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Chapter XVII.

When all the bother was over, I started again in the butchering business, and put up a good slaughter-yard at a place called Smythe's Creek, and did a very good business. The "anti-lease" arrangement had given me considerable celebrity, which I was not slow in turning to account.

I have said nothing about the Californian Indian lad. At this time he was in the service of a friend of mine, in the hay and corn trade, in Ballarat. One day when I was there the poor boy came to me, complaining of pains in his head. I took him to a doctor, who said he had a severe attack of fever. On learning this, I drove him home with me to get proper nursing, but it was of no avail, he gradually grew worse, and in a few weeks breathed his last. Mrs. Barry and myself grieved greatly at the poor fellow's death—he had been so uniformly grateful and affectionate to us. We buried him far away from the hunting-grounds of his forefathers, and he was probably the only specimen of the American Indian ever laid in Australian soil.

A good many rival butchers now started in business on Brown's, and the oppositon became very warm. Having a good sum in ready cash, I was enabled to buy cheap, and I commenced what is page 145known as a "cutting trade," that is, selling at cost price, or even below it, and at last my rivals, tired of this unprofitable game; they clubbed their resources together, and bought me out of the field.

Being once more adrift from business, and seeing nothing in the locality suitable to make a fresh start in, I decided, as my health was not particularly good, to go down to Melbourne and have a spell, of which I stood much in need. The life of excitement I had been leading for many months began to tell. I had now three of a family, and the wife and youngsters and I shifted our quarters to Melbourne. I took a ready-furnished house in Collingwood, where we lived for twelve months, and enjoyed fully all the pleasures that Melbourne then afforded.

I one day fell in with a man named James Cotton, a horse-breaker and dealer in a large way of business. I went into business with him, followed the markets, bought up raw colts, broke them in and sold them.

I found this a profitable business, and in a few months cleared a good round sum of money by it. In the horse-market one day, when I was engaged disposing of some colts, I received a blow on the hat, and on turning round found myself face to face with my old chum, Tom Jones, the cattle-dealer. We retired to a convenient pub. for a chat. Tom was very sorry to learn of the Indian's death, and said the life he led with him, principally in the open air, suited him best, and I should have left the boy with him. However, it was too late now for regret.

At this time—early in 1861—news arrived of the gold discoveries in Otago, New Zealand, and I endeavoured to persuade Jones to join me in the speculation of taking down a cargo of horses to the new Eldorado. I knew from former experience that it was certain to pay well. Jones declined, but offered to let me have a mob cheap, which he had running on a station 81 miles up-country. They were light-draught animals, and from their description I knew they would suit; so the next day I left with him to see them. I found them to be the right article, and I [unclear: a] once made a deal. I bought 40 head, hired a couple of stock-riders, and drove them down to Melbourne. I tried them in the sale-yards, and such good prices were offered that I parted with 20 of them. The rest I despatched to a paddock to be branded with my own brand.

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I attended the markets regularly, and at last got together 70 head of good upstanding animals, such as I concluded would suit the New Zealand taste, and then looked round for a vessel to charter for their conveyance to Otago. I succeeded in chartering two vessels, the "Mary" brig and the "Eliza Goddard." I purchased a lot of spring carts and sets of harness, and other things, shipped them with the horses, took my wife and family, and set sail for Dunedin, Otago, in the "Eliza Goddard," the brig "Mary" having sailed the day before.

This was in the year 1862, in the month of February. We had a pleasant passage, and arrived at Port Chalmers in eight days with our freight all safe. The Otago goldfields were in their prime at the time I landed, and their attractions proved too much for the crew of our vessel, who deserted to a man and went up-country to the diggings.

I took my family to Galbraith's Hotel, in Port Chalmers, where we remained for a few days until I got my horses, etc., to Dunedin, where I found an excellent market. Cattle of the description I had imported were then bringing good prices, and I realised well by the speculation.

Accommodation in Dunedin in those days was very scarce. I had to pay £4 per week rent for a small room, but at last succeeded in hiring a house in the North-East Valley, to which I took my family. I retained two of my best horses and one spring cart, and looked round for something to begin at. I was in a new country, and I was determined not to be particular what line I started in, provided it was likely to pay. One day I was on the wharf when two whaleboats arrived loaded with fish. I purchased the fish, put them into my cart, drove around the town, and retailed the lot. At night, on counting up, I found I had made a very good day's work indeed. "There's corn in Egypt yet," I thought, "I will follow up the trade." I made inquiries, and from advice given I purchased two vans and hired four men. Two of them were fishermen, and had seine-nets and all the necessary gear for making a good haul. I was informed by the same friend that the Waihola Lake, 23 miles from town, abounded in mullet, and all I had to do was to go there, fish, load my vans, drive on to the diggings, and make a rapid fortune.

