deavor.

Between two and three miles from where the creek flowed into the Blyde
River lay the little township. Among the farther sinuosities of the
valley were groups of tents. With the eye of imagination we could
almost detect the nuggets gleaming at the bottom of the stream. We had
not yet learnt the gold-diggers' variant of a well-known proverb:
"Nothing is gold that glitters."

We scrambled down the steep mountain-side, between patches of forest
and over reefs of quartz. The latter had a special interest for us; we
were now in the land of gold and who could tell where the clues of
Fortune were not to be picked up? That afternoon the world was full of
glorious possibilities.

We waded across the Blyde River drift and ascended the slope towards
the town, which nestled behind a stony rise. Soon, with light hearts
and lighter pockets (mine contained but seven shillings), we trudged up
the one and only street. Here and there stood a digger, or a
storekeeper, glancing with amused contempt at the raw "new chums." I
happened to be wearing a pair of new moleskin breeches that were
several sizes too wide for me. These were the occasion of a good deal
of derisive comment. One man sang out to a friend across the street

"Say, Jim, them looks like town-made legs and country made trousers,
eh?"

Joe's limp, also, was the subject of ribaldry. On the whole we must
have been a strange looking pair. Feeling rather small under the
scrutiny (not bethinking us that within a very few months we would be
putting on similar airs of superiority towards weary tramps arriving
under like conditions) we were glad when we had passed through the
township. We strolled up the winding valley, admiring the landscape and
wondering how we were going to set about earning a living. The scenery
was enchanting, but scenery by itself is not a satisfying diet.

On our course up the creek we passed numbers of parties at work. Owing
to the rugged nature of the Pilgrim's Valley, the pathway zigzagged a
great deal. Some acquaintances of mine were said to be working among
the terraces high up far beyond the Middle Camp and their tent was my
objective. Once we heard a cheery hail from the bed of the creek, and
saw a man waving a tin pannikin at us. This meant an invitation to tea,
which we gladly accepted. The claim was worked by a couple of
Australians; they were on a fair lead, so they told us. They gave us a
supply of tobacco, and told us to call round ag