A VISIT TO THE NORTHERN GOLD FIELDS.
FROM OUR SPECIAL REPORTER.
No. 8.
A FEW hundred yards to the northward of the lone roadside inn at Fairfield, save and except
the chance of meeting a wandering digger, you have looked upon the last human face that you will
find until you cross the boundaries of Queensland, distant about seventy miles, and these are so
sparsely scattered, so few and far between, that you may easily reach the Gulf of Carpentaria without
falling in with a specimen of the white race, unless you go out of your way to seek for it.
Nevertheless, towards Queensland we are bound, and are once again in the solitudes of an Australian
wilderness, where the monotonous forest rolls over mountain and valley, gorge and glen; now crowding
along the brink of some foaming and roaring cataract, as if prying into the secrets of the deep abyss,
and then clinging to the sides of precipices — here sprinkled over gentle slopes or undulating valleys,
and there climbing amidst naked cliffs to the highest peaks. The ubiquitous eucalypti, the box, and
the mahogany are everywhere present, — stunted and knarled, they scale the rocky steeps, or rise in
proud luxuriance to a height of two hundred feet from some grassy slope, flinging their shadeless
limbs heavenward as if in defiance of those electric clouds that are marshalling their hosts round
the summits of the range.
As we proceed along the narrow path, the ceaseless song of the cicada, rivalling the noise of a
thousand knife-grinders, drowns every other sound; flocks of screaming paroquets are flitting from
tree to tree, and an occasional pair of saucy mags may be seen perched upon a bough taking notes of
things in general. The sultry breeze sweeps in fitful gusts over the long grass, and as it dies away
is succeeded by a stifling and oppressive heat; a hazy gloom obscures the bright sunshine, the scrub
birds fly low and dart from thicket to thicket, the cicada becomes silent, and a deathlike stillness
pervades the forest. Presently a sound of distant thunder breaks upon the ear, and low moanings issue
from the recesses of the woods, and now they give place to a continuous roar like that of rushing
waters. The black cloud which had been gathering on the mountain tops advances, riding on the storm,
and covers the earth as with a pall; — forked lightnings shoot too and fro, followed by incessant
peels of thunder, louder and louder still, as the storm-fiend rides on, until every beetling craig,
and gorge, and valley, in defiance, hurls back the deafening clamour — the forest giants bend to the
hurricane like reeds — the air is filled with flying limbs and branches, and the gloom deepens as
the fathering clouds, piled and rolled in masses, are riven by the electric flash, when crash succeeds
crash, each announcing the fall of a mighty tree, perhaps the growth of centuries. And now a few
premonitory drops are followed by a deluge of rain and hail, drifting like ocean spray. The torrent
at last beats down the gale, and as the storm cloud sweeps onwards over the distant ranges, the rain
ceases, and the sun, bursting through earth's misty canopy, licks up the reeking vapours and silvers
the edges of the flying scud. The cicada now recommences his imitations of the knife grinder, the
laughing jackass proclaims that the elemental warfare is over from the topmost bough of a neighbouring
wattle; all nature is refreshed and, shaking the moisture from our dripping garments, we solace
ourselves with a draw of the "dudheen" and resume our journey.
As we proceed coarse arenaceous schists are exhibited in the water-courses, and occasional knolls and
strips of unstratified sandstone present themselves, probably the wreck of a belt of consolidated
sandhills or dunes, in the rear of an ancient line of coast. Nothing can exceed the beauty of the
slopes of the Gerard Range, over which our path now leads, frequently crossing small streams which
have their source near the summit; from all of these gold has been procured, but none as yet have
been regularly worked. Five miles from the New England Road you reach the crown of the range, the
ascent to which is so gradual at this point that it is only indicated by the fall of the drainage.
Here the track follows the summit of on offshoot trending to the northward. The aspect of the country
now becomes more rugged and broken; isolated patches of tableland, being the highest points of
elevation, may be seen to the northward and southward, and from these long ranges extend — trending
towards the basin of the Upper Clarence, marking the course of the minor streams. Deep chasms, sharp
outlines, precipices, and beetling cliffs in the distance, now denote the schistose character of the
district.
As we advance, on our left is the long line of ranges rising from the west bank of the Cataract River
to the great plateau; and on our right is one of those vast gorges, at least 800 feet in depth, which
open into the basins of the main creeks or rivers. Four miles from the crown of the range brings us
to the steep toilsome descent to the basin of the Emu Creek. We are now some hundreds of feet deep
in the coarse flagstone schists, but the detritus, which is of a considerable depth in the bed of
this stream, appears to be derived from the conglomerates near its source rather than from the
schists through which it passes lower down.
Emu Creek, flowing through a deep basin at the western base of the Gerard Range, receives many
tributaries, and throughout its course intersects an auriferous country, containing a superficial
running stream only during the wet season. It has produced some gold, but has never been either
regularly worked or fairly prospected. Some of the tributaries of this stream will eventually be
discovered to be payable, particularly near its source, and in the neighbourhood of the granitic
outcrop that is exhibited in the vicinity of its junction with the Clarence River.
