discover the objects of his search. We managed to nail one fresh nag, which did not belong to the firm and had never been in harness before, so were treated to a bit of life at starting, as he bucked and kicked, mixing himself up in the traces and going nearly mad; but he eventually kicked himself clear and away we went, Barney being quite equal to the occasion. The dust still brings forth curses both loud and deep, but the country gradually improves, although still of very poor character, and we meet on the way many carriers, some of whom are accompanied by their wives. Our team by this time, through having to run the double stage, is getting nearly done, so shortly after leaving Creen Creek most of us get out and walk the distance between there and the Carron River, a good four miles stretch, that under the warm rays of a tropical sun increases our temperature considerably; the tedium of the journey being now and then varied by the remarks of such carriers we pass on the road, who call each others attention to the style of locomotion adopted by the passengers per Cobb and Co. The crossing of the Carron is very heavy, being a bed of deep, wet sand, so that all hands have to alight, but the change is only a few yards distant, and we are very pleased to see a fresh team awaiting our arrival, as we are all pretty well baked, and in no humor for another long stretch on foot. So while the fresh horses are being put to, we stroll over to the tent occupied by the groom and his wife, where we find a “drop of the craytur” and a very acceptable cup of tea. The road, after leaving the river, is very heavy for about eight miles, consequently our progress is but slow, and it is nearly sundown before we get on to better travelling country; but Barney here lets them slip, so that we get over the ground pretty rapidly, although it is nearly dark when we cross the “12 mile,” where we discern a range of hills on our left, being the first elevation we have seen since leaving Normanton. Six miles from Croydon we pass the Golden Gate, a very suggestive and appropriate name for the first claim met with on the main road to the field, but as it is now very dark, and the track is full of ruts, stumps and other obstacles, we have to proceed very slowly and carefully for fear of accident, there being no lamps on the coach to guide us on our way. Two or three miles from Croydon we cross Station Creek, where there is a very good waterhole, into which “Barney” drives for the purpose of giving his horses a drink, water being rather a scarce article in the town itself. We get a bit mixed with a couple of stumps between here and the town, but extricate ourselves safely at length, and shortly afterwards we come in sight of the lights of Croydon twinkling ahead, pulling up in a few minutes to deliver the mails at the post-office, from whence we proceed down the main street, and about 9 p.m. we finally alight at our journey’s end on the verandah of Harries and M‘Cabe’s Imperial Hotel, where a large crowd is assembled to witness our arrival. Host M‘Cabe turns out to be a very old friend whom I had lost sight of for some years, and consequently we were mutually pleased to renew our former acquaintance, and for my own part I felt delighted to meet some one in a new country like this whom I had formerly known so well, as it made me feel quite at home from the start. A good bath and a good supper soon put everything to rights, and the fatigues of the journey are soon forgotten, so we stroll round to the ballroom, where about 12 couples are enjoying themselves on the light fantastic, the fair sex being especially conspicuous by their dresses and good looks. Strolling round next morning I was very much struck by the inconvenience and delay caused by the inadequate provision made for the public when seeking letters or telegrams at the hovel that at present does duty for a post-office. Just imagine a crowd of people waiting outside a pigeon-hole cut in a sheet of galvanised iron, at which one person only can be attended to at a time, with an individual inside attending to their wants who is just about as slow as they make them on earth, and who certainly might materially improve his performance of letter-sorting 100 per cent. by practising shuffling and dealing with a pack of cards in his leisure moments. A friend of mine said to him one day— “Did you ever attend a funeral?” “Yes. Why do you ask?” “Well, I was wondering if you did, how on earth you managed to keep up with the procession.” And I wondered as well, after calling two or three times at the office for letters. They do a great business at Croydon in telegrams, for since the office was opened the receipts for 24 days’ work amounted to £276—not a bad performance by any means, either on the part of the department or the public. Outside the hotel at night, after tea, whilst smoking the calumet of peace, we congregate together, discussing the news of the