Tour of the Gold-fields 223' 



a "pocket." The cradle is set up, the water poured 

 over, and the monotony of the digger's life begins, 

 a sort of voluntary treadmill occupation, until 

 homesick and tired, even if successful, he ties up 

 his wallet which contains his wealth, secretes it 

 about his body, and tramps off. A man who is 

 usually successful, and there are not so many, may 

 have acquired five or six thousand dollars, but he 

 has usually aged ten years. 



April ^th. Leaving Hawkin's Bar for Green 

 Springs, we sauntered along the trail under the 

 beautiful post-oaks, just now in their greatest 

 beauty, with leaves half-grown and pendant cat- 

 kins. Now we shot a partridge or a hare, or 

 stopped to let "Riley," our pack mule, luxuriate in 

 some little patch of rich grass, in which he stood 

 knee deep. Overhead we saw the heavy, sweep- 

 ing motion of the vulture's wing, or watched his 

 silent circles. Around us are flowers innumer- 

 able, brilliant, soft, modest, fragrant, to suit all 

 fancies, till, having finished our eight-mile journey, 

 the sun began to cast its evening light over the 

 landscape, for we had started late. Layton had 

 rejoined me, and we set up our tent and I made 

 a sketch. 



April 6th. Four o'clock found us on our way 

 back to Hawkin's, to meet a friend of Layton's, 

 N. Howard, who was to be our companion. It 

 was cloudy but beautiful, and at Wedgewood's 