I purchased a boat for running out our nets, and left on the expedition, probably the most foolish one I ever set out upon. One might have thought my verdancy would by this time have page 147been entirely rubbed off, but it seemed I was as "green" as ever, and was completely sold by my waggish adviser. We arrived at the romantic Waihola Lake, camped, and hobbled, and turned out the horses, having no feed with us for their use. All the space would be required, we thought, for our mullet. However, the [unclear: grass] was magnificent, and the animals fared well; so we made our preparations and set to work. We fished diligently all the long night, and were rewarded by the capture of one unwary eel In the morning, as we were overhauling our gear, an "old identity"—that is, an old Scotch settler—came riding by, and asked us, "What in the name o' heevin we were deein there." I replied, "Fishing for mullet." At which he burst out laughing, and said, "Ye'll hea tae fush a d——d long time ere ye cotch ony mullet here; deil a mullet's in till't," and rode off,

Then, for the first time, it dawned upon me that I had been sold. However, I gave the lake another night's trial, and in the morning added three more eels to our stock, and tore our nets all to pieces, so I concluded Sawney was right—"Deil a mullet "was" in till't," and packed up and turned back homewards. We got as far as Dwyer's Perry, on the Taieri River, and camped. I then fell in with some boatmen who came up from the Taieri Heads, who, upon hearing of the failure of my fishing excursion, said they could get boatloads of the finny tribe in no time at the Heads if I would pay them a price for them. I concluded all was not yet lost, and arranged to prosecute the fish trade a little further. I paid off the men I had with me, and then returned to town.

Six boats left for the promised fish, and I remained with my horses and vans and amused myself duck-shooting on the lake, which at this time was crowded with waterfowl. After eight days waiting, I began to feel as if another "fish sell" was intended, but Dwyer at the hotel assured me that the men would keep their promise. There had been a heavy gale of wind meantime, which probably detained them. The day after, I was delighted to see four boats arrive, loaded to the gunwales with fish, some of them weighing 401bs. each. They were principally of the species called "hapuka," a very coarse specimen, but excellent where quantity was considered before quality. I loaded up my vans and hired a man to assist me in driving, and just then an old Ballarat acquaintance came along tramping to the page 148diggings. His name was George Harrison, and he was a butcher by trade. I let him into the speculation, and off we went. The roads were lined with men travelling to the diggings. On the first day at Tokomairiro we sold out one van load, principally to the diggers camped there en route to the Woolshed Diggings. We then pushed on to the Woolshed, six miles further, and camped. Next day we started for Waitahuna, and some of the corpulent "hapuka" began to smell rather high. We were compelled to halt at a creek and relieve them of their intestines, and on we went again. The fish trade evidently required to be done in a hurry. We got to Waitahuna, where there were about 800 miners, who wanted a change of food, and I retailed the remainder of the fish at the modest price, looking at their condition, of three shillings per pound, and was truly glad when the last hapuka disappeared.

I had had enough of the fish trade for some time, and drove on to Gabriel's Gully. These diggings were in their prime at this time; everyone appeared to be doing well, as also at the neighbouring gully, known as Wetherstone's. Harrison wanted me either to start in the old business or go gold digging, but I wanted to have a look round awhile, and, after settling up with him, we parted. I got an idea that money might be made readily on the diggings here at fellmongering: the butchers and others killing cattle and sheep were throwing aside their hides and skins for want of a market.

I sold one of my vans, and putting the two horses into the other, went straight back to Dunedin, where I saw plenty of chances to commence business. I had a good look round Dunedin, and I started buying hides and sheepskins, and made money, but not very fast, and I soon grew tired of the business, and one morning I said to my wife, "This work won't do, I shall go and see the new rush." I got in two horses, packed one with blankets, &c., and riding the other, I bade good-bye to my wife and family, whom I left comfortably situated, and started in search of the Dunstan rush.

I had little difficulty in steering my course to the new rush. The whole country was alive with people journeying thither-wards, and in two days I arrived on Dunstan Flat, where now stand the incorporated towns of Clyde and Alexandra.

