“All ready,” we answered, bringing out our traps and lashing them on the team.

The coffee pot and skillet were not forgotten, as we calculated if we met any game they would both be of service.  A keg of water, a bottle of whiskey, a bag of ship bread, a large piece of pork, a few potatoes, coffee, a bag of flour, and a bag of sugar, were the articles needed for our long journey to the mines of Ballarat.

Smith locked the door of his hut, hung the key about his neck attached to a thick cord, and then, uncoiling his dreadful whip, he sounded the signal for an advance.

The cattle strained at their yokes, and the huge, clumsy, English-built team creaked over the road, and groaned as though offering strong remonstrance against the journey.

There were five yoke of oxen attached to the cart, and as they were in fair condition and had not been worked for a few days, they took the load along the level road at a brisk walk; and it was not until we had got beyond the city’s limits and left Melbourne in the distance, that the animals fell into their accustomed steady walk.

“I suppose that there is but little use in our carrying our rifles in our hands?” I asked of Smith, as he walked by the side of the cattle.

“I have been waiting for you to ask the question ever since we left Melbourne,” Smith replied; “I thought I wouldn’t say any thing until you got tired of carrying them.  There is but little fear of our meeting with bushrangers so near the city; and as for game, we may see some, but not within rifle range.  Put your guns in the cart, and don’t touch them until we camp to-night.”

We gladly followed his advice, for the sun had risen, and began scorching us with its rays, although, when we started, the air was quite cool, and a jacket was not uncomfortable.

“How far is Geelong from Melbourne?” I asked, after we had relieved ourselves of the rifles.

“Between fifty and sixty miles.”

“Do we pass near the town?”

“No, we branch off near Mount Macedonskirt, the range of mountains by that name, and which you can see in the distance; cross a barren tract of country, where no water but sink-holes is to be found for forty miles; strike the mines of Victoria; and then we are near the gold fields of Ballarat.”

“Where I hope we shall make a fortune and return to Melbourne in less than six months,” Fred cried.

“Amen,” ejaculated Smith; but he smiled as he thought what a slight chance there was of our prayers being answered.

We met some half a dozen teams on their way back to Melbourne from the mines, and we surveyed the drivers as we would rare animals, for they were covered with a thick coating of white dust that had filled their hair and whiskers, and looked as though a bushel of corn meal had been scattered over their heads.

Each cart contained two or more invalids, who appeared, by their dejected air, to have taken farewell of the world, and didn’t think it worth while attempting to live any longer; and when a question was asked them, it was with great reluctance that they returned an answer, and if they did speak, it was in tones so faint that with difficulty they could be understood.