All the minor watercourses and tributaries of mountain streams, rising amidst the granites of the
table land, and flowing through the coarse sandstones and schists that repose upon its flanks in the
descents to the basin of the Clarence, are auriferous, being nowhere very rich, but containing gold
in the largest quantity where the upheaval of the granitic mass has been greatest, and where the
super-incumbent sedimentary rocks have been subjected to the highest degree of action and chemical
reorganisation by the molten rock upon which they reposed.
That subacrial volcanic action has taken place in this part of New South Wales appears to be doubtful,
from the wreck of oceanic deposits to be discovered undisturbed on the highest summits of the district.
The rise of the country seems to have been gradual, and the retreat of the waves from the base of the
storm-lashed cliffs and promontories that form the eastern margin of the great northern plateau of
New England, to the present line of coast, has been the work of ages upon ages.
At first the hollow booming of the breakers might be heard from the plateau as they rolled over long
belts of sandy shoals, which, stretching north and south, fringed the ancient shores; then as the
pentup tides, impelled by storms, swept along the coast, they thundered against their prison barriers,
until bursting through a hundred channels they regained the ocean, thus forming chains of islands,
often over-whelmed, and their sandy surface swept into the depths of the ocean by the roaring surges
— but still they rise. At last the schists appear, borne upwards by the heaving granites, to do battle
with the waves. Centuries have passed: we look again from the heights of the plateau — the islands
have become long ranges and lofty capes and promontories, connected with the main land; but the ocean
still maintains his empire over numerous new formed gulfs, and bays, and estuaries; flocks of sea
birds whiten the cliffs, or stalk along the line of foam thrown upon the sandy shores by the ripple of
the bay, or wade in shallow pools in search of their accustomed food left by the retreating tide.
Again ages have elapsed. We look once more, the whole district has risen; the ocean tide has been
driven back, the sea birds have taken flight, and the gulfs and bays and estuaries have become dry
land. Ocean now changes his mode of warfare, his waves and his breakers have been defeated, he calls
the sun and winds to his aid, and floods rising in clouds and misty vapours from his bosom hang over
the rebellious mountains, and with their torrents endeavour to sweep them back to his dominions; but
they only partially succeed. The rocks give way before this new assault, mighty chasms are created,
hills melt into plains, and and new-born rivers restore his floods; but the dry lands remain
unconquered, and Earth enters into her new possessions and clothes them with trees, and grass, and
flowers.
While our spirit has wandered back to a remote period of the world's history, only dimly shadowed
forth by the surrounding rocks and ranges, our body has awaited its return lingering the while on the
margin of the Emu Creek. We will now ascend the range on the opposite bank, still trending northward,
and, after a journey of two miles along its crest, descend to another stream of an auriferous character,
also unworked, and again mount to the summit of a continuation of the range on the opposite bank. All
these streams have worn deep basins in the schists, the descent and ascent from which is always steep
and difficult; and the prospect of one of those ravines or chasms cutting through the leading range
about every two or three miles of your route, is anything but pleasing, with the thermometer ranging
from 100 to 120, As we go forward, the country on the right hand falls rapidly to the valley of the
Clarence. The schists are now concealed by a wide-spread conglomerate, in which the pebbles are
imbedded in a hard cement (often harder than themselves), composed of argillaceous, feldspathic,
calcareous, and ferruginous matter, which, with the pebbles, appear to be derived entirely frem the
vast masses of schist in situ. The only exception was much rolled pebbles, of a coarse brown secondary
granite, rocks of which were nowhere to be found, but which were nevertheless abundantly mixed with
the detritus in watercourses, where gold was found in any quantity. Having followed the range for
three miles from the last creek, the summit expands to a broad, table land, where strips and patches
of a dark brown porous, ferruginous, sandstone, without stratification, may be found resting upon the
conglomerates, in all the highest situations, often to a depth of from forty to eighty feet. The north
western descents now fall into the basin of the Cataract River, and the eastern and southern slopes
into the valley of the Clarence. The soil on the high lands here is exceedingly rich, and a dense
cedar scrub, similar to many aleady described, occupies the summit of the plateau, and, following the
wreck of the ancient limestones and ironstones down the slopes of a heavy range which sweeps round to
the south-east from the table land and overhangs the basin of the Clarence, only breaks into open
forest where these formations have disappeared, or been removed from the surface.
A path from the main track, descending along regular spurs for two miles, now leads you to the centre
of the camp on Pretty Gully, most inappropriately named, as there is nothing pleasing in the
neighbouieood. This small stream, having its source in the heart of the cedar brush, pursues nearly a
straight course of six miles to the Clarence, from which it is separated by the range above described.