The flat and all along the banks of the Clutha River were covered with canvas tents, and every one appeared to be getting page 149gold easily. I journeyed up the river a couple of miles, and then returned. I found everything in the shape of food at extraordinary prices, except mutton, which was reasonable enough at 1s 6d per pound. The 41b loaf was 7s 6d, and flour was £21 per 2001b bag. Recollecting that the flour was only £3 per bag at Gabriel's Gully, I saw a good speculation in that line, and I immediately sold one of my horses with a pack saddle, and hastened to Gabriel's.

When I arrived I found someone had forestalled me, and that all the flour was bought up. I happened to learn, that a bullock team was close at hand with a load of flour, and at once rode out and met it, and purchased the lot at £3 per bag, and going four miles farther I met the other team, and purchased its load also, and despatched them both on to the Dunstan.

There were five tons of flour in the two loads, and I contracted to pay £60 per ton for carriage. I left Gabriel's again two days after the drays, and went back to the rush. I found matters still very brisk, and that bread had risen to 8s for a small loaf. When my flour arrived, a fortnight afterwards, the drays were "rushed," and I could have sold at almost any price, but I had already disposed of it to one man for £21 10s per bag, and felt well satisfied.

Four days after, ten drays arrived with flour and other goods, and the prices fell at once. The Bank of New South Wales started an agency at this time, and I deposited my cash there for safe keeping. The Dunstan now began to assume the appearance of a town. Hotels and stores went up in two long lines on either side of the street, and business made rapid strides.

There was a baker's shop next to the Bank, which I saw would make an excellent stand for a butcher's shop, and I made up my mind to have it. I had considerable difficulty with the occupier, but at last succeeded in buying him out. I at once fitted the place up for business. There were, at this time, only two other butchers who were supplied by two neighbouring squatters, Messrs: Low and Shuman.

When ready to commence, I went to these gentlemen for stock, but they refused to supply me, even for cash. They had arranged to supply the two places only, and they would not even permit cattle or sheep to be driven or killed on their run, and as most of the new goldfields were on their station, this was a poser. I had gone to very considerable expense for nothing, for a page 150butcher's shop without meat was not calculated to be a paying concern. I hardly knew what to be at, and finding two men I knew going up the river to have a look round, I accompanied them. When at Hatley's Beach, a place where an immense lot of gold was obtained, we met some men going down for provisions, who told us that on the opposite side of the river, at the junction of the Kawrau and Clutha, there were five men who were getting gold by the pound weight; but there was no boat, and the river was, and probably is now, one of the most dangerous streams in the world to swim in.

I fancied I could swim a little, and one of the men with me, Bill Kelly by name, a Sydney native, could swim like a fish, so I thought it would go hard, but we would join this party who were getting gold by the pound weight. When we arrived at the spot opposite to the rich ground, we saw about fifty men sitting on the bank, looking at the lucky fellows on the other side, and wondering how they got there, and how they were to participate in their luck.

I at once went down to the river's edge, and began stripping. The crowd looking on in amazement, and predicting a speedy death. I paid no attention to their remarks, and tying my clothes in a bundle on my head, I called to Kelly to come on. He said if I arrived safely on the other side he would follow. I took the stream higher up than where I expected to land on the other shore, and plunged in, and reached terra firma almost at once. The current was running about ten miles an hour, and sheared me over at a tremendous rate. The stream here was 150 yards wide, and a fearful depth. It is possible I had the honour of being the first man who ever swam the Clutha, at "that date.

Kelly, on seeing me safely landed, at once attempted the passage, following my track, and was nearly across when he got into a whirl or eddy, and came near drowning. On seeing him struggling I ran up and plunged in and took hold of him, and one of the men who were working there reached out a long-handled shovel, which I grasped, and we were both pulled ashore. A few minutes more and one or both must have been drowned. As it was, Kelly lost all his clothes, and thirteen ounces of gold which were in his pocket. He solemnly vowed he would never again attempt to swim a New Zealand river, and I think he kept his oath.

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I divided my wearing apparel with him to cover his nakedness, and we fraternised with the diggers, who were astonished at our foolhardiness. They had been on this beach a fortnight, and had obtained 181b. weight of gold, so they told us. There we were in the midst of treasure, but had no means of obtaining it, Kelly having lost our tin dish along with his clothes. However, one of our new acquaintances lent us a washing-dish, and we prospected round all day end got about an ounce of gold. During the night the river rose, which it does frequently and very rapidly, and overflowed the golden beaches, preventing us from obtaining any more gold for a time.