day and retailing anecdotes, in which performance the well-known agent for the A.M.P. Society in Northern Queensland, Jack Warby, stands pre-eminent. His yarns about “Greasy Bill” and the “Lamb of God” are very rich. The former, an old northern prospector, is noted for his antipathy to water; in fact, he has not been known to wash either himself or his clothes for years, and on one occasion, when he felt very ill, the doctor was called in to see what could be done for him, and prescribed, to Greasy’s horror and astonishment, a hot bath. “Good heavens,” says Bill, “it would kill me for certain. Wouldn’t a bucket of warm slush do as well?” Whilst “The Lamb” could almost give a rabbit a fair start in sandy ground, his peculiarity being, that when thoroughly overcome with liquor—a very common occurrence—he selects the softest spot he can find outside the “pub,” and lying down at full stretch, face downwards, gropes and scratches the sand over himself until he is almost out of sight, when, thoroughly comfortable, he sleeps off the fumes of the drink, and arises from his burrow like a giant refreshed. Social life on the goldfield, like on all new rushes, is of a very free and easy style. Footracing in the streets is a common occurrence, whilst many a time and oft a fight will occur to vary the monotony. A word or two with regard to the situation of Croydon—its food and water supply, &c.—may not be out of place and will help to give some idea of the town and its surroundings to those who may feel inclined to visit it in the future. The site selected for the township is fairly picturesque, with its background of hills in the immediate vicinity; but I am of opinion that a far more healthy and convenient spot could have been chosen within a few miles, either on the banks of Station or Cork Creeks, where a permanent water supply could have been secured at comparatively small cost for a large and thriving township such as I feel assured Croydon is bound to become in the near future, but judging from present appearances there will be some difficulty in obtaining a full and plentiful supply of that necessary element for the wants and requirements of the residents at present situated; whilst as for the sanitary arrangements, I am afraid if immediate steps are not taken with regard to the necessary precautions for the preservation of health, there will be such an outbreak of typhoid fever by the time the next wet season comes round that will carry terror to the hearts of every resident on the field. Notwithstanding the cry raised by some that there is bound to be a terrible famine when the wet season arrives, I to a certain extent beg to differ from them, as there will always be an ample supply of beef of first-rate quality available, which, together with the vegetables—sweet potatoes, &c., supplied by the Chinese gardeners who have settled in large numbers on the various creeks—will stave off starvation pure and simple for an indefinite length of time; besides, there is yet plenty of time before the wet season to lay in sufficient stocks of flour to carry them through until the roads are again dry and hard enough for wheeled traffic. The Divisional Board have done good work by sinking a well 100 feet deep, which now contains 60ft. of water of excellent quality, which fairly supplies the wants of the inhabitants, so that there is no immediate fear of a water famine; but increased provision will be necessary as the population increases before another summer comes round. The hotel charges are most reasonable, as I obtained very comfortable quarters at M‘Cabe’s for two guineas per week, the table being excellent, the waiting and general attendance first-class, whilst the beds were clean and comfortable to a marked degree, spring mattrasses being the rule, and one fully appreciates the luxury of a spring mattrass in a climate like this; whilst during my stay a bath was always available, so that altogether one might be in far worse places than Harries and M‘Cabe’s Hotel. Horses can also be procured at reasonable figures for riding about to inspect the various lines of reef—15s. being the charge for a full day and 10s. for a half day from Messrs. T. Banks and Co., through Mr. M‘Cabe, and I have to thank the latter gentleman for many kindnesses shown to me during my visit, not the least of which was his accompanying me in my various rides round the field, acting as pilot and giving me much useful and valuable information, not only with regard to the various well-developed mines, but also to many new finds and good shows which have not yet been properly tested. Of Croydon as a goldfield I cannot speak too highly, after a thoroughly careful inspection of the field, but it is no poor man’s diggings. It will require time, machinery and capital to An account of my trip to Croydon would scarcely be complete without a few facts with regard to the returns from some of the principal mines on the field; and