Rising amidst a wreck of lime, ironstone, and conglomerates, it soon descends to the coarse schists,
and, three miles from the scrub, passes through a narrow chasm, flanked by stupendous precipices and
mountains, the summits of which are inaccessible from its channel; from this point its course is over
a succession of falls, until it finally empties into the Clarence.
This watercourse, discovered by a party of French-men and worked by them in secret for three or four
months with some success, has been now pretty well rooted over from the point where it emerges from
the scrub, and leaves the black soil for about three miles, below which nothing payable has been
obtained. In fact, there is no indication of gold in the lower portion of this wild and rugged
watercourse. The little gold that has been procured was found immediately below the conglomerates,
although the operations have extended for a distance of three miles; the payable claims have been but
few, the best did not yield more than 140 ounces of gold, and that was the result of the labour of
two parties.
On the south side of Pretty Gully are two parallel watercourses, descending from the range along
which we have travelled: the richest and shortest is about a mile in length; the other has a course
of about two miles and a half. The greater part of the channel of the latter is through conglomerates,
as already described; the channel of the former, lower on the range, is through schists of a softer
and finer description than those prevailing in the district. The space around the junction of these
streams with the main creek forms a shallow basin suitable for the retention of auriferous drift:
here there is a small area of alluvial ground, from six to eight feet deep, from which a good deal of
gold has been procured; the lower part of the short watercourse also proved to be comparatively rich,
and paid well so long as it lasted. In all the blind gullies between the rounded ridges beneath the
conglomerates are narrow black bog swamps, which are simply silted-up water-courses; from all these
gold has been obtained in small quantities by the prospector. Gold can also be obtained in any of the
watercourses for miles round, but not in quantities sufficient to tempt the digger to abandon the kegs
and fleshpots of the main camp at the present moment; it is also universally diffused over the slopes
of the lower hills and ridges, mingled with the debris of the conglomerates.
A remarkable geological feature of this part of the district is, that little or no quartz can be
observed either in veins or fragments, although much of the gold obtained from the various
watercourses is attached to particles of that substance. The goldbuyer for the Bank of New South Wales
refused to purchase a lot of gold from a digger on his last visit to the gulley, because it contained
so much quartz, and the man was unwilling to have it separated, believing that, as in old times,
quartz specimens were worth their weight in gold. In a distance exceeding twenty miles, I fell in with
but two small veins, one near Fairfield, the other over one of the branches of Pretty Gulley; both
were in the conglomerates, nearly destroyed, and did not appear to penetrate the schists.
The schistose crust varies in thickness from several hundred feet, at the lower part of Pretty Gully,
to some five or six feet, within a distance of two miles to the southward, where a belt of the
granites has been denuded. The strata ranges from six to fifteen feet in depth, with an irregular dip
to the S E., of from ten to fifteen degrees. This rock, all more or less transmuted, and becoming
porphyritic as it descends, has lost, if it ever possessed, its schistose character, which may be due
to the absence of micacompact and devoid of either quartz, dyke, vein, or fissure, without any excess
of silica. It does not appear to have either possessed the necessary constituents for the production
of gold in itself, or to have afforded any passage to metallic vapours and sublimations from the
lower formations unless they may have percolated through the joints of stratification.
From the foregoing observations it may be presumed that the gold so universally diffused over the
lower elevations, and collected in the upper part of the watercourses on the west bank of the Clarence,
in the vicinity of Tabulam, has been either derived from small veins of quartz that existed in the
lower members of the transmuted sandstones, or from the conglomerates themselves, in which it was
deposited prior to its consolidation. The accumulations of the precious metal will therefore probably
be small in quantity, and the auriferous streams will be speedily exhausted.
Four miles to the southwood the road to Tabulam, descending from the heights to the basin of the river,
crosses a beautiful stream which, flowing somewhat parallel to Pretty Gully, falls into Emu Creek at
the head of the magnificent alluvial plains that border the Clarence, and extend to the junction of
the Timbarra River. A fine-grained granite is exhibited near the Four-mile Creek, at the Base of two
or three declivities trending towards the river. This rock is associated with altered schistose masses,
and lime-stones, which pass into the regular flag-stone of the district; I also observed a vein of
pure milk-white marble crossing the channel of a dry creek, a short distance above the out-crop of
the granites. The indications in this neighbourhood are more in favour of a heavy deposit of gold
than those around the main camp. The flats, however, expand as they approach the river, and the
mountain streams wander from side to side, and frequently change their channel. A few scattered parties
of diggers are to be found encamped up and down the margin of these streams, some of whom are realising
a fair return for their labour. As might he expected the precious metal is here discovered in isolated
patches in the neighbourhood of the granites.
The diggers scattered amongst the slopes in the vicinity of Pretty Gully now number something like
200, and they are enabled to sell or forward by escort from 250 to 300 ounces of gold every fortnight.
The yield for the last few weeks has been slightly decreasing.
My next letter will carry us past Tooloom to the northern limits of our gold-fields.