At this time men found, their way up the river on our side, and brought the news of an extensive rush up country, called Fox's, on the Arrow River, a tributary of the Kaurau. I decided to go back to the Dunstan, and my mate Kelly joined the five men working the river banks. Not knowing the road back on the west side of the river, and the newcomers telling me that it was very rough travelling, I thought it advisable to return by the same route I had come, so, bidding my comrades good-bye, I stripped, and, once more taking to my paddles, I re-crossed the river safely, and travelled down to the Dunstan.

I found the place very busy, hundreds of men passing through daily for the new rush. Although gold was being obtained then, and for a long time afterwards, on the river banks, new arrivals never thought of stopping, but pushed on for the new Eldorado. It is singular, but true, no matter how well a community of gold-diggers may be doing, the report of a new discovery immediately unsettles them, and down come the tents, and off they go. It was always so in my time, and, doubtless, if such a thing as a new rush were to occur to-morrow a general stampede would be the result, although I am sorry to see that generally the real old-fashioned, genial gold prospector and digger, like many other institutions, is gradually passing away, consequent, I suppose, on the want of excitement, no bona fide gold discoveries having been made of late years.

This new rush at Fox's was caused by the discovery of gold by two shepherds in the employ of a Mr. Reece, manager of a sheep-run in the Lake district, and was named after an old Californian acquaintance of mine, William Fox, who was prospecting in the neighbourhood, and came across the shepherds. He was a genuine prospector, and was very successful, I be-page 152lieve. At the first of the new rush, gold was easily [unclear: obtained], and the goldfields enlarged in extent daily by discoveries.

Of course, I could not stay behind the crowd, and joined a Mr. Grindley in the stock trade, and we started with a mob of sheep for Fox's. We had to go up the Clutha River about eighteen miles before we could cross; we got over safely and proceeded, arriving at our destination after considerable difficulty, and found we were forestalled—Mr. Reece had stocked the market with cattle and sheep. We set to work and fixed up a yard with scrub, and sold a few of our sheep to the diggers, alive, but trade was slack, and Grindley decided to travel further on to Skipper's Creek, on the Shotover River, where a rush had set in, and a good many diggers had located themselves. We got there all right, and Grindley immediately commenced killing, and retailed his mutton at 1s. 9d. per 1b.

Shortly afterwards a misunderstanding arose between us, and I left him, to strike out a new line for myself. I bought an old white horse from one of the diggers, and one morning started down the Shotover, which runs through a terribly rough country. At one place I attempted to swim the horse over the river, and nearly came to grief. The current was too much for my poor old Rosinante, and down stream we went; he rolled over several times, and I grasped his tail in desperation. We came at last into a gorge, with smooth perpendicular rocks on either side. The poor old grey managed to gain a sort of temporary footing on a foam-lashed rock, where he was buffeted all to pieces, and, indeed, I was little better off, and began to think it was time "to send in my checks." However, I managed to keep in mid-stream, and at last cleared the awful gorge, and crawled ashore on a beach, where eight kindly Welshmen were working. I related my misadventures, and they supplied me with dry clothing and a night's lodging, of which good Samaritan-like help I stood in great need, being nearly exhausted. Next day one of the party was going into Fox's township and gave me a ride on his pack-horse. I could not have walked it, for I was bruised from head to foot and my body generally was of a black-and-blue tint. I was very ill for a fortnight afterwards, during which time I stopped at Fox's house. He had started a store and shanty—a sort of hybrid public-house, common enough in those days, although unlicensed and unlawful—where he appeared to be making money page 153fast, and here I thank him for his kindness to me during the time I was suffering from the buffeting with the current of the Shotover.

I left for the Dunstan and arrived the same evening, and found that during my five months' absence the town had enlarged very considerably, and frontages on the main street had increased in value. Accordingly I determined to make another effort. This was in 1863.

I rode up to Mr. Robert Wilkins' station on the Wanaka Lake to see if I could purchase the goodwill of a butchering business he owned at the Kawarau Junction. He was away from home, in the neighbouring Province of Canterbury, but I succeeded in dealing with his overseer, Mr. Garter, and purchased the business. The Government had proclaimed the place a township, and gave it the name of Cromwell. It was rapidly going ahead, and things generally looking bright. I sold my property at the Dunstan, and removed my wife and family to Cromwell. I took up a good frontage under the goldfields' rules, put up a good shop, and the business was handed over by Mr. Carter, with whom I entered into an agreement that if any opposition was started he would reduce the prices to me, so that I would be enabled to undersell any and every competitor.

