conversation, especially amongst the older diggers, who love to tell one
in detail how many ounces they got in one place and how many in another,
until one feels that surely they must be either millionaires or liars.
New rushes, and supposed new rushes, were eagerly discussed; men were
often passing and repassing our rock, looking for somebody who was
"on gold"--for the majority of prospectors seldom push out for themselves,
but prefer following up some man or party supposed to have "struck it
rich."

The rumours of a new find so long bandied about at length came true.
Billy Frost had found a thousand! two thousand!! three thousand
ounces!!!--who knew or cared?--on the margin of a large salt lake some
ninety miles north of Coolgardie. Frost has since told me that about
twelve ounces of gold was all he found, And, after all, there is not much
difference between twelve and three thousand--that is on a mining field.
Before long the solitude of our camp was disturbed by the constant passing
of travellers to and from this newly discovered "Ninety Mile"--so named
from its distance from Coolgardie.

As a fact, this mining camp (now known as the town of Goongarr) is only
sixty odd miles from the capital, measured by survey, but in early days,
distances were reckoned by rate of travel, and roads and tracks twisted
and turned in a most distressing manner, sometimes deviating for water,
but more often because the first maker of the track had been riding along
carelessly, every now and then turning sharp back to his proper course.
Subsequent horse or camel men, having only a vague knowledge of the
direction of their destination, would be bound to follow the first tracks;
after these would come light buggies, spring-carts, drays, and heavy
waggons, until finally a deeply rutted and well-worn serpentine road
through the forest or scrub was formed, to be straightened in course of