doubt, "rush" is the proper word to apply to the old stampedes to
colonial goldfields. But in New Zealand, at any rate, the physical
methods of progression thither were laborious in the extreme. The
would-be miner tramped slowly and painfully along, carrying as much in
the way of provisions and tools as his back would bear. Lucky was the
man who had a horse to ride, or the rudest cart to drive in. When, as
time went on, gold was found high up the streams amongst the ice-cold
rivers and bleak tussock-covered mountains of the interior, the
hardships endured by the gold-seekers were often very great. The
country was treeless and wind-swept. Sheep roamed over the tussocks,
but of other provisions there were none. Hungry diggers were thankful
to pay half a crown for enough flour to fill a tin pannikin. L120 a
ton was charged for carting goods from Dunedin. Not only did fuel
fetch siege prices, but five pounds would be paid for an old gin-case,
for the boards of a dray, or any few pieces of wood out of which a
miner's "cradle" could be patched up. The miners did not exactly make
light of these obstacles, for, of the thousands who poured into the
province after the first discoveries, large numbers fled from the
snow and starvation of the winters, when the swollen rivers rose, and
covered up the rich drift on the beaches under their banks. But enough
remained to carry on the work of prospecting, and the finds were rich
enough to lure new-comers. In the year 1863 the export of gold from
Otago rose to more than two millions sterling. Extraordinary patches
were found in the sands and drift of the mountain torrents. It is
recorded of one party that, when crossing a river, their dog was swept
away by the current on to a small rocky point. A digger went to rescue
it, and never was humanity more promptly rewarded, for from the
sands by the rock he unearthed more than L1,000 worth of gold before
nightfall. Some of the more fortunate prospectors had their footsteps
dogged by watchful bands bent on sharing their good luck. One of them,
however, named Fox, managed to elude this espionage for some time, and
it was the Government geologist--now Sir James Hector--who, while on a
scientific journey, discovered him and some forty companions quietly
working in a lonely valley.

The goldfields of Otago had scarcely reached the zenith of their
prosperity before equally rich finds were reported from the west coast
of the Canterbury province. From