or walls; and yet these enterprising people had wood and iron and occasionally brick carried over the deserts, and in the midst of desolation they built towns in a few months. The traveller who struggled into the interior was apt to be astonished when he first viewed these towns, and was led to meditate on the resistless energy that they symbolised. The first stage in the life of a goldfields town was canvas, the second iron and wood, the third brick. In 1895-6 the old iron, wood, and canvas shanties began to give way to more imposing structures of brick and stone. In Coolgardie, Kalgoorlie, and Cue, in particular, several handsome buildings have been erected at a great cost. Hotels and public offices have been built which would not discredit large cities in old communities. The value of property in some of the towns rose enormously. Land which lay in the midst of a hopeless wilderness in 1892 was in 1895 sold for as high as £50 per foot, and men who in 1890 invested a few hundreds in Coolgardie real estate were receiving an independent income in 1895. In July of the latter year some sixty-six feet of ground in that town were sold for £3,000—upwards of £45 per foot. In September town lots at Kalgoorlie sold at sums ranging from £530 to £390 each, and at White Feather from £159 to £110 each. The Government obtained large sums from these sales. Lots sold by the Government in Kalgoorlie in November, 1896, realised £41,235. Prices of property at Menzies and Kalgoorlie rose exceedingly high in 1896-7. Two fires at Coolgardie in 1895 and one in 1897 did considerable damage, and several large stores were gutted.
The evidences of the splendid energy of the goldfields people were not confined to the towns. Here and there, amid the endless bush, over an area of thousands of square miles, the traveller happened on innumerable mounds of earth tossed by the miners from the quartz claims. The place may seem to be connected with nowhere else. A few tracks lead from it and are soon hidden in the ugly thickets. No one but these busy people can tell where they go. In the heart of the interior deserts, perhaps scores of miles from the nearest settlement, with no pleasant landscape to behold or cool shade to rest beneath, they toil for days and weeks and months, proving and developing the quartz reefs. Expensive machinery, made in England, Europe, America, or other Australian colonies has been laboriously dragged over these depressing bush tracks and erected on the mines. There is much that is impressive and inspiring in the Western Australian goldfields.
The histories of mining camps all over the world were repeated in emotional features, but the miners of Western Australia were peaceably inclined. In the goldfields towns excitement was universal. Under the dynamic influence of gold discovery everyone came under the electric current. The climate in summer was trying, fresh water was scarce, food was not all that could be desired, and the public health was not good, but the all-pervading excitement made the experience bearable, and even enjoyable. The outside capital carried in with the fullness of the roll of the Southern Ocean made the inhabitants of the towns decidedly prosperous-looking. One and all appeared to have money to spend; banquets were an almost daily occurrence, and hotels conducted a thriving trade. Each clerk or artisan, compositor or barber's assistant, seemed to hold interests in prospecting syndicates and mining stocks, which advanced in price sometimes at the rate of one hundred per cent. per week. Each was gladsome and elated with the hope of a rapidly-accumulated fortune. Each spent readily, and gave little thought of the morrow. Men who had previously carefully guarded their expenditure, now seemed to consider that it was impossible to take a meal without champagne. Liquid refreshment of the most modest kind cost a shilling a glass. Articles of diet ranged equally high in price, but the goldfields resident believed that it was not well to be alone, and was anxious to share his good things with others. High prices were in part due to the freightage, and as much as £120 a ton was paid for the transport of goods from Southern Cross to Coolgardie. On the Murchison freightage charges were also abnormal. Occasionally supplies became scarce in different centres because of delay among the teams, and because of the rapid congregation of people after a new discovery. A rush from Coolgardie or Kalgoorlie to an outlying district benefited the storekeepers: they could sell their goods at an advanced rate. As the railways were pushed towards the goldfields prices fell. These are a few quotations:—Heavy boots, £5 a pair; flour, £50 per 50 lb. bag; bread, 2s. 6d. per 2 lb. loaf; water, 5s. per gallon; preserved meat, 2s. 6d. per lb; poultry 15s. each; eggs, 1s. each; cabbages, 7s. each; carrots, 6d. each; asparagus, 8s. per bundle; plums, 2s. 6d. per lb; apples, 3s. per lb; cherries, 7s. 6d. per lb. (sent by mail); strawberries, 1s. per dozen (sent by mail); gooseberries, 1s. per dozen; bananas, 6d. each; oranges, 1s. each; and lemons, 2s. each. An ordinary miner's sieve was sold for £1, and a dish for 15s. Chaff was cleared at £180 per. ton, £5 per bag, and 1s. 6d. per lb. A traveller putting up at a wayside inn was sometimes charged 10s. per horse for feed, and as much, or more, for water.
Dust-storms have been a common summer occurrence. Whirlwinds, or willy-willies, have frequently lifted roofs of houses, and lodged them some distance away. The summer climate is warm, but not necessarily distressing. A day temperature of 110 degrees in the shade is often followed by a cool night. A dust-storm is invariably the forerunner of a cool change. First a lurid cumulus obscures the sky, angry clouds of dust form, and willy-willies rise suspiciously in the direction whence the storm approaches. The day becomes dark, and in a few minutes the goldfields town is hidden as by an impenetrable cloud. It is impossible to see more than a few feet ahead. The dust eddies into the houses, and settles in thin layers on the furniture. Outside, stray papers, with other light material, is caught up by the wind, and describes grotesque and rapid shooting and diving motions, and is finally lost to view. In the midst of the storm a peal of thunder is usually followed by a short but heavy fall of rain. The atmosphere becomes cool and clear, and perhaps within half-an-hour the sun shines through a purified sky, and not a cloud is to be seen anywhere.
If the inhabitants of the centres of population built the towns, the prospectors and miners paved the way for them to do so. The life of these wanderers was not so enjoyable, and their experiences had a rougher edge. Except those who were fortunate enough to discover rich patches of alluvial, or gold-ribbed quartz reefs, they did not have much money to spend. Their days and nights were passed in the silent ugly bush, with nothing but toil and hope to relieve the everlasting monotony. They had constantly to exercise all their ingenuity to obtain sufficient water, and their food had sometimes to be carefully measured to ensure its lasting them until they could obtain more. What food they had was not varied or delectable. A few tins of preserved meat, small parcels of flour, a tin or two of preserved fruits, a little tea and sugar—this was the equipment of the well supplied. The vast expanse of desert, and the eternal stillness around were calculated to give their minds a dolorous turn. Nature under such circumstances often causes the lonely man to descend to the standard of a child. He converses affectionately with dumb animals, and beholds certain trees or parts of his mining equipment with a demonstrative regard. Except for his camels or his horses, he may not not see animal or bird for weeks. His watch,
