As I had made up my mind to give the diggings a trial I had all my traps packed ready for departure, and was dreaming over the subject, when about midnight the captain came to my cabin and informed me that one of the water police wished to see me. I started up and saw one of the officers of the water police, who asked me if I was prepared, at a moment's notice, to go as a surgeon on board a steamboat that was almost ready to proceed to sea in quest of a number of people supposed to be shipwrecked on King's Island. “To be sure I am,” I replied, and at once unpacked my box, and filled my pockets with a little of this and a little of that, pills, plasters, &c. Then with a “God bless you, wife,” down the ship’s side, and off we went. Captain C——— and Captain J——— had given the officers orders to find a surgeon. The health officer had given the names of all the new arrivals and new chums, and I was one of them. “Money was no object,” said the officer. All the better, thought I, for it was to me; and after a long pull and a strong pull we were close by the boat. Someone said, “Oh, we’ve got a doctor, he’s close at hand.” However, thought I, first come first served. I was first on board, introduced by the officer to Captain C———, who turned coolly on his heel and said, “Oh, captain, I have got one already.” I then returned to the Garland.
After our kind captain had got a few hands we left in the ship’s boats, and got sately to Brighton, landed our cargo and crew on the beach there, made the best of our boxes, and went to Melbourne to purchase sundry articles for domestic use, and to provide for my departure to the diggings. We purchased a camp oven, a tea-kettle, and sundry pots and pans; but how to get them home was the question. “Why, carry them, to be sure,” everything answered; for the mode and manner of all was “I care for nobody, no, not I, since nobody cares for me.” So one took a pot, another a pan, and I took the kettle. We purchased a tent, 8 x 10, for nearly as many pounds. This was put on a pole and shouldered by two men, and off we started, Brightonwards. The tent-bearers failed by the way, left it at a house, and returned next day with more strength. On the arrival of the tent it was pitched on the green (now one of the streets of Brighton), to see how it would look, and it did look funny. However, it was to be my future house, and not to be laughed at. I afterwards saw it properly packed; then we got our swags fastened, and, after many a hearty kiss and blessing, left one fine morning to seek our fortunes.
Any notice of the early days of Victoria would be manifestly incomplete were an account of “Rag Fair” omitted. The following is from “Westgarth’s Victoria:”—
“The great influx of people attracted from Europe by the gold discovery set in about September 1852. The accommodation of Melbourne was now tried to its utmost extent; every house was
