I Had Walked With My Brother And A Friend To St. Peter's Church; But We Were A Few Minutes Behind Time, And Therefore Could Find No Unoccupied Seat.

Thus disappointed, we strolled over Princes Bridge on to the other side of the Yarra. Between the bridge and the beach, on the south side of the river, is a little city of tents, called Little Adelaide.

They were inhabited by a number of families, that the rumour of the Victoria gold-mines had induced to leave South Australia, and whose finances were unequal to the high prices in Melbourne.

Government levies a tax of five shillings a week on each tent, built upon land as wild and barren as the bleakest common in England. We did not wander this morning towards Little Adelaide; but followed the Yarra in its winding course inland, in the direction of the Botanical Gardens.

Upon a gentle rise beside the river, not far enough away from Melbourne to be inconvenient, but yet sufficiently removed from its mud and noise, were pitched two tents, evidently new, with crimson paint still gay upon the round nobs of the centre posts, and looking altogether more in trim for a gala day in Merry England than a trip to the diggings. The sun was high above our heads, and the day intensely hot; so much so, that I could not resist the temptation of tapping at the canvas door to ask for a draught of water. A gentleman obeyed the summons, and on learning the occasion of this unceremonious visit, politely accommodated me with a camp-stool and some delicious fresh milk - in Melbourne almost a luxury. Whilst I was imbibing this with no little relish, my friends were entering into conversation with our new acquaintance. The tents belonged to a party just arrived by the steamer from England, with everything complete for the diggings, to which they meant to proceed in another week, and where I had the pleasure of meeting them again, though under different and very peculiar circumstances. The tent which I had invaded was inhabited by two, the elder of whom, a powerfully-built man of thirty, formed a strong contrast to his companion, a delicate-looking youth, whose apparent age could not have exceeded sixteen years.

After a short rest, we returned to Melbourne, well pleased with our little adventure.

The next day was hardly long enough for our numerous preparations, and it was late before we retired to rest. Six was the hour appointed for the next morning's breakfast. Excited with anticipating the adventures to commence on the morrow, no wonder that my dreams should all be GOLDEN ones.

Chapter IV.

CAMPING UP - MELBOURNE TO THE BLACK FOREST

The anxiously-expected morning at length commenced, and a dismal-looking morning it was - hazy and damp, with a small drizzling rain, which, from the gloomy aspect above, seemed likely to last. It was not, however, sufficient to damp our spirits, and the appointed hour found us all assembled to attack the last meal that we anticipated to make for some time to come beneath the shelter of a ceiling. At eight o'clock our united party was to start from the "Duke of York" hotel, and as that hour drew nigh, the unmistakeable signs of "something up," attracted a few idlers to witness our departure. In truth, we were a goodly party, and created no little sensation among the loungers - but I must regularly introduce our troop to my readers.

First then, I must mention two large drays, each drawn by a pair of stout horses - one the property of two Germans, who were bound for Forest Creek, the other belonged to ourselves and shipmates. There were three pack-horses - one (laden with a speculation in bran) belonged to a queer-looking sailor, who went by the name of Joe, the other two were under the care of a man named Gregory, who was going to rejoin his mates at Eagle Hawk Gully. As his destination was the farthest, and he was well acquainted with the roads, he ought to have been elected leader, but from some mis-management that dignity was conferred upon a stout old gentleman, who had taken a pleasure-trip to Mount Alexander, the previous summer.

Starting is almost always a tedious affair, nor was this particular case an exception. First one had forgotten something - another broke a strap, and a new one had to be procured - then the dray was not properly packed, and must be righted - some one else wanted an extra "nobbler" - then a fresh, and still a fresh delay, so that although eight was the appointed hour, it was noon ere we bade farewell to mine host of the "Duke of York."

At length the word of command was spoken. Foremost came the gallant captain (as we had dubbed him), and with him two ship doctors, in partnership together, who carried the signs of their profession along with them in the shape of a most surgeon-like mahogany box. Then came the two Germans, complacently smoking their meerschaums, and attending to their dray and horses, which latter, unlike their masters, were of a very restless turn of mind. After these came a party of six, among whom was Gregory and two lively Frenchmen, who kept up an incessant chattering. Joe walked by himself, leading his pack-horse, then came our four shipmates, two by two, and last, our own particular five.

Most carried on their backs their individual property - blankets, provisions for the road, &c., rolled in a skin, and fastened over the shoulders by leathern straps. This bundle goes by the name of "swag," and is the digger's usual accompaniment - it being too great a luxury to place upon a dray or pack-horse anything not absolutely necessary. This will be easily understood when it is known that carriers, during the winter, obtained 120 pounds and sometimes 150 pounds a ton for conveying goods to Bendigo (about one hundred miles from Melbourne). Nor was the sum exorbitant, as besides the chance of a few weeks' stick in the mud, they run great risk of injuring their horses or bullocks; many a valuable beast has been obliged to be shot where it stood, it being found impossible to extricate it from the mud and swamp. At the time we started, the sum generally demanded was about 70 pounds per ton.

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