a short statement regarding the discovery of payable gold may not be out of place. Mr. W. C. Browne, who was the manager of the Croydon cattle station, had some idea that gold existed on the run, and about two years ago had a couple of men named Walter and Dick Aldridge working at the station under a contract for fencing. These men were old diggers, and on the completion of their contract Mr. Browne supplied them with rations, tools and horses, and paid them wages to go out and prospect the surrounding country in the vicinity of the station, as the locality abounded with quartz reefs cropping here and there above the surface, the outcrop in some places extending for miles. They discovered gold in a few days, and reported the find to Mr. Browne and also to Warden Samuels, of Georgetown, at the same time making application for a reward for the discovery. The warden came over to Croydon, and after careful inspection was well satisfied of the payable nature of the field. He laid off the Lady Mary Prospecting Claim, giving a reward claim of 500ft. in addition to the four men’s ground applied for, making the area 700ft. by 400ft., and at the same time laid off the Lady Mary No. 1 north, on behalf of two men named Derisley and Flowers, who set to work and raised 14 tons of stone, 6 tons of which were sent over to the machine at Georgetown, about 150 miles distant, as a trial crushing, it not being expected to yield more than 3oz. to the ton, but the return was 7oz. 3dwt. per ton, the stone not being picked in any way, but forwarded just as it was taken out of the ground. This handsome result, on being made known, immediately caused a rush, and notwithstanding the counter attractions of Kimberley in Western Australia, which for a time delayed the development of the field by taking away many of the mining population, the Croydon of to-day is a monument to the enterprise and perseverance of the Australian miner, and bids fair before long to rival, if not surpass, any goldfield in Australia. Taken right through, and judging by what I have myself seen and inspected, there is a great and prosperous future in store for Croydon, but very little will be done to develop the undoubted richness of the field until after the next wet season, the machinery at present erected being utterly inadequate for the requirements of the place; but as this defect will soon be remedied—there being several large crushing plants now on the way to Croydon—the country will have a better chance of being prospected, and those who have been waiting for months to obtain The cost of passage is as follows:—From Brisbane to Normanton, by A.U.S.N. Co.’s boats, every alternate Thursday, saloon, £14; steerage, £9. By Cobb and Co.’s coach, Normanton to Croydon, leaving every Tuesday and Saturday 6 a.m., £3 10s., two days’ journey, 120 miles; 2s. 6d. for meals and bed on the road, whilst good accommodation can be obtained at the principal hotels in Croydon for £2 2s. per week. The first claim visited by me after arriving on the field was the Caledonian P.C., Mr. Tom Carvill being the Manager, and he kindly constituted himself my guide, philosopher and friend during my inspection of this grand property. The main shaft was down 56 feet, the reef averaging about 2 feet, between well-defined foot and hanging walls. Levels had been driven each way from the shaft for a distance of 30 feet, and there were from 250 to 300 tons of stone at grass giving prospects of fully 3oz. per ton, and with the stone in sight in the claim it struck me that it was a regular bonanza to the fortunate shareholders. It was discovered in rather a singular manner, by a digger who, in searching for his horse, happened to get “bushed”; wandering about for hours and eventually stretching himself out for a rest on the cap of the reef, and whilst lying down thinking, as Paddy says, of “nothing at all,” his eye was attracted by the promising appearance of the stone, which induced him to break off a portion, when to his surprise and delight he saw specs of the precious metal imbedded therein; and whether this discovery was the means of restoring his bump of locality to its normal condition or not may be a matter for conjecture, but the fact is that he shortly afterwards made his way to the main camp of the diggers situated on Station Creek, arriving there shortly after darkness had set in, when he acquainted a man named Connolly with his discovery, showing him the specimen and describing the locality to the best of his recollection. Connolly saw him safely wrapped in slumber—and worn out as he was by his ramblings, you may rest assured he slept very soundly—when believing in the old proverb “The early bird catches the worm,” he started away before daylight, succeeded in finding the place indicated by Hallen, followed up the tracks, discovered where the piece of quartz had been knocked off the reef, pegged out a claim of four men’s ground and returned