overhead and boxes and bags in
front, behind and underneath, and all swarmed about by pestilential
flies, millions of flies, sprung from nowhere to harass the thirsty,
weary travelers.

But only the agents and engineers rode in the stages; it cost too much
for the little prospectors, the "dry-washers," who carried their few
provisions and scanty outfit in packs on their backs, and tramped the
trails, stopping here and there to toss the dry soil into the air and
watch for the gold flakes to fall into the pan while the lighter earth
blew off in the wind.

In the camp were gathered a motley crew, mostly hard, reckless men, who
drank and bet their gold dust away as fast as they found it. But
everywhere they were finding gold, and all the time came new reports and
rumors of more farther on. The headquarters of Hoover's employers were
in Coolgardie when he arrived, but were soon moved on to Kalgoorlie,
following the railroad. The offices were in one of the three or four
stone, two-story buildings, which lifted themselves proudly above the
ruck of sweltering little toy-like houses of corrugated iron. Forty
thousand people were supposed to be living in this "camp" at one time,
buying water at two shillings six pence the gallon, which was
cheap--they were paying seven shillings in some other camps. At first it
was all brought by rail from the coastal plains four hundred miles away,
but when the mines began to get down they struck water at a few hundred
feet. But it was salt, and expensive condensing plants had to be set up,
which kept the price still high. Coolgardie once boasted of having the
"biggest condensing plant in the world," with rows on rows of enormous
cylindrical corrugated iron tanks lying on their sides, over acres of
ground, with all the pumps and boilers and steam pipes to keep these
tanks supplied. Water was cheap there, only twelve or fifteen shillings
the hundred gallons.

But out in the prospects and on the trails there was no such aqueous
luxury. There was no water for washing and little to drink. And that
little was mostly drunk as a terrible black tea, like lye, heated and
re-heated, with now a little more water added, now another handful of
leaves. I have a well-vouched-for story of an Australian girl who went
into this gold-paradise with her husband who was manager, at a large
salary, of one of the first mines. She used to take a cupful of water
and carefully wash the baby and afterward the little gi