Having made a very fair start, matters went well with me. I made money very fast for twelve months, and fitted up a comfortable home for my family, and fancied that at last I was settled, but my dreams of quietness and comfort were soon disturbed. "Mine ancient enemy," George Harrison, and another man, arrived upon the scene with a large mob of cattle. Harrison had somehow made a lot of money, and thought he would have no difficulty in again supplanting me in the trade. He and his mate put up a shop, and commenced what is known as "cutting," that is, selling for a lower price than his neighbour. I thought that two could play at that game, and lowered my prices so that it would be impossible for them to live at the business. I have since found that this is but a foolish sort of business, and only created fun for the public, who reap all the benefit.

There were about 5000 diggers and others working in and around Cromwell at this time, and to the many stores in the outlying gullies in the diggings I despatched pack-horse loads of meat daily, besides keeping the carts constantly carrying the page 154meat far and near, without a shade of profit. This battle lasted for several months, and Harrison had cleared off all his cattle. Hearing that he had purchased another large mob, I thought I had better go and see Mr. Carter upon the matter. I rode up to the Wanaka station, but he was away from home, so I returned and shut up my shop, heartily sick of losing money.

Just at this time, as if to make amends, fickle fortune sent me news of some property which had fallen to me. It had been purchased in my name, for my future benefit, when I was almost a boy in the colonies. What appeared to be Crown-land grants in my favour had been found among the documents of a person named Frost, who had died suddenly at Adelaide, South Australia. Three gentlemen who were formerly acquainted with me had seen these papers, and wrote to me, asking me to send a power-of-attorney for them to act on my behalf. On receipt of this they would forward me a draft for £1000, and when they had established my title to the property, they would retain all the revenue which had accrued from it from the date of the grant in my favour until that time.

I thought the proposition rather a peculiar one at the time, but I was very ignorant as to the conduct of such matters; and as the prolonged opposition in trade had made heavy inroads in my cash balance, I determined to accept the £1000, and the terms offered. I sent the power-of-attorney as requested, and shortly after received the promised remittance of the £1000. In a future chapter I will give the sequel to this stroke of luck.

When I shut up my shop as already stated, my opponents concluded, I suppose, that they had put the finishing stroke to the game, and having it all their own way, raised the price of meat to 1s. 4d. per 1b. The public could not, of course, see the force of paying the extortion, and created a tremendous fuss, and many of them came to me, wanting to know the reason why I had ceased supplying them. Several diggers, thinking that I was run aground for want of capital, kindly offered me any amount I chose to name to continue the business, and drive the rivals out of the field, saying at the same time that they would never put up with such a barefaced imposition. I declined these kind offers, having not yet got to the end of my tether, so far as capital was concerned. I bided my time, knowing that the evil would soon become intolerable to the public. I page 155intended to wait for this juncture, and then go in and give Messrs. Harrison and Co. the coup de grace in a few days. Seeing that my shop still remained shut up, they were lulled into a false security, and at the end of a fortnight I noticed one day that their two shops were crammed with excellent meat, and the weather was excessively warm. I then laid my mine. I got my men together and killed five splendid bullocks and fifty sheep, which I had brought in, and hung up around the shop after all Cromwell had retired to rest.

I also got a large sign painted with the inscription, "The Right Man in the Right Place; No Monopoly," and hung, it up in front of my premises. The good people of the town and the diggers were joyfully astonished in the morning to see me once more "standing at the receipt of custom." Immediately, I had more trade than I could well accomplish. My opponents were floored. They could not sell a pound of meat, and, as it was very hot weather, it had all to be thrown in the river. After a few days' feeble struggle against me, I being well backed by public support, they had to give in and closed their shop.

Thus broke down a monopoly which had been a source of great loss and irritation to the district. I lost a deal of money, and I am sure that Harrison must have been severely crippled. The public, while the opposition lasted, were the only gainers; and now that it was at an end, and I had fixed a fair and moderate charge for this necessary of life, they very generously came forward, to mark their appreciation of my game struggle, and presented me with a handsome gold watch and chain, with a suitable inscription.

To commemorate the occasion, a bullock was roasted whole and dispensed, along with other creature comforts, to the large crowd who had assembled, and a very jolly time was spent, to be long remembered by Cromwell and its environs.