quietly to camp almost before his absence had been remarked. But he acted in the meanest possible way to the man who gave him the information, by refusing to give him a share in the ground he had secured, preferring rather to give it to his own particular friends. I heard this claim had been sold to a syndicate for £12,000 cash, and in my opinion and that of many others, they have got a long way the best of the deal. We next had a look at the Highland Mary line, which some think is a continuation of the Caledonian, in which opinion I hardly share as I fancy they are two distinct and separate lines of reef, the Highland Mary running north and south with a dip to the east, whilst the Caledonian runs nearly east and west clipping to the south. I went down the Highland Mary P.C. for 90 feet on the underlay, following a well-defined reef about two feet thick all the way, which seems to improve as it goes deeper—and the next claim visited was No. 2 South, on the same line. This is a grand claim; is down on the underlay 135 feet, with a two foot reef shewing good gold; has between 120 and 130 tons of stone at grass prospecting for nearly 4ozs., their last crushing of 211 tons realized 838ozs., and to shew the estimation in which this line is held I may state that nearly the whole of it has been blocked off and shafts are being sunk to catch the reef at a depth. The line extends some considerable distance, and further south takes the name of the Sir Garnet, which has crushed 326 tons for 873ozs., but there is no doubt it is all one and the same line of reef. Next day, Friday, we started for Table-top, and I may remark that coaches run to this place daily, so that visitors to the locality will have no difficulty in reaching their destination, passing on the way the Mountain Maid line, near which is erected Bibby’s mill on Belmore Creek, about 3 miles from town; then the Welcome Reef, seven miles out; and about fourteen miles out pull up at the Rising Sun P.C. claim, better known as the ten men’s ground, and as the miners are just having their mid-day meal, we are invited with true bush hospitality to partake of a pannikin of tea and a slice of bread and beef, which invitation we heartily accept. There are three reefs in this ground, which belongs to Thomas and party and the one they are at present working is three feet in thickness; there is a large body of stone at grass estimated to crush 4ozs. to the ton, and I have no hesitation in saying this is really a splendid property, which must become very valuable when properly developed. The road to Table-top from Croydon runs through ridgy country shewing every sign of being gold-bearing, but the dust fiend is with us in all his intensity for the whole of the journey, and we are not sorry to pull up at Busted’s Hotel for a wash and refreshment. In the afternoon we wander about on foot looking at the various claims in the vicinity; visiting “Mount Morgan” and “The Federation,” to the south of the township—the former, a well developed mine with good prospects, and the latter in an embryo stage, but with a very good show. In the evening we wander northwards visiting the celebrated “Bobby Dazzler” P.C., a grand mine with wide, well-defined reef, situate in the face of an immense bluff, plainly visible from the main street of the little town—The Republic—The Great Eastern—The Surprise—and a prospecting area not yet named, all of which were discovered by an old hand named Jack Murphy; but the travelling is Table top at night is not the most lively place in the world, there being little or nothing in the way of amusement as yet provided, if we except a shooting gallery and a sort of free and easy held in the dining-room of Bell’s Hotel to the strains of a cracked concertina, where between twenty and thirty men have congregated together to pass a musical (?) evening, and pay their attentions to a lively looking servant girl, who seems to have a kind word and a smile for one and all. The buildings, as well as the inhabitants, are of the rough and ready type, the former being constructed entirely of saplings and galvanised iron, put together in a hurry just to answer present requirements, the native earth still doing duty for a floor, boards being far too expensive a luxury to indulge in at present; whilst the dust, which is thicker and more penetrating even than that of Croydon, envelopes the place like a cloud. The butcher’s shop, if the term can be applied to an open shed roofed with boughs, contains some splendid beef, in fact, I never remember seeing meat of better quality exposed for sale even in Sydney, and the diggers are to be congratulated on the fact that an inexhaustible supply of that indispensible necessary of life is always procurable at reasonable rates; whilst it is evident that rest and refreshments will not be difficult to obtain in future, there being already three hotels in full swing—Busted’s, Bell’s, and Mulvey’s—with