Fred meditated for a few minutes, lighted his pipe, and smoked on in
silence; and as there was nothing better to do. I joined him.

"We are not making a fortune here in California, and if we don't do any
thing in Australia, we shall see the country, and that will be worth
something," I said.

"Then let's go," cried Fred, refilling his pipe; and that very evening
we commenced selling our stock of superfluous articles to our numerous
neighbors, saving nothing but tent, revolvers, rifles, and a few other
articles that would stand us in need when we reached Australia.

A week from the day that we made up our mind to try what luck there was
in store for us in Australia, we were on board of a clipper ship, and
with some two dozen other steerage passengers (for Fred and myself were
determined to be economical) we were passing through the Golden Gate on
our way to a strange land, where we did not possess a friend or
acquaintance that we knew of.

"Well," said Fred, as he stood on deck at the close of the day, and saw
the mountains of California recede from view, "it's precious little fun
I've seen in that country; and if our new home is not more exciting, I
shall be like the Irishman who pined away because he couldn't get up a
fight."

"Don't give yourself any uneasiness on that score," replied the mate,
who chanced to overhear the remark. "I'll warrant that you'll see as
many musses as you'll care to mix in."