‘He’s no true digger who’ll stand out when the time comes, Ryan.’

‘Thrue fer you, man.  Och! it’s a lovely land fer a gravyince, an’ I’ll niver lave it.’  He looked Jim up and down again.  ‘It’s put th’ good heart in you, Done.’  Jim nodded smilingly.  ‘D’ye be hearin’ iv th’ little lady from off the ship?’ continued Phil, as if following a natural sequence.

‘Yes,’ answered Jim, his cheeks warming a little.  ’She is with Mrs. Macdougal at Boobyalla, just beyond Jim Crow, and is well and cheerful.’

‘Good agin!’ Ryan sighed heavily as he resumed his swag.  ‘It’s th’ on’y thing I’m lamentin’ here, th’ mighty scarcity iv fine wimmin,’ he said.

‘They’ll be bringing them out by the ship-load presently, old man.’

‘Th’ sooner th’ quicker.  Manewhoile I haven’t seen th’ taste iv one fer sivin munts.  So long to you!  We’ll be meetin’ on the new rush?’

‘Yes.  So long and good luck!’

Phil hastened on to overtake his mates, and Jim, looking after him, wondered that he had ever been anything but good friends with this man, whose lovable, ugly face radiated geniality as a diamond reflects light.

Simpson’s Ranges at first sight was a repetition of the other fields Jim had seen.  The scene was one of intense excitement.  No experience prepared the ordinary miner to take the possibilities of a new field in a philosophical spirit.  The impetuosity, the bustling hurry, and the clamour that had so impressed him at Forest Creek were repeated here.  Everywhere over a space of some fifty acres tents were being unfurled and carts and waggons unloaded in the midst of chaotic disorder.  The feverish eagerness of new arrivals to peg out their claims on a rich lead accounted for much of the tumult.  Those already in possession of golden holes were working like fiends to exhaust their present claims, and secure others before the land was pegged out all along the lead and the whizzing of windlasses and the monotonous cries of the workers added the usual character to the prevailing clamour.

Storekeepers who had dumped their stocks down in the open air were desperately busy, serving profane customers, or running up hasty structures over their goods.  Newcomers were pouring in like visitors to a fair, shouting as they came, and of all the people Jim could see, Mike Burton and the Peetrees alone were prepared to take things calmly.  For his own part, he had again proof of his susceptibility to the humours of the crowd; the excitement of the scene communicated itself to him; he wanted to add to the noise and the movement without acknowledging any sensible reason for doing so.

‘Me an’ Mike ‘ll get up the lead an’ spike a claim while you boys rig the tent,’ said Josh.

The mates had brought one tent to serve them, pending the arrival of their other belongings.  It had been resolved that the five men should work on shares during their stay at Simpson’s Ranges, and Mike and Peetree senior secured the land to which the party was entitled under its licenses.