two more in course of erection; but I am sadly afraid the water supply is none of the best, its permanency being a matter of very grave doubt. Coaches run daily between Table-top and Croydon, the service performed by Messrs. Carrington Bros, being thoroughly reliable, whilst others are also available, but for scouring the country in the vicinity horses are almost a necessity—except one prefers to explore on foot—the country being very rough and broken. We obtain a shake-down at Messrs. Black and Co.’s store, who have a monopoly of the business here in that line at present and appear to be doing very well indeed, and as a good supply of blankets is available, manage to make ourselves very comfortable, passing a quiet and peaceful night, and awaking thoroughly refreshed from the fatigues of the previous day. On Saturday we take a run out towards Laycock’s and inspect a prospecting area known as the “Harry Lee,” or “Bellbird,” which contains three reefs in the ground and prospects very fairly, but as the claim has not yet been developed to any great extent, it is rather hard to predict what its future may be, although to my mind, it appears very promising indeed, whilst the Grace Lee, The Golden Valley Co., Coles’ the Vasco de Gama, Black Diamond, and other lines speak well for the prosperity of this portion of the field. We start back for Croydon in the evening by way of the Twelve-mile and Homeward Bound, and travelling as we are in a light buggy, find the bridle-track we are following fearfully rough and very trying to our pair of ponies, We have to climb a nasty spur covered with boulders leading on to the ridge on which the Homeward Bound line of reef is situated, so all alight, and two of us lead the horses whilst the remaining one of our party pushes hard behind; but the ponies are staunch and true, and although during the process everything falls out at the back, including cushions, whip, screw-wrench, specimens, &c., we eventually gain the summit without further mishap. We pulled up at the Homeward Bound No. 1 and 2, amalgamated, and I was very much struck with the permanent character of the reef running down between remarkably well defined foot and hanging walls, and evidently making and improving as the depth increases, whilst the heap of stone, about 300 tons, at grass augurs well for the prosperity of the shareholders and speaks volumes for the systematic working of the mine, as the stone is of excellent quality, well impregnated with the precious metal, a trial crushing of 40 tons having returned a total of 188oz. 10dwt., whilst in many of the lumps of quartz now in the paddock gold is distinctly visible. I also have a look at the Homeward Bound P.C., a splendid claim, reef well defined, ground 350ft. by 400ft., trial crushing, 58 tons for 170oz. The Homeward Bound No. 1 South, 10 men’s ground, 500ft. by 400ft., with equally good prospects. The Waterfall Nos. 2 and 1 North on a grand reef about 2ft. 6in. in thickness, the latter claim also shewing a good cross line of reef dipping south into the ground of the Waterfall, P.C., 500ft. by 400ft., one of the best claims on the field, having a splendidly defined reef from 18in. to 2ft. in thickness running right through the ground, which has prospected remarkably well on both the north and south boundaries, thereby proving its permanency, and which crushed 85 tons for 336ozs. of gold, value £3 11s. 10d. per ounce, the highest price yet realised for any gold discovered on the field. This claim has a shaft down 80ft. on the underlay, and they are now putting in levels preparatory to stoping out, and to shew the estimation in which this property is held, the land to the eastward has been blocked off, notwithstanding that they will have to sink over 200ft. to cut the reef, and a shaft 70ft. in depth put down, the shareholders working night and day. On the south boundary of the Waterfall comes No. 1, “The Ayrshire,” ten men’s ground, belonging to a Townsville Company, land Notwithstanding the change of names this is really the one line of reef as I traced the outcrop for miles through the Homeward Bound, Waterfall, &c., and have no hesitation in saying that it will turn out one of the best lines discovered on the field, the reef throughout being of fair thickness, the stone crushing well, and the gold of excellent quality. I also visited the Ross Shire line on which several claims have been taken up, all showing good prospects, which will, in my opinion, turn out well as it becomes more developed, and I shall watch with interest the returns of the trial crushing from the P.C. now going through the mill. Some little distance below the Ross Shire is the Upper Twelve-mile, around which many claims are at work, of which I heard very favorable accounts, but not having time to visit them cannot speak definitely as to their prospects, as I intend to confine my description to those claims which came under my own personal