Gira And Yodda

Goldfieles

Early Discoveries in North-east Papua

By D. H. Osborne

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storekeepers, signified their intention of moving over there with any intending miners, but they stated that, although they would load their native carriers to capacity with stores, they would not carry swags, tools or equipment for anyone.

The stores, on reaching the new field, would be strictly rationed. Everyone would receive a fair share, but no favours would be shown to anyone.

The storekeepers had sent out their letters by runner on December 17, and by nightfall on the same day about 60 men—l among them—had arrived with their gear, and were camping in the palm-thatched shelters (known as “dead houses”), provided at the stores. Each store had a liquor licence and the “dead houses” were for the drunks.

By dawn on the 18th, all hands were about, their swags (of at least 50 lb. apiece) on their backs, and ready for the road.

The first day’s stage took us over the divide between Linden’s Creek and into Clunas Creek. No one knew the track, and we took all the wrong turnings, travelling twice as far as necessary, and we arrived late at the camp site in the usual afternoon deluge of rain.

In that district rain almost invariably falls between the hours of 2 p.m. and 8 p.m.—rain so heavy that in a few minutes every creek and gully is flooded. The rain—and the flood —usually lasts about an hour and then clears away as sud denly as it commenced. A wet morning is rare, and day breaks bright and cloud less; mountain tops are clear, but over the low country below one can trace each water-course by white strips of mist. As the sun rises these mists gather into large banks and, gradually rising, by 11 a.m. cover the tops of the mountains in a blanket of cloud that lasts for the re mainder of the day.

At our first camping ground we found several good huts—erected previously by other miners—and we were able to have a dry camp (that is, “dry” in the literal sense) without the necessity of erecting tent-flies. In spite of having to pack their own belongings, most of the men had managed to find room for a bottle of rum or whisky and, with the aid of it, all hands were soon merry and the hard ships of the day were forgotten. Bob Walker insisted on singing his Scotch

songs, and Jack Horan challenged all and sundry to fight—challenges which were ignored.

All were buoyed up with the miner’s perennial belief: that the creeks just ahead were paved with gold, that wealth was there for their taking. All doubts, past disappointments and heart-breaking labour were forgotten in the upwards rush of hope that once more had them in its grip. Only those who have ex perienced the thrill of the first sight of payable gold in the prospecting dish can understand why men will face such hard ships, or after disappointments numerous enough to disillusion more ordinary men, strive yet once again to find the yellow metal. All men—yellow, white or brown —all have the same love for it.

On Tuesday, the 19th, we moved on again, following the course of Clunas Creek for some distance, and then cross ing the Gira at the top of some rapids.

All crossed safely on this occasion, although some months later another miner was swept over and washed up un conscious on the beach below. Then for five days we struggled on, camping each night under our calico tent-flies and rising before day-break to light fires to dry out a little of the moisture from them, so that they might be lighter to carry.

The road took us over two mountain peaks which one of our party christened the Two Sisters, and each day as the track got steeper and the creeks rougher, so did our hopes drop and the fine optimism that we had experienced on our first night out evarporate. Rum and whisky had petered out on the second day—and we had not even that artificial aid to our hopes.

But on the Saturday after we had left the stores on the Gira, we made our ob jective, and in due course found that, although the creeks and beaches were rough, and food hard to procure, gold was there in payable quantities.

But this was worked for only a few weeks: because, at the end of January, 1900. Mat Crowe, McLelland and Archie Walker arrived, on their way to Tamata, with their news that gold existed on the much-easier-worked Yodda Valley, and all hands packed up and moved on there.

It was not until two years had passed, and the richness of the Yodda was on the wane, that miners began to return to Elliot’s. By this time the men had learned to utilise natives for mining work —especially those from the D’Entre castreau group. Several native villages up in the mountains had been induced to bring in sweet potatoes, which they traded away for knives and tomahawks, and so alleviated the food problem to some extent —and under these improved conditions rich terraces and beaches on Elliot’s Creek were successfully worked.

It was here on the headwaters of the Gira that Anton Ringel, who was just recently evacuated from Papua, spent almost a lifetime.