observation, and of which I can speak with some degree of confidence. On Monday, accompanied by host M‘Cabe, I went out in a southeasterly direction, visiting the “Waratah,” which had been passed by for months as a “Buck Reef,” but in which the fortunate prospector is now obtaining good gold; then across to the Harp of Erin, a grand line, the trial crushing of 96 tons from the P.C. having realised 586ozs., on which many claims are being worked, shewing splendid prospects, and from there to the Baal Gammon, on Gorge Creek. This reef was found in most peculiar country on the banks of the above creek, in the midst of a bed of sand which covers the reef for a depth of about eight feet, and shewing on the surface very little indication of the treasure lying immediately below. The reef itself lies nearly as flat as a table with scarcely any dip observable, and is worked on the paddocking system, the sand being first cleared away, then about two feet of mullocky stone forming the hanging wall, and the reef lies clear for working, the stone being taken out very easily; and a large body is now lying at grass awaiting its turn to go through the mill, which should pay a handsome dividend to the shareholders. From thence we proceeded across to the celebrated Croydon King line and went down the prospecting claim to the bottom of the underlay, the claim being systematically worked under the supervision of a practical manager. The reef is large, well defined, and carries good stone, a large quantity being now ready for raising, showing gold freely, and crushings from this line have gone as high as 27ozs. to the ton. Nos. 1, 2, 3 and 4 North have all opened out along the line of reef, a lot of work having been done and some grand heaps of stone stacked ready for the machine, whilst a lot of about 50 tons from No. 2, which went through at the time of my visit, realised 14½ozs. per ton, another This line is also blocked off from end to end, one shaft being down about 70ft., and from all appearances will prove a very valuable property. I also paid a visit to “The Richmond,” lying east of the “Croydon King,” and found it to be a grand reef about 2ft. in thickness, situate about one-third of the way up a large bluff range and dipping easterly into the hill, shewing splendid prospects along the face right through the P.C. and No. 1 North, some specimens that were shewn to me being fairly dazzling in their richness, and I should not be at all surprised to see this line turn out almost as well as anything on the field. The “Mountain Maid” and “Babe” lines lying parallel to each other on the short-cut to Table-top were also visited, and although not crushing a very high average per ton still they have a wide reef, which renders it unnecessary to do any dead work in taking out the stone, so that they are fairly valuable properties, and will, no doubt, improve at a depth. I also had a look at the “Ironclad” and “Mark Twain” P.C., a crushing of 95 tons from the former realised 254ozs., and from the latter 174 tons turned out 324ozs., the reef averaging from 2ft. to 5ft. in thickness and going down perpendicularly, so that there is not much likelihood of the claim being worked out in a hurry. The “Croydon Queen” is also a main line of reef, some saying it is identical with the Croydon King, and if such is the case it extends for miles and must prove one of the backbones of the field, as the P.C. crushed 200 tons for 787ozs., whilst many of the numbers also have given good returns, causing the line to be blocked off for a considerable distance, on which claims sinking is vigorously proceeded with. Last, but certainly not least of the claims I visited is the “Iguana Hill,” a splendid property judging from all appearances, situate on the border of the township and just above the Company’s mill, to which the stone could be conveyed at a minimum cost by means of a tramway. There is an immense quantity of stone in sight, the shaft being down about 170 feet on the underlay with a grand reef varying from two to five feet in thickness, showing gold freely, the country being easily worked, which materially reduces the cost of raising stone and makes this particular claim, from its proximity to the mill, body of stone, and other advantages, in my opinion, one of the most valuable mining properties in the North. Appended are the returns of the crushings from various claims to the date of my visit. CROYDON GOLD RETURNS.Complete returns of the crushings from the Croydon Reefs, from the opening of the field to the end of August, 1887:— CROYDON QUARTZ-CRUSHING COMPANY’S MILL.
Average—3oz. 0dwt. 1½gr. BIBBY’S MACHINE.
Average—2oz. 2dwt. BYCE’S MACHINE.
Average—5oz. 9dwt. 3gr. SPENT’S MACHINE.
Average—1oz. 13dwt. CROYDON STONE CRUSHED AT GEORGE TOWN.
Average—17oz. 15dwt. CRUSHED AT CHARTERS TOWERS.
GRAND TOTAL.
Assayed Value per Ounce of Gold from